Caroline (2 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Wright

BOOK: Caroline
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Chapter 1

 

One could hardly imagine a more perfect October day, for the autumn of 1783 had painted the Connecticut landscape in her most glorious colors. The low mountains were a riot of flaming oranges, reds, and yellows which contrasted sharply with the clear azure of the sky. The air had a clean chill to it, and Alexandre Beauvisage, winding his way between the trees astride a handsome stallion, felt very good indeed. He had been brimming with a rich euphoria ever since the final Peace Treaty had been signed in Paris just weeks ago. The last eight years of war had been long but victory made all the bloodshed and tragedy seem worthwhile. The cost of freedom had been high, but that shining prize belonged to America at last.

Granted, the British had laid down their arms to General Washington at Yorktown in 1781. Only the most sporadic fighting had occurred since then, and the majority of the American soldiers had been able to go home to their families long ago.

Alec grimaced as he thought back. All through the Revolutionary War, he'd only occasionally played the part of soldier. Instead, his role had been a mixture of spy and scout and he had been given the trickiest and most dangerous assignments.

Despite the terrible aspects of war, Alec had to concede that there was a certain thrill in the role he played. He'd roamed the swamps of South Carolina with Frances Marion, captained a sleek privateer, and drunk cognac with Washington and Lafayette on the banks of the Hudson. He had been required to put his ingenuity and intelligence to full use, and the constant danger had been stimulating. Perhaps the return to full-time everyday life would prove boring?

Alec's reverie was broken when he glimpsed a bright patch of color atop the low stone wall that snaked through the woods. Bringing his horse, Ivan, to a stop, he dismounted and walked back to discover a packet of garments drawn hastily together inside a piece of bottle-green silk. Before he could open it, a soft moan rose from the trees to his left. Instantly alert, Alec followed the noise and soon spotted its source—a small form lying at the foot of a bright maple tree about two dozen feet away. Cautiously, he drew a pistol from his belt and moved forward. From a distance, the figure appeared to be that of an unconscious young boy. The lad wore ill-fitting gray breeches, a loose white work smock, and an oversized dark-green tricorn hat which obscured his face.

Drawing near, Alec replaced his pistol and knelt down beside the still form. His dark brows came together at the sight of two suspiciously lovely shapes outlined against the loose shirt.

"What the devil?" he muttered in bewilderment while drawing off the green hat. Lustrous honey-colored hair spilled out over the rusty leaves and Alec let out a low whistle as he bent over the girl's face. She looked little more than eighteen, and for a moment he felt that he must be dreaming. The girl had the face of an angel. Her eyes were fringed by long lashes that brushed her creamy skin. Alec's gaze came to rest on appealing lips. Gently, he raised her head and cradled it in his arms.

"Can you hear me?" he asked softly, but received no response.

Almost instinctively, he tipped her chin up with his forefinger and grazed her mouth with his own. When he felt a faint answer from her lips, he drew back with a wry smile and thought, Who do you think you are, Beauvisage—a damned Prince Charming?

Then, with a sigh and a grin, he muttered aloud, "What do you suppose I've got myself into this time?"

* * *

The girl felt as if she was gliding down to earth from a great height, and seemed to touch ground with only the smallest jolt. She opened her eyes slowly and looked up into a most compelling face. It was tanned, lean, and so handsome, framed by shining raven-black hair drawn casually back into a queue. The man wore a close-trimmed beard, but it failed to disguise his charming half-smile or the contrast of his gleaming white teeth with tanned skin. Above a straight nose gleamed eyes of an amazing turquoise color which held her own almost against her will. As she became more fully conscious she realized that she felt no fear, although he held her in his arms and his muscles were hard against her cheek.

Alec, for his part, found himself looking into warm caramel-brown eyes flecked with gold. The girl was simply exquisite!

"M'lady, I would be extremely gratified if you could attempt to explain your presence here. I must confess to a curiosity that grows stronger by the minute!"

As the girl struggled to sit up, Alec braced her with his arm. Gingerly, she raised a hand to touch what proved to be a lump on the side of her head. He gently parted her glossy hair and looked closely at the swollen area. His forehead creased at the sight of the nasty bump and a patch of dried blood.

"You are hurt. You must tell me what happened to you. What is your name and where do you come from?"

The girl covered her eyes as though collecting her thoughts. Then, slowly, she drew her hand away, her eyes brimming with sudden tears.

"Oh, sir—I don't seem to be able to remember! I cannot recall a thing—not even my own name!"

* * *

Several minutes of questioning brought Alec no closer to the truth. He surmised that the girl had probably been riding and caught her head on a low-hanging branch. Perhaps something had frightened the horse, causing her to lose control. At any rate, the steed was gone, and Alec was left with an injured woman-child dressed in boys' clothing who had no memory of her past.

He had propped her up against the stone wall and was pacing through the crisp leaves. The girl was alternately investigating the contents of the green silk bundle and watching Alec stride to and fro. He moved with a natural grace and suppressed strength that were easy to admire. His fawn breeches were close-fitting and showed the play of long muscles in his thighs with each step he took. Leather boots, softly buffed, rose to his knees, and a linen shirt was unlaced halfway to reveal his hard chest.

Suddenly the girl's soft voice broke the rhythm of Alec's rustling stride through the leaves.

"Sir, you wouldn't be a pirate by chance, would you? Perhaps you're ashore to bury your treasure...?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "What gives you that outrageous notion?"

