Enchantress

by Constance O'Banyon

  “It’s useless, Brittany. I can see that the doctor was right. He cannot live, and it would not be fair to make you share his agony.”

  “I want to try something. I promise you I will make you father as comfortable as possible and not allow him to suffer unduly. I can do it, Thorn,” she insisted. “I know I can.”

  He drew in a deep breath, knowing Brittany could do nothing, because the doctor had said there was no hope. “Yes, try anything you wish, but I fear nothing will help.”

  “Leave me now, but send Esmeralda to me. Have the servants bring in a tub of water.” She rolled up her sleeves and moved to the window, giving a tug on the heavy velvet curtains that sent them crashing to the floor in a stream of dust. She then flung the window wide to let fresh air into the room.

  Brittany turned back to find Thorn watching her. “Hurry. Send Esmeralda to me.”

  “Is that old woman still alive?”

  “More alive than most people I know. Hurry, Thorn!” She moved to his father’s side. “Do not allow anyone but Esmeralda into this room.”

  An uneasy silence had settled over the house. It was as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting to hear that the master of Stoddard Hill had died. Servants went about their tasks talking in whispers.

  Thorn had been banished from his father’s room by Esmeralda, who claimed he was just in her way. He had not seen either the doctor or his stepmother since he had told them to stay away from his father. When the doctor protested, Thorn had reminded him that he had said he could do nothing more for his father.

  Brittany watched Esmeralda mix a powdered substance with water until it became a white paste. “You hold his head while I spoon the theriac down his throat.”

  Benjamin meekly took the liquid into his mouth because he was too weak to protest. Brittany felt pity for him as Esmeralda spooned more of the horrid-smelling liquid into his mouth. His skin was as white as the pillow he lay upon, and he looked more dead than alive.

  “Now what?” Brittany asked.

  “We will wait a bit. He will become ill, and vomit. If there is poison in him, I hope he will get it all up.”

  Brittany watched Ben’s face for any reaction, but he lay still and lifeless. Then he began to stir and moan. In a short time, Benjamin became violently ill and begin to retch. Esmeralda held a pan for him while Brittany held a damp cloth to his forehead.

  “Leave me alone,” he mumbled. “Let me die in peace, old woman.”

  “If I leave you alone, you will die, Master Benjamin. We have to get the poison out of your system.”

  Brittany met the old woman’s eyes. “I was right then; he ate something that made him ill?”

  Esmeralda’s eyes became black slits. “Yes, he ate something that set ill with him. Come, let’s dose him up again. We got to get it all out of him.”

  For over two hours, Brittany and Esmeralda worked over Thorn’s father. At last he lay quietly, and it seemed his pain had eased. Brittany had changed the bedding while Esmeralda dressed him in a clean nightshirt. Now Brittany stood beside him, wiping his face with a cool cloth.

  Ben licked his lips and glanced at her. “When I look at you, I think I am in heaven, but when I see Esmeralda, I know it must be hell.” He turned his eyes to the slave. “You and me aren’t going to heaven are we, old woman?”

  Crackling laughter came from her lips. “That’s right, Master Ben. You and me’s too ornery to go to the good place, and most likely they won’t have room for us in the other place. I always thought I’d get there first and then have the place made ready for you, but now I ain’t so sure.”

  He smiled slightly. “If I’m not in heaven, then who is this beautiful angel?”

  “Why, Master Ben, don’t you know your own son’s wife?”

  Ben’s eyes widened, and he raised a weak hand. “I always knew that boy had a head on his shoulders.” His eyelids fluttered. “I’m going to sleep now. There’s no more pain.”

  Brittany picked up a fan and circulated the air around him so he would sleep more peacefully. “Thank you, Esmeralda. He would have died if not for you,” she whispered.

  “Yes, he would have—and he still might. It would be wise if you saw to his food from now on.”

  Brittany’s mouth rounded in shock. “Do you mean that you think…that someone…No, that is not possible.”

  “I know when someone’s been poisoned, be it by good means, or foul. I’ll say it again—the master needs looking after by those you can trust.”

