Turner's Vision

by Suzanne Ferrell

  “There is more than one empty room for you to stay in doctor.” She carried the dirty basins to the doorway. “I’ll have Robert make up one for you.”

  “No, no dear.” The doctor shook his head gravely. “I think I should remain right here in this room. Perhaps you could move a cot or chair in here for me? The possibility of our young friend here making it through the next few days is quite slim, I’m afraid.”

  “You think he may die, then?” Micah stood looking at the pale, battered man on the bed.

  “To be truthful, sir, I am surprised he has lasted this long. It’s as if something very important was keeping him from giving up. Perhaps it is the vital mission for the army you mentioned earlier.”

  “It could be that.” Micah continued to watch the other man as Claudia and Henderson cleaned the mess from the room. He needed to talk to Howard about Patrice.

  The doctor, Claudia and Henderson retired to the kitchen for breakfast, leaving Micah alone with their patient. He walked over to the bed and whispered in the other man’s ear. “Stay alive, Howard. I need to know what it is you know about Patrice. You stay alive long enough for me to find her, you hear me?”

  Then he turned on his heel, marched out of the room, down the stairs and outside. The door slammed behind him.

  Claudia sat sipping tea with the doctor and Henderson. Her tea cup stopped halfway to her mouth at the sound of Micah leaving the house.

  What had driven him out at this hour of the morning in such anger? She sincerely doubted it was jealousy as Dr. Schulman had suggested earlier. Knowing what little she did about her husband, she suspected it was more frustration than anything else. He’d hoped to find his sister last night. Given the shape they’d discovered Noah in, Micah had to be more desperate than ever to find Patrice.

  Maybe a long walk would cool him off and ease some of his frustration.

  She set her cup back down. Excusing herself, she headed up to check on a bed for the doctor, before retiring, herself. Henderson would take the first watch over Noah, while she and the doctor slept. Hopefully, Micah’s own exhaustion would force him to bed soon.

  * * * * *

  Cain Duncan entered his apartments weary and frustrated after a night of searching the docks for any sign of his missing agent, Noah Howard.

  What Cain needed was a drink.

  He pulled the skullcap from his head, walked into his study and tossed it onto his desk. Grabbing his whiskey decanter, he poured himself two fingers’ worth into a crystal tumbler.

  “I could use one of those,” Micah’s southern drawl sounded from the shadows on the opposite side of the room.

  Not surprised to find his former captain sitting in his study, Cain poured a second drink and crossed to the leather chairs flanking his fireplace. He handed one to Micah, then sank into the other chair and drank half of the contents of his own glass. The liquid burned down his throat. He waited a moment for the warmth to thaw his chilled body.

  “What brings you here his hour of the morning?” he finally asked.

  “I sent Henderson round to get you last night. However, your houseman said you were out. Anything to do with our investigation?”

  “Remember my missing agent?”

  Micah nodded.

  “Six months ago, I received a dispatch from the commander of the Presidio in San Francisco, informing me Noah had infiltrated an illegal trade ring as a crewman aboard an international shipping vessel. That same vessel, The Stargazer, docked two weeks ago. I haven’t had a word from him.” Cain took another drink. “So I spent the night down at the docks hoping to get some information about him.”

  “You were looking in the wrong part of town.”

  Cain paused, his glass halfway to his lips. “Where should I’ve been looking?”

  “In a warehouse across the Potomac, in Rosslyn, Virginia.”

  “And you know this how?”

  Micah set his empty glass on the table next to his chair. “Last night, Claudia and I got word someone was being held prisoner there. We’d hoped to find my sister. Turns out it’s your man.”

  Cain shot out of his chair. “Why didn’t you tell me? I need to question him.” When Micah didn’t move, a sense of dread clenched his throat. “Unless he’s dead.”

  Micah motioned him to sit. “He’s not dead. Yet. He’s unconscious and unable to give either one of us much information right now. We’ve got him at the town house and a doctor is looking after him.”

