Savage Deception (Liberty's Ladies)

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without the written permission of publisher or author, except where permitted by law.

Cover Art by Amanda Kelsey of
Razzle Dazzle Design
.

Copyright ©
1989 and 2012
by
Lynette Vinet

First Kensington Zebra (Heartfire) Edition: 1989

First Steel Magnolia Press Publication: 2013

Author’s Note

The American victory at Eutaw Springs and the subsequent British withdrawal of troops from Charlestown (Charleston, South Carolina) occurred in 1782. But for plot purposes, I’ve moved the date up one year. Please excuse my tampering with history.

1

Briarhaven Plantation

South Carolina, 1773

She felt him watching her again.

Diana Montaigne, however, pretended an indifference she didn’t feel whenever the man’s black-eyed gaze swept over her, more disturbing than a hurricane. She’d been aware of the man ever since she had arrived at Briarhaven some days ago. Much too aware of him, she silently chastised herself, for an engaged young lady. But she found it hard not to notice this particular man. As he stood shirtless in the summer heat, Diana took stock of his broad shoulders and chest, bronzed from endless hours in the sweltering sun. Hair, the color of a moonless night, hung in shaggy strands past his collarbone and emphasized his face, which was possessed of high cheekbones and sensual, well-formed lips that no doubt had enjoyed many a female’s kiss in the past.

A strange shiver, part excitement and part fear, rushed through her when she imagined how it would feel to be kissed by such a man. How would his lips feel? Would they be hard and cold or soft and moist? It was an absurd and wicked thought, but one Diana couldn’t block from her mind.

Not that she’d been kissed all that often by gentlemen. Except for her late father, her sister’s husband’s brotherly peck upon her cheek, and the indulgent and friendly kiss upon her forehead by her soon to be father-in-law, she had never been properly kissed. Her fiancé, Kingsley Sheridan, had lightly touched her hand with his lips, but she didn’t count that as a real kiss. Anne, her married sister, had told her how wonderful a kiss could feel when the man doing the kissing was the man one loved. She’d told Diana that a melting warmth suffused one’s body and one’s stomach fluttered like thousands of butterfly wings. “Sounds like a stomach upset,” Diana had wryly commented, not quite certain she would care to be kissed.

“Oh, you’ll like it a great deal,” Anne had promised with a wink, shortly after she and David had approved Kingsley’s courting of Diana.

Diana, who loved and trusted Anne, the elder by three years, decided that if Anne liked being kissed then she would too. Since she and Anne liked the same things, she trusted Anne’s judgment. In fact, Diana decided that she must like it. Kingsley was always so solicitous of her, and any man who sent such lovely flowers and notes proclaiming undying devotion deserved kissing. Still, she wasn’t overly thrilled when she agreed to marry Kingsley, doing so only out of a sense of loyalty to Anne and David, who both approved wholeheartedly of Kingsley. Kingsley was heir to Briarhaven, a fertile rice plantation along the Santee River, and he was handsome, one of the most handsome young men in South Carolina; Anne reminded Diana of that fact whenever she vacillated in accepting his proposal.

Indeed, Kingsley was handsome. He had light brown hair and eyes, but Diana thought his eyes held little warmth, despite his beautiful protestations of love. However, it wasn’t his looks or wealth that eventually swayed her. She agreed to marry him because she felt herself to be a burden on Anne and David, knowing she couldn’t live with them in Charlestown forever. Diana’s father had died when she was only fourteen, shortly after Anne and David had married. Since their mother had died four years earlier, it was left to Anne to take on the responsibility of providing a home for Diana, which she lovingly did. Now Diana was seventeen, and she felt it was time she left her sister’s home. Especially now that Anne was pregnant, Diana didn’t want to be underfoot any longer.

So here she sat in the open carriage with her parasol unfurled to block the bright, hot sun of a Santee River afternoon from her fair skin. Kingsley sat beside her, the perfect gentleman in his gray frock coat despite the scorching heat.

