by Betty Bolte
Ben rose slowly from his seat and walked around the table. She braced for another lecture. She faced him, arms crossed over her racing heart as he drew nearer. He mounted his high horse at the drop of a feather, always telling her what to do and how to do it. He had no right. A muscle jerked in his clenched jaw, his frown shadowing his eyes.
When he reached out to clasp her folded arms, she shook her head but refused to step back. She did not fear him. He held no malice toward her. Still, an inner voice whispered that Walter had once seemed sweet and caring. She dared not look at how the others interpreted this scene. Ben's scowl lightened as he folded his arms and contemplated her.
"Actually, I do have the right to take you home to your father at his request."
"You would do so knowing my feelings?" Amy searched his stern eyes.
His dimples deepened as he showed his teeth in a knee-knocking smile. "Yes, my dear, if that is what I must do to protect you."
"I am needed here." Amy grabbed for any plausible reason to delay departing even though she wished for nothing more than to not be in this particular house. But to give in to his demands would leave her open to his whims, a situation she did not relish. "My sister is not well and due to deliver her child. I won't go until I know she is safe."
Ben's smile faded. "I expected to be back in town this evening."
"No one is stopping you." Perhaps his rigid posture softened with her statement, realizing Amy meant what she said. "Come back in a few days, and if Evelyn has delivered her baby, I'll consider your wishes."
"You can't honestly expect me to leave you behind." Ben dug his fingers through his long black hair.
Why had he foregone the usual queue and left it loose? He knew how he affected her. That was a large part of the problem. He was too sure of himself. The unwanted desire to sink her hands into his silky hair tingled warmly inside. She flexed her fingers on her arm but held firm against the urge to reach out to touch him.
What was she thinking?
Steely resolve squelched the hint of desire. No. She must keep her vow. Ben endangered her freedom and equilibrium.
"You have my condition." Amy met his dark gaze, determined to retain control of her own life.
Indecision flickered in his gorgeous blue eyes, and for a heartbeat she regretted causing him anxiety. Obviously he felt obligated to whisk her somewhere safer than out in the countryside where violence happened every day. But Evelyn needed her here. She refolded her arms across her chest, trying to hide her rapid breathing.
"I'll take you home whether you are willing or not, Miss," Ben said. "Once I'm certain you're safely ensconced with your father and Frank as well as your slaves to protect you, I'll return to keep an eye on the women here."
"You need not worry," Walter interjected from his seat at the head of the table. "I shall protect this house and its inhabitants."
"My apologies for implying otherwise." Ben bowed his head toward Walter. "But with two of us we can present a greater resistance."
"You're wrong, Benjamin." Amy pressed a hand to her stomach and hoped no one noticed its tremor. "I won't leave with you."
"Be reasonable, sweetheart." Ben's words emerged clipped, his frustration evident in the tone and tempo. "With the increased British foraging activity in the countryside, I promised your father I'd have you by his side this evening."
"Why would you promise such a thing?" She bristled at the thought of his actions behind her back. "You do not hold sway over me."
"Nevertheless, we must depart ere long if I am to have you home safely before dark."
Her father must be more worried than she'd initially suspected if he'd sent Ben all the way out here to fetch her. Perhaps her mother actually needed Amy to return and this was the excuse she'd used. Ben wouldn't say anything about her clandestine activities in front of everyone, even if he fully comprehended the extent of them. Doubt regarding her stern refusal crept into her mind, diluting her resolve as easily as water in milk. Yes, that must be why Ben insisted she accompany him at once. As such, she would go with him, but not as his fiancée. They must be clear on that point.
She made a show of studying his face, seeing once more the thin scar running from his left brow to his cheekbone. What had he done to earn such a mark? His square jaw and strong chin suited the strength of his character. A beautiful man, but not for her. Not anymore.
She gazed into his captivating eyes, forcing herself to ignore the pull they held for her. "I shall go with you, but only because my father insists." Amy paused, stretching out her little act. "With one condition."
"Another one?" Ben smiled at his seeming conquest.
