The Valiant Hearts Romance Collection

by Kristin Billerbeck

  Or was he?

  Setting down her tea, Permelia studied the odd expression on his face, which harbored more confusion than admiration. Annie would have noticed it, too, if she took the time to look at him. But even sitting on his unscarred side, she barely glanced his way.

  Permelia, on the other hand, found it increasingly difficult to tear her gaze from him. In fact, she hardly noticed his rippled flesh anymore.

  Annie pouted. “How nice to hear that not everything was destroyed by this horrid war. Why, we have struggled for so long, I cannot imagine living without worrying every day how we are to survive.”

  William laid a hand over hers. “When we are married, you need never concern yourself with such things again.” He turned to Permelia. “And of course I will institute a good overseer for the plantation. You will be well cared for here.”

  “You are too kind.” Emotion burned in Permelia’s throat, and she gazed down at her hands folded in her lap. She was truly happy for Annie and William. Their marriage would be good for everyone. So would be happy, and Permelia would not have to worry about money ever again. Then why were her insides flopping like a fish caught in a jumbled net of jealousy? Just being with them, watching them together, drained the life from her soul. She had always prided herself on her kindness, her charity, and her obedience to God. What was wrong with her?

  Standing, she intended to excuse herself to see about supper when the front door slammed open. Boot steps pounded over the marble foyer, and all eyes turned to see Sergeant Jackson Steele appear in the doorway.

  William rose slowly. Something on the man’s face had him reaching for the sword at his hip. Which was absent, of course.

  Jackson’s sword, however, was not. In fact, the polished metal winked at William in the final rays of the setting sun angling through the window.

  Permelia gasped.

  Annie froze. Her eyes took on a skittish look. “Whatever are you doing here, Jackson?”

  The man sauntered into the parlor as if he’d been there a thousand times before. “I came to set things straight.” Dressed in a freshly pressed dark uniform with light blue stripes, he held his cap in one hand while the other hovered precariously over the hilt of his sword. Sharp gray eyes scanned the room with impunity from within a finely sculptured face.

  Annie struggled to stand. “Jackson, may I introduce William Wo—”

  “We’ve met, love.” Jackson sneered.

  Love. The hair on the back of William’s neck stood at attention.

  Pressing down her skirts, Annie sashayed toward the intruder. “This is hardly the time, Jackson.” She clutched his arm and attempted to tug him out the door.

  “Let him speak,” William said. It was fine time he discovered the truth. Annie certainly wasn’t being forthright. And Permelia, sweet Permelia, never said a disparaging word about anyone.

  Disgust at William’s scarred face reflected in Jackson’s eyes. “Annie and I are engaged, Colonel.” He took Annie’s hand and threaded it through his outstretched arm. “And I insist you leave at once. It isn’t proper for you to be lodging with two unattached women.”

  Pulling away from Jackson, Annie’s face paled. She lifted a hand to her forehead while Permelia rushed to her side.

  “You would be well advised to curb your tone when speaking to a superior, Sergeant,” William said as both confusion and fury rampaged through him.

  “You pull rank on me in so personal a matter?” He gave a tight grin. “Very well, I will alter my tone, but that does not alter the truth that Annie is still engaged to me.”

  William glanced at his fiancée, hoping she’d tell the man the truth, but she seemed to be having trouble breathing. “The lady tells a different story, Sergeant. As I understand it, she offered you her kind regard in exchange for protection from vandalism. That is all.”

  Jackson snorted. “‘Kind regard’. Is that what she’s calling it?” A salacious gleam sparked in his eyes as they swept over Annie.

  William took a step toward him. Sword or not, he would put this mongrel in his place if he dared say another word to impugn Annie’s reputation.

  “Please go, Jackson,” she breathed out as Permelia led her to a chair.

  “Not until you tell him the truth, love.”

  “There is no need for an altercation,” Permelia pleaded. “I’m sure we can work this out.”

  “Indeed we can,” Jackson said, gesturing toward William, “if this man leaves.” He raised his brows toward Annie. “Love, do tell the colonel.”

