Wild legacy (19 page)

"I was so close," Sean complained sadly, but then he began to knead her thigh. "God, you feel so good."

Dominique looked around quickly to make certain the other patients in the room hadn't caught the husky note of desire in Sean's voice. Fortunately, the afternoon was so warm they were all dozing. "I don't believe you really want to write to this woman."

"Oh, but I do. Let's just say that I've been shot, but not even the specter of death could erase her lovely face from my memory."

"Really? That's rather good, Sean. She should be deeply flattered." Dominique's handwriting was replete with graceful feminine swirls, but she took special care to make each word flow with gently curving strokes. "That's a promising beginning," she added, then cautioned herself to remember not a single word would be sincere.

"Good." Sean rubbed his thumb in a small circle on her thigh. "We've been apart far too long, but I've not forgotten the honeyed-sweetness of her kiss, nor—"

"Just a minute, don't get ahead of me." At first outraged by his possessive hold on her leg, Dominique was finding his more gentle touch increasingly difficult to ignore. She

doubled her efforts to produce beautiful writing, and completed his second sentence. "Yes, and . . . ?"

Sean's voice was still seductive. "How the sunlight gifts her fair curls with a silvery glow."

"She's blond? I thought you preferred redheads," Dominique remarked without glancing his way.

"That was a long time ago, Dominique. A great deal has happened since then."

"None of it good, I imagine." Dominique reviewed what he had dictated thus far. "You've praised her lovely face, honeyed kiss, and fair curls. What about her figure? Is she such a voluptuous woman you dare not refer to it?"

"No. She's as slender as a moonbeam."

"Why, Sean, that's truly poetic." Dominique added the phrase to the letter. His hand was still now, merely resting on her thigh, but she felt the heat of his touch all the way through her faded gown and layers of petticoats. It was an effort not to squirm out of his reach, but she did not want him pleasuring himself again, which she was certain he had done merely to embarrass her. Her emotions in a riotous jumble, she had to force herself to meet his glance.

"If you're tired, we can finish this later," she offered.

"No. I want to complete it now. Just tell her how sorry I am that we met at such an inopportune time, but now I hope love can be our only concern."

His tone was surprisingly gentle, and for a brief instant Dominique wondered if perhaps he had truly fallen in love. Just as quickly, she reminded herself that he was undoubtedly manipulating the poor woman's feelings as blatantly as he had her own. "Do you feel up to signing it?" she asked.

"I can try."

Dominique was glad to have an excuse to shift her position, and give him something else to do with his hand. She dipped the pen in the ink, handed it to him, and turned the Bible and sheet of stationery toward him. "Hurry, before the ink begins to drip."

"Don't be so impatient. First I want to read what you've written."

"You don't trust me to write exactly what you said?" Dominique easily conveyed her shock, although she had not forgotten the footnote she intended to add.

Sean swore softly, then shot her a skeptical glance. He read the note through quickly, then signed his first name with deliberate care. Worn out by the effort, he closed his eyes as soon as he had handed her back the pen. "There's no need to address an envelope. I meant it for you."

Unable to decide if she was flattered or appalled, Dominique sat back in her chair and simply stared at him. She had transcribed the love letter without letting herself really feel the words. Not that she would have been jealous of his tender thoughts for another woman, but simply because he infuriated her so. Now she did not know what to believe. She was sorely tempted to tear up the letter and throw it at him, but something stayed her hand.

"You mentioned travel plans?" she asked hesitantly.

Sean opened his eyes and smiled. "Yes. With only one good arm, I'm no use to the army, so you're going to invite me to go home with you. It will be good to see Ian again."

"Take you home!" Dominique shouted so loudly she woke half the room. "No. That's too much to ask."

Sean cocked a brow. "You know better than to cross me, Dominique." He dropped his voice so the other patients could not overhear. "Either you take me home, or Belle is going to spend a very ugly afternoon with Lieutenant Beck."

Not daring to doubt him, a wave of revulsion washed through Dominique, but as she nodded, she wondered if there were a name foul enough to describe a man who would offer a love letter in one breath and such a vile threat in the next.

While her sister appeared to be sincerely pained by the memory of the attention she had received, Belle thought she was overlooking an important factor. She sat down opposite her on her own cot. "You flirted outrageously, Dominique, so you ought not to complain when your ploys were effective. What did you expect? If you throw a baited hook into the river, you'll surely catch a fish."