  “So, I’ll ask again. What brings you here this early in the morning?”

  “It’s time we filled the Secretary of War in on the scenario unfolding around us. Ask him to rotate the troops nearest the docks for fresh ones—all hand-selected for their loyalty. Until we know Wallace’s status or how deeply he’s involved in this scheme, we need troops we can trust available.”

  “I can do that this afternoon. Then I’ll drop by to check on Noah’s condition.” He finished his drink and walked Micah to the door. “What else do you have planned?”

  “Right now I need to see a seamstress about a ball gown, and see two Congressmen’s wives about adding to their guest list for a ball.”

  “Sounds interesting. Any particular reason to do this now?”

  “Enough innocent people have been hurt. I intend to give them a new target.”

  “Anyone we know?”

  Micah arched one brow. “Me.”

  * * * * *

  Micah returned to the town house at noon to find the good doctor watching over his patient, who had yet to regain consciousness, although he appeared more stable than earlier in the day. Dr. Schulman informed him Claudia had gone to rest not long ago.

  In search of Henderson, Micah located him with the boys, washing more sheets for the doctor’s use. He instructed Henderson to admit Miss Brauner, the seamstress, when she arrived at four, and to awaken Claudia and himself half an hour beforehand. He also gave the boys a list of instructions to carry out for the day, then headed up to join his sleeping wife, his mood much improved.

  After speaking with the seamstress, he’d visited Mrs. Ellis and Mrs. Thompkins regarding the guest list for the ball in two days. They’d invited most of the influential members of Congress, as well as the military and banking community in Washington. Micah asked that the Gibson brothers and his own brother and stepmother be included in this particular gathering. His appearance at the function was bound to catapult the group into action, either on the gold reserve or on his own person.

  He hoped Howard’s condition improved enough to give him information on Patrice’s whereabouts before the group made their play.

  The one problem that nagged at him was how did he keep Claudia from getting hurt? She was the unknown variable right now in his plan.

  He needed to get the enemy focused on him. Doing so, without them using his wife to manipulate him, was going to be tricky.

  Sliding into bed next to Claudia, Micah pulled her into his body, her backside pressed snugly against his rising manhood.

  A sense of coming home settled over him.

  This woman felt so right against him, as if no other had ever fit him.

  He moved his hand up to cup a rounded breast, his thumb brushing against the nipple until it tightened into a bud. A soft moan escaped her. Even in her sleep she was so responsive to him.

  Kissing her bare shoulder, he allowed his lips to linger on the pulse at the juncture of her throat. Claudia stirred from her slumber, wiggling her bottom across his heated member.

  He slid his hand over her smooth belly to the juncture of her thighs, over the soft curls of her mound, pressing her backwards as he cupped her heat, The softness of her cheeks cradling his thick manhood added more sweet torture to him.

  Guilt over teasing her when she was so exhausted nibbled at his mind, but his body wanted to connect with her, to know she was safe and his. He lowered his hand and let his fingers slip between her folds to find the moist heat already there, anticipating her lover.

  The
sudden need to possess her overwhelmed Micah.

  “Lift your leg, little one,” he whispered hoarsely against her ear, his breath sending shivers coursing through her. Claudia lifted her leg and he entered her with one deep thrust from behind.

  As he stroked back and forth in her heated channel, he slid his hand back up to her bud of desire, and he gently rubbed it with his finger and thumb. He caressed it to swollen ripeness, rocking her hips with his and allowing her passions to build until she moaned her climax into the pillow at her side.

  Feeling the contractions of her body along the length of his cock, he pumped faster and harder until, with one last thrust, he poured his seed deep inside her. Panting as he held her to him, connected in the most primitive way of men and women, he crooned softly in her ear.

  Exhaustion had her sound asleep again almost immediately. Micah reached down and pulled the covers up over them both.

  Claudia was definitely his weak link.

