“You’re right about one thing,” Gunn said. “I am a goddamn stupid idiot when I get the fever in my prick. But I swear to you, I never bedded Ishani. Neither of us did anything wrong. Except for being guilty of fearing Scarappi, Ishani is blameless.”
The Frenchman laughed low in his throat. “You show me a woman, and I will show you a woman who is not blameless. They know what they want, all of them, and Ishani wanted you, Christopher Gunn.”
“You’re wrong,” Gunn contended. “She’s only a girl, a mere child who’s scared to death of the man her father says she must marry.”
The Frenchman narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “What the hell are you saying, Gunn?”
“Scarappi’s a crazy savage, we both know that. He’s already buried two wives with his cruelty. It’s not that Ishani wanted me—she simply wanted to run away from Scarappi. He’s the villain in all this.”
“Scarappi is no prince, but that still does not leave the girl blameless.”
Gunn had thought long and hard about this while riding to the camp. “You say Ishani must be punished?”
The baron nodded and took a deep breath, filling his flared nostrils with steam. Then he sat back, staring hard at the man across from him.
Gunn continued. “No woman who has disgraced her betrothed by running off to live with a foreigner should still have the honor of marrying a sagamore’s son. I say her punishment should be marriage to a lesser warrior.”
A long, tense silence followed. Finally the baron nodded. “Well put, Gunn. Now let us smoke.”
The Frenchman produced a long, white clay pipe and stuffed the bowl with crushed hemlock and ivy leaves. The two men sat in silence, passing the pipe back and forth, puffing until fragrant smoke mingled with the hot steam in the hut.
After a long while Castin spoke. “You will wed the Englishwoman?”
The question caught Gunn off guard. “I don’t know.”
“You should. It’s time for both of us to settle down. As you know, I plan to marry soon. You and I are strong. Our sons could rule this land someday after the fighting is over. A good woman, that’s what a good man needs.”
Gunn puffed the pipe silently, thinking of Alice. He visualized her blue eyes and fair hair, her comely form. He remembered her kisses, the way her small tongue caressed his with nervous little flicks, the way her lips quivered with need, the way her breasts trembled against his chest when he took her into his arms. The lodge was hot, but now the very blood in his veins seemed to be steaming.
“Oh, ho!” the Frenchman cried. “I see all this talk of marriage has stirred some action.”
Gunn looked down at the erection stiffening between his thighs. He grinned sheepishly. “An old habit I can’t seem to break,” he said.
“Who’d want to?” The baron laughed. “We’ve a cure for that ailment here. Nondawoc!” he called.
Immediately the pretty girl from outside joined them in the hut. Nondawoc knelt beside Gunn, smiling into his eyes.
“You like her? Good,” the baron said. “You two go ahead. Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here and smoke my pipe.”
Gunn heard nothing that Castin said. In his mind’s eye the dark face before him had changed. Instead of the pretty Indian woman he saw Alice’s bright blue eyes, shining with love and trust. He rose quickly.
“Time I was going,” he said. “I appreciate your gift, but you look in need of a maid yourself, Baron. Nondawoc,” he said gently, “the baron won’t disappoint you, if the stories I hear are true.”
Gunn walked stiffly out of the lodge. It would be tough riding in this condition, but he had to get back to the fort, to Alice, as soon as possible.
Chapter 6
Alice glanced back one last time as the party bound for Boston passed through the fort’s gates. She smiled and waved to Pegeen and the man who would be her husband as soon as spring brought fair weather and a parson this way. Alice hated leaving Peg here, the lone woman among so many men, but the girl was adamant about staying. “I won’t leave my man, mum, unless you order me to go with you. And then I won’t leave smiling. Sheamus O’Dare’s my whole life now. I love that big, strapping lad, I do.”
So Alice had agreed to leave the girl in Maine. Now she was headed for Boston alone, perched on a rough wagon seat as their small party followed a rutted Indian trail through the deep woods.
Fearful of another attack by coastal pirates, Sir William had hidden his ship in a sheltered cove down the coast. They would have to travel overland to reach the vessel that would take them to Boston.
Alice glanced toward the man beside her on the wagon seat. He sat tall and sturdy and determined, eyes straight ahead.
Yes, I’m alone, she thought. Even with Jonathan Hargrave protectively at her side she felt alone. She let a sigh whisper over her lips. What could have become of Christopher Gunn? Up to the very last moment before their departure, she’d expected to see him dash through the gates on his big black horse. But every clip-clop of the wagon team’s hooves was like a hammer nailing the coffin lid down on her dead hopes.
Would she ever see him again? she wondered. A fear-driven answer tolled like a death knell in her heart: Probably not.
Then she heard a rider pull up beside the wagon. Alice turned quickly, a smile lighting her face. It soon faded. It was Sir William, not Gunn.
“Are you warm enough, Lady Alice?” asked Phips, pulling hard on the reins to restrain his spirited horse.
“I’m fine,” she answered dully.
“Make sure she keeps covered up good, Hargrave. The wind’s bitter.”
