Cherished

by Elizabeth Thornton

  Hester snorted. “You are a fool, Emily Brockford, if you believe that. Just mark my words! One by one, we shall all meet with a fatal accident and…”

  The woman was on the verge of hysteria. Emily didn’t think about what she was doing. She slapped her. Hard. Sara’s gasp was as shocked as Hester’s.

  “Nothing is going to happen to us! Do you understand? We are going to New York. I’ve made the journey before. It isn’t so very far away.” She told the lie with commendable composure. She knew she did not understand half of what was going on, but she kept her misgivings to herself. One of them had to keep a cool head, and Hester and Sara were both near breaking point.

  “But why, Emily? Why is Leon determined to take us to New York?” Sara was wringing her hands.

  Emily voiced the answer without conscious thought. “Why? Because he believes that we are in danger and that we will be safer there with him.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  Leon’s face betrayed no emotion as he answered his friend’s question. “Nothing.”

  “You told them nothing?”

  “What would you have had me say?”

  “Didn’t you tell them you are innocent? Didn’t you tell them that you were caught in a trap?”

  “What? Tell them that we suspect either Addison or Benson or both of them together simply because they were armed and waiting for me outside Barbara Royston’s door?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, I did not tell them, for the simple reason that I was caught inside the room with the murdered woman at my feet. And where were you, James?”

  James’s nostrils flared. “You know where I was. I told you. I was in my room drinking myself into a stupor. When I heard the shot, I came running out.”

  “So, on that fateful night, four of us—Addison, Benson, you and I—were all at the scene of the murder. Now which of us do you think the girls will believe?”

  James glared, then laughed. “I see what you mean.”

  Removing the kerchief from his head, Leon wiped a bead of sweat from his upper lip, all the while his eyes scanning the river.

  “They won’t be on our trail for some time,” said James. “Tomorrow at the earliest. That gives us a day’s advantage. But, Leon, don’t you think you are carrying this too far? I can understand your anger. I was angry, too. But it’s another thing to let those girls go on believing that we are villains. They are half terrified out of their wits as it is.”

  “When I want your opinion, James, I shall ask for it.”

  “Fine.”

  A full minute was to pass before James unbent a little. “It would be the easiest thing in the world to set up an ambush,” he said. “If I were you, I would take no chances. I would rid myself of Addison and Benson permanently.”

  “One of them is innocent. Perhaps they both are.”

  “You don’t believe that and neither do I.”

  Leon’s lips curved in a genuine smile. “James, you are a bloodthirsty…”

  “Savage?”

  “Scoundrel. But ‘savage’ will do just as well.”

  “You never used to be so squeamish.”

  “I’ve never killed a man in cold blood.”

  “Oh? What about France?”

  Leon’s lids drooped, concealing his expression. “Who told you about France?”

  “Paterson. He is in my employ, remember?” James’s smile was devilish. “He listened in at keyholes. Not that he understood the significance of what he heard. But I did. Le Cache-Cache! Now, who is the savage?”

  “Who else knows?”

  “Are you asking me if your wife knows?” Leon’s tension communicated itself to his friend, and James’s amusement evaporated. “Yes, she knows. Addison came across some file and put two and two together. Good grief, if that kind of slip is what we may expect from our War Office, Napoleon must be rubbing his hands in glee, not to mention you Americans. Oh, yes, and Benson and Sir George know. They were trying to convince Emily that you are a dangerous fellow and not to be trifled with. Evidently, they succeeded. I don’t think anyone else was admitted to their confidence, but I could not swear it.”

  The profanity which burst from Leon was low and savage.

  “Ah!” James would have said more, but Leon moved off quickly toward the cabin, shouting names as he went. Three of the voyageurs sprang from the smaller of the two canoes and went after him.

  James could not contain his roar of laughter.

  They weren’t going to New York. They were traveling west on the Ottawa River. Emily was a tenderfoot, but she wasn’t a complete ignoramus. They were moving farther and farther away from civilization. She kept her knowledge to herself, knowing that if she confided in either Sara or Hester, they would jump to the direst conclusion possible.

  She had made up her mind that at an opportune moment, she was going to have it out with Leon. That moment never presented itself. The three ladies were in the center of the longest canoe. Leon was at the back of the craft, acting as steersman. James Fraser was in the other boat. He had offered to take one of the ladies with him, but at the very mention of separating them, Hester almost had been overcome with another fit of hysterics.

  The deerskin garments were satin-soft and as comfortable as Leon had promised, allowing for far more freedom of movement than the fashionable gowns they had left behind. Still, Emily wasn’t sure that to expose so much bare leg was quite decent. On the other hand, in the drawing rooms of polite society, she had bared a fair expanse of bosom without a ripple of conscience. The absurdity of ladies’ fashions tickled her.

  She lifted her hands to secure the kerchief on her head and her breasts wobbled alarmingly. The impulse to fold her arms protectively across her quivering flesh was hard to resist, knowing that she would only draw attention to herself, she forced herself to relax. She was almost three months along and, without stays, showing it. Her belly was still tight, but her breasts were ripe and heavy. Soon, very soon, she must tell Leon. She tried to imagine that moment and shuddered. He would force her to return to York where she could be properly looked after. She wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She was going to stay with him where she belonged come hell or high water.

