Captives' Charade (38 page)

She laid a place for him at the head of the dining table, and one for herself at the foot, wishing she could eat in the kitchen, far away from his presence.

She’d taken only a mouthful when, his food untouched, he spoke in a tight, restrained voice. “Were you planning to let me know?”

The question surprised her, giving her no time for tact or evasion. “No,” she whispered.

Stewart stared at her in silence. When she could stand his piercing gaze no longer, her eyes dropped again to her food. As she did so, his fist came down on the table with a ferocious bang. The pewter ware clattered and Sarah, strung taut as a bow, nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Hell’sbells,Sarah.Thatis my child! You have no right to deny me the courtesy of at least letting me know of its existence. If you weren’t pregnant, I’d wring your neck!”

Not nearly as frightened as she was infuriated by his outburst, Sarah shouted, “This is my baby, Stewart Chamberlain! There were no vows spoken between us. We are not married and you have no rights or responsibilities concerning this child. You can’t even prove it is yours,” she blurted, “but there is no doubt that it is mine!”

“I have no doubts about its parentage,” Stewart rejoined angrily, daring her with his furious gaze, “and neither have you! I told you, madam,” he added, his deep voice thundering, “that if a child should come from our relations, that I would take full responsibility. Surely you remember that!”

“Indeed I do!” Sarah retorted. “But I don’t want your money. I don’t want this child to have your name, and furthermore, I wish to God you had never shown your face here!” Immediately she burst into tears, totally relinquishing any advantage her words might have given her.

Sobbing into her dinner napkin, Sarah released all the emotions pent up within her since she had witnessed his totally unexpected arrival. The longing had not died; it had only lain dormant, and she was sick with the fresh pain, knowing that he would be forced now to deal with her honorably and that his actions would have nothing to do with his heart – only his conscience. And she was still so lovesick that a very large part of her was rejoicing that he was here and would have to stay because of what they had created in their breathless, heedless passion so many months ago.

But this child she was carrying had made her stronger than she ever believed she could be. Maybe, just maybe she could survive the onslaught of his overpowering presence – now that she wasn’t alone to face it anymore.

Sni ffling,sheraisedherhead,wipingher red-rimmed indigo eyes in order to meet his gaze clearly. The look he returned was puzzling, a disturbing mixture of concern and bafflement – and something else that brought her quicksilver temper to the fore.

“Don’t you dare, Stewart Chamberlain!” she choked. “Don’t you dare pity me.” Seeing his mouth drop open, she rushed on. “I have taken a lot from you since we had the misfortune of meeting, including your seed. And perhaps you haven’t had time to notice, but I am a great deal stronger than that stupid young girl you once tried to seduce in my mother’s gardens. No thanks to you, I have survived everything that has happened to me since we met, and until you galloped into my life two hours ago, I was handling my affairs very well, thank you. You can ride right out of here now and it wouldn’t make one whit of difference to me,” she lied. “Only a handful of people know whose baby this truly is, and I can live very comfortably and respectably without having her real father own up to his indiscretions.

“So,” she finished, rising regally from the table, “don’t you dare say or do anything because you feel sorry for me. You’d be better off to leave than to try.”

Tossing her napkin on the table for emphasis, Sarah, her jaw set, turned abruptly to stomp toward the bedroom. Again, she was not followed, and this time she was relieved, for the effort to make her point had exhausted her. Closing the door firmly behind her, she sighed and practically fell onto the soft bed, shaking with emotional fatigue. As she drifted into a muchcraved slumber, she thought again how every crisis in her life paled in comparison to the turmoil caused by the love she bore for the man in the next room.

The bedroom was dark, save for the dull glow of a solitary lantern on the bedside table. Sarah snuggled deeper into the fold of the heavy wool afghan that had been placed over her, as she woke to the persistent patter of rain on the window.

“Ibroughtyousomemilk,”adeepvoicefrom the shadows spoke. “You did not touch your supper. I thought you needed something.”

Sarah groggily pushed herself up from the downy soft bed, not ungrateful for the strong hands that quickly came to her aid. Moving in her present condition wasn’t nearly as easy as it used to be. She avoided the dark gaze upon her as Stewart arranged the pillow more comfortably, then handed Sarah the tall mug of warm goat’s milk. She drank without comment, waiting for him to speak.

