"You can come disguised if you like. " He lifted his grenadier cap and dropped it on her head.
"I didn't say I was coming," she stalled. She knew this was a mistake, but she couldn't help herself. There was something about this man that drew her to him. At this moment it seemed as vital to be with him.
He adjusted his cap on her head, excited by the thought of being alone with her away from his duties . . . his fears. "Just this once?" he whispered.
"Oh, all right. " She yanked off the hat and tossed it to the floor. "Why not? Elsa and Nettie are going to the mill and then they'll be baking bread. I can make up some story about going to see a friend."
He got up from the spinet, retrieving his cap. "Joshua?" He didn't know what made him say it, it just slipped out. The moment he heard his own words, he regretted them.
"Joshua?" Her brow furrowed. "Why would I see Joshua? Whatever was between us ended when he accepted his commission. Our families don't speak on the street."
Sterling backed out the door. "Yes, well. Dress warmly. We'll go in an hour."
Reagan watched him disappear, smiling to herself. Captain Thayer was jealous!
Bells jingled merrily as the roan mares pulled the sled over the slick snow, down a gully, and across a frozen field where wheat stood in the summer months. Two red foxes leaped and dove into the snowdrifts along the edge of the woods and Reagan laughed at their antics, pointing them out to Sterling.
She was snuggled in the crook of his arm, a layer of soft woolen blankets and a bearhide tucked over them. He chatted with his friend Lieutenant Charles Warrington and the lieutenant's companion Anne, his breath tickling Reagan's ear with each word.
"I told you this would be fun," Sterling whispered, kissing her rosy cheek.
"You think everything is a game. I'm not kidding, no one must know I came here with you," she warned, straightening the hood of her forest-green wool cloak.
He slipped his hand beneath the blankets, bringing it to rest on the soft flesh of her thigh. "I already warned Charles and Anne, if they reveal a word of this secret mission they'll both be shot."
She sunk her elbow sharply into his side. "You're not taking this seriously. " She glanced up at Anne and Charles but saw nothing but the backs of their heads. They were obviously deep in conversation. "My father would send me to my aunt's in Richmond. " Her eyes met his. "I can't leave the city, Grayson."
He shrugged. "I just wouldn't allow a pass to be issued. You can't get out of the city without a pass."
"And you think everyone who gets out of the city does it legally?"
Sterling studied her sparkling brown eyes. Damn, but this girl was brazen. He didn't think he'd ever met anyone, male or female, who would dare to be so bold with the enemy . . . no one but himself or his brother. "You'd better keep those sweet lips closed," he warned quietly.
"You'd turn me in if you knew I was doing something illegal?"
"In a heartbeat," he answered against her lips.
Reagan took a deep breath, gazing out over the rolling field. Agreeing to this outing had been a mistake. She should have followed her head instead of her loins. Sterling squeezed her hand beneath the wool coverlets and she smiled bittersweetly. She'd enjoy herself today, but tomorrow she'd make it clear to the captain that she was not interested in his attention. That was the only logical thing to do—before the situation got out of hand.
Lieutenant Warrington brought the sled along a frozen creek and pulled the horses to a halt on a hilly crest above a frozen mill pond. Sterling jumped out and unloaded a picnic basket before he offered Reagan his hand to assist her out of the sled.
Reagan's toes touched the ground and the snow crunched beneath her feet. The countryside here was breathtaking with its rolling hills, jutting rocks, and dense pine foliage. An abandoned mill house was built on the far side of the pond, its miller's wheel silent and still. "This where we're going to eat?"
"And skate. " Sterling produced two pairs of iceskates from the sled's floor.
Reagan clapped her mittened hands. "Oh, I haven't skated in ages!"
He patted one of the prancing horses' rumps and the sled slid forward. Retrieving the skates and basket, he started off down the hill toward a fallen log.
"They're not coming?" Reagan followed in his tracks, glancing over her shoulder at the retreating sled. The lieutenant and Anne were locked in an embrace as the horse and vehicle disappeared into the tree line.
"They'll be back later. " He gave a wink. "They just wanted some privacy."
