Defiant Impostor

by Miriam Minger

  “I … I was wondering how your morning went in Yorktown,” she replied, knowing he wouldn’t be receptive to what really lay in her heart.

  “Well enough.”

  “You’ve been traveling so much, Adam. Does it have anything to do with your plans for Dominick?”

  Susanna was stunned by the glimmer of suspicion in his eyes. She had only asked him an innocent question!

  “That’s none of your concern,” he answered gruffly. “You might as well know now that I’ll be leaving for Norfolk tomorrow morning, and I probably won’t be back until Friday night. If it gets late, don’t bother holding supper or waiting up for me. You’ll need a good night’s rest before the Byrds’ summer ball on Saturday. We’ll be leaving early in the morning to allow us plenty of time to reach Westover before the festivities begin.”

  “So you’ll be gone tomorrow night?” she asked, not cheered by the prospect of spending a long evening without him. She could already imagine how distressingly empty their bed would feel.

  “Yes.” Adam was quiet for a brief moment, then asked suspiciously, “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ll miss you.” It was out before she could stop it, but she didn’t regret saying the words, despite the shocked expression on Adam’s face. His surprise quickly vanished, yet she felt a subdued sense of satisfaction that she could cut through his guard, however fleetingly.

  As a tense silence settled between them, Adam shifted away from her and grabbed his riding coat from the grass beside him, as if preparing to leave. An intricately carved object slid halfway out of one deep pocket and Susanna noted with heart-stopping alarm that it was the ivory butt of a pistol.

  “You’re not going to meet Dominick in a duel, are you, Adam?” she blurted, glancing at him in horror.

  “The bastard doesn’t deserve such a swift revenge,” he replied, shoving the pistol back into his coat. “This is for my own protection.”

  “Protection?” she queried, her heart pounding faster as stark fear for him gripped her. “From what?”

  “I don’t plan on meeting the miserable fate that James Cary suffered at Dominick’s hands. If he comes looking for me with such an intent, he’ll receive a bullet right through his rotting heart.”

  Susanna was aghast, but then, why should she be surprised? Dominick had murdered Camille’s father, or so Adam claimed. If he had killed once, he could kill again. “Oh, Adam, this is terrible. Do you think he will … come here looking for you?”

  He glanced at her sharply, and his tone was grim as he replied, “It’s possible. I’m preventing him from possessing the one thing he needs to save himself from financial ruin, just as James did months ago. Your wealth would have funded his gambling for years to come. I would say, in fact, that it’s likely he’ll try to kill me if he can find a way to make it look like another accident.”

  “How—how did he kill Mr. Cary?”

  “Shot him point-blank while he was out hunting alone, then slumped his body over a fieldstone wall and situated his fired musket so that it looked as if James had accidentally shot himself in the gut while trying to climb over.”

  “How horrible.”

  “It wasn’t a pretty sight.” Adam swallowed hard, his voice growing heavy with contempt. “Dominick’s no fool. Although I told the constable about his argument with James the day before the death, and although Josiah vouched for me, Dominick escaped any suspicion. A prostitute in West Point swore that he had spent the entire afternoon with her. He knew better than to put Cleo up to such a ruse, even if he could have threatened her into lying for him. No one takes the word of a black slave over the word of a white man, especially one who sits on the governor’s council.”

  “But, Adam, are you absolutely sure that Dominick murdered Mr. Cary?” she asked, knowing her question would upset him but needing to ask it just the same. She had wondered about it since he had first revealed his suspicion, but hadn’t dared to ask him until now. “If no one saw it happen … and there was no proof—”

  “You’re right, I have no proof, but you forget how well I know the man,” he said, his eyes ablaze. “I know that Dominick killed James as surely as I carry this pistol. You can damned well believe what you want.” He snorted in disgust. “Woman, you simply amaze me. After everything I told you last week—”

  “I never said I didn’t believe you, Adam. I do.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her, and rose in one swift movement to his feet. Sweeping up his coat, he dug in the opposite pocket and withdrew a small wrapped package. He tossed it into the grass at her feet.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Something you’ll need for the Byrds’ party. You can’t go with that piece of metal wrapped around your finger.

