There was a teasing quality to his question and Deborah briefly wondered if he really would. “No, you’ve abased yourself sufficiently, but I still want, need to leave.”
“No!” His boot rammed into the log as if to trap her.
“You have no right or reason to hold me here.” She silently begged God’s forgiveness.
“Of course I do!”
“What? Carrying blankets? Oh that’s definitely treasonous. My brother? Colonel, even you wouldn’t stoop so low. Mistress Kershaw? Well, with the exception of the camp followers, she was the only female to talk to me. Lady Claudia certainly didn’t set herself to be cordial. What else? You need a doctor? I happen to know that there is at least one very loyal gentleman in town who could fulfill your needs much better than I ever could. I’m sure an appeal to his patriotism would procure his assistance.” She was angry now and didn’t particularly care if he knew it.
“I miss my family. I’m here among strangers. Some of them very nice, but strangers none the less. I’ve been insulted by your, uh, lady friend, and I’ve been dragooned into substituting for your doctor.”
He flicked a fallen leaf off his upraised knee. Grimacing, he nodded understanding of her assertions. “You’re right. You’re right about everything. And all I can say in my own defense is that I don’t think I can let you go. It has nothing to do with the army. Don’t ask me to explain it,” he raised his head, “I don’t thing I can. But I’m as sure of it as I am of my own name.”
Deborah stared at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She swallowed. “I won’t pretend to misunderstand you. I feel the,” she shrugged, “pull, too. I won’t lie to you about that. And I still think I should leave, maybe even more so because of what’s going on between us.”
“I understand, I really do, because I miss my family, too. Like you, I’m among strangers. Some of them would like to stick my spoon in the wall for me.”
That shocked her, and she reached out her hand. ”Don’t worry. He just parted my hair for me.” He leaned down and grasped her fingers. “Stay. Please.”
Deborah couldn’t think for a moment. She knew what she should do, what she had to do, what she wanted to do. “I won’t be a replacement for Lady Claudia!” It popped out.
“We agree on that.” He grinned and then grew serious. “I only want you to stay. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
She nodded. Then she reared back. “’Parted your hair’?”
Chapter 14
“I want you to have this.”
Deborah started and nearly dropped her fork on her eggs. “Dear me! I didn’t hear you come in. I was just thinking, and you startled me.” You’re babbling, she scolded herself. She looked at the small box in his hand. “Is this for me?”
“Yes. It was ready for me when I came into town yesterday.”
“Ready for you?”
“Umm, I’d ordered it before we left.” He watched her as he sat down next to her.
“Oh! That means…” That meant he’d been planning the gift for quite a while. The thought thrilled her. She could see that he was pleased by her reaction.
“Well, don’t just look at it. Go ahead and open it.”
“Yes, of course, but…” She reached under the table and pulled up a bulkier package, “I have something for you, too.” It was finished and had been intended for him. It would have been petty to retain it. Besides, something in her really wanted this truce between them to work. She didn’t know where the armistice would lead them, but some deep-seated instinct drove her to cultivate it.
He was surprised, but pleased and immediately began to pull off the string and muslin surrounding it. He pulled out the muffler and unfolded it, stroking the soft white wool as he did. “This is fantastic. You made it?” Even his ear-to ear grin had an endearing one-sidedness about it.
She nodded shyly.
“Then it’s doubly wonderful. Thank you. You know I’ll be wearing it. Open yours.”
The string on the store’s box did not yield its contents as easily as did her muslin.
“Where’s Scamp?”
“Oh, he was running around like he had to do something important, so Rogers offered to take him for a walk.”
When the string finally surrendered, she hesitated before lifting the lid. She glanced up at him, and he smiled. Looking inside, she found shoe buckles. “Ooooh! They’re beautiful.” Even as she thrilled to the glorious sterling, she knew that these were no simple gift. “But you really shouldn’t have gotten…”
He silenced her with a finger across her lips. “Yes, I should, and they are a perfectly acceptable gift.”
“But they’re silver!”
“Yes,’ he drawled with a teasing note in his voice, “did you expect them to be wood?”
She giggled and lifted the two shining, engraved buckles. “They’re much too expensive for a present to someone you barely know.”
“Ah, but I want to know you much, much better.”
His tone was intimate beyond the spoken words. Deborah’s eyes widened, and she groped blindly for the box. Dumping the buckles in, she swallowed and pushed it towards him. Mutely, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“What’s wrong?”
Unable to contend with the message she thought she heard in his words, she kept her eyes squeezed shut, still shaking her head
A door opened behind them. “Get out!” he snarled, and the door closed with dispatch.
Deborah used the interruption to try to push away from the table. Kit manacled her wrists and wrenched them around toward him. “What’s wrong?” He wasn’t going to brook any opposition.
“I can’t…I won’t…” She tried to pull away.
“God’s teeth, we’ve been through this. What’s wrong? You know I’m not going to let you leave on some whim.” He shook her until her head snapped backwards and her eyes flew open.
“What’s…?” The word contained all the frustration and anger in him, but it died even as he spoke it. For a moment, he just studied her eyes. “You’re frightened out of your wits. I don’t understand. Why?” One hand lifted to caress her cheek and smooth the hair he had shaken loose. “I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you. I promise. Only why are you so frightened?” She might have been a distressed child.
