"England has not forgotten that we were once in their power, they still refer to us as the "Colonies." If they found us divided they would wage a war for control and you, Mrs. Daniels, would find yourself paying homage to the Queen of England instead of to your Jefferson Davis."
"You are trying to confuse me."
"No, I am trying to make you think."
"What difference would it make if we were ruled by England or your President Lincoln?"
"I do not think you mean that, Mrs. Daniels."
"What difference what color uniform one's enemies wear?" she said, standing up abruptly.
"I am not your enemy. I would like to be your friend, Mrs. Daniels."
Honor gathered her shawl tightly about her. "I do not want a Yankee for a friend. You have killed my countrymen."
Adam stood up and towered over her. "I am your countryman," he whispered.
"I will retire now, major, and I thank you for the dinner, but I do not thank you for the conversation."
He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Mrs. Daniels, did Darcy tell you that I had your smokehouse stocked with pork and beef?"
The amazed look on Honor's face told him she was hearing about the meat for the first time. "I will assume you put the meat there for your own needs, major," she said as she pushed his hand away from her shoulder.
"No, it is payment for the use of your home."
Anger flashed in her green eyes and she raised her head proudly. "I will never touch meat given to me by a Yankee, sir."
"How do you classify the ham you just dined on?"
"I . . . do not want your meat. I wish you would go away."
"I will go away one day, but the meat will remain for you to do with as you wish," he said softly, knowing what she was feeling.
Her eyes were misty with unshed tears, and Adam thought he had never seen anything so beautiful as misty green eyes. He had the strongest urge to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew that was the last thing in the world he could do.
"I did not intend to make you sad, Mrs. Daniels."
"No, I was just thinking of two young boys who once came to Landau seeking food."
"If you accept the meat you could feed many hungry young boys."
Honor gave him a sad smile. "I will wish you a good night, major."
He bowed to her, his blue eyes lingering on her lips. "I found your company delightful," he whispered.
Honor looked away, frightened by the feelings she was experiencing. Was she crazed? She found herself wondering how it would feel to be kissed by him. She closed her eyes, trying to think of something, anything to transfer her thoughts away from him.
"Good night, major." She gave him no time to reply as she hurried across the room and out the door.
Adam walked over to the window and pulled the draperies aside. "Damn!" he said as he gazed out into the night. "Damn." Hearing a noise behind him he whirled around to see that Honor had returned to the dining room and that she seemed nervous about something.
"You wanted to say something, Mrs. Daniels?"
"I . . . was wondering . . . if you would allow Darcy to have a small slice of your ham?"
Oh God, he thought. What was the world coming to when someone such as she would humble herself to ask for a slice of ham. Knowing how proud she was, he knew how hard it must be for her to ask it of him.
"Of course. How remiss of me not to think of it." He crossed to the table and picked up the platter with the uneaten meat and handed it to her.
Honor hesitated only a moment before she took the platter from him. Setting it down on the table she reached for the carving knife and sliced a thin slice and placed it in one of the white napkins. "Thank you, major," she said as she hurried from the room. Adam turned back to the window thoughtfully. He remembered the woman he had met in town yesterday. She had told him where she lived and offered him an invitation to visit her anytime. He shook his head. No, he had no wish to visit her. He rubbed his forehead, knowing he was not interested in any woman save one, and he could never have her.
* * *
Darcy swallowed the last bite of ham and then licked her fingers, while Honor undressed and lay down on her bed. Her thoughts were troubled as she closed her eyes. Adam O'Roarke was tugging at her heart, and it disturbed her. She could remember how his blue eyes flashed, and the transformation that would come over his handsome face when he smiled.
Go away, Adam O'Roarke, Honor told herself, I do not want to like you. You are the enemy. But it was a long time before she put him out of her mind, and even longer before she fell asleep.
7
A week passed, and Honor took her daily walks with Sergeant Simpson. October settled over the Shenandoah Valley. The apple trees in the orchard of Landau were ripe and ready for the picking. Honor could see apples rotting on the ground, neglected.
There was no market for the fruit, and even if there had been, Landau Plantation was cut off from the rest of the world. The only link with the outside was through the Yankee couriers who came to Honor's home almost every day. Her plantation had become a virtual stronghold for the enemy. Honor was aware that she was watched closely, and knew there would be no chance for her to pass on the information she had overheard.
Although the enemy soldiers were everywhere, they seemed to be neat and orderly. Sergeant Simpson had told her the major had given orders that the men were not to cause any damage to her property in any way, and that all offenders would be severely punished.
After the confrontation with the major, Honor tried to avoid him, and so far she had been successful. She had seen him only once, and that had been at a distance.
She found that she now tired easily as the day for her child's birth drew near. Sergeant Simpson had proved a pleasant companion. He was kind and considerate. As they walked along, she would often place her hand on his arm for support. The other Union soldiers kept their distance and never intruded on her privacy, although they would often smile and wave at her as she passed by.