"I'll not be your betrothed no matter what my parents promised you."
His smile grew wider. "We will see about that."
A woman's cry of pain echoed down the stairs. Samantha leaped to her feet and ran out of the room, Walter close behind.
"Oh dear." Amy hurried around the table, her skirts snagging on a chair and toppling it over as she raced after Samantha. "Evelyn!"
She ran out of the dining room and up the stairs, praying she would not trip and fall like some weak damsel in distress while Ben pounded behind her. A moan filled her ears, and her heart beat faster. What was wrong? Was Evelyn ill yet again? She pushed away the image of Cousin Elizabeth's dead body, the infant squalling in the crib beside his angel mother. Finally she reached the door to her sister's room and hurried inside.
Samantha glanced up as Amy reached the bed where Evelyn lay moaning, gripping the sheets in both hands on either side of her. "She's started her labor. We need to ready her."
"Tell me what you need." A worm of self-doubt wiggled through her as Samantha calmly smiled at her.
Ben raced into the room, skidding to a stop at the scowl Walter shot his way. Amy squared her shoulders. Despite her parents' wishes, Evelyn needed Amy here. Samantha ticked off a short list of items she required—clean linens, hot water, scissors—and Amy turned to do her bidding but was stopped by the tableau before her.
"Can't you see my wife is in bed, sir? Kindly step outside." Though his words came out pleasant enough, Walter's tone revealed a simmering anger.
"Come, Amy." Benjamin eased toward the door. "You heard the man."
Amy gaped at him, surprise chased by a wave of annoyance. She frowned, perplexed by his lack of understanding of the situation. "I'm not leaving. My parents, and especially you, don't need me as much as my sister."
The play of irritation and expectation across his face nearly made her laugh. But she could tell such a reaction would be ill-advised.
"You agreed to leave with me," he said in a level voice. "You gave your word."
She wondered how much control it took him to maintain his exterior calm. She pushed past him with a wave of her hand. "The matter is settled. I'm needed here."
He grabbed her arm before she made it to the door. His eyes locked on her lips, and for a long, agonizing instant she thought he'd kiss her. If he did, all her resistance would melt and drift away like frost on a sunny winter morning. Then his eyes met hers, and she felt the full heat of his glare. "Pack your trunk, Miss Amy. I'll not allow you to stay here without me to protect you."
She glared back at him for a moment, then shrugged as she allowed a sweet smile onto her lips. "Have it your way. There is a spare bedroom at the other end of the hall. Right now, get out of my way." She stared emphatically at his hand, still grasping her upper arm, until he released it. Then she left the room at a run.
* * *
Amy ran down the steps, away from Ben's pursuit. She rushed down the hall and slipped into the study, hoping he wouldn't follow. She looked at the door she'd just closed and then leaned against it. Her breaths came quick and shallow as she braced her hands on the warm wood of the door. She needed a moment to collect herself before fetching the items Samantha requested. But, oh, she desired to breathe for a spell. Her senses swam in confusion, her heart drawn to him, her head warning her away. Stale smoke and
old leather permeated the air. Walter's private room exuded masculine pursuits and tastes with its heavy wooden desk, chairs, side tables, and bookshelves. Dark green drapes graced either side of the windows, dimming the interior light. Pounding in her ears from her rapid pulse made it difficult to hear Ben's determined footfalls. The steps halted on the other side of the door, and the knob turned slowly, pushing inward before pausing.
"Sweetheart, step back."
How could he tell she was standing at the door? Was he psychic? Her pulse quickened. Taking several paces away, she turned and watched in dismay as the door inched open.
Ben entered, deliberately, one measured step at a time, closing the distance between them. His glacier eyes rested on her, never wavering. He stopped within a foot of her and took her tense hands in his. "Sweetheart, why do you run?"
"You want too much from me." Amy tugged on her hands, but he tightened his grip, easily capturing her fingers in his. "I cannot give what you want."
"I want you, Amy. I always have." He squeezed her hands, sending sparks through her veins.
