Crystal Passion

by Jo Goodman

  Davinia was genuinely bewildered and not a little frightened. Nigel's face was uncomfortably flushed but his eyes were as cold as stones. "I cannot help but hear you, Nigel," she said quietly in an effort to calm him. "I still do not understand why your ward and the Yankee cannot be wed. "

  "They are brother and sister! As God is my witness, Ashley shall not have her brother! She belongs here, with me, as Anne did!"

  Davinia felt a cold sort of growth begin in her stomach. It was not what the duke said about Ashley and Salem that filled her with dread but rather what he said about his own sister. She reached for her robe and slipped into it, hugging the fur collar to her throat. Nigel was not looking at her; instead he was studying the fire, and in her mind's eye Davinia could see the portrait of Anne imposed on the flickering heat. Turning her head toward the cheval glass she examined her own reflection and saw herself as she was certain Nigel had been seeing her for years. She and Anne shared the same delicate bone structure, clear blue eyes, and hair that highlighted gold and silver strands. In that moment she felt a killing hatred toward the man who was her lover.

  "Have I shocked you, Davinia?" Nigel asked at last, turning slowly toward her. "Does it offend your sensibilities that I loved my twin? Needed her as I needed the very air? No? I thought perhaps it wouldn't. You're a hardened woman, Davinia. So unlike Anne in that respect. She was an innocent. Totally unsuited to make her way through life without my protection. Her daughter is very much the same, don't you think?"

  Davinia nodded as Nigel's fascination with Ashley began to make sense to her. It was not that Ashley was his niece that interested him, but that she was Anne's daughter. "Yes, Ashley is unworldly, but then you took care to see that she remained that way."

  Nigel shrugged. "Perhaps I did try to mold her in something of her mother's image. In spite of my efforts, I could never quite rein in her spirit. It was intriguing how much she resembled Anne in temperament but not at all in her features. You, of course, palely imitate those features and have none of the temperament. I wish that it did not take two women to replace my Anne, but there you have it."

  Davinia did not even blink at his announcement; it was no more than she had expected. "Then when you make love to me—"

  "Make love? I bed you. You are naught but a fair form to assuage my needs."

  Even Davinia was not immune to such perverse cruelty. She struck back to hurt him. "And Anne?" she asked archly. "Was she naught but a fair form? Did you bed her?" Her voice rose hysterically. "Did you lay with your own sister?"

  Nigel's jaw tightened and a vein throbbed in his temple. "You would be wise to tread carefully, Davinia."

  Recklessly she persisted. "You never touched her, did you? God, how that must have maddened you! Did you want to crawl between silken sheets with her?" A heated flush slowly rose in the duke's face. Davinia laughed shrilly, pointing a sharply filed nail at him. "You really are a perverse bastard, Nigel Lynne."

  Nigel cut off his mistress's bitter laughter with a slap to her cheek that sent her reeling backward. "Damn you!" One hand wrapped around her slim neck. "You know nothing of what I felt for Anne. If she did not understand, how can you? I loved her! God, how I loved her! She was part of me, and she should have been subservient to my wishes. Yet Anne always chose to oppose me, and then she refused to fall in with my plans one too many times. I had no choice but to punish her. I arranged for her to marry the old Earl." His voice lowered as his fingers tightened. "She should have been pleased that I let her off so lightly. Do you know how she thanked me, Davinia?"

  "Nigel," she choked. "You're hurting me."

  He shook her. "Do you know how she thanked me?"

  "No. No, I don't know." Davinia's fingers came up to claw at the Duke's hand, but even though she drew blood it had no impact on his grip.

  "She ran from Linfield and spread her legs for Robert McClellan. Anne had that commoner's child." Abruptly he released Davinia and watched narrowly as she scrambled to the far side of the bed and massaged her bruised skin. "You're such a coward, Davinia. Anne never shrunk away as you do. She stood up to me, even at the last."

  "At the last?" Davinia asked huskily.

  Nigel spoke softly, as though to himself. "I had to prove she belonged to me in the only way I could. I had to show her I had the right to end her life."

