Authors: Connie Mason
“I’ll bet,” snorted Gwen derisively, exchanging knowing looks with her two friends. “It’s obvious the poor man was trapped into this marriage and now regrets the haste with which he complied with your wishes. Under the circumstances I’d leave, too, the sooner the better.”
“Good afternoon, ladies.” Four heads swiveled to where Adam lounged lazily in the doorway. Though giving the impression of total relaxation, Alexa knew him to be as tightly coiled as a sleek tiger ready to strike.
Gwen’s two companions nodded nervously but Gwen
had the temerity to ask, “How long have you been here, Adam?”
“Long enough,” he answered, cryptically as he uncoiled his lean length and moved on cat feet to Alexa’s side, making a great show of greeting her by pressing a tender kiss on her startled lips. “How nice of you ladies to call,” he continued smoothly. “It gets lonely out here for Alexa.”
“Yes, well … er … just because you chose to wed Alexa doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” Gwen stammered helplessly. “Especially since we all know now why you married her, the poor child.”
“Just why did I marry her. Gwen?” Adam asked in a soft voice that should have warned her.
“Come now, Adam, we’re not blind. Any fool can see Alexa is pregnant. Five or six months, from the looks of her, you devil. What more can I say?”
“You can say that you came here to offer friendship, not criticism. From what I heard you and your friends were quick to condemn. What chance does Alexa have against your malicious gossip?”
“Adam, darling, we meant no insult. It’s just that we were … shocked when Alexa showed up from out of nowhere to claim you. But of course we don’t blame Alexa. Far from it, you rogue. How could she resist you? Even I was not immune.”
Adam was not deceived by Gwen’s sugary words but he smiled in order to ease the tension as the ladies finished their tea. Perversely, Adam chose to remain and the talk did not veer toward the snide innuendos that marked the first part of the visit. Indeed, Adam bestowed such lavish attention on Alexa that Gwen turned green with envy. As soon as was decently possible she ended the visit and, flanked by her twittery friends, departed in a flurry of rustling skirts.
The moment they cleared the door Adam searched Alexa’s face reflectively. “Are you all right?” he finally asked. Miserably, she nodded. “It had to happen sometime, you know. It might be easy to lie about a month or two but a baby that is five months early cannot be so easily explained. Especially one as strong and vigorous as ours shall be.”
Alexa smiled at that. “It doesn’t matter, Adam. Of course, it hurts, but I’ll get used to it.” She was lying and Adam knew it.
In the two weeks since Adam had last seen her she seemed to have blossomed, literally. As sometimes happens to a woman between her fifth and sixth month, she appeared to have grown overnight. All in one direction—outward. He had hoped for a repeat of their wedding night but with a twinge of regret realized that until their child was born he had to put such notions out of his mind. The well-being of his child meant more to him than satisfying his lustful urgings. There were other ways to assuage those yearnings, he thought somewhat guiltily. Savannah was blessed with many good brothels.
“Where have you been, Adam?” Alexa asked in an effort to break the growing silence.
“On a business trip,” Adam was quick to reply.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“There was no time. I received an urgent message early that morning and left almost immediately. Didn’t Forbes call on you?”
“Aye,” acknowledged Alexa with a halfhearted smile. “But I thought … a note … anything …”
“I’m sorry,” apologized Adam. “It’s hard to remember I am no longer a free agent to come and go at will. I’ll try to do better next time.”
“Next time! You mean there will be a next time? Will you be disappearing every few weeks just like you did in England?”
“Aye, Alexa, but I can tell you no more than that.”
“Does it have anything to do with the war?”
“Aye. It’s a well-known fact that the American cause is now aided by the French. Comte de Rochambeau arrived in Newport, Rhode Island, in July. In case you might not know, Newport is occupied by the British.
“Only recently an unsuccessful attempt was made to drive them out with the aid of French Admiral Hector d’Estaing and a French corps. Major battles and skirmishes still abound in that area.”
“What does all this have to do with you?”
“It turns out the British are turning their attention to the weaker colonies in the south where much sentiment rests with the crown,” informed Adam patiently. “From what I gather from Governor Wright the operations in the north are not to cease, but a poweful diversion undertaken with a view to complete conquest of this section of the country. Success here is believed to facilitate further movement to the north. They tried it once in 1776 with an isolated attack upon Charleston, in South Carolina, but were foiled by the unexpected fierce resistance of General William Moultrie.”
