Patricia Potter (40 page)

Her hand put down the diary and went to his. “How do you feel?”

He managed a twisted smile. “It’s bloody inconvenient being shot by your own side.”

The words sent a wave of distress through Lauren. He’d described what had happened to Larry. The irony was repeated over and over again. She could only nod.

His left hand touched hers. “I keep remembering seeing you … every time I … in my sleep, when I woke. You must be tired.”

She denied it by a shake of her head as her fingers wove in between his. “I was worried about you … so was Socrates. I
do
think he cares.”

“Bloody beast,” Adrian said weakly. “Just worries about his banana supply.” But his eyes went fondly to the monkey, who was now happily grooming himself with supreme indifference.

Adrian tried to sit up, but he fell back. “The doctor said you shouldn’t move for at least five days,” Lauren scolded.

“Five days, hell!” Adrian shifted again, this time bracing himself against pain and weakness. He sat up, his face drained of all color. “I want to leave tomorrow … I can rest later.”

“Adrian!”

But he wore the stubborn look she’d seen before, and he asked a passing man to fetch Captain Kelly, who reluctantly agreed to pass him to the next unit if he felt well enough the next morning.

And he did, at least he said he did, despite the muscle working in his jaw as he was helped on a horse. Lauren also mounted, though she did so with bitterly mixed emotions. She had thought that she would leave him when he was safe, but now he wasn’t safe, he was injured. He needed her.

At least that was what she told herself.

And where would she go? The fact that there was a reward for her told her that Mr. Phillips had no sympathy for what she had done. She could, of course, stay in the South, but she wouldn’t feel comfortable with that either.

She no longer had a country. The thought was terrifying, and filled her with loneliness.

Captain Kelly had assigned them an escort of eight men. They rode until noon, heading toward Fredericksburg, Virginia. From that destination they would go the rest of the way by train: the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad to Richmond, and then a train to Weldon, North Carolina, and, finally, a third train, the Wilmington and Weldon Railroad, to Wilmington.

The journey to Fredericksburg seemed endless to Lauren, who had to watch Adrian’s obvious pain, but he would not stop, and when they rested he was the first to suggest they continue. By the end of the first day, he was swaying in the saddle, his mouth set tightly against the agony she knew he must be feeling.

She changed his bandages that first night, and the skin was bruised and discolored around the still-leaking wound. The stitches had torn loose, and again borrowing some whiskey, which alone seemed in ready supply, she resewed the wound and refused to move the next day. Adrian had to rest the whole day, she declared as stubbornly as he had insisted on moving the previous day.

It was indicative of his weakness that he finally agreed. Their escort did some hunting that night and returned with several rabbits. They were roasted on a spit, and Lauren and Adrian ate the tasty morsels with their fingers as Socrates found his own dinner in the trees. Adrian’s eyes closed early, and much of the escort disappeared into the woods, setting up a cordon around them.

Using the firelight, Lauren took out the diary. She didn’t want to have to think … not about Adrian and his obvious pain, not about her future.

June 20,
1861

A bride of one week, and I’ve already said good-bye to him.
Randall’s
been called to his unit. They say there will be a battle soon. Dear God, I hope not.

My brother came by yesterday to tell me that he and my father are joining Lee’s forces. I am so afraid they and Ran-doll might meet on the field of battle. But I will never regret marrying him. I have loved him all my life, and I know he is doing what he knows he must do, despite his family, despite mine
…

The fields are doing well, the com growing, but there are armies on both sides of us, and I fear we might be caught in the middle. Sam and Lucas are working hard, but they too miss Randall. He has been their
strength
as he is mine. It was he who set them free, and they love him for it.

I know I have to be strong for him. I have to keep the farm going. This land is Randall’s soul. But … God help me … he has been gone only a few days, and I am so lonely … I feel my heart is missing.

The light grew too dim to read by, and Lauren carefully set the diary aside. She used the remaining flickering flames to study Adrian’s face. She didn’t know if she would have completely understood the diary three months ago, but now her heart broke with Melissa Kendall’s.

And she wondered whether she would ever have Melissa’s courage.

Adrian woke painfully the next morning. A sudden movement in his sleep had jolted him to full consciousness as agony streaked through him. It had not been wise to travel as far as they had yesterday, but he had not been able to tolerate staying still.

Lauren. Ridgely. They haunted his thoughts, his dreams. They were both so bloody damned elusive.

As each day went by, he felt further and further away from Ridgely. And from Lauren. In some almost imperceptible way she was withdrawing from him.

They had been so close during their escape, during those hours in the barn, but now the haunted expression had returned to her eyes, and though she nursed him with care and tenderness and stayed with him constantly, she still gave him the impression of a bird poised for flight.

He silently cursed his weakness. Pain he could tolerate. He had done it as a boy, as a young officer. But weakness was something else, something he couldn’t control and therefore resented.

Lauren was not far away—sleeping now, at last. Though he had drifted in and out of consciousness the first two days, every time he woke, she was there. One of their escorts, a young lieutenant, had told him enviously how she couldn’t be lured away from Adrian, no matter how much he and his companions urged her to rest.

Looking at her now, Adrian once more wished he could extract the truth from her. Honesty and loyalty were the two qualities he prized most highly. He knew he had not received honesty from Lauren, but she had certainly displayed loyalty in the past several days—that and much more.

But it wasn’t enough. He knew as he looked at her face, soft and gentle in sleep, that he wanted her by his side forever, fighting with him, sleeping with him, sharing hardships with him. She challenged him, yet made him feel protective at the same time. Never had anyone so stimulated him, so excited him, so touched him.

