Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Joshua mutter a curse. A certain warmth radiated throughout her body that flirting with Captain Sunderland had produced.
But the effect lasted only a second. She tore her gaze from the captain’s. Her heart clenched. Oh, Joshua, it is as if I’ve known you all my life, and when I’m with you, I don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything.
She knew Joshua Hansford.
Pushed behind a wall of painful emotions, trapped in the swirling waters of his subconscious, existed a fear of feeling…and being vulnerable.
Her heart ached for the highly intelligent frontiersman who was unable to see how his life made him into an island…untouched and…isolated.
He did not fool her. Not for one moment. He wanted to break free of that prison, thirsted for human contact. Teaching him to dip his toe into humanity’s tumult was good for him…and she would teach him. Her maneuverings would be painful but would serve to annoy him enough to bring him to the light. Time was what she demanded.
Captain Sunderland held up his arm and she threaded her hand through it. “I’m on duty but have a few minutes to chat if you would do me the honor.”
“That would be wonderful, Captain.” She sashayed perfectly, having Joshua’s attention.
Lost in her thoughts, she heard Captain Sunderland say something and nodded, not really hearing what he’d said.
“Then you will accompany me home to England?”
He looked surprised she had accepted and there was more depth in his meaning than she wanted to plumb at the moment. Captain Sunderland was gallant and handsome and would make any girl swoon. She liked him but not in the way he desired. “I-I can’t surely say. Tell me of your ancestors.”
Impressively, he went on, the entire lineage, back to Caesar’s invasion of England, none of which she paid attention to as they circled the grounds, and then back to the bartering.
One trader shot forward, shaking his fist in Joshua’s face. “You are a son of a whore to demand such price.”
“I assure you my birthright is legitimate and should deck you for your disrespect. My furs are of excellent quality and will bring high profits in Albany.”
Two Eagles stepped between them.
She said loudly, “This haggling is like two cockerels fluffing their feathers and shaking their wattles yet knowing they would not fight.”
He stiffened from her insult, and then followed Two Eagles’ gaze to where the doors of the fort opened. A well-dressed man entered.
Joshua left the traders, walked to the boardwalk where she and the captain stood and made an exaggerated bow. “Captain Sunderland, Lady Faulkner. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty
Leaving. Her stomach plummeted.
Juliet followed the scarlet-coated soldier to her cousin’s office, irked by his haughty summons when she wanted to be alone in her room. How could her heart still be beating when surely it must be shattered to pieces?
Had Joshua left without saying farewell? Had he walked out of her life? To not see him ever again? She wiped her eyes, willing away a fresh wave of tears.
What did her cousin want and at a time like this? Where was Mary?
The door opened, and her jaw dropped. “Edmund!” She darted around the soldier and fell into her cousin’s arms. “Is it truly you? I’m not dreaming?” She held him in a death-grip, refusing to let go and he swung her around.
“Fit as I’ll ever be, Juliet. I’ve missed you.”
His father harrumphed and nodded to the soldiers to leave. “Put Juliet down, Edmund. Such display of emotion is improper. You both forget your places.”
Edmund pushed her at arm’s length. “You are the last person I expected to see here. How are you here?”
“A long story but you are here and there will be time to share. You look wonderful. The years have been kind to you, Edmund.”
The only relative who was ever considerate of her frowned. Conflicting shadows flashed across his face. She pressed her hand to her chest. A glimpse of that haunted look she’d seen in him as a child. What plagued her dearest, sweetest cousin?
“I see you have filled out from the scraggly, skinny boy I knew. If my sum is correct, you are at eight and twenty years. You are truly handsome and I’m sure, capable of causing any girl’s heart to flutter.” Juliet laughed and pulled him down on a chair next to hers. He’d grown tall and filled out his tailored breeches and frockcoat, so out of place on the frontier.
