Forever My Love (Historical Romance) (33 page)

Damon's lips clung to hers hungrily, and she found herself lying on the cool grass with him hovering above her. She pulled him forward and offered him her lips, an offer he did not refuse.

***

Ezekiel, being a romantic, had gathered up all the candles he could find and set them around so the lodge was aglow for the wedding ceremony.

Royal stood beside Damon, her eyes shining, while Reverend Camdon recited the beautiful words that made her Damon's wife. She was puzzled when she sensed a tenseness about Damon. He repeated the marriage vows in a stiff, clipped voice. She wanted him to look at her, but for some reason he avoided her eyes.

All too soon the ceremony was over, and Royal was dazed when Reverend Camdon shook her hand.

"I wish you happiness, Mrs. Routhland."

"Thank you," she murmured as Damon coolly accepted the minister's good wishes.

Ezekiel wrung Damon's hand. "She's the best thing that's ever
happened to ya. I hope you see that afore it's too late."

"You had better get started if you are going to get the reverend home," Damon reminded him.

"I'm going, but I'll leave ya with this thought—the best of a man is a good wife, and the worst of him is if he prizes her too lightly."

Damon picked up the old man's hat and shoved it at him. "The reverend is waiting. You be back by tomorrow."

Ezekiel moved to stand before Royal, and a smile curved her lips. "You're gonna know great happiness, Miss Royal. If n I was you, I'd make this a marriage," he whispered. "And don't wait too long."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I will, Ezekiel." He looked pleased that she had called him by his first name, and he decided to do the same.

"'Night, Royal." He moved to the door. "Let's go, Reverend, it'll be midnight now afore we get you home."

When Damon and Royal were alone, she went into his outstretched arms. "Well, that's done," she said, smiling. "You can't get away from me now." Her eyes took on a serious light. "I truly belong to someone now, Damon."

He hugged her tightly. "You belong to me."

Suddenly his gaze was sorrowful as he looked at her tattered gown. "I'm sorry this was such a shabby affair for you."

"That's not important to me."

He felt light-hearted. "You are an exceptional woman, did you know that?"

She tossed her head and pretended seriousness. "What else would you expect from Mrs. Damon Routhland of Swanhouse Plantation?"

He was aware that she grew soft in his arms. How little it took for her to pull him into the prison of her silken web, he thought. Like a man with no will of his own, he covered her lips with his.

33

Royal awoke and reached out to discover Damon was not with her. Smelling the strong aroma of coffee, she slipped out of bed and pulled on the wrinkled gown.

She was Damon's wife! Her hand moved to her stomach, and she remembered with awe how he had held her in his arms and taken her from the world of a girl into the world of a woman.

***

Damon poked his shirt into his trousers and dismissed the cup of coffee Ezekiel held out to him. "For a new bridegroom, you're up awful early this mornin', ain't ya, Damon?"

"I have to rejoin my unit as soon as possible."

The old man stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'd 'a been hard-pressed to leave a wife like Royal if I's you."

"I'm able to leave her because she'll be safe at Swanhouse. You know I have no choice in the matter. I will give you a letter to take to John instructing him to watch out for Murdock."

"I'll kinda keep my eye on her."

"I am depending on that. I'll just take your mount, Ezekiel, and you can take Royal to Swanhouse for me. She is asleep, so I'm not going to wake her."

"She won't like it none when she wakes up and finds you gone."

"You will explain to her that I had to leave."

"I'd rather you did."

Royal chose that moment to open the bedroom door. Neither man knew that she could hear their exchange.

Damon looked at his friend, his mind troubled. "I don't know where to place a wife in my life, Ezekiel. Royal would have been better off with the Englishman."

"You might have thought of that before last night."

"What choice had I? If I hadn't married her, I would not have been able to take her to Swanhouse where Murdock can't get his hands on her."

Royal felt her heart shatter, and she softly closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Her eyes were wild with grief at what she had heard. Damon had not wanted to marry her. He had felt it was his duty.

Blinded by tears, she sat on the edge of the bed, knowing she could not face him just yet. Although he had not said he loved her, she had supposed he felt the same way she did.

She heard the outer door open, and a short time later a horse rode away. Royal knew without being told that Damon had left without telling her good-bye, and, oh, it did hurt so deeply!

Wiping her tears away, she opened the door to the outer room. With her chin held high and a proud tilt to her head, she moved out of the bedroom. Her eyes fell on Ezekiel, who was bending over the open hearth, poking at the embers.