  Susanna did her best to ignore his bitterly sarcastic tone as she unwrapped the package, revealing a red velvet box, and then opened the lid. She gasped softly. She had never seen such an exquisite ring, the filigreed gold and square-cut emerald at its center reflecting brilliantly in the sun.

  “Oh, Adam, it’s beautiful.” With trembling fingers, she removed the twisted bed-curtain ring and replaced it with her new wedding band. It fits perfectly. Look!”

  But he had moved to the sloping edge of the pond, his back to her. Hurt filled her that he would so pointedly refuse to share in her happiness, and sudden tears stung her eyes. She forced them back, reminding herself miserably that only time could change this impasse between them. Time and her continued patience.

  After setting the curtain ring carefully in the box, as she wanted to keep the iron strip for sentimental reasons, she shut the lid and began to gather together the refuse from their picnic. She sensed he was in no mood either to eat or swim …

  “I don’t want you to help Prue in the kitchen ever again.”

  “What?” she asked, raising her head from her task to find him glaring at her.

  “You are now a planter’s wife, and planters’ wives manage their households from a proper distance, which means they do not participate in their servants’ work. Do you understand?”

  Her temper flaring, Susanna nonetheless tried to keep it under control. “What do you propose I do with my time, then? I don’t know how to do needlepoint, and I’m all thumbs with a needle and thread anyway. I’m not at all musical—”

  “You can learn, can’t you? You’ve grasped well enough how to act the part of a lady, wielding a fan and performing the niceties of proper society. The music room is full of fine instruments gathering dust. I’ll hire you a music teacher, and I’ll order enough stitchery materials from Yorktown to keep you busy for months.”

  “But I don’t like to sew, Adam. I hate it, in fact. To me, it’s a waste of time when I could be making myself useful around the house—”

  “I don’t care what you like or don’t like,” he broke in with harsh vehemence, approaching to stand only a few feet from her. “Planters’ wives work embroidery, play the harpsichord, entertain guests, discreetly direct the house servants’ activities, and care for their husbands’ and children’s needs. Do I make myself clear?”

  Susanna stared at him sullenly. Her anger at his insensitivity quickly overcame her excited thoughts of the family they might have together.

  “Good God, woman, if you continue baking bread and toiling in the kitchen, Ertha will suspect all the more that you are not her precious Camille!”

  “Oh, Adam!” Susanna blurted without thinking, completely exasperated with him. “That doesn’t matter anymore! She already knows.”

  It was too late to clap a hand over her mouth. As Adam’s expression of utter incredulity quickly became one of darkening rage, she inwardly cursed her heedless tongue. She had planned to tell Adam what she had done sometime during the next few days, but she had hoped to introduce the topic gently, to prepare him first. So much for that.

  “What do you mean, she already knows?”

  “I—I told her the truth … yesterday morning after you left for Williamsburg. She’d been
staring at me so strangely all week, watching my every move, and I just couldn’t bear it anymore—”

  “You couldn’t bear it anymore?” he shouted, grabbing her shoulders and hauling her to her feet. “Heaven help you, woman, do you know what you’ve done?”

  “Of course I do!” Susanna retorted as his fingers bit cruelly into her flesh. Her words tumbled from her mouth in a nervous flood. “I explained everything to her and, though she was understandably shaken to hear about Camille’s death she was relieved to know the truth. Poor Ertha had thought she might be going crazy since she saw that portrait. Anyway, she swore not to say a word to anyone. She knows that if Briarwood were ever sold, those servants who aren’t free would find themselves on the auction block. They’re like her family, Adam, you know that. She promised not to do anything to jeopardize them, and I believe her. Besides, Briarwood is the only home she’s ever known. She would have no place to go—”

  “I’ll tell you where you’re going to go,” he muttered ominously, sweeping her suddenly into his arms and carrying her to her horse, where he hoisted her unceremoniously into the saddle. “You’re going to leave right now and ride straight for home before I do something I might regret!” Flinging the reins into her hands, he ordered harshly, “Get out of here!”

