Too Far to Whisper (17 page)

Rosalind gasped and abruptly sat up as the truth struck her. “Dear Lord, I have fallen in love with Shadow!”

The admission seemed inconceivable, even to her own ears. She had spent the past six years determined not to allow any man to enter her heart or to penetrate the wall she so carefully had constructed around it, yet, somehow Shadow had managed to weaken that resolve in just a few short days.

Hugging the bed pillow to her chest, Rosalind pressed her cheek to it and wept. The last time she had experienced such a deep sense of loss was when her father passed away. In many ways, she thought, the losses were similar. She had dearly loved her father, and now, she loved Shadow…yet she never would see either man again.

CHAPTER TEN

Rosalind was awakened by a knock at the door.  She struggled to open her eyes and for a moment, forgot where she was. She thought she still was lying out in the woods and would roll over to see Shadow, sleeping next to her. Instead, she realized she was alone, in Adam Stoddard’s bed. She could not speculate how much time had elapsed since Shadow had left and she had cried herself to sleep. It might have been only minutes…or hours.

Yawning, she padded across the floor and lifted the door latch, all the while hoping Adam had not been left standing outside too long before his knocking had roused her. She pulled open the door only a crack, then turned and went to warm herself by the hearth. Although the night was warm, Rosalind felt chilled. Shivering, she extended her hands toward the dwindling blaze.

Behind her, the door creaked open, then closed. “I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour, Ma’am,” a male voice apologized, “but I have been informed by several townsfolk that your husband is somewhat of an authority on the Indians in these parts, and I desperately seek his advice.”

Rosalind froze, her heart hammering in her chest. She could not respond, could not breathe. She knew the voice, and she was ill prepared to face the man who possessed it. Slowly, and with her eyes closed, she turned to face the intruder.

“Rosalind!” Nathaniel’s voice held stunned disbelief. “Dear Lord in heaven!  You are safe!”

Her eyes flew open just at Nathaniel’s arms surrounded her, pulling against him with such force, she feared her ribs might crack. “I cannot believe my good fortune!” He planted several kisses on the top of her head as he held her. “I have searched endlessly for you. I cannot remember when last I ate or slept, I have been so consumed with my need to find you!”

Rosalind managed to disentangle herself from Nathaniel’s grasp long enough to observe that his dark-ringed eyes and haggard appearance confirmed his statement. His hair was a mass of tangles, and several days’ growth of beard covered his face. Had she not recognized his voice, she might have mistaken her own betrothed for a stranger.

“Are you all right?” Nathaniel questioned her. His eyes swept over her red, puffy eyes, unkempt hair and Esther’s unflattering frock. “Are you safe here? Where is the Indian?”

“I am fine,” Rosalind responded. “The Indian is far from here, and Mr. Stoddard, who lives here, has been naught but kind to me.”

Nathaniel’s expression reflected his concern. He hesitated for several moments before he asked, “The Indian, did he…harm you in any way?”

Rosalind momentarily considered telling Nathaniel that Shadow had indeed had his way with her, over and over again. She knew that the moment the words slipped from her lips, her betrothal to the captain would be a thing of the past. But could the same be said of her father’s debt? Although she was tempted to find out, she could not bring herself to accuse Shadow of violating her. It was going to be difficult enough to tell falsehoods about Jonathan’s death and being taken hostage, without adding rape to Shadow’s list of alleged crimes. “The Indian harmed me not,” she finally answered.

Nathaniel released a long breath and ran his hand over his unshaven face. “Thank the Lord,” he murmured. Taking Rosalind by the hand, he led her to one of the benches, then sat down and pulled her down beside him. He turned to look at her. “Tell me everything,” he urged, staring unblinkingly at her. “I wish to know all of the details of how you came to be here.”

Rosalind folded her trembling hands in her lap. Nathaniel’s unanticipated arrival had caught her ill prepared to relate a convincing tale about her time with Shadow. The mere thought of having to depict him as some bloodthirsty, cold-hearted savage, when he had shown her naught but kindness and respect, caused her stomach to knot. She realized, however, that she must heed Shadow’s last words to her and be strong. For the sake of her mother’s and sisters’ futures, she had to allow everyone to believe she had been taken hostage. As Shadow had told Adam, it was far too late now for the truth.