Sergeant Simpson told her that the young boy and the doctor she had helped nurse the first night the Yankees had arrived had improved, and along with all the other wounded had been moved to a makeshift hospital that had been set up in an old saw mill.
One morning at the end of the week Honor slipped on her bonnet and tied the ribbon beneath her chin. Then she walked out the front door, where Sergeant Simpson always waited to escort her on their daily walks. But when she reached the veranda, she was greeted not by the sergeant, but by Major O'Roarke.
He smiled and bowed to her slightly. "Your escort awaits, my lady," he said with mockery dancing in his eyes.
"Where is Sergeant Simpson?" she asked, not liking the thought of spending any time in the major's company.
"I regret that he has business elsewhere. It seems you are stuck with me."
"I will await his return," she said, walking toward the door.
She felt his hand on her arm, and he turned her to face him.
"Mrs. Daniels, Sergeant Simpson sends his regrets. He will be unable to attend you, so, like it or not, I am your escort." The look in his eyes seemed to say he would brook no dissent, so Honor sighed wearily, giving in to the inevitable.
She walked beside the major and he slowed his pace to match hers, not wanting to tire her. It was a beautiful Indian summer day. The sky overhead was cloudless and a warm breeze stirred the air, bringing the fragrant aroma from the apple orchard.
Soon winter would come to the Shenandoah Valley, and Honor dreaded its coming this year. Once she had enjoyed the wintertime, for it forced her aunt to remain indoors, and she and Honor had spent many pleasant hours reading the classics together. There had been taffy pulls, or they would hitch the horses to the sled and go calling on the neighbors.
Meagan had always hated the winter months. She did not like to be confined to the house. When the winter storms would dump snow all around them they would be unable to leave the house for days at a time.
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Honor wondered where Meagan was now. She had for the most part blocked her sister out of her thoughts. The pain and humiliation of her wedding night were still too painful for her to think about.
"What were you thinking about? There was such a serious frown on your face," Adam said.
"I was thinking about my sister, Meagan, wondering where she is."
Adam stopped and looked down at her. "Tell me about your family and why you are all alone."
Honor looked at the distant mountains. "I have no family, major, with the exception of my sister, and she is most probably in Europe now."
"You have a husband."
"Yes, I have Jordan," she said, not realizing that the bitterness she felt had crept into her voice.
"I was wondering why you do not live with your husband's family. I would think in your condition you would want the comfort of another woman."
"This is my home and I do not wish to leave it."
"Tell me about your sister."
Honor smiled bitterly. "You would like my sister. She is very beautiful. Her hair is red and her eyes are blue, and all men seem to fall in love with her at first glance."
"Surely not all. I cannot believe that the men of your acquaintance would not prefer you," he teased.
Her eyes blazed as she looked at him. Was he mocking her? She was certainly not beautiful. "I once wished I could be like Meagan, until one day I realized I would never be other than what I am. I no longer want to be like her. I have come to realize that being beautiful is not so important."
"You do not know you are beautiful?" Adam said in astonishment.
"You do not need to pay me a compliment, major. I know that I am plain looking beside my sister, but it is of little consequence. I grew up one night. It was very painful, but I discovered that beauty can sometimes be only skin deep." Honor had spoken without thinking. She was horrified when she realized how much of her inner self she had revealed to this man who was the enemy. "Please forgive me, major. It is not my habit to talk so freely about myself. I suppose my thoughts needed to be put into words and you just happened to be the unfortunate one who was present at the time. Forgive me."
Adam looked at her, feeling at a loss how to answer her. She was so beautiful, so vulnerable. He found himself wanting to comfort her.
"I am honored that you feel you can talk to me. Tell me what happened between you and your sister."
"No, it is too private, and it no longer matters. Could we change the subject?"
Adam frowned. "In a moment. But first I want to examine something that you said. Why do you think you are plain, when I myself know you to be the most beautiful woman I have ever met."
Honor looked at him angrily. "Do not think you need to flatter me, major. I can assure you I do not need your pity nor your charity."
Adam took her face and raised it to him and studied every beautiful detail. When she tried to pull away, he held her firmly.
"I cannot credit that you are unaware of your beauty. My God, has someone hurt you so badly that you cannot see what is reflected in your own mirror?" His voice deepened as he looked into her eyes. "You are kind and care a great deal for others. Did I not see with my own eyes how you helped the wounded, never caring that they were your enemy? You have a grace and dignity that cannot be hidden even by the fact that you are with child. The man who is your husband is most fortunate. I am deeply saddened that someone has hurt you so badly. Were I your husband, I would count my blessings every day."
Honor was embarrassed and confused. He spoke with such conviction it was hard not to believe him. She felt herself being drawn to him and pushed his hand away from her face, afraid of her feelings.