  They were making another stop. Emily judged it to be eight or nine in the evening. The sun was fairly low on the horizon, but the light was still good. There had been many stops on the way. Every hour or so, the voyageurs needed to smoke their pipes. Occasionally, they went on shore. The ladies made no objection since it gave them the opportunity to stretch their aching muscles or take care of other needs which were too delicate to make known to the gentlemen.

  Those occasional stops had brought about one major change in Emily. Getting on and off the canoe was no longer a thing to be dreaded. As they neared the shore, the voyageurs leapt out of the boats to prevent the rocks scraping a hole in the fragile underside. Emily leapt down with them and waded ashore. Leon was waiting for her.

  “We are making camp for the night.”

  Leon’s tone was no warmer than his expression. Emily didn’t let that deter her. “Leon, we must talk,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “About…everything.”

  “Fine. I’m listening. Talk.”

  He was making things very difficult for her. She chewed on her bottom lip. “If only you would explain…”

  “I don’t justify myself to anyone, especially not to you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

  Defeated, Emily joined her companions, who had seated themselves on a fallen log well out of the way of the voyageurs. No one gave them a second stare.

  “I say that we hide ourselves in the forest,” said Hester. “William and Peter are bound to come looking for us.”

  Emily never took her eyes from the men who had been set to unload the canoes. “How long do you think it will be before they come to rescue us?”

  “I don’t know. A few days. A week. What difference does it make? We know that they wi
ll come.”

  “How do we know? I do know my husband, and Leon is expert in setting a false trail. Look how he had us all believing that he had fled across the American border.”

  “Then what are we going to do, Emily? It’s all right for you. I’m the one who stands in danger.”

  Emily’s eyes probed Sara’s. “Do you really believe that Leon wishes to harm you?” she asked softly. “Don’t you remember how it used to be when we were children? When Leon came to Rivard, I hardly saw you. There was something special between you both, some kind of affinity.”

  “That’s what I used to tell myself, but don’t you see, Emily, it’s only what I wanted to believe? I was jealous of you. You were the elder. Everything always came first to you. When you and Leon took an instant dislike to each other, I was glad. For the first time in my life, I came before you.”

  “But later, long after Leon and I were wed, you loved him. You begged me to seek an annulment.”

  Sara looked away, then raised her head to meet Emily’s intent stare. She shrugged helplessly. “I thought I loved him. I was wrong. You know, he wasn’t in the usual way of the young men of our acquaintance. All the girls were mad for Leon. I am certain of one thing. He never gave me the slightest encouragement.”

  Hester had been listening to the conversation with diminishing patience. When there was a pause, she burst out, “This is all very interesting, but it is to no purpose. We still haven’t decided what’s best to be done.”

  Two sets of eyes were trained on Emily as though all the wisdom of the world resided in her. Almost by rote, she repeated what she had said before, that if Leon and James had wished to harm them, there had been ample opportunity.

  Her words seemed to relieve Sara of her worst fears. They made no impression on Hester.

  Referring to Leon and James, she said, “They are not our kind. Who knows what goes on inside their heads? Devereux is an outlaw. Fraser is a savage. It wouldn’t surprise me if they intend to sell us to the Indians. In that case, we may never be found.”

  “Why should they do that?”

  Hester’s tone was vicious. “Because we are aristocrats and they are the dregs of society. This is a vendetta, don’t you see? Look at us! They’ve dressed us like savages. They take a perverse delight in humbling us.”

  Emily shook her head. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you.”

  “Then why am I here?” wailed Hester. “I am not involved in any of this. They could have returned me to Lachine if they had wanted to. I am an aristocrat. That’s what they’ve got against me.”

  “Emily?” Sara’s eyes were dilated with fear.

  Slowly, Emily rose to her feet. Her voice was hard with resolve. “Until I speak with Leon, we do nothing, do you understand?”

  For the next little while, Leon was unapproachable. Setting up camp was quite an undertaking, and Leon seemed to be everywhere at once. The canoes had to be unloaded and set on their sides on the shore. A fire had to be started so that the one hot meal of the day could be prepared. By the time Emily was ravenously devouring bannock and pea soup, the darkness was almost complete.

  She bided her time. The meal over, the voyageurs lost no time in lighting their pipes and passing round the obligatory keg of rum. Each man was allowed only one long swallow before the keg was reverently stowed in one of the packs.

  It was James Fraser who came to escort the ladies to the solitary canvas tent which had been set up for their exclusive use. Leon threw one brooding look in their direction before moving off toward the smaller of the upturned crafts. Ignoring Hester’s whining complaints about their sleeping arrangements, Emily darted after him.

  When she called out his name, he spun to face her. Firelight played across the hard planes of his face, but she could not tell what he was thinking until he spoke. “What do you want?” he asked harshly.

  “We have to talk.”

  “I’m in no mood for talking, but rather for bed.” He indicated the upturned canoe with the canvas sail which had been stretched across it.

