Midnight Rose

by Patricia Hagan

  She was relieved that Zachary had more or less ignored her since she’d returned from Atlanta. Maybe his specialty was molesting children, she thought with a violent shudder of contempt and bitterness.

  Never would she forget the terror and revulsion of that night when he’d sneaked into her room to crawl into her bed as she slept. She’d awakened in terror to feel his fingers probing between her legs, and when she’d tried to scream, he’d grabbed her around her throat and choked her till she started to lose consciousness, all the while being blasted by his whiskey breath as he whispered he’d kill her if she didn’t stop struggling, or dared to ever tell a soul. She’d had to lie there, fearing for her life, as he touched her, squeezed her, rubbed his ugly, swollen thing between her thighs till he’d made a lot of grunting noises. Afterwards, she’d felt nasty, defiled.

  She hadn’t dared tell anyone, not even Letty, who sensed something was wrong. The next night, and all the nights after till she convinced her mother to let her go stay with her aunt, she had pushed furniture in front of the door, then hidden under the bed till morning.

  Now that she was back, Erin no longer dragged furniture in front of the door, but she locked it, and she kept a kitchen knife hidden beneath her mattress. If he dared return to her bed, she was prepared to defend herself, to the death if need be.

  Suddenly she was wrenched from the loathsome memories by the sound of a snapping twig in the woods just behind her.

  A roll of panic assaulted at the thought that Zachary might have seen her ride out alone and followed her. She’d noticed his horse being rubbed down by another groom at the stable, so she knew he was back from wherever he’d gone. He might have taken another horse, planning to attack her far from the house, where no one would hear her screams. But by God, he’d have a fight on his hands!

  Glancing around quickly, she spied a large stone and grabbed it for a weapon.

  Then she felt a wave of sweet relief as the rider came out of the woods, and she saw it wasn’t Zachary—it was Ryan Youngblood, and he was riding a magnificent white stallion.

  Looking at the rock she was holding, he realized he’d startled her and apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was about.” Glibly, he lied, “I was just out riding and must have wandered onto your place without realizing it.” Actually, he’d been there every day, even in the rain, waiting for her. He’d about given up hope, figuring Keith had been mistaken, seen someone else out riding along the stream.

  Bemused, she told him, “It’s all right. You just took me by surprise.” She noted he was wearing a white shirt, open to his waist, and her gaze helplessly moved from the thick mat of dark blond hairs on his broad chest, downward to rock-hard thighs in form-fitting trousers. He exuded strength, and, yes, there was something almost feral about the way he was looking at her with those smoldering blue eyes, making her tremble, not with fright, but a kind of delicious anticipation.

  “Well, it was fate.” He dismounted and slowly approached her. He was toying with the reins, wrapping them absently about his fingers as he drank in the sight of her. “I must say you’ve been on my mind almost constantly since the other night, and…” With a teasing smile, he huskily reminded her, “As I said, I’ve been dancing with you in my heart ever since.”

  Erin was warmed by his words but maintained her cool demeanor. “Well, we certainly gave people something to talk about.”

  “You like to shock people, don’t you?” he surprised her by bluntly asking.

  “I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say that,” she replied with equal candor, “but I pride myself on hiving a mind of my own.”

  “We’re a lot alike. I sensed that right away. Maybe that’s why I’m so taken by you—your spirit, plus other attributes…” His gaze raked over her appreciatively before he continued. “This is a nice spot. Do you always come here?”

  “Always,” she admitted, her voice even despite the tremors within. “It’s private, till today.”

  He walked past her, as though looking for something, then pointed to the bank. “Lots of horses. Wagon wheels. Somebody comes around,” he noted curiously.

  “’Coon hunters, probably,” she speculated, noticing the tracks. “They must come at night. I’ve never seen anyone during the day.”

  He was quietly thoughtful for a moment, then told her how once, as a boy, he and a friend had built a raft and passed this very place as they ran away from home, heading downriver. “We intended to go all the way to Norfolk, where we hoped to stowaway on a ship and sail to England.”

