He bowed. "Dance, Miss Emrys?"
"You read my mind," she replied, smiling to the others in the group. As the string quartet began to play, she moved sedately, her silk gown swaying about her feet. I've never had so much fun in my life, she thought with a smile in Richard's direction--the music, the dances, meeting the soldiers and their girlfriends. If only Christian--
Something drew her gaze to the room's entrance. Christian! She missed a step but caught herself in time. Any other time, she'd love this quadrille, but now, would it ever end? She stole another glance at the doorway to see Christian's eyes on her, a look of pleased surprise on his face. A few minutes later, his face held an expression of studied nonchalance, and she scolded herself for making her pleasure so obvious. Christian, you don't fool me, she wanted to say as she moved to the slow tempo of the music.
The music stopped and everyone smiled, their faces flushed with the heat. Richard led her from the dance floor, his hand wrapped around hers, her elbow by his side. "Would you like a glass of punch, Miss Emrys?" he asked with his lips close to her ear.
"You got it!" Frowning at her slip of the tongue, she spoke more demurely. "Yes, thank you, lieutenant. That sounds like a splendid idea."
"I shall return shortly." As Richard headed for the punch table, Gwen fanned herself vigorously and glanced around the room. Holding the fan close to her face, she peeked above it to see Christian by a far wall, talking to an officer whose name she couldn't remember. A thrill of satisfaction made her heart jump as Christian's gaze strayed in her direction before he focused his attention on the officer again.
A glimpse at the punch table showed Richard with a fellow officer, both of them deep in conversation. Now, if only Christian would break away from his companion to come to
her... She turned her back to him and languidly fanned herself, trying to look calm and collected, as if this evening was like any other, as if her stomach wasn't tied in knots.
Drink in hand, Christian came to stand beside her, startling her. "Gwen, how nice to see you here tonight," he said in his deep voice, making her heart beat faster than a castenet. "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He ran an appreciative glance over her, from the top of her head to the hem of her silk gown, his look warm and sensual.
"Yes," she said, swallowing hard.
Why couldn't she say something smart or flippant? Why did he always have this incredible effect on her? How handsome he looked in his dark blue breeches and navy blue coat with brass buttons, and a dark green vest--or waistcoat, did they call it? A faint trace of tobacco added to his charm, as if it had been woven into the fine woolen texture of his suit.
She smiled. "I'm enjoying myself, but what a surprise to see you here."
"So you consider me too rustic for these sophisticated pleasures?" he asked with a teasing grin.
Her face warmed. When would she ever learn to curb her smart mouth? "Hey, I didn't mean it that way. Rebecca once said that no one else from the settlement comes here, so naturally I thought..." She shrugged, at a loss for words.
"Normally that is so, but the military surgeon extended an invitation to me, which I gratefully accepted. As they say, 'All work and no play...,'" he said with an engaging grin. "'Tis pleasant to escape the confines of the wilderness now and then, don't you agree?" He sipped his drink but kept his eyes steady on her.
"Wilderness...yeah, you can say that again. And another thing--you do seem to be a busy man. I'm not sure I thanked you enough for taking such good care of me during my illness. If it hadn't been for you...well, I'd hate to think what might have happened." Vaguely, she heard the quartet playing a country dance, heard the murmur of voices as red-coated officers and elegantly-gowned women formed sets, but she wouldn't trade Christian's company for all the dances in the world.
"'Tis a doctor's responsibility to take care of his patients. But then, 'tis not every day I have the opportunity to care for such a lovely lady." He flashed her a roguish grin. "Sometimes the rewards make my endeavors truly worthwhile."
She bit her lower lip, looking up at him with no pretense or guile. "I like to hear you say those things."
"And I like to say them."
Passionate fantasies spiraled dizzily in her mind--Christian kissing her, their bodies entwined. She let her hand drop to her side, wondering how much longer she could maintain her poise.
"That light blue becomes you." Christian nodded toward her gown. "Brings out the color of your eyes." He looked at her closely. "I can't decide if your eyes are blue or green, or maybe blue-green."
"They're whatever color you want them to be." What a dumb answer. She gave him a warm smile, immensely pleased she'd managed to speak in a calm voice.
"In any event, you look quite lovely tonight." Christian's gaze ran over her again, drifting from the gown's low neckline to her face, a moment of awed wonder passing between them. Music and voices faded to nothing, as if the world had stopped spinning, as if she and Christian were the only people left on the planet. All her thoughts and dreams, everything she'd ever wanted in life, centered on this man.
She saw desire in his eyes, but did he care for her, or did she see only lust in his look? He sure knew how to turn on the charm, just like any hot-blooded American male in her own time.
And yes, he'd taken good care of her during her illness, but that didn't mean a thing. He'd would have done the same for any other patient. His hands appeared so strong and capable, yet she remembered their gentle touch. If only he were touching her now...
He spoke, jerking her back to reality. "Do you come here often?"
She ran her tongue along her lower lip. "Once before, at a musical."
"Ah, then I see I must inveigle more invitations." He raised his glass to his mouth, his gaze fixed on her, tempting her, taunting her, spawning a hundred brazen fantasies.
