War of Hearts, A Historical Romance

by Lynn Hubbard

  “I haven’t slept well in years,” she confessed, and received a pat on her arm for support.

  “These are dark days,” she replied. “But you should not worry. Master Tristan adores you. He will care for you.”

  She snorted at that. “Until when? Until someone else catches his eye?”

  “No Miss…”

  Boots clopping down the stairs drowned out their conversation. Sarah’s green eyes met Tristan’s blue ones and her heart sped up on its own accord. He hesitated on the last step as if he wasn’t sure whether to approach her or not. She looked away first and he sighed, heading to the dining room.

  With the ball two days away the Colonel was in a tizzy. Ryan was scribbling frantically as the Colonel named off a whole list of to-dos. Sarah promised to help them tomorrow, and received a grateful smile from both. Breakfast was over and done; too soon Sarah found herself alone at the table with Tristan.

  Silence filled the room and Sarah traced the silver pattern with her finger.

  “Sarah…” he started.

  She glared over at him and he reluctantly stood. “Time to go.”

  His head swam with emotions and he was not sure where to start. There was so much he needed to tell her, however he was terrified for some reason. Terrified to let her know what a powerful presence she was in his life.

  This crazy plan of hers was very dangerous and he was unsure who would make it out alive. His priority was her life. He cared naught for anyone else.

  Of course he would feel sad if Gabriel fell. But if anything happened to Sarah, he wasn’t sure he could go on. The fact that she had filled his life with her essence in such a short time confused him greatly.

  He had women in his life before, and none of them had anything close to what Sarah could offer. Her heart. It was as simple as that. So why couldn’t he just tell her?

  They walked silently to the carriage and he crossed over to help her climb up. She accepted his hand reluctantly and sat up stiffly in the seat; as close to her own side as possible. The seat sunk down slightly as Tristan sat, and with a click of his tongue, they were off.

  Sarah glanced at the scenery without seeing it. She could smell the salty air as they neared the sea and was surprised when he pulled to the side of the road and stopped.

  “Sarah, please say something.”

  She ignored him, watching a bird scratching the ground looking for worms.

  “Please?”

  She glanced over at him hearing the need in his voice.

  “It’s not you Tristan, it’s me. I’m not sure who I am anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what I mean. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. I don’t see the girl from Jersey who followed her brother into war. The person I see is a stranger. Someone who is willing to kill without a second thought. Someone who…who lies with a man just for the pleasure of it. It isn’t right.”

  Tristan’s heart clenched at her pain. She dissolved into sobs and he pulled her into his arms even though she fought at him weakly. He kissed her hair as he held her. Rubbing her back he tried to soothe her. Her sobs quieted and he offered her his handkerchief.

  “Sarah, nothing you have done is wrong. Randall was a waste of air and deserved to die. As far as being with me, I am to blame. I fell for you the first time we met. I had to have you; and since I have, I cannot fathom being with another. I know it is selfish, but whenever you are in my bed, I never want you to leave. And when you aren’t there, well I can barely function with worry. As far as my joke yesterday, I grievously regret it. There is no cathedral in the world that can compete with your beauty.”

  She rolled her eyes and lightly punched his arm at the jest.

  He gently grasped her chin and turned her head to face him. “Seriously, I know we have not discussed the future; but if I am graced with one, I want you to be in it. I want to spend my life with you, and I would be honored to have you as my wife.”

  Sarah sat in a stunned silence, not sure if this was real or a dream. “You want to marry me?” she asked cautiously.

  “Of course. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “It’s what I thought I wanted. I used to believe in fairytales, where people live happily ever after. Does that seem foolish?” she asked softly.

  “Happiness is never foolish. There is so much sadness and hurt in these times, we have to hold on to every scrap of joy we can find. Do I make you happy?”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes. But…”

  He frowned. “But what?”

  “Robert.”

  His brows angled in confusion. “My brother? What about him?”

  “I was close to Robert, and he…he wanted to be with me. I…I turned him down. He’s married.”

