The Patriot's Conquest (17 page)

Surely something must exist here! Crossing over to the narrow bed, her shoe came into contact with a heavy, solid object. Amanda uttered a small cry of pain. She bent down.

Shoved carelessly under the bed was a small wood chest. The same one that had been in his bedroom at Meg’s house. Excited, she knelt and pulled it out.

The chest had a lock, but it was broken. Amanda lifted the lid.

Papers were neatly stacked inside. She scanned one. Surely this would suffice Lord Dunmore’s request—a letter from Patrick Henry to Samuel Adams in Boston. Amanda shut the trunk lid and shoved the chest back. She sat on the bed. In the note Henry advised Mr. Adams he agreed with Jeffrey’s advice on retaliation for the magazine raid. Patrick would march against Lord Dunmore and demand retribution for the gunpowder. Men would clamor to take up arms to defend themselves, breaking the long apathy nestling among Virginia’s planters. Then Virginia would join Boston in rebellion against the Crown.

Victory and dismay surged through her. Jeffrey was heavily involved in treasonous activities. If Dunmore found out, it spelled trouble for Jeffrey as well as his friend.

Should she take this letter as evidence? How could she betray him? Yet her family’s welfare hung in the balance. Amanda shuddered, feeling like a juggler balancing two burning balls, trying desperately but unsuccessfully to keep both in the air.

Footsteps sounded upon the stairwell. Amanda’s breath eased out in ragged pants as she searched for a place to hide. Seeing none, she backed against the wall, tucking the letter into her bodice. Her hands shook a little. Please, let it be a serving maid or a man to clean another room, she silently prayed.

The door swung open with such a violent bang she jumped. Jeffrey stood on the threshold, his dark eyes glinting with diabolical light.

So much for prayers to the good Lord.

“Amanda, my dear, what are you doing in my room?”

“
J
EFFREY
!” A
MANDA STRUGGLED
for composure. “What a surprise. I was near the Raleigh and thought to stop by.”

“In my room? While I am not here?” He crossed those powerful arms and leaned a broad shoulder against the door.

She swallowed. “I must confess a female curiosity to see how you lived apart from the farm.” Deliberately, she let her gaze rest on the rumpled clothes. “Indeed, my curiosity has been satisfied. I beg your leave now.”

His gray gaze missed nothing. “Not until you hand over what you have taken. What are you hiding, Amanda?”

“Hiding? You are much mistaken, for I have nothing to hide.” Amanda smiled coyly and held out her hands.

She sucked in her breath as he fell to his knees and withdrew the chest. He combed through the papers. Fury ignited his gray gaze as he stood.

“I knew I should have made the time to fix that lock. Return Patrick’s letter. Or I will search every inch of your lovely body.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she breathed.

“I would.”

Oh dear. Was that a tip of paper peeping out just above the lace of her bodice? Jeffrey glanced at her, his mouth a narrow slash.

“Hand it over, Amanda. Now or I will retrieve it myself.”

“I have no idea what you reference.”

Without waiting for an answer, he plunged his hand into the crevice of her lacy bodice. Jeffrey groped her breasts intimately yet with a total blank look. His touch sent tingles up her spine while it damned her to exposure. Paper crinkled as he withdrew the letter. Tears of frustration filled her eyes.

He waved the letter in her face like a flag then stuck it into his pocket. “Do you always dress with personal correspondence tucked into your bodice?”

She glared at him. “What of it? You have it. I must leave now.”

“You are spying on me. For who? Your cousin?” Jeffrey’s face darkened with anger.

“I am curious. Is that a crime?”

“Amanda my dear, you must learn to be a more effective spy. Learn first to trust the servants you hire to let into a man’s room.”

Her jaw dropped. “But I was assured that Moses...”

“’Twas not Moses,” Jeffrey drawled. “But Joseph. Next time ask the name. Don’t assume there is only one bespectacled servant. Joseph is a good man. I freed him from Meg’s farm and asked James Southall to take him as a worker. He watches over my room, where my papers are protected as much as my privacy is. Joseph rushed to the smith’s shop to inform me a young lady desired entrance here.”