So many memories flashed through her mind--his every mood, every facial expression, his lighthearted and more serious moments. Despite the hours he spent in the saddle, Christian stood as tall and erect as any soldier here and was handsomer than any of them.
Gwen knew now what she'd waited for all her life, realized Christian was the only person who gave her present life any meaning. She'd give anything to hear him say the same to her. Hold me in your arms, she wished she could tell him. Drive me out of my mind with your kisses and never let me go. She knew why she'd remained untouched, knew Christian was the only man who could awaken the passion that even now threatened to overwhelm her.
"Gwen, I...," Christian reached out to brush his fingers along her cheek, then drew his hand back.
Richard returned, handing her a glass of punch. "I apologize for my extended absence. One of my commanding officers wished to discuss arrangements for the defense of the fort, and I could hardly break away." He swept a possessive glance over her, then gave Christian a curt nod. "'Evening, Norgard. Surprised to see you here."
Christian chuckled. "You're not the only one. I must be the eighth wonder of the world." He leaned closer to the officer and spoke in low tones. "Actually, my guards at the insane asylum let me loose this one night to see if it would cure me of my melancholia."
Richard gave him a look of barely-concealed contempt. "In other words, you didn't receive an invitation."
Christian drew back in mock surprise. "Oh, did I need an invitation? I thought these balls were open to everyone." He smacked his forehead in theatrical despair. "Don't tell me I dressed up for nothing! Well then, I must depart." With a wink for Gwen, he turned away, making as if to leave.
Giggling, Gwen drew him back, absorbing his body heat through his frock coat. "Oh, I think you can stay just this one time." She thought Christian had handled the situation very smoothly, and yes, she had to admit that Richard often got carried away with his own importance. But she'd keep her feelings to herself.
It wouldn't hurt to keep Christian guessing.
Chapter Ten
"I like weddings, don't you?" Gwen smiled at Mary Fletcher, wondering h
ow old she was. Rebecca had told her Mary's children were quite young, but the woman looked close to fifty, with gray hairs sprinkled among the brown, and sunburned, wrinkled skin.
Mary cackled. "Better 'n funerals, I always say."
"You got it there." Gwen turned her attention to the men, women, and children who crowded the spacious common room of the Conway house to attend Leah's wedding to Edward Horton. Voices filled the room, men and women talking and laughing, now and then glancing toward the front door, waiting for the minister. One young mother sat on a chair in a far corner, her bodice open while she nursed her baby.
Gwen resisted the temptation to scan the room. Had Christian come today? Her heart raced with the thought.
Oh, there he was! Christian stood by the wide fireplace, apart from the others, broodingly handsome in his white linen shirt, dark blue fustian breeches, and deep green waistcoat. How serious he looked. She wished she could go to him, say something to erase the worry lines from his face.
He must love Leah, she fretted, recalling the times Christian had spent with the other woman during the church services. Why did that reality hurt so much? Resolved to distract herself, she studied the room, admiring the oak table and chairs, the brass chandelier and iron wall sconces, the colorful printed curtains at the front windows.
Leah stood between her parents, looking quite pretty and radiantly happy. No wonder Christian cared for her. A spurt of jealousy stabbed Gwen, as painful as a migraine. At least, Leah was marrying another man. What would she do if Leah were marrying Christian? she wondered, determined to stop pining over the man.
The Reverend Ebenezer Endicott stepped through the open doorway, the guests breathing a collective sigh of relief.
"Sorry I'm late, good people. Just finished with a funeral far to the east, so I've had a long ride." He drew a small book from a pocket of his black frock coat and fussed with his spectacles, polishing them and holding them up to the light, then he carefully slipped them on.
His look settled on Leah and Edward. "Will the bride and groom please step forward." All conversation stopped, all eyes shifting to Edward and Leah at the front of the room as the minister found his place in the Book of Common Prayer.
While the bride and groom exchanged vows, Gwen sneaked a look at Christian, alarmed that his sober expression had deepened. As if aware of her scrutiny, he looked her way and smiled, a quick bright smile that made her heart beat faster.
Like a flash of light in a dark room, a sudden comprehension jolted her. She loved him, a fact she could no longer deny. All those hours they'd shared--at the frolic, during Bryony's sickness and hers, too, all the occasions in between--each minute together had strengthened her feeling for him. What had begun as admiration was now total, overwhelming love. She didn't know how she could live without him. You might have to live without him, a voice inside her head reminded her.
She would love him until she died, no question about it. He was her soulmate, and even if she lived a thousand more lives, Christian was the man she wanted to accompany her throughout eternity. Why hadn't this occurred to her before? And what was she going to do about it?
After the ceremony, the dancing began with the screech of the fiddle and the trilling of the flute. While several guests danced, others headed for the buffet table to help themselves to platters of sliced ham and turkey, potato and pumpkin pudding, corn bread, and cherry tarts. Gwen moved through the line with the other guests, her appetite gone, even though she'd eaten breakfast hours ago. Resolved to present an image of careless enjoyment, she laughed at something Daniel said behind her, while her mind wandered in a hundred different directions.