He sighed and turned over, wincing as he did so, wondering at the turns his life had taken. But soon he would be going home—to England, perhaps even to Ridgely. He might as well make an offer for the estate.

And Lauren would be with him. One way or another, she would be with him.

CHAPTER 23

Fog, thick and heavy, limited Lauren’s sight to a few feet. She couldn’t even see the water below from the crowded deck of the ship, the
Sally
Ann. She could hardly see Adrian, who stood but inches away.

Lights barely flickered through the soup-like shroud that hid the city of Wilmington and the odd collection of other ships, many of which were also beginning to set sail.

Lauren felt a twinge of apprehension. She was sailing into immediate danger … and then into even greater danger.

Unpredictable, unknown seas. Bermuda … and then … She didn’t know.

She looked toward Adrian, who stood stiffly, Socrates, who hadn’t left his side since he was wounded, on his good shoulder. Adrian’s other shoulder was protected by a thick bandage under a new shirt.

Dear God, it had been a long trip, and so terribly painful for Adrian … the endless ride on horseback to Fredericksburg, where they bought new clothes. She had wanted him to rest, but he wouldn’t, and with official military papers they were able to board the first train south. The jerking and jostling over rough railbeds had kept Adrian’s face tense with pain.

Still, he was insistent. There would be a new moon in three days, and most of the blockade runners would be leaving Wilmington in five to six days. They had to reach the port city by then, or else wait weeks before the blockade runners would return.

His determination, however, had cost him bitterly, and it had cost her in watching him. Twice, the train had stopped suddenly, and Adrian had been thrown against the side of the coach. Twice, she’d had to resew his wound, the shoulder red and sore and the area around it black and purple from bruising. It had been a nightmare journey of stifling heat and overcrowded train coaches for four days.

Even when they reached Wilmington, Adrian didn’t rest, first visiting a bank, then the hotels frequented by the captains of the blockade runners. He found another Englishman, an acquaintance, who agreed to take them to Bermuda, where they could catch a clipper to England. The runners, built for speed, seldom made the long run to England and back themselves; they were designed for the quick sprint back and forth from Nassau and Bermuda to the American East Coast. This particular runner would leave the morning after next, after the cargo was loaded.

When Adrian had returned to the hotel where he’d engaged separate rooms for them, he’d been ill and exhausted, and she’d discovered that she was not with child as she had foolishly hoped.

They’d dined together almost silently, although their gazes often caught and held with longing, with questions, with quiet fire. He was still not well, and since the runners carried no doctors, Lauren had decided to go with him to Bermuda, to nurse him.

That was enough for both of them. For the moment.

After dinner she had helped him undress, and then sat by him as he fell asleep. She stayed most of the night, just watching the way the thick lashes masked the dark blue eyes, the way his mouth gentled and the harsh lines of pain relaxed. She loved him so very much. If only she could do something to repair the damage she had done. Then, perhaps, they would have a chance …

But that was a ridiculous thought, an impossible dream, and she knew she must dismiss it from her mind. She looked over at Socrates, now sleeping peacefully on a blanket in the corner of the room after a very expensive dinner of fresh fruit.

She continued to watch, storing memories in her mind, until the wee hours in the morning. She wanted to slip into the bed with Adrian, but she feared hurting his shoulder further, and then she had her own indisposition. Reluctantly, she had finally gone to her own room, and the lonely bed within it.

And now they were to run the blockade again. As she had in Nassau, she wondered how the ships managed to avoid each other in the dark and fog, although they could still use lights here in the harbor. Once they were out in the Cape Fear River, once they were beyond the protection of Fort Fisher, the real risks, the danger, began.

Lauren instinctively moved closer to Adrian as the Salty Ann moved slowly from its moorings. She felt the warmth of his breath and smelled the clean scent of soap and bay rum. He had been to the barber this afternoon, and the bristles that had sprouted since a barbering in Fredericksburg were gone, taking with them the air of freebooter they had given him. It would still be days, she knew, before he could use his arm to shave again, perhaps even weeks.

She shivered with longing as she felt his good arm go around her. She leaned back against him, careful not to touch his bad shoulder but wanting the contact of his body. They would have three days till they reached Bermuda, maybe less.

“Do you want to be there … at the wheel?” she asked, indicating where the captain and pilot stood. The captain’s name was Maximilian Abbot, she remembered.

“A little, perhaps,” he said. “It seems strange not to be in control.”

The ship shuddered slightly as the speed of the engines increased, and then they were sliding out of the crowded harbor, making for the Cape Fear River. Lauren leaned closer to Adrian as the
Sally Ann
moved down the river, past Fort Lee, Fort Campbell, and Fort Meares, which guarded the river, and then Fort Anderson. The guns from Fort Fisher would protect them on their final spurt through New Inlet and out into the open sea. Then they were on their own, and speed and luck would be their main defenses.

Just as they passed under the guns of Fort Fisher, all the lights on the ship were quenched, and even the soft whispers, born of tension, were stilled. Only the echo of the sounders could be heard, the soft drone of engines, the splash of paddle wheels against the water.

Lauren knew several ships had left earlier than they, and there would be a trail of them behind, just as there had been a parade in Nassau. From a distance, she heard the whine of shells, and through the fog she saw the diffused glow of an explosive.

“Why don’t you go below?” Adrian said.

She shook her head, knowing that he would not, and she wanted to stay with him. She wanted to experience everything with him, every moment, every fear.