by Jerri Hines
“Until it is safe for you to return, I believe it best for you to stay here. I will look after your welfare.” He caressed her cheek, holding her face upward to him.
Distracted with his closeness, she uttered in a low voice, “I want only to go home. Please.”
“In time,” he murmured. His head lowered and hovered over her mouth. His lips finally touched hers, gently, but with an intimacy she had never felt before. She should have withdrawn, but she didn’t. He embraced her, pulling her closer. When he released her, she stumbled backwards. He caught her.
His smile broadened while his hand went to her hair, playing with it gently. “You are a strange one, Rebekah.”
With seemingly great reluctance, he released her. Only then did she notice that the rain had receded. “I will be gone for a day or two at most. I give you my word I will return. You need not be concerned about your welfare. It will be looked after most diligently, I believe. I will leave you in Annie’s care.”
She said nothing more, but watched him leave the room.
Chapter Four
The moon climbed on its unhurried pathway into the night sky, reflecting silvery halos to the low-hanging clouds. The rain ceased but swirls of drifting mists descended on the countryside. On the ground, a thick carpet of wet leaves blanketed the lawn, seeping through Rebekah’s leather shoes.
Rebekah ignored the discomfort. She needed air. She was not fearful by nature. Long she had put the cares of others before her own, but tonight…tonight she was afraid. Rubbing her hands together to warm herself, she continued her walk through the haze.
She left that woman enamored with a jug of rum. She hadn’t a clue where Tobias disappeared to after supper. Perhaps to feed the animals. She didn’t know or care. Her concentration centered only on one intent…to leave.
She fought back the panic swelling in her. She hadn’t a choice. Surely there was a town somewhere down the road or a farm that would offer her aid. She had to be long gone before Black Rory returned.
Black Rory! His image haunted her since he departed. His kiss lingered on her lips. The feeling he evoked in her, holding her in his arms, left her shaken. In a span of twenty-four hours her life altered; she would never be able to return to the life she once knew. She was ruined, without question. She had to get to Ian. Ian…he would never abandon her. Never!
“Going for a walk, my dear Miss Morse? Alone and in the dark? Not thinking of leaving, are you? Rory ain’t gonna be too happy.”
Abruptly, Rebekah turned around to the sound of the voice. Weak light made long, eerie shadows. In the darkening mist, a form approached, holding a jug in his hand.
“Where would I go?” she countered, trying desperately to maintain some level of composure.
“Where, indeed?” Tobias emerged. He took a swig from the jug. “If I was a wagering soul and I am, I would say you are trying to run off.”
“Why would you say such a thing? You act as though I’m being held prisoner or something. I don’t want to impose any further on anyone. I’m certain your friend, Annie, will be quite pleased.”
“Ain’t her call now. Rory said for us to watch ya until he returns. Don’t nobody question Rory, not even me.” He walked in front of her and halted her progress. “You do know who my brother is.”
“Black Rory,” she whispered in the wind.
A smile broadened on his face as his eyebrows rose slightly. “Well, now, ya do and you still tried to leave. Do you wish to die, Miss Morse? My brother doesn’t like to be crossed. I’ve seen him cut down a man standing straight in front of me for much less.”
Her face taut and rigid, she refused to let him see how well he intimidated her. “He has no cause. I believe you have confused my significance to your brother.”
In the dim moonlight, he looked at her dubiously. “You don’t have a clue to what’s going on.” He held the jug up to his lips and drank. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he laughed. “So ya’ think he showed up like a knight in shining armor to rescue the damsel in distress.” He laughed again.
She stiffened. “What do you mean? Rory planned my abduction?”
“God no! Only it wasn’t by accident he was there last night. Rory heard rumors. He would never disregard an opportunity when it presents itself. And one was presented.”
“But why…?”
“You’re Adam Reed’s niece. A tie to Reed and Sandler.” He paused and stared at her. “You don’t know. This is rich!”
