Velvet Chains (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Arnold laughed. "Your information is a bit mixed up, Mrs. Carrington, I believe your husband will come nearer to being a traitor than I."

  Season's eyes flashed. "What do you want? State your business and leave."

  "I have come to ask permission to headquarter in your house and to put my troops in your barns. After speaking with you, I will not ask your permission. You will have your bedrooms made ready for me and my officers."

  "You are badly mistaken, sir, if you think you will sleep one night beneath my roof. I cannot prevent you and your men from sleeping in our barns, but I will not permit you to sleep in my home."

  "No, it is you that is mistaken, madam." Arnold crossed the room and threw the door open, calling for his aide.

  "Just a moment, General," Season's voice rang out. "I think you do not know whom you are addressing. Have you ever heard of the Duke of Chatsworth?"

  He turned to her and sneered. "Of course, and I have also heard of King George. What has that to do with anything? I hope you aren't going to try to convince me that you know either one of them."

  "You would do well to listen to me, General. I am in fact the Duke of Chatsworth's daughter. I don't think either my father or the king would take kindly to your visit to my home today."

  She saw doubt in Arnold's eyes. "I don't believe you, madam. What would the daughter of Lord Chats worth be doing in the middle of Virginia?"

  "Shall I tell my father that you called me a liar, sir? I wonder what that would do to your new career?"

  "I believe we will just settle this right now. Where is the English maid who answered the door?"

  Molly must have been listening at the door because she immediately came into the room looking as if she were ready to do battle. Season knew her maid was mortified by General Arnold's treatment of her.

  "You there," Arnold said, pointing at Molly. "Give me the title or last name of this lady before she became the wife of Lucas Carrington."

  Molly fixed the man with an angry glare. "My lady was, and is, the Duke of Chatsworth's daughter. You, sir, would be well advised to leave as she has asked you to."

  Benedict Arnold's cheeks puffed out and he cleared his throat. He wasn't sure if the maid was telling the truth, but he couldn't afford to make a mistake. "I am truly sorry, my lady. I hope you will forgive and forget my rudeness to you earlier. Had I known who you are, I would merely have paid my respects and left. I blame my behavior on the hostility that has been directed at me by the families in this valley. Not one family will receive me and my men."

  "I will neither forgive, nor forget your behavior here today. I will now ask you to leave my house. Since the hour is late and it is cold outside, I will allow you and your men to sleep in our barns. I trust you will be gone in the morning, and I would not be pleased if you or your men were to destroy any part of this plantation."

  Benedict Arnold sputtered and started to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Clicking his heels together, he bowed stiffly. "Your servant, my lady."

  Season looked at the man haughtily. "I trust you will instruct your men to respect my husband's property. Molly will show you out."

  He nodded, knowing he and his troops would pitch their tents down by the river. He couldn't afford to offend the daughter of a man so powerful in England.

  Season's eyes were blazing as she watched him depart. She couldn't respect a man who had turned on his own country, and she doubted that Arnold would receive a warm welcome if he ever reached England. She was sorry that her own countrymen would be sleeping in the cold tonight, but she would not permit that man to stay under her roof!

  She thought of Lucas and of what Arnold had said about him. No, she told herself, surely Lucas couldn't be classed with Benedict Arnold.

  Molly returned after showing Arnold to the door. "I never thought to see the likes of him, my lady. What's the world coming to when a lady is insulted in her own home?"

  "It wasn't he who started the insults, Molly. I had heard about his betrayal of his country, and I merely pointed it out to him."

  "I heard you well enough through the door. You can hold your own when you are of a mind to."

  "I am not feeling very well, Molly. I think I will go to bed early," Season said, standing up.

  "You go right ahead, my lady. I'll bring you a nice dinner and put a hot poultice on your chest. My mother always said there was nothing to draw the poison out of one's lungs like a hot poultice."

  "I'll take the dinner, Molly, but I will not allow you to put that smelly concoction about my neck," Season stated, walking toward the door.

  The house was dark and everyone had gone to bed, but Season was feeling restless so she threw the covers aside and walked over to the window. She stared at the distant campfires that dotted the riverbank. Those were her countrymen down there, and she felt torn inside. She now considered herself an American, and yet her heart ached for the land of her birth.

  She hoped the time would never come when she would be forced to choose sides. It was easy to defend a point of view, but when it came right down to it, could she turn her back on England? Yes. When it came right down to it, she would stand with the land of her husband's birth. How ironic it is, she thought. I want to defend the American cause, and Lucas stands with my former countrymen. Perhaps she had burned her bridges behind her when she had ordered Benedict Arnold out of her house. She doubted that Lucas would be pleased by her action.

  Season felt the chill of the room seep into her body, and she shivered. A light snow began to fall and the wind whistled down the valley. She crossed the room and climbed back into bed. When she finally fell asleep, her thoughts were very troubled.