  When she only stared at him stupidly, too stunned to speak, Adam slapped her mare’s rump. “Go, damn you! Now!”

  Susanna held on to the reins for dear life as her startled mount shot out from beneath the willow tree into the full glare of the afternoon sun.

  She didn’t look back. She kept her tear-blinded eyes fixed straight ahead as she raced for home, her heart thundering as furiously as her mare’s flying hooves.

  Chapter 21

  “What are you doing, Corliss?” Susanna asked her frowning waiting-maid, who had just entered the bedroom carrying a large leather saddlebag and proceeded to Adam’s wardrobe.

  “Packing some clothes for your husband, Mistress Camille. He said for me to tell you that he’s leaving for Norfolk today instead of tomorrow morning.” The maid clucked her tongue in disapproval. “You two must have had some lovers’ quarrel. He’s in a foul mood, to be sure. He had me fetch Ertha to meet him in the library before he would let me come upstairs, and he told me real angry-like to be quick about filling this bag.”

  Not surprised by this news, Susanna rolled onto her back on the bed and stared blindly at the canopy overhead.

  Should she go to him and apologize? she wondered. Now that she had had an hour or so to think about it, she supposed she couldn’t blame him for becoming so upset with her at the pond.

  He probably thought his plan for revenge had been ruined because of what she had done. But she wouldn’t have said a thing to Ertha if she believed there was the slightest chance the housekeeper might have reacted to the truth any differently than she had. Surely he could see that! She didn’t want to end up in prison any more than he wanted to lose Briarwood and his chance to get even with Dominick.

  “Ertha sure looked nervous going in to talk to him, though I can’t imagine why,” Corliss added, folding several shirts and stuffing them into the saddlebag. “She’s been a real puzzle since a few days before you and Master Thornton got married. Sometimes snapping our heads off, other times saying nothing all day. Then all of a sudden yesterday she finally seemed her old self again.” The young woman sighed with exasperation. “If she starts grumbling at us again when she gets through talking with Master Thornton …”

  “I’m sure Ertha will be fine,” Susanna reassured her, sitting up. She imagined Adam was just confirming everything she had told him, especially the part about the housekeeper swearing not to tell a soul about what she now knew.

  “Did my husband say anything to you about coming upstairs to say good-bye?” she asked.

  “Not a word, and maybe you don’t want him to,” the maid replied, fastening the buckle on the bulging saddlebag. “He looks mighty angry. We don’t see Master Thornton like that too often, but when we do, we stay clear out of his way.” She hurried to the door. “I better get down there, Mistress Camille, before he starts hollering for me. I’ve never heard him raise his voice but right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

  “Wait a minute, Corliss,” Susanna requested, rising from the bed and rushing over to the writing desk. Deciding to heed her maid’s warning and unwilling to face Adam’s wrath again, she quickly jotted a note of apology, then, after sprinkling it with a few drops of her jasmine perfume, she handed it to the maid. “Please give this to my husband. No, better yet …”

  Thinking that in his sour mood Adam might not read her note, Susanna undid the buckle and shoved it into the saddlebag.

  “Good idea,” Corliss said with a small smile, as if guessing her thoughts. “Master Thornton will find it in there tonight when he stops along the way to Norfolk, and after a long hard ride to clear his head, he’ll be ready to read whatever you’ve got to say.” Her frown reappeared. “You did say something nice in that letter, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Susanna replied, smiling when her maid sighed with relief.

  “That’s good. I hope you two aren’t going to have fights like this very often, Mistress Camille. What with Ertha acting so crazy these past days, and now you and the master mad at each other … or from what I see, him being more mad than you, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around this place.”

  “Corliss!”

  They both jumped at the deep, ringing sound of Adam’s voice echoing from downstairs.

  “See what I mean?” the maid said as she fled out the door and down the corridor, calling, “I’m coming, Master Thornton!”