“Then tell me,” she demanded, her fear forgotten.
“Look around you.” He swung his arms outward and twirled around in a circle. “This was once a grand plantation. It was Rory’s…Lydia’s. Rory was on top of the world. Rory built it all from nothing and began his own shipping business in Charles Town. Old Reed took offense to it. Him and Sandler.
“Four years ago in the dead of night, we were raided. I wasn’t here, but the rest of the family—every last one of them—was here. Rory, Lydia, Angus, Mother…there was no mercy. They murdered them…holding Rory, making him watch, helpless…killed everyone except Rory. You want to know why Annie don’t want you here? Lydia was her daughter.
“Do you understand now? Rory was whipped, butchered, and left for dead. Lydia and the boy…Angus was only three…trampled on by the horses. Lydia had a month left in her confinement. Another boy. You don’t even want to know how I know. Servants hadn’t a chance. Do you understand now? Rory alone survived.”
Rebekah opened her mouth and gasped for air. She needed more air. She couldn’t breathe. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She uttered in a low voice, “You are certain it was my uncle?”
He drank and emptied the jug. He threw it into the woods. “Yup! Rory got it out of those who participated. I helped, if you must know. Reed and Sandler ordered it. I believe one said Reed said it was ordained to rid the world of heathens.”
She clutched her throat. Oh, my God! The words sounded like Uncle Adam.
“So he’s going to kill me to even the score with my uncle. It makes no sense. My uncle threw me out. Disowned me.” She said the words out loud that rushed in her head.
He smirked. “Oh, my dear. There are other ways to inflict revenge.” He nodded his head toward the main house. “I’m wet and cold. Now make this easy on me and make your way back or I will have to carry you. I’m in no mood.”
“I will. I will.” She stepped back toward the house before he pushed her forward. “But you’re wrong about your brother. He has only shown me kindness. He knows my uncle wronged me. I would hold no weight in any revenge.”
“Rory—kind!” he sneered. “Rory doesn’t have a kind bone in his body. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Rory doesn’t have a heart, Miss Morse. It died the day he buried his family. Mark my word. He lives for only one purpose—revenge.”
Rebekah walked in silence back through the rear entrance. Tobias’s words echoed through her. No, there would be no sleep this night.
Abruptly, Rebekah awoke. Only a ray or two of the dawn light filtered through the boarded windows. She shivered, not knowing whether it was from the chill of the morning or the fear of the unknown. She spent a restless night on a mat she crawled on to only when exhaustion overtook her.
She stretched her legs only to feel fur at her feet. That damn dog had stayed by her side all night? At first sight, she had thought it to be a wolf, not that she had seen a wolf, but the dog was large and black-tan, with a strong jaw and brown, lively eyes. Barney. Rory’s dog, Tobias told her. She swore Tobias told the wolf to stay with her.
Truth be told, somewhere in the night she awoke in the dark shaking uncontrollably. For the life of her when she closed her eyes, images of the raid invaded her sleep. Restless, relentless visions haunted her; cries and pleas for mercy echoed in her dreams. A cool wet nose nudged her and then lay next to her. Strange, she found comfort in the act.
“That a boy.”
Rebekah petted the huge beast as she stood and began to ready for the day. He didn’t
move. She untied the laces to the bodice of the day gown she had been given. The dog lay back down. Stepping out of her night’s clothing, she wanted nothing more than a bath, but doubted that would happen in the near future. Instead, she washed with the basin’s water.
Questions resonated in her. Would Daniel and Paul be searching for her? What had Ian been told? The question that lingered—what was to become of her? Philadelphia. She had to reach Philadelphia and seek help from the Jenkins’. Whether it was under British control or not, it was her home.
Suddenly, Barney leaped up and raced out of the room, almost knocking Rebekah down on the floor. She walked to the window and looked through the boards. Dismounting his horse, her raider had returned.