“Whose side are you working on. Adam?” Alexa asked quietly. “And what does all this mean to you?”
Eyes narrowed thoughtfully, Adam searched Alexa’s face for several minutes before answering. “I’m on the side of the English, naturally. England is the country of my birth, I lived there the first fifteen years of my life. I am the Earl of Penwell. I may have sold my properties but I am still a loyal subject of King George.”
Alexa frowned. “I don’t remember you as being excessively loyal to England when you were there. From our conversations I assumed your sentiments lay with the colonists.”
“Did I ever say that?”
“No—not exactly. But what about Mac? And … and Fox?” Alexa wanted to know. “I’ve never known more zealous patriots than that pair and you claim them both as friends.”
“Mac and I go back a long way. We would remain friends no matter what.” Adam informed her. “As for Fox. I hardly know the man. I paid him well to do a job for me. And neither of them have ever discussed their loyalties or their plans with me.”
“Somehow I find it hard to believe you’d forsake your adopted country because of a title. Have you no sympathy for these people fighting against political oppression and unfair taxes?”
“Do you? Where does your loyalty lie. Alexa?” Adam asked. “You sound like a proper patriot yourself.”
Alexa flushed, confused. Was it possible for an arrival so new to the colonies to feel empathy for these struggling people? If so, then she surely was on the side of justice. With the sense of conviction that was part of her stalwart character, Alexa replied, “Perhaps I listened to Mac too long, but I sympathize with the colonists who have no rights of their own. I know what fear and oppression feel like. To me, freedom means everything.”
“I take that to mean you are on the side of the rebels.”
“Let’s just say I’m not unsympathetic to their plight. It’s you who are being evasive, Adam. Just what is it you do for the English?” Alexa insisted doggedly.
“If you must know, I offered my services as a courier to Governor Wright. He found he needed someone like me too much to hold a grudge against me for jilting his niece. I know these parts extremely well and am good at slipping around enemy lines.”
Alexa stared at him, aghast. With a start she realized she never really knew Adam. Not only was he a
confirmed royalist but a spy! Even Fox’s pirating ways seemed far preferable to Adam’s covert activities against his own adopted country. Clamping her mouth tightly shut she wisely kept her views to herself.
Adam remained home for two weeks, and in all that time he did not seek Alexa’s bed. She assumed he was occupying one of the guest rooms and could hardly blame him. She was growing larger every day and looked hideous. Even the clever dresses designed by Madam Dubois failed to conceal her bloated body. Not many men cared to make love to an elephant. Alexa thought wryly.
Had Alexa been privy to Adam’s thoughts she would have been startled to learn that despite her rounded girth he fancied her more beautiful now than when he first met her. There was a special glow about her that made her lovelier than ever, at least in his eyes. He longed to make love to her, needed her desperately, but effectively harnessed his desire by throwing himself into his work at the plantation and concentrating on keeping his secret life hidden from Alexa. Much of the time Adam spent in Savannah with his Tory friends, keeping up on the latest developments in the war.
Then, on December 19. Adam came riding home from
Savannah with the news that Colonel Archibald Campbell, with an expeditionary force of 3500 men from Clinton’s army in New York, had captured Savannah, defeating the American force under General Robert Howe. Alexa’s soft heart went out to the Americans as tears came unbidden to her eyes. It was a grievous setback but she felt certain the valiant colonists would not let it defeat them. Especially since they appeared to be made of the same cloth as Mac and Fox.
The following week Alexa learned about General Benjamin Lincoln, succeeding Howe, had undertaken to drive the British out of Georgia, but General Augustine Prevost, who had commanded in Florida, had moved up and compelled Lincoln to retire to Charleston. Prevost, making his headquarters in Savannah, now controlled Georgia. Adam informed Alexa that he had immediately offered his services to General Prevost, which were accepted with alacrity.
“The governor is hosting a ball in General Prevost’s honor next week, Alexa, and we’ve been invited,” Adam informed her grandly.
“Adam!” gasped Alexa, annoyed. “I can’t be seen in public now! Whatever are you thinking?”
“It’s imperative that I attend that ball, Alexa.” Adam frowned.
“Then you’ll have to go alone!” Alexa declared hotly. “I won’t be made the laughing stock of Savannah for you or anyone else.”