Jonathan Hargrave shot Phips a cold look. He’d planned to take Alice to Boston, but not this way. He’d meant to be in charge of the trek and the woman. He didn’t need William Phips telling him what to do or how to take care of Alice. Phips even had the nerve to tell him he needn’t come along on this trip. But where Alice went, he went, and that was that.
Phips rode on to check the supply wagon ahead and to speak with the scout who’d just returned to the small band of travelers. He also wanted to get away from Captain Hargrave. The man’s surly manner stuck in his craw. He’d had no intention of inviting the captain along, but short of shooting him, there’d seemed no way to stop him from coming. He was like a great English mastiff, always there to guard Lady Alice, snapping at anyone who came too close. Granted, she needed protecting out in the wilds, but that should have been Gunn’s job. When, or if, Gunn showed up, there was bound to be trouble between the two men.
Where the hell was Gunn anyway?
Phips glanced this way and that, unconsciously searching the thick woods for any sign of his errant friend. Blast him, he thought. What was he supposed to do with Alice if Gunn never came back? It would serve him right if Hargrave ran off with his woman. If it weren’t for Gunn, they’d be on his ship bound for Boston this very minute. They’d waited around the fort entirely too long, expecting him to turn up. They needed to take advantage of the good weather that followed the year’s first snow. But it was too late as all signs pointed to another early winter storm closing in on the coast.
The scout, a young Spanish black from the Indies named Gomez, rode up to meet Phips. His horse was lathered from a hard gallop.
“There be trouble up ahead there, sir. Indians.”
“How many?”
“Six in the camp, maybe more in the woods.”
“A hunting party?” Phips asked.
“Could be.”
“You think they might be renegades?”
“I think so. What else they doing this close to the coast with winter on us?”
Phips thought for a moment. The last thing he wanted was to tangle with a band of randy young braves. They were the worst kind, taking orders from no man, raiding as the spirit moved them. He had to think of Lady Alice. While most Abenaki treated white women with some measure of respect, renegades did not share their nation’s generally gentlemanly behavio
r. One look at Alice’s shining gold hair, pretty face, and ripe figure, and there’d be no stopping them. He cursed himself for not bringing along a detail of soldiers from the fort. Even a small band of Indians was a considerable threat with only himself, Hargrave, Gomez, and three other men in tow.
“We’ll make camp here for the night,” Phips told Gomez. “Maybe by morning they’ll have moved on.”
Alice was glad when they stopped. Even though they had traveled for only a few hours, every muscle and bone in her body ached. How she longed for the smooth, steady roll of a ship beneath her instead of the jarring bumps of these rutted backwoods Indian trails.
She climbed back into the covered part of the wagon while Hargrave unhitched the team. She was too tired to eat, and she certainly wouldn’t bother to undress, just loosen her laces a bit. All she wanted to do was fall down and sleep. Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head and heard her bones crack.
She pulled down the blanket flap for privacy, then set to untying the tight laces of her bodice. She shivered in the cold, but she would be warm enough once she crawled under her bear fur. Suddenly the flap flew back. Jonathan Hargrave stood there staring at her, his hungry eyes fastened on her loose bodice.
“If you don’t mind,” she snapped.
He climbed into the wagon and dropped the flap behind him. “I’m staying here with you the night.”
“You are not! Leave this minute.”
He shook his head. “No, Alice. There’s danger out there in those dark woods. Indians. I’m here and I mean to stay put until the sun’s well up.”
“You’re only trying to frighten me,” she accused, realizing he had succeeded.
“You should be afraid. You’re far too brave for your own good.”
Her trembling fingers fumbled at her laces, tangling them into knotted chaos.
“Let me help you with that,” Hargrave offered.
Before Alice could protest, his fingers were at her breast, unsnarling the mess she’d made. She tried to draw away from him, but he tugged the laces gently, bringing her face close to his.
“You know I want to marry you, Alice.”
Alice turned away to avoid his kiss. She couldn’t let him know how his advances frightened her. “I haven’t said I’d marry you. I don’t even want you in here. I like my privacy.”
“Never mind your privacy, Alice. I’m here to see to your safety.”
“If you insist, Jon, you can watch over me as well from that side of the wagon as you can over here.”
He let go of her laces and seemed about to move away. But the moment Alice thought she’d made her point, he reached for her arm and pulled her close again, his eyes gleaming into hers with a hunger she’d never seen before.
“You aren’t afraid of me, are you? It’s not like you’ve never been bedded before. You’re a woman, Alice, not an untried girl. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been with a woman? Do you know how much I’ve wanted you from the moment we put out from England? I had no rights then, but since Gunn’s deserted you, I mean to stake my claim.”
“Jon, please.” Alice was feeling real panic. “Let me go.”
“I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered close to her ear. “I want to love you, Alice. This isn’t like back home. You saw Peg and her man. She’ll likely be with child or already a mother before they find a parson and speak their vows. There’s different rules in the wilds. I won’t take no for an answer. I mean to make you my bride, so there’s no need for us to wait any longer.”
Before Alice could answer, Jon leaned forward, capturing her lips and pressing her down against the blankets that would serve as her bed. She struggled against him, finally shoving him off her.