Rebekah thrust down the ominous feeling of impending woe. She patted down her skirt, her hair once more set in a long braid hanging over her shoulder. Ignoring Annie’s stare, Rebekah paused at the back door before pressing against it.
Stepping out into the cool morning air, she wished briefly she had brought a shawl. She refused to go back for one. She would lose the courage to face this man…her raider. No, she thought, she had only one option…to confront Black Rory and persuade him to return her to Charles Town.
Rory unsaddled his mount. Holding the reins of the horse, he opened the gate to the field, unbridled the horse and let him go in the field. She was startled to find him turn and stare at her with a frowning intensity.
Her fleeting courage dissipated. A sudden urge to run flooded her, but the time to run had passed. He gestured for her to join him. She couldn’t refuse.
“You have missed me, I see.” He hung the bridle around the gatepost and latched it shut. He regarded her with a warm passion he did little to hide. She felt his eye move with exacting slowness over every part of her.
Indignantly, her face warmed; she breathed in deeply. “Only…I want to go home.”
The words seemed futile even to her ears. Her mind churned. Rory moved closer, but made no attempt to touch her. His brow rose while he made an assessment on her appearance.
“I trust your needs were seen to and you were comfortable in my absence.”
“If you mean I had a dry bed and food, I was.” Rebekah began to wonder whether she had made a dreadful mistake in coming out to greet him. Rory frowned as he gazed down at her. “I had wondered whether you were returning.”
“I told you I would and I hold to my word.” The scowl that came across Rory’s face made her all the more uncomfortable. “I am tired and hungry, but if you insist to know all I have found out, let us walk.”
He held his arm out to her. She had no choice but to accept. His other hand clamped on hers. She looked up. He said nothing for a time, but his smile was knowingly chiding. She drew in a breath and gathered her courage. If he would say nothing, she would begin.
“I have given everything a good deal of thought while you have been gone. I believe my best course of action is still to go to Philadelphia. It is my home no matter what has happened. I’m certain I can find assistance. I will be one less worry on you. I need only to get word to Ian…” Something in Rory’s face made her pause.
Rory snorted and drew her around to face him. “I’m afraid that will be impossible.”
“I can assure you I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”
Rory leaned down until he met her eyes. “If that was the case, you would not be here, Miss Morse.”
She blushed wildly. Once more, he had maneuvered her into his arms. She wanted nothing more than to silence him, but she couldn’t find her voice.
“I have gone to great trouble to find out all I can about your situation. From my source, it has been told that you have departed Charles Town by ship to Boston. Left on your own accord. I believe your uncle has given the impression that you ran off with some vagabond.”
“Oh, no. He could not have…”
“I’m afraid so. No one is Charles Town is looking for you.”
“Uncle Adam said he had passage for me, but surely someone…” She stopped. Her eyes brimmed with water; her lips trembled. She was, in truth, alone. She turned from him. No, he had to be wrong. She shook her head. “I need to get to Ian. He will help me.”
“I’m afraid that, too, is more bad news.”
Fear gripped her. His tone…
“Ian Cahill died. The night you were abducted. It was said his heart gave out.”
Rebekah drew back from her raider, unbelieving the words uttered, yet knowing in her heart it rang true. Her throat tightened with contained grief. Her legs collapsed underneath her and she fell on the ground. A low sob escaped her lips; tears followed, trickling down her cheeks unchecked.
Rory bent down and picked her up. He carried her up the path and into the house. He gave no pause, but continued up the stairs into the far bedroom. Rebekah took no notice of where he had taken her. She buried her head into his shoulder and wept.
The creak of the door woke her. She sprang up, her heart in her throat. For a moment, she forgot where she lay. Bright sunlight shone through the window; beneath her the comfort of a soft mattress. Slowly all came back to her: Rory carrying her in this room—his room.
A brief memory surfaced of the solace she had found in his arms. He said no words, but let her cry out her grief until she had no more tears. She remembered nothing else as she must have slept until this moment.