Sensing her distress, Nathaniel slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “Please, Rosalind, tell me everything. I know it will be extremely difficult for you to relive the hell you must have gone through, but there are many questions that need to be answered. After all I have gone through to find you, do I not deserve an explanation?”

Rosalind pulled away from him and dropped her gaze. She knew she would not be able conjure up a convincing tale while looking straight at him.

“The night Jonathan died,” she began, her voice but a hoarse whisper, “sleep eluded me because I was so distressed. The heat of the night also was unbearable, so I finally left my chamber and went down to the kitchen for some milk, thinking it might help me to sleep. When I entered, I heard a noise behind me. It was…the savage…lurking in the shadows. Before I even could comprehend who he was or why he was there, he grabbed me and put one of Grace’s carving knives to my throat, warning me not to make a sound.”

She paused to mentally organize the remainder of her tale before she continued. “He forced me to accompany him because he knew if he left me behind, I would have alerted your father immediately, and he wanted to gain a good lead ere anyone went searching for him. We followed the stream for days and finally arrived near Portsmouth. That is when he informed me I no longer was of any use to him and was slowing him down, so he left me there and continued on his own. I dared not move until I was certain he was not returning, then I followed a path that led from the woods and down a knoll to here, Mr. Stoddard’s, where I banged on his door and begged him for help. He has been more than kind to me. He has fed me, given me his wife’s clothes to wear, and even said he would arrange for my safe return home.”

“So you
did
follow the stream,” Nathaniel said, mostly to himself. “My instincts were correct.” He then asked, “Where went the Indian?”

“He headed west,” she said. “But I know not his destination.”

Nathaniel frowned at the news. “We thought he might be heading northwest to the mountains.  In fact, my father and Matthew are concentrating their search in that direction. I fear that by now, the Indian may have increased his lead by a wide margin.”

“Then why not cease your search?” Rosalind lifted her head and turned to look at Nathaniel. “I am safe now. Can we not just return home and put this matter behind us?”

“My dear Rosalind!” Nathaniel’s eyes grew wide. “The savage has murdered a man, a friend of my family.  Are you suggesting we simply forget about that and just leave him to do the same to another man who may anger him?”

“I do not believe Jonathan was murdered,” she said. “I believe he fell and hit his head because he was sotted.”

Nathaniel shook his head in obvious disbelief. “The Indian was found leaning over Jonathan’s body – which showed evidence of being beaten about the face. And by your own admission, the savage held a knife to your throat and took you hostage. Is that the sort of man who should be allowed to run free? Who is to say he will not return someday and capture you again – to finish what he failed to do this time?”

“My only desire at present is to put all of this behind me,” she said, praying for the strength to convincingly add, “And to plan for our wedding.”

Nathaniel’s expression brightened at the mention of the wedding. He grasped Rosalind by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “You are right, my love,” he said, his hazel eyes caressing her face. “’Tis a blessing that amongst all of this turmoil, there is something good to think about. Now that we are together again and you are safe, my main consideration should be to make you my bride. And believe me, it cannot be soon enough to suit me.”

He stood, pulling Rosalind to her feet as he did. “I promise I shall never let you out of my sight again,” he breathed. He kissed her then, a hard, possessive kiss that nearly bruised her lips.

Rosalind’s first impulse was to pull away, but her conscience prevented her from doing so. After all, she reasoned, Nathaniel had searched endlessly for her, caring naught about his own welfare. The least she could do was allow him the reward of a kiss. As Nathaniel’s mouth lingered on hers, Rosalind made a futile attempt to blot out the memory of Shadow’s kisses and the passion they so easily had ignited. Loving Shadow, she realized, was senseless, not only because he soon would be sailing out of her life forever, but also because he had given her no indication that he returned her love.

Determined to erase all memory of Shadow and ease the gnawing pain that had arrived with his departure, Rosalind defiantly wrapped her arms around Nathaniel and pressed her body to his. After all, she thought, if this man soon was to become her husband and she was to be bound to him forever, perhaps it would be wise to attempt to please him rather than to push him away.