  “How far did you get?” she asked, amused at such antics.

  He laughed. “My father was waiting for us at Cooley’s Bridge, about a mile on downriver. Waiting with his belt, I might add.” He rubbed his backside for emphasis. “I walked for the next two weeks, couldn’t even sit on a horse. It was a long time before I thought about sailing to Europe again, believe me.”

  “But you eventually made it, or you wouldn’t have learned the valse. Or did you make that up to tease me?”

  “Why would I do a thing like that?” He frowned at such absurdity. “Of course I learned it over there. You caught on very quickly, by the way. We’ll have to try it again sometime. I enjoy shocking people too,” he teased.

  She saw the mischievous gleam in his eye, sensed he had a rebellious streak, and she liked that—a lot. “I envy you,” she said then, “being a man and able to travel to faraway places, do anything you want to do. I’d love to be so free.”

  “You should be able to afford to go anywhere you want to. I hear your stepfather is quite well off.”

  “I don’t want to spend his money,” she said quickly, sharply, then hastened to explain, “My mother wouldn’t hear of me traveling alone. That’s what I mean about envying you. Men can do anything they want to.”

  “Well, maybe one day you’ll marry a man who likes to travel as much as you do.”

  She laughed, a soft, wistful sound. “If I wait till then, I’ll be too old to travel.”

  “A beautiful young woman like you? Come now, Erin. I imagine you’ve got your pick of beaux.”

  “If that were true,” she challenged with a sudden lift of her chin, “why would my mother have insisted I show up at the ball without an invitation? If men were flocking to my doorstep, it wouldn’t have been necessary for me to humiliate myself, would it?”

  “I only meant—”

  “You were only being polite,” she corrected sharply, “because I’m sure you know all about my stepfather, how my mother and I aren’t received by Richmond society due to his less than favorable reputation.”

  “I guess I have,” he admitted quietly, “and I think it’s unfair.”

  Erin couldn’t resist pointing out, “I don’t recall my mother ever being invited to call at your home, Mr. Youngblood.”

  He stiffened, momentarily unnerved by her candor, then recovered to admit, “Frankly, I didn’t know you or your mother existed till the night of the ball. I’d heard of your stepfather. Few people haven’t, but where have you been?”

  “Atlanta,” she said with a shrug. “Living with my aunt. Otherwise, my mother would probably have been dragging me around trying to find a suitable husband for me long before now.”

  His lips were twitching, amused by her self-deprecating humor. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself, Erin. I can’t imagine any man letting animosity for your stepfather stand in the way of pursuing a lovely woman like you. I know I wouldn’t—if I happened to be looking for a wife.”

  Erin was quick to inform him, “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t happen to think marriage is all life holds for a woman, whether she’s pretty or not. I like to think there are options.”

  “Such as?” He raised an eyebrow, delighted at her spunk.

  “I’m not sure, but there has to be something.” Then, wanting to turn the conversation from herself, said, “I’d like to hear about Paris, about France. Tell me what it’s really like.”
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br />   Ryan was only too happy to oblige, for, despite the memories that were unpleasant, he had been entranced by the country and its people. He told her about Paris in October, when the days grew shorter. Dusk fell by four o’clock, and how cozy it was to have the valet de chambre light the logs in the fireplace, and sit there having tea in the cheerful glow while watching the violet twilight creep over the city.

  He told her about the magic of Versailles in autumn when gold and russet leaves drift among the allées. He painted for her with words a tapestry of beauty to be found in the chateaux of the Loire, the parterres of brilliant chrysanthemums in Chenonceaux, and the splendor of the Tuilleries gardens after a sculpturing snow. And he made her thirst as he described the taste of wine with roasted pheasant or partridge in Burgundy.

  Absently, as he talked so spiritedly and she listened, enchanted, they had walked along the soft, grassy banks, finally resting beneath the whispering fronds of the weeping willow. It was only when fireflies began to dance in the gathering shadows that they realized the afternoon had passed.

  Erin scrambled to her feet, brushing bits of grass from her skirt. “I have to get back. It’s suppertime, and my mother will be worried, because I’m always home before now.”

