"But you cross me . . . you so much as wink in the wrong direction and I'll slit you from yer belly to yer nose. You got it?"
Cassie nodded her head yes, her eyes still squeezed shut. She was so frightened, she couldn't move. It was all she could do to manage to keep her chin held high enough to keep the blade from sinking into the soft flesh of her throat.
The first man gave a chuckle. "This here's your lucky day, cause yer gonna get a taste of two of the finest men on the Chesapeake, little lady!" Giving her a shove, the two of them pushed her through the row of horses and toward the barn.
Cassie stumbled, losing a shoe as they shoved her forward, pinned between them. Please, please, she begged silently, the tears running down her cheeks. Please, someone come out of the tavern! But already they had turned the corner. In the twilight, no one would spot her now. Her mind whirled in stunned confusion as they half dragged, half carried her toward the barn. Where was Devon? Inside, and it was all her own hotheaded fault. If she was going to escape from these men, it would have to be by her own wits.
Devon sipped on his whiskey, one foot propped on a chair. Damn that woman! She was impossible! Why should he be so concerned that she was furious at him over this? He was looking out for her best welfare— what did he care what she thought? He groaned, sliding his booted foot to the floor. He'd be leaving in a few days. He just couldn't leave things unsettled like this; he had to make her understand. Slowly he got to his feet, reaching for the coat he'd flung over a chair. He'd just go home and make her understand. . . .
"You leaving?" Molly called out across the room as she spotted him heading for the door.
Devon raised a hand over his head to say good-bye, and slipped out of the tavern. Carrying his coat flung over a shoulder, he walked to his horse, untied him, and mounted. "Let's go home, boy." he soothed, pressing his heels into the black to back him up.
Then something caught his eye. Wasn't that one of the horses from Marshview's stables? He cursed under his breath. He thought Cassie had gone home! Where the hell was she? What business did a married woman have wandering around Dover at this time of evening unescorted and dressed as she was? Devon sat on the horse in indecision. He had half a mind to leave her and just go home. "No." he said aloud, sliding from Casper's back. "I'm going to find her now"—he shook a fist in the air—"and then I'm going to kill her!"
Throwing his frock coat over the saddle, he retied his horse to the rail and went over to look at his father's bay. The reins hadn't been disturbed. . . . Where ever she'd gone, she'd walked. He exhaled sharply. This was all he needed! Where in God's heaven was he going to find her?
Then he spotted the shoe on the side of the walk. Sweeping it off the ground, he stroked his chin. Wasn't this Cassie's? Weren't these the new black-and-gray heeled shoes he'd just bought her? Devon's heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. A girl who'd been as poor as she had been, a girl who ate pears core and all, wasn't someone who would leave one shoe - behind.
Devon's stomach tightened into a knot as he surveyed the nearly empty streets. Where had she gone? Was someone chasing her? Had someone abducted her? "Please God, no." he murmured beneath his breath. There were already tales circulating of friends and relatives just disappearing off the street never to be seen again. There were spies everywhere, people who were willing to betray anyone for a coin—and the Crown was paying well. But what would someone want with Cassie . . . except maybe to get at him.
Then he heard a sound, nothing more than a squeak . . . but the sound was human. "Cassie! Cassie!" Devon called, dropping the shoe and racing around the side of the tavern. "Cassie! Where are you?"
"Devon!" Cassie's scream pierced the early evening air, sending a shiver down Devon's spine.
Devon heard her scream again as he ran blindly, and then there was silence. The barn! She had to be in the barn! Down the walk he ran, his feet barely touching the ground. Like a fool, he realized, he'd left his pistol at home.
Reaching the barn behind the tavern, Devon flung open a side door. "Cassie!" he shouted. "I'm here." As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the barn, he spotted two figures in the corner. The silhouette of a woman lay crumpled in a pile of straw.
Devon crossed the distance between them in an instant, a fist flying to meet the closest man's jaw. "Cassie!" Devon shouted, ducking to avoid the second sailor's punch. "Cassie, are you all right?" The flash of metal caught his eye and he dove forward just in time to miss the blade's cut.
