Captive Hearts (12 page)

“My mother knew little kindness from my father and knew no mercy from the men that attacked us that night.

I could do little about my father, but I will see the others punished, if it takes a lifetime to do it.”

Hannah placed a hand upon her shoulder. “You can’t do it alone. You have to seek help where you may.”

“Do you think one woman’s life, her dignity, means anything to them?” Katherine shook her head. “Only my father’s and brother’s life will count if justice is ever sought on their behalf. Had she survived they would have blamed her for what they did to her, just as they blamed me. Because we are women, we mean nothing.”

“Unless we’re loved,” Hannah added. “You have to give love to receive it, Katherine. If you’re too afraid to give of yourself, you never will. You’ll be cheatin’ yourself, and you’ll be cheatin’ your husband.” She bit back the words, “I do not have a husband.” A niggling guilty feeling had her biting her bottom lip. She was deceiving everyone, including Hannah. But what else was she to do when she couldn’t depend on their help or support?

Struggling with her frustration and anxiety, she remained at the dressing table for several moments after Hannah left. If Matthew grew curious about the packages in the dressing room, he might discover their contents.

She had to make certain they were hidden or at least placed where he would not notice them. Returning to the room with the dressing table chair, she eased the door closed, lest Matthew return while she hid the packages.

Climbing atop the chair, she hefted the heavy paper wrapped parcels atop the armoire then jumped down.

As her feet touched the floor, the lamp went out leaving an inky blackness that fell like a cowl around her.

The air thickened to the consistency of syrup. Katherine gasped. Her mother’s voice, muffled and pleading, rose out of the darkness, her sounds of pain, animal moans that went on and on. “Momma.” The word escaped on a sob. Katherine shuddered. A blurred image of men standing in a circle watching something upon the ground accompanied by the loud rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing flashed through her memory. Katherine clapped her hands over her ears, blocking the sound, panic making her fight against the emotional anguish it represented. The memory receded leaving her nauseous and dizzy. She reached out and shuffled forward.

Disoriented, her hand brushed the face of a chest of

drawers. She turned to the right, cracking her knee on a drawer left partially open. The opaque fabric of the room closed in around her. Her chest ached with the effort it took for her to breathe. Shivering, a clammy sweat coating her skin, She stumbled forward with her arms straight out before her. Her hand pressed flat against the door. For the first time, she noticed a sliver of light penetrating across the bottom. Her fingers fumbled at the knob trying to turn it. The slick glass slipped from her grasp, then caught, but didn’t turn. Thinking she was locked in she slapped her palm against the door, her breathing too labored for her to cry out. Dear God, get me

out!

The door opened so unexpectedly she pitched forward and would have fallen had Matthew not caught her.

Trembling, her ears filled with the sound of her own panting sobs, she clung to him, her face pressed against his waistcoat.

Several moments passed before her panic eased. She grew aware of the gentle pressure of his hand cradling her head and the strength of his arm supporting her. The softer contours of her body melded with the taller more muscular angularity of his bringing, a fluid weightiness to her lower limbs. A languid heat suffused her skin as the desire to press closer imbued her.

She jerked back, distrustful of her own feelings, more than of him. “Did you lock me in?” His eyes went from blue to gray. His sensual mouth took on a taut angry line that emphasized the hard masculinity of his features. He looked like a dark angel, with his beard-shadowed jaw, dusky brows, and the inky black hair. Katherine told herself it was fear that brought an added weakness to her legs.

His arm tightened around her his expression grim. “I don’t go in for petty reprisals. If ever I wish to seek retribution from you for any wrong you’ve done me, Katherine, I can promise you, I’ll not play the sneak about it. The door wasn’t locked.”

His biting tone and the unflinching directness of his gaze had her sighing. Once again she found herself in the position of having to apologize to him. “I am sorry.”

“You’re afraid of close spaces.”

“Dark, close spaces,” she admitted, her gaze focused upon the stock that hung loose about his neck.

