Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1)

by Phoebe Conn

  Since the wedding in May, Graham had been far less talkative and much better company, but Alanna had never flirted with him, nor given him any reason to believe they were more than friends. She only saw him on Sundays when he came to the house for dinner after church, but it had always been with Melissa and Ian, and she considered him more Ian's friend than hers. She had seen sly glances pass between her cousin and aunt, and wondered if she had somehow given them the wrong impression, then Graham might misunderstand her views, too.

  The following Sunday Graham was again invited to come for dinner, and Alanna felt uneasy throughout the meal. If Graham had mentioned that he would like to ask for permission to call on her the way Randolph O'Neil had, she would have had the perfect opportunity to explain she had no desire for beaus. He had not done so, however, and it struck her as absurd to announce to a man who had never expressed an interest in courting her, that she had no wish to become his wife.

  She looked up to find him watching her and tried to smile. The night of the Governor's Ball he had commented upon her reluctance to be with him, but she had been so worried about Melissa disappearing, she had brushed his question aside. Such haste to avoid personal topics now seemed unforgivably rude, but she was grateful he had not expressed his feelings again. After dinner, when he asked if she would like to join Melissa and Ian for a walk down by the river, she felt relaxed enough around him to accept.

  Melissa and Ian walked only as far as the river's edge, however, before they chose a spot to sit and rest, but at Graham's urging, Alanna led him toward a winding trial that bordered the river for miles. It was wide enough for two people to walk side by side comfortably, and they strolled for some distance before Graham spoke.

  "I know compliments make you cringe, but that dress is one of my favorites. The violets almost appear real."

  "Thank you. I don't mean to cringe, Lieutenant. I'm sorry if I've offended you in the past."

  "If you'd offended me, I'd not be with you here now, would I?"

  "I'm afraid I know so little about men that I'm not sure."

  Thinking she was teasing him, Graham laughed. "I keep forgetting that you're a year younger than Melissa. You're so much more mature in your attitudes that I thought you were the eldest, until Ian explained otherwise."

  "You've talked to Ian about me?"

  "Of course. I can't believe that you and Melissa haven't once talked about me."

  Now it was Alanna who couldn't suppress a smile. "Yes, I'll admit upon occasion we have."

  "And what do you say?"

  Alanna knew Graham was providing her with the perfect opportunity to confide her desire to remain unmarried, but at the same time, she feared expressing it would be as rude as many of the other thoughtless remarks she had made to him. "I'd really rather not say," she finally replied. "This has been an especially pretty summer, hasn't it?"

  Graham stopped abruptly and, afraid Alanna would walk right on by him, he put out his arm to stop her. "Please, if you would only give me some slight hope that you like me, it would mean so much to me."

  Graham's expression was painfully sincere, but Alanna could not begin to understand how desperate he felt. "I do like you, Lieutenant. You're a very nice man."

  "If a bit too talkative?"

  "I shouldn't have said that."

  "No, I disagree. You must always tell me precisely what you think and feel, or I'll never learn how to please you."

  "Is pleasing me so very important to you?"

  "Oh, yes, you mean the world to me."

  Graham was attractive, pleasant, and kind, but Alanna felt not the smallest stirrings of affection for him. Melissa and Ian were always touching, hugging, and kissing, if they thought no one was watching them. She understood how much pleasure each received from being with the other, because it was obvious in their expression and manner, but she felt no such joy with Graham.

  "I do like you as a friend, Graham. Please don't ask me for anything more."

  Graham took that small concession on her part as a victory and his expression lit with triumph. He leaned over and gave her cheek a quick kiss, and then took her hand to continue their walk. "I'm grateful you want me for a friend," he said. "I don't mean to pry, but there isn't another man you like better, is there?"

  Alanna shook her head. "You're simply impossible, aren't you?"

  "Where you're concerned I am. Now please answer my question. Is there someone else?"

