Rebel Enchantress (11 page)

He had to stop dunking of them, or he wouldn’t be in a decent state to approach her.

Should he go to her now? They weren’t on very good terms, and he had no idea what had made her leave the house. He might say something that would make her run from him.

He didn’t want to do that.

The sound of boots on the coarse, river-bottom sand of the garden pathway warned Delilah that she wasn’t alone. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Nathan approaching. In the moonlight, he looked quite astonishing. His coat and boots faded into the night while his breeches and waistcoat shone ghostly white. He looked like a beautiful statue, perfect in every way.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked as he drew near.

Delilah wanted to shout out that his presence kept her silent, his nearness upset her calm, and the sight of his slim body caused her heart to beat painfully in her chest. She tried to speak, but no sound passed her throat. Uncomfortable, she wanted him to leave, but she was glad he had come.

“I hope you didn’t let their remarks upset you,” Nathan said when she didn’t reply.

He’d think her an idiot if she told him she hardly remembered a word, that she had barely been aware of anyone else form the minute she’d seen him.

She lied. “A little bit.”

“You don’t have to go back.”

It’s all right. My uncle has a tavern. I know what men are like when they drink.”

“Nevertheless, you don’t have to see them again.”

“I must. I mean, I will.” She couldn’t tell him she had fled because he’d driven her out of control any more than she could tell him she had to go back because she had to spy on him. “You didn’t hire me to run away every time you have guests. It’s partly my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have worn this dress.”

“I’m glad you did. You look particularly lovely.” He wanted to tell her that her eyes were full of starlight, that her lips tempted him almost beyond bearing, but he could see she was poised to run away. He didn’t dare touch her, though his whole body ached with wanting to.

“Servants aren’t supposed to look lovely.”

Nathan started to tell her that she could never be a servant, but he stopped short. She had asked to be a servant, and only by being one could she eradicate the black cloud—Reuben’s debt—which always seemed to hang between them.

“Why did you wear that dress? You said you wouldn’t.”

Delilah sidestepped his question. “Shouldn’t you get back? They might start wondering where you’ve gotten to.”

Nathan experienced a pang of disappointment. She wanted him to go. Was she afraid of him, or did she merely dislike him? He couldn’t blame her in either case. He had given her little reason to think he was different from his uncle.

“I can’t leave you here. I’ll wait and walk with you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Can you imagine what those men would say?”

“I don’t care,” Nathan said, realizing with a bit of surprise that he really didn’t.

“I do. What they think now is pure conjecture, but if they were to see us walk into the house together, they would announce it as fact.”

“No one will see us. The doors to both the drawing room and the dining room are closed.”

“But Lester will know. And he’ll tell your aunt.”

“I’ll see that no one bothers you.”

“You can’t. I mean, you can try, but you can’t.”

The trace of arrogant aristocrat buried deep within Nathan spoke up. “I’m not accustomed to having my orders disobeyed.”

When he acted like that, Delilah could see why Jane said he wasn’t any different from his uncle. He had an unbending, autocratic streak. What good was it for him to be wonderfully handsome outside when he was mean and ugly inside?

But was he? Maybe he just didn’t understand Americans. Maybe she didn’t understand Englishmen. Either way, this was no time to try to figure it out. If they didn’t return to the house soon, there’d be lots of questions to answer regardless of whether they went back separately or together.

“If you’re really interested in what’s best for the, you’ll go back now.”

“You don’t believe I can protect you?”

“People can sometimes control-their own thoughts, but they can never control those of others. Look at your country,” she hurried on when he started to protest. “England wasn’t able to change the Americans’ opinions of its laws no matter what the reasons were for enacting them.'’

Delilah’s mention of the war caused some of Nathan’s eagerness to comfort her to fade. Even though he had begun to think of her as separate from everyone else, she was still associated with the rebels who had caused all the trouble in his life.

“Don’t stay long.”

“I won’t.”

There was more he wanted to say, but the moment had passed. Even now, Delilah was drawing away from him.

He turned and walked back toward the house.

Delilah watched him go, for once barely aware of the sensuous movement of his hips.

