Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (56 page)

"I think it's good to have a plan."

"Yes, I agree. We ought to practice what we wish to say and how we'll handle their response, whatever it might be, but won't there be plenty of time for that once we're on board the ship bound for home?"

Hunter did not want to speculate on what the captain's reaction might be to their traveling together, but he was worried. "I told Captain Michaels that I was bringing my wife, but I didn't describe you. What if he believes like Henderson, that it's his duty to tell you to leave me? We may still have to travel separately."

Alanna's heart fell. She had so many fears about the difficulties they would encounter at home, that she couldn't bear to think that getting there might pose additional problems. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then came up with a plan.

"No, all we need to do is board separately. When Elliott and I sailed from Newport News, the crew was so busy making ready to depart, they just wanted the passengers to stay out of their way. If you go aboard early, and I wait until the last minute, the captain will be in too great a rush to sail to be concerned about us. Besides, Elliott's coffin will be stowed in the hold, and he won't be able to ask us to leave without taking the time to unload it."

Hunter nodded thoughtfully. "You're very bright, Alanna. Maybe you should do all of our thinking."

He sounded insulted rather than pleased, and Alanna couldn't understand why. "With the problems we're sure to have, we'll both need to have all our wits about us," she swore. "It's only that I've been away much longer than we'd planned, and I want Elliott to receive a proper burial so badly, I don't care what we have to do to get home. That's my main concern, not manipulating Captain Michaels into doing my bidding."

Hunter knew that, and he reached out to tickle her foot. "We mustn't fight tonight. It would be a very bad way to begin our marriage."

Counting Elliott, six men had died in the time they had been together, and that was already such a bad omen, Alanna feared their troubles might prove endless. "We can't let other people's uncharitable views tear us apart, but even if we have to live in the deepest, darkest part of the forest to find happiness, I'd be willing to do it."

Her fervent vow touched Hunter deeply, and he quickly shifted his position to draw her into his arms. "No, you are much too beautiful to hide." He kissed her tenderly at first, and then with increasing passion. Content to spend the whole night making love to her, he moved at a relaxed, leisurely pace. A long while passed before he slid off the bed to douse the lamp. He removed his moccasins and buckskins, and then helped Alanna shed her nightgown.

"You are a fine wife," he said. "I should have told you that, when you were paying me compliments as a husband."

"Thank you, but if it's too soon for me to praise you, then it has to be too soon for you to say nice things about
me."

Hunter rejoined her on the bed. Turning playful, he gave a low growl and began to lick her breast. "No, it isn't. This is the perfect time."

Savoring the warmth of his bare skin against the whole length of her slender body, Alanna drew him close. She loved everything about him, his tenderness as well as his strength, and it was so easy to forget all her cares the instant his lips caressed hers. She sifted his thick, black mane through her fingers and slid her hands down his well-muscled back. She doubted a more perfect male had ever been born. His love was such a precious gift, she could scarcely believe he had chosen her for his wife.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Not nearly as much as I love you," Hunter argued. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over to bring her up on top of him. He then slid his hands over her hips, before gripping her waist to align their bodies so perfectly, her feminine crease caressed the length of his hardened shaft. Knowing he was also providing her with the very same exquisite thrill, he rocked her back and forth gently, creating a delicious friction, until ecstasy was only a heartbeat away.

He then pulled her astride him, and with loving gestures rather than spoken commands, urged her to mount him. Their bodies were now so finely attuned, she took the full length of him easily. After resting her palms on his broad chest, she responded to the light pressure of his hands around her waist, and began a slow, rhythmic motion timed to the rapture swelling within them. When it reached its crest and seared them with a splendid heat, Hunter pulled her down into his arms and kept her locked in his embrace, until the need to possess her again overwhelmed him.

"I'll never tire of loving you," he vowed.

"Is it even possible to tire of making love?"

"Not with you, it isn't."

Completely relaxed, Alanna snuggled against him, but Hunter soon made his intentions clear with impassioned kisses and a provocative touch. Only too glad to oblige his every whim, Alanna responded with a joyous abandon that fed his desire. Ensnared in the sensuous web he spun so lovingly, her pleasure was as deep as his. With gestures as fluid as an exotic dance, the only limits to the expression of their love were the dimensions of the feather bed and, after sharing a bunk, they seemed generous indeed. When they finally fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs, their dreams were peaceful and sweet.

* * *

Rather than intentionally shock the staff of the Owl's Eye, Hunter made his entrances and exits to the inn with such complete discretion, no one ever caught a glimpse of him. When Alanna returned their room key to the desk, the clerk was so curious about the pretty young woman and her mysterious mate, that he encouraged her to stop there again on their next visit to the city.

"Thank you, we certainly will." Alanna started to move away and then turned back. "I hope none of your other guests complained about sharing the inn with an Indian."

Confused by her comment, the clerk shrugged. "We have no Indians staying here."

"Other than my husband, you mean?" Alanna watched the clerk's complexion fade to a stark white several shades lighter than his heavily powdered wig. "Oh, dear, didn't I mention that my husband is a Seneca brave? I'll be sure to have him introduce himself, if we stay here again." She waved and left before the clerk recovered enough of his composure to respond, but she hoped he would be on duty the next time she came to rent a room, so she could remind him that no one's sleep had been disturbed by war whoops on their last visit.

* * *

The
Sarah Rene
was a brig engaged in the merchant trade between the colonies, the West Indies, and London. While Captain Michaels eschewed the lucrative slave trade, he was not above increasing his profits by ferrying as many passengers as his ship could comfortably carry. Just as Alanna had predicted, when Hunter boarded the ship first, and she arrived as the last of the visitors were going ashore, no one noticed they were together. It wasn't until they joined the other passengers for the noon meal that the captain realized the fetching blonde he had glimpsed only briefly, was Hunter's wife.