  "No," Alanna assured him quickly, and again he flashed a wide grin. She knew other women considered him handsome. The Frederick sisters certainly did. He was bright, too, during dinner he always entered discussions with her uncle with a confidence born of knowledge of the subject. He was undoubtedly a fine prospect for a husband, but as she walked by his side, her conviction to avoid marriage never wavered.

  Chapter 11

  Byron offered an apology to Hunter before they reached Will's Creek, but it was coolly shrugged off and their relationship never resumed its former warmth. While the Indian and Elliott had grown closer during the four months they had served together, Byron came away from the experience feeling bitter and alone. When their bateau reached their plantation dock one hot August afternoon, he felt none of the elation of his last visit home.

  Elliott was in only marginally better spirits than Byron, but he was consoled by the fact that their defeat was common knowledge throughout the colonies, so they would not have to disclose the wretched news themselves. It was a small comfort, but he clung to it. Both he and Byron had lost weight, and their faces no longer retained any trace of youthful softness. They had left home as exuberant young officers of twenty-one and twenty-three, and returned home hardened veterans of what they now regarded as a futile campaign.

  Unlike the Barclay brothers, Hunter had not been burdened by the guilt of defeat. He had done his best under the worst of circumstances, and took pride in it. He would have preferred to return to Virginia with exciting stories of their victory to entertain Melissa, but lacking those, he knew there were other far more pleasurable ways for them to pass their time.

  While Byron and Elliott climbed out of the bateau slowly, he leapt over the side and had to fight the impulse to run up the path to the house, shouting Melissa's name. After waiting four long months to see her, any further delay was excruciating, but he had to adopt an impassive expression, as though his visit were without the special significance Melissa's presence gave it.

  John and Rachel hurried down to the dock to greet their sons, and Alanna followed along closely. They were all enormously relieved to see Byron and Elliott had returned home unharmed, and greeted Hunter politely. "Did you get my letters?" Rachel asked. "The one you sent from Alexandria made no mention of Ian and Melissa, so I feared none of my letters reached you."

  "Mail delivery was haphazard at best, Mother," Byron explained. "Was there a particular reason you wrote to us about them?"

  Rachel turned to her husband. "You know I wrote to them."

  "Yes, my dear, but it's no wonder they didn't get the news of the wedding."

  "Wedding?" Elliott asked. "Are Melissa and Ian engaged?"

  "They were married in May," Rachel rushed to explain. "It was a wonderful wedding, and we missed you both terribly. That's not the only news though, we'll have a grandchild in January!"

  Byron and Elliott were quite naturally surprised to learn of their sister's sudden marriage and expected child, but Hunter was stunned to hear the woman he loved had wed another. Angry tears stung his eyes, and as he turned to hide them his gaze met Alanna's. She had undergone such a dramatic change since April that he almost didn't recognize her. She could no longer be mistaken for a servant, now that she wore an attractive gown and lace-trimmed cap. Her manner was confident rather than timid. Afraid she could see his pain, he turned back to the bateau and began unloading it.

  He had expected to have to hide his feelings until he and Melissa could be alone, but love would have been far easier to conceal than the despair he now felt
. He heard John Barclay curse the lack of support from other colonies as a factor in their defeat, and realized that whatever sorrow he displayed would be mistaken for the same anguish Byron and Elliott were making no attempt to disguise. They were merely discouraged, however, and he was heartbroken.

  By the time he had set the last piece of luggage on the dock, Hunter had his emotions under firm control. He would not scream and plead when he saw Melissa, he would simply ask her to explain why she had made love to him, and then wed another. She was a passionate woman, and he was not surprised she and Ian had conceived a child so quickly, but that was a small insult compared to the betrayal of her marriage.

  It wasn't until they reached the porch and he saw Melissa waiting at the door, that her motives instantly became clear. She may have been wed only three months, but the fullness of her bosom and thickening at her waist made it plain her journey toward motherhood was further advanced. When she avoided his glance, he knew with a devastating certainty that her child was his.