Soon he would claim her as his wife; so why did she stare in fascination at an ebony-haired man with a whip in his hand, a man clad only in brown breeches and knee-high boots, a man whose every movement caused the muscles in his back and upper arms to ripple like strong ocean currents? Standing on a bank that gently sloped into the short but dense thickets of fragrant rice fields, he appeared formidable and all powerful as he oversaw the slaves at their toil. Yet somehow she sensed he would never use the whip or be unreasonably cruel. Still, Diana shivered again as his gaze, black and knowing, met hers. A queer feeling clutched at her stomach and she wondered if he somehow had read her thoughts and knew that she had fantasized about kissing him. Her face burned with the knowledge.

Purposely turning her attention to Kingsley, she smiled at him. “Briarhaven appears to be efficiently run.”

Kingsley nodded, accepting her compliment as his due. “Yes, Father will have it no other way. The slaves for the most part are well behaved. Sometimes we have a bit of trouble and a wayward one
should
be whipped to within an inch of his life, but our overseer doesn’t believe in whipping.” His mouth curled into a sneer, and he inclined his head in the direction of the bronzed giant on the bank. “Tanner is rather soft on them. I constantly advise Father that Tanner should be dismissed, but he won’t hear of it.”

Tanner. So that was his name. Diana thought it suited him.

“Your father must believe that this Tanner is doing a good job,” Diana noted, aware when Tanner stopped looking at her. She felt vaguely disappointed as she brushed aside a dark brown curl that had escaped from the long braid hanging to her waist. Perspiration trickled between her breasts, demurely concealed by the high-necked bodice of the pink, calico gown she wore.

“It’s not that,” Kingsley said much too harshly. “Tanner lives near the river with his squaw mother and can’t be let go because he…”

“He what?”

“Nothing, my dear. There’s no need to concern your pretty head with plantation and family affairs.”

“But I’m going to be part of your family in a week’s time, Kingsley,” Diana reminded him.

Kingsley smiled at her like an indulgent parent. “Yes, you are, and you should acquaint yourself with the house and the house slaves and prepare for our wedding. Now, when are Anne and David arriving from Charlestown?”

“Five days from now,” Diana said, perfectly aware that he was turning the subject away from Tanner.

“Ah, very nice. They shall be here for our engagement ball.”

“Why must we have an engagement ball so soon before our wedding? Aren’t we going to celebrate our marriage with a ball?”

Kingsley took Diana’s chin in his hand and stroked her flushed cheek with the tips of his fingers. The warmth she had thought lacking in his eyes was now there, but it wasn’t a warmth she found comforting because something else had leaped into the brown depths of his gaze, something she couldn’t fathom. “I’ve decided that the grand celebration before the wedding would be better. All of our guests will arrive early and stay for the ball and the wedding. After our wedding ceremony we shall be toasted, then we’ll retire to our room and everyone will leave. With all of the festivities out of the way, I can concentrate fully on my beautiful bride.”

His voice sounded husky and thick, a tone Kingsley had never used before now. To her surprise, his face inched closer, and before she realized what was happening he had positioned his mouth upon hers, seeming to draw the breath from her body. She felt the urge to pull away but thought better of it. Kingsley was going to be her husband. He had the right to kiss her. Wasn’t this what she had wondered about for so long? Now that it was actually happening to her, she felt unprepared and rather ill. Her stomach didn’t feel fluttery at all but quite upset, as if she had been on a ship for too long and was seasick. What was wrong with her? Anne had promised that she’d enjoy it.

Kingsley held her tightly against him with eyes closed, but hers were wide open and darting nervously from side to side until her gaze came to rest upon the dark visage of Tanner, the overseer. He was shaking his head, scowling at her as if she were committing some sort of injustice against him. Even at this distance she saw the veins in his neck jut out and his hand tighten convulsively on the whip, almost as if he’d have taken great delight in flailing her.

The pressure of Kingsley’s mouth increased, but she had ceased to feel it. Once more, she was very much aware of this other man. For some insane reason she felt that she was being unfaithful to
him
by allowing Kingsley’s kiss.