"Oh. " Suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh! Ooooh." Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.
Heartened by Reagan's refreshing innocence, Sterling dropped his hand over her shoulder and kissed the point of her hood. "Sit on the log and I'll put your skates on for you."
She laughed, snatching the iron skates from his hand and ran ahead. "You put your own on!"
A few minutes later they were skating on the small pond. Around and around in circles Reagan skated. The frigid wind on her face was exhilarating as she gained speed, her long legs pushing harder and harder. It felt so good to be out in the fresh air, away from the responsibilities of home.
"You're a daring woman in deed as well as word," Sterling observed. He skated idly in the middle, watching her as she moved faster and faster until it seemed as if she flew over the frozen pond.
"Daring, how?" She skated past him, knocking his wool hat off his head. The sunlight reflected off his golden hair.
"If you hit the bank you could break your neck. Women don't generally take chances."
"So I won't hit the bank," she called over her shoulder. She skated a figure eight and then a bow, closing in on Sterling.
He caught her sleeve and looped his arm through hers. Side by side they skimmed over the ice. "My brother and I used to skate by the hour. We used to stay out on the river until long after dark. " He smiled nostalgically.
"You have a brother?"
He licked his dry lips. "Did. But he's dead. " He didn't know what made him say it—a love of the dramatic he supposed. "His name was Sterling. We were twins."
Reagan looked at him. What was that she heard in his voice? Pain, she supposed, but something more. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to pry."
He released her arm and skated away. "No harm done."
"What did he die of?" It was her turn to stand in the center and watch him skate circles around her.
"Lead poisoning."
"What do you mean?"
He chuckled, mirroring Grayson's arrogance. "My brother joined the wrong side. He died of lead poisoning, a musket ball through his chest. It was somewhere on Long Island. " Actually it was his good friend Luke who had died on that muddy bank on Long Island back in the summer of '76. He'd held Luke's battered body in his arms as his best friend's life's blood had spilled into the mire.
"So he was one of us. " She skated over to him, taking both of his gloved hands. "I wish I could have known him. He sounds like the kind of man a woman like me could love."
Sterling pushed forward and Reagan skated backward, guided by his powerful arms. The warmth that shone in her eyes made him jealous, though of what, he wasn't quite certain. His story was fictitious, the brother he spoke of was a mixture of Luke, of Grayson, and of himself. If he and Reagan could have met in a different place, a different time, if she could have known who he truly was, would that warmth in her voice have been directed toward him?
The two skated in silence for a while and then Sterling led her to the bank. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved."
Seated on the fallen log, Reagan watched him build a small crackling fire and then unload the lunch basket. She oohed and ahhed at the delicacies he produced. There was a long loaf of bread from the baker's, a wheel of yellow cheese, slices of ham, polished red apples, and dusty bottles of ale.
Sterling spread out a wool blanket and served her as if she was royalty. The two laughed and chatted about their childhood, about memories of
warm kitchens and soft down feather testers . . . even about their first kiss.
"What was her name?" Reagan laughed, her soft, husky voice mingling with the wind.
"Esther, Esther Gunthrie. We were thirteen and it was in the milkhouse behind her father's barn. My brother told me later he had kissed her in the same milkhouse the week before!"
Reagan dissolved into laughter again. "I was fifteen. " She looked away, her face softening. "Joshua asked permission. We were supposed to be studying, but he was just watching me. He said he couldn't keep his mind on his books. " She blushed, embarrassed. "He said he couldn't think of anything but my lips and he was going to die if I didn't let him kiss me just once."
Sterling was stretched out on the blanket, toying with the hem of her cloak. "So you let him?"
"I was more interested in getting our studies done for the day than kissing so I figured it was the quickest way."
Sterling sat up and pulled her into his arms. "I can see why he would say these lips are irresistible. " He leaned to kiss her and she pulled back.
"Grayson, please."
"What? It's just a kiss."
She gazed into his eyes, raising her hand to stroke his clean-shaven cheek. "Why are you doing this? There are so many other women in the city, women far more willing, far less trouble."