  30

  Season slept very fretfully. She dreamed she was aboard the Andromeda and the wind was blowing in her hair. She could almost smell the warm sea breeze and feel the golden sun on her face. In her dream a man was standing just behind her, but she couldn't see his face. She held out her hand and the man took it, then moved into the light. The man was wearing a leather helm! His hands went upward to remove the mask and she saw that he was Edmund! Backing away, Season tried to run, but her feet wouldn't move. When she turned around again she saw Edmund's dead body and realized she had killed him. Suddenly there was another man behind her and she turned. He also wore a leather mask. He reached out and touched her face and she tried to escape him. But his soft touch seemed to draw her to him and he raised his face and kissed her lips.

  No, no, this is wrong, she told herself. I promised Lucas I would not betray him. But The Raven merely laughed at her pleas and his warm lips settled on hers. Season suddenly sat up in bed, fully awake. She was trembling, and it took her a few moments to realize that she had only been dreaming. She was trying to fight off her drowsiness when she heard a faint sound at the foot of her bed. The room was dark, but she tried to see what was in her room. Perhaps I am still asleep, she thought.

  Then Season's heart began to drum and she knew she was awake as a dark shadow moved toward her. She couldn't see him clearly, but she knew The Raven was in the room with her!

  "You have come back," she said in a shaky voice.

  "I couldn't stay away. I had to see you," came the deep raspy reply.

  "How did you get into the house? Are you aware that there are English troops camped by the river?"

  "No one can keep me from you. Not the whole British army."

  Season felt him touch her face and she moved out of his reach. "Go away or I will scream."

  He sat down on the bed and pulled her unwilling body into his arms. "You will not scream, my lady," he said confidently. "Are you not glad to see me?"

  "You shouldn't have come here. Please, I want you to leave now."

  "No, I will not leave until you tell me how you are feeling. I had heard that you were ill."

  "How did you—"

  "I have my sources. Tell me how you are feeling?"

  "I had a fever, but I am fine now. I have only a lingering cough."
<
br />   He touched her forehead. "You feel cool—you are no longer feverish."

  "Now that we have established that my health is good, will you go? Although I don't see why you should be concerned about my well-being."

  "I am always concerned about your welfare. You should know that by now."

  "If you don't leave I will send someone to blow your ship out of the water. I know you must be anchored off the Virginia shore."

  "Tsk tsk, but you are bloodthirsty. I am also thirsty," he said, leaning forward to touch her lips, but Season turned her head aside, realizing he wasn't wearing his mask. He knew it was dark in her bedroom and she wouldn't be able to see his face.

  "I despise all men," she said scrambling off the bed and running toward the window. "You think all you have to do is say a few pretty words and all will be forgiven. I am weary of hearing pretty words. I wish you would leave me alone! How much more do you think I can take?"

  The Raven leaped across the bed and lifted Season in his arms. "It is far too cold for you to be up, my lady. The place for you is in the bed." He placed her on the bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. "Now, isn't that better?"

  "No, and I am still angry with you."

  "Tell me why are you mad at all men. We are not such a bad lot when you get to know us. Perhaps you are speaking of your husband. Do you tire of married life so soon?"

  "I will not discuss Lucas with you."

  He sat down beside her, and she played with the ring on her finger. "Perhaps I will leave if you will give me but one small kiss."

  "No! I will not."

  "Surely you wouldn't send me out on such a night without a kiss from your lips to warm my heart."

  "If you have something to say, Raven, say it and leave. I will not allow you to kiss me . . . besides I promised Lucas I wouldn't—"

  "Wouldn't what, my lady?"

  "Please leave me alone, Raven. Leave me with some shred of decency. I beg you to allow me to retain my honor."

  "My sweet lady, I never intended to make you suffer. I will leave if it is your wish, but please do not send me away without a taste of your lips." His hand clamped on her chin raising her face to his.

  "I dare not," she whispered, as her heart swelled with love for this man whom she didn't really know. She had once thought she would know The Raven if she ever saw him unmasked, but now she wasn't so sure. Not after what had happened with Edmund.

  "Would you deny me one little kiss just because of a promise you made to your husband?"

  "Would you respect me if my word was so easily broken, Raven?"

  "Say that you don't really want me to leave. Give me at least that much."

  "You must go. I would not want you to be captured by your enemies."

  He pulled her tightly against him and laid his cheek to hers. "You have bewitched me, my lady. I would risk any danger for just a smile from your lips."

  His deeply spoken words sent a thrill through Season's body. "You shouldn't be saying these things to me," she said, trying to hold on to her sanity.

  "I have to make a confession, my lady. I have been through hell, for I know it was my fault that you lost our baby. If only I could hear you say you forgive me, then I could leave with a lighter heart."

  Season wished she could see his features, if only to know whether he was sincere, but his face seemed to blend with the night shadows. "If I say I forgive you, will you go and never return again?"

  "Would you be speaking the truth?"

  "Not exactly. Because of you I have killed a man. I do not blame you for the accident that took my baby, but I do blame you for the fact that I committed murder to save your life. I will never forgive you, or myself."

  "You were not at fault, my lady. Had you not killed Edmund, you would have lived to regret it."

  "I regret it now! Just go away, Raven."

