Sensing her distress, Nathaniel slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “Please, Rosalind, tell me everything. I know it will be extremely difficult for you to relive the hell you must have gone through, but there are many questions that need to be answered. After all I have gone through to find you, do I not deserve an explanation?”
Rosalind pulled away from him and dropped her gaze. She knew she would not be able conjure up a convincing tale while looking straight at him.
“The night Jonathan died,” she began, her voice but a hoarse whisper, “sleep eluded me because I was so distressed. The heat of the night also was unbearable, so I finally left my chamber and went down to the kitchen for some milk, thinking it might help me to sleep. When I entered, I heard a noise behind me. It was…the savage…lurking in the shadows. Before I even could comprehend who he was or why he was there, he grabbed me and put one of Grace’s carving knives to my throat, warning me not to make a sound.”
She paused to mentally organize the remainder of her tale before she continued. “He forced me to accompany him because he knew if he left me behind, I would have alerted your father immediately, and he wanted to gain a good lead ere anyone went searching for him. We followed the stream for days and finally arrived near Portsmouth. That is when he informed me I no longer was of any use to him and was slowing him down, so he left me there and continued on his own. I dared not move until I was certain he was not returning, then I followed a path that led from the woods and down a knoll to here, Mr. Stoddard’s, where I banged on his door and begged him for help. He has been more than kind to me. He has fed me, given me his wife’s clothes to wear, and even said he would arrange for my safe return home.”
“So you did follow the stream,” Nathaniel said, mostly to himself. “My instincts were correct.” He then asked, “Where went the Indian?”
“He headed west,” she said. “But I know not his destination.”
Nathaniel frowned at the news. “We thought he might be heading northwest to the mountains. In fact, my father and Matthew are concentrating their search in that direction. I fear that by now, the Indian may have increased his lead by a wide margin.”
“Then why not cease your search?” Rosalind lifted her head and turned to look at Nathaniel. “I am safe now. Can we not just return home and put this matter behind us?”
“My dear Rosalind!” Nathaniel’s eyes grew wide. “The savage has murdered a man, a friend of my family. Are you suggesting we simply forget about that and just leave him to do the same to another man who may anger him?”
“I do not believe Jonathan was murdered,” she said. “I believe he fell and hit his head because he was sotted.”
Nathaniel shook his head in obvious disbelief. “The Indian was found leaning over Jonathan’s body – which showed evidence of being beaten about the face. And by your own admission, the savage held a knife to your throat and took you hostage. Is that the sort of man who should be allowed to run free? Who is to say he will not return someday and capture you again – to finish what he failed to do this time?”
“My only desire at present is to put all of this behind me,” she said, praying for the strength to convincingly add, “And to plan for our wedding.”
Nathaniel’s expression brightened at the mention of the wedding. He grasped Rosalind by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “You are right, my love,” he said, his hazel eyes caressing her face. “’Tis a blessing that amongst all of this turmoil, there is something good to think about. Now that we are together again and you are safe, my main consideration should be to make you my bride. And believe me, it cannot be soon enough to suit me.”
He stood, pulling Rosalind to her feet as he did. “I promise I shall never let you out of my sight again,” he breathed. He kissed her then, a hard, possessive kiss that nearly bruised her lips.
Rosalind’s first impulse was to pull away, but her conscience prevented her from doing so. After all, she reasoned, Nathaniel had searched endlessly for her, caring naught about his own welfare. The least she could do was allow him the reward of a kiss. As Nathaniel’s mouth lingered on hers, Rosalind made a futile attempt to blot out the memory of Shadow’s kisses and the passion they so easily had ignited. Loving Shadow, she realized, was senseless, not only because he soon would be sailing out of her life forever, but also because he had given her no indication that he returned her love.
Determined to erase all memory of Shadow and ease the gnawing pain that had arrived with his departure, Rosalind defiantly wrapped her arms around Nathaniel and pressed her body to his. After all, she thought, if this man soon was to become her husband and she was to be bound to him forever, perhaps it would be wise to attempt to please him rather than to push him away.