She raised her gaze up to his face and, looking at him, an odd familiarity struck her. How much he looked like someone she knew. How similar…almost identical…he bore an uncanny resemblance to Two Eagles.
“And you have grown into a fine young lady. We have so much to catch up on.”
She could not take her eyes away from his face. The same angle to the jaw, high cheekbones, dark hair, dark eyes, alert. From head to toe, she examined him. Same broad shoulders, same build. Edmund’s skin was lighter, his clothes English. Dressed in a breechclout the differences might be nonexistent.
Were their similarities a freak of nature? Was it possible that a cookie-cutter version of two people living on opposite ends of the world existed?
She shook her head, stopping her bizarre thoughts. No. It could not be. Impossible. Her mind was playing tricks.
“Edmund has recently graduated from Oxford as a barrister. I wanted him to remain home and begin his practice. You can imagine my surprise when I received his letter from Montreal and he was on his way,” said Colonel Faulkner, his censorial tone severe.
“For some godforsaken reason, Father, I wanted to see this new world that beckoned me and kept you away from me for so many years. If I remember correctly, you’ve been home for only two weeks of my life.”
The colonel clapped his hand on his son’s shoulder. “It is good having you here, Edmund.”
Juliet’s heart swelled. It was the first time she’d seen the taciturn Colonel Faulkner show any kind of affection. He loved his son.
“You will have to suffer my company,” Edmund said, looking to his father and smiling.
“Never will I suffer your company, Edmund.” His voice hoarse, the colonel straightened his coat and returned to his chair behind his desk. “I’ve important dispatches to prepare to send on the ship you arrived on. We will have dinner this evening.”
“Like true soldiers, we are dismissed,” laughed Edmund rising and taking Juliet’s hand. “Dear cousin, I will enjoy your company.”
They moved inside the fort, passing the kitchens with meats roasting on a spit and the scent of warm bread drifting from the ovens. Sentries changed guards from their boxes atop the parapets. Curious onlookers took their fill of the two unusual newcomers.
“They are looking at you, Juliet. You were lovely as a child, but have grown into a stunning woman.”
Juliet glanced at him again shocked by the similarities to her Indian friend. They strolled along a boardwalk to where Mary stood. She wanted her friend’s opinion. “I want you to meet someone.”
Mary turned and gasped. “Where did you get those clothes?”
Edmund glanced to Juliet, questions in his eyes.
“This is my cousin, Edmund, and this is Mary. You two never had the opportunity to make acquaintance in England.”
Mary gaped.
“He has just arrived. What do you think, Mary?”
Mary’s hand flew to her chest. “He is an exact replica. How can this be?”
Edmund narrowed his gaze, drew his hand up to his chin. “What are you up to, Juliet?”
Mary stared at Edmund in wonder and amazement.
Juliet swung her cousin around to face her. “Did you ever think of the possibility there could be someone who is similar to you in every detail?”
“You are talking riddles,” Edmund said. “What are you talking about?”
“We must introduce them,” Mary said.
“Introduce whom?”
Skin
tingling, Juliet said, “Two Eagles. He is an Oneida Indian, part of the powerful Iroquois…” She looked Edmund in the eyes. “And an exact duplicate of you.”
He snorted a laugh in dismissal. “You ladies are being silly, and I’m rather tired and prefer not to meet any savages.”
Juliet tilted her head back. Oh, they may look alike, but there was a huge difference—Edmund’s prejudice sizzled like acid in his condescending tone, bigotry stamped into him; inevitably bred from birth. “But you must. The resemblances are—”
He scratched his jaw, a chin relatively smooth, absent of facial hair just like the Indians.
“I am going to rest. Perhaps later you can show me this savage.” He strode away, kicking up puffs of dust from his heels, leaving a dazed Juliet and Mary on the boardwalk.
Juliet pulled Mary away from two soldiers who seemed to linger. “I’m thinking about staying in America. I want to fight for my marriage, I haven’t figured a way as yet, but I’m determined.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Joshua opened the door to his room, his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. He was not alone. He yanked a knife from his belt alert to an intruder.
