Light to Valhalla (18 page)

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.

Alone at last,
Charley
shirked the silken wrapper
, ran a palm over
the garish bruise of
Johnston
’s hand
imprinted on her upper arm,
an
d stuck a toe into the steamy bathwater
.
“
Ow
!
”
I
ntense heat
shocked up her leg
.
She shivered involuntarily
.
Gritting her teeth
, she
plunged her foot into the water, submerging one leg up to the knee
.
She waited for the prickles
needling her flesh to subside and put the
other leg in, s
lowly lowering
herself
into
the water
.
Mrs. Kent was right
.
The too hot water seemed to burn the top layer from her
skin
, but
Charley
didn’t care
, all she wanted was to be
clean
.
She surveyed the array of scented soaps, vigorously scrubbing
the stench of the woods and those miserable men from h
er hair and skin.

An hour later
Charley
still
sat in the
tepid
bathwater
,
f
ingers and toes wrinkled, f
eeling rather
water logged and very
down about the recent twist in her life
.

I want to make a go of us
.
Give you and me, this marriage, a real chance…
  The words floated round and round in her mind, refusing to give her peace.

She wanted to believe him
.
He’d certainly sounded genuinely upset arguing with Sid by the stairs
.
A kernel of fool
ish hope budded within her
.
Ridden hard by his father and elder brothers, Alex had set out to prove himself, become a man in their eyes, and for
years she’d clung to the
hope Alex wo
uld
shed the cunnin
g exterior he’d donned
and grow
into the good
,
loving man she knew lurked beneath the surface
, rediscover the sweet, shy boy she’d loved as a child
.
For just a little while
in the woods and thereafter
she’d believed he
ha
d
changed for the better
.

Sidney’s despicable accusation swept through her mind, hot on the heels of the question all but burning a hole in her brain… and heart
.

Obviously
he’d
not
changed
.
Thank the Lord for Sidney, h
e’d been her faithful friend for years
, and knew her
desire for a real marriage
.
Without Sid’s warning she’d no doubt
have fallen quickly for Alex’s charms
.

She rose from the
tub
and
shivered, reaching for the fluffy red towel
draped across the back of the chair
.
She dried off and
slipped into
the discarded
s
ilken wrapper
.
“I’m so tired,
”
she murmured
.
Perhaps everything would be
clear after
a good nap
.
She wandered into her room, running her hand along the dark trim as she had so many times as a child
.
Charley
smiled
.
How comforting the simplest memories could be
.
She plucked a
brush from the vanity and
saw the
ghastly cut
in her forehead
for the first time
.
She flipped a swatch of
unruly
wet
curls over the gash and made a face in the mirror
.
At least her
hair
would be useful
in
concealing the injury
.

Charley
hated her hair
.
The
frizzy too tight curls
were impossible to manage,
and the color of rust
.
Rust
!  Veronica Childers had
made
the comparison when they were but eleven years old
.
Charley
lifted a mass of
tangled
locks
, working the brush
through the ends from the bottom up
.
Her hair was like
everything else about he
r—a
lady but
not
terribly ladylike
…
pretty but
not terribly fashionable given her coloring
…
smart but not
too
intelligent
…
t
hin but too curvy
in the hips and thighs
to be a graceful swan the way women like Veronica were
.
A cruel spear of jealousy
sliced through her
.
A man li
ke Alex, godlike and resplendent in every way
could never want
anyone as ordinary as she
.

Charley
sighed
.

Sidney’s words were
true
.
Alex was home to satisfy Regina’s petition for an heir and nothing more
.
Her heart sank
.
The last thing she wanted in life was to be trapped in a loveles
s marriage
and forever second in line to the woman who’d compared her to rust
.