Nathaniel was taken aback by Rosalind’s sudden, unexpected response to his kiss. Never before had she shown him even the slightest bit of affection. Had she, he wondered, missed him so desperately? Or was this merely an expression of gratitude and relief because he had found her? Whatever the reason, he decided, he was going to take full advantage of this pleasant change of circumstances, especially since he so desperately craved the company of a woman…any woman.  He moaned with pleasure as he forced his tongue between Rosalind’s lips and slid his hand down to roughly knead her breast.

Revulsion gripped her as she realized, with a deep sense of regret, that her actions had transformed Nathaniel into a lust-incited beast. She moved her arms and pressed her palms against his chest, struggling to push him away from her, but he did not move. Rosalind suppressed a cry of outrage as his free hand dropped to briefly massage the soft roundness of her right buttock before tightening his grasp on it and crushing her hips to his.

Rosalind gulped back the nausea that rose in her throat as Nathaniel’s mouth and tongue continued their relentless assault, his rough stubble of a beard tearing at her delicate skin. His hold on her was so powerful, it rendered her incapable of moving even a fraction of an inch. Breathing became difficult.

Nathaniel’s mouth moved to Rosalind’s ear, where he traced the outline of it with his tongue, his breath coming in short, passion-filled gasps. “Oh, sweet Rosalind,” he whispered hoarsely, “I have waited so long for this moment. I cannot – will not – allow you to refuse me.”

“Please, Nathaniel,” she choked, “wait until our wedding ni…”

Her words were abruptly halted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the walk outside. The door burst open to reveal a scowling Adam. “Did I not specifically instruct you to latch this door?” he boomed.

Startled, Nathaniel released his hold on Rosalind and whirled around to face the man who so boldly had dashed his plans for the evening.  Rosalind grasped the edge of the table and leaned forward, hungrily gasping for air.

Adam halted just inside the doorway and warily eyed the scene before him. His gaze darted from Rosalind, who was trembling and breathless, to the stranger, a handsome but disheveled-looking character, with ire in his eyes and a telltale bulge in his breeches. Adam needed no further proof of the man’s intentions. He reached for the knife he kept sheathed at his side.

“Do not move – not one muscle!” he shouted at Nathaniel. “Or I swear, I will slice your lecherous throat from ear to ear!”

Nathaniel extended his palms toward Adam in a gesture of surrender. “Please, sir, there has been some grave misunderstanding.”

Adam did not move. His grip tightened on the handle of his knife as his eyes remained locked on Nathaniel. “Are you all right, child?” he called to Rosalind, not looking at her.

Rosalind straightened. “I am fine, Mr. Stoddard,” she said with some effort. “This is Nathaniel Corwin…my betrothed.”

Adams eyebrows shot up. His expression did little to conceal his disbelief as his gaze made a critical sweep of Nathaniel’s wrinkled clothing, unshaven face and tangled hair. “Speak you the truth?” he asked when he was able to find his voice. “
This
is the son of the magistrate?”

“Aye, that I am,” Nathaniel confirmed, not daring to remove his eyes from the knife in Adam’s hand. “I fear that in our joy and relief to see each other, Rosalind and I allowed ourselves to become a bit…carried away.” He paused to laugh nervously. “Perhaps ‘twas for the best that you came home when you did, sir, ere we had the opportunity to do something we might later regret.”

Adam finally stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. His eyes, reflecting his skepticism, cut toward Rosalind.

“He speaks the truth,” Rosalind said, having managed to regain some of her composure. “I know that any intimacy prior to marriage is considered a sin, but we have been apart for so long, we could not help ourselves.” The smile she offered him was feeble, at best.

Solely for Rosalind’s benefit, Adam slowly nodded, as if accepting her explanation, but he was too wise, too experienced, not to recognize when someone was feeding him an out-and-out falsehood. The girl’s eyes, still wet with tears, contained raw fear. Adam was positive that this was, by no stretch of the imagination, a passionate reunion between two young people in love. He already knew where Rosalind’s heart lay. A man would have to be blind not to see it was Shadow she loved. Adam could only assume that her reasons for lying about her reunion with this Nathaniel character were valid ones.

“Pray tell, what led you here to my home?” Adam, his tone cold, asked Nathaniel.