Bloody hell! In her eagerness to perform the deed, she hadn’t asked the servant his name. She’d failed miserably as a spy.

“Amanda, who set you against me? Tell me.”

She shook her head. Jeffrey clasped her shoulders. She swallowed hard, the heat of his hand burning through her gown.

“Tell me, Amanda. I want truth from your lovely lips. Who set you against me? Dunmore?”

Amanda bit her lip. Jeffrey nodded. “Your cousin then. Why?” He gave her a little shake.

“Please, Jeffrey.” There was no pleading with that hardened expression. “’Twas not my idea. I was forced.”

“How?”

“Lord Dunmore... I cannot reveal the circumstances...” Shame at her father’s weakness coursed through her. Her composure threatened to unwind like a spool of unkempt yarn. “He promised a favor in return for information against Patrick Henry. I did not wish to perform this task, but he left no choice.”

His jaw tightened, but he released her. “’Tis Pat he wants.”

Amanda sighed. “Aye. And you as well.”

“So you used the excuse of teaching Sara and your friendship with my sister to gain access to my quarters. ’Tis why you were in my room when you pretended interest in my bed.”

She hung her head in misery. “I did not mean to hurt Meg or the children. Truly, I do have affection for them.”

He gazed out the window, as if seeking answers. Then he smiled. She did not care for the gleam in his eyes. It was almost better to see him angry. This look was dangerous.

“Joseph wondered why you wanted into my room. I thought ’twas to warm my bed. It would have been a more pleasant surprise than what greets me now.”

“You, sir, take liberties with your tongue,” she warned.

“’Tis not the only instrument I could take liberties with. A lady alone in a man’s room? An invitation, at best.”

Jeffrey stepped closer. Amanda retreated, putting up her palms to repel him. Her pulse thudded all the harder. Damn Father for putting her in the wolf’s lair. Damn Dunmore for setting her to spy.

“Come, Amanda, why do you back away like that? I’ll not hurt you. Why are you afraid of me?” he asked softly.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she replied. Just of his intentions.

He closed the distanced between them, forcing her to press against the wall. Amanda looked wildly about the room, gauging the distance to the door and freedom. Turning her head she looked frantically around to avoid his penetrating gaze. She glanced at the narrow bed. Wrong place to look.

“What do you want Jeffrey? You have the letter.” She felt his warm breath upon her face and smelled the sweetness of cinnamon.

His wicked smile sent chills down her spine. “’Tis not all I want. You have no idea of how lovely you are. How much you tempt a man.”

“’Tis best you ease off and leave me be. I’ll not inform on you. I promise.”

“Too late,” he said softly. “You entered my room. I warned you those who meddle in my affairs must pay the price.”

His firm, square mouth was mere inches from hers, his body pressed closer to her. Amanda sucked in a quivering breath. The last time he’d advanced like this, temptation had called her with its siren song. She must resist. She retreated from his dominating presence, alarmed at her rising excitement to his nearness.

“Mandy,” he murmured. “I shall call you Mandy. Amanda is so formal. And we’ve known each other in ways that are not quite formal. Have we not?”

“Aye, and ’tis best we forget such matters. I will if you will.”

“I will not. For how can I ever forget the kisses burned into my memory?” Jeffrey said in a husky voice. “They leave me craving more.”

Placing his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her within those solid arms, he claimed her mouth. She made a weak sound of protest. Her eyes fluttered shut as he cupped her cheek. His kiss was so soft, gentle and unhurried, she capitulated. Jeffrey would not hurt her. Surely one minute more with this lovely sensation would not harm. She pressed her palms against his broad shoulders.

When Jeffrey pulled back, she opened her eyes. Still cupping her cheeks, he looked down at her. “Mandy, you are so beautiful, ’tis like kissing a dream when my lips meet yours.”

Pulling her into his arms, he swung her around and kissed her again. She hated herself for the reaction he inspired. Why could he not be William, all onion breath and greedy panting? Why did Jeffrey master her body as if it were a violin and he a musician who could pluck the strings, persuading it to play?