  Brittany nodded. “I see that now.”

  “I’m too old for such goings-on. I’m going home. Want me to send Master Thorn up?”

  “Yes, please. And, Esmeralda, let’s keep this between ourselves for the time being. If someone means Thorn’s father harm, we can catch them better if they do not know they are suspect.”

  The old woman moved agilely to the door. “Please yourself. But make sure he don’t eat nothing you haven’t seen to first.”

  Brittany’s eyes softened when they rested on her father-in-law. “I’ll watch him as if he were my own father.”

  “If you need me, send someone for me.”

  Brittany smiled at the dear old woman who had been a true friend. “I will. But get some rest now.”

  Esmeralda padded out of the room, feeling useful for the first time in years. Master Ben had been right, the young mistress was an angel sent from heaven. It was certain she was too good for this house.

  Thorn watched Esmeralda make her way toward him. She gave him a wide grin and wrung his hand. “You came back just in time. You should stay where you belong.”

  He smiled. “The choice was not mine. I had to go, Esmeralda.”

  “Go on up to your pa now.”

  “Is he…is he…”

  “He’s sleeping peaceful. Iffen God’s willing, he’ll be up and about in a few days.”

  “Are you saying that—”

  “I’m saying that he’s alive, Master Thorn, and if I’m any judge, he’ll make it. Now, why don’t you go on up and sit with that pretty wife of yours.”

  Thorn felt a shock wave of relief. “How is it possible that my father could improve so quickly when the doctor had given up hope?”

  “How should I know? Am I a doctor?”

  Thorn started toward the stairs, almost afraid to hope. He paused on the landing and looked back to Esmeralda. “You like Brittany, don’t you?”

  The old woman chuckled and moved to the door, her homespun gown flapping against her bony legs. “She’s a keeper, Master Thorn—a real keeper. She taught this ole woman that there is still goodness in the world. Iffen you don’t look to her, someone will run off with her.”

  Thorn took the steps at a run. When he stood before his father’s door, he felt nervous and unsure.

  He opened the door softly, so Brittany was unaware of his presence. He stood in the shadows, watching her for a moment. She was fanning his father, a soft and loving expression on her face.

  He rubbed his hand over the dark bristle on his chin. He hadn’t taken the time to shave—would she mind?

  He moved to stand beside Brittany, who gave him a tremulous smile. He was lost for a moment in a pair of deep green eyes.

  “Did Esmeralda tell you that your father is better?” she whispered.

  “Yes, but I can hardly credit the remarkable change in him,” he answered in a low voice. “His color is better, and he is breathing easier.” Thorn looked around the room and found it smelled fresh and no longer like a sickroom. In fact, the whole atmosphere of the house seemed to have changed since Brittany’s arrival—or was it just his imagination?

  “I like your father, Thorn.”

  He drew her to him. “What about the son?”

  Ben opened his eyes, and his voice boomed out. “What are you two whispering for? Do you think this is a sickroom? For God’s sake, Thorn, if you are going to make love to the girl, take her out of here.” Ben winked up at Brittany. “I don’t think my old heart could ta
ke much more of this.”

  A blush tinged Brittany’s face, and she moved away from Thorn. “I have decided I will sit with you tonight, Mr. Stoddard, since Thorn stayed with you most of last night.”

  “Where did you find this beauty, Son, and why didn’t you tell me you had a wife? What’s your name, young lady?”

  “Brittany.”

  “Well, Brittany, I like to be called Ben by pretty girls, especially when they’re young enough to be my daughter.”

  She smiled brightly, liking Thorn’s father more by the minute. “All right, Ben.”

  Thorn slid his arm about Brittany’s waist. “So, you like my wife.”

  The old man grinned weakly, tired from his ordeal. “I always gave you credit for being clever, Thorn, but if that’s true, then what are you doing here? Both of you go on, I don’t need a nursemaid hovering over me.”

  Brittany knew that until they found out if someone had tried to poison Ben, he could not be left alone. “You must not fret, Ben. I am going to stay with you,” she insisted.