Understandably shocked, in the interest of maintaining harmony on a voyage he expected to complete in a few days, he treated the couple with good, if somewhat stilted, manners. Following his example, the other passengers kept whatever they thought about the striking pair to themselves. It was plain none had ever spoken with an Indian brave, and Hunter went out of his way to charm them, while Alanna smiled contentedly at his side. By the time they docked in Newport News, the travelers had become friendly, but now that a meeting with her aunt and uncle was only a few hours away, Alanna was so worried, she barely heard their fond farewells.

The other passengers had had only their hand luggage, but Alanna and Hunter had to wait for Elliott's coffin, and remained on deck after the others had all departed. Fidgeting nervously, Alanna tried to recall the explanation they had rehearsed so diligently. The news would be devastating, no matter how sympathetically it was delivered, but Alanna knew the announcement of her marriage would also be greeted as tragic, and she didn't think she could bear that.

"This is going to be so awful," she predicted darkly.

Hunter opened his mouth to argue, but then, fearing she was right, he remained silent. Distracted by a well-dressed gentleman waving from the dock, he touched Alanna's arm. "Do you know that man? He appears to be waving to us."

Alanna turned to find Randolph O'Neil striding up the gangplank. "Oh, no," she sighed.

"He's not a friend?"

"No, he is, and a good one." Alanna did her best to smile as Randolph reached them, but her lips still trembled slightly. "Hello, I didn't expect to see you here today."

"I came to pick up a shipment," Randolph replied. "The
Sarah Rene
routinely carries merchandise for me, but if only you had let me know you'd be on board, I would have come to meet you." He then cast an inquiring glance toward Hunter.

"You're very kind," Alanna said. "Mr. O'Neil, this is Hunter, my husband." She knew Randolph to be a gentleman and, despite what had to be a deeply disturbing announcement, he did not disappoint her now. There was only a very slight widening of his eyes that no one else would have noticed, before he broke into a friendly grin and extended his hand.

"Please call me Randolph. Didn't I see you in Williamsburg last spring with the Barclays?"

Few white men had ever offered their hands to him, and appreciating the gesture of friendship, Hunter shook Randolph's before replying. "Yes, I visited them before serving as a scout with the militia."

"May I offer my congratulations? I envy you having such a lovely bride." Unwilling to reveal that he had had serious intentions where Alanna was concerned, he abruptly changed the subject. "Where's Elliott? Didn't he come home with you?"

Knowing how reluctant Alanna was to supply the answer, Hunter replied. "Elliott was slain by an Abenaki brave we'd fought last summer in the Ohio Valley. He shot Elliott in cold blood, but I'm proud to say he didn't live to brag about it."

Aghast at that news, Randolph moved to Alanna's side and reached out for the rail to steady himself. "I'm so sorry. What a terrible tragedy. Do John and Rachel know? Are they coming to meet you?"

Alanna shook her head. "We thought we would be here before a letter could arrive, but I didn't want to describe Elliott's death in a letter anyway."

"Well no, of course not. In addition to a wagon to transport my goods, I also have my carriage. Won't you allow me to take you home? We can be there by nightfall."

"That's very kind of you," Alanna said, "but we've brought Elliott's coffin home with us."

"That will be no problem," Randolph assured her. "I'll have it loaded in my wagon. Where do you wish to have it delivered, to your home or to the church?"

Alanna turned to Hunter. "Where do you think? I really don't know which to choose."

"Home then," Hunter suggested. "The coffin can be taken to the church for the funeral."

Alanna looked confused for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, that's a good plan. Let's do that."

In New York, Alanna had appeared confident, but once on board the
Sarah Rene,
Hunter had watched her anxiety gradually mount to the point that she now seemed no more able to cope than the day he had first met her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and hugged her tightly. "No one is going to blame you for Elliott's death. You needn't be so frightened."

While Alanna appreciated Hunter's efforts to raise her spirits, she knew they would both be blamed for her cousin's murder, and she could not help but feel that whatever accusations grew out of her aunt and uncle's pain, would be justified. Elliott's death was only one of her family's tragedies though, there was also Melissa's, to say nothing of the uncertain future of the dear baby she had left behind. Feeling faint, Alanna swayed slightly, and Hunter scooped her up into his arms.

Randolph hastened to lead the Way. "Poor dear, it's no wonder she's unwell. Come, let's take her to my carriage."

Hunter had seen the admiration glowing in Randolph's eyes when he looked at Alanna, but he appreciated the man's help and accepted it gladly. Randolph owned a fancy carriage with wide, leather seats, but Hunter chose to keep Alanna on his lap rather than at his side. While Randolph saw to the loading of the wagon, he attempted to restore his bride's courage.

"I won't leave you," he promised.

"Thank you, but perhaps you ought to stay outside."

"You don't want me there?"

Alanna gripped his hand tightly. "Of course, I want you there. I'm just trying to think of a way to make things easier for my aunt and uncle."

"We already know they despise me, nothing you can say or do will change their minds. I'm staying with you."

When Randolph joined them, he was shocked by the intimacy of their pose, but Hunter's forbidding gaze discouraged any mention of impropriety, and as they got under way, he focused his attention on the passing scene. "Byron's left again for the Ohio Valley with General Braddock's forces, so if you have need of someone to help with the funeral arrangements, I'll be happy to perform whatever service I can."

"Thank you," Alanna replied. "You're very kind." Worn out from worry, she rested her head on her husband's shoulder and soon fell into a troubled asleep.

Hunter, however, remained keenly alert. Randolph O'Neil struck him as a sincere individual, but he still had questions. They rode a long way in silence before he decided that if Alanna considered him a good friend, he would trust him, too. "You mentioned merchandise," he remarked. "What do you sell?"