  He dropped his belongings on the porch and, unable to offer a coherent excuse, walked away.

  "Hunter?" Elliott called.

  Hunter turned back to wave, but kept on walking. He had been a full-grown man at sixteen, and in the last eight years he had known several woman as intimately as he had known Melissa, but none had touched his heart. Sweet memories of the stolen moments they had shared had never left his mind, but obviously her thoughts had seldom, if ever, strayed to him. That he had given her a child apparently meant nothing to her, or she would have sent for him, and he would be her husband rather than Ian.

  He remembered Ian as a likable young man with a friendly smile, but there was nothing remarkable about him. He was white, of course, and apparently that was all that had mattered to Melissa. She had chosen to wed an English gentleman rather than an Indian brave. He was accustomed to white men attempting to take advantage of him, but this was the first time a white woman had succeeded in doing so, and he had never felt so humiliated. Melissa had used him, perhaps merely to satisfy her curiosity, and then gone on to Ian.

  Torn by the desire to turn his back on Melissa forever, and the equally strong need to confront her, Hunter ran along the river until he had taken the edge off his rage. He then began to play out scenes in his mind, in an attempt to find words that would convey his disgust in a manner Melissa would never forget. There was nothing he could say that would be too mean after what she had done to him, and he practiced insults until he was certain his would ring in her ears forever.

  With their father's encouragement, Byron and Elliott described their recent adventure, but Alanna excused herself at the first mention of bloodshed. While she had listened to her cousins' tale, she had been haunted by the memory of Hunter's agonized expression when he had learned of Melissa's marriage. He had tried to hide his pain, and had succeeded with the others, but she was far more observant. She could appreciate his need for solitude, but at the same time, she did not want him to suffer needlessly.

  As she started across the lawn toward the dock, Alanna could not help but marvel at the improvement in her attitude since Hunter's first visit. She had been terrified of him, not for who he was, but simply for what he was, and that had been most uncharitable of her. Due to her aunt and cousin's encouragement, she was more comfortable in the company of others now, and because she felt she owed him an apology, she thought this might be the perfect time to give it. As she had suspected, he was down by the river, but he had left his buckskins and moccasins on the dock and was swimming. Not wanting to embarrass either of them, she turned back toward the house, but Hunter had already seen her and called out her name.

  Alanna turned around slowly. "I wanted to speak with you, but it can wait."

  Hunter reached the dock in three long strokes, but remained in the water. He flipped his hair out of his eyes. "Did Melissa send you?" he asked.

  A sense of obligation had prompted Alanna to deliver an apology, but she was surprised by how much his question hurt. "No, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I had a message of my own."

  Hunter cursed his own stupidity for even imagining Melissa might have sent her cousin in her place, but he wasn't so lost in his own misery that he didn't notice the sudden change in Alanna's mood. The newly confident young woman who had stood before him only moments before had disappeared, and in her place he saw the same sad, sweet waif he had known. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you either. Turn around, and I'll come out and dress."

  Alanna did as he asked, but what had struck her as a good idea when she had left the house, now seemed a fool's errand. Like so many men before him, Hunter was infatuated with Melissa, and he wouldn't care what Alanna had to say. He probably wouldn't even hear it. When he touched her shoulder, she jumped in surprise, but managed a faint smile as she turned toward him.

  He had donned only his britches, and the water dripping off his hair was rolling down the muscular planes of his chest in slippery trails that caught her eye, and made it difficult for her to meet his gaze. The deep bronze of his skin added to the aura of masculine perfection, and while she knew she was staring, he was so attractive it was impossible not to. This was the first time she had seen him as a man rather than a dreaded savage. That he would prove to be so appealing was such a shocking sensation, she fought to force it away, but she had to clasp her hands tightly to resist the temptation to reach out and touch him.

  Thoroughly distracted, she could scarcely recall why she had come looking for him. Finally, she began haltingly, "The last time you were here, my memories governed my behavior, and I was very rude to you. You didn't deserve it, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am."