  Ben saw the determined light in her eyes, and was too weak to argue with her. “Can you read?”

  Thorn laughed. “In what language would you like her to read to you, Father? She knows eleven of them.”

  Ben looked disbelieving. “Can’t no man read in eleven languages. That’s quite a feat for a tiny slip of a girl.” He glanced at his son. “Bet she has you running to keep pace with her.”

  Thorn glanced at the ceiling in a gesture of helplessness. “You cannot imagine.” He took Brittany’s hand. “You don’t mind if I tell my wife good night?”

  The old man waved them away. “Don’t keep her too long. I want her back.”

  Thorn pulled Brittany to the door, and she looked up at him coyly and asked, “Did everything go well for you in Washington, Thorn?”

  He had decided not to worry her with details. “About like you would expect.”

  “That is no answer.”

  “It is not worthy of your concern, but I have news of Achmed.”

  Her eyes shone with hope. “You have found him?”

  “Not yet, but one of the men I hired to look for him reports that Achmed has been seen. It seems a slaver came upon him the day he went into Charleston, and finding him without papers, took him to the auction. But not, I might add, before Achmed sent a dozen men clamoring for a doctor to tend their cuts and bruises.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “That we don’t know. But we do know that he was sold to a plantation; we just don’t know which one yet. Tomorrow I’ll go into Charleston and see what I can discover.”

  “I don’t understand why anyone would take Achmed. He is not a slave.”

  Thorn could not control the smile on his lips. “I was told he was bought with the understanding that he would be a good breeder.”

  “But Achmed, cannot…He is a…eunuch.”

  Thorn laughed, and his blue eyes danced with humor. “You know it and I know it, Brittany. But the man who bought him didn’t know it. Can you imagine how surprised he will be when he learns the truth?”

  Brittany failed to see the humor of the situation. “I just hope the man doesn’t punish Achmed for what he cannot do. I want Achmed back, and I want him tomorrow!”

  Thorn pulled her to him, holding her so tightly the buttons on his coat pressed against her. It was glorious to be held in his arms. He bent his dark head and touched his lips against hers.

  “How will I sleep without you beside me, Brittany?” he whispered.

  Her face was flushed, and she melted against him. Suddenly she remembered they were not alone, and she twisted out of Thorn’s arms.

  “You have managed very well until now. You look weary, Thorn. Please go to your room and get some rest.”

  He nuzzled her ear. “I suppose I’ll have to be content to dream about you.”

  She gave him a warning look and pushed him toward the door. “Go to bed.”

  “Brittany, are you going to read to me, or not?” Ben called out.

  She turned to her father-in-law, while Thorn watched her move gracefully across the room. With a feeling of regret, Thorn went to his bedroom alone.

  He thought of soft green eyes, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  Chapter Thirty

  The sun had just made its appearance above the pine trees when Brittany tiptoed out of her father-in-law’s bedroom and walked the few paces to Thorn’s room. It was a glorious day, and she hoped there would be more word on Achmed’s whereabouts.

  When she opened the door, disappointment crushed in on her. It was apparent that Thorn had slept in the bed because the sheets were rumpled, but the room was empty.

  She hurried out into the hallway and down the stairs, hoping she would find him having breakfast. To her dismay, he was not in the dining room, either, but Wilhelmina was.

  Wilhelmina’s hard gaze settled on Brittany. “If you are looking for your husband, you missed him. He said he had pressing business in town.” Her eyes became narrow slits, and her voice was sarcastic. “Thorn does seem to keep his distance from you, does he not? You must have lost your confidence, since your husband seems to prefer to be where you aren’t.”

  Brittany moved toward the door, unwilling to match wits with Wilhelmina today, but the honey-sweet voice stopped her.

  “So, you and Esmeralda are feeling proud of yourselves this morning. Perhaps you should hang out a shingle and practice medicine.”

  Brittany turned back to Thorn’s stepmother. “I cannot take any credit for helping your husband, madame. Esmeralda was the one who discovered what his trouble was. She has exceptional knowledge of herbs and potions. I would think you would be glad that he is improved.”