The small, decorative mahogany box
perched on the corner of the vanity
glared up at her
,
silently scolding her for years of neglect,
the piece begged
to be opened
one last time
.
Charley
knew she should leave the box be, let old memories lie, but… the silver latch winked
in the sunlight
.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.
”
Exasperated
Charley
slapped the silver handled brush onto the vanity top and reached for the jewelry box
.
She smoothed tentative
fingers
over the top of her most prized
gift, swallowing the lump forming in her throat
.

Alex had brought this to her
from Spain,
a gift for
her seventeenth birthday
.
She hadn’t seen him in the three years
since he’d joined the army and when he’d walked through the front door
to surprise her
,
the mere sight of him
so
blessedly sweet
her heart could break
,
she’d known to the depths of her soul she loved him
.
True love
.
Not some
girlish inclination or fantasy
, but the brand of love that inspired bards to sing and angels to swoon
.

Charley
flipped the latch, gently lifting the lid
.
“Hello
,
old friend.
”
Ever so hesitantly she reac
hed into the box, withdrawing the hand carved miniature knight
.
She suspected he’d crafted the piece him
self though he’d never admit it
.

“
So I’ll always be here to rescue you
,” Alex had said with a smile
.

A small, fond smile tugged her lips
.
What had happened between them? 
Tr
agedy an
d arranged marriage
withstanding
.
As children Alex had doted on her, treated her differently… special
.
But, a
fter her seventeenth birthday
everything had changed
.
H
e’d stopped writing her, begun calling
her
Charlotte instead of
Charley
.
Ugh!  She hated to be called Charlotte
.
Forever felt scolded when she heard the name
.

Lost in thought,
Charley
sto
od the knight on top of the box
.
H
owever silly the
notion may be, Alex’s
miniature made her feel safe
.

Quickly she braided her hair
, closed the heavy velvet curtains,
and
threw herself onto the bed
.
A good nap would help to clear her head
.
A good nap and lemon butter scones
.
Charley
burrowed
beneath the
heavy coverlet, arranging the fluffy pillows around her
.
She closed her eyes, waiting for exhaustion to claim her, but one last thought refused to give her peace..
.

Sidney had also mentioned some
thing about General Witherspoon
.
W
hat did the well-
respected commander
have to do with the dire twist of events
?
A chill
cr
ept over her
.
C
ertainly nothing good, and what did it have to do with someone paying to have her killed?

*
             
*
             
*

Charley
started awake, not entirely certain what had disturbed her respite, and surprised she’d managed to sleep at all
.
Perhaps a bad dream?
 
Or a loud noise?
  She blinked fervently, pulling her mind from the dregs of sleep
.
A sliver of afternoon light peaked through a crack in the deep blue curtains and slowly her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting within her room.

The bed
clothes shifted and rustled beside her
.
Charley
shot bolt upright, eyes honing in on the shadowed form of a man
in her bed! 
Johnston
’s d
evil black eyes glowed in her mind
.
“Who’s there?
”
Without waiting for an answer she swung a fat pillow at the intruder, making
swift
contact with the side of his head.

“Jesus,
Charley
?  It’s me!  Alex.
”
A burly arm clamped down on her pillow, thwarting further assault
.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“What am I doing in here?
”
She jerked the pillow still trapped beneath his arm
, heart hammering
,
memories
o
f her kidnapping raw on her nerves
.
“This is my room
.
What are
you
doing in here?”

Alex shifted to his knees on the mattress, tugging back
.
“George brought me up here
.
I took a bath in the washroom and then came in here to take a nap.”

“Oh, did
he
…”

Dear God!
 
Words fizzled on
Charley
’s
tongue and her throat
ran
dry as desert sand
.
Shocked, her
gaze
dropped with the weight of
a
stone
to the lower region of Alex’s oh so trimly muscular frame
.

“
Yo
-you’re—n-n—” she sputtered incoherently
.
“Where are your clothes?”

Alex s
tilled, glancing down briefly, and a cocksure
grin split his face
.
“Did you expect me to sleep in that hot, filthy uniform?”