"Once, that may have been true." She gazed at him, tears pooling in her eyes. If she blinked, they'd fall. She swallowed. "Then you left me, without even a word of good-bye or explanation."
"I know, and I've apologized for my failing." One corner of his mouth lifted. "Words are not my servants as they are yours. You possess a talent for telling stories and an imagination I will never have."
"A simple note, Benjamin, that's all it would have taken." The pain buzzed inside her as she remembered the morning she discovered he'd left in the middle of the night. "It hurt so."
"My sudden departure?" Benjamin's lopsided grin faded. "I am sorry, my dear. I will not do that again. You have my word."
"Your word?" She looked at him, searching his face for the truth. She found sincerity shining from his eyes. Could she trust him? Did she want to? "How can I believe you when you say words fail you?"
"You must believe this, then." He tugged on her hands again, this time drawing her to him. Treating her like a doe ready to flee. She knew what would come next, longed for it and dreaded it simultaneously, and was powerless to stop it. He moistened his lips as his gaze slid from her eyes down her nose, settling on her mouth. He lowered his head slowly, finally pressing his lips against hers.
The anticipation of his kiss only made the reality that much sweeter. At the first press of his mouth, her body remembered his touch and scent and she melted against him despite the warning bells ringing in her mind. The reasons for her vow seemed distant and childish as she savored his taste, their tongues twining, exploring. Without her permission, her hands roved his chest, pushing aside his coat. Ben's hands likewise lightly grasped her shoulders. Then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him. Her firm breasts pressed into his muscular chest, igniting another wave of heat spreading from her core to her hands. She tugged on the coat, and he helped her slip it off his shoulders. She impatiently flung it to the floor and ran her hands up his shirtsleeves to his strong jaw, all the while kissing him. Her desire—no, more than that; her physical need to savor his skin against hers swamped her reason. She wanted to slide her fingers across his bare chest, explore the muscles beneath her hand.
"My love, my dearest," he whispered against her mouth. "I—"
He stiffened and gently pushed her away. She opened her eyes and saw him focused on something behind her. Oh no. Caught in the act of kissing Ben right after declaring she'd never be his wife. What was she thinking? She let her desires dictate her actions, exactly what she'd promised she wouldn't indulge in. She pivoted to ascertain who had interrupted their kiss, an excuse already forming on her tongue.
"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry!" Emily said from the doorway. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
Embarrassed and yet grateful for the intrusion, Amy moved away from Ben. She patted her hair, hoping it was salvageable. Then touched her tingling lips, the light pressure reminding her of the heat of his kiss. A kiss that removed her sanity, apparently. She didn't want to contemplate how far she would have gone if not for her cousin's intrusion. "It's fine, Em. What is it?"
"Benjamin," Emily said, cheeks flushed as she fixed her gaze on Amy, "Walter needs your assistance with that thing at the front door, something about levers and hinges."
"I'll be right there." Ben looked at Amy, and her cheeks warmed when his gaze rested on her pulsing lips. "Though I'm not going anywhere without you, my dear. You do have my word on that." He retrieved his coat, shook it out, then slipped it on before leaving the room.
Emily grinned at Amy, moving farther into the study. "Looks like you're restarting your relationship with Benjamin. What about your vow to not marry?"
"Kissing him does not mean I will marry him." Amy shrugged, hiding the conflicting emotions ricocheting inside. A change of topic. That's what she needed. She patted her hair again, smoothing stray strands as best she could without a mirror. "I've kissed a few others in my life without any need to plan a wedding. Speaking of which, how are your wedding plans coming along, given that you're out here with me?"
"I've done all I can for now, what with the restrictions on everything. My first problem is that our church currently is afflicted with a loyalist minister. I won't be married by him, but what am I to do?"
"You may have to ask at a different church if you want a patriot to perform the service. Or wait until the war actually ends to be wed."
"Wait? We don't want to wait." Emily rambled on about the service and the question of the details to inscribe on the invitations. Amy thanked the stars for helping her to distract her cousin into talking about something else, to take the focus from the scene she had stumbled upon. At least they had not removed any clothing other than Ben's coat. Fortunately. Though they had been on their way to divesting more of their clothing right there in Walter's study. Her face flushed with heat at the possibility of Walter entering his study to find them in such a state of undress.
