Sweet Temptation (32 page)

“You might say I don’t trust things to last, or to be what they seem. The important things, the things that can make life something other than a living hell, never last. Never!”

Even though he continued to lie quietly by her side, Sara was startled by the vehemence in his voice. Its intensity frightened her, but it also warned her, that whatever was keeping them apart was no simple misunderstanding or idle prejudice, but something which had become as much a part of him as bones and sinew. A cold fear clutched at her heart, and she felt much of the glow of the evening evaporate. Would she ever bridge the chasm that separated them? Would she ever have the love she longed for?

Instinctively she moved closer to Gavin, and his hands began to roam over her body, awakening the feelings that had been only momentarily displaced by her fears. She tried to hold on to her thoughts, she
must
find an answer if she was to achieve happiness, but her body flooded her brain with a tidal wave of sensations that gradually blocked out all consciousness of anything other than the wonderful things that Gavin was doing to her. She gave herself up to him, and let herself be borne aloft until she felt completely detached from all earthly restraints. Tomorrow she could think about it, but tonight …

Sara woke slowly, gradually becoming aware of a wondrous feeling of contentment. She unfolded her body from its tight ball, stretched luxuriously in the cold bed, and then retracted quickly, until she occupied only the warm spot again, the covers tucked tightly under her chin. Gradually the memory of last night crystallized from the murkiness of her unfocused mind, and a smile spread across her face. Gavin had come to her, and everything felt right at last. She still had to discover what had kept him away from her bed, but as long as he was with her, she felt confident they could overcome any problem, no matter how terrible. Her hand reached out, but it encountered an empty pillow. Sara sat up with a start, than collapsed back on her pillow, her hopes dashed.

Gavin had not stayed the night. He was gone.

“And Mary said Lord Carlisle bid her strictly to tell you he might be away for several days,” Betty told Sara, as she bustled about helping her get dressed. “He’s gone to see about those coal mines of his, and doesn’t know how long it will take. Seems there’s some trouble about who’s going to dig the stuff out.” She helped Sara into her dress and twitched it into place. “They ought to leave it in the ground, if you ask me. It’s nasty, dirty stuff. And it doesn’t make nearly as nice a fire as wood.”

“I believe Lord Carlisle is mining it primarily for sale,” Sara said, her listless voice causing Betty’s concern to grow. She had not failed to notice Sara’s lack of spirits. At first she set it down to fatigue after the exertions of the party, but now she decided it was much deeper than that. Normally she would have asked her mistress straight out what was eating at her, but today Betty was reluctant to intrude. She had the feeling this was something Sara would not share.

“I think there are people coming to see me today,” Sara said listlessly. “A poet if I remember correctly, and someone to play duets on the violin. Tell them I’m not feeling well, and to call again.”

“When should I say?”

“I don’t know, maybe in a few days …” But Sara stopped in her verbal tracks. She didn’t know what was wrong with Gavin, and she was terribly disappointed he had chosen to disappear again, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere by feeling sorry for herself. She certainly wasn’t going to convince Gavin or anyone else she could handle adversity if she hid in her bedroom at the first hint of trouble. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said to Betty, reaching down to summon every bit of determination she had to her aid. “And have my carriage ready after luncheon. One of my guests was unable to attend because of illness, and I want to call on her. If Lord Carlisle comes in, tell him dinner has been put back to half past seven. If he doesn’t return, I shall dine alone at that hour.”

“That’ll show you, you old tyrant,” Betty mumbled to herself later, as she carried the message to various persons in the household. “Milady is not going to curl up and die because of anything you do, so don’t you think it. One of these days she’s going to realize that Mr. Ian Fraser is worth ten of you, and then you’ll be out in the cold, where you belong.”

Chapter 20

“And we can run a rail down to the river along this ridge,” Gavin was saying to his agent, Walter Kincaid.

“Tis too shallow and rough tae take ships,” Kincaid pointed out.