Her body sang in harmony to his sonorous melody. With a gentle tug, he pulled off her lace cap. Jeffrey fingered a lock escaping her tightly pinned hair. Dazed by rising passion, Amanda pushed away all doubts. Safe daylight. No harm in a kiss. No shame in an innocent embrace. Warmth flooded her, bathed her overly sensitive skin. Amanda slid her hands along Jeffrey’s toned forearms. A man’s arms, accustomed to forging iron. Yet despite his strength, he was so gentle with her.

As they kissed, he moved her backwards until her knees hit the back of the bed. Absorbed in his mouth moving over hers, she barely noticed. His kiss deepened. The sweet melody became an urgent rhapsody as he drank in her mouth. Warmth surged in her blood, pooling in her loins. Moaning, she clung to him as his tongue tangled with hers. And then he leaned forward and she fell backwards upon the bed, Jeffrey falling atop her.

Levering his muscled body off her, he sat back on his haunches. Jeffrey ran a calloused thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. With a muttered oath, he fumbled at her bodice ribbons, trying to untie them. Horrified, Amanda caught his wrist. It felt like gripping iron. A wicked gleam lit his eyes.

“Do you not want this, Mandy?” Without waiting for her answer, he kissed her again and nipped her bottom lip.

“More,” she said in a breathless whisper when they broke apart.

Jeffrey smiled. He yanked at the ribbons and underlying stays. Amanda sighed as her breasts came unbound. Her hands curled around his neck.

“Kiss me again, Jeffrey.”

“My pleasure, my lady.”

His mouth met hers, tongues tangling together in a sweet duet. Then he nuzzled her neck and kissed the sensitive spot below her ear. Delicious heat curled up her spine. Amanda writhed beneath him. She didn’t know what this was, what she wanted, only that she yearned for more.

Amanda arched upward as he trailed a light line of kisses down her neck, then lightly pressed his lips to the halves of her breasts swelling above her bodice. Her breath came in quick, rapid pants.

“Shall I stop?” he whispered into her ear.

“Nay, do not stop,” she cried out.

A hesitant cough interrupted her bliss. Amanda turned, half dazed from the heat of Jeffrey’s intimate caresses. In the doorway of the room, Mr. James Southall, owner and proprietor of the Raleigh, stood staring. A flush colored his rotund cheeks as if the gentleman had imbibed his establishment’s liquor.

“I beg your pardon, Jeffrey, didn’t know you had company.” The man squinted. “Why, is it Miss Amanda Reeves?”

Horrified, Amanda turned away. Jeffrey stood if he had nary a care in the world, leaving her exposed on the bed, her bodice gaping open like a wound.

“Good day to you, Miss Reeves,” Mr. Southall said in a grave tone. He marched off, shoes thumping against the pine floor.

Jeffrey stood above her, arms folded across his chest. Bloody fool she was! Caught in the very throes of torrid passion! Amanda groped for her unlaced bodice. Mortified, she realized the picture presented to Mr. Southall. She’d been caught in the very same position back in London. Fumbling with her bodice’s loose ribbons, Amanda scrambled off the bed and looked at Jeffrey’s satisfied expression.

He knew, the brigand. He knew exactly how damaging Mr. Southall’s observance had been. And he’d enjoyed every moment.

Jeffrey leaned against the wall, relishing the winning card held tightly in his hand. James had executed his timing perfectly. He had met the tavern owner downstairs, explained his predicament and his suspicions of Amanda. James, a fervent patriot, graciously agreed to participate in the little drama. Fifteen minutes to confront Amanda, sweep her into his arms and set her up for the inevitable.

Right on time, James had marched through his open doorway. The tavern owner became a witness to a bit of morning naughtiness.

Her swollen, reddened mouth gaped open. He felt a ridiculous inclination to reach up and shut it with one finger.

His own body ached. Amanda had sucked the very breath from him. Jeffrey steeled himself against a rising desire to tumble her on his bed and finish what they’d started.

Time enough later for that conquest. He smiled gently down at her mortified expression.