When he did, it was with some relief that Sarah recognized a tenderness returning to his voice. “You are quite a woman, Lady Sarah Tremont,” he intoned softly, watching her from the chair he’d placed close to the bed. “I admit I was more than a bit surprised to find you here today ....”

“Then no one told you?” Sarah asked, surprised. She’d assumed that Peggy had leapt at the opportunity Stewart’s early return to Boston had provided to maneuver them into a confrontation, even though it was obvious that Sarah’s condition had remained a secret, as she had demanded.

“Jeremiah told me you’d gone to visit relatives in Philadelphia. No doubt at your insistence,” he added wryly, not expecting confirmation. “I was disappointed, a fact you may or may not wish to believe, and decided to come here for a while. To cool my heels, you might say.”

Sarah’s heart gave a lurch at the last remark. “Damn it, Sarah,” he sighed, moving forward to peer into her shadowed face. “God’s truth is, I missed you. I remembered a lot more than I meant to about us, including what a self-righteous, arbitrary little spitfire you could be when you had your hackles raised. But that always seemed to pale when I remembered some of our better moments, like the night you begged me to ....”

“Stop it,” Sarah cried out, covering her burning ears with shaking fingers.

“Why, Sarah? Why do you fight it so?” Stewart persisted, moving his large frame onto the bed beside her and laying a restraining hand on her shoulders as she tried to turn away. “Do you have some romantic notion that every man and woman find such rapture and fulfillment beneath a shared blanket? Do you think I am talking about something either one of us could find with anyone else?” He waited but she refused to take the bait. “Well, I’m not,” he answered his own question. “And since I am the only one of us who could make a judgment, I am asking you to consider that it may be something worth marrying me for ... besides what I can offer you materially.”

“You are loathsome,” Sarah hissed, heartbroken at his crude offer of sex and money, when all she wanted, needed, was his love. “I do not need to marry for what you offer. I had one before we met and the other is the only reason you’re asking at all. Tell me this: If I were not with child, would you have ever mentioned the word ‘marry’ today – or tomorrow – or ever?”

He didn’t speak, so she continued, fueled by her disappointment. “You’re such a blackguard. I am sure the thought of a bastard doesn’t faze you. So what is it, Stewart? Are you feeling the need for an heir to leave your great fortune to?” she spat sarcastically. “Is that why you can offer marriage without gagging?” Furious, she tried to wrestle herself away from his suddenly painful grip.

But he wouldn’t let go. “No you don’t, you little hellcat,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Motherhood hasn’t blunted your claws one bit, has it? You still believe I am a scoundrel and even an honest proposal won’t make you believe otherwise. Well, since you think the worst of me anyway, I’ve nothing to lose by doing this.”

And to her horror, he did what she most feared. His mouth came down on hers, hard and bruising, as he folded his arms around her in a captive embrace. He was ruthless, wasting no time in exploring the sweet depths of her mouth with his tongue. She struggled in vain to stave off his practiced assault, but in his anger he was devastating, using every sensuous onslaught he knew her to be vulnerable to. As she lay imprisoned, he managed to free one hand to stroke her cheek, her neck, and the sensitive places around her ear. And then, as she was swimming in the forbidden rapture of his kiss that had suddenly turned tender and teasing, she felt his fingers move down the buttons of her gown.

Shesobbed,wrenchingherswollenlipsfrom his. “Stewart, you can’t! Not now, not like this,” she pleaded. “The baby!”

“That baby,’ he whispered ruthlessly, ‘is going to be a bastard unless I can convince you that marriage to me is not only something you can tolerate, but enjoy.” His hand continued its relentless trail down over her breasts and protruding abdomen, exposing the chemise that remained between her and his exploring fingers. “Tell me you’ve forgotten,” he taunted her, his full lips raining kisses on her face and neck, to the skin above her chemise. “Tell me you don’t want me to make love to you ever again.” For his answer, he took her lips in a soul-searching kiss as his gentle fingers explored the heaviness of her swollen breasts.

His ardor was too much to bear. He was bringing back all the feelings Sarah had willed herself to forget. “Please don’t do this,” she sobbed as his hand gently trailed along her full belly.