“Joshua, I…”
He pressed the door closed. “Juliet, what are you doing here? We cannot meet anymore.”
“You can’t mean—”
“Shh.” He stuck the blade back in the sheath. All of Joshua’s instincts shouted to send her away, back to England where she belonged. “Your security is sealed with your cousin. If he finds you in here with me, he’ll assume the foulest of conclusions. I’ll be hanged and, worse, your reputation will be ruined.”
“But the vows—”
He hungered for Juliet—and her alone. He had spent the past years teaching himself not to feel, and now in just a few short months Juliet had brought every bit back to him—the savage joy, the sweet torment, the lust, and the heat. “Our vows no longer exist. It was a ruse and one I at no time agreed to hold you to.”
She said nothing and a long silence hung in the air, shattered by the sorrowful song of a whippoorwill.
Then he looked at her.
She searched his face, her pupils large, her eyes moist. God, it killed him to send her away like this. Then her tears released to fall on her cheeks.
His heart aching, he simply stared at her, the moonlight illuminating her beautiful tear-streaked face. He could lift her skirts, feel her feminine softness, let her warm musk pour over his hands. The bed yawned behind him. He could lay her down…kiss away her tears and release the throbbing ache in his loins…make her his. Spirit her away in the wilderness. She was his wife, after all.
She lifted her chin, brushed at her cheeks with her sleeve. “I suppose I have peculiarities that find your lack of advantages to be a major part of your charm. Each and every time, I was the one drawn to the lame cat or runt pig of the litter.”
He deserved that, but it didn’t take away the sting. “Your maidenhood is intact. No one need know anything passed between us. With encouragement on your part Captain Sunderland will provide you a good life. He has a fine pedigree. You will be coddled in England…a fine house…a perfect life.”
“I don’t want—”
He clamped both hands on her wrists. Perhaps too tight. “It is no concern to me what you want. You will be cherished and most importantly…protected.”
Footsteps echoed down the hall. They stood like characters caught in an artist’s mural rooted in the moonlight’s dreamlike haze; time spinning by on flying wings. He had a sudden keen awareness of her lavender scent mixed with the woodsy smell of pine logs. And from the window, he felt the gentle breeze caress his face. It was as if they stood alone in the palm of the world, as if the beauty of the night existed only for them.
The world closed in on him, and he realized it was because he still held her wrists, his thumb moving in lazy circles across her skin. Outside a cloud passed, making a giant blur of the moon, like a distant lantern seen through threadbare curtains. The cloud was moving slightly to the northwest, and would soon disappear. She leaned into him, but he held her at a distance.
What a world of anguish and longing he saw in the glistening blue depths of her eyes. He thought of the slight melodious quality of her voice. He thought of her pealing laughter when she had pushed him in the river. He thought of her slim white thighs and pert breasts upon him, and the delightful moans when he had carried her to pleasure.
“It galls me how you can stand pious enough to make the decision for the both of us.” She glared at him. “Why did you tell that soldier to keep quiet? Who is he? What are you hiding?”
He dropped her wrists. She must have listened to his conversation with John, his father’s former tenant at Belvoir Castle. He had told John to keep secret his true identity. How much had she heard? “Do not allow your pretty head to mull on minor things that don’t concern you.”
“I could search him out. Ask questions—”
He took a step, towered over her. “That man wanted some furs for his wife, is all. Is it not right for a man to have a private discussion?”
“Perhaps you are a spy and are gathering secrets?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You are a woman of the senses. I meant nothing by it. It is over. There is nothing between us.”
“The lie rolls off your tongue slicker than water off a millwheel.”
He lifted his hand to touch her but withdrew. “I made a mistake. I should have kept my urges in check. I will see to it our marriage is annulled.”
Her voice trembled. “What made you forget what we shared?”