Dominique could not argue with Belle's perceptive comment. As soon as her figure had taken on womanly curves, she had been shamelessly eager for attention from men. She had gotten it, too. It had been thrilling at first, but eventually she had grown hungry for something more than sloppy kisses and halting declarations of love.

"Yes," she admitted softly. "I know I have only myself to blame, but still—"

Belle waited, and when Dominique was too troubled to continue, she prompted her. "You were attracted to Sean because he was a challenge. But that was years ago. Now he's the enemy, and a dangerous one at that. Don't tell me you still want him."

Dominique looked up, her glance filled with pain. "That would be stupid, wouldn't it? It's so easy to despise what he is, or his damnable threats, but there's something so compelling about him that I can't help but wish he were a gentleman instead of the loathsome rogue he is."

Belle thought of the way Falcon's thick, ebony hair streamed out in the wind when he urged Nails into a gallop. She was positive she would love Falcon even if he were bald, but she could not deny how much she loved his hair. "It's very difficult to separate a man's personality from his looks, isn't it? Even when Falcon is at his worst, I can't help but think how handsome he is. Wild and stubborn, he is so much a part of me there are times I feel as though there is only one of us, living in two bodies. Do you feel that way about Sean?"

Dominique shook her head, for she was exquisitely aware

of the important differences that separated them. "Perhaps we were simply born at the wrong time," she mused sadly. "If the colonies had not wanted to be independent, no, needed to be free, then perhaps we could have met and fallen in love without either of us having to compromise our ideals."

"If you don't want Sean dead, you better say so now, because if I tell Falcon that you do, he won't live long."

Dominique put her fingers to her temples. "We still have three days, and I've something else for you to tell Falcon." She recounted her conversation with Sergeant Danby. "The troops may have already started marching north, and then it will be plain they're headed for Charlotte, but if not, a few days warning may save some lives, if not many."

Belle nodded. "So we've become spies after all."

Dominique had had several hours to ponder their fate, and fully shared her sister's dismay. "I can't believe how greatly we've changed, or rather, I've changed. You've always been far more serious in your outlook on life. I was the frivolous one. Well, no more. The journey was too hard, and we've seen too much suffering since we arrived for me to ever return home and be content to arrange pretty bouquets all morning and flirt away the afternoons. Assuming any men survive this wretched war to flirt."

"The end of the war may be a year or more away. What are you going to do about tonight?"

Dominique recalled the warmth of Sean's touch and felt only shame. "I'll stay with Sean again. He's too weak to rape me, and he will be for a good long while, so I'll be safe in that respect."

Belle pulled off her kerchief and shook out her hair. "And in others?"

That was the real question. Dominique offered only a sad smile. "A snake fascinates his prey, and that's all Sean O'Keefe is: a handsome viper. I'm going to remind myself

of that comparison as often as it takes to order his death without a twinge of regret."

"It's a shame you worked so hard to save him."

"Yes. Isn't it? Mother always insisted it was God who worked the miracles, not the herbs. I just don't understand why God would want a man so totally devoid of character kept alive. Can you?"

"I won't even pretend to understand why good men die, while those with vile natures survive. I would like to believe the world is fair, but it isn't. This war is proof of that."

Dominique rose with a weary stretch. "I need to get back to Sean. After all, the sooner I make him well, the sooner we can leave for home." She ducked out of the tent and walked back to the farmhouse. She had had quite enough for one day, and hoped Sean had already fallen asleep, but he was awake, and waiting for her.

Sean was clutching a bowl of blackberries. "I was afraid you'd gotten lost. From now on, you'll take your meals here with me."

Dominique sat down beside him. "I don't want to leave Belle all alone."

"She'll find other company soon enough." He handed her the bowl. "Some of the men went out to gather berries. I saved these for you."

Dominique loved blackberries, but she did not want to take anything from Sean. "No, please. You eat them." She plucked one off the top and guided it to his mouth. He took it, and licked his lips.

"I've already had some," he claimed. "You must eat a few before I'll take another."

Easily succumbing to that demand, Dominique popped a plump berry into her mouth. It was juicy and sweet, exactly like those growing near home. "I wish we had some cream," she remarked wistfully.

"I asked for some, and was told the farmer's cows had

all been slaughtered for beef. There should be plenty of cream at your house, though, shouldn't there?"

