Savage Deception (Liberty's Ladies) (29 page)

He didn’t expect to find a job and wasn’t quite certain why he had decided to take a walk — especially on this road that was rumored to be frequented by outliers, those notorious men with no allegiance who robbed and killed their victims. Mike shrugged off his fear; he didn’t have any money, so no outlier would lay claim to him. As he walked he found himself enjoying nature’s beauty and feeling a bit of hope that things would eventually turn out right for him.

From the height of the sun in the sky, he realized it must be past midday, most definitely past midday if the emptiness in his stomach was any indication. For his breakfast he’d eaten a stale piece of bread and was more than used to the hungry rumbling sound, but he’d have turned back to Rawdontown, except he had no meal waiting for him. Not even a crumb. Maybe if he continued on for another mile or so he might come across some wild berries or even some wild game. Mike’s mouth watered to imagine feasting on rabbit, pheasant, or squirrel. Hunger propelled him onward.

Minutes later, Mike’s ears perked up at the strange moaning sound coming from the bushes along the roadway. For an instant he thought he’d at last found his dinner. But it was an odd sort of noise, reminding him of the gut-wrenching sound a dying animal makes when it’s been injured. Tempted to turn back, Mike steeled himself to see what he could do for the poor thing. Maybe if it was a dying deer …

Following the trail of fresh blood on the road, he made his way behind the bushes. His hope turned to absolute horror at the scene before him. Two men, one covered in blood and from the look of him a servant, was dead; the other man was lying face down and moaning. Mike Candy didn’t believe this one was long for this world. Some men would have run away, worried that outliers might still be sneaking around and would kill him, too. Candy wasn’t like most men. His heart filled with pity for a fellow human being, the same pity that had caused him to offer help to Mr. King. He couldn’t leave this man here to die. Maybe he could flag down some help if someone passed by.

“Lordy, look at you.” Mike gently touched the man’s face and turned it toward him, instantly recognizing him. “Mr. Sheridan! Who’d want to do this to you?”

Now Mike knew he had to help this man. On his very back, he wore Tanner Sheridan’s hand- me-down coat. He remembered Tanner’s kindness and his pretty wife the day they came to Rawdontown. Somehow he’d save Tanner Sheridan himself. He needed help soon or he’d die.

Mike’s one alternative was to carry Tanner. Tanner was a big man, and weak from loss of blood, so no doubt he would be limp. Mike was a large man, not as strong as he once was, but sturdy enough to help a friend. When he lifted Tanner into his arms and heard his agonized groans, Mike steeled himself to the sound and hardened his heart. “I’m doing this for your own good, Mr. Sheridan. I don’t like hurting people, but one day you’ll thank me — if you live.”

21

“Is he going to live? Please, tell me Tanner will be all right.” Annabelle’s impassioned plea to Dr. Ridgely, the army doctor who’d been called in by Samuel Farnsworth to care for Tanner, wasn’t lost on Samuel. He waited by the foot of Tanner’s bed, his shoulders thrust back in a military stance, and didn’t bat an eyelash when Annabelle grabbed at Tanner’s hand. He thought Annabelle was making a damn fool of herself over Sheridan, and he wanted to thrash her for acting like such an imbecile when it was obvious that even in his delirium, Tanner didn’t want her. He wanted his wife, and hers was the name he mumbled.

“I’ve done all that can be done, Miss Hastings.” Dr. Ridgely smiled kindly at her, but it was a smile meant only to comfort, not to convey hope. “Fortunately, Mr. Sheridan’s wounds weren’t deep enough to sever any arteries; however, he lost a great deal of blood and is suffering from an infection. If the infection clears, there’s a chance he’ll pull through. If not…”

“He has to get better,” Annabelle insisted, clinging tightly to Tanner. “I’ll nurse him day and night.”

“You’re to be commended for your concern; however, please don’t overtax yourself. I don’t want you to fall ill.”

After Doctor Ridgely left, Samuel broke the strained silence by applauding. “A remarkable performance, my dear. It’s wasted, however, for your audience is unconscious.”

“How dare you patronize me, Samuel! I’m in love with Tanner, otherwise, would I still be here?”

Samuel adored Annabelle when she was aroused, either sexually or in anger, and her eyes turned from a pale blue to sparkling sapphires. Those eyes, combined with her silver-blonde hair, presented such a striking image that Samuel’s knees grew weak with longing for her. But while she professed not to love him, he didn’t believe that for a moment. He knew very well what Annabelle loved and bluntly told her so. “You’d have been long gone if Tanner had turned out to be poor, dearest. I remember seeing you with him in New York. I knew you were sleeping with him for the exercise. If you’d loved him at all you would have stayed with him for love and not for what you hoped to gain by moving on to greener pastures. You’re a whore, Annabelle, but I want you anyway. Tanner doesn’t and never will. He wants his wife.”