Rolling through the straw, he gave Cassie a nudge with his foot. "Please, let her be all right." he prayed silently as he came to his feet to meet his assailants.
"Devon." Cassie murmured, struggling from the depths of unconsciousness. She rubbed her chin where the pigtailed man had clipped her soundly. Then her eyes flew open. "Devon!" she screamed, her eyes focusing on the two men that stalked her husband.
"Run!" Devon ordered. "Run and get help!" Slowly he backed up, scrutinizing each man's cautious movements.
"The hell I will." Cassie called, scrambling to get to her feet. She grabbed a shovel from the wall, but lost her balance and fell back into the straw. The whole room spun and inky blackness threatened to take her again as he squeezed her eyes shut and eased her head back.
"Cassie, you all right?" Devon cried out just as his booted foot connected with the pigtailed man's chin.
Slowly, she raised her head to lean on the stall's rough boards. "I'm all right." she called, fighting the nausea that rose in her throat. Propped against the wooden rails, she watched Devon fight the two sailors, wishing desperately she could get up to help him. That last blow from the pigtailed man had really jarred her.
Blood ran from near Devon's eye and his linen shirt was stained red where the knife had nicked him in the arm, but other than that, he seemed fine. He was managing to keep both attackers at bay and making a little headway. The man with the pigtail, whom he'd kicked, still lay in a heap on the dirt floor, moaning something about a broken jaw. Now Devon had only to contend with the man wielding the knife.
Dazed, Cassie sat watching her husband fight the man who had nearly raped her. Devon fought like a crazed dancer, every movement fluid but strong. He ducked and leaped, his tall frame no disadvantage against the limber moves of the sailor. Suddenly the knife went flying through the air and Devon threw the entire force of his body onto the other man's. They rolled over and over again, Devon beating the man's face to a bloody pulp.
"Did he hurt you, Cassie?" Devon called to her, panting as he struggled to keep the sailor pinned. "Did he lay a finger on you?"
"I'm all right. Let 'em go before you kill 'em!" she returned, wiping the blood that still seeped from her split lip.
Then she spotted movement from the corner of her eye. The pigtailed man on the ground was going for the knife! Instantly, Cassie heaved herself up from the floor and grabbed the shovel. Swinging it up and over the man's head, she held it only inches from his skull, pressing one stockinged foot on his back. "I'm daring you." she threatened shakily, her head spinning. "Touch the knife and I'll slice off your face with the blade of this shovel." Her voice echoed hauntingly through the barn.
Slowly the man slid his hand back from the handle of the knife. Cassie kicked it to the far corner of the barn, then stepped back, lowering the shovel cautiously.
Devon pulled the red-capped sailor up and shoved him roughly toward the door. "Now you get the hell out of here before I call the high sheriff and have the pair of you hung!" He spun toward the man lying on the ground near Cassie's feet. "You too!" he bellowed.
"And if I lay eyes on you again, you're both dead men."
The pigtailed man scrambled to his feet and ran, clutching his jaw. He shoved past the first man, making it out of the barn just ahead of him.
The moment the men disappeared through the door, Devon was at Cassie's side, taking her in his arms. "Cassie, Cassie, my love." he murmured in her hair. "Are you all right?''
The shovel dropped from her limp hand
s and a sob escaped her throat as she flung her arms around his neck. "I was so afraid." she sobbed, clutching him tightly. "So afraid you wouldn't come . . ."
"Nonsense." he hushed, brushing the hair from her face. "It's all right. You're going to be all right. I've got you."
Sobs wracked her body as she held on to him, unable to control her weeping. "I feel like such a ninny." She buried her head in his shirt, letting his familiar scent wash the stench of the attackers from her mind.
"Don't." he told her, stroking her back. "There were two of them, you didn't know."
"I shouldn't have gotten myself into such a fix." She lifted her head off his shoulder. "I should have known better. It's just that I . . . I was so mad at you . . ." Her tears ran in streaks down her face, mingling with the blood that ran from her lip and a scrape on her cheek.