Nathaniel was taken aback by Rosalind’s sudden, unexpected response to his kiss. Never before had she shown him even the slightest bit of affection. Had she, he wondered, missed him so desperately? Or was this merely an expression of gratitude and relief because he had found her? Whatever the reason, he decided, he was going to take full advantage of this pleasant change of circumstances, especially since he so desperately craved the company of a woman…any woman. He moaned with pleasure as he forced his tongue between Rosalind’s lips and slid his hand down to roughly knead her breast.
Revulsion gripped her as she realized, with a deep sense of regret, that her actions had transformed Nathaniel into a lust-incited beast. She moved her arms and pressed her palms against his chest, struggling to push him away from her, but he did not move. Rosalind suppressed a cry of outrage as his free hand dropped to briefly massage the soft roundness of her right buttock before tightening his grasp on it and crushing her hips to his.
Rosalind gulped back the nausea that rose in her throat as Nathaniel’s mouth and tongue continued their relentless assault, his rough stubble of a beard tearing at her delicate skin. His hold on her was so powerful, it rendered her incapable of moving even a fraction of an inch. Breathing became difficult.
Nathaniel’s mouth moved to Rosalind’s ear, where he traced the outline of it with his tongue, his breath coming in short, passion-filled gasps. “Oh, sweet Rosalind,” he whispered hoarsely, “I have waited so long for this moment. I cannot – will not – allow you to refuse me.”
“Please, Nathaniel,” she choked, “wait until our wedding ni…”
Her words were abruptly halted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the walk outside. The door burst open to reveal a scowling Adam. “Did I not specifically instruct you to latch this door?” he boomed.
Startled, Nathaniel released his hold on Rosalind and whirled around to face the man who so boldly had dashed his plans for the evening. Rosalind grasped the edge of the table and leaned forward, hungrily gasping for air.
Adam halted just inside the doorway and warily eyed the scene before him. His gaze darted from Rosalind, who was trembling and breathless, to the stranger, a handsome but disheveled-looking character, with ire in his eyes and a telltale bulge in his breeches. Adam needed no further proof of the man’s intentions. He reached for the knife he kept sheathed at his side.
“Do not move – not one muscle!” he shouted at Nathaniel. “Or I swear, I will slice your lecherous throat from ear to ear!”
Nathaniel extended his palms toward Adam in a gesture of surrender. “Please, sir, there has been some grave misunderstanding.”
Adam did not move. His grip tightened on the handle of his knife as his eyes remained locked on Nathaniel. “Are you all right, child?” he called to Rosalind, not looking at her.
Rosalind straightened. “I am fine, Mr. Stoddard,” she said with some effort. “This is Nathaniel Corwin…my betrothed.”
Adams eyebrows shot up. His expression did little to conceal his disbelief as his gaze made a critical sweep of Nathaniel’s wrinkled clothing, unshaven face and tangled hair. “Speak you the truth?” he asked when he was able to find his voice. “This is the son of the magistrate?”
Adam finally stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. His eyes, reflecting his skepticism, cut toward Rosalind.
“He speaks the truth,” Rosalind said, having managed to regain some of her composure. “I know that any intimacy prior to marriage is considered a sin, but we have been apart for so long, we could not help ourselves.” The smile she offered him was feeble, at best.
Solely for Rosalind’s benefit, Adam slowly nodded, as if accepting her explanation, but he was too wise, too experienced, not to recognize when someone was feeding him an out-and-out falsehood. The girl’s eyes, still wet with tears, contained raw fear. Adam was positive that this was, by no stretch of the imagination, a passionate reunion between two young people in love. He already knew where Rosalind’s heart lay. A man would have to be blind not to see it was Shadow she loved. Adam could only assume that her reasons for lying about her reunion with this Nathaniel character were valid ones.
“Pray tell, what led you here to my home?” Adam, his tone cold, asked Nathaniel.