He was worried about her. He had actually left the gathering to make certain she was all right. He had been willing to risk censure to escort her back to the house. He thought she looked lovely in her new dress.

Her heart soared.

For the moment it didn’t matter that it was unlikely he could have more than a passing interest in her, that he represented people who had brought tragedy and suffering into her life, that in part he might be ugly, possibly even cruel. He was a gorgeous man and he was interested in her.

For the moment that was enough.

Chapter Seven

“It’s time we got started,” Lucius Clarke said when Nathan returned to the drawing room.

“Who’s going to moderate?” Eli asked.

“It ought to be Lucius” Noah Hubbard said. “He knows the most about what’s going on, and he’s got the best connections in Boston.”

“It’s Nathan’s house,” Eli said. “And he’s owed more money then all of us put together,” he added when both Lucius and Noah looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

“My nephew doesn’t understand the way we do things,” Serena said, aligning herself against Nathan. “If he did, he’d have Reuben Stowbridge’s oxen in his barn rather man the man’s sister under his roof.”

“We’re not here to discuss the manner in which debts are collected,” Nathan informed his aunt, “rawer, the situation in general.”

“It won’t do a bit of good to make up a whole lot of rules if you do something different when the situation gets specific,” Serena retorted.

The men eyed each other uneasily.

“We’ll keep your warning in mind,” Nathan said.

“Nonsense. You mean to ignore it altogether,” Serena snapped. “Priscilla and I will occupy the sofa.” She seated herself. “You may sit or stand as you please.”

Priscilla remained standing. The men became increasingly restless.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the sitting room?” Nathan asked.

“No. Sit down, Priscilla,” his aunt said.

“I think I’ll go to bed, Mama. I’m rather tired.”

“All right, but I shall remain.” Her words were a challenge to Nathan.

“You insist upon remaining on the sofa?” he asked, his gaze cold and calm.

“I do.” Serena felt uncomfortable, but she took assurance from the presence of the other men.

“I would never ask you to give up your seat,” Nathan said, his eyes now gleaming like agate. “Eli, would you open the doors into the hall. Colonel Clarke, if you would take the other end of the sofa.”

At first mystified, Lucius grinned broadly the moment he understood what Nathan had in mind. He strode to his end of the sofa.

Nathan and Lucius lifted the heavy piece of furniture simultaneously. Serena clutched at the arm rest to keep her balance as they carried her out and deposited her in the hallway.

“Would you like Lester to bring you a branch of candles?”

Hearty laughter convinced Serena that the men sympathized with Nathan. As furious as she was, she had no alternative but to accept her exclusion.

“Don’t disturb yourself,” she said, trying to salvage as much of her dignity as possible. “I should have thought you, of all people, would have wanted my advice.”

“You’ve given it so unstintingly during these last weeks, I’m sure I have enough to last the night.”

“I shall not come down once I’m in my room.”

“I would not expect it of you.”

Convinced she wasn’t going to circumvent Nathan, Serena marched upstairs.

“I liked the way you handled that,” Asa Warner said. “Simple and effective.”

“I’d have clouted my old woman if she’d defied me like that,” Noah said.

“Serena Noyes is not my
old woman,”
Nathan replied.

“I still say a good whack on the head saves a lot of trouble.”

“And destroys any chance your wife will be anything more than a servant in her own house.”

Nathan hadn’t intended to sound so supercilious, but he disagreed violently with Noah. He couldn’t help but act as though he were talking to an idiot.

“No man worth his salt needs help from a woman to run his affairs,” Noah said, anger turning his countenance red. “I don’t put up with any lip neither.”

“We’re not here to discuss domestic arrangements.” Asa Warner was attempting to head off a dispute that could divide the garnering before those present got to the subject which brought them together.

“We still haven’t decided on a moderator,” Eli reminded them.

“I yield any claims my hospitality might give me,” Nathan said.

As soon as it was decided the moderator could not speak, Colonel Clarke stood aside. Asa Warner was finally chosen.