  She started to turn away, but suddenly Ryan yielded to the longing that had been building all afternoon. Almost roughly he caught her about her waist and spun her about. Momentarily surprised, she had only to look into his smoldering eyes to know what was about to happen. As his lips began to descend to hers, she began to tremble, first in fear, then anticipation, as she yielded with a sigh.

  As his mouth covered hers, Ryan could feel her quivering response. Shyly, slowly, her fingers lifted to his shoulders, and then she was clutching, clinging, her body unconsciously arching against his. She was swept away from reality by a dizzy ecstasy never before experienced. Time seemed frozen as he held her captive in his embrace.

  Ryan felt himself being wrenched apart, ignited with desire fiercely above and beyond anything he’d ever known before. He was on fire with want and need, an almost frantic wave sweeping him from head to toe as he pressed her yet closer to him, knowing she could feel his hardness.

  Erin was too naive to know what to do. She wanted to cry and laugh all at once in the sheer wonder of it all. She was helpless, befuddled, could only continue to cling to him and savor the sweetness for as long as it lasted.

  He raised his lips to whisper hoarsely, “God, you’re driving me mad,” then assaulted again, his tongue tracing a hot line between her lips, urging, coaxing them to part. But when she felt his tongue at last plunge inside her mouth, at the exact instant he reached to cup her breasts and gently squeeze, Erin found herself suddenly caught in the whirling maelstrom of a nightmare returning. Gone was the joy, the sweetness, and in its place was a terrified child, writhing in protest and terror as her stepfather tried to hold her still, hands clawing at her beneath her nightgown.

  “No! Don’t!” she screamed, tearing herself from him. “No…” She stumbled away from him, swiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, but was instantly horrified at what she’d done. The hurt in his puzzled, bewildered gaze was unbearable, and she could only stammer, “I—I’m sorry. It—it was happening so fast.” Dear God, she couldn’t tell him that he’d unknowingly conjured terrifying memories.

  He stared at her in frowning disbelief. It was difficult to comprehend that one so sensuous and enticing could be so easily unnerved. Surely she’d known what she was doing. He’d felt her pressing herself against him almost eagerly. Was she playing some kind of game, making him crazy with wanting her? She seemed far too sophisticated for such capricious nonsense, especially when she’d impressed him with intelligent questions, her own knowledge of worldly affairs. Seldom did he encounter such intellectually captivating company in a female, particularly in one so beautiful. Seeing the undeniable panic in her lovely brandy-colored eyes, he supposed an apology was in order and murmured he didn’t mean to offend her.

  She untied her horse and swung up into the saddle to look at him beseechingly. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It was my fault. I shouldn’t…” Her voice trailed, and wildly, silently, she asked herself what it was she shouldn’t have done, because everything she did, she’d wanted to do, right up to the time he’d touched her breasts and slipped his tongue in her mouth, bringing back all the ugliness.

  She reined the horse around and dug her heels into his flanks to set him at full gallop. She could think of nothing else to do for the embarrassing moment except to escape it.

  “Tomorrow,” he yelled firmly after her. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  She was too filled with self-loathing to look back or respond, yet felt the familiar thrilling rush.

  She’d be there.

  Oh, yes, she had to be there, for there was no denying that Ryan Youngblood had touched her heart, and she had to find out where all of this was going to lead, where she truly wanted it to lead.

  Chapter Five

  Letty listened, entranced, as Erin told her about the chance meeting with Ryan. Then, when she got to the part about him kissing her, how she’d reacted, Letty was astonished and cried, “But why? Why did you do that? You’ve been kissed by boys before, haven’t you?”

  “Ryan is no boy, Letty. He’s a man, and it was different. He obviously knew what he was doing. I didn’t.”

  Letty’s brows drew together as she thought about the situation. “Maybe,” she said slowly, evenly, “it’s best you don’t act like you know what you’re doing.”

  “What do you mean by that? I feel like a fool.”

