Rebel Enchantress

by Leigh Greenwood

  “That’s for you to settle with your aunt,” Delilah said, dropping her gaze to the papers Nathan handed her. “You asked me here to discuss a different matter.”

  “Quite so,” Nathan said, smiling at her determination to stick to business. It was good that one of them could. His thoughts kept getting sidetracked by her lips. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed them before. He should have. They were the most inviting, kissable lips he had ever seen. They could almost make him forget the inviting mound of her bosom. Almost, but not quite. Nothing could do that when he was standing above her and his line of vision included more of her tempting flesh than he’d ever seen before.

  This is a list of the farmers, merchants, and townspeople who owe me the most money. I want your advice, most particularly about the farmers. I included the others in case you had any thoughts that might be of help.”

  “What’s Hector Clayhart’s name doing on this list?” Delilah asked, surprised. “His inheritance ought to make him one of the biggest of the River Gods.”

  Nathan didn’t blink at her unconscious use of the derogatory phrase. “His father let everything go during the war. Then he had to borrow money from my uncle to keep up his style of living. His debts will keep Hector poor for years.”

  Delilah shrugged fatalistically. “Hell hate that. “He’ll surprised he hasn’t abandoned the whole thing.” She turned back to the list. “I see George Morton’s on here, too,” she said with a slight sniff. When Nathan raised his eyebrows in a questioning look, she added, “If he could keep his wife from spending twice her allowance every month and his son from gambling away a fortune while he’s at Cambridge, he could pay you back within two or three years. He’s the most sought-after lawyer in Springfield.”

  “I thought you wanted to help the farmers.”

  “I do,” Delilah said with a quick, guilty smile. “I guess I was just being nosy. Anyway, it’s not going to be as easy for them. They don’t have much they can do without. And don’t say I already told you so.”

  “Take your time. I’ve got plenty of work to do.”

  Nathan seated himself at his desk, his profile easily in the range of Delilah’s peripheral vision. This would never work. As long as she could see him, she couldn’t keep her mind on the list. She fidgeted in her chair.

  “Is anything wrong?” he asked.

  “I need more light.” She got up and went over to the window. This is better.” She had her back to him. It was much better.

  But that didn’t help as much as she had hoped. Nathan’s presence was so pervasive she could only see things as they related to him. The view to the river was gorgeous because it was one she shared with him each day. The library on the first floor, his bedroom on the second, and her room on the third, all looked out over the same piece of lawn, the same stretch of river, the same distant hillside resplendent with fall colors.

  She forced her mind back to the list. Henry Wheaton’s name came first. His debt must be the equivalent of the whole farm. Poor Henry. He seemed to be perpetually dogged by bad luck. His only good luck had come when he’d married Emma.

  Ebenezer Gardner was just plain lazy. Delilah doubted she could suggest anything to help him.

  Isaac Yates, Andrew Russell, Gilbert Eells, all good men who’d fought in the War of Independence, all with so little to show for years of hard work. Where was the inheritance they had fought to hand down to their sons and daughters? They faced perpetual debt, the disgrace of prison, the hardship of selling up and going to the western lands to start all over again. It wasn’t right, not after they’d given years of their lives to win the war. Delilah had finally admitted Nathan couldn’t be held responsible for their plight; still, somebody ought to be.

  But what could she do? What could Nathan do? They were only two people. And she couldn’t help wondering about him.

  He intended to keep what was his, but he resisted the tyrannical suggestions of those who had much less at stake. He had gathered the reins of his household and properties into his own hands, but he hadn’t let this power blind him to the rights of those with less of the world’s goods.

  He wasn’t like anybody she had ever known.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Are you ready?” Nathan’s question brought Delilah out of her abstraction.

  “I don’t know,” she said, turning away from the window. “I don’t have any suggestions for half of these people.”

  “Then we can begin with the other half.”

  If he was going to smile at her like that, she would forget the few ideas she did have. She seated herself on the chair and concentrated on her list.

  “You’ll never get any money out of Henry Wheaton, but you might get some from his wife.”

  “How?”

  “You buy a lot of flax, and Emma Wheaton is the best spinner in Springfield. She might spin for you if you ask. And she has three daughters at home who can help.”

  “It’ll take quite a while. The debt is rather large.”

  “Emma will do steady work. It’s Henry you can’t count on. When you talk to them, you’ll have to talk to Henry. Emma won’t disgrace her husband by assuming his place, but make sure she’s there when you make the arrangements. Henry won’t know if she can do one spindle a week or a dozen.”

  Nathan made some notes in one of his ledgers. “Who’s next?”

  “Ebenezer Gardner’s so lazy he probably wouldn’t lift a finger to feed himself.”

  “Then how can I get anything from him?”

  “Through his wife, Anna. If she can talk Ebenezer into letting their son Jonas take over the farm, you’ll get your money.”

  “And if he won’t agree?”

  “Foreclose and hire Jonas to work the farm with the understanding it reverts to him as soon as the debt’s paid off.”

  Isn’t that a little hard on Ebenezer?”