Dominique leaned forward with another berry, and Sean opened his mouth wide. As soon as she had dropped in the berry, he caught her wrist and sucked her index finger into his mouth. She tried to pull away, but he held on in a reckless hint of what he would taste later on. Warm and wet, the sensation was not at all unpleasant, but she refused to provide even a glimpse of her true feelings. She simply stared at him coldly until he finally released her.

"You taste better than the berries," he whispered. "I'd like to drip the juice down between your breasts, and then lick it up."

Appalled by that request, Dominique sat back. She had known other men who were adept at flirting, but none had had Sean's ribald tastes. Or at least they had not taken such obvious pride in declaring them. "When are you going to consider what / want? Do you think you could practice being a gentleman for a few days at least? I really believe it would do you good."

"Perhaps, but it wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable. Did you read my letter to Belle?" He saw the answer in Dominique's startled expression and flashed a mocking grin. "I'm so pleased you consider it too precious to share."

"I burned it," Dominique lied.

"You did not," Sean countered, "and we both know why."

Unwilling to play the attentive nurse, Dominique placed the bowl of blackberries back in his hand. "Feed yourself. The exercise will be good for you." She folded her arms across her bosom and looked out the window. The setting sun bathed the scarred fields with burnished gold, but there would be no fall harvest. She wondered how wide a swath of desolation the British had cut, and prayed they would never touch her family's plantation. She was sickened by the thought of Lord Cornwallis using the beautiful Barclay home as his headquarters, as he had Mr. Kershaw's.

Sean studied the play of golden light warming Dominique's sweet features and saw a fierce determination he had previously missed. "Dominique? Why is it so difficult for you to admit that you care for me?"

Dominique did not glance his way. "Eat your berries."

"They're for you, remember?"

"Threats and presents? Do you find that an effective combination with other women?"

Sean toyed briefly with the idea of swearing there had been no other women since he had last seen her, but too many years had passed for her to believe him. There had been a great many women, in fact. Lovely creatures not unlike her and Belle, then later, pretty young widows he had done his utmost to console. Some he had actually missed when he had received orders to move on, but none had lingered in his mind like a haunting perfume the way Dominique had.

"I should have mentioned your voice in that letter," he said. "You speak all the time in the husky tones other women only produce in the throes of passion. It's one of the most enchanting things about you. I would love to hear you sing."

Men often remarked on her voice, but the low, breathless quality was entirely natural. Even as a child, she possessed a woman's voice. "The only time I dare sing is in church when my voice blends with everyone else's. Otherwise, it's simply a disappointment."

"It couldn't be." Sean would have liked to continue the verbal sparring for hours, but he could barely keep his eyes open. "Will you please take this bowl? I don't want to spill the berries when the other men would like them."

That was such a polite request, that Dominique took the bowl and carried it out to the kitchen. Dr. Perry helped himself to a handful the instant she set it on the table. She had expected him to comment on Sean's good progress, but he seemed unconcerned about his patient's health.

"Be careful," he warned. "It's clear you and Colonel O'Keefe are close, but displays of affection are totally inappropriate in this setting. I realize some of my patients would find amorous antics entertaining, but I most definitely would not. In fact, the men are all doing so well here, I believe your talents will be of more use to the men down with fever. Beginning tomorrow, the only time you'll need to be here in the farmhouse is when you brew your herbal remedies."

Dominique had no hope of convincing Sean she was needed elsewhere, and had to refuse a change in assignment. "I'm unwilling to abandon Sean while he's so weak. If he's neglected, we could still lose him."

Stephen Perry thought he had made himself clear. He raised his voice slightly to make his order more emphatic. "You must have misunderstood me, Miss Scott. You'll do as I say here, or I'll have to insist that you and your sister leave."

Dominique smiled to herself. Nothing would please her more than to be ejected from Camden, but again, she knew Sean would never allow it. "I believe Colonel O'Keefe outranks you, Doctor. That means I'll have to stay here where I can look after his needs. Please discuss the matter with him if you like, but we both know what the outcome will be."

Leaving the physician sputtering in astonishment, Dominique returned to the bedroom. Sean's eyes were closed, but he sensed her presence and looked up. "Are you in much pain?" she asked. "I'll fetch you some laudanum if you are."

"You'll be enough."

Dominique sat down and covered a wide yawn. "I doubt it. I'm too tired to do more than sleep."