Tempted to look for Christian, she caught herself in time, reluctant to make herself obvious. Well, where was he--off by himself, fretting over Leah?
Finished with the buffet line, she stood between Rebecca and Daniel, listlessly nibbling on a slice of corn bread. Tired of the pretense, she excused herself and headed for the table to set her plate down. None of the others would notice if she left, and she didn't give a darn if they did. A girl needs some time to herself, she silently declared, pasting a smile on her face, nodding to neighbors. As she eased through the crowd, a flood of poignant memories surfaced, vibrant traces of people and places she'd never see again. She missed her family, her friends, her students more than she'd ever thought possible. But if she hadn't made this trip back in time, she'd never have met Christian.
Outside, she found a cozy area at the side of the house where a long wooden bench
sat in the midst of a sprawling oak and a weeping willow. Breezy and cool, the area provided shade and relief from the heat, a place where she could have a little solitude, although she realized it would be rude to stay out here too long. Fifteen minutes, then.
Raising her face to the early afternoon sky, she breathed in the sweet fragrance of strawberries, borne on a light breeze. She drew her hat off and dropped it on the bench, then removed all the pins from her hair and let the long locks cascade past her shoulders, the way she wanted to wear her hair all the time but didn't dare. Ah, eighteenth century convention. Now, if she had her jeans and a T-shirt...
She rested her head against the trunk of a spreading oak, her wayward thoughts drifting.
A rustle of branches startled her, bringing a frown to her face. Was it too much to expect she might have a few minutes to herself? She swung around and saw Christian approach, the shade of the trees accentuating his solemn expression. She clutched the folds of her dress, then quickly let go, fixing a calm expression on her face.
He stood beside her. "Why did you desert us?"
"I didn't think anyone would notice my absence."
"I noticed it."
She smiled and shrugged, not knowing what to say. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. One thing she resolved--she would not let Christian see the unsettling effect he had on her, how even the sound of his voice made her want to rush into his arms and cover his face with kisses.
"You haven't answered my question," Christian said. Sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling his face, making it difficult to see his expression.
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm your doctor," he said with a teasing grin. "I wondered if you were sick."
Yes, sick of thinking about you all the time, wondering if you still care for Leah.
The breeze picked up, a strand of hair blowing across her cheek, and she brushed the lock aside. "Not sick. Just like to be by myself sometimes. Besides, it was rather hot in there."
"True." He gave her a long, thoughtful look. "I still don't understand you. Why did you come to this part of the country? What is your purpose here?" Christian shook his head, a hint of a frown on his face. "You're a puzzlement, to be sure."
She rolled her eyes. "Why do you bring this up again, after all this time? I thought we'd worked this out before."
"You thought we'd worked it out, but you've never fully explained your reason for being here."
"It's all a Papist plot."
Christian nodded in mock solemnity. "Mayhap so."
One idea after another flitted through her head, each quickly discarded, until she settled on a compromise.
"I believe everyone has a purpose in life," she said.
"What is your purpose, then?"
"Umm." She thought about all the things she wanted to tell him--the coming Indian attacks, her trip back in time to save his life. Would he believe her? Not a chance. "How much time do you have to listen?"
He inclined his head. "As much time as you need."
Tree branches tossed in the wind, and clouds drifted in front of the sun, the air becoming cooler. She suppressed a shiver, not for anything wanting to distract him from their discussion.
She forced herself to speak in an even voice. "I believe my presence here is closely connected with the Indian rebellion, which I already told you about and which you don't accept."
"Correct on both counts."
After a pause, she w
ent on. "I think I may be able to save a few lives in this struggle with the Indians."
"Oh, really?" Christian folded his arms across his chest. "How will you do that?"
"By warning people, for one thing, as I've tried to warn you. I might even talk to Captain Ecuyer at Fort Pitt."
"You do that. I'm sure he'll appreciate your advice. But why stop there? Why not go all the way to Colonel Bouquet or even Sir Jeffrey Amherst?"
Gwen lifted her chin. "It's certainly worth a try to talk to Captain Ecuyer."
"Let's change the subject," Christian said. "I--"
"Good idea."
"--I wondered if Richard Shelbourne has called on you lately."
Her mind swirled with all the implications of his question. Did he care for her, or was his question prompted by idle curiosity? "You're very inquisitive today," she said, finding refuge in banter.
"He's not the man for you."
"You said the same about Noah Enfield, and in any case, it's no business of yours whom I see. Richard Shelbourne is a fine gentleman, an interesting person to be with." She tilted her head. "Why do you pry into my affairs?"
Christian ran his fingers through his hair. For as long as Gwen had known him, he'd always been a picture of absolute self-confidence, never at a loss for words. But now...
"Your happiness is my business, or maybe I should say I've made it my business," Christian said. "I've come to think much of you--"
"More than of Leah Conway?" Her hand flew to her mouth. She'd give a million dollars to take back those words, but there they were, hanging in the air between them.
"Leah." Christian sighed. "We grew up together. Our families knew each other well. At one time, I thought I cared for her. But now...now I hope she and Edward will find happiness together."
"Then you don't mind that she married Edward?"
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