“No one will dare laugh at you, Alexa. I’ve already commissioned Madam Dubois to create a dazzling gown for you. You are Lady Foxworth and need fear no one. Besides, I want you with me,” he confessed, stunned when he realized he spoke the truth.
In the end Alexa was persuaded to attend the General’s gala. And when she dressed in the gown
Madam Dubois delivered to her the day of the ball she felt much better about her decision. The woman certainly knew her business.
The color, a true, vivid red, made her flawless skin appear as translucent as a fragile china plate. The dramatic contrast with her ebony hair drew immediate attention from her middle to her face. Fashioned with a empire waist hanging in full folds from just under her breasts, the gown cleverly disguised her pregnancy. Though not hiding it altogether, the gown nevertheless succeeded in minimizing the actual degree of her pregnancy. To further defy the imagination. Madam Dubois had designed a kind of transparent cloak made of the thinest silk to be worn over the dazzling concoction. The results were truly stunning and Alexa appeared to be floating on air as she walked with the cloak swirling about her ankles.
“You’ll be the most beautiful woman at the ball and I’ll be the most envied man,” Adam said, admiration turning his eyes smoky.
Alexa flushed becomingly and turned slowly for his inspection. “You’re sure I look all right, Adam?” she asked anxiously. “You’re not just saying it to make me feel better, are you?”
In answer he drew her into his arms and kissed her as he’d wanted to do for weeks but was afraid to lest he hope control of his senses. Beneath his mouth her lips warmed and parted. Desire riding him mercilessly, his tongue surged between her lips, arrogant and demanding in its possession of her velvet recesses. Reluctantly leaving her clinging lips, his mouth traveled the curve of her cheek, then brushed against the velvet skin of her ear. He drew a shaky breath as his fingers explored the satiny mounds of flesh rising above her low-cut bodice.
Alexa gave herself up to the aura of his masculinity as the heat of his body and the scent of his skin spanned the distance between them to enfold her in a cocoon of sensual delight. It had been so long since he had touched her, since their wedding night, and she vividly recalled the hardness of him pressed against that part of her that ached for him.
Abruptly he pulled away, panting heavily; his face wore a look of amazement. He could not believe he could react so violently to one woman. A pregnant one at that! Was it because he could not have her now? he wondered wryly. Whatever the reason he had to remove himself before he ended up taking what he wanted and risked harming his child.
“My God, Alexa, I can’t understand what it is you do to me!” Adam agonized as he placed her out of temptation’s way. “I have but to touch you and I go crazy. Are you a witch?” Threads of confusion sent his mind reeling and his handsome face twisted in his own agony. With a willpower forged of steel he left the room to compose himself with a few stiff brandies while he waited for Alexa to finish her toilette in preparation for the ball.
Alexa was no less shaken by the encounter with Adam. Her whole body vibrated with a need for consummation. Surely six months wasn’t too far into pregnancy to finish what they began, she rationalized. Then it struck her that she was most certainly correct in her original assumption that making love to a pregnant woman repulsed Adam. Unbidden, she wondered what woman was satisfying his needs, lusty creature that he was. A sudden burst of jealousy so intense that it nearly consumed her rose up to taunt her. Alexa knew a moment of hatred for the woman or women on the receiving end of Adam’s special brand of love.
Adam was well into his third glass of brandy before
Alexa announced herself ready to leave for the ball. While attempting to drown his arousal, he came to the conclusion that until Alexa was able to share his bed, he would visit one of the better brothels in Savannah and engage the services of a whore—maybe two, the way he felt tonight. Perhaps he could manage to send Alexa home alone after the ball in order to indulge his lustful fantasies later. The only problem being that those fantasies usually included his own wife.
The reception for General Prevost proved to be the most elaborate affair Savannah had seen in years. Every prominent Tory, English officer and distinguished citizen for miles around attended the gala. Alexa was relieved to learn that there were far too many other things to interest the gossips for them to pay her much heed. One subject in particular seemed to be on everyone’s tongue—Fox and his
Gray Ghost
. Because he had been active in the area of late, talk was rife concerning the method with which he managed to appear out of nowhere to engage English ships as they left they harbor, then disappearing into thin air—or so it seemed. The price on his head increased as his reputation grew. Alexa hung on every word during the evening until Adam began to look at her strangely.