“Get out!” she yelled at him.
Reluctantly he moved to the far side of the wagon, still devouring her with his hungry gaze, but now he looked angry as well. “No, Alice, as I told you before, I’m staying here.”
She could hardly throw him bodily out of the wagon. Instead, she pulled the bear robe up over her head and turned her back to him. For a while she was too nervous to go to sleep. She could still feel his eyes on her. But finally weariness won out over her anger and anxiety. In a short time she was sound asleep, more exhausted than ever by the unpleasant scene with Hargrave.
Only after Alice was breathing steadily and deeply did the captain move from his spot. Quietly, slowly, he crept across the narrow space that separated him from the woman he wanted. He had Lady Alice figured out, he assured himself. She’d keep putting him off until she felt she had no choice but marriage. It was time he speeded things along.
Lifting the bear robe gently, he slid under it, fitting his tall, hard body to the warm curves of her back. He slipped an arm over her, letting his fingertips rest on one soft mound of flesh. He longed to stroke her, but he dared not for fear she’d wake. He lay there next to her, his groin throbbing, as he drank in her sweet woman’s smell.
“Lord, it’s been so long,” he moaned.
Gunn couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. He’d returned to the fort just a couple of hours after Phips and company departed. First he’d gone to Alice’s room, but it was empty. Next he’d searched for Phips, only to be told that the man had left with two wagons, several men, and the lady.
“Only one of the women?” he’d asked.
The fellow had pointed him toward the smithy’s hut. “The other one’s in there.”
Determined to get to the root of all this, Gunn had burst into O’Dare’s room when he found no one about the shop. Pegeen, beneath the thrusting blacksmith’s naked body, shrieked at the sight of him, but O’Dare was too well occupied to be interrupted at that moment. Gunn stepped back outside to wait until the other man finished his business. A short time later O’Dare walked out, hitching up his trousers and grinning from ear to ear.
“Lady Alice will have your hide, man,” Gunn warned the smithy.
“No, sir, she won’t. Me and Peg’s getting hitched soon as we find us a parson. ’Sides, Lady Alice done took off with Sir William and that Hargrave feller.”
“Took off? What the hell are you talking about? Where were they headed?”
“Down Boston way, is what Peg said. I ain’t for sure what it’s all about.”
Gunn wasn’t sure, either, but he meant to find out fast. Leaping onto his horse, he rode at full speed for the closed gates. The guard, seeing a black blur on its way, opened them up in the nick of time. Gunn never slowed down as he headed for the trail that would lead him to Phips’s ship. He had to overtake them before they sailed. He’d returned to the fort, ready to make his peace with Alice and plead with her to come live with him until they could be married. If he let her get away now, he might never find her again, especially if Hargrave was with her.
Gunn knew he’d been wrong about a lot of things in his thirty-five years, but he meant to make no further mistakes where Alice was concerned. Lord Geoffrey had been a wise man. He’d wanted the two of them to wed, and he’d been right all along about everything as far back as Gunn could remember. Hadn’t the old lord warned him time and again back in England to steer clear of other men’s women? He’d ignored that sage advice, of course, and look where it had got him—to a land where there were no eligible women at all. Punishment for your sins was one thing, but having nobody to share the rest of your life with would be a special kind of hell.
The big pines seemed to speed past on either side as he whipped his mount to a gallop, following a shorter, narrower trail through the woods that would carry him quickly, he hoped, to meet up with Phips’s party. Gunn’s mind worked at the same furious pace as his horse’s hooves.
All he could think of was seeing Alice again. Once he found her, he planned to convince her to give up her trip to Boston in favor of returning with him to his cabin. They’d winter over together, just the two of them, alone in cozy comfort. He never felt quite at ease anymore when he got away from hi
s woods. There was something about the wildness of Maine that suited his temperament far better than the tame and civilized atmosphere of Boston.
Alice would understand that, Alice would agree. She knew they were meant to be together. He knew it every time he looked into those heavenly blue eyes of hers, every time he held her in his arms and felt her warm breasts against his chest, every time he kissed her and tasted the sweet urgency of her pent-up passion.
He could see it all now—long snowy nights in front of a roaring fire with only the sigh of the winter wind through the tall pines to disturb their loving.
The powerful stallion slowed and whickered a warning, jerking Gunn out of his reverie.
“What is it, boy?” Gunn whispered.
The horse’s big head was raised, sniffing the wind. He snorted and pawed at the freezing earth. The hair on the back of Gunn’s neck rose.
“Renegades! I smell them, too. Easy now. We’ll just sneak past them.”
Soundlessly, the great black horse stepped along as gently as a kitten on padded paws. Gunn spotted their smoke. A moment later he heard their drunken voices. They’d just raided a village somewhere nearby. They’d be satisfied for the time being to lie around their fire and drink the whiskey they’d swiped. But when that was gone and they’d slept off their drunkenness, they’d set out again on their murderous mission. He had to find Phips’s wagons before these marauders did, or Alice’s life wouldn’t be worth a Birmingham copper.
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