  Since he’d met her, the disturbing dreams were becoming more frequent. In the past, he’d assumed that they were meant to happen as fate, that there was nothing he could do to alter them. But now—now he had to protect her from whatever dangers the dreams meant would befall her.

  Pulling her tighter into his embrace, he knew for a fact that he was in love with the woman at his side. He’d discovered in her a woman who could restore his faith that had been destroyed so long ago. She was beautiful, intelligent, loyal and giving. All the things he’d wanted in a wife. And he protected those things that were his.

  * * * * *

  “Micah, we can’t possibly attend the Thompkins’ ball tomorrow.” Claudia said the next day as she finished tucking in the clean sheets and blankets on Noah’s bed. “I need to help Dr. Schulman here in case Officer Howard awakens and is able to give us any information on this conspiracy.”

  “Claudia.” Micah paced back and forth at the foot of the bed. “Whatever Howard has to say to us will keep until we have attended the ball tomorrow evening. This affair is being given in our honor.”

  “I didn’t ask for this particular honor.” She gathered up the sweat stained linen she’d removed from the bed. “Right now, there are more serious things occurring in Washington besides some silly dance that rich bankers and politicians have nothing better to do than attend.”

  Turning on her husband, she continued, “Frankly I would think you’d be a little more anxious to spoil these blackguards’ plans and get on with finding your sister instead of attending a party.”

  Claudia headed out the door, turning an indignant back to him. Before she reached the stairway landing, she was suddenly lifted off the floor and up against Micah’s shoulders. Her dirty linen floated down the stairs as he hauled her to their room. Kicking the door open, he deposited her in front of the flabbergasted and dismayed seamstress.

  “Do not move from that spot until you have a gown for tomorrow night’s ball. Do you understand me, wife?”

  Claudia could only nod her assent. She had yet to regain the wind he’d knocked out of her. Micah slammed the door behind him, leaving the two speechless women gaping after him. Claudia was the first to recover, her temper quickly flaring to life.

  “Oooh.” She stamped her foot in impotent outrage. “How dare he order me about? Don’t move until you have a gown for tomorrow night,” she mimicked him, both fists planted on her hips. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of her own tirade, turning a mischievous eye on the woman before her. “So, he wants me to have a new gown for the ball, does he? Well, Miss Brauner, if that’s what the big man wants, then that’s just what he’ll get. In fact, we’ll give him a gown he’ll never forget.” Taking the older woman’s hand, she pulled her over to the table and began sketching her wishes out on paper.

  “I don’t think that is what Mr. Turner had in mind, Mrs. Turner.” The seamstress held up the finished design before her. Studying it for a moment, a small smile formed on her lips. “But it would be the only one like it. Of course we couldn’t use the pastels that are all the rage right now. No, no not with your coloring. I believe I may have something…”

  The small, wren like woman fluttered over to her trunk of materials, rummaging through it until she emerged with a bolt of the deepest forest-green silk.

  “Yes, I believe this could be just the thing.” Caught up in the excitement of designing what was sure to be a fashion trend, she draped the material around Claudia’s thin shoulders. “Let’s set them on their ears, shall we, Mrs. Turner?”

  “Claudia.” Claudia smiled at the enchanting little woman.

  “Claudia, then. And I’m Lisbeth.” She smiled back and began pinning.

  * * * * *

  The next night, Claudia sat staring out the window of the conveyance as it neared the Thompkins’ country estate, nervously drumming her fingers on the seat between herself and Micah.

  He’s going to kill me. This time I’ve really gone one step too far, and he’s going to kill me.

  While they had conspired together over her gown in her bedchamber, Lisbeth had bolstered her courage in turning society upside down. They even planned on hiding their creation from Micah until they arrived at the affair, by having her ermine cape upstairs and stalling their departure until he was in a hurry to be on their way.