  "If I do leave, I cannot promise to stay away from you, my lady. Something keeps pulling me back to you."

  Season tried not to listen to his words. From past experience she knew The Raven could use words to his best advantage. "You must go," she said, pushing him away. "If the soldiers return they will arrest you."

  "Would you care so much? Perhaps you would view my arrest as justice. I have heard you say many times that you would like to see me hanged."

  "I would like to see . . . the last of you."

  "I wonder if you speak the truth, my lady. If you hate me so much, why have you told no one what you know about the crew of the Andromeda? There are many things you could have told Lucas Carrington about me and my men, yet you did not. I wonder why."

  "How do you know what I have told my husband?"

  "I have ways of finding out about you, but you haven't answered my question. Another thing you might think about, if you wanted to see the last of me, you could have allowed Edmund to kill me that night."

  "I do not intend to answer any of your questions. Do you see no shame in entering a married woman's bedroom? What if someone were to find you here?"

  "No one will ever know I have come to your room unless you tell them. I seem to have no shame and no pride where you are concerned. Allow me to stay with you for a while and talk. You have my word I will not try to touch you ... unless you want me to."

  "What good would it do for me to ask you to leave? I have done so repeatedly, and still you are here. Why don't you seek out a woman who would be more willing than I to entertain you in her bedroom?"

  "Alas, I cannot, for since the first time I tasted your lips, I have wanted no other." His voice was deep and disturbing as always, and she hated the way her heartbeat increased at his pretty words.

  Season got out of bed and walked over to the fireplace, but she found no warmth there since the fire had gone out. "You will never make me believe you have been standing on the deck of the Andromeda pining away for me. I know you better than that, Raven."

  He moved closer to her. "Tis true, my lady. But most of all I have been in the depths of hell, thinking you blamed me for the death of our child." He pulled her into his arms. "I admit I have wronged you in many ways, my lady. Say you forgive me and release me from this torment."

  Season closed her eyes because she could feel tears gathering. She knew that The Raven was speaking from his heart. No matter how he may have teased and goaded her in the past, she felt The Raven was sincere this time. She could feel his suffering like a pain within her own breast.

  "Oh, yes, I forgive you all. In your pain, I also feel hurt," she cried out.

  He clasped her hands tightly together. "I love you, my lady. Should I never gaze upon your face again, I would take a vision of you to my grave."

  A sob tore from her lips. "You are far more fortunate than I, for I have never seen your face, yet I shall remember you for the rest of my life."

  "I am tempted to light a candle so you might gaze upon my face, my lady. You have but to say the word and I will reveal myself to you."

  "No, I have no right to know your true identity. Do not give me knowledge which might later be used to betray you."

  She heard him take a ragged breath. "Would that I were your husband, my lady. I would count myself the most fortunate of men."

  Season tried to shut out what he was saying. He had no right to say such things to her—and she had no right to listen to him. "Raven, I will ask one thing of you. Something happened and it has been bothering me for some time."

  "You have only to state what you wish from me, for I can deny you nothing."

  "After the accident, when I lost the baby, did you come to me?"

  "Yes."

  "Then it was not a dream?"

  "I came to you hoping to give you back your life. I knew it was because of me you lost my…" His voice sounded very strained and he couldn't continue.

  She wanted to cradle his head against her breast and tell him that she felt the loss of their child as deeply as he. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she couldn't break her vow to Lucas.

  "I will say
this to you, Raven, and then I want you to leave and never come to me again. I would have died had it not been for you. When I heard your voice you literally pulled me out of death's grip. You saved my life and I will be eternally grateful for that."

  The Raven seemed tense and undecided. "Do you love Lucas Carrington?"

  "Yes."

  "Surely you cannot love him. Was it not my voice you heard when you were so ill? That is the proof that you love me!"

  "I will always keep a special place in my heart for you, but I will never allow you to take anything away from my husband, Raven."

  "You may think you love your husband, but every time he takes you in his arms you will think of me." He moved to the door and paused. "I will come to you but one more time. When this war is ended I will seek you out. At that time I will ask you to decide whether you love me ... or Lucas Carrington."

  Season didn't know he had left until she heard the door close softly. She started shaking and fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Dear God in heaven, she loved two men, and in her mind she couldn't decide which one of them she was betraying.

  31

  June, 1781

  The war between the United States and England raged on. General Charles Cornwallis advanced through the South and on into Virginia. He sent dispatches to General Clinton urging him to bring all-out war to the South, but Lord Clinton feared if he sent troops to Cornwallis' aid, he would weaken his forces in New York. Not knowing where to commit his forces, Clinton ordered Cornwallis to take up a position in Virginia and hold it at all cost.

  Cornwallis marched his troops toward the Chesapeake, pursued by Lafayette who had been hounding his rear. Making for the sea, Cornwallis hoped to be rescued by the British fleet. What he didn't count on was the aggressiveness of the French so he became hopelessly trapped between Lafayette and the sea.

  An urgent dispatch went out to General Clinton in New York, asking him to hasten his troops to the South or the war would be lost.