Delilah entered the back of the hall just in time to overhear Nathan’s remark about a wife being a slave in her own home. It shocked her to realize he was right. Even though her father had loved her mother dearly, she had never questioned any of his actions. Jane could sometimes talk Reuben into the course of action she thought best, but she would never think of going against any decision he made.

Would my husband expect me to do the same? Would I? Never!
Delilah had always argued for the right to do what she thought best. Otherwise she wouldn’t be at Maple Hill. She couldn’t imagine giving up the right to make decisions which concerned her. But it was a shock to learn that Nathan, a man she had previously considered autocratic, would not expect her to do so.

Delilah turned her thoughts to a more pressing problem. How could she find out what the River Gods were planning when she was banished from the drawing room? She had overplayed her hand when she’d chosen that dress. She had to find some way to get back inside, and she didn’t have very long to do it.

“Where have you been?” Lester demanded, stepping out of the butler’s pantry as Delilah emerged from her hiding place under the staircase. “You should be helping Mrs. Stebbens.”

An idea flashed into Delilah’s mind as she preceded him into the dining room.

“Mr. Trent said I was to take in the ale. You’re to help Mrs. Stebbens.”

“You’re lying, girl,” Lester replied, outraged. “Mrs. Noyes would never hear of it.”

“Mrs. Noyes was just moved out into the hall, sofa and all.” the sofa still rested in the center of the shadowy hall, mute evidence of the truth of her statement.

Lester’s eyes grew big. “Whatever for?”

“You’ll have to ask Mr. Trent.”

Delilah smiled inwardly when Lester recoiled at her suggestion.

“But that’s always been my job,” he protested.

“It’s mine tonight. If you don’t believe the, ask Mr. Trent.”

As Delilah hoped, Lester decided not to challenge her.

“Now I see why you wore that dress,” he said spitefully. “It won’t do you any good. None of those gentlemen are interested in the likes of you, at least not for a wife.”

“I’m not interested in them either.”

“Does that include Mr. Trent?” Lester demanded. “Don’t seem to the servants ought to be wearing fancy dresses. Not unless something’s been promised that ought not’ve been.”

Hot anger flooded Delilah in an instant. Coming on top of the men’s accusations, it was too much. She picked up the heavy silver tray bearing the last of Mrs. Stebbens’s custards and brought it down over Lester’s head with a dull thud. The blow stunned Lester and scattered custards all about the room. The tray fell to the floor with a ringing crash.

The doors to the parlor were thrown open. “What the hell’s going on!” one of the men exclaimed. Several heads poked through the door.

“Lester just dropped a tray,” Delilah said sweetly. Then she calmly closed the doors on the men’s curiosity.

“I’ll get you for lying,” Lester growled.

“You say anything like that about the again and you’ll be dead.”

As angry as Lester was, he didn’t have the makings of a genuine bully. “It ain’t natural for Mr. Nathan to be so easy on you” he said, aggrieved.

“He promised Reuben I wouldn’t be treated like a common servant,” Delilah explained. “Reuben threatened to shoot him if he went back on his word. He’d shoot you, too, if I told him what you just said.”

Like everybody who lived near Springfield, Lester knew of Reuben’s explosive temper.

“You’d better pick up those custards and bring some ale up from the cellars. With the kind of talk they’re having tonight, they’ll be ready to drink the cellars dry?’

“Me! It was you who tossed them all over.”

“Pick them up, or I’ll tell Reuben what you said.”

Lester glared at her malevolently, but he picked up the custards.

“Nasty bitch” he muttered to himself after Delilah had gone into the kitchen. “You wait. Mrs. Noyes’ll put you in your place, and I’ll make sure you stay there.”

Delilah took care to avoid meeting Nathan’s gaze when she brought in the ale. The men had less attention to spare. Colonel Clarke was holding forth on a subject dear to their hearts Money.

“We have to stop them from closing the courts,” he was saying. “I can’t get my money unless I can sell what I confiscate. I can’t sell anything without a court order, but I can’t get that order unless the courts sit.”

“I’ve got a dozen head of livestock on my place right now eating their heads off,” Noah Hubbard said.