"I like you. " He brushed his thumb against her lower lip.
When his mouth met hers, she gave no resistance. Hot, tingling desire flowed through her chilled limbs as he played her lips in a dance of seduction. A heat spread from Reagan's midsection radiating outward as his warm hand caressed the roundness of her breasts beneath her cloak. She ran her fingers through his soft, golden hair, in awe of the emotions he sparked inside her.
Their tongues met, and she moaned deep in her throat. His taste, his smell, the feel of his hands on her flesh, was intoxicating. He lowered her onto her back, calling her name, whispering sweet words of woo. The sky spun above and Reagan struggled to catch her breath as Sterling lifted her petticoats.
"Grayson, no. Please. " She looked up at him, tucking a lock of blond hair that had escaped from his queue behind his ear. "I can't," she whispered. "You mustn't."
Something snapped inside Sterling and he relaxed, burying his face in her sweet-smelling hair. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his blood coursing through his veins. What was he thinking? He hadn't let his lust get the best of him since he was seventeen! But it was more than lust with Reagan . . . he could feel it deep within him. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew he had fallen in love with her.
Reagan lay perfectly still, her arms flung over her head. She stared up at the darkening sky through the leafless branches of the oak tree that loomed above them. She listened to her own breathing becoming more regular. The smell of Sterling's shaving soap, the weight of his head on her shoulder slowly brought her back to reality. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice still raspy.
Sterling pushed himself up on one elbow and smoothed a lock of thick, shining hair that fell over her shoulder. "It's all right."
"I should never have come. This was a terrible mistake. I didn't mean to lead you on."
He stared down at her with those eyes as blue as the heavens. "I know you didn't."
She sighed heavily, looking away, unable to stand his scrutiny. "I don't know what to say. I know who you are, I know what you are, but still, I can't—" She left her sentence unfinished for lack of the right words.
Sterling sat up, offering her his hand. She sat cross-legged beside him, and he brushed the snow off the back of her cloak. He knew no way to comfort her. Silently he chastised himself for having ever brought her along. Every hour they spent together a thread grew stronger between them. She was the forbidden, yet her nearness had become as vital to him as the cause he fought for.
Reagan's voice broke the silence. "You know what I wish?"
He took her cold hand, slipping a woolen mitten over it. "What do you wish?"
"That you were him."
His gaze rested on her dark, penetrating eyes. "Who?"
"Your brother Sterling, because then it would be all right, wouldn't it?"
Sterling stood, brushing the snow from his own cloak. Sleigh bells jingled in the distance. "I cannot change who I am," he said in his brother's voice.
She smiled sadly. "Nor can I, Captain."
Reagan hooked her cloak on a peg and entered the kitchen. The smell of pigeon stew and fresh-baked bread permeated the air. Self-consciously, she smoothed the knot of hair at the nape of her neck, knowing how unruly it had to look after that tumble in the snow with Grayson.
The ride back into the city had been quiet. She had said little to Grayson, leaving the two men to talk among themselves. Her mind was too jumbled for conversation. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. She had always thought she knew right from wrong. Her life had always been as black as ink, as white as the paper pulp her father ran through his presses. But now—there were a thousand shades of gray.
Grayson was the enemy. He was the conquering army. But Grayson was also kind, he was fun, he was gentle. The man who had held her in his arms today had not been the man who had stood in that cold barn only a few weeks back ready to watch that boy hang. But it was the same man! How could she have kissed him with such wild abandon? How could she have let him touch her like that, made her feel that way? She knew she should feel shame, but she didn't. Only utter, bitter confusion.
Seeing no one downstairs, Reagan mounted the staircase. She'd brush her hair and wash her face; perhaps that would do something to calm the unrest she felt in her heart. She needed her father, her sister. Their presence would chase the demons from her mind, leaving her to think more clearly.
Reagan paused near the tall case clock on the upper landing, thinking she heard Elsa. It was nothing more than a squeak. "Elsa?" She stopped to listen, raising her voice. "Elsa!"