Devon held her against him, running his fingers through her hair and comforting her with soft words. It was difficult for him to believe he could love this girl this much, but he did, and that was the hard truth of it. The thought of any harm coming to her was more than he could bear. All he wanted was to keep her warm and safe.
"Cassie." He tipped back her head to stare at her face. "We have to get you cleaned up, care for this." Gently he ran his palms over the purpling bruise that stained one cheek. "Come on."
"No. I don't want to go back to Marshview." She sniffed. "Not like this." She peered up at him through a veil of heavy lashes. "Please?"
"All right." He wrapped a strong arm around her waist. "Can you walk? Just to the tavern?"
"Of course I can walk." she told him weakly. Then she stumbled, almost sending them both headlong into a pile of manure.
With one easy movement Devon reached down and swung Cassie into his arms. With a grunt, he moved forward, amazed that she weighed as much as she did. With those soft curves and long legs, he would never have guessed it. That's what comes from such a hard life, he mused as she nestled her head on his shoulder.
Devon pushed the rear door to the kitchen of the tavern open with a bang and closed it behind him with his foot. Reluctantly, Cassie released his neck and let him seat her on a low stool near the pie safe.
Silently, Devon moved about the small room, gathering a pan of water and a clean piece of towel to rinse her wounds. Pulling another stool over, he rolled up his sleeves and dipped the towel in the water. Hesitantly he reached out to dab her lip.
"Ouch!" Cassie winced, drawing back.
"Sorry, it's got to be cleaned." He smiled, leaning to press his lips lightly to hers. "You're a beauty." he teased, pushing the hair off her face with his forearm.
"Pox on you, you're a rotten liar." she replied, allowing him to work on her lip.
He laughed. "Well, perhaps you are a little worn around the edges at the moment."
She smiled, her eyes drifting shut as he pressed the cold cloth to her cheek. "I've ruined my new gown."
"Almost ruined your skull too." he chided. "You've got quite a knot here." Patiently, he dipped the towel in the water again and again until he'd wiped her face clean of the dirt and dried blood. "There, that better?"
She nodded. "Better."
"Good, now let's get home and get you into bed."
"No!" Cassie's eyes flew open and she grabbed his arm. "Please, not tonight." Her hand tightened around him. "Not tonight." she whispered.
Devon's eyes caressed his haggard wife's face. "It'll be fine. - I'll slip you in the back."
"No." She shook her head. "Just for tonight." She raised his hand to her lips. "Please?"
"Where are we going to go?" He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He looked nearly as bad as she did with his hair pulled from its queue, his shirt smudged with dirt and his breeches torn at the knee.
"Here." she answered softly. "Now let me get this eye." She took the wet cloth from him and raised it to the splotch of blood above his eye. "I'm sure George wouldn't mind. We can stay in the loft, he hasn't gotten a new girl yet." She gazed at him hopefully.
Devon paused in indecision. "Well, all right. Guess it can't hurt." He stood to drop a kiss on the top of her head. "Let me go find George."
Just then Molly came bustling into the back room. She stopped short when she spotted Cassie and Devon.
"Good God o'mercy!" she exclaimed, clasping her hand over her mouth. "You two get into a bout? Shame on you, hittin' on each other! Just like common trash!"
Devon looked at Cassie and they both burst into laughter.
"Well I'm sure glad you made up." Molly shook her head, going to the pie safe. "What'cha doin' in here, anyway?"
"Came in through the back." Devon answered, taking the bowl of water to dump it out the back door.
"I see." Molly nodded. "Didn't want people knowin' you beat your wife. You two just bein' married and all . . . 'specially with you sportin' that eye." She balanced a freshly baked peach pie on one hand.
"Looks like you got in a good one." she whispered aside to Cassie, giving her a wink.
Devon just shook his head. "Do you know where I might be able to find your master?"
"George? He's tappin' a keg out front. You want me to send him back here?"
"No, I'll come." Devon turned to Cassie. "You sit right there."
Cassie nodded her head. "No fear, love." she told him, rubbing her temple. "I won't be moving a stitch without you."