“Diana is gone and isn’t coming back!”

“How do you know that? Do you have any idea of what happened to Tanner or where Diana might be? If so, you better tell me now.”

“I don’t know anything!” was the heated protest that immediately sprang to Annabelle’s lips. “That Mr. Candy said he thought Tanner and Diana had been attacked by outliers.”

“Mr. Candy didn’t mention Diana,” Samuel observed.

“No, but she left with Tanner, and the driver was killed. Since there’s no sign of the carriage or Diana, then you tell
me
what happened to her. She could be dead now.”

Samuel nodded and walked over to her. He lowered his voice. “Yes, she could be dead, and I pray she is if she was captured by those ruffians. She’d be horribly used and death would be a mercy, but I doubt men of that ilk would steal the carriage with the horses. They’re traveling back roads and wooded areas, places carriages can’t navigate. And if she is dead, you’d be most pleased, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would.” Annabelle turned defiant eyes upon Samuel.

“What a pity that I should love a heartless woman like you.”

“I never asked you to love me.” Her voice shook for a second. “I never asked you for anything, Samuel.”

“True.”

Annabelle stayed near Tanner when Samuel started to leave the room. “Will you search for Diana?” she asked him.

Grabbing the doorknob, he faced her and shook his head. “She’s in enemy territory and my forces are scheduled to leave Charlestown within the next two weeks. I fear the only thing that will save Diana Sheridan is a miracle.”

“Good-bye, Samuel.”

“Good-bye to you, my love. I wish you well with Tanner, because I fear that once he awakens and learns what has happened to his wife, you’ll cease to exist, no matter your diligent bedside vigil.”

Annabelle sat in the chair, keeping her hand in Tanner’s. He looked so pale, deathly still as he lay there beneath the sheets. His breathing was shallow, and this frightened her more than all the blood she’d seen when Samuel had arrived at the townhouse with Tanner and the man who’d found him on the road. She remembered that her mother had breathed in the same fashion before she died, that no matter what the leech had done for her, she hadn’t regained her strength. But Annabelle was glad she had stood up to Doctor Ridgely earlier that day and had protested against bleeding Tanner to cure the infection. He’d already lost blood, so what was the point in taking more? Her mother had been bled, many times, and each time weakened her. Annabelle didn’t want the same for Tanner. She wanted him alive and healthy and in love with her.

“Tanner, forgive me,” she wept, not relinquishing his hand. “If I’d only known what Kingsley had intended I’d never have helped him. I wanted Diana out of the way, but not at your expense. I … hate … that man. He’s despicable. How can he be your brother? How?! But when you’re well, I’ll make everything up to you. I promise. You’ll forget Diana and…”

Annabelle stiffened as Tanner opened his eyes and looked directly at her. Her heart caught in her throat to imagine he might have heard her.

“Di … an … a,” came his tortured groan. “Di … an…”

And then he shut his eyes, drifting into unconsciousness again. “It’s only Annabelle,” she told him as she stroked his furrowed brow. She recalled what Samuel had told her earlier, that when Tanner awoke, her efforts would be overlooked in the face of the loss of Diana. A sense of futility filled her, and she got up to walk on the piazza, peering into the star-filled night at the many British ships in the harbor. Soon they’d sail for England, her home. She suddenly realized she’d never see Samuel again, and grew unaccountably melancholy at the thought.

~ ~ ~

It was well past midnight when Kingsley halted the carriage at the Sheridan cemetery and opened the creaking door to enter the tunnel. With the service of some flint and a tinderbox that stood on the ground just inside the opening, he soon lit the wall torch in order to survey his surroundings.

Nothing had changed. Kingsley smiled to see that the tunnel he’d played in as a child was still intact. He did notice that the water markings on the walls, the dirty yellow lines that indicated the depth of the water whenever the Santee overflowed, were faint. Evidently Briarhaven had enjoyed a flood-free period since his departure, quite unlike the disastrous floodings the plantation had suffered when Kingsley was a child. There seemed to be no warning when these flash floods would occur, but now the tunnel was dry and not too cold, considering the chilly temperatures.

Retracing his steps, he opened the carriage door and heard Diana moaning. “What’s the matter?” he cruelly taunted her as he hauled her to her feet, bringing her to rest outside. “Can’t you take suffering or adversity? Tsk, tsk, my loyal wife, I’ve grown quite used to pain and the cold, to going hungry. When I was in Rawdontown, the gnawing of my belly was welcome relief, because I knew I was still alive. Sometimes that was the only indication I had. But you were always sheltered and protected.” His cold green eyes raked over her in distaste and he pushed aside her cloak. “From the look of your figure, I presume Tanner took good care of you. I should have known you’d sell yourself to the highest bidder, but I didn’t think it would be that half-breed.”