“You’re just looking for a mistress. This is all a ploy.”
“I won’t deny that I want you in my bed.” She jerked away but the gentle manacles held fast. “But my intentions are strictly honorable. If your father were here now, I’d be speaking to him.”
Her panic fading rapidly, Deborah almost laughed aloud. Her father here! Wouldn’t that cause a commotion? But wasn’t that part of the problem?
He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. “Can you accept them in the spirit they were given? Hmm?”
“I…” Another feather-soft kiss. “I…” He delicately suckled her lower lip. “Yes” was more a breath than a word.
“Damme, if you’re not more work than I ever expected.” A wry grin slid over his mouth. “But you’re worth it.
“And I still have a camp to run. Go get your cloak. We’ll do an inspection tour and spread a little Christmas cheer.” He helped her to her feet.
She started toward the door and then turned. “Thank you.”
**
The circle of last night’s bonfire smoldered slowly in Boxing Day’s wintry sun. Everyone joined around it last night, sharing Christmas carols and the extra rations of rum Kit ordered.
Deborah wrinkled her nose at the smell and the memory. She definitely didn’t like rum, but tried it on the urging of several of the camp followers. Kit roared with laughter at her disgusted expression.
He was in such a good mood that the only reaction to her gift for Mr. Thomson was a raised eyebrow. He kept hold of her hand, her arm, or her waist the whole time they strolled among the celebrating company. She had no objections.
There were a few minor inj
uries left over from the celebration: a split lip and a broken rib from a brawl, a burn from a skirt danced too close to the bonfire, and several excruciation but not fatal hangovers.
She had some time to work on her waistcoat before lunch, and all was good with the world.
**
Scissors, spool, and pins on the tea table provided a disheveled counterpoint to the elegance of the parlor. Deborah promised the formal portraits on the far wall that she’d clean up and then giggled at her absurdity.
She was still smiling when Kit strode in wearing a grim expression. “Deborah, I have to go out to the coast. There’s been some trouble at Georgetown. We’ll go by boat and overland, so it shouldn’t take too long.” He dropped to one knee by her chair. “Will you be here when I get back?”
She set her sewing aside and grasped his hand. “Yes. You know I…”
A pounding came from the direction of the main door.
“Who the hell can that be now?” He looked up and then shrugged. “We leave first thing in the morning. Thomson will stay here with you. I’ve attached him to me personally, and you can use him for anything…”
“Where’s Col. Marshall?” The voice was all too familiar.
“Oh, no, not her again,” Kit groaned before he stood.
Rogers opened the door, “Lady…”
“Kit, darling, I just heard that you were back, and I couldn’t wait to see you. You wouldn’t believe the rumor I heard in town about…”
“Lady Claudia, I’m trying to run a war here.” He grasped her arm and turned her back toward the front door. “I really don’t have time for town rumors. I must insist that you leave immediately.” He stopped at the door, and Rogers opened it for him. “Good day.” With the briefest of nods to Rogers, he turned and went back to the parlor.
Deborah could hear Rogers’ soft, “This way, Madame,” and finally the carriage door closing. She watched Kit roll the tightness out of his shoulders. “Well done, sir, I’m impressed.”
**
Kit waded through paperwork most of the evening. She kept him company and sewed.
As they were putting things away, she broached the topic that had been bothering her all along. “Kit, there’s only one problem with me waiting for you. My…umm…family, we’re not Tories.”
He pulled her close and nuzzled her hair. “I think I guessed that one already.”
“No, Kit, you don’t understand. They have no royalist sympathies whatsoever. Plus, you’re an aristocrat. I could well be a liability to you in England.”
“That is the least of my worries. You’ve been brought up as a lady, obviously, and my family will accept you for what you are, if not for my sake. As to your family, it’s not them I want to marry. We’ll work any problems out, agreed?”
She nodded as she reached up to caress his cheek. He captured that hand and turned slightly to drop a string of kisses from her palm to the tips of her fingers. She explored his lips and they parted under her gentle investigation.
Slanting his mouth away from her questing fingers, he inched toward her. His breath sent butterfly wings of pleasure across her face. The thrill of his lips grazing hers forced a gasp from her, and he chuckled deep in his chest.
“Good, good, I want you as wild for me as I am for you.”
“Oh, yes.”
“We still have long way to go, but this is a good start.” His hands threaded through her hair as he deepened the kiss, sending her cap askew, though neither noticed it. He explored up the side of her face to his goal, just behind her ear. Little kisses and nips surprised her with a delight that jellied her insides and made her cling even more tightly to him.
He ran his hands up and down her back, crushing her into his hardness, making her acutely aware of his arousal. He might have been trying to meld the two of them by the very power of his arms, and she added all her strength to the effort.
Once again his mouth found hers; it opened like a flower under his urging. His tongue dipped in to touch hers, and she gasped deep in her throat. Frightening, exciting, delicious, extraordinary, having him inside her body only made her want more, and she sought to explore his mouth.