  Tristan scoffed. “If you could call that a marriage.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I was hoping you had more respect for the sanctity of marriage.”

  “Of course I do! So, if Robert wasn’t married?”

  She shook her head. “That is not even an option. He is married so I said no. I just wanted you to know. I don’t want there to be secrets between us.”

  “No secrets,” he whispered, leaning over and kissing her gently.

  A gunshot rang out from nearby, startling the horses. Tristan grabbed the reins and fought for control. Sarah clutched desperately to the seat; she would have clung onto Tristan’s arm but she assumed he needed both of them at the moment.

  The scenery flashed by and she was filled with fear for Tristan’s safety, as well as her own. Standing up, he wrapped the reins around his fore arms and pulled with all of his might. The horses balked at first but soon started to slow.

  A tired Tristan sat down next her. “I hate horses; I’d rather be on a ship.”

  “Well, then let’s get going,” Sarah replied.

  “Aye, Aye.” He grinned, setting them off on a slower pace.

  ***

  The plank was already lowered when they arrived, and Tristan held tightly to Sarah’s hand as he guided them across. Not seeing Gabriel on deck, they headed below.

  They located him in the captain’s quarters holding a pistol aimed at the door. “Whoa!” Tristan called out as Gabriel lowered the weapon with a grin.

  “Just making sure.” He grinned, clapping hands with Tristan and nodding to Sarah. He motioned to the maps he had pulled out and they crowded around to listen.

  Gabriel used coins to mark out the current position of the boats and slide them around as he and Tristan finalized the strategy.

  “You and Sarah will be on the Sea Maiden in case she is needed.”

  “No,” Sarah spoke up. “I need to be on the Vixen. Many prisoners will be sick and injured. They will need me.”

  “Absolutely not!” Tristan countered. “It is too dangerous. A couple more hours will not make a difference.”

  “It will to them.”

  “You don’t understand; that boat is full of disease and vermin. I will not risk it,” he added.

  “Vermin?” she seethed. “Those are men! Brave men, who will be strong once more. I will trust their care to no one else.”

  Gabriel watched the pair with interest. His eyes followed them back and forth; he would have smiled if the discussion were not so serious.

  “I did not mean to imply that the men were vermin, just that they would be covered in it. They will have to be undressed, and that is not a chore for a lady,” Tristan pleaded with her.

  Sarah let out a frustrated groan. “A lady? I have seen men fighting bare-naked because their clothes had worn off their reduced frames. I have assisted in surgery and been subjected to every human by-product imaginable. Blood, pus, urine, feces, vomit, spit, and tears. General Washington had the entire camp inoculated against small pox, which saved countless lives. Not to mention I have been exposed to every disease imaginable and have become stronger for it.”

  “My men can handle it,” Gabriel spoke, earning a fiery glar
e from Sarah.

  “Your men will be exposed, if you mingle them with the rest of the crew, you risk exposing everyone on both ships. All should stay on the Vixen in quarantine until they pass or are healed. They would stand a better chance of healing if I were there as well. Don’t forget that your brother will need care as well,” Sarah spat back.

  The men glanced at each other uncertainly. Her words made sense. Tristan sighed. “Well, if you are going to be on the Vixen, then so am I.”

  “And who is going to captain the Sea Maiden?” Gabriel asked.

  “You are. Jonathan will be rescued. We will save all we can.” The last bit he added looking at Sarah.

  Sarah flung herself into his arms as he held her close.

  Chapter 22 Food for Thought

  Back in the carriage both were quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Sarah’s stomach rumbled and she blushed, laying her hand on it to stifle any future noises. Tristan’s blue eyes twinkled at her. “Hungry?”

  “No,” she mumbled back.

  “Well I am. I know a great place to eat.”

  Sarah did not reply; he turned down a road she vaguely recalled and tried to get her bearings. This city was like a maze. She doubted if she would ever figure it out if she lived here a hundred years. He pulled up and parked the carriage in front of a tall brick building. Wondrous aromas wafted out the door and Sarah realized how hungry she really was. With a sigh, she leaned down into Tristan’s arms as he lifted her to the ground.