  “Jonas would take care of his parents. Besides, I don’t have patience with people who are too lazy to try. Anyway, Jonas has been wanting to marry Dorothy Price for more than a year now. He could do it if he had a farm.”

  “What about Andrew Russell?”

  “I don’t know. Did Gilbert Eells have any surplus crops this year?”

  “Yes.”

  “He always grows more than he needs and then runs up a credit with Noah Hubbard. You could take some of his credit and force Noah to give you hard money for it.”

  “I already thought of that,” Nathan said with a grin which almost made Delilah lose her train of thought.

  “It might help if people see that you’re not totally against the farmers.”

  “I’m not against anybody” Nathan said. “I just want what’s mine.”

  “That may be, but as long as you’re collecting debts, you’ll be lumped with all the other debt collectors.”

  “I’m depending on you to see that doesn’t happen.”

  “How?”

  “By helping me find alternatives. If they see I’ll only confiscate their property as a last resort, that I’ll even help them get ahead if it will help the at the same time, maybe it’ll stop some of this trouble.”

  “Why should you care what happens here? I thought you were going back to London.”

  “I may not. Several of my family found they preferred Massachusetts to London. Maybe I’m finding the same thing.”

  His gaze was so penetrating, so unwavering, it made Delilah feel warm.

  “But it’s decidedly unpleasant to have your neighbors gaping at you as if you’re some sort of executioner. Even less pleasant when you’re trying to be just the opposite.”

  His words went straight to her heart. His intentions were exactly the same as they had been the day she’d come to Maple Hill, only he seemed to be looking for more sensible, useful, humane ways to handle his affairs. That didn’t mean he was no longer a danger to her friends, but it certainly took the sharp edge off the sword.

  Things might change if you give them time,” she said.

&n
bsp; “How?”

  “Lots of people have relatives in England,” she replied, thinking rapidly. They don’t hold them responsible for the war.”

  “Just me.”

  There’re still plenty of tories in Massachusetts. If they can be forgiven, you can eventually be accepted.”

  “It’s been my experience that people forgive their friends and relatives virtually anything. They never forgive strangers.”

  “If you married someone from around here, you’d have lots of friends and relatives.”

  The shock of hearing the words that escaped her lips turned Delilah crimson.

  “Who are you offering as the sacrificial lamb?”

  “It’s not a sacrifice. I m-mean it w-wouldn’t be a sacrifice,” Delilah stammered, mortified, “if I were to marry you. I-I m-mean it wouldn’t be for the woman you asked to m-marry you.”

  “But it might be very difficult for you, or any other young woman from Springfield, who married me.”

  “People wouldn’t understand at first,” Delilah said, making sure to keep her gaze on the floor, “but they’d get used to it.” She looked up. “It’d probably be a lot harder on you.”

  “Why?”

  This can’t be the kind of life you’re used to. Coming from London you’re bound to want grand parties and clever people. Just the way you dress shouts that you don’t belong here.”

  “Don’t you like the way I dress?”

  “It doesn’t matter whether I like it or not. It’s just different. Like the kind of dinners you eat at night.”

  “Are these all my reprehensible habits, or am I totally irreclaimable?”

  “They’re not reprehensible… . You’ve got the all confused,” Delilah said. She paused and took a deep breath. “And you’re not irreclaimable. I imagine there’d be dozens of girls in Boston and Providence, even Newport, who’d be glad to have you.”

  “None in Springfield?”

  “You wouldn’t marry anyone from Springfield.”

  “Why not?”

  “Except for Priscilla, we’re nothing but farmers around here. Even Lucy Porter.”

  “I’ve never known any farmers before, but I might find I prefer them to London aristocrats.”

  “What would you do with Lucy or Hope in London? They’d be blushing one minute and giggling the next. And no telling what they’d say.”

  “I didn’t mean I would like all farm girls. One would be enough. Besides, farm girls can be quite enchanting,” Nathan continued.

  “With brown skin and strong shoulders? They look down on us in Boston. I don’t imagine your precious lords would even speak to us in London.”

  “Apparently my aunt has been using my exalted relatives to impress her friends,” Nathan said. “She’s notorious for stretching the truth.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  “I want to. I don’t want you believing I think I’m better than you. My mother was Uncle Ezra’s sister. On her side of the family my relatives are London merchants. My father’s family were also merchants, but his oldest sister married the fourth son of a poor earl. It meant I would sometimes be invited into the homes of the aristocrats, but I never belonged there.”

  Delilah saw a spasm of anger distort his features, but he controlled it quickly. She could see hurt as well. She wondered if this had anything to do with his leaving England.

  “I never considered not going back until I met you.”

  “Me! Why?”

  “I’d like to say it was your spirit, it sounds more admirable, but knowing me, it was probably the fact that you’re the loveliest woman I’ve seen in America.”

  Delilah had always known she was pretty. Massachusetts farmers had an outspoken appreciation for an attractive woman–but the loveliest woman he’d seen in America! Either the man hadn’t put his nose outside the door while he was in Boston, or he was besotted with her.

  “You look surprised.'’

  “Of course I am. Next you’ll be telling me I’m prettier than all the women you knew in London.”

