Patricia Hagan (31 page)

Hands on hips, she began, “You pompous, arrogant, bastard! Just who the hell do you think you are? You think I
deceived
you? I will remind you,
I
am not the one who walked away from Vicksburg without a word.

“Tell me,” she shrilled, long hair bouncing around her face as she tossed her head, “who was bedding Lisa Lou Pollock all the time he was fawning after me? Begging me to forgive you for tricking me into thinking you fought for the South, while all the while you were a no-good, yellow-bellied, goddamn Yankee dog!”

His eyes went darker and darker with fury. “Holly, I’m warning you to get out of here.”

“I’ll leave when I’m through telling you what kind of man you are.
Man
!” She spat the word contemptuously. “You’re nothing but a sneak. A liar.

“Yes,” she rushed on. “I married Roger Bonham, and many a night he made me wish I was dead. But
I had no choice
, you bastard. My mother is dying. He was going to kick us out of the house, maybe put her in an institution, let her die there.” Tears began streaming down her face, and she brushed them away furiously. Damn it, tears were a sign of weakness. “I never,” she said evenly, “stopped loving you, Scott Colter, until you turned your back on me and I found out just what an egotistical, insensitive monster you really are.” She turned toward the door. “I’ll go now. I pray I never have to look at your arrogant face again.”

He caught her, pinning her arms to her sides. Smiling, he whispered, “If I had a bar of lye soap, I’d wash your mouth out.”

He threw her on the bunk and fell on top of her. “I’m sorry, Holly. I truly am. I guess a lot of the things you said about me are true, but…there’s much you don’t know.” He took a long breath. “Right now, we both need…” He kissed her and the fire was ignited. The flames spread, and neither could stop those flames. She pulled him close, closer.

The ship rolled and pitched, gently moving Scott and Holly into their union, rocking them as they moved together into the love that could not, would not, be denied.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A perfect golden moon, framed by silver clouds, threw its light across the water, making the sea sparkle as though dusted with diamonds.

A gentle wind caressing them, Scott and Holly stood at the railing. His arm was around her, and she pressed her head against his chest. “Are you happy?” he whispered.

“I never knew I could be so happy,” she whispered back, “never dreamed I could feel this way.”

The rolling sea lulled her, and she sighed, “If only Mother could get well, everything would be perfect. I’m afraid she’s getting weaker. She never says a word, but I know she’s more tired than she was a week or so ago. She even seems to be swelling, despite being so thin.”

Scott tightened his arm around her. “I don’t know anything about Bright’s disease, but from what you told me, I’m afraid you can’t expect anything different.”

Her entire body began shuddering, and she said, “I want her at home, Scott. She shouldn’t be anyplace except home. Will it be much longer?”

“Two days,” he said, “maybe three.”

She pressed closer, enveloped by his warm glow.

Their first night together, they’d stayed awake talking until dawn. Holly explained how Roger had managed to enslave her, vulnerable as she was. She had not, however, confided the depth of degradation and misery suffered in his bed, for these nightmares would never be trespassed on, even by her.

When it was his turn, Scott confided everything about himself and his secret army mission. She was horrified. “Why didn’t you tell me before? You
knew
why those men were trying to run me off my land. Why, Roger even had me believe it was poor Jarvis! He told me Jarvis was responsible for Sally and Norman’s murders.” She stared at him, wide eyes glimmering. “How could you have kept that from me?”

“Because you were in enough danger without having that knowledge. I couldn’t risk either the investigation or you.”

He went on to confide that, when they arrived in Vicksburg, he and Neil were going to have a few trusted soldiers with them and be ready when Roger returned, which he would eventually do.

On another subject, he stated, “I’m not going to apologize for anything between me and Lisa Lou, but you may be sure there wasn’t any rape. I don’t deny I have a past. Yes, there have been other women—and none of them had anything to do with you.”

Yes, Holly told herself silently, gazing out at the sea, other women had loved him, answered the hunger in his body. But that was the past. It was today and tomorrow that mattered, and she wanted to be the only woman he wanted.

He brought her out of her reverie with a kiss. “I don’t have to ask. I know what you’re thinking. I can
feel
your jealousy.” He smiled. “Come on. I am going to prove to you once and for all that I will never need any woman but you.”

He took her to his cabin, closed the door, and locked out the world.

She was wearing a simple, pale green muslin dress, the collar reaching nearly to her chin. He lowered his head, and, as his fingers deftly unfastened each tiny button, his mouth and tongue touched her throat, setting her on fire.

She closed her eyes, yielding to his every caress, and when she was naked, he carried her to the bunk and quickly removed his own clothing.

She watched him, marveling once again at the perfection of his body—the broad chest, wide, muscular shoulders, long, strong legs.

Her gaze went to his rock-hard thighs, then, slowly, to his swollen, eager manhood, the epitome of his perfection.

She held out her arms to him eagerly, but he shook his head. “No,” he whispered huskily. “You give me so much of everything, my darling. Tonight, I intend to give to you.”

He spread her thighs and lowered his head. At the first thrust of his tongue, she gasped, “Scott, no, please.”

“Yes,” he said fiercely. “Yes. Tonight you are mine, to love any way I want to, and this is how I want to love you. I want to taste the sweetness of your body, kiss every inch of you, drink the nectar of your love. Relax, little one, and take everything I have to give.”

She felt the pulsation begin deep within, and then it was rushing forth, exploding in a sensation never felt so intensely. Her fingers wrapped in his thick black hair as he devoured her, her back arched with the spine-wrenching force of orgasm. But he mercilessly continued his onslaught, savoring her as though she were a delicious fruit, consuming her again and again.

“No, no, I can’t take any more, Scott,
please
.”

He ignored her protests, taking her to the ultimate crest again and again, and still he did not relent. His driving hunger was to satisfy her totally.