  Keeping his arm around her waist he led her to the door of the cookery. A finely dressed gentleman bowed to them as they entered . Sarah felt out of place immediately. He greeted Tristan by name and led them into the dining area. Sarah couldn’t help but glance around at the linen laden tables with fresh flowers and candles.

  The man pulled out Sarah’s chair for her and she felt awkward when he scooted her back in. Sarah looked on in surprise as a young boy hurried over with water goblets and another man with an air about him asked them what they wanted to eat.

  Sarah glanced at Tristan, unsure how to reply. He winked at her and requested he recite the specials.

  The server cleared his throat, repeating the list in a bored monotone. The droning noise caused her mind to wander, and she glanced around at the other finely dressed patrons. She wondered if the stuffy people would be attending the ball.

  She heard the man clear his throat again, tapping his foot, and she turned to look at him. “Pardon me?” she asked.

  “What is your selection?”

  “Um…I’ll take the lamb,” she replied, pleased her mind had pulled forth a word from his rambling list.

  “The same and we will take tea as well,” Tristan added.

  He nodded without comment, disappearing into a back room.

  “I have never seen a place such as this,” Sarah said, twisting in her seat to stare at the elaborate fare being carried to the other tables.

  “I used to eat here fairly regular; that is before I had such a lovely house guest.”

  “I’m not sure I would consider Ryan as lovely,” she teased.

  “No, but he is quite a catch from what I hear.”

  “Yes, which is why I’m accompanying him to the ball.” Sarah lifted the water goblet and took a sip, trying to hide her smile. Tristan frowned. He had almost forgotten that.

  “We’ll I do hope you save me a dance.”

  “I will try desperately.”

  The server returned with two bowls of soup and wordlessly set them in front of them before retreating. To escape Tristan’s intense stare, which penetrated her soul, she bent her head to take a sip. Her hand shook a bit, betraying her own deep emotions.

  The warmth filled her throat as she swallowed. She was sure it was delicious, however the only taste in her mouth she wanted was Tristan’s. As time drifted away, Sarah was desperate to express her feelings to him. He had largely led all of their encounters. That was going to change.

  She looked up, meeting his gaze filled with a need of her own. A slow smile spread across her face as she moved her leg underneath the table and ran her foot up his calf.

  The spoon Tristan had lifted toward his lips stilled in midair. She watched amused, his hand was wavering and dribbled the broth onto the spotless tablecloth.

  “Hungry?” she asked.

  He leaned forward, tensing with an animalistic need as food left his mind. He watched her smile widen as she traced an imaginary path to his inner thigh. In desperation he clutched her ankle holding her still, his pants tightening around his groin.

  A gleam filled his own eyes and he grasped her foot, tugging her closer toward him. Her chair squeaked from the forward motion and she squealed in alarm, pulling away quickly. Her knee hit the tabletop hard and knocked over his water goblet.

  They received several stares at their antics and Tristan quickly attacked the growing puddle with a fine linen napkin. He smiled at her as she hid her reddened face behind her hands.

  She was relieved when the waiter returned, his arms laden with plates. Their food was served on fine porcelain plates; they were hand painted with the King’s crest. Sarah’s eyes were drawn to the lamb shanks and she delved into her meal.

  Tristan watched her eat as if this meal might be her last. His gut clenched in fear for her safety. An idea formed in his head and a devious smile crept over his face as he too ate with relish!

  After their meal, Tristan took her arm and guided her outside and down the boardwalk. She soon found herself at the last place she wanted to be: the dress shop. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself to her full height and bravely marched inside.

  She was immediately set upon by the proprietor. He clasped his hands in delight before grabbing her arm and practically dragging her to the back of the store.

  “I wasn’t sure at first but I do think this is my best work yet!” he crooned happily, pulling out her dress from amongst others.

  Her mouth fell open forming a soft ‘o’ as she stared at the gown. Light seeped in through the window and gleamed off the silk. Bursts of lavender peeked out of the smoky gray as the dress shifted in the sun. It was magnificent. The heavy silk was embellished with decorative stitching and ruffles at the sleeves and chest.

