My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers)

by Christine Dorsey

  The infant didn’t take to the gruel at first, puckering her little face and crying louder. But Caroline cuddled her, rocking back and forth in the chair by the window and patiently putting her gruel dipped finger to the child’s rosebud mouth.

  Caroline looked toward Wolf and smiled the first time Colleen stopped crying to suck. His answering grin made her feel wonderful.

  They spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon taking turns between feeding Colleen and sponge-bathing her mother. They were pleased when Colleen slept; and when Mary woke enough to utter a few words, Logan and her child were what she asked about. Caroline assured her both were safe, hoping she spoke the truth.

  Wolf heard the small group approaching even before they hailed the house. He hurried from the room and opened the front door. Caroline, expecting only to see Sadayi and the Indian who frightened her earlier, was surprised when a half dozen Cherokee entered the room.

  Sadayi came to her and reached down for Colleen, grinning her nearly toothless grin as she did. “Pretty baby, but too small,” she said then handed her to another woman that Caroline didn’t recognize. This woman motioned for Caroline to rise from the chair. When she did, the young Cherokee settled herself in Caroline’s place, untied her blouse and offered Colleen her breast. The hungry baby latched on immediately. All three women laughed at the loud sucking noise made by the tiny infant.

  “Cahtahlata lost her baby,” Sadayi explained, “but she still has milk.”

  “I’m sorry—about your child, I mean.”

  The young woman nodded, apparently needing no interpreter to understand Caroline’s words of sympathy.

  When Caroline turned her attention to Mary, she found her friend’s bed surrounded by three people she didn’t know. Wolf was no longer in the room. “The Sachem has come to help Mary,” Sadayi said. “She will be fine.”

  “But what’s wrong with her?” Caroline glanced back over her shoulder as Sadayi led her from the room.

  “Milk fever. Many get it. But she will be fine. You are the one who must rest.” Sadayi nudged her along toward the stairs.

  Caroline caught a glimpse of Raff and another Cherokee in the parlor, but Sadayi was not in a mood to tarry. At the top of the stairs she made pushing movements with her broad hands until Caroline entered her room.

  “How long has it been since you slept?” Sadayi asked as she pulled down the quilt.

  “I’m not tired, really. ’Tis Mary that concerns me.”

  “She’s being taken care of. And it will do neither you nor your baby any good to get no rest.”

  Caroline turned, ignoring Sadayi’s clucked protest as she tried to unhook Caroline’s bodice. “How can you know for sure that I am with child?” She had mentioned the possibility of a baby once, the day after Robert beat her. But since then, she and Sadayi had not discussed it.

  The Indian woman simply made a face as if to say she wasn’t stupid.

  “I want to know,” Caroline persisted. She’d studied herself in the mirror before the Indian attack and was convinced no one could tell. That had been no more than a sennight ago. True, she had not paid much heed to her appearance since then, but surely nothing had changed that much. Now she glanced down quickly as the lacings of her stays loosened.

  “I can see you are taluli, pregnant, here.” Sadayi touched her cheek. “And,” she added tilting her head to the side and examining Caroline with her sloe eyes. “You are not as skinny as you were.” She removed the stays, leaving her dressed in her shift and petticoats. “But do not concern yourself, I do not believe Wa`ya has noticed.”

  “Why should I care about that?” Caroline forced her voice to remain calm.

  “The baby will be his tsunkinisi, his younger brother. Wa`ya will take care of you.”

  “Oh... yes. ’Tis true, I suppose.” Caroline allowed the older woman to settle her on the bed. Her baby would be considered Wolf’s half-brother. Unless you tell him the truth, a small voice reminded her.

  “Sadayi.”

  The Indian woman stopped her progress toward the door and glanced over her ample shoulder.

  Caroline bit her lip. “Please don’t tell Raff... about the baby, I mean.”

  The Cherokee woman only shrugged. “It is not my place to tell.”