What could he give her? Death and destruction on a frontier amidst the pulse of revolution? An insecure future?
He could have none of it. He could not have Juliet, for his life was governed by dread. A bleeding, scheming dread that possessed a life of its own; in moments, it could render him powerless, infecting his body like poison.
He lived in hell. Loving Juliet would doom her to the same fate.
He had to let her go.
“We should have taken care not to complicate the problem. You’re an appealing woman. It would be so easy to—” He compressed his lips in a grim line and glanced at the bed.
“Easy to what?”
“Easy to roll you like a whore. There is nothing lacking in your shameless offerings.”
She drew up a hand to slap him but stopped. “Oh how you want me to hate you.” Her voice softened. “What are you afraid of, Joshua?”
“Afraid? Your notion is laughable.”
“You are afraid. You do want me.”
“You have invented a far-fetched feminine whim.” He stepped back, but she grabbed him to face her.
“Your façade is growing thin. I will not allow you to leave without me. I’ll make sure of it.”
She’d be happy as Lady Sunderland, the toast of society, fine clothes, bedecked in jewels, servants aplenty. Then why did acid bile rise in his throat at the thought?
“I see,” she said at last. “Captain Sunderland is more of a man than you will ever be. Even his kisses—”
There was nothing more Joshua wanted to do but kiss her to teach her a lesson for taunting him. His body heated like wildfire as her soft curves melted into him. Hungrily his mouth covered hers, his tongue tracing the contours of her sweet mouth.
Her hands slid up his arms and linked around his neck, her fingers winding in the tendrils of his hair at his nap. Aroused now, he lowered one hand to the small of her back and kissed his way down her smooth throat, following the elegant curve to her collarbone, right where the edge of her gown met skin. He nudged it down, tasting one new inch of her, exploring the soft, salty sweetness, and shuddering with pleasure when he cupped the rounded swell of her breast with his hand, feeling her nipple under his touch.
God, he wanted her.
He took her mouth again and the minute she moaned, he thrust his tongue deeper to wield her passion. He breathed her, tasted the heady wine on her
lips, and savored her. His mouth twisting, bruising, rousing, his tongue plunging through her like a brand, searing her, having her. The kiss was more than merely bending her to his will. He wanted total possession and to punish her for making him desire her.
He clasped the soft flesh of her bottom and pulled her against him, making her aware of his arousal. She pressed her soft body into him, driving him insane with need. He stood on the precipice of desire. Any longer and they’d both be lost.
Somehow, he managed to push her away, his breath bursting from him in ragged blows. “Does Sunderland kiss you that way?”
He opened the door, looked both ways.
“And what of me?” she hissed. “Isolation your master. Is that my punishment because you choose to wallow in mourning, personifying honor and duty to a woman who no longer exists? Oh, how you will wander around with your mantle of invisibility. Like a speck of dust floating in the air that will never be seen because it prevails to hide in darkness.”
She twisted free and stumbled out into the hallway.
The door snapped shut behind her, the curtains rustled and stilled, and the room went quiet. He leaned his palms against the hard rough plank of the door as her steps faded away.
Juliet. Sweet, beautiful Juliet who’d captured his heart…and his soul. And he’d never see her again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A sergeant ushered Joshua into the colonel’s office where Faulkner stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His pretense of calmness did not fool, Joshua. The colonel was tense. Warning bells clanged in Joshua’s head.
“Meet Captain Snapes. He has shared some interesting information with me.”
Joshua raised an eyebrow at the British captain sitting in the corner. The man who had incited Onontio’s attack on the Hayes’ household. Nothing to recommend…bulging cheeks, sloping chin, piggish mouth.
Yet his pig-like eyes flicked with keen interest, analytical, disciplined and something else he assigned to grasp—fanatical. Joshua’s gut sunk with a leaden feeling. Had someone seen Juliet leave his quarters the night before?
Lord of the Wilderness Page 17