Stewart’s dark eyes moved over her face that was illuminated by the candle’s glow, but he wasn’t seeing her. Sarah was strangely mesmerized by his far-off look that was fixed upon her – but not. And then he spoke softly, in an unusually muffled, emotion-filled voice.

“My son beckons for some consideration,” he whispered almost reverently. And it was then that Sarah noticed that his large hand had stopped its sensuous movements and was spanning her belly, which was fluttering with the life it nurtured inside.

A slow, ridiculously proud smile overtook Stewart’s face as he watched his fingers bounce and sway. “Look how strong he is,” Stewart cried softly, completely overtaken by the miracle beneath his hand.

“She,” Sarah replied gently, with a firmness that brooked no argument.

 

“What?” he replied distractedly, dragging his eyes back to her.

 

“She,” Sarah repeated patiently. “It’s a girl.”

Stewart looked confused for a moment, and a grin creased his handsome features. “And how is it you know this for sure?”

“I am her mother and have borne her these past six months,” Sarah rejoined smugly, but without rancor. “You may wish to call it sorcery, but I know it is a girl.”

Stewart then chuckled indulgently. “I prefer to call it your contrariness. You think perhaps a daughter would disappoint me?” He paused, scanning her firm-set mouth for the truth that it indeed bore. “No, Sarah. ‘Twill do you no good to lump me with those who consider females less desirable progeny. A daughter would please me well, even” he added intimately, “if she were only half as beautiful and intelligent as her mother.”

He kissed her again, this time with a lovingness that stirred her immeasurably more than his passion had only moments ago. With a fateful sigh, her arms crept around his neck as he fitted himself more comfortably to her contours, letting his hands softly study her new shape. He had called her beautiful, and hadn’t bolted upon seeing her with child. Indeed, he seemed most pleased about the entire situation. Sarah could not fight the feeling of delirious contentment.

No, he didn’t love her, but his actions were loving, and Sarah admitted that they counted for a great deal.

“Sarah?” he called gently, bringing her out of her pleasant reverie.

 

“Mmm?”sheanswereddrowsily,druggedby his tenderness.

 

“I’m going to get the preacher to marry us tomorrow.”

 

“Mmm,” she replied, feigning apathy, though her heart quickened with his words.

“For now,” he continued in a husky, nervetingling voice, “I think I will spend the night convincing you not to change your mind ....” CHAPTER 38

Sarahyawnedsleepily,feelingsmugand contented beneath the down comforter that fit like a cocoon about her bare flesh. Refusing to open her eyes to the pale light, she listened to the hypnotic rainfall outside.

Curling her limbs around her smooth, firm belly, Sarah hugged herself, quite convinced that nothing could ever equal the happiness she felt at this moment. Her soon-to-be husband had left earlier with orders to sleep as long as she wished, while he had gone to do the chores, which would be followed by a trip to the nearest village to invite the preacher to call in the afternoon.

Sarah smiled to herself, enjoying the delicious memories of the night before. Reluctant to make love because of the baby, nevertheless Stewart had persuaded her that there was much to do in the way of becoming reacquainted with each other’s bodies. And they had, during what Sarah considered to be the most romantic night she had ever spent with her handsome, virile, considerate lover.

And today he was going to be her husband in a real marriage, not one that had been forged merely by two people signing a piece of paper.

It was going to be a wonderful marriage, Sarah mused, if last night were any indication. Stewart had been gentle, tender, patient, and when he wasn’t concentrating on her, he had been most enthusiastic about the child they would soon have. No small wonder was this miracle to him, and he seemed genuinely eager to become a real father.

The sound of distant hoof beats suddenly broke Sarah’s revelry, and with a gasp at her own laziness, she struggled out from under the covers. It must be quite late if Stewart were back already from the village! Pushing herself to the side of the bed, she scanned the room for a robe but could find none.

With a shudder born of the chill, she pulled herself out of bed and pattered to the wardrobe to find a wrapper. She was still shaking and searching when the door swung open and there was Stewart, looking damp and breathless but not much the worse for wear.

Surprisedbyhissuddenappearance,Sarah blushed, pulling the skirt of one of her gowns out of the closet to cover herself.