"So am I. Scoot your cot next to mine again so I can hold your hand." When Dominique didn't obey immediately, Sean was annoyed but chose not to make his request

an order. "When we first met, you were such a delightful surprise. I'd come to your family's plantation searching for the scoundrels who were circulating those damnable pamphlets ridiculing the king. Then you came to the door, and I couldn't even remember what had brought me there. You can tell me now. It was your family that was behind the pamphlets, wasn't it?"

Indeed it had been, but Dominique spoke the lie without a pause. "Of course not. We were merely raising tobacco that spring. You have a very suspicious nature, Colonel."

"Sean."

Dominique glanced out the window. He had been given the choice location because of his rank, but she was the one who constantly sought the view. The sun had already set, leaving only a pale pink glow in the west. Without the light, the Wateree River formed a dark border at the edge of the fields. The British troops would follow it up past Wateree Lake, then the Catawba River would lead them on toward Charlotte.

"And you are secretive," Sean finally added.

Dominique turned back toward him. "You know all my secrets, Sean."

She was very beautiful, and in the fading light her expression held the magnificent sadness of a Renaissance madonna. "I know nothing at all," he told her. "You could have fallen in love, married, had children, been widowed. A great deal may have happened to you these past few years."

"I've had neither husband nor children," she confided softly. "My life has simply stood still since the war began. I was eager to change that sorry fact. That's why I'm here."

"No. That's not why you're here at all." Sean's glance was warmly admiring. "You're here to be with me. Now don't make me wait a moment longer. Move your cot close so I can hold you."

Fate had given their journey such a dangerous detour,

Dominique wondered if he could be right. If so, being with him was an apt punishment for the years she had wasted at home doing little more than being pretty. She got up to move the chair aside and repositioned her cot alongside his. When she stretched out on it, he slipped his arm under her shoulders to force her to rest her cheek on his bare chest. She resisted briefly, but the warmth of his skin against hers was so pleasant, she relaxed and draped her arm across him. He was so thin, her fingers fit between his ribs.

She knew she ought to tell him that Dr. Perry wanted her to tend other men, but his reaction was sure to be a poor one, and she did not want to overtax his strength. Sean pulled off her kerchief and wound his fingers in her curls. His touch was gentle, and for the moment, she felt safe in his arms. It was surely a trick, though, and tomorrow he would undoubtedly renew his threats. But for tonight at least, she was content to sleep in his arms.

The next morning, Sean was determined to leave his cot. "If you won't help me, then I'll find one of the surgeons' mates who will."

After waking, Dominique had left him only long enough to clean up as best she could in her tent. The fact that he'd come up with such a stupid idea in the few minutes he had spent alone astounded her. "You've lost too much blood, Sean. You'll surely faint, and if the mate doesn't catch you in time, you might break your one good arm in the fall. Then where would you be?"

Sean's eyes narrowed. "I am not a child and I'll not have you fussing over me like a doting mother."

"Fine. Dr. Perry wants me to tend the men stricken with fever and I'll begin right now."

As she turned away, Sean reached out to grab hold of her skirt. He gave it a good yank to pull her back to him, but then had to struggle to catch his breath. "God, how I hate this," he moaned. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then gave in. "Perhaps you're right and I am too weak

to stand, but that doesn't mean I couldn't lie in the back of a wagon and reach Williamsburg safely."

Dominique leaned back against the windowsill as she considered his request. She doubted Falcon would accept another delay in their escape from Camden, and if she and Belle left with Sean, they would have a safe passage past whatever British troops they encountered in the area. If they let Sean live more than an hour to two.

She had awakened several times during the night to find his arm still wrapped around her, She had then seen his need to be near her as pitiful rather than repugnant and had wondered if perhaps his vicious streak weren't masking the fear that he truly would be left a cripple. She chided herself not to make excuses for the snake, and straightened up.

"Your troops brought you here in a ramshackle old wagon that's still in the yard. Belle and I have mounts that can pull it, but it won't be an easy journey, and I'd like you to be stronger before we begin." Knowing he would challenge whatever day she chose, she offered one in hopes of winning with a compromise. "Another week should do it."

Sean actually winced. "No, I can't wait nearly that long."