  She reached out almost shyly to feel the fabric. The full skirt was bustled in the back and was held up with pantaloons.

  “Do you want to try it on?” he asked.

  “Oh no! I would never want to take it off!”

  “Very well, do you need undergarments as well?” he asked hopefully.

  She blushed a bit, thinking of all the ruined bloomers and how they had become ruined. “Yes, I need everything,” she emphasized.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he replied, digging through some wooden boxes. He returned with a gray pair of pointy-toed shoes, the perfect color of the dress. They had been embroidered to match the intricate pattern of the gown. A tiny raised heel was the last aspect and Sarah looked at them in awe. She had never seen shoes such as these.

  “They are wondrous; however, I already have shoes.”

  “Humph! You cannot wear a dress such as this with dusty boots. I insist. Besides, all the women will have matching shoes.”

  Sarah frowned again thinking of how wasteful the British were. Imagine buying shoes you could only wear once. “Fine,” she replied. It would do no good for further protest. She didn’t need to arouse anyone’s suspicions. She turned and escaped through the partition, only to find Tristan fingering an elaborate wig.

  “No.”

  He turned to look at her, “It would complete the look.”

  “No, you have spent enough on me.”

  “I insist,” he said, handing the large bundle off to be packaged. Sarah frowned and swept from the store. She didn’t like the idea of the ball in the first place, and to be dressed up as a living doll was just too much. She glanced down the road and found an apothecary shop. An idea popped into her head and she walked over.

  The small room was gloomy a
nd had a heavy feeling. Different odors competed against each other to make the place even more repugnant. Looking around wearily, she spotting a wizened woman in the back and headed over.

  “Help you?” her voice quivered with age.

  “Yes ma’am, do you carry powdered rhubarb?”

  “Of course, how much do you need?”

  “All of it.”

  She was rewarded with a blackened grin, and she winked back. Grasping the brown package, she returned to the carriage. There she found a frantic Tristan.

  “Where have you been?” he asked, pulling her into a rib-crushing hug. She held up her package and replied, “Insurance.”

  They arrived back at the manor and Tristan carried the bulky packages inside. Sarah would have assisted him, but it was too amusing watching him teeter with the load.

  She followed him up the stairs, noticing for the first time how his leg muscles tightened against his pants with each step. Curiously, she reached out her hand and traced it down his rigid thigh. He let out a muffled curse as he stumbled up the last few steps.

  Reaching her bedroom, he dropped the packages in a heap and turned to her. “Were you trying to kill me?” he asked, watching as she shut the door behind her and turned the lock with a click.

  Tristan’s mouth felt awfully dry as she took a step toward him. “Do you want to see me in my gown?” she asked, her hands falling to the buttons on her dress.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, too bad. You are just gonna have to wait.” Sarah moved closer to him until they were almost touching.

  “I’m not a very patient man,” he mumbled.

  “I know,” she said, pushing him back onto the bed.

  She dropped to her knees and unbuckled his boots, pulling them off. His socks were next and she slid her hands up his calves, feeling the firm flesh. She sensed him relaxing and climbed on the bed next to him. His hands reached for her and she pushed them away. Fumbling with his buckle, she quickly released the clasp and worked the buttons loose on his trousers.

  Piece by piece she disrobed him so her hungry eyes could soak in the view. They had two days left, and she was not going to waste a minute. She placed her hands on his face and leaned over him, tasting his lips. Her tongue slid between them and he opened his mouth willingly. She heard a moan and wasn’t sure if it was his or her own. She pulled her mouth away while she still had the strength and continued her exploration of his body. She slid her finger over his shoulders, tracing every dip and curve. Moving to his chest she gently rubbed his nipples between her fingers. She was intrigued how his buds hardened; kissing each one she moved lower yet. Following the path down his breastbone, she arrived at his taunt stomach. It was well defined with layers of muscle and she felt robbed by his usual attire that hid him from her.