  Alanna's expression was so painfully sincere, Hunter had no difficulty believing her. He now doubted that Melissa had meant anything she had told him, but Alanna impressed him as a woman whose emotions couldn't be hidden to enable her to lie. "The fault was mine, too," he replied.

  "Oh, no, it was not," Alanna argued. "You were very kind, and I simply wasn't able to appreciate it. I know I must have hurt your feelings, and I'm so sorry."

  Hunter frowned slightly. "Most people do not even realize Indians have feelings."

  Alanna glanced back over her shoulder and, seeing no one in view, hastened to add another thought. "Please, you mustn't judge Melissa too harshly. Men have always adored her, but I fear she seldom took their attentions seriously. It's plain that you like her, and I understand why finding she's married Ian would disappoint you, but you mustn't dwell on it. Whatever casual flirtation you shared is over. She loves her husband dearly."

  To have such an innocent creature lecture him on love was more than Hunter could bear. He reached out to grab her shoulders and replied in a tone she could not mistake for anything but rage. "You know nothing of what happened between Melissa and me. I'll stay here only one night, and I want you to tell Melissa I have to see her alone. She knows when and where to meet me. If she refuses, tell her I'll have a long talk with Ian in the morning."

  When Alanna was too frightened to speak and simply stared at him wide-eyed, Hunter shook her. "Do you understand?"

  Trembling badly, Alanna managed a nod.

  "Good. Now repeat it. What are you going to say?"

  Alanna had to swallow hard to force back her fear. "You want Melissa to meet you tonight. She's supposed to know when and where. If she doesn't, you'll talk with Ian in the morning."

  Satisfied, Hunter dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back. "Deliver my message, and there will be no further need of apologies between us."

  "No," Alanna swore as she backed away. "It's you who owes me one now." Panicked, she picked up her skirts and ran toward the house. Ian was expected home soon, and Melissa had gone upstairs to their bedroom to rest until he arrived. Alanna knocked lightly at their door, and waited for her cousin's welcoming call before she entered. Still shaking badly, she took the precaution of locking the door to insure their privacy before she approached the bed.

 
She studied her cousin's expression closely as she repeated Hunter's demand, but Melissa showed not a flicker of interest, let alone dread. "He's furious with you," Alanna warned, "and if there's something you'd rather he didn't tell Ian, I think you ought to get up and speak with him now."

  Melissa covered a wide yawn. "I'll do no such thing, and I don't want you talking to him again either. Because he was my brothers' friend, I tried to be nice to him when he was here in April. Obviously he misinterpreted my friendliness for something more. It's unfortunate, but I won't compound the problem by talking with him now, or sneaking out at midnight either."

  "Is that when you met him before?"

  Aghast at the secret she'd just revealed, Melissa sat forward and attempted to save herself. "No, of course not. That was what he asked though, so I'm sure that's what he means now."

  Recalling the vehemence of Hunter's tone, Alanna was amazed by her cousin's calm. "What is it he's threatening to tell Ian?"

  "I've no idea," Melissa insisted. "The man's a savage. He might make up any wild tale, but don't worry, I'll speak to Ian, so there won't be a problem no matter what Hunter says."

  Hunter had reacted as though he had a right to feel betrayed, but he had terrified Alanna, and she found it impossible to plead his case. "I hope he does leave tomorrow."

  "So do I. I wonder why he bothered to come."

  Alanna made an easy guess. "Apparently he thought the trip was worth making. I wish you could have seen his face when your mother said you'd married Ian. He may have meant nothing to you, but it was plain you meant a great deal to him."

  "He's an Indian."

  "He's also a man who cares about you."

  Melissa raised her hand to massage her forehead. "Please, Alanna, no more. I'm not feeling well, and I don't think I'll come downstairs for supper. Will you please ask my mother to send up a tray?"

  As Alanna unlocked and opened the door, she heard Ian coming up the stairs. "Shall I make that two trays?" she asked her cousin.