  Susanna shut the door and leaned upon it, taking heart in the thought that Adam hadn’t sounded angry so much as impatient. She waited almost breathlessly, wondering if he might yet come to say good-bye, but when several long moments passed and she still didn’t hear his familiar footsteps, she imagined he had already left the house.

  Disappointed, she walked out onto the balcony and leaned against the curved wooden railing. Looking out over the beautiful sunlit garden, she thought of the words she had hastily written to him.

  I’m truly sorry I upset you, Adam. If I thought Ertha wouldn’t understand, I never would have told her. It’s certainly not my intention to thwart your plans. I believe Dominick should pay dearly for what he’s done to you. Yours, Camille.

  Sighing softly, she hoped her apology would placate him, at least until she could tell him in person. When he returned from Norfolk, she planned to offer him a special apology he wouldn’t forget.

  ***

  “Thank you, Prue. Everything looks absolutely wonderful,” Susanna said sincerely, admiring the exquisite table set with a lacy cloth, gleaming silver service, and fine bone china. A dozen tall white candles graced the candelabra placed off to one side, surrounded by a fragrant wreath of blood-red roses and delicate baby’s breath freshly picked from the garden.

  “My pleasure, Mistress Camille. Anything to help you and Master Thornton make up with each other.”

  “Are you sure our supper will stay warm under those lids?” Susanna asked doubtfully, paying no heed to the cook’s reference to her and Adam’s quarrel two days ago. She had grown accustomed to the fact that the servants were just as anxious to see things resolved between them as she was. “I’m not exactly sure when Adam will be home, although it should be soon.” She glanced at the mantel clock. “It’s already eight-thirty. I can’t imagine that he’d want to be traveling the roads for long in the dark.”

  “He’ll get here, Mistress Camille, and don’t you worry none about the food. It’ll keep just fine. My herbed veal pie will taste just as good steaming hot or lukewarm, same as those buttered greens and new potatoes. And the flavors will shine through much better when that peach cobbler has a chance to cool a little. Now if there’s anything else you’ll be needing—”

  “No, Prue, this looks like everything. You go get yourself a good night
’s rest. You certainly deserve it after preparing this feast.”

  “No trouble at all, Mistress Camille. Good evening, then.”

  After the cook left the softly candlelit room, Susanna settled herself in a stuffed chair as comfortably as her taut nerves would allow, and picked up a book of poetry.

  She was not surprised when her eyes could not focus on the page. She was both excited and apprehensive, as she had been all day. She had missed Adam desperately, more than she could have ever thought possible, and she couldn’t wait until he was home.

  Would he still be angry with her? Could she hope he might be glad to see her?

  After another futile attempt at reading, Susanna set down the book. Leaning her head back against the plush brocade, she closed her eyes and listened impatiently as the minutes ticked by.

  ***

  His heart thumping hard, Adam closed the bedroom door silently behind him, and stepped carefully over to the chair where Susanna was sleeping, her head resting upon the arm cushion and her legs tucked beneath her.

  God, how he had missed her! He could not deny it. These past two days without her had been sheer hell.

  Despite how angry he had been at her when he left Briarwood late Wednesday afternoon, though his temper had admittedly been soothed by his satisfactory exchange with Ertha, every mile that had taken him further away from her had been an agony, each night he had spent alone the worst torture. The harder he tried to suppress his love for her, the stronger and more insistent it became. This one emotion was a thousand times more powerful than the misgivings, distrust, and cold rationale he had pitted against it. Why, then, wasn’t he willing to accept his feelings now that he was finally home with her?

  Thrusting away his perplexing dilemma, Adam swept his gaze over her hungrily.

  She looked so achingly beautiful in what remained of the sputtering candlelight, her silky hair spilling over the cushion like a cascade of burnished gold, her lovely features half-cast in shadow, her body lushly curved beneath her jade-green dressing gown. He longed to touch her. But he resisted the impulse, reluctantly deciding to wait until he was ready for bed.