Читать книгу The Duke's Redemption - Carla Capshaw - Страница 12

Sleep refused to visit Elise. Despite the cool breeze ruffling the white lace curtains of her bedchamber, she was hot and sticky with perspiration. Moonlight illuminated the far side of the room, but barely reached the mosquito-netted bed where she tossed and turned.

More and more of late, her prayers seemed to go unanswered. Without the Lord’s guidance she felt adrift and abandoned. With her future and the future of her sister in ever-increasing peril, she clung to the scripture that promised the Lord would never leave her.

But, she had to admit, her faith had begun to bow under the weight of His silence in the midst of her endless concerns.

Prin released a long-suffering breath. “Who you wrestlin’ over there?”

“I can’t sleep,” Elise mumbled. The ropes holding the feather mattress creaked as she flipped to her back. “I believe I’d find more comfort on a stone slab.”

“It’s a mite better than the mats and cold musty ground of the slave cabins.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I have no right to complain.”

“What’s ailing you, then? The truth, if you please.”

“Nothing.” She couldn’t talk about Zechariah’s threats with her sister. Prin would protest by way of silent mutiny and hot cups of tea in the spymaster’s lap at breakfast. In all likelihood, Zechariah would use the excuse to relegate Prin to the slave cabins instead of turning a blind eye to her presence in his home as he did now.

“So you’ve taken to lying? I thought my mother taught you better.”

Prin was like a hound with a strong scent in her nose. If she ran true to form, Prin wouldn’t leave her sister alone until she was fed a satisfactory tale.

“Nothing in particular, I should have said.” Elise sighed. “In truth I have much on my mind, none of which I wish to trouble you with.”

“I’ll wager you do have much on your mind. My name may be Princess but you’re the queen of frettin’.” Her sister turned smug. “Good thing I’m here. I knew you’d come to me for the truth.”

“You know I’m always glad you’re here with me, but in this case, I wouldn’t know what truth you speak of.”

Prin rolled her eyes. “Of course you do, Lisie, you’re not the brainless girl you play so well. You’re not blind either. Your problem’s a simple one—man trouble. Did you find out whether Amberly’s married or not?”

Truth to tell, she’d forgotten to inquire about such basic information. In retrospect, she felt quite inept. If her reaction to the man hadn’t distracted her so, she would have had him volunteering those simple facts without him realizing. “No, but then you’re the one determined to see me wed.”

“I want to see you settled and protected.”

“But I have no wish to marry.”

“You’re nineteen,” Prin pointed out. “Fast becomin’ an old maid.”

Elise groaned. “And any man within five colonies is an acceptable candidate?”

“I just want you safe and happy.”

Elise crossed her arms behind her head and closed her eyes. Her sister’s concern tugged at her heart. Still. “I can’t see how being shackled to a man can provide any woman with happiness.”

“Why are you being such a mulehead?” Prin huffed. “Marriage and misfortune don’t have to mean the same thing.”

Elise turned her head and strained to see her sister’s face. The fat candle she’d lit while preparing for bed no longer burned. In the faint moonlight, she could make out little except the outline of Prin’s cheek and the brightness of her eyes. “Just because you’ve found happiness with Kane doesn’t mean we’re all destined for an equally joyful end.”

“But findin’ a husband would solve all your problems.”

Aghast, Elise sat up in the bed and twisted toward her sister. “I believe it’s finally happened.”

“What?”

“You’ve gone daft.”

“Have not.”

Elise scrunched the bedsheets in her fists. It was illegal for slaves to wed, but ever since she’d found a minister willing to officiate a secret marriage between Prin and Kane, her sister had become convinced Elise needed to marry as well. “In all seriousness, how can you be foolish enough to believe marriage would solve my difficulties? It’s more likely a husband would multiply them. Recall, if you will, how our father treated both our mothers.”

“Aye, Pa was a bad seed, but not all men are such fiends.”

“Then let’s consider Roger.”

“Why? The man’s a goat’s bottom, nothing more. Just ’cause your ma believed his sweet talk and found misery in matrimony, don’t mean all church aisles lead in the same direction.”

Elise wasn’t so certain. Without care for her reputation, her own mother had abandoned her in favor of a handsome man’s honey-coated promises. Once she and her new lover were free to wed, Roger showed his true colors, and in the end, her mother found herself tied to a second wicked husband.