  As tired as she was, it still took a long time for Caroline to fall asleep. When she did, her dreams were as troubled as her mind. A child stared up at her with eyes as dark as night, questioning. She tried to tell him the truth, but he turned away from her and disappeared in the haze that swirled up around his chubby legs. In her nightmare Caroline chased after him, calling his name over and over, begging him to come back to her.

  Her child.

  But he wouldn’t stop, and finally she grew so weary she had to stop. When she dropped to her knees, she felt warmth, and Wolf rolled over to greet her. His hands were hard as they grabbed her elbows pulling her down to his mouth. The erotic pleasure he gave her made Caroline moan in her sleep.

  She gave herself to him completely, holding nothing back. Together they soared so that it was almost as if they were watching yet participating in the pleasure they gave each other.

  And then it was over and he was studying her, his eyes dark, questioning. “Why have you done this to me?” he asked. “To my son?” She tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen and then he too was leaving her, taking away the warmth of his body and his soul.

  “No. No, please. I had to do it. Don’t you understand?”

  “Caroline. Caroline wake up.”

  She jerked awake so abruptly that she couldn’t tell if the man before her was a dream or real. Reaching out, she touched the hard line of his jaw, the roughness of his whiskers, and a sob escaped her.

  His eyes narrowed as he brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “What troubles you, Caroline?”

  She wanted to tell him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. In her dream he was hurt because she kept his son from him. But real life was different. What would he do if he knew she was pregnant with his child? The man she knew seemed unlikely to embrace the news with joy. The best she could hope for was a reluctant proposal of marriage for the child’s sake.

  Then, like Mary’s husband, he would be off, leaving her alone. She didn’t need a marriage with him for that. She was alone now.

  And what if he rejected her completely? Her child would be branded a bastard. She could end up with nothing. And with Edward and her child to consider, that was not a chance she could take.

  What troubles you, he had asked. She almost smiled thinking how many different ways she could answer that, and not even brush the real truth. “It has been a difficult year,” she finally said.

  “Since you left England?”

  “It began before that.” He settled into the bedside chair, dwarfing the furniture with his size, and Caroline wondered why he was here. Since he first brought her to Seven Pines, he rarely seemed eager to merely converse. The loss of his friendship was only one of the things she missed when he left her. Now his concern sent chills down her spine. “What is it?” Caroline dragged his attention away from the window he stared through. “Is Mary worse?”

  “No.” His eyes met hers, unblinking, and Caroline let out her breath. “Sadayi gave her some herbs for her fever. Colleen is sleeping, her belly full.”

  Caroline wriggled higher against the headboard, pulling the quilt up as she did. “But something is wrong.”

  “Not wrong.” He leaned forward resting his forearms on his leather-covered legs. He was perhaps three feet from the bed, and the urge to bound across the space and slide into the bed beside her was overwhelming. Wolf clenched his hands together. “The Headmen are leaving for Charles Town.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Caroline loosened her grip on the blanket. “’Tis what you wished would happen, isn’t it?” His expression did not reflect the news he’d given her. “I’m sure the problems between the Cherokee and English can be resolved.”

  “To
whose satisfaction?” Wolf stood, pushing the chair against the wall as he did. “You are right, I should not doubt these negotiations before they begin.” He paced to the far corner of the room. Unfortunately, it was not a large room. He could still smell the sweet flowery scent that was hers alone. He shouldn’t have come in here. Actually he made that decision as he stood outside her door earlier. It was only her cries that made him open the door.

  “Then why do you?”

  He arched a brow. She seemed to know him well. “Perhaps a basic distrust of the English,” he said.

  “Some would consider you English,” she quipped, lifting her chin a notch.

  “They might, but I think you know better.”

  “What I know is that you are torn between the two cultures, and you don’t have an inkling of where you belong.” The words were out of her mouth before she thought them through... before she considered how he might take them. But Caroline felt sure she was right—even though being right was unlikely to keep his anger in check. She steeled herself for his raging denial.