Holly was utterly spent, unable even to raise her head from the pillow. Finally, she mustered her strength and raised herself, pushing him from her. She lowered herself to him and took him with her warm mouth, driving him to his own frenzy, till he had no choice but to mount her and drive them both to the summit.

Afterward, he held her against him fiercely.

“Now do you understand?” His voice seemed to light up the dark cabin. “There’s nothing left for me to give another woman. You are all I want, and I love you.”

When Holly entered her mother’s cabin, she frowned at the breakfast tray. “How can you expect
not
to feel weak when you won’t eat, Mother? I asked the galley to prepare your eggs just the way you like them, but you’ve hardly eaten a bite.”

Claudia shrugged, teasing, “Look at you. You’re positively glowing, Holly. Has someone captured your heart at last? I do wonder who that someone is.” She touched a finger to her cheek and pretended to be deep in thought.

Holly blushed hotly. Did it show that she had spent the night in passion? Oh, lord, she hoped not. This was her
mother.
Averting her gaze, she declared, “You do have an imagination, I must say. I like fresh air, occasionally, so I left my cabin and—”

“Don’t.”

Holly glanced at her. “Don’t?”

“Don’t be coy with me, Holly. I know you better than you think. Why won’t you tell me about Colonel Colter and your love?”

Suddenly Holly was wrenched by the need to tell her. “Yes,” she cried. “Yes, Mother, I do love him—and he loves me. I didn’t know I could be so happy. And it’s not wrong, even if I am legally married to Roger. I never loved him. I—”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me,” Claudia laughed, propping herself up on her pillows, happiness renewing her vigor. “I think I’ve always known there was something between you two, but I couldn’t quite decide whether it was love, or hate. There’s a very thin wall between the two, you know.”

Holly nodded. “I think I always knew I loved him, but I was too stubborn to admit it. Besides, there were a lot of terrible things going on in my life then, and there was never time to smooth things out.”

Claudia hated having to point it out, but she had to. “Roger may not agree to a divorce. And he’s going to be furious about your running away.”

Stressing the need for absolute secrecy, Holly told Claudia about Scott’s investigation, and her mother listened, wide-eyed. Finally she cried, “It all makes sense now! What Jarvis was telling me falls into place. Roger had the gold hidden, and maybe even spent some by then. He knew he was wealthy, so he didn’t need Jarvis’s money. That’s why he became more and more belligerent. Dear God”—she closed her eyes—“I’m thankful Jarvis didn’t live to find out what his son really is.”

Holly nodded absently. Poor Jarvis. He’d been mistreated by his son and misunderstood by her. She was sorry there was nothing she could do about it now. She couldn’t even apologize to him.

They talked for a few minutes more, then Holly rose. “Let me go down to the galley and get a cup of hot tea for you, Mother. Will you drink it?”

Claudia nodded. She didn’t want the tea, knew she couldn’t eat anything, but, for Holly’s sake, she would try.

When the door closed behind Holly, Claudia squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears sting. Oh, did they all think she was terribly stupid? Did they think she didn’t know there was something invading her body, something that was making her weaker every day? And she could see the swelling, feel it. Yet they meant to keep it from her.

She was dying.

So, soon she would be going to a far better place. After all, she had loved two wonderful men and been loved in return. She had a beautiful, adoring daughter. Life had been good. With all the sadness, the heartaches, life had been good.

But she did not want the time to come just yet, no. She would know when the time was right…was not about to give in until then. Until that time there was something she had to do. What? Why did she have the certain feeling that she was being kept on the earth for a purpose?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Holly wearily pushed a strand of hair back under her bandanna. Autumn had a steady grip on the temperature, but she was perspiring nonetheless. It had been a hard day. Not only were there chores to be done outside the house, there was plenty to do inside. She had spent several hours giving the newly hired help their instructions, and then there was Artie, the new overseer, to be shown around.

Beside her, he questioned, “You got anybody to do the shoddin’?” He gestured to the stalls and the expensive thoroughbreds within.

She glanced at him apologetically. “I don’t know. When we left for Jamaica, Mr. Bonham just closed the house and left Barney Phillips in charge of the stock. From the looks of things, Phillips did a good job, but I don’t know exactly what he did, or who did what.”

Artie nodded. “I’ll check on it.” His face softened. “Don’t worry, in a few days, we’ll have everything running smoothly, Mrs. Bonham.”

“Maxwell,” she corrected crisply. “I prefer that you call me Miss Maxwell.”

“Yes’m,” he murmured, without further comment. He knew the gossip, but he didn’t figure it was any of his business. He was glad to have the job, glad she had confidence in him. Artie had been a good friend of Norman’s, and he knew Holly Maxwell’s fine reputation.

Wearily, she asked, “Is there anything else we need to go over, Artie? I need to get back to the house.”

“No’m,” he responded. “I’m going to ride into town and order some things we need. I won’t get back before dark anyway, so I was thinking about just stayin’ in town and visitin’ my sister—if it’s all right. I’ll come back first thing in the morning.”

“Of course. Take all the time you need, Artie.” She gave him a hurried smile and headed back to the house.

It had been three days since their return to the house. What a strange arrival it had been. After spending one night with Abby, her mother and she had simply come home. No fanfare. No fireworks, either. Scott checked the house and grounds thoroughly, but there’d been no one around.

Holly sent word to Betty, one of the servants who had worked at the mansion before Jarvis’s death, and the next morning Betty and a full staff had arrived, a couple of the white servants and several Negroes. So Scott left, and Holly took up the running of the house.

Early the next morning, Barney Phillips had showed up.

“Where’s Mr. Bonham?” he demanded as he planted himself in the entrance foyer, glancing around with narrowed eyes. “He didn’t tell me you were comin’ back.”