“But you came into the prison.”

“I had no choice. Edward was willing to give me to whoever would have me. I had to find some way to protect myself.”

His jaw went taut.

“At first I thought I might smother.” A shudder shook her. “Mr. Hicks provided a distraction. He made me angry when he began to beat a prisoner. And—you had a window.”

“Such as it was. What were you doing in the dressing room?”

Guilt settled once again upon her shoulders. “Looking for something. Then, the lamp went out.”

“I left it lit last night. The oil must have burnt low.” He kept an arm about her as he guided her to a chair.

Matthew sat down then drew her down on his thigh.

She stiffened and tugged at the hem of the shift she wore.

She attempted to rise, but he restrained her, tightening his hold upon her waist.

“It’s time we spoke.”

“About?” She tugged at the hem of her shift again only succeeding in stretching the fabric across her breasts.

“You.”

He tried to focus on her face and ignore the display as he studied the growing tension of her features and the reflective wariness in her gaze.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Are there anymore problems that you’ve neglected to share with me?”

“No.”

Her quick denial made him suspicious. “Perhaps you’d better tell me.”

She flashed him a furious frown and tried to rise.

His grasp tightened against her hip bringing her against him. He breathed in the clean floral scent of her hair and skin, the musky scent of woman. His attention focused upon the reddened bottom lip that pouted at him so prettily and he fought back the urge to taste it. “As long as we are wed, I’ve a duty to protect and provide for

you.” “Your duty must first be to protect your family.” Her eagerness to thrust aside any connection to them made Matthew uneasy. “My aunt and uncle have embraced you as my wife, Katherine. You made certain of that this morning.”

She moved restlessly upon his thigh and braced a hand against his chest keeping some space between them.

“That was not what I planned.”

She had duped him, no matter what her reasons.

Surely, she understood she couldn’t continue to take advantage of his good graces indefinitely. “You knew what you were doing when you placed the blood upon the sheets. I don’t remember being awakened and taken into your confidence before you did it. Now that we are caught in the trap, we’ve no choice but to make the best of it.” She stiffened visibly and her violet gaze darkened then shifted away.

“I didn’t appreciate waking this morning to your absence and not knowing where you were or when you would return either. I expect to be apprised of your whereabouts from now on.”

“And may I expect the same, Captain?” Her attempt at formality made him angry.

“Certainly.” He inclined his head. “There is little hope of an annulment, Katherine.”

“If you were to seek out some other woman, I could seek a divorce decree.” Katherine said.

Her eagerness for him to be unfaithful struck him as insulting. His jaw grew tight as he fought back the tide of anger. “You might not find the idea of being wed to an adulterer distasteful, but I find the idea of being one so.” Katherine grew still, watchful.

He drew a deep breath. “Talbot can arrange a meeting for you with the court appointed administrator.”

“I would appreciate that.” Her voice took on a husky note. “You do not think Edward has been honest about my inheritance, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

He ran a hand in a circular movement over her back then immediately regretted the gesture. She felt so fragile and feminine beneath the pressure of his hand. He didn’t

want to stop.

“I am not surprised. I guess it is obvious that I do not particularly trust him either.” She tucked a long strand of chestnut hair behind her ear and folded her arms against her waist pressing together the rounded weight of her breasts, exaggerating the cleavage between. Such a display of warm creamy flesh had his palm tingling with a desire to touch. He searched her face, but found no evidence that she knew what she was doing. He tamped down the burgeoning need that brought a hitch to his breathing and made his breeches feel uncomfortably tight.

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “What Edward will never understand is how unimportant the money is. I almost pity him because of that. He cares nothing about losing his brother.”

The statement struck him as more telling than any other she had made. He had known the pain of grief, but had not known it in reference to one of his brothers. They were related through blood, their bond forged more through a wealth of shared experience and years of caring. The knowledge that he was loved and accepted by them somehow made him more than what he would have been without them. Katherine had been stripped of that.