It seemed they stared at one another for ages. She didn’t know how long this would have continued, or when Kingsley would have stopped kissing her, if it hadn’t been for the high, terrified shriek that cut knifelike from across the rice field.

“What the devil?” Kingsley muttered irritably and broke away from her to glance in the direction of the sound.

It was a slave woman. She ran screaming through the short stubble of rice like the devil was behind her, arms outstretched in Tanner’s direction. The other slaves quit working, their scythes held in midair, and they stared in mute fascination at her until one slave woman broke the spell and pointed in horror at the fleeing woman.

“Oh, Lordy, have mercy!” the pointing slave screamed to the others. “Tilly’s dead for sure!”

“She gonna die!” another one hollered. “Ain’t no help for her now.”

“What are they talking about?” Diana asked Kingsley in bafflement. She received an answer when the running woman came closer, hobbling now with the effort of her movements through the dense stubble. “Good God!” Diana jumped up in the carriage with Kingsley beside her. She couldn’t believe her own eyes. If she thought a devil was chasing the woman, she was nearly right. The devil in this instance was a large cottonmouth moccasin with fangs embedded in the heel of the woman’s foot. The snake’s tail was wrapped around her ankle like a fat, shiny black bracelet, and it didn’t seem likely to break its hold.

“Kingsley, help her. Do something,” Diana pleaded.

“What should I do? Run over there and yank the blasted serpent from her foot? She’s as good as dead now. And Tilly was an expensive slave at that.”

Diana couldn’t believe that at such a time Kingsley was bemoaning the cost of a slave. She felt such pity for the woman that she made a movement to leave the carriage, but Kingsley placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Tanner will handle this.”

And Tanner did. No sooner had the woman fallen before his feet than he jumped from the bank, pulling a large knife from a sheath on his belt loop, totally unaware of the slaves who milled about and cried openly for the unfortunate Tilly. Diana watched him take the knife and grab the snake’s tail, slowly unwinding it from Tilly’s leg until it was stretched out straight. Then he swiftly cut the body from the head.

“Six feet long if I ever saw one,” Kingsley commented in awe.

Tilly’s sobs were audible. “I’m gonna die, Mr. Tanner. I’m gonna die. That old snake devil got all his poison in me.”

“No, you’re not going to die.” Diana heard Tanner’s deep, rich voice for the first time. She was amazed at how calm he sounded as he worked the fangs, which dripped yellow with venom, from Tilly’s heel. Finally he threw the head with fangs intact on the ground, next to the still writhing body.

“How is Tilly?” Kingsley shouted to Tanner.

Tanner stood up. All of the slaves, even Tilly, grew quiet in their awe of him.

“Tilly will be fine,” he assured Kingsley, and took a few steps closer to the carriage. Sweat beaded his brow and his chest glistened like copper in the afternoon sun. “The poison didn’t get into her body because she has a thick cushion of skin on her feet. Guess Tilly stepped on the snake.”

“Well, send her back to work. We need every slave now.”

“Kingsley, how can you suggest Tilly return to work after such an ordeal?” Diana demanded, horrified by Kingsley’s disregard for the woman’s health.

“She’s perfectly all right, Diana. Tanner said so.”

“Still it wouldn’t hurt to be kind.” Diana flounced in her seat and shot Kingsley a look of pure disdain.

Kingsley heaved a conceding sigh. “Do whatever is best for Tilly, but don’t baby her for too long. All the slaves will expect preferential treatment if they so much as stub a toe. You’re much too soft on these people, Tanner.”

“Yes, well, I think they work better when they’re not abused.”

“That’s debatable.”

Kingsley motioned for Jim, a house slave and their driver, to be off. When the carriage started forward, Diana cast what she thought was a secretive sidelong glance in Tanner’s direction, somehow aching to get one last look at him, finding him unaccountably brave and handsome. Her eyes widened to find him grinning at her, almost as if he had expected her to sneak another peek. Certainly this Tanner fellow wasn’t a gentleman.