“I arrived at the port late this afternoon and spoke with several of the people there,” he answered, allowing himself to relax somewhat as Adam finally sheathed the knife. “That is when I learned that my father and brother had passed this way earlier and found nothing. Just as I was beginning to feel completely defeated in my efforts to find my Rosalind, one man suggested I seek you out, Mr. Stoddard. He assured me you were the local authority on Indians – that you could second-guess their actions. So I hastened over here to seek your advice about how best to track the murdering savage who took my future bride. You can well imagine my shock when I found her here, within your very walls!”
Adam moved toward a cabinet where he withdrew a flagon of wine and three cups. After pouring equal amounts of the red liquid into the cups, he extended one to Nathaniel and another to Rosalind. “Aye,” he finally said, his eyes narrowing. “I do know a great deal about the Indians in these parts.” He straddled a stool and sat facing Nathaniel. “But I fear I cannot offer you any suggestions about catching your particular man, for I know naught about him nor the way his mind works. They do not all think alike…just as we do not.”
“Is there a village near here where he may have gone?” Nathaniel persisted.
“There are several,” Adam said. “But none that would harbor an outcast. He will remain on his own…and on the move.”
Nathaniel sighed and shook his head. “’Tis difficult for me to think I may never find him, for my desire to make him pay for what he did burns within me. I shall not be happy until I see him swinging from a noose.”
Both Adam and Rosalind remained silent, for fear their voices might betray their true feelings for Shadow. They knew that if Nathaniel sensed they had aided him in any way, they would be spending the rest of their lives looking at the world through the bars of a gaol.
“Sir,” Nathaniel said to Adam, “I do not mean to impose in any way, but I am so weary, I barely can keep my eyes open. May I stay here tonight? I wish to escort Rosalind back to Eastwell early in the morn, and I promised her I never would allow her out of my sight again.”
From the corner of his eye, Adam noticed Rosalind’s stricken expression.
“I do not think it would be proper,” he answered, shaking his head, “especially after witnessing what I did when I walked in here this eve. I suggest you seek a room at the inn for the night. You have my word I shall take good care of Rosalind ere your return on the morrow.”
Nathaniel’s lips tightened. “I understand, sir.” He turned his attention to Rosalind. “I shall return for you at daybreak – a new man. A hot meal, a pint of ale, a bath, a shave and a good night’s sleep should do wonders for me. I also will collect some supplies for our journey. Do you feel fit to travel?”
Rosalind nodded, then drained her wine in one gulp.
“Fine, then.” Nathaniel set his empty cup on the table. “I shall take my leave now. Tonight I anticipate I finally shall sleep like a babe, knowing you are safe.”
Nathaniel moved toward Adam and extended his hand. “Thank you so much, sir, for seeing to Rosalind’s care and comfort. My family and I are in your debt.”
Adam accepted his hand for a brief, perfunctory handshake. “’Twas no trouble at all.”
Nathaniel then turned to face Rosalind. “Until the morrow, my love, may your dreams be pleasant ones.” With a smile and a nod, he took his leave.
The door barely had closed behind him when Rosalind, her eyes brimming with fresh tears, said, “What am I to do, Mr. Stoddard? I do not wish to make the journey home in the company of that man…unchaperoned! The mere thought of having to sleep in the forest alone with him does naught but frighten me.”
Adam seated himself on the edge of the bed and carefully regarded the distraught girl. “Am I to assume then that this is an arranged marriage?”
Rosalind laughed humorlessly. “Aye, but ‘tis Nathaniel who is doing all of the arranging.” When she noticed Adam’s look of puzzlement, she added, “Nathaniel has threatened to take my mother’s house and land for an unpaid debt of my dead father…unless I wed him.”
Adam’s brows creased together. “I see,” he said. “That would explain why someone with your obvious intelligence would consent to wed a rake like Corwin. I wish I could help you, child, but I have little money to speak of. Nevertheless, you are welcome to take what I have if it will help ease your father’s debt.”