Swinging her legs off the bed, her feet were bare. Her shoes seemed to have been removed and swung across the floor. She looked up to find Rory’s stare on her. He had a tray of food in his hands.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore no shirt; his hair hung loose, plainly in a state of undress.
“Annie prepared a light meal. I don’t believe you have eaten.” He sat the tray on the chest.
Glancing around the room, Rebekah found most of its furniture intact. The room seemed untouched by the destruction surrounding the estate.
“It’s midday if you are wondering.”
Rory spoke, bringing her back to the present. She stood and shook her head, trying to regain a semblance of composure. The need to withdraw from the room encompassed her. She stepped back to the window.
“I don’t believe I have ever slept so long. What you must think.” She swallowed hard, turning to stare out at the day’s progress.
The sun bore down on a quiet farm. Nothing stirred, only Rory’s horse unhurried grazing on the remnants of grass that the usual warm winter weather offered.
“I think that you needed sleep.”
Footsteps told her he was close behind her, too close. A trembling set in and it had naught to do with fear. He wrapped his arm around her, posing a definite threat to her composure.
“I understand now why your uncle made you hide yourself,” he whispered in her ear. She shivered with his touch. No one had ever touched her in that manner, talked to her in that way.
“Please…”
“Rory. You haven’t called me by my name.” His hand trailed to her neck. “Tell me, Rebekah, have you ever forsaken your uncle’s wishes? Have you ever known a man?”
A new fear gripped her. She slowly shook her head. “No,” she uttered in a low, trembling voice. “I told you I wasn’t to marry…”
“Marry?” He chuckled to himself. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not. For some reason, I doubt all you tell me. Why, Rebekah, why do I not trust all you say?”
“I haven’t lied to you.”
“But perhaps not told me all I want to know. Would you withhold on me, Rebekah?”
“I don’t understand what you want and why you are so interested. I want only to be left alone…”
“Do you really want to be alone? I don’t think you do. Do you not feel what I feel…" His lips descended to her neck, kissing her lightly.
Baffled as she was, she knew she had to find a way out of his arms because even in her innocence she understood his actions. She was on dangerous ground. His lips traveled up her neck. A sensation swept t
hrough her as if her body had a mind of its own, refusing to listen to her.
His hands…in seconds her skirt bunched around her waist. His hand stroked her bare leg. She panicked. She reached out, grabbing his hand.
“Don’t, please,” she whispered.
“Don’t fight me, Rebekah,” he answered in her ear. She felt his free hand ease over her shoulder and under her bodice, caressing her soft skin until he cupped her breast. She gasped. He whispered in a soft voice, “I’m not going to hurt you, Rebekah. Let me love you.”
He kissed her neck again, softly, lingering over her sensitized skin. Her hand released his. A moment later his other hand parted her legs. Finding his objective, his fingers explored her body, his fingers—her chest heaved heavily, her breathing became rapid as a feeling a sensation began to explode in her. What was he doing to her? She let out a whimper and pressed back against him, unable to control her body. He didn’t relent.
Gone was any control she had over her body or any semblance of reason. All she knew at this moment was she didn’t want him to stop. Then he released his control and turned her to him.
In the far recess of her mind, she heard him laugh as he pushed her back to the bed. She made no resistance to his untying her bodice. Soon her gown lay on the floor, baring her to his view.
“This is what I’ve been dreaming of the last few nights,” he uttered. He kissed her. His lips began to wander over her body, all over her body. She couldn’t catch her breath…think.
Trembling, she touched his shoulder—but not in resistance—as he broke from her momentarily. She looked up at him as he discarded his breeches. For a moment she thought to press back from him, but the urge subsided as he began to kiss her again, but not sweetly this time. He took her mouth hard, releasing his hunger for her.
Even if she wanted to fight back, instincts told her not to. He was well beyond any subtle game. Her gasps told of her acceptance and he realized it. He looked immensely pleased with himself as he lay down on her.