Dominique was such an accomplished actress, her dismay was completely convincing. "Oh, Sean, really." She shook her head, and then felt his forehead to make certain his fever hadn't returned. "I'll need time to gather what provisions I can, and make certain the wagon won't disintegrate beneath us before we've traveled ten miles. You'll have to request a leave to recuperate in Virginia, and that might not be readily approved. Let's give ourselves three days to prepare, then if you feel up to it, we'll go."

Sean tried to sit up, but was overwhelmed by a sick, rolling dizziness that left him gasping for breath. Suddenly the prospect of being jostled this way and that in the back of a wagon was anything but appealing. "Three days it is then," he agreed, hoping he would feel a whole lot better, by then. "Bring me some of the porridge. It's undoubtedly

tasteless, but it will at least be filling and my body won't know the difference."

"I'll add a little honey. Would you like that?"

Sean caught her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Yes. Send for Lieutenant Beck. I want to know why they haven't found the bastard who shot me."

Dominique pulled her hand from his and tried not to let him see how frightened she was by his request. "Is that all you want of him?" she asked.

At first puzzled by her question, Sean soon grasped the cause of her apprehension. "Yes," he assured her, but his smile became a self-satisfied smirk. "I'll need him to help me get ready to go. Your secret's safe, for the time being at least."

Dominique wasn't sure if it was the golden glint in his eyes or the new growth of beard, but his resemblance to the Devil had become more pronounced with each passing day. Even so, she could not stifle a sarcastic reply. "You are too generous."

"Yes. I am, but you'll have ample opportunity to repay me.

Dominique knew it was not in the way he intended, but she would definitely see that he got what he deserved.

Two nights later, Belle met Falcon at the edge of the woods. "We're leaving tomorrow morning," she rushed to explain before he could again ask why Dominique wasn't with her. She described how they were going to hitch their prize mares to an old wagon, and ride right out of Camden in full view of everyone. He listened attentively until she mentioned Sean O'Keefe would be their passenger and then she had to clap her hand over his mouth to silence a ringing war whoop.

"Please," she implored him. "Dominique's feelings about Sean are ambivalent at best. One minute she's muttering

curses, and in the next weeping as she recounts some sweet gesture he's made. I honestly don't know if they are falling in love or manipulating each other as shamelessly as they did years ago."

Belle paused to give Falcon a quick kiss which he eagerly turned into a lengthy exchange. "Wait," she begged. "There's something else. Cornwallis is preparing to invade North Carolina. Is there some way to warn the people of Charlotte that he's coming?"

Falcon wrapped his arms around Belle's waist and lifted her clear off her feet. "I'm not the only man watching this camp, and the increased activity has already been noted. I never asked you to spy for us, Belle, and I never would, but thank you for the information. Now come with me. I can wait no longer to have you again."

Belle had no desire to play coy, but she was frightened for him. "O'Keefe can't understand why you haven't been caught. He knows only that you ride a sorrel horse, and if you were captured near Camden—"

Falcon stilled her warning with another slow, deep kiss. "I am as elusive as the wind, and the British will never catch me. I'll ride ahead of you in the morning and join you only when it's safe. You'll be able to feel me watching you, though, and know I'm there." He took her hand and led her toward Nails. "Now let's not waste any more of tonight."

Belle waited for him to mount the handsome horse, then he pulled her up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist as they rode into the heart of the forest. His hair was tied at his nape and out of her way as she leaned close to whisper. "Promise me you'll leave Nails at home and take another horse when you leave. He's brought you such good luck thus far, but you're being hunted because of him. You mustn't let your pride in him be your undoing."

Falcon considered her warning with the seriousness it deserved, but Nails was a stallion like no other, and not simply

because of his gorgeous golden-red hide. His first impulse was to refuse, but Belle was clinging to him so tightly, he could feel her trembling with fear and he could not abide that.

"You refused to become my wife, Belle. How can you worry like one?"

"Wife or not, I can't help but worry about you. Whenever you've been away, I've prayed for you constantly."

That Belle had been devoted to him did not surprise Falcon, but he was ashamed not to have known it long ago. "Do not stop now," he teased. A tap of his heels quickened Nails's pace, and they soon arrived at his camp. He had been away since he had last been with Belle, but he found the small clearing again easily. The ground was softened with a thick carpet of leaves, and a stream that flowed into the Wateree River provided clear, sweet water. It was a fine home for him, but as he slid down from his stallion's back and reached up for Belle, he realized it was no place for her.