  Annie stared at William, her wide eyes brimming with tears. Her lips trembled. Her gaze bounced between William and Jackson. She opened her mouth, then slammed it shut. Finally, clutching her skirts, she darted from the room. The pitter-patter of her shoes and the whimper of her tears echoed down the stairs.

  Jackson glared at William. “If you aren’t gone by tomorrow, I assure you, sir, you will regret my acquaintance.”

  “I fear it is too late for that, Sergeant.” William returned his glare.

  “We shall see.” Shoving his hat atop his head, Jackson spun around and stormed from the room. A second later the front door slammed with an ominous thud.

  William glanced at the stairs where Annie had fled. Should he follow her? Comfort her? Demand the truth? But no, that wouldn’t be proper.

  Permelia sank into the chair her sister had vacated. “Please forgive her, William. I warned her not to entertain that man’s affections. But … Well, she’s endured so much pain.”

  “No more than you, and you haven’t aligned yourself with a blackguard.”

  She gave a bitter chuckle. “I’m afraid that option was not open to me. I lack both the charm and the beauty of my sister.” She pressed her hands over her skirts as if trying to smooth the wrinkles and remove the stains.

  William found the action adorable. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong on both counts. He wanted to tell her that he’d been unable to keep his eyes from her ever since she’d walked into the room. Now, gazing at her sun-pinked cheeks and the way the loose strands of her cinnamon-colored hair wisped across her neck, his heart took an odd leap.

  “Besides, God has protected us,” she said, “not Jackson.”

  As if drawn by an invisible rope, William took a step toward her. “Such resilient faith.”

  She graced him with a smile. “Isn’t it trials that strengthen our faith? I’m sure you found much solace in God’s presence during the war.”

  William swallowed. “Quite the opposite.” He rubbed his mutilated cheek, numb to the touch. “I could not reconcile a loving God with the horrors I witnessed.”

  Gripping the chair, she stood, her forehead wrinkling. “Do not say such things, William. You cannot blame God for man’s failings.”

  William stared at her, studying her humble stance, her graceful neck and delicate jaw. Before he could stop himself, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “You make me want to believe that.”

  Her eyes flitted between his like skittish doves afraid to land. Fear and a yearning that surprised him flashed across them. She tried to say something, but the air between them had vanished, replaced by her scent of wildflowers and sunshine. He drew in a deep breath and caressed her hand, his body thrilling at the feel of her skin. “Why do I feel as though I know you so well, Permelia?” He sighed. “While Annie seems like a stranger to me.”

  “Please don’t say such things.” She tugged her hand from his, making him regret his honesty. “Annie doesn’t mean to be cruel. She is confused, hurting.” She looked away.

  “Why do you always make excuses for her behavior?” Reaching up, he touched her chin and brought her gaze back to his. A curl fell across her cheek. He eased it behind her ear, running his thumb over her skin—soft like the petal of a rose.

  A tremble ran through her. She closed her eyes.

  And William’s restraint abandoned him. He lowered his lips to hers. Moist and soft. Just as he had imagined them.
But what he had not imagined was how welcoming they would be. The room dissolved around him. Nothing mattered but Permelia and the press of her lips on his, her sweet scent, her taste. Then she pulled away, but ever so slightly. Their breath mingled in the air between them. What was he doing? He tried to shake off her spell, but it wrapped around his heart, refusing to let go.

  She raised her gaze to his, candlelight reflecting both confusion and desire.

  He ran the back of his hand over her cheek, longing to draw out the precious moment. Pressing his lips on hers once again, he pulled her close.

  A footfall padded outside the parlor.

  Followed by a gasp.

  Permelia pushed away from him. Remorse screamed from her eyes before she darted from the room.

  Tossing off her quilt, Permelia swung her legs over the bed and lit a candle. She’d spent the past several hours listening to the wind whistling past her window, the distant hoot of an owl, and the creak of the house settling. Or was someone else up and moving about? She gave up trying to tell. Regardless, sleep eluded her. Along with her sanity and possibly her salvation.