“Then we’ll have to use barges. Without cheap transportation, we’ll lose most of our profit.”

Gavin had spent the last three days walking over every inch of his coal-bearing land, concerning himself with the most minute details of its mining and transportation, and working until he was ready to drop. All so he could keep from thinking about Sara. He had succeeded during the daytime hours, but at night she filled his dreams so completely he rose from his bed each morning more exhausted than when he laid down. Absence had only succeeded in making him think of her almost constantly and convincing him of his increasing vulnerability.

“As I remember, there are some caves around here,” Gavin said, forcing his mind back to his work. “We can keep the equipment there when it’s not in use. You can enlarge the openings if you have to.” Gavin set off across the hillside, hardly aware that Kincaid was giving him a list of reasons why the caves wouldn’t be suitable for the storage of valuable equipment.

“I know they’re not ideal, but they’ll do,” Gavin said absently. He had already sighted one of the caves, and was more interested in seeing what had to be done before it would be made useable than in listening to Kincaid. As he neared the opening, he noticed that the ground had been cut up with hoofprints. Then he saw the imprint of wagon wheels leading up to the mouth of the cave.

“What’s been going on around here?” he demanded, suddenly realizing that Kincaid’s objections had been intended not only to discourage him from using the caves, but to dissuade him from visiting them at all. “Someone has been bringing wagons up here, and from the looks of these tracks, they were loaded with something heavy.”

“This is lonely country,” Kincaid offered nervously. “Anyone could be using these caves.”

“Not anyone, just someone who is so well known no one would question him.” Gavin leveled his unyielding gaze at his agent. “You know who it is, don’t you?”

Kincaid fidgeted uneasily, but he nodded. “I did try tae stop them, yer Lordship, I surely did, but he wouldna listen. He said ye would understand.”

“And who is
he?”

“Yer friend, Mr. Fraser,” Kincaid replied.

“What did he leave here?”

“I didna ask,” Kincaid responded, with the bland innocence of one who thinks if he can’t put a name to an evil, it can’t hurt him.

“Then we shall find out. Do you have a torch?” Kincaid shook his head, but just inside the mouth of the cave, Gavin discovered several torches leaning against the wall, along with a flint to light them. “It looks as though they mean to come back,” Gavin said, as he lighted one of the torches and motioned for Kincaid to light a second.

The light seemed pitifully insignificant when pitted against the inky blackness of the cave, but they had no trouble following the tracks. About one hundred feet from the opening, they came upon several long wooden boxes piled against a wall in a dim recess. Gavin didn’t need to open the boxes to know what they contained.

“These are rifles for the rebellion.”

“Merciful God,” Kincaid exclaimed, realizing the full implication of what they had found. “If the government was to find out …”

“We would all be hanged,” Gavin finished for him.

“What are we to do?”

“Move everything
tonight. “

“Where to?”

Gavin was stumped. He couldn’t keep the rifles on his property, couldn’t hide them on anyone else’s property without endangering them, couldn’t return them to Fraser, and couldn’t in good conscience turn them over to Cumberland.

“Dump them in the river,” he decided suddenly, “and be sure to wipe out your tracks. I don’t want anybody to know where to find them. And Kincaid, I want as few people to know about this as possible. Choose men not likely to get drunk and forget to guard their words. Your neck is even more vulnerable than mine.”

Kincaid assured Gavin he would guard the secret with his life, a fact Gavin never doubted, and he turned his thoughts to Ian Fraser, or his father, whichever was really responsible for the rifles being hidden on his land. He was disappointed he couldn’t convince the Frasers to withdraw their support from the Stuart prince, but if they insisted upon taking part in this rebellion, the least they could do was shoulder their own risks. He’d be damned if he’d allow them to endanger him and everyone at Estameer.