  Davinia did not want to hear anymore. Nigel's eerie confession made her fear for her safety.

  Nigel accurately read her expression and smiled coldly. "I do believe you think I mean to do you harm. I have in mind nothing of the sort. Though I find you provoking beyond reason at times, I find you adequate, even amusing in bed."

  "Then you know I would never repeat anything you told me."

  "I know it. It would be your word against mine. And who ever believes the rantings of a discarded mistress? That is what you would be should you ever open your mouth. I wonder if your pride could stand that?"

  She understood perfectly and knew him to be right. "Why did you tell me any of this?"

  "Because you needed to learn the consequences of your insatiable curiosity. I have grown weary of your constant badgering. Come here, Davinia." He motioned to a point on the bed nearer to where he stood. Slowly she complied. "There's a good girl." He sat beside her. "D'you know I've never told anyone what I've told you. Surely that counts for something between us." She nodded. His pale hands softly stroked the bruises on her neck, and when she didn't flinch he smiled encouragingly. Gradually his fingers slipped the robe from her shoulders and traced the line of her collarbone. "You do understand that Ashley has to come back to Linfield? No, don't pull away. I want to touch you."

  Davinia forced herself to relax. "I find it disconcerting for you to fondle me and talk of your niece."

  "My ward," he corrected idly. "I have never really thought of her as my own flesh and blood. I suppose it's a matter of her commoner father. Here, lie back, Davinia." His fingers trailed over her pale breasts as she complied. "You're quite lovely in your own way, you know. I think I've not appreciated it before. I suspect I've grown fond of you after a fashion. That has never happened with Ashley."

  "Then you've never felt any desire for her."

  Nigel flicked at her hardened nipples with his tongue. "You always like that, don't you? I do know your body, Davinia. I know what brings you pleasure." He kissed her pouting mouth. "And pain." He bit her full lower lip. "And how they mingle." His mouth crushed hers hard. When he lifted his head she was staring at him with darkening eyes. "There are different sorts of desire, I think. I never wanted to bed Ashley, if that is what you mean. But I have desired to make her bend to my will. And she will bend, or I shall break her."

  Davinia shivered and hoped Nigel believed it to be his deft hands that had provoked it. "How will you bring her back? She has that Colonial as a protector."

  "I have already said I will employ someone to do it. There is a man I can trust to see to the deed. He has been helpful in the past and will know I am prepared to pay handsomely for her return." Nigel drew a spiral pattern on Davinia's abdomen and felt her flesh come alive beneath his touch. "Salem McClellan is the least of my worries. Your husband has generally been cooperative with news and in following your gently worded instructions. Though he does not understand, he has already set in motion certain things that will hurt McClellan. If it weren't for the damn uprising, Salem would be back here on the smuggling charges." He laughed rather grimly. "D'you see how people are against me, Davinia? D'you begin to understand why I have to take control?"

  Was he teasing her, or did he truly believe the Colonies were in rebellion to thwart him? She tried to remove his hands from her waist "Nigel, please. I must think. I don't want to make love right now."

  He ignored her pathetic plea and applied himself skillfully to her complete arousal. Her attempts to fight him off came to nothing, and only when she had clearly changed her mind about making love did he pull back. "Davinia, you truly are a delight. So hungry for what I can give you that you w
ould trust me against your better judgment." He shook his head regretfully as he straddled her hips. "Ashley could tell you never to trust me. She could tell you that I lie a great deal. What a pity you won't be here when she returns."

  While Davinia stared at him, her eyes a mixture of horror and fascination, Nigel's hands closed slowly over her throat.

  * * *

  "Ashley, if you're tired why don't you go on up to bed? I'll be done with these ledgers in a short while."

  She yawned and looked at Salem's bent head with some exasperation. It was nearly midnight; the rest of the family had long since retired to their respective beds. But Salem had stubbornly insisted he would finish the books. Ashley's gentle smile was comment enough that she intended to wait her husband out. Sympathetic looks from Charity and Robert made her even more determined to discover what was troubling Salem. It was more than the work in front of him, she was certain of it. If anything his state of agitation made it more difficult for him to settle the accounts.