  “Let me come with you.”

  At her words, the air between them seemed to become charged with passion. Her body began to throb in anticipation. She could have drowned in the heated stare that held her so easily, so inexorably.

  “Please?”

  He hissed a yes into the silence. Dropping to his knees, he slid beneath the sail and extended one lean hand to her. When she complied with his command, as one man, the voyageurs let out an almighty roar. A moment later, they burst into song.

  Beneath the canvas, it was almost as dark as pitch. Though Leon was little more than a shadow, Emily would have recognized him blindfolded. He had the curious effect of heightening all her senses. She knew the smell, touch, and taste of him. The moment he laid his hands on her, her very flesh leapt.

  His lips were only a hairbreadth away when she cried out, “Leon, I mean it. We must talk.”

  “When did talking ever solve anything between us?” His hands were moving over her, taking intimate possession. “You feel good. You’ve been driving me crazy all day, you and this get-up.”

  He wasn’t exaggerating. The loose deerskin robe had freed more than her rounded, womanly curves. Her movements were as graceful and as unaffected as those of a fawn. It was as though all the years of her vigorous training, the drawing-room lessons in ladylike posture and deportment, which he knew his sister had inculcated, were left behind with her stays in Jacques Lagimodiere’s log cabin. There was nothing lewd in the change in Emily. It was his imagination that was indecent. Even her breasts were more generous than he remembered. And her nipples, pouting, begging a man to kiss them and fondle them were almost more than he could resist. Whenever they had stopped on the trail, in spite of his justifiable anger, he had wanted to pounce on her and drag her behind one of the rocks and lose himself in the sweet womanliness between her thighs.

  He took her chin between his cupped hands, forcing her lips open beneath his kiss. Wet. Warm. And the delectable taste that was only Emily’s. He fought her power, This time, he was the one who was going to cast the spells.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders and he pulled back slightly, then rolled till she was under him, her back cushioned against the pile of blankets that served for his bed. It took a moment before it registered that his wife was resisting his embrace.

  “We can’t,” she panted. “Everyone will know what we are doing beneath this canvas.”

  “They already know.”

  “But…they will hear us.”

  Though she could not make out his features, she knew that he was smiling. “I’m not making a noise,” he said.

  “Not now, but…” She groped for a polite way of expressing herself. “Later,” was all she could come up with.

  He chuckled. “When…later? When you make those little choked-off cries that drive me wild for you? When you come? When I come? Or at the very end when you bawl your eyes out?”

  She punched him on the shoulder with enough force to make him wince. “I don’t think this is funny. How could I possibly face your men in the morning, knowing that I know that they know that we know…What are you laughing at?”

  His warm hands were making forays beneath the hem of her robe. “What the deuce is this?”

  “Drawers,” she said, “and don’t think you are going to charm me into changing my mind.”

  Laughing softly, he whispered something in her ear that earned him another sharp slap on the shoulder. Nothing daunted, he disposed of the drawers. His hand slid between her thighs, nudging her knees apart, finding the creaminess which contradicted everything she had been saying. His finger probed deeper and Emily gave one of the choked-off cries he had referred to. Leon’s breathing became labored.

  His chuckle came out more of a groan. “Charm? Is that what you call this?” he asked, and flexed one finger deep inside her body. Her hips arched clear off the blankets and her head fell back. By this time she was whimpering. He burie
d his face in her hair. “And is this charm?” He raised his hips and ground the hard shaft of his sex against her belly. “Emily, help me. My ‘charm’ is killing me.”

  “Leon,” she sobbed. “They’ll hear us.”

  “They won’t hear a thing. They are singing and won’t stop until I give them the signal.”

  Her hands went to his waistband, freeing him from the constrictions of his breeches. When she cupped his swollen sex and stroked him the way he had taught her to, Leon thought that the end had come sooner than he had anticipated. One more touch and it would be over. He removed her hand and peeled out of his breeches.

  “You are losing control,” she purred, the lazy smile in her voice revealing a feline satisfaction.

  “It’s almost two weeks. What did you expect? I can’t hold off any longer.”

  Later, much later, she turned her head into his shoulder. “They stopped singing a long time ago,” she mumbled and nipped at him in playful punishment. “You lied to me!”

  “The poor fellows were going hoarse. This is only an intermission. Once they get their wind back, they’ll start up again.”

  He rose above her and pinned her hands above her head. “My affair with Barbara Royston was over long before I went to England to claim you. But I already told you that. I went to see her to buy her off because I was sure that she was out to make trouble between us. When I entered her rooms, she was already dead.

  “There is something else you should know. She and her husband had an understanding. They went their separate ways. For appearances’ sake, they would spend a few weeks together every winter, but beyond that, they rarely saw each other. Barbara had many lovers. I swear I was only one among many.”

  The sound of his breathing filled the silence. Emily waited, knowing that there was more to come.

  “I never wanted you to know that I was involved with La Compagnie. If I ever catch up with Addison I think I shall kill him for betraying my secret to you. I permit no one to question me about a time in my life I wish to forget.” He paused momentarily. “And that is the only explanation you are going to get.”