"You look the way I suppose pirates must look. Quite swashbuckling and adventurous! Rather unscrupulous, too." She broke off at the sight of his sudden grin. "I'm sorry about that last. It wasn't a very nice thing to say, was it?"

Alec dropped down beside her and clasped one soft hand between his strong ones.

"Don't apologize. I must confess that you hit quite near the truth. My father was indeed a pirate—a French buccaneer of the first water. If the war had not intervened, perhaps I would have followed in his footsteps!" Alec's smile held a hint of mockery, but there was warmth in his eyes. They darkened, however, as the problem at hand returned to his thoughts. Gesturing at the clothes which lay on the piece of green silk, he asked:

"You don't see anything there that sparks your memory?" He had already been through the bundle himself, but found little that looked informative. There was another simple white smock, one of the loose shirts worn by Colonial men as part of their working attire. Also inside the bundle were a few items of well-made underclothing, a lacy fichu, and some dainty shoes. Lastly, there was a lovely gown, simple but pretty, the color of buttercups and trimmed in lace. Inside of it were wrapped a fine china hairbrush, two satin ribbons, and a bar of scented soap.

The girl looked up at Alec and shook her head in bewilderment. "I cannot place a thing. This is all so confusing—and frightening! Sir, what will you do with me?" Suddenly, tears gleamed in her brown eyes.

Alec reached out and gathered her into his arms. Although he was uncomfortably conscious of her breasts pressing against his chest, he managed to stroke her hair in a brotherly fashion.

"What did you imagine I would do—leave you here alone in the woods? I may look unscrupulous, but you will find I have a streak of decency! You shall come with me back to my home and we'll find out who you are. In the meantime, perhaps you'll recover your memory."

Impulsively, she hugged him, and Alec could smell the sweetness of clover in her rich hair. Her voice was warm with excitement in his ear:

"How can I thank you for your kindness?"

He could think of a few ways, but feared that none of them would meet with her approval. He could not resist smiling to himself as the girl loosened her grasp on him to look up and ask:

"Could you please tell me your name? And what shall my own be?"

"Ah, yes! Forgive me for neglecting to introduce myself. I am known as Alexandre Beauvisage, but you must call me Alec. As for your own name, it should be your choice."

A smile lit her face, revealing dimples. "How lovely—being able to choose one's own name! And yours is wonderful and most fitting. 'Handsome face'!"

He colored beneath his beard and bit his lip. "Yes, unfortunately, that is the French meaning. A constant source of embarrassment to me, I assure you."

"But why? Certainly it is perfect for you! It would only prove embarrassing if you were a homely man, I should think."

Alec relaxed and was chuckling softly when a sudden realization struck him. "You must have some education in the French language. You know, that's no small accomplishment for a female, especially one who has grown up during a time of war in a relatively undeveloped country. You must have come from a good family...." His voice trailed off and he frowned. "Why, I wonder, were you running away?"

"Do you think that is what I was doing?"

"My dear, that is the only reasonable conclusion I can draw from this rather inexpert disguise. Also, you were far off the main road, miles from the nearest house. I can't imagine what you were planning to do before you had this accident, and I feel certain that you were well on your way to being hopelessly lost." He paused. "I suspect that you were running away in great haste from someone or something. Your belongings were quickly assembled... and you were taking an escape route to which you could not have given much thought. As a matter of fact, you must have deliberately crossed over the Boston Post Road some miles back."

He glanced over at the girl next to him only to find her in perfect profile, staring dreamily into space. He lifted one honey-colored curl from her shoulder and flicked it across her tilted nose. His voice held a note of ironic amusement.

"You do wonders for a man's ego. I can see that you hold my conversation in high esteem!"

"Please do not be offended!" Relief spread across her face at the sight of his flickering smile. "You are teasing me! I was thinking about my name. I've made a choice." She moved closer to him and paused for dramatic effect. "It is... Caroline. Don't you think it's lovely?"

She spoke the syllables with such warmth that the name Caroline did indeed sound beautiful. His face softened as he regarded this girl who was smiling at him so radiantly in the midst of what should have been a terrible crisis. It occurred to him that most young ladies of his acquaintance would probably be carrying on quite hysterically if they were in Caroline's position. She was lost, unable to remember anything, and perhaps worst of all, left in the woods with only a hot-blooded rogue to rely on. Gently, he touched her cheek and smiled.

"I believe that you have chosen a perfect name, little Caro."

* * *

Twilight gathered quickly and air grew chilly. Caroline and Alec were both astride the black stallion, Ivan, who was patiently making his way through the trees. She sat in front and Alec held her securely around her petite waist. His nearness unnerved her, and during all the hours they had been riding she had found it difficult to think, though heaven knew she had plenty to think and worry about! She realized that the discomfort she felt wasn't because he repulsed her; instead, it seemed that all her senses were filled with him. His arm was strong and her skin seemed to tingle beneath it. She would watch his brown hand holding the reins and find herself fascinated by its deft movements. She was leaning into his broad chest and his chin brushed the top of her head. She thought he smelled wonderful.

Riding into a clearing, Alec brought Ivan to a stand-still and Caroline came back down to earth.

"Well
,"
he inquired lightly, "how does this strike you as an inn? Ceilings of tree branches and carpets of leaves are the latest fashion, I'm told."

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