  “No, there’s one who’s absolutely without parallel. Everything about her is perfection, but you’re much nicer.”

  Again the fleeting impression of remembered pain, but Delilah was too shocked and surprised by the enormity of his compliment to do more than notice it in passing.

  Nathan laughed softly. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re absolutely beautiful?”

  Delilah shook her head. “Pretty, but not absolutely beautiful.”

  “That he lies awake at night thinking about you?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Then I’m certain no one ever told you what wonderfully expressive eyes you have.”

  “No.”

  Nathan moved closer. “Or that to have you within reach and not be able to caress your skin is a temptation almost greater than a mortal man can endure.”

  “No.”

  He moved closer still. “That your lips are an irresistible invitation to kiss you?”

  “No.” Her response was a little breathless.

  “That I’ve spent days thinking of ways to get you out of the kitchen so I can see you as much as possible. Every beautiful woman should know she’s appreciated.” He reached out and touched her cheek.

  “How would you do that?”

  “It’s very simple.” He drew so close she could almost feel the heat of his body. “You let her know what you like about her”

  Delilah felt paralyzed. She had never had a man court her this way.

  “I particularly like your lips,” Nathan murmured. Their lips were now so close they almost touched. They are so full and red and wanting to be kissed.” His fingertip traced the outline of her mouth.

  “I don’t think they are.”

  “You just don’t realize it,” Nathan said.

  Then, leaning even closer, he let his lips brush Delilah’s. She felt as if she’d been struck a blow. Before she could decide what to do, he kissed her, this time pressing his mouth fully against hers.

  “Can you tell now?”

  Delilah’s breath caught in her lungs. Her whole being felt suspended, disembodied. How could a simple kiss affect her so profoundly?

  Tell what?” she murmured.

  That your lips are longing to be kissed.”

  How could he ask her to think? She felt as though she would jump out of her skin. Her whole body cried out to be kissed, touched, caressed, held close. Some primitive instinct told her that the only remedy was prolonged contact with the cause of this delicious ache.

  “Yes.”

  He took her face in his hands, drew her closer, and kissed her again.

  Delilah felt claimed.

  Nobody had ever kissed her like this. She wouldn’t have let them, yet she didn’t want Nathan to stop. The gentle movement of his lips against hers caused her whole body to lean in his direction, drawn by the nectar of this sweet honeycomb from which she longed to drink deeply.

  “Can you feel it now?” Nathan’s lips never left hers.

  “All over,” she murmured. “Everywhere.”

  Nathan drew her closer until her body pressed against his. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then used the tip of his tongue to delicately trace the outline of her lips.

  Delilah shivered in ecstasy. Never had the touch of a man so nearly destroyed her ability to function, reduced her to such a spineless puddle of desire.

  Nathan kissed the top of her nose and planted a pair of kisses on her chin before turning his attention to her parted, expectant lips. Delilah’s lips moved with his, touching briefly, enjoying the delicate softness, moving, seeking before Nathan claimed her in a deep, strength-sapping embrace.

  “Can you feel my desire now?”

  “Mmmmmm.” Her need to be close to him, the wish to concentrate her whole attention on the pleasure of his kisses overwhelmed her.

  Footsteps on the stairs intruded. Before she could shut them out of her mind, the angry ra
t-a-tat of heels sounded on the wide heart-of-pine floor in the hall. Delilah barely had time to step back from Nathan before the library door bunt open and Serena Noyes entered, two leather-bound volumes in her hand, the light of battle in her eyes.

  “Thief!” she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Delilah. “I found these in your room.” She waved the offending volumes under Delilah’s nose.

  “What were you doing in my room?” Delilah demanded, a flood of anger instantly transforming her rapture to outrage.

  Serena turned to Nathan. “Maybe this will open your eyes to the kind of person you’ve nurtured in our bosom.”

  “Answer Delilah’s question,” Nathan ordered.

  His angry scowl stopped Serena so abruptly, it took her a few seconds to adjust. “What question?” she asked.

  “What were you doing in her room?”

  “I was looking for these,” she said, showing him the books.

  “Am I to assume you wanted to read those particular volumes and being unable to find them on the shelves, decided Delilah must have them?”

  “I’d never read this stuff” Serena said, scornful of the two rather thick histories of the ancient world. “I can’t think what she wanted them for–”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “–except to sell them.”

  “That’s insulting” Delilah cried. “I know I shouldn’t have taken them without asking, but they looked interesting.”

  “What were you doing in here?” demanded Serena.

  “My job,” Delilah snapped. “Cleaning out the grate.”

  “Cleaning the grate doesn’t include looking through Nathan’s books.”

  “I’ve already said I shouldn’t have borrowed them, but I won’t have you saying I stole them to sell. Who could buy them?”

  “Do you really want to read these books?” Nathan asked.

  Delilah felt poor and insignificant, and that made her angry.

  “Yes,” she responded, trying hard to keep her wounded pride from making her say something she’d regret later, “but not if it means she has the right to search my room. I promise never to touch a single thing in this house again, but I won’t have anybody going in my room whenever they like.”