  She had kissed William! She’d allowed him to touch the bare skin of her hands, her cheek. Her lips.

  Shame lowered her gaze to the sheen of moonlight covering the wooden floor. There was no excuse for her behavior. She knew that. She had begged God for His forgiveness. Had prayed it had all been a dream. But the tingle that still coursed through her body told her otherwise.

  When William had grabbed her hand, her heart had all but stopped. She should have pulled away then. Should have resisted him. Then when he had caressed her cheek, her breath escaped. And she couldn’t move.

  But when his lips had met hers, Permelia’s world exploded in a plethora of sensations: the scratch of his stubble on her chin, his masculine scent filling her nose, his warm breath caressing her cheek. She felt as though she were another woman in another world. A world where William loved her, not Annie.

  Thank God a noise from the foyer had stopped them or who knows how far into debauchery she would have sunk.

  Sliding from her bed, Permelia hugged herself and started toward the window. But why had William kissed her? She could make no sense of it. No doubt it was simply an emotional response, a need for comfort in the face of Jackson’s threats and Annie’s rejection.

  Hinges creaked behind her. A loud crash sent her heart into her throat. She spun around to see the door bouncing off the wall and Annie charging into the room like an angry apparition. Setting her candle down, she approached Permelia, her eyes molten steel.

  And Permelia knew she had seen William kiss her. She tried to back away, but Annie raised a hand and struck her across the cheek. “How dare you?”

  Pain radiated across Permelia’s face and down her neck. Laying a hand on her stinging skin, she lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I … he … I don’t know how it happened.” A sob caught in her throat. “Oh Annie, I’m so sorry. It was nothing.” But she lied even now. William’s kiss had meant everything. Even so, she was nothing but a shameless hussy—a woman who had kissed another woman’s fiancé.

  “You’re sorry! That’s all you have to say for yourself?” Annie’s voice boiled. “I’ve been pacing my room all night trying to figure out how my loving sister could justify kissing my fiancé.”

  Permelia had no answer. No excuse. Gathering her resolve, she finally looked at her sister, absorbing the scorn, the hatred searing in her eyes. Permelia deserved it all. The vision of her sister blurred beneath a torrent of tears.

  The fury on Annie’s face faded, replaced by a haunted look. “Wasn’t it enough that you stole Father’s heart from me? That he always loved you more than me?”

  “That isn’t true.” Permelia took a step toward her, her mind reeling.

  Annie spun around, sending her silk night robe twirling in the moonlight. She lowered her head and sobbed. “Yes it is. And you know it. Perfect little Permelia.” She waved a hand over her shoulder. “Papa’s eyes always lit up when you came in the room.”

  Permelia’s heart sank. She’d never realized. Everyone adored Annie. All the young boys at school. All her friends. Mother. “I’m so sorry, Annie, I didn’t—”

  Annie’s eyes flashed. “William doesn’t love you.” Her gaze traveled over Permelia with disdain. “How could he love someone like you?” Then with a lift of her chin, she floated from the room on a puff of white silk.

  The slam of the chamber door thundered through Permelia’s heart. Her legs gave way. Sinking to the floor, she dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. How could she have missed Annie’s pain all these years? The rejection she had felt from their father? While Permelia had relished in her father’s adoration, Annie’s heart had been breaking. Selfish, insensitive girl. Permelia pounded the carpet with her fists, watching her tears fall and sink into the stiff fibers. Finally, hours later, she collapsed in a fit of exhaustion.

  The sweet trill of birds drifted on the first glow of dawn. Permelia woke with a start. Struggling to stand, she brushed the tear-caked hair from her face and gazed out the window. Across the fields, darkness retreated from the advancing light.

  And she remembered that God’s mercy was new every morning.

  “Thank You, Lord. Thank You for Your mercy and forgiveness.”

  Now she must do her best to gain Annie’s. And to be a better sister. A better follower of Christ.