She was left with an uncle, whose care had been questionable at best, and whose attitude had solidified her suspicious beliefs against men. He wanted to throttle Edward Leighton and hang his scrawny carcass from the front balcony of Willingham’s.

He ran a hand down her arm and discovered the warm satin of her skin. His arousal tripled bringing sweat to his brow and a heavy beat to his heart. He reminded himself that she was recuperating from a brutal attack and the loss of her family. She didn’t need, nor would she welcome, the advances of a randy husband. Those thoughts steadied him. He dragged his attention back to the problem at hand.

“You said my duty was to protect my family. It would be better if you would share your concerns with me now so I might do that.”

“They will come, eventually.”

He tensed at the certainty of her tone and probed her expression. No fear appeared evident only an unwavering

acceptance that brought a hollow feeling to the pit of his stomach. If she felt she had nothing else to lose, what would she do? He didn’t care for the answer he derived.

“I’ve already made arrangements to insure your safety, Katherine.”

Her brows rose.

“When you go out, several of my men will accompany you. Until others are hired, the grooms here at Willingham’s will patrol the grounds in shifts at night.”

“You do not intend to lock me away?”

“Not yet.” He purposely adopted a stern expression.

He cupped her chin to insure he had her attention. “The first hint that you’re deliberately placing yourself in harms way, I’ll do so.”

Her fingers folded around his wrist. “It is not my intent to immolate myself in the name of justice, Matthew. My family made too dear a sacrifice, so I might live.” The bottomless well of pain and grief he glimpsed in her eyes stirred his sympathy. For a brief moment, she actually allowed him to draw her close and offer her comfort. But all too quickly, she pulled away.

She went to the bed to don her robe then strode to the French doors leading out onto the balcony. He rose to stop her. She stood gripping the doorknobs, her forehead resting against the wood, her slender body taut with emotion.

He laid a hand upon her shoulder. “You can’t run away from your pain, Katherine.”

“If I could just get clear enough to breathe, maybe it would ease.”

“Your brother, was he very much like you?” he asked trying to distract her.

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “In looks, yes.

Johnny had an insatiable appetite for knowledge. He would have enjoyed your ship and would have made a nuisance of himself asking questions about it.” She straightened, and though no tears were in evidence, she appeared pale. “If you will summon a maid to refill the lamp, I can sleep in the dressing room upon the day bed.”

He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on why that idea displeased him so much. “You survived last night

unscathed, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but—“

“When the servants make the bed in the morning, they’ll believe we are at odds with one another or worse yet, that I’ve mistreated you in some way.”

“I had not thought of that.” After a pause, she said,

“Then…I must insist you wear something more to bed than what God blessed you with, Captain.” The stiff formality in her tone made him grin. “I wasn’t aware a little bare skin had caused you such distress, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“Surely you see the need to be sensible about this, Matthew. Though I had a brother, he was not in the habit of parading about unclad.”

His grin broke out into a smile. “I suppose not. There was a custom in America that you might find interesting, Katherine. It was a courting ritual between sweethearts that became popular just before the war.”

“We are not sweethearts.”

He smiled at the tenacity of her reminder. “But this may solve our problem.”

She eyed him quizzically as he strode to the bed. He threw back the heavy quilts and folded the sheet in half to one side then spread the covers back into place. “I don’t intend to be stitched into the sheet but this may ease your mind to some degree.” He straightened from the task. “It was called bundling. The man would be stitched into the sheet to insure he wouldn’t touch his beloved during the night. The purpose was to allow them time to know one another in privacy without the proprieties being dismissed.”

Her violet eyes glinted with disbelief.

“’Tis true.”

“You are expecting a great deal of trust on my part, Captain.”

“No more than I’m willing to give you, Katherine. I didn’t take advantage of you while you slept.” She looked away, two bright red spots of color staining her cheeks. “Are we to travel the same path over and over?”