Devon went into the public room with Molly to settle with George. The proprietor refused any payment for their night's stay, saying he was just thankful Cassie wasn't harmed. Soon, Cassie was in Devon's arms again and he was carrying her up the stairs to the loft room that had been her own.
"I could really get to liking this." she teased. "You totin' me around and all." She looped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
"This may be the only way I can keep you out of trouble." Devon answered tartly, pushing the attic door open with his booted foot. "You think we're both going to sleep in that?" He motioned with his head in the direction of the narrow rope bed. "What am I going to do with my feet?"
Cassie held on to his neck as he slid her feet to the floor. "Where's your sense of adventure?" She smoothed his wrinkled shirt with the palm of her hand. "In a few months you'll be wishing you had a bed so fine."
He let out an exasperated sigh. "How do I let you talk me into these things?" He loosened his stock to remove it. "I ought to treat you more like a wife and—"
"And less like your whore?" Cassie interrupted, dropping onto the bed.
He held up a finger. "Now, I didn't say that."
She laughed tiredly."'Tis no insult, love. Many a man treats his whore better than his wife." She rolled her dusty stockings down her legs and tossed them on the floor.
"You have no fear of that from me." Devon shook his head, untying the string that held up his breeches. "I fear you'd slit my throat while I slept if you ever caught wind of my infidelity."
Cassie's eyes narrowed, a smile playing on her weary face. "Worse, love. You'd not get away so easily!"
He watched her sway as she stood to step out of her petticoats. "You'd better lay down before you fall." he told her, his voice laced with concern. "I'll not have you fainting."
"Me? Faint? Unbutton me." She turned her back to him. "I'm not the fainting kind. I've got better things to do with my time!" She let out a deep breath, enjoying the feel of Devon's hands as his fingers played on her back. When he'd unbuttoned the long line, she turned back to face him, her eyes coming to rest on his.
Devon took her chin with his hand and forced his mouth hard against hers. Dear God, he thought, I almost lost you today.
Cassie's arms went up around his neck and she pressed her body against his. She accepted his mouth hungrily, letting him push the terror of the incident far to the rear of her mind. Breathlessly, she finally pulled away, hugging him tightly before she let go.
"Now into bed." he whispered.
A few minutes later Cassie lay relaxed in De
von's arms, curled up against his side with her head on his broad chest. There they rested in the darkness, stretched out on top of the coverlet, their naked bodies pressed against each other's. Sounds of the tavern drifted through the floorboards, lulling them into a sleepy daze. Though it was warm in the small loft room, the heat went unnoticed as they bathed in the momentary closeness they both felt. Tomorrow they would wake with their differences balanced on their shoulders again, but for tonight . . . tonight they accepted God's gift of love and life and were content.
Chapter Eleven
Devon pushed back his three-cornered work hat, wiping the sweat from his brow. He squinted in the bright sunlight, looking up at Cassie on horseback. She was a fetching sight, dressed this morning in a bright blue lady's riding dress and beribboned cocked hat. Her fiery red hair was pulled fashionably to one side and tied with a knot of rosettes. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that he could see she had won the battle with Mary this morning. She was not riding sidesaddle! "So what brings you out in the dust, my sweet?" He walked beside her, his hand resting comfortably on the back of her saddle.
Cassie nodded at the field directly in front of them. "I want to see what you're doing. I want to know how you grow the tobacco."
Devon laughed, the muscles beneath his damp cotton shirt rippling. "I didn't take you to be a farmer."
She looked down at him, her green eyes dancing with pride. "My husband is a farmer, that makes me a farmer." She dropped a gloved hand on his shoulder. Neither of them had made mention of his going to New Jersey without her since the day she'd been attacked. Both felt the strain between them, but neither was willing to bring up the subject. It was still too raw. But Cassie was just biding her time, she hadn't given in. She watched him pack and write orders; she saw him leave for his drills and return with the excitement coursing through his veins. He'd not go without her, she was sure of that.
Devon glanced up at his wife. "You're serious, aren't you? You really are interested."
The Officer's Desire Page 11