  But it never came. Instead he threw back his head and laughed. It was such a rare sound coming from him that Caroline couldn’t help staring in amazement. At the moment he looked very wild indeed. His dark hair was loose, and his open-throated hunting shirt showed a broad expanse of bronzed chest—more savage than cultured Englishman.

  Yet she’d seen him in silk waistcoat and silver-buckled shoes. A gentleman, she thought then. Now she didn’t know.

  When he finished laughing, Wolf strode back to the window. He could sense her behind him, still wrapped in the bedclothes. She had spoken boldly and probably regretted it. He heard the rope springs moan, and he twisted around to look at her. Her face was alive with color, but she met his stare without flinching.

  She obviously considered her assessment of him correct, and Wolf couldn’t argue with her. But he had no intention of agreeing with her, either. Or even discussing the matter further. “I’m going with them,” he said as his eyes sought again the forested vista through the panes.

  “With them?” Caroline was momentarily baffled at this sudden switch in the conversation. “Ah, the Headmen,” she said, and watched as he nodded. He didn’t turn around.

  “I feel I can be of help.”

  “Of course you can. ’Tis obvious.” Oh, she didn’t want him to leave.

  “I don’t want to leave you here.”

  His voice was low, and Caroline leaned forward to make certain she heard him correctly. “It should be safe enough as long as both sides talk of peace,” she said.

  “I’d still feel better if you went to Fort Prince George for a while.”

  He did look at her now, and Caroline sucked in her breath at the intensity of his eyes. “I won’t leave Mary,” she insisted.

  “I intended to see her and the baby safely to the fort also.”

  “Even if she didn’t have the fever it would be a sennight till she was strong enough to travel. You will be long gone by then.”

  “Sadayi will stay with her and Gulegi will take her to the fort in my stead when she is strong enough.”

  “I won’t leave.”

  “Damnit, Caroline.” Wolf advanced toward the bed. “You are being stubborn.”

  “It is you who persist. Seven Pines is my home, Mary is my friend, and I shall not go.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, no longer content to lie passively while he loomed over her. “Besides,” she continued as her bare feet hit the floor. “If it is safe enough for her to stay, then I see no reason—”

  “Have you forgotten Tal-tsuska?”

  The shawl she was about to swing over her shoulders dropped from her fingers. “No,” she whispered, but as he bent to retrieve the woven garment, she knew he didn’t believe her. But what did it matter what he thought? “With the Headmen working for peace, he wouldn’t dare do anything,” she insisted. “You said yourself he could have killed you and didn’t.”

  Wolf stood slowly, his eyes traveling up past her fragile ankles and legs to the shift that skimmed over her curves. She said nothing, but he could tell his survey was not without its effect. He meant to intimidate, to remind her that he was in control. But by the time his gaze leveled on her distended nipples, Wolf admitted to himself he failed.

  She was no more intimidated than he. It was desire that ruled them both. Wolf thrust the shawl into her hands and turned quickly lest she notice the hard bulge that tented his loincloth.

  “Might I remind you that you stay at Seven Pines due to my hospitality.” It didn’t please him to discuss this, but nothing else had worked. He shot her a look over his shoulder and seeing her bewildered expression raised his brow. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten the codicil to your marriage agreement. The one stating that you inherit Seven Pines and Robert’s wealth only if you bring forth issue.”

  “How did you know about that?” Caroline stepped toward him. As far as she knew, that had been arranged between her lawyer and Robert. She hadn’t even been told until that fateful night that Robert came to her.

  “You thought to keep it a secret, Lady Caroline?”

  “No, of course not.” Caroline swiped her hair behind a shoulder. “I just didn’t realize you were privy to your father’s personal affairs.”

  “Only when he wished to flaunt them before me.”

  “I don’t under—”

  “Personal matters, Lady Caroline. My father took great pleasure in telling me about bedding you.” His eyes narrowed. “In great detail.”