Her voice husky with remembered pain, she whispered, “Zechariah is another fine example of male selfishness gone awry.”

Prin clucked her tongue and shook her head on the pillow. “You’re just bein’ a goose. Zechariah has principals even if he’s far from perfect. And before you mention some other poor fool, what about Kane? Or how ’bout Christian? They’re as good and fine men as there ever was born.”

“True enough.”

“Then why not your friend? You both have this spy business in common. He won’t keep you from carryin’ out your stubborn convictions. You could chase around the countryside together, bring down all the redcoats…. ’Sides, he fancies you.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Christian is a gentleman and a dear, but he fancies many women. Besides, how could I think to marry a man who stirs nothing in me but feelings of the brotherly sort?”

Prin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re just too hard to please.”

“Can we cease this?” Elise lay down, her back to her sister. “I’m tired and must get some rest. I’m off to Charles Towne in the morning, and the ferry leaves at half past seven. Amberly will be on it, so I must sparkle.”

Prin laughed at her sarcasm. “I’m right for sure. That Englishman must have got under your skin like a hungry tick. You only desert subjects and get all huffy when you know I’m right and you’re feelin’ hooked.”

Elise pulled up the sheet and punched her pillow. “Enough, Prin, truly. You couldn’t be more wrong about my interest in that man. Beyond finding out his background for Zechariah, he doesn’t concern me in the least. Now go to sleep.”

“I wasn’t the one tossin’ and turnin’. That was you in a tumble.”

“Do be quiet, will you?”

“It is that man.” Prin leaned over her. A giggle in her voice, she whispered, “That tall, mysterious and darkly handsome English man.”

Elise gritted her teeth. An unsolicited image of Amberly invaded her mind. She saw again his golden eyes and knowing smile. Heard his smooth, rich voice in her head. She squeezed her eyes closed tight, desperate to ward off the warmth that suffused her heart when she thought of him. “Believe what you will. You always do, no matter what I say.”

“It’s your own fault, you know. You prove me right so often I’d be silly to doubt myself.”

A rooster’s crowing startled Drake from a deep sleep. The creature sounded as though it were right outside his window. He pushed back the mosquito net and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet hit the smooth wood, and he took a moment to clear the grogginess from his mind.

Last night he’d declined Zechariah’s offer to have a servant wake him. Normally an early riser, he hadn’t anticipated the image of Elise occupying his thoughts or disturbing his rest enough to make him oversleep.

Wearing the same clothes from the previous night, he stood and stretched his knotted muscles. He crossed to the open window, hoping for a breeze that was, unfortunately, not to be. The sun had barely risen, but the heat was high and the air steamy with humidity.

He looked out across the lush green lawn to the dock. The ferry to Charles Towne had yet to arrive, though a few people waited along the bank of the smooth-flowing river.

Abandoning the window, he made use of the pitcher of cool water and ornate basin on top of the bureau. He changed into fresh clothes, pausing to tie his hair back with a leather string before heading to the first floor.

Downstairs, the clatter of cutlery lead him to the dining room. Zechariah Sayer sat at the head of a long, polished pine table, a plate of bacon, eggs and fresh rolls arranged before him. An array of foods filled the silver trays along the sideboard, scenting the room with the aroma of cinnamon and fried bacon. A handful of servants stood along the bright green walls, obviously waiting for Sayer’s other guests to arrive and break their fast.

Zechariah picked up his steaming cup of coffee and gestured toward one of the chairs. “I’m afraid most everyone else is still abed. I’m an early riser myself. Can’t abide the idea of frittering away half the day in idleness.”

Drake pulled out the chair and made himself comfortable. He snapped his napkin from its neat fold and spread it across his lap. One of the female servants placed a plate of breakfast in front of him. He noted how attractive the girl looked with her lovely brown eyes and full lips. She reminded him of Elise, which was nonsense. He must be going round the bend. The chit was invading his dreams and now he was starting to see her in every pretty face he came across.

He took a drink of his coffee and added a teaspoon of sugar to mute its bitterness. “I, too, prefer an early start. At home I enjoy exercising my horses in the cool of the day.”

“We have a full stable here. Make use of it if you wish.” The older man took a bite of egg and chewed with greedy enjoyment. He poked his fork in Drake’s direction. “Just stay clear of Elise’s gelding, Freedom. She’s in love with the mount. I’d hate to have to rescue you from her ire if you borrow him.”