  "Why should you think I'm tired? And you've been saying the same thing about those books for several hours now."

  He frowned without glancing up. "They're damn plaguey things. Noah always saw to these matters." He thrust his quill roughly into the inkwell then swore when the tip bent and had to be sharpened.

  Ashley was thoughtful. Her chin rested comfortably on the back of one hand while she sat curled against the bolster pillow on the divan. The other hand patted her rounded belly, absently soothing the babies who were working up to a brawl. Outside, sharply cold November winds lashed at the windows. Yet none of nature's frenzy attracted her attention. It was all for Salem.

  His coal black hair was mussed at the brow where his fingers had woven his frustration. His skin was pulled taut over the bones of his face, making him seem violently intense for all that he was still. He had yanked at his cravat early in his work, and now his shirt lay open at the throat, revealing his leashed anger in the thrumming of his pulse. Ashley wished he would lose control, even if it meant lashing out at her. It pained her to see him so coiled with tension and it hurt her that he would not speak of what troubled him.

  Her mind flew back to her wedding day. Although a little more than four months had passed, she remembered everything that had happened in Tildy's pantry. And by far the most important occurrence was Salem's insistence they should share their thoughts. Clearly he had forgotten.

  Ashley felt compelled to remind him. "It was terribly inconsiderate of Noah to go off to war and leave you to do battle with the ledgers."

  Her waspish derision, so unlike her, brought Salem's head up. "That sort of remark ill becomes you, Ashley. I think you must be excessively tired. Go up to bed."

  Not by so much as a flicker of her thick lashes did she show her agitation. She stared him straight in the eye, her face serene. Her voice was quiet, lilting. "And in one breath you have proven yourself to be patronizing, pigheaded, and pompous."

  He tried to restrain himself but it was no use. His lips twitched. The knowing curve of Ashley's lips forced his smile. "Patronizing and pompous, perhaps. But pigheaded?" he asked.

  "There has been something troubling you since Noah left in late August, and you have yet to speak of it. I have reached the end of my patience. The first few days I thought you reserved. Later I thought you stubborn. Tonight I think you—"

  "Pigheaded."

  "Precisely. Salem, we agreed on our wedding day to speak of what bothered us. Perhaps I have taken it too much to heart and burdened you unnecessarily, but—"

  "Never. You've never done that."

  "Then make good on your promise. Is it Noah's leaving that has made you so testy?"

  Salem tossed the quill aside and pushed his chair back. Stretching, he placed his folded hands on his thigh. "Have I been so awful?"

  She sighed heavily. Darlene had warned her McClellan men had difficulty following a conversation when they had something to hide. "Shall I tell you what I think? I think you are unhappy because Noah is in Massachusetts, trying to oust the British regulars, and you are stuck here with a fat, plaguey wife and fat, plaguey ledgers. You only take the Caroline out on the shortest of junkets, and when you return it seems as if you resent being here. I think you regret ever telling me you would not join Mr. Washington because that is exactly where you want to be at this moment." She held her breath and waited for his reply.

  Salem shut his eyes as his head fell back. "You know you are exaggerating," he said tiredly.

  "Only a bit."

  "You are not fat."

  She smiled faintly. "Please, Salem. Please confide in me."

  He was silent for a long time. Finally she realized he was gathering his thoughts. Even the babies had quieted as she anticipated his response.

  "I think you understand that I want to contribute toward this effort for independence," he said finally. "But I don't think you know how important it is to me. The truth is that I have been involved in activities—treasonous activities—for some time now. I hoped to keep it from you because I knew you would worry."

  "What sort of activities?"

  "In the past I have been a courier, delivering messages of a delicate nature to Franklin when he was still lobbying Parliament. I have planned and led raids on places where the British store munitions and committed certain illegal acts to discourage custom officials from making life so difficult for free Yankee trade." He opened his eyes and stared at his hands, unable to meet Ashley squarely. "Of late I have been scouting the coast and navigable backwaters for evidence of British troops. There are any number of places the redcoats can land, and the militia has to be ready up and down the shore. When I take the Caroline out, it is not for pleasure but for duty, and when I return it is not resentment that you see but a kind of apprehension that time is eroding the peace I have always known at the landing."