  But one thing was for sure. For the remainder of William’s time at the plantation, Permelia must do everything in her power to avoid him.

  Chapter 6

  Rubbing his eyes, William entered the dining room, lured by the smell of coffee and biscuits and the hope that he’d have a chance to speak with Permelia about their kiss. A kiss that had kept him up most of the night. A kiss that still lingered like a sweet whisper on his lips. A kiss he should never have stolen. A touch of her skin he should never have enjoyed. All behaviors so unlike him. Behaviors that were no doubt caused by the weariness of war, coupled with the pain of Annie’s inability to look at his face.

  He sighed. Regardless of his attraction to Permelia, he had vowed to marry Annie. And a Wolfe never went back on his word.

  Approaching the buffet table, William poured a cup of coffee when a sound brought his gaze to the door. Pressing down the sides of her skirt, Annie flounced into the room. Her bright eyes glanced over him but did not remain.

  “William, I hoped to find you here.”

  He froze, stunned by her presence so early in the morning.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, William.” She tilted her head, a coy smile on her lips. “Tell me how beautiful I look.” She sashayed toward him. “Like you used to do.”

  William sipped his coffee, admiring the way the sunlight caressed her golden hair. “You know how beautiful you are, Annie. You need no affirmation from me.” He stepped aside as she poured herself a cup of tea, a pleased look on her face. Had she always been this vain?

  He cleared his throat. “What I’d like to know is the truth, Annie.”

  “About what?” She plucked a biscuit from a tray, grabbed her tea, and moved to the table.

  “You know about what.” His gaze followed her, though he found no allure in the bowlike pout on her lips or the sway of her silk bustle. “I refer to Jackson Steele. You left before answering the sergeant’s question.”

  She waited for him to pull out her chair. “Why, William, I’ve already told you why I befriended the man.”

  After seating her, William retrieved his coffee from the buffet and sat opposite her. “Somehow he seems to have gotten the wrong impression.”

  “Indeed. He’s become quite obstinate.” She bit her biscuit.

  “Perhaps because you refuse to tell him the truth. Or perhaps it’s me to whom you’re lying?” He raised his brows.

  “How can you suggest such a thing?” Sky-blue eyes locked upon his, then shifted to the right side of his face. Gulping, Annie looked away.

  Oddly, he
r aversion no longer pained him. He thought of the familiar way Jackson had gazed at her. The way he had called her “love” still rankled William, but not in the way it should.

  “I find Sergeant Steele’s intimate tone with you most inappropriate.”

  “What are you implying?” Her eyes misted. Four years ago, those glistening tears would have brought him to his knees before her, begging her forgiveness.

  Instead they pricked his suspicion. “Nothing. I demand honesty. And that you choose one of us.”

  “Why, William, I have chosen.” Yet the wobble in her voice did not convince him. She set down her biscuit and dabbed a napkin over her lips. “Let’s go for a picnic today, shall we? Perhaps if we spent time together … like old times.” She gave a sad smile and gazed out the window before facing him again.

  William finished his coffee, setting the cup a bit too hard on the table. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he had expected too much from someone as delicate as Annie—expected her to accept his disfigurement as if everything was still the same. He chastised himself for his impatience. Beneath all the fluff and Southern charm lurked a woman of substance, of character, and of faith—the woman he had fallen in love with through her letters. Perhaps it would just take time for that part of her to surface.

  And for the first time since he arrived, Annie seemed willing to try.

  Permelia entered the room. Tossing his napkin on the table, William stood, an unavoidable smile spreading across his lips.

  She flinched as if shocked to find them there. A breeze toyed with the hem of her lacy petticoat. She’d arranged her hair in one long braid that hung down the front of her gown. Her eyes latched upon his, then quickly sped away as a pink hue crept up her neck onto her face.

  “Oh Permi.” Annie rose, pressed down her skirts, and glided to William’s side. Flinging her arms about his neck, she kissed him on the cheek. His good cheek, of course. “William and I are going to take the carriage out for a picnic today. Aren’t we, William?”