"Mornin', Royal." He grinned. "Most likely you'd like coffee. I'll get it for you."

"Damon's gone, isn't he, Ezekiel?"

The old man's eyes were sympathetic. "Said ta tell you he's gone back to his unit. Said I was to take you to Swanhouse."

"I would rather go to Savannah. Will you take me home?"

He studied her closely. "Now, I can't rightly do that, seeing as how Damon told me to take you to Swanhouse. If n I was you, I'd do what he says. You can't be too careful with Murdock lurkin' about."

"I'll go to Swanhouse for now," she said with a resigned sigh. "But I will only stay until Murdock is no longer a threat."

"That's a good girl."

"I know you admire Damon. Ezekiel, will you help me understand him?" It was almost a plea.

"The way I see it, there ain't much to understand 'bout him. He's honorable, upright, and he's doin' what he thinks is best for you. Sometimes he slips in his judgment, but the best thing he's ever done is marry you."

She smiled at the dear little man. "Thank you for that, but I'm not certain he would agree." She didn't tell him she had overheard Damon when he'd admitted his reason for marrying her.

"You best eat, and then we'll be off. I want to get you settled in afore I take to the swamps."

"Are you going to join Damon?"

"No, I'm gonna keep an eye on Murdock. Me and Damon figure it's best to know where he's at all the time."

"Can you tell me where Damon has gone?"

"Nope. Don't know. He keeps his private business to hisself."

She accepted the cup of coffee Ezekiel offered her and took a sip, then wrinkled her nose.

He grinned down at her. "I'm accused of brewing coffee so strong it'll stand alone."

She took another sip and gulped. "Your accusers are right."

While Ezekiel loaded the boat, Royal moved about the room where she had been so happy. Last night she had become a wife... today she was alone again.

***

The trip down the Canoochee River to Swanhouse Plantation went without incident. Ezekiel helped Royal up the sloping lawn to the plantation house, where she found, to her surprise, that they were expected.

John Bartholomew stood stiffly at the bottom of the steps, his formal mask in place. If he found her rumpled appearance strange, he was too well trained to show it. "Welcome, Mrs. Routhland," he said. His voice sounded devoid of feeling, but the pleasure he felt at having her as mistress of Swanhouse could be measured in the light of his eyes.

"I am proud to welcome you, and I believe I speak for us all when I say we are glad your ordeal is over at last."

She gave him her hand and allowed him to assist her up the last three steps. "Thank you, John." She looked around at the faces of the slaves and servants—they were strangers to her, but she could see the welcome in their smiles.

"John, can I assume my housekeeper and her husband have been informed that I will be residing at Swanhouse?"

"Indeed, yes, madam. Mr. Routhland wrote them in his own hand, and I had the letter delivered this morning."

Ezekiel looked somehow sad as he clutched his cap in his fingers. "I'll be going now, Royal. If n you want anything, John'll know where to find me."

Ezekiel was a crusty, kind-hearted character, Royal thought, and she was going to miss him. "Visit when you can, Ezekiel."

His eyes lit up with pleasure. "I'll do that, Royal." He stumbled backward, looked apologetic, and lumbered off toward the boat.

"Ezekiel, have a care!" she called after him. "Don't take any unnecessary chances with Murdock."

"I won't," he called out.

He hopped into the boat with the agility of a much younger man, raised his hand to her, and paddled upstream.

She turned to John. "If you will be so kind as to show me to my room, I will require a bath." She was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't suppose there are any gowns that I could wear until mine arrive from Savannah?"

"Your trunks have already arrived, and I had the upstairs maid unpack for you, madam."

"I should have known," she said, comforted by his thoroughness. "You always did think of everything, John."

If he was pleased by her compliment, it did not show in his expression. "If you will follow me, I will show you to your room."

Royal could not know that John had insisted on seeing her settled in because he was the one person at Swanhouse who was familiar to her. She also did not know that there were seven guards who would watch the house day and night so Vincent Murdock could not get to her.

Royal climbed the stairs beside John, feeling like an intruder in Damon's house. It didn't matter—she had already decided she would stay only until Murdock was captured; then she would leave.

John paused before a wide double door. "I have put you in the master suite, madam."

"My needs are not so grand, John. I would much prefer a guest bedroom."

He stared at her for a long moment, understanding her reasons better than she thought. "Very good, madam. I will put you at the end of the hallway."

***

Christmas had come and gone, and Royal waited for some word from Damon, but none came. An unusual calm hung over Swanhouse—a calm that Royal knew could be interrupted at any moment by the war that raged about them.