“You are too kind,” Rosalind said. “I am extremely grateful for your offer, but my father’s debt appears to be nothing short of a king’s ransom. I fear Nathaniel has me exactly where he wishes me to be.”
“Although my meeting of the man was but a brief one,” Adam said, “My dislike of him was instant. In all good conscience, I cannot allow you to journey alone with such a lusty young bull. I fear he allows his loins to rule his actions.”
Rosalind blushed at Adam’s crude assessment of Nathaniel, even though she agreed with his every word. “Then you will help me find someone else to escort me back to Eastwell?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” he said. “It all depends upon your decision.”
She stared at him. “Decision?”
“Whether to allow the captain to continue to blackmail you, or to fight for what you truly want.”
Rosalind continued to stare.
“You are in love with Shadow Runner, are you not?”
Rosalind’s mouth fell open. “Why ever would you assume that?”
Adam chuckled and shook his head. “My dear child, ‘tis as obvious as the nose on your face. Whether or not you are willing to admit it, you and Shadow share a bond that goes much deeper than friendship. I have been on this good earth long enough to recognize love when I see it.”
Adam’s words caused the now-familiar lump to form in her throat. “Aye,” she softly confessed. “I do love Shadow…more than I ever thought possible.” She moved to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed, then gazed up at Adam. “I feel so lost without him, Mr. Stoddard.”
Adam’s eyes were sympathetic when he looked at her. “Only you can decide which path is best for you, child. But I can tell you from my own experience that if you truly want something desperately enough, some way, somehow, you will find a way to make it yours.”
“Not in this instance,” Rosalind said. “Shadow never has given me reason to believe he shares my feelings. And even if he had, none of it matters now. He is gone.”
“Oh, I can assure you, Shadow does love you,” Adam said, smiling gently. “I have known the lad for years and can plainly read what is in his eyes. And he is not gone. The Conway
does not set sail until morning.”
“And what do you propose I do?” Rosalind frowned at him. “Climb aboard the ship and politely ask the crew if perchance they have spied an Indian lurking about?”
Adam smiled at her. “When I left the tavern less than an hour ago, the sailors barely had begun their celebration. ‘Tis unlikely they will return to the ship for several more hours. Shadow spoke of hiding in the cargo hold. ‘Twould not be difficult for someone to sneak aboard and convince him to return.”
“What would be the point?” she asked. “If I ran away with Shadow, Nathaniel surely would seek his revenge by punishing my family.”
“Not if I tell him the Indian returned for you in the night and dragged you away.” Adam said. “As long as the Corwins continue to believe you are a victim and are with Shadow against your will, they will do naught to further distress your family.”
“Never attempt to second guess what a Corwin will do,” Rosalind muttered. “I can ill afford to take any risks with them.”
“Is it not worth taking a few risks to gain the happiness you deserve?” Adam asked. “Are you so willing to accept your fate? Have you no fight left in you?”
When Rosalind offered no response, he added, “Does the thought of spending the next thirty years sharing a bed with Nathaniel appeal to you? When I entered the house this eve and witnessed the fear in your eyes and the hunger in his, I saw only an animal and his prey, not a loving couple. Tell me, child, how will you endure the man’s touch night after night when it is Shadow’s you crave?”
“Please, be silent!” The anger that flashed in Rosalind’s eyes surprised the old man. “My happiness is not worth the guilt of abandoning my family and casting them to the wolves! ‘Tis my responsibility to go through with this wedding! Perhaps, in time, I may even come to love Nathaniel. Stranger things have occurred. What I feel for Shadow could prove to be naught more than an infatuation because he protected me.”
“So be it,” Adam surrendered with a long sigh. “But keep this in mind. On the morrow, Shadow’s ship will set sail and you will never see him again. Also on the morrow, Nathaniel will arrive to escort you back home…to plan for your wedding. After this eve, Rosalind, there will be no turning back. The decision you make tonight will be the one you must forever live with.”
Too Far to Whisper Page 16