As she sought to gain entry, he pulled back.
“What?” She was disoriented, bereft.
Drinking in great gulps of air, he laid his head on her shoulder even as he held her close. “Christ and the saints preserve me!” With one last breath, he lifted his head and cradled her face in his hands. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to. That’s for bloody sure.”
Deborah thought he was trying to look into her soul as he held her there. Finally he pushed her away.
“Get you to bed, woman, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
**
It was cold and dark as they prepared to leave. Scamp capered heedlessly among the men and horses. After a few minutes of socializing, he seemed to realize that something was amiss with his mistress. He took up his position next to her.
Deborah bit her lip to control the tears as she huddled in her cloak and watched the final preparations. They were traveling light and fast, so there was little to be done, and they finished quickly. Too quickly.
He was at her side for a farewell. No amount of physical pain could stop the tears. Without taking his eyes off her, he scooped one off her cheek and brought it to his lips. No words were necessary.
With a cry she launched herself at him, holding him as if it were the last time. She rained kisses over his face. He finally stopped them with one of his own. His hand cupped her chin as he drank in her face.
“Dream of me,” and he left.
**
The year of Our Lord 1781 began with a light snowfall. Deborah admired it and went back to what she’d been doing for the last week: sewing, reading some of the many books in Joseph Kershaw’s bounteous library, and tending the winter crop of illnesses. January’s days grew apace with the household cat’s pregnant belly and about as fast.
One day seamlessly merged into the next, indistinguishable and unremarkable. Deborah knew she had to leave and knew she had no wish to. Day after day it ate at her.
January’s date poised to add a second digit when she finally approached Mr. Thomson. “I’ve got to get out of here. I realize the Colonel doesn’t completely approve of Mistress Kershaw, but she’s the only woman I’m acquainted with here, excepting a few of the camp followers. Will you escort me into Camden tomorrow?”
Thomson had spent the last week watching her alternately fidget her fingers raw or stare blankly into the fire, did indeed know of the Colonel’s antipathy toward the Kershaws, traitorous exile and his wife. He sucked in his lips as he thought.
“There’s a tavern across the street from her shop,” she noted. “You wouldn’t have to dance attendance on me.”
“Humm, I’m supposin’ we could.”
“Oh thank you. I just have to escape for a little while.”
“Aye, m’um.” The Colonel had briefed him on the situation with Mistress Morgan and escape was one of the items his lordship had touched on. Best be taking a man or two along to keep an eye on things. Thomson didn’t think the lass would do anything foolish, being head over heels in love, and fighting every minute of it, but it was best to be careful. “T’ Colonel ‘ould ‘ave me ears if aught went wrong,” he muttered.
**
Thomson guided the gig, flanked by two outriders, past the end of the palisade surrounding the house. Deborah enveloped Scamp into the folds of her cloak, finally getting him to settle down. He was almost as excited about this outing as she was.
“Why do we have two escorts, Mr. Thomson?”
“Humm, there’s been some talk, just talk mind you, o’ some strange riders in t’ harea. Best not t’ take chances.”
Deborah looked up from the dog. “This isn’t going to be a problem, is it? We could wait if you smell trouble.”
“Naw, t’aint no danger. Jus’ taking care o’ t’Colonel’s…” He swallowed th
e rest of the sentence.
“What?”
“Umm, business, m’um, his business.”
Scamp poked his head out of her cloak, and she leaned down to pet him.
**
Unfamiliar faces populated Kershaw’s Store. After a moment, Deborah tentatively approached one of the shop girls.
“Oh, the mistress is up in the office.”
Minutes later, Deborah and Sarah fell into each others’ arms, and the girl withdrew.
“How are…”
“What’s going…”
“I’ve been so worried…”
“Are you all right?”
“Tell me…”
They broke apart with adolescent giggles. Sarah stepped into the breach. “It’s so good to see you! You look…” Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she examined Deborah’s face. “I want to say wonderful, but there’s something else. Come sit and tell me everything.”
The office, usually Joseph Kershaw’s stark domain, did have the comfort of a settee. Some time and a pot of tea later, Sarah took Deborah’s hand. “You love him, don’t you?”
Deborah could only grimace, stare at the hands, and nod.
“You think he’s looking for marriage and not…”
Again, she nodded.
“Then you’re going to have to make some decisions and stick with them. If you decide to leave, we can get you out without any obvious connection to me. It’d best be while he’s gone, but it can’t be too soon. We’ll…”
“No.” Quiet, firm, final. Deborah cleared her throat and looked up. “I want to be with him. These days without him have been like…like unsalted porridge. Ugh!”
Sarah smiled wryly. “Oh, my dear, if this was a sickness of the body, I’d be calling the parson and the undertaker.”
Deborah smiled through a laugh and nodded. “I’ve got a very bad case of whatever it is.”
“We both know what it is.” Sarah hesitated and then continued, “It’s not going to be easy. The war stands between you. You’re going to have to tell him about your family and your feelings at the earliest opportunity. That in itself is going to be risky. You haven’t actually done anything, so they can’t hang you for a traitor, but it could be a death sentence for your hopes.”
Scamp's Lady Page 16