Lifting Diana into his arms, he carried her into the tunnel. For an instant, she fidgeted and made as if to kick at the narrow wall and throw him off balance, but for some reason she seemed to think better of it. “That’s a good wife,” Kingsley icily commended her. “Better start learning now who’s master of Briarhaven, Diana. You’d do well not to cross me.”

They reached the end and he set her on her feet, keeping a firm grasp on her waist while he pushed open the sliding panel that led into the wine cellar.

“Ah, home, sweet home, my dear. This is where you shall spend many happy hours until I decide what to do with you. I can’t bring you into the house; it would arouse suspicion. Too many questions about me which I don’t want to answer. And then of course Hattie would want to know about you and Tanner.” Diana made a strangling sound behind the balled kerchief, and Kingsley seemed to realize that she was still gagged. “Sorry,” he apologized as he removed it, and Diana took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Coward!” she ranted through parched lips. “I hate you. What did you do to Tanner?”

“Watch your tongue, Diana. I always hated it, you know.”

“I don’t care what you hated,” she retorted spitefully, but Kingsley noted her complexion was quite white and that she trembled, though she didn’t seem about to back down. This was a very different Diana than the one he remembered, the one who cowered every time he raised his voice or touched her. He wasn’t certain he cared for her open defiance, but then again, a bit of spirit could be amusing if one knew how to take proper advantage of it.

“Ah, Diana, you should care about my hates and my likes, but let’s discuss my hates for a moment, shall we? I hated my father, and to a lesser degree, I sometimes hated you, too. Not always.” He leered at her, and his hand brushed against her breasts. “There were some times I was quite undone by your beauty and particularly enjoyed some of the special tricks I taught you, things I learned from my Charlestown ladies.”

“Your whores, you mean!”

Kingsley colored, but he threw back his head and laughed. “How entertaining is your sharp little tongue, but I’ll put it to better use than to insult me.” Narrowing his eyes, he impaled her with his green-slivered gaze. “What I felt for my father and for you is nothing compared to the hatred I felt for Tanner, that half-breed who dared to usurp my position here, who dared to take you from me. A loathsome bastard, that’s what he was, a contemptible, disgusting son of an Indian whore. But he got what he deserved. I didn’t desert that hellish war to be called a coward. I knew I had to find a way to recover what one has lost. I took my vengeance out upon that bastard who was my brother.” Kingsley chuckled. “And I didn’t have to lift a hand to do it.”

“What … what do you mean, was your brother?” Diana asked and swayed against Kingsley.

“I thought I mentioned he was dead.”

Kingsley caught her when she fainted.

~ ~ ~

Kingsley hadn’t anticipated Diana’s family being at Briarhaven. Granted, it was her aunt and Marisa, but now he not only had to lie to them about where he’d been the last two years — letting it be believed he had been in British prison camp — but he also had to contend with Clay Sinclair, someone he remembered as a lad but who was now a grown man. He didn’t like it, didn’t care for any of it at all. And Hattie, well he didn’t expect too much to be made over him from the others, but Hattie had been his nurse.

He also had to pretend he didn’t know that Diana had married Tanner and had gone to live in Charlestown. This news was divulged with just a hint of sadness in Aunt Frances’s voice. He heard a touch of vengefulness, too, because the old biddy hadn’t encouraged his wooing of Diana years ago. She’d been the only family member to speak against him.

Still, he felt he’d acted distraught enough to be believed. He’d shaken his head with just enough astonishment, and his eyes had filled with tears, a trick he learned when he was little and his mother had admonished him. The tears always broke her down, as they did the hypocritical Frances. “You poor man,” she’d said, patting his back. “Just home from the war, having been falsely listed as dead, and to find your wife is married. Such a tragedy.”

Kingsley hid his disdain for the woman. No doubt whenever she returned to Charlestown she’d crow the news from the rooftops.

“It’s just that I love Diana so much!” he blurted out. He laid his head on his arms and cried on the dining room table.

“Oh, Clay, my heart is fluttering.” Frances moaned. She reached for Clay, who took her hand. Instantly Marisa was there to offer her a glass of water, and Kingsley, too.

Kingsley had refused it, of course. How could he drink or eat when his beloved wife was married to another?

“Perhaps a glass of wine,” Marisa suggested to Kingsley. “I can go to the cellar and see if there are any bottles left—”

“No!” came Kingsley’s harsh and sudden shout. He reddened, realizing that everyone was looking oddly at him. “I don’t want any wine,” he said and made tears well anew in his eyes. “Don’t trouble yourself by going in the cellar, Marisa. I intend to familiarize myself with Briarhaven again on my own, to see what needs to be repaired. Since Diana is gone, I need something to keep myself occupied until I can get into Charlestown and speak to her.” It sounded like a feeble excuse, even to Kingsley, but it was the best he could come up with at that moment.