  “But that’s a...” Caroline bit her tongue to keep from telling him his father had lied to him. “A what, Your Ladyship?”

  “Nothing. And please stop calling me that.”

  “What should I call you then?” He stepped closer.

  Caroline’s jaw tightened, but her eyes never wavered. “What about lover?” She was angry. At Robert. At his son. “You were quick enough to take me as that, if I recall.”

  “And as I recall, you didn’t fight the idea over much. Then or later.”

  “To my shame, you remember it quite well.”

  Wolf’s lashes closed, and he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, she had turned away from him He reached for her shoulder, not surprised when she shrugged away his hand. “I apologize for my remarks. It was not very—”

  “Gentlemanly of you.” Her expression was full of contempt when she shot a look back at him. “Is that what you intended to say? But then you aren’t a gentleman, are you? Not really. I think, Wolf MacQuaid, you are every bit the savage you purport to be.”

  Wolf opened his mouth to counter her statement, but before he could, she said something else that left him speechless.

  “And I think you have a lot of nerve chastising your father for his indiscretions in telling you of our personal life. Wasn’t it your intention from the beginning to show to your father that you had me first. Never mind.” Caroline lifted her hand. “You needn’t say a thing. I see the answer in your eyes.”

  “Caroline.” Wolf stepped forward, but though she didn’t retreat, the expression on her face told him touching her would do no good. Nor could he explain. Or even ask her forgiveness. What he’d done was unforgivable. And they both knew it.

  It seemed so perfect at the beginning, a way to settle things with his father, to avenge his mother. But he hadn’t counted on Caroline being the person she was, a person he now cared about more deeply than he wished to.

  But if she ever felt anything for him, it was gone, snuffed as surely as the light that usually shone in her blue eyes.

  “Please go.” Caroline managed to keep her voice steady and her bearing straight, all the while praying that he would do as she asked. She saw him lift his hand toward her and just as quickly let it drop to his side. If he touched her, would she be able to keep from throwing herself into his arms and demanding to know why he’d done this to her? But she wished to make a fool of herself no more. And when he finally turned and left the room, she sighed with re
lief.

  Crossing to the rocking chair by the window, she sat. The shock of what just happened was beginning to wear off, and the blessed numbness was replaced by anger and hurt. She hadn’t meant to say what she did. Until that moment, the idea that he would do such a thing had only been a niggling doubt that teased at the back of her mind. By sheer will, she’d forced herself never to think on it. It was too awful to comprehend. But now she knew the truth. And it nearly broke her heart.

  It took Wolf three days to leave, and Caroline couldn’t imagine how she managed to endure with him there. But Mary was improving, as was her child, and Caroline tried to keep her mind on that. But every time she glanced across the room to see him watching her with his probing dark eyes, she wanted to cry.

  She wished for nothing more than that he would go. And when he did, she was as unhappy as before. But there was much to do. Several Cherokee men stayed at Seven Pines, and according to the directions Wolf gave them, they rebuilt the burned-out barn.

  The weather grew colder. Winter was upon them. Any lingering doubts Caroline had about being with child were dispelled. Even though her waistline had yet to expand, she could almost feel the new life within her.

  One evening as they sat in the parlor, huddled around the hearth, Caroline told Mary. The grey-eyed woman dropped her sewing onto the floor and rushed to Caroline’s side. Leaning over, she hugged her to her bosom, crying with joy.

  “I’m so happy,” she said as she straightened and glanced toward the cradle where Colleen slept peacefully. “Our children will grow up together and become great friends, just like we are.”

  Caroline joined in her happiness, answering the myriad questions. “Had she thought of any names yet? Was she hoping for a boy or a little girl like her Colleen? When did she expect the child would be born?” Then a cloud seemed to pass over her kind, open face. “It is just too bad Robert didn’t live to know he was to be a father again.”

  Mary never questioned that the baby was Robert’s. And for that Caroline was grateful.