A half smile curved Drake’s lips. He accepted a roll from the pretty, light-skinned slave. “Thank you for the offer—and the warning. I shall look forward to riding tomorrow. I believe you said the ferry leaves for Charles Towne this morn at half past seven?”

“Aye,” Sayer said, motioning toward the mantel clock with his knife. “It should be here by now. You’d best hurry if you hope to be aboard.”

Ten minutes later, Drake joined the other passengers waiting on the riverbank near the garden house. Birds chirped, hidden in the towering oaks. The musty smell of moss hung in the steamy air. Kirby had stayed behind to continue the hunt for clues to the Fox’s identity. Drake had yet to see Elise, and his disappointment was acute. With the ferry leaving soon, he’d have no chance to see her for the rest of the day.

Waving, the ginger-haired ferry captain jumped onto the dock, his freckled face split in a huge, snaggle-toothed grin. “Miss Cooper!”

Drake pivoted on his heel to find Elise rushing up the path. His chest tightened in appreciation. She was exceptional. The daylight allowed him to see details of her face previously concealed. Her smooth skin and startling green eyes were no mistake of the candlelight. She’d forgone a wig and a cap, allowing him to indulge his curiosity about her hair. Dark brown with thick strands of red and gold that glinted in the morning sun. Tied at the nape, the long tresses hung over her shoulder and swayed below her waist as she walked.

With a smile and a wave to the captain, Elise joined Drake at the back of the queue. All bright smiles and vivacious energy, she reminded him of a perfect spring morning.

“Hello, Mr. Amberly. Fine day for a sail.”

“Fine day, indeed, Miss Cooper. Most fine, now that I’m aware you’re following me.”

“Following you, sir? You’re mad if you think so.” She lifted the leather satchel she held. “If not for a friend in need, I’d still be asleep.”

He smiled. “Then thank heaven you’re a friend willing to help.”

Elise ignored the sudden racing of her heart. With the letters for Tabby hidden in her satchel, an emergency stop at Riverwood Plantation to rescue muskets and Drake Amberly to dissect for information, she had too much to do to be taken in by his charm.

The bell rang, announcing their imminent departure. The other dozen or so passengers, some carrying chickens or leading goats on leashes, moved en masse onto the ferry’s deck.

Drake helped her onboard, but the captain was there to meet her. He doffed his tricorn. “Good mornin’, Miss Cooper.”

“Good morning, Captain Travis. How’s your mother since her illness last week? Did the honey and lemons I sent make a difference?”

The young man beamed. “She’s back up to snuff, ma’am, and told me to thank you. The toddy she made did the trick. Her lung rattle’s gone.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Let me know if she needs anything else.”

The captain nodded his appreciation and reluctantly went back to his work. Elise moved starboard. She placed the satchel between her feet and beneath the hem of her yellow skirt before taking hold of the ferry’s rail. Drake joined her, his height and broad shoulders casting a long shadow over the deck.

“I dare say our young captain is another of your smitten conquests.”

“Don’t be silly, Mr. Amberly. Travis isn’t smitten, he’s my friend.” In truth, he was her partner in espionage. Over the past year she’d taken this particular journey more times than she could count. Beyond her regularly scheduled trips, Travis aided her often when an unexpected need to travel presented itself. Zechariah paid him well for his inconvenience, but his loyalty was free.

“Like Christian?”

The ferry wobbled as it launched. She gave him a saucy grin. “Careful, Mr. Amberly. We haven’t known each other long enough for you to be jealous.”

He frowned. “Perhaps not, but I do believe I am.”

He sounded as surprised by his confession as she was to hear it. Facing him, she was struck by how dangerous he was to her peace of mind. Something rare and beyond her experience had snuck up and bloomed between them. Other men had been as blunt, but they’d left her cold. With Drake, she felt as if she were being bathed with the sun.

He brushed her cheek with his fingertips and slipped a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “It’s my fondest hope we’ll grow our acquaintance.”

Breathless, she stared into his golden eyes, wishing she was the carefree young miss she pretended to be. She forced her gaze out across the river. Focus, focus, she warned herself. Prin is depending on you. The patriots need you. Dear Lord, please help me! Determined to carry out her task, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I agree, Mr. Amberly, we should grow our acquaintance. By all means, let’s chat.”