  Micah, already put out with her for making them late, ushered her out the door without insisting he view her gown. His anger would only double when he saw her without her cape.

  The carriage drew to a stop outside the large house. The drive and front stairs were lined with lighted candles that cast a glow on the last of the winter’s snow. Servants, dressed in black coats and tails, opened the carriage door for her, extending white-gloved hands to help her alight to the ground.

  If she weren’t so scared of her husband’s coming wrath, arriving at her first ball would’ve thrilled Claudia. She gazed up at the large, Corinthian-style house, wondering if it was a home restored to its greatness after the war. Many of the homes in Alexandria had felt the devastation of the milling troops, but had been spared the pillaging of the great homes further south.

  Micah grasped her elbow and guided her up the stone stairs to the main entrance. Removing his gloves and outer coat, he turned to help Claudia off with her cape, only to find her clutching it tightly.

  “Let me assist you with your wrap.” Micah tried to untie the ribbons at her throat.

  “Couldn’t I keep it on for just a while longer? It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight,” she pleaded.

  “I think you’ll find it impossible to dance with all this fur in place.” He chuckled at her timidity as he continued to loosen the ribbons. Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, “There is nothing to be afraid of here. I’ll be right beside you.”

  That’s what scared her the most.

  She gulped the lump in her throat and whirled around for Micah to slide the cape off of her shoulders. She braced herself for what was about to occur. At the sudden sharp sound of him sucking in his breath, she closed her eyes and prayed like she hadn’t prayed since before her father’s death.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Claudia, what in hell do you have on?” Micah clipped his words short in an effort not to throttle his wife.

  “Why, I thought you wanted me to have a new gown, dear.” Claudia turned to face him, a smile frozen on her face.

  Micah raked his gaze over her from the top of her head down to her toes, his rising anger matching his rising manhood with every inch he saw of her outfit. The thin layers of deep-green silk lay flush against her skin, fastened only at her left shoulder with a golden clip and falling from her shoulder deeply across her bosom to be gathered at her narrow waist with a chain of gold. From there it fell over her hips, and clung to her thighs down to her ankles. It left nothing of her shape to the imagination.

  A necklace of simple gold chains encircled her slender neck. Her coppery mane was piled on top of her head in coils, with the same golden threads woven into and throug
h it. Several loose strands of hair had escaped from the base to dust her shoulders and face. The effect gave her the appearance of a Greek goddess—a highly seductive, barely dressed goddess.

  “I meant one suitable for dancing at a ball, not a…a…” he blustered in frustration, throwing her cape at the waiting servant.

  “If my design doesn’t meet with your requirements then I suggest we return home where more pressing matters await us.” Claudia lifted her chin in that defiant way he’d come to see when she meant to get her way.

  It wouldn’t work. Not this time.

  “So that’s your plan.” Micah grasped her by the elbow to maneuver her to the entrance to the ballroom. As their hostess approached, he whispered into Claudia’s ear, “Any other time your scheme would have succeeded. But you see, my dear wife, tonight there are some very interesting guests here. We’re not leaving until our presence in town is brought to their attention.

  “Smile. You chose that gown, and now you’ll have to face all of these people while you wear it.” Micah turned his most charming smile on their hostess. “Good evening, Mrs. Thompkins.”

  “My dears, I am so glad you’ve arrived. Now I can introduce you as our guests of honor.” Taking Claudia by the hands, she pulled her into the room. “Your gown is simply wonderful, my dear, simply wonderful. I can tell you right now, everyone in this room will be at their dressmakers tomorrow, demanding one just like it.”

  “You’re sure it isn’t too scandalous?” Claudia asked quietly as they approached the raised platform in front of the orchestra.

  “That is exactly why everyone will want one. Now, you two wait right here. I’m going to introduce you to our guests.”

  Micah clenched his teeth to refrain from commenting on their conversation.

  The grey haired woman stepped onto the platform and signaled the orchestra leader to give the arranged fanfare.