  “You don’t know Sudie, do you?” Letty didn’t wait for a response but rushed on. “You probably wouldn’t. She’s in the fields all the time. Anyway, Mastah Zachary bought her last year. She comes from someplace down in North Carolina, and she was sold off by the family that owned her, ’cause her mistress had to go away, and they didn’t need her no more. And you know why her mistress had to go away?” Her eyes grew wide.

  Erin shook her head. It all sounded terribly mysterious, and she wondered what it all had to do with her own dilemma.

  Letty proceeded to oblige with the information that, according to Sudie, her mistress, Miss Coralee, was being courted by a young gentleman, and the family was already making plans for a big wedding. When he suddenly didn’t come around anymore, gossip began to circulate that he’d got what he wanted from her and no longer had a reason to marry her. “Her daddy went crazy, from what Sudie said, half beat Miss Coralee to death, sayin’ she shoulda known a man ain’t gonna buy the cow if he gets the milk for free, and no decent man would marry her after everybody knew that. So he sent her away to live with some kin in another state, where nobody would know what she done, and she’d have a chance to find her a husband.”

  Erin sighed and reached for another oatmeal cookie. She and Letty were piled into her bed. It was nearly midnight, and they’d sneaked some things out of the kitchen and up to her room for a late-night snack. “Why are you telling me all this?” she asked. “What does it have to do with me acting like a ninny when Ryan Youngblood kissed me?”

  Letty also grabbed a cookie, stuffed it in her mouth, then talked around it. “Don’t you see? If he can’t get free milk, he’s gonna buy the cow!”

  Erin looked at her in the candle’s glow. She looked so ridiculous, trying to be serious while her mouth was full of oatmeal cookie. Then, thinking of being compared to a milk cow, Erin started to giggle. Letty joined in, and soon they were swept with gales of laughter.

  When at last they calmed down, Letty grew serious and said that she didn’t know anything about the courting ways of white folks, but it seemed to her that if Miss Coralee had lost her beau by giving him something he wasn’t supposed to have until after they were properly married, that Erin would be wise to remember that and not make the same mistake with Mr. Youngblood. “So,” she said with proud finality, “I think you’re smart to look dumb, so he won’t think
you ever did give away any free milk. In fact”—she leaned closer to advise conspiratorially—“I think you oughta make him want that milk real bad!”

  “Letty, you’re terrible!” Erin laughed self-consciously. “What you’re suggesting I do is to lead him on, make him want me something fierce, and then tell him he can’t have me unless he marries me.”

  With a shrug, Letty asked, “What’s wrong with that? That’s the way it’s supposed to be, ain’t it? When are you gonna see him again?”

  “Tomorrow. He said he’d be there tomorrow waiting for me.”

  “Just remember what I told you, and the next thing you know”—she waved her arms triumphantly—“you’ll be Mrs. Ryan Youngblood, and your momma and me and my momma and Ben will all be livin’ at Jasmine Hill!”

  Erin looked at her thoughtfully and dared to wonder whether she might be right. If he did propose, and they did get married, so many lives would be made happy by their union, and wasn’t that what really counted? Yet she knew there was one obstacle—her fear and revulsion of any man touching her. She’d have to try very, very hard, because she had a feeling he would easily lose patience if she rebuked him every time he tried to kiss her.

  He’d wind up not wanting the milk or the cow!

  Zachary made his way slowly up the back stairway. This part of the house was used only by the servants and then only during the day, but he hesitated between steps anyway, to listen for any sound. The master quarters were situated all the way at the other end of the second floor. Erin’s room, however, was right at the top of the steps. Very convenient. Just as he’d planned it to be when he had Arlene give her that room when she returned from Atlanta. And since he’d been waiting for this moment for five years, he figured he could be patient a little longer, take it slow and easy. He licked his dry lips in hungry anticipation. Lordy, she was worth the wait, because she’d really ripened into a lush and lovely piece of woman flesh. And he figured by now she was old enough to see how it was to her advantage to be nice to him. There’d be no more resistance, much less furniture shoved against the door, once he made it clear he’d give her anything she wanted.