  Wilhelmina’s eyes were stabbing. “And what was my husband’s trouble?”

  Brittany watched Wilhelmina’s face. “As I am not a doctor, I cannot say. Esmeralda believes he ate something that disagreed with him. It does not appear it was his heart at all. I am certain that if you were to visit with Ben, he would tell you how much better he feels.”

  Wilhelmina shoved her plate aside and came to her feet. “You would do well to remember not to meddle in other people’s affairs.”

  Wilhelmina sailed out of the room, leaving Brittany to ponder her actions. Wilhelmina did not even try to hide the fact that she cared nothing about her husband’s recovery.

  Esmeralda was right. Strange things were happening in this house. Brittany intended to look after Ben and see that his health continued to improve.

  Brittany had lunch in Ben’s room so she could cajole him into eating the food Matty had prepared for him. Afterward, she read him a few pages from a farm journal until he fell asleep.

  She closed the book and laid it aside. She then tiptoed out of the room, whispering to Livia, “Stay with him, and do not leave him until Esmeralda comes to relieve you for dinner.”

  The girl nodded and took up her vigil beside her old master.

  Brittany had discovered the little cottage some time ago, but she had never gone inside, since the door was always locked. Today, however, the door stood open because one of the servants was cleaning it. Brittany stepped inside, immediately aware of the peace and serenity that surrounded the cottage.

  The servant had dusted and scrubbed and waxed the three rooms until they sparkled and smelled of beeswax.

  Approaching the bed, Brittany sank down into the soft mattress and felt the breeze from the open window cool her cheeks. She imagined the faceless Stoddard women who must have come here before her. She tried to imagine herself and Thorn here, but then she sighed and turned to glance out the window.

  A shadow fell across Brittany’s face, and she turned to see Thorn standing over her.

  “I did not hear you come in,” she said, sitting up. “I hope you do not mind that I am here.”

  He sat down beside her, although he kept his distance. “Why should I mind?”

  “Did you find out about Achmed?” she ask
ed hopefully.

  Thorn nodded. “Yes, I have located him.” He smiled at her. “How would you like to take a carriage ride tomorrow and bring him home?”

  Before Brittany had time to consider her actions, she threw herself into Thorn’s arms and hugged him. “You are truly wonderful. I can never thank you enough for your persis tent search for Achmed. You are the kindest man I know.”

  He glanced down at her, feeling her nearness in the depths of his heart. “Have a care, little dancer, it might be that I did this just to get you in my arms.”

  She drew back, embarrassed by her actions. “I am sorry. I was carried away with gratitude.”

  Instilled in Thorn was the strength and dignity of the Stoddard men who had come before him. Hot blood ran in his veins, and he wanted to dominate this woman who belonged to him. “What if I came to claim you as my wife, Brittany?”

  She looked at him with uncertainty, then dropped her eyes to his brooding lips and a ripple of pleasure washed over her. “But I am your wife. And…you have already claimed me,” she reminded him.

  His laughter went through her like a warming tide. “I love your honesty and your straightforwardness. Don’t ever change, little dancer.”

  While Thorn had been talking, he was expertly unfastening her gown. He had not meant to make love to her, but when his fingers trailed across the silkiness of her slender body, he could not help himself.

  He sank back on the bed, surrounded by a shimmering cloud of soft gold. In no time at all, Brittany’s gown was in a heap on the floor, quickly followed by his clothing.

  Outside in the garden, a bird sang sweetly, and was answered by the warble of its mate.

  Brittany eagerly came into her husband’s arms, stirred by the flame she saw in his eyes. His caress heated her blood, and his lips were hot against hers. She groaned as he rolled her over and clasped her to him.

  The thrill she felt at his entrance into her body made her cry out. Wave after wave of sweetness engulfed her while her body answered his strong forward thrusts.

  Her heart was hammering, and her breath quickening as he mastered her body.

  Thorn lost all reasoning. He could not think past the pleasure he found in Brittany. His fluid movements swept them both away in a torrent of passion.