  "I see," she said quietly. She considered all he had said thoughtfully. Although her stomach felt queasy when she thought of the danger he had been facing, it was something else that filled her with sick dread. "Was your fear of worrying me the only reason you kept silent for so long?"

  He met her eyes. "Yes. What other reason would I have?"

  "Perhaps you do not trust me."

  Salem crossed the room in three swift strides, taking Ashley's hands as he sat beside her. "I trust you with my heart, my mind, my very life. Otherwise I would never have told you what I just did. Rae, Leah, and Mother know nothing, and it is not because I don't trust them."

  "But your father and brothers know. I think your notion of protecting your women is misguided. None of us is so very fragile, Salem. I am certain Darlene suspects Gareth is involved in your exploits, and she has not wilted with the news."

  "Darlene no longer suspects. She knows. It was your encounter with Smith in Williamsburg that saw to that."

  "You mean the young man who knocked me over? I had forgotten his name."

  "I doubt that it is his name. But no matter, you can be certain he has not forgotten you. He is the man who directs my activities. At one time it was through the Sons of Liberty. Of late it comes from Washington's camp. Darlene suspected Smith's involvement and Gareth confirmed it. I let the matter pass when I was told because I—"

  "Did not want to worry me." She shook her head. "That is a very sad chorus, Salem. I wish to know when I may hear the last of it."

  "Consider it done."

  "Good," she said briskly. Then, "Oh!" Her eyes widened.

  "What is it?"

  "The babes are marching to 'Yankee Doodle.' Feel." Salem put his hand over Ashley's abdomen, grinning at the kicking while Ashley hummed the tune the British played to scorn Colonial bumpkins. At some point Americans had claimed it proudly as their own, thus taking away the ditty's sting.

  Salem kissed Ashley's closed mouth as she continued to hum. Finding that he could not win her over, he joined her. Lips touching, they finished the tune laughing.

  "I delight in you, Mrs. McClellan." With her complete coop
eration he managed to curl around her on the divan so she fit snugly against him. One of his arms rested protectively around her middle, and his fingers tangled with hers. He breathed deeply of her wildflower fragrance and knew himself to be content.

  "Tell me why Smith hasn't forgotten me," Ashley asked at length.

  "Smith is something of a puzzle. He is not the sort of man who trusts many people. He's angry, bitter, and takes some pains to hide it. I don't know much of his background, but I do know that he is as honorable as he is hard. Smith and I share a mutual respect that was rather grudgingly given after some difficult moments together. But he thinks I have taken leave of my senses for marrying you. He has no ties himself, so he doesn't understand how it is between us. He is skeptical of my confidence in you. I suspect he made it a point to seek you out and make his own judgment. He won't forget what he thought of you."

  "But our meeting was so brief," she protested. "How could he form an opinion on such a basis?"

  "It is not a matter of an opinion but a good opinion that concerns you. Why should that matter to you?"

  "I would not have him think less of you because of me."

  "It is more likely that I will think less of him if he can't see your worth," he said, giving her a gentle shake. "Anyway, I doubt you will care so much for his way of thinking when I tell you what he has planned for the new year."

  Ashley's fingers tightened on his. "I had planned to have some babies around that time," she said. "Will you have to go away?"

  "I won't leave until after you give birth. And when I go, you and the children are coming with me. We'll take a few servants to help you. And Meg, of course. She's at loose ends since Shannon took off on Noah's heels. She'll jump at the chance to pin him to that marriage proposal."

  Ashley could not take it all in. "Where are we going? Shannon is camped outside of Boston. That's so far."

  "I suspect I am explaining this very badly. We are going to New York. To Manhattan Island. It is only a ten day ride from here, but we will take the Caroline for your comfort."

  Bewildered, Ashley turned to face Salem. She grimaced at her swollen belly for making the movement so difficult and then keeping her from getting closer to her husband. "Yes," she said, mostly to herself. "I am certainly planning on having some babies. Now, Salem, perhaps a better question would be: Why are we going to New York?"