Enchantress (30 page)

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 take 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.

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 asked 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.

At the moment of surrender, Thorn quaked with the power of gratification, while Brittany’s body answered his burning desire. A soft groan was torn from Brittany’s throat as Thorn fired her desire and then satisfied her needs.

Their bodies cooled and their heartbeats slowed as the shadows of night crept across the cottage.

A cool breeze stirred the curtains at the window while the two lovers nestled together.

After wandering for so long and living in fear, Brittany was afraid to trust Thorn. With him she felt safe, and for the moment cherished, but was this all an illusion that would disappear with the morning sun?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Thorn told her, still clasping her to him. “But when I am near you, all I can think of is the pleasure I find with you.”

She raised her head to look at him, feeling warmed by his admission. “Thorn, I will always want you to find pleasure with me.”

With a disturbed expression, he looked into her eyes. “I want to take care of you and make you feel safe. I thought I owed you that much. My intentions were good”—he smiled—“but my flesh is weak.”

“Why do I detect a note of apology in you, Thorn?”

“Because I
am
apologizing. This should never have happened between us at this time. So many things stand in our way. I owe you—”

Her breath came out in a hiss, and she moved away from him. “You owe me nothing, Thorn. It was I who thrust myself upon you when I came on board your ship. If anyone is indebted, it has to be me.”

His expression was sorrowful. “I have hurt you again, and that was not my intention, Brittany. I have problems in my life, and I do not want to make you a part of them. Although I am not certain I can keep you from being pulled in to them, I am sure as hell going to try.”

“I do not understand.”

“I prefer not to go into what occurred in Washington. But suffice it to say that you might still be in danger from the Turks. I feel it is best if few people know you are at Stoddard Hill.”

“Thorn, it would not surprise me if your government wants to turn me over to the Turkish government—which is, of course, Sultan Selim. Is that what happened?”

He was amazed at her quick mind, but he thought it best not to alarm her. “The Turkish government does not dictate to Washington.”

She sat up with a perplexed expression on her face. “Why do you speak in riddles and tell me nothing, Thorn? I should think you know by now that I will not swoon at the first sight of danger.”

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “If you insist on knowing, I was asked to send you back to Turkey.”

“Yet you have decided not to?”

“Of course I won’t. You are my wife. I anticipated that something just like this might happen, which is one of the reasons I married you. Even the United States government cannot make a man give up his own wife to another government.”

She moved off the bed and pulled her gown over her head. “So that is the real reason you married me?”

“That and others.”

“It seems that once again you are caught up in the intrigue that surrounds me, Thorn. You have troubles of your own, and did not need the added burden of my difficulties.”

He smiled at her. “Even before we met, I was drawn into your difficulties. If you will recall, I had not laid eyes on you when the Turkish Navy let loose their volley.”

Her eyes held a haunted expression. “So you married me to keep me from falling into the hands of the sultan. Is that why, Thorn?”

He sat on the side of the bed and pulled on his trousers. “Why did you accept me as your husband?” he said, answering her question with a question of his own.

She shook her head, her eyes sad. “Perhaps we were both a bit hasty in deciding to be married. If I had asked my father’s family, I feel certain they would have intervened with the government, and I could have remained in this country under their protection.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But if I were faced with the same choice, I would act no differently. There was no time to do otherwise.”

“I have given you nothing, Thorn, while you have sacrificed your bachelorhood for me.”

The blue of his eyes deepened. “It has been my pleasure to know you, Brittany Stoddard. Whatever the reason, and whatever the outcome, your life and mine have become intertwined.”

Proudly, she raised her head and forced a smile. “I am certain it has been no pleasure for you to be at odds with your government because of me.”

His eyes swept across her face. “There have been compensations.”

Sadness weighed heavily on her heart. Thorn had married her for all the wrong reasons. Each day, she depended on him more and more. If this was love, why did it have to hurt so much? she wondered. Why did his casual manner tear at her heart?

She turned away from him, fearing he would read the hurt in her eyes. “Being your wife is one of the hardest things I have been called upon to do. Given the choice, I am not sure I would agree to marry you again.”

He came up behind her, but did not touch her. “I know that life here at Stoddard Hill cannot be pleasant for you. I am aware of Wilhelmina’s vindictiveness toward you. And, since my father’s illness, the plantation has fallen on hard times. The kitchens are unorganized, and the fields have not been cultivated. Was it a mistake for me to drag you into my troubles?”

She turned around, glancing up at him with rounded eyes. “I know that Stoddard Hill will one day bloom again, and I do not really mind your stepmother’s viciousness, but I have been troubled by some of her insinuations.”

His eyes became veiled. “Such as?”

“I…she has implied that she was the cause of your leaving Stoddard Hill in the first place.”

He glanced past her, to the garden beyond the window. “In that, she spoke the truth.”

Brittany lowered her eyes, unwilling to believe that Thorn would covet his father’s wife. “She also hinted that you and she had been…lovers.” She raised her eyes to his, feeling sick inside that she should question Thorn’s honor.

“If Wilhelmina were speaking the truth, Brittany, what would be your feelings be toward me?”

“If it is true, I will be very disappointed in you, Thorn, and you will not be the man I thought you were.”

His nostrils flared. “What did Wilhelmina say to you?”

She lowered her head. “It is of no importance.”

Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “I say it is important to you.”

Her gaze flickered. “I do not want to talk about Wilhelmina.”

He sighed wearily and took her hand, leading her to the bed. When he sat her down, he pulled up a chair and sat opposite her.

“What I am about to tell you, I have never told anyone else. I find the whole incident distasteful, but I can see I owe you the truth.”

She shook her head vigorously, ashamed that she had lowered herself to pry into matters that had happened to Thorn before she came into his life. “You do not owe me anything, Thorn. Keep your counsel, and I will keep mine.”

He gave her a half-smile. “Are you keeping secrets from me?”

She met his eyes without flinching. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

He stared at her long and hard before he spoke. “Nonetheless, I will tell you this: The reason I left Stoddard Hill was because my father thought I had seduced his wife.”

Brittany’s face whitened as she waited for Thorn to deny that he had been a party to such an atrocity. “Surely you would never betray your father,” she cried out.

He took her hand and studied it. “What matters is that my father believed it, so he ordered me to leave Stoddard Hill.”

She hated herself for asking, but she had to know. “You were never her lover, were you?”

He took a steady breath. “You asked for the truth, and it is not easy to tell.” He griped Brittany’s shoulders, wishing he knew the words that would make her understand. “Yes, I was once her lover.”

Brittany’s heart shattered, and an unwelcome tear trailed down her cheek. “I would not have thought she was…that Wilhelmina was the kind of woman who would attract you.” She pushed his hands away, not wanting him to touch her. “I am not a very good judge of character, am I?”