There were reports that General Washington's troops were mutinous and had deserted in large numbers. They had not been paid, and they grew weary of fighting a war that seemed to favor the superior British forces. The British controlled the seas, and most of the South was under their rule.

The house in Savannah had been boarded up, and Alba and Tobias had been installed at Swanhouse Plantation. In no time at all the forceful Alba was running the house and everyone in it. John Bartholomew seemed amiable to the arrangement. Royal suspected he was glad to be rid of that responsibility. Tobias had fallen naturally into overseeing the gardens and grounds and was content to spend most of his days outdoors.

Everyone but Royal seemed to know his place—she had yet to learn where she belonged.

***

It was a particularly cold day when Tobias rushed in from the stables calling for Royal. She came out onto the back veranda and watched him, his eyes dancing with delight, his breath coming out in frosty puffs.

"What it, Tobias?" she asked, smiling at his enthusiasm.

"You will never guess, Miss Royal—the most wonderful thing has happened."

Alba came out the door wiping her hands on her apron, looking at her husband as if he had lost his mind. "Tobias, just tell us what's so wonderful," she insisted.

"Two men just delivered a horse to the stables. They say the animal was sent all the way from England."

Royal put her hand to her throat. "Enchantress," she gasped. "Enchantress is here?"

"Yes, madam." He held out a letter to her. "I was told to deliver this into your hands."

She took the letter and saw Alissa's dear, familiar handwriting. It made her feel ashamed that she had neglected to write her friend. Opening the letter, she read:

My Dearest Friend,

              Neither time nor tide stand still, nor do our lives. Holden and I are married, and I am deliriously happy. To add to my happiness is the news that you were successful in procuring Preston's release. My mother and I were astounded to learn of Damon Routhland's heroic rescue of Preston. We will be eternally grateful to him. We are sending Enchantress to you, knowing how much you love her. That's the least we can do for you after all you have done for this family. I miss you, dear friend, and want to see you back in England soon. Perhaps I am giving away secrets, but I know Preston plans to bring you home with him, and it is with my mother's consent.

Royal folded the letter and slipped it into her pocket. So the dowager duchess had decided that she was worthy of her son after all. She smiled sadly, thinking how much that would have meant to her at one time. Now it was too late for her to think of a life with Preston.

She moved down the steps toward the stable, while a puzzled Tobias stared after her. "I thought she'd be happy about the mare. She didn't seem happy to me."

"Hush," Alba said, her shrewd eyes seeing more than her husband's. "I swear you men don't know anything."

Tobias scratched his head, willing to admit his wife was right, at least about him. "I guess it's the war," he concluded. "Having to abandon her home and all."

"Tobias," Alba said impatiently, "haven't you noticed that Miss Royal has put on weight?"

"No, don't say as I have."

Alba poked a stray hair back into her white cap. "She's with child. She's going to have Mr. Routhland's baby."

"W-When?"

"In about four months, I'd judge."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," Alba replied, her mind troubled as she watched Royal disappear into the stable, "she hasn't told me yet."

She took Tobias by the shoulder and pointed him toward the house. "You best look in on Mr. Bartholomew. He's got a fever, and the poor man isn't able to get out of bed."

***

The clock had just struck seven when Alba came to Royal in the solarium. "Will you be wanting your supper in here, Miss Royal?"

"I'm not hungry, Alba."

The housekeeper stared down at Royal with the same determined light she had used when Royal had been an unruly child. "You need to eat. I'll just have Tobias bring the tray in here."

"I say I'm not hungry," she insisted.

"Nevertheless, in your condition, you need to eat."

Silence ensued as Royal stared into Alba's eyes. At last Royal asked, "How long have you known about the baby?"

"Most probably longer than you have."

She reached out and clutched the housekeeper's hand. "You must tell no one." There was desperation in her eyes. "Swear you will keep my secret."

"I already told my suspicions to Tobias," Alba admitted.

"Then swear him to secrecy. Promise me you will."

"Mr. Routhland should only hear about the baby from you. However, I'm certain Mr. Bartholomew could get a message to him on something this important."

Royal was thoughtful for a moment. "I will tell Damon myself when the time is right. Speaking of John," she said, changing the subject, "how is he today?"

"His fever is still high, and his chest hurts. I put a poultice on him and steamed his room. I don't know what else to do. The poor man is beside himself because he keeps complaining that he needs to make an entry in his log. Something about selling several horses."