Instantly he visualized Sara, as she looked in the candlelight after they made love. My God, if they found the rifles, no one would believe she was innocent, not after traveling with the Prince for two weeks. Cold fear clutched his heart. No, not Sara! The thought of losing her, of knowing her smile would never welcome him again, almost unmanned him. In that moment, he knew he would do
anything
to protect her from the consequences of Fraser’s folly.

That he should feel protective of her didn’t surprise him very much, not after the agony he had endured to keep from going to her every night; that he should feel a murderous rage toward whoever placed the rifles in the cave did. Heretofore, he had been very tolerant of anyone taking part in the rebellion, but at this moment he was furious enough to have led Hawley’s troops against them himself. That anyone should put Sara’s life at risk was unforgivable, but that
Ian
should do it! Even the most pungent of oaths seemed inadequate.

He would go home immediately. He could trust Kincaid to see to the removal of the rifles, but he had to see Ian and make it clear that he wouldn’t allow him to do anything that might endanger Sara’s life. He’d already given her enough pain. He’d be damned if he’d have anybody else adding to it.

“Tis that Miss Fraser, milady,” Mary said, entering Sara’s sitting room. “I didna think ye would want tae see her, but I couldna turn her off, no’ without speaking tae ye first.”

“Let me handle her,” Betty said, starting up, a martial light in her eyes. She might favor Mr. Fraser over his lordship, but she wasn’t about to have any redheaded hussy making eyes at her mistress’s husband.

“Never mind, Betty,” Sara said. “I will see her, and I will see her alone. Show her up, Mary.”

“But milady—”

“I know, and I agree with you,” Sara said, “but the Fraser clan is Gavin’s ally, and the Fraser family his neighbors. I must try to remain friends with them. If I can’t … well, I’ll try first and worry about that later.”

“Nobody can be friends with that hellcat, if they’ve got something she wants,” Betty stated with uncompromising frankness. “You take care shedoesn’t try to make off with your husband, all the while she’s giving you a great big smile.”

“I will,” Sara said, laughing more easily than she felt. “There are a lot of things I don’t know much about, but I do know how to deal with women, even jealous ones. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

“I guess you have at that, but if you need any help, all you have to do—”

“If you hear me scream, come running. If you hear Miss Fraser scream, pretend you were at the other end of the castle.” A conspiratorial wink passed between the two, just before Mary opened the door to Colleen Fraser. The impact of her entrance was equivalent to that of a strong gale, and Sara’s composure was slightly ruffled in spite of herself.

Colleen paused just inside the door and glared openly at Sara, partly to take stock of the situation, Sara guessed, and partly to try and unsettle her rival by her boldness. Sara smiled inwardly, but preserved a calm and sedate exterior.

“Won’t you be seated?” Sara invited. “Could I offer you some refreshment?”

“You’re not much like him, are you?” Colleen asked, ignoring both of Sara’s offers.

“Actually we’re probably alike in as many ways as we differ. Did you have any particular difference in mind?”

“You’re so ladylike,” Colleen said, finally taking a seat.

“I hope so.”

“But Gavin’s rough, and he likes his women lusty. He may want a lady in his parlor, but he looks for a wanton in his bed. Tis exactly like a man tae be both boy and man at once, devil and saint.”

“But don’t you find that men look for different things in different women?” Sara suggested delicately. She couldn’t really dislike Colleen for fighting for her man, at least not yet.

“Gavin always liked a woman o’ spirit, one who could keep up with him, no matter how late he stayed up.”

“But he’d never looked for a wife before.” Colleen took a few seconds to digest this thought.

“Most men look tae marry a dull heiress who will stay home and bear his children, while he enjoys himself elsewhere.” Colleen directed a particularly penetrating look at Sara. “But ye willna be doing that, will ye?”

“That’s rather perceptive of you,” Sara said, quite surprised.

“I can see ye will be a possessive female,” Colleen said, rather belligerently.

“I hope not. I will certainly try hard not to be. A man doesn’t like to feel confined.”