"There won't be many flowers blooming in January, so that's another problem." Emily shook her head. "Maybe we should wait until spring after all."
"But Twelfth Night is such a traditional day to marry. You don't want to delay your wedding for months because of flowers, do you?" Amy glanced down and saw a small silver box lying underneath the chair beside the desk. What was that?
"No, I want to be with him as his wife as soon as possible." Emily grinned. "But I also want the occasion to be memorable as well." She paused. "What are you looking at?"
"I believe Benjamin dropped something while we were..." She ducked her head and walked over to the chair.
"The way you two were acting, it's not surprising. What do you think it is?"
Amy retrieved the box from under the chair and held it up so Emily could see it also. Intricately detailed carvings of flowers wound around the small container. She held it lightly, feeling a warm tingle in her fingertips. "I'm not sure, but it looks like a jewelry box."
"He did say he came to propose." Emily crossed her arms over her chest, a mischievous grin spreading onto her mouth. "Open it."
"Oh, I shouldn't." Amy fingered the box, angling it in the lamplight to see it more clearly. The little box looked remarkably similar to the one Ben had presented to her years before, the one tucked into her trunk upstairs. Perhaps it was to be her engagement gift. "Should I?"
"What could it hurt?" Emily raised her brows in invitation.
Holding her breath, Amy flipped open the lid and gasped. She slowly lifted the smoky-gray, heart-shaped pendant from its satin bed and set the box on the desk. Holding the clasp, she watched the pendant slowly spin on the long gold chain, catching rays of light and dancing them across the somber room. "It's beautiful. I bet he meant this to seal our betrothal."
"Go ahead, put it on. You know you want to." Emily motioned to her to hurry.
Entranced by the refracted light shooting from the depths of the crystal, Amy played with the clasp for a long moment. Before she
could change her mind, she slipped the chain around her neck. She reached for the pendant and held it, feeling as though the gem had come home. But such a notion made no sense.
"It's gorgeous." Emily braced both hands on her hips as she watched Amy examine the gem. "He really chose a lovely engagement present for you."
"He did, but it's rather cocky of him to purchase such a gift without more certainty of my response." Amy stared at the gem, reluctant to remove it even though she recognized she had no right to wear it until he actually presented it to her. As she reached to remove the necklace, Samantha's voice urgently summoned the two women.
"Emily! Amy! Hurry!"
She dropped the chain, the weight of the gem nestling between her breasts as concern pierced her heart. Without another word, they ran from the room.
* * *
A sliver of moon hung in the periwinkle heavens, surrounded by the first glimmerings of stars. An owl hooted in the dark. Benjamin paced along the garden path, simmering impatience gnawing at his self-control. While he couldn't in good conscience leave, his duty also called him back to town. He couldn't be in two places at once. A long sigh sounded behind him, and he continued his pointless pacing.
All throughout the day Evelyn's cries had disrupted the routine sounds. Belinda kept hot water boiling in the kettle at Samantha's insistence. Other than glimpses of her hurrying up and down the stairs to fetch linens and hot water, he had not seen Amy since he'd caught up to her in the study earlier. He repeated the scene in his mind's eye, his declaration of love met with silence. Her heart remained closed to him even as she'd so passionately returned his kiss. But hope lingered in her response. At least her desire gave him something to work with.
The kitchen door opened, pouring lamplight into the garden. Walter came down the steps as the door slapped closed behind him.
"Nice night for becoming a father." Walter strolled over to join Benjamin. He filled a long white clay pipe with tobacco, tamping the fragrant leaves down in preparation for lighting them. He retrieved a taper from the firewood and kindling waiting by the back door and used it to transfer the flame from the oil lamp lighting the pathway to the pipe bowl cradled in his large fingers. Smoke curled upwards as he inhaled, drawing the flame deeper into the burning tobacco.