When she heard no reply she ran down the hallway and burst into her sister's bedchamber. To her horror Lieutenant Gardener had Elsa pinned beneath him on her four-poster bed. Her skirts were hiked up and thrown over her head; his breeches were down around his knees.
Reagan snatched the lieutenant's pistol off the cherry sidetable.
Chapter Ten
Reagan brought the weapon down sharply on the back of Roth Gardener's head and he pitched forwards falling unconscious over Elsa's prone body.
"Elsa?" Reagan flung the pistol to the floor and climbed onto the bed, rolling the officer off her sister. "Elsa, are you all right?" She clasped Elsa's face between her palms, her own tears falling onto her sister's pale cheeks.
Elsa's teary gaze met her sister's. "Reagie?"
"Oh, thank God you're all right!" Reagan threw her arms around Elsa's trembling shoulders.
Elsa struggled to sit up, pushing her skirts down. "I told him I wouldn't do it," she said angrily. "Papa would be awful mad if I got in circumstance."
"He didn't—" Reagan couldn't find the right words. " . . . Take liberties?"
Elsa shook her head, climbing off the bed. "He tried but he couldn't. He said something 'bout damned drink. " She bent over him. "I hope you didn't kill him. He didn't really hurt me."
Reagan threw the corner of the counterpane over the lieutenant's naked buttocks and bounced up off the bed. She clasped her sister's hand. "You're certain you're not hurt?" She wondered how her little Elsa knew anything about being in 'circumstance' but decided this wasn't the time to ask.
"No, he didn't hurt me. He brought me a sweet roll from the baker. He wanted me to drink claret"—she wrinkled her delicately upturned nose—"but I don't like claret, so I didn't have any."
The lieutenant moaned and moved slightly and Reagan glanced at him sprawled on her counterpane. "You go down to the kitchen and wait for me. I'll take care of Mr. Gardener."
Elsa walked to the door, then turned back. "Don't be mean to him, Sister. He didn't hurt me. I felt sorry for him. He said he just wanted a little love. He said nobody l
oved him. Everybody should be loved, and I think it's a sad thing."
"Just go downstairs and wait. " When Elsa had gone, Reagan went to the lieutenant and poked his bare calf with the toe of her boot. "Mr. Gardener," she said angrily. "Mr. Gardener, wake up!"
He stirred, but only long enough to turn his face to the other side. He remained lying face-down. Blood oozed from a cut on the back of his head. "Help me," he moaned.
"Lieutenant, if you bleed on my deceased mother's counterpane, I'll kill you for sure! Now get up!"
He stuck out a hairy arm and tried to roll over, but fell back into the goosedown pillows.
Reagan was standing in indecision, her hands perched on her hips, when Sterling entered the room. "Elsa told me what happened. Did you kill him?"
She faced Sterling, her face flushed with anger. "No, I didn't kill him, but only because he wouldn't be worth the powder. That pettifogging bastard tried to rape my sister."
"I know. She told me, but she's all right. You were in time."
"Maybe today, but what about the next time?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Either you get him out of my house tonight, Captain, or I'll kill him. I swear it!"
The tone of her voice told Sterling it wasn't a threat, it was a promise. "All right, Reagan. I'll take care of it. " He went to the bed and grasped the lieutenant by the waist, hauling him to his feet.
"How will you do it? He's been assigned here permanently."
"I don't know, but I'll take care of it. " Sterling leaned the now semiconscious officer against the bedpost and yanked up his breeches. "Come on, Roth. Up with you."
Gardener's head lolled from side to side as Sterling dragged him out of Elsa's bedchamber. Reagan followed behind, the lieutenant's coat thrown over her arm, his pistol and belt clasped in her hand. She entered the bedchamber Roth Gardener was occupying and dumped his belongings on a mahogany chair near the door. "I'm taking my sister and going to sup with my mother's cousin on Walnut. When I come back, I want him gone, Captain."
Sterling laid Roth none-too-gently on the bed and spun around angrily to face Reagan. "I said I would take care of it," he snapped. "But mind you, this is the last time I cover your attractive little bottom!"
Temptation’s Tender Kiss Page 10