"You must not say these things to me, major. It is not proper."
"Someone needs to tell you these things. It should have been your husband, but apparently he has not done so. What a fool he must be."
"This does not concern you, major," she said in self-defense.
"Somehow it does concern me. I think you should hear a man's point of view, Mrs. Daniels. Let us pretend for the moment that we are not speaking about you or me, but men and women in general." He paused; when she said nothing, he continued:
"A man, whatever path of life he comes from, be he the poorest of men or a king in some splendid palace, carries with him an image of what is the perfect woman for him. He may not even be aware of it, but he compares that image with every woman he meets. Some men never meet the woman who is perfect for them and settle for second best. I myself thought I would never find the one woman who would be perfect for me. One never knows when or where he might meet her. But when he does, he knows he could never be satisfied with anyone other than her."
"You are confusing me, major. I am not following your line of reasoning."
"Are you not, Mrs. Daniels?"
"No. Do you have a wife? Is she the perfect woman you speak of?"
He smiled. "I have no wife, Mrs. Daniels, but I have most certainly met the perfect woman for myself."
Honor frowned. "Have you told her? Has she promised to wait for you?"
"No, I have not told her, and in my case there may not be a happy ending."
"You do not think she returns your feelings?"
"I think it is too soon to tell. You see, she has too many problems at the moment for me to add one more for her."
Honor smiled. "I bet you most certainly could be a problem for a woman, major. But if I were you, I would tell her. Perhaps you will find she shares your feelings."
"Is that your advice for me?"
"Yes. Love is such a fragile thing. Sometimes you can think you love someone only to find out you were mistaken. If you love this woman, how can you know it is the real thing unless you make a commitment?"
Adam looked deeply into her eyes and reached out to touch her, but thought better of it and let his hand drop to his side.
"Perhaps one day I shall tell her, Mrs. Daniels, when I feel the time is right. I pray God she feels as I do, or heaven help me."
Somehow Honor felt a deep sadness in her heart. He was not so arrogant and frightening as she had thought, but a man of sensitivity, and capable of loving a woman deeply. She felt somehow troubled that he should love where it was not returned.
"Major, I hope your story has a happy ending. When you leave here, I would like to think of you finding your perfect love."
His eyes sparked dangerously for a moment, then softened.
"Do you wish for the day when you will see the last of the Yankee who rode into your life one night? When I leave, will I leave nothing of myself behind for you?"
"I do not understand."
"No, you do not understand." He took her arm and led her toward the apple orchard. It seemed he had shut her out and become silent and brooding. Wondering what had caused the change in his mood, Honor decided to change the subject and move on to safer ground.
"Do you know anything about farming, major?"
"As a matter of fact, I do, Mrs. Daniels. Would it surprise you if I told you I was raised on a farm outside Boston?"
"Yes, in a way. You are very polished and sophisticated. One would not connect you with being country bred."
"Is that meant to be a compliment?"
Honor smiled. "No. I do not think it is particularly flattering to be city bred. I love living in the country and would suffocate if I were forced to live in the city. Somehow I can sense the love of the land in you, though."
"Kindred spirits?"
"Something like that."
Honor stopped at the rail fence that enclosed the apple orchard. "The fruit is ripe and ready for picking. Will you allow the pickers to harvest the fruit, major?"
"I will allow the apples to be picked, but I am afraid I cannot allow you to ship them out, Mrs. Daniels. It is against the Union's interest for the South to make a profit in any way at the moment."
Once again he was an enemy soldier, thinking of his duty, and Honor, realizing that fact, nodded in agreement.
Once more he was impressed with her. She did not cry and beg him to let her ship out her crop of apples as so many women would have done. She had a perception that went way beyond her years.
"You need not feel badly, major. There are no buyers to ship the apples to this year. It does not matter. This war cannot last forever."
"I am impressed with the smooth operation of Landau Plantation with no man to look after it."
"My overseer is a very capable man, major."
"That may very well be, but there has to be a steering hand behind every operation, and I know in this case that you are that hand."
"Does it surprise you that a woman is capable of running a farm as well as a man, major?"
He laughed. "Not when the woman is you."
"Now that is a compliment I will accept graciously."
Adam climbed onto the rail fence and picked one of the apples. Wiping it on his sleeve, he offered it to Honor. Then he picked another and bit into it.
"It is sometimes hard for me to perceive that you are only sixteen. You act much older."
"Sixteen on the outside, major, eighty or ninety on the inside."
He laughed. "One would never suspect." Taking another bite of the apple, he then examined it closely. "This is a very delicious apple. The inside is soft and juicy, yet sweet; the peeling is not tough like our Boston apples."
"Perhaps you would like some seeds."
He raised his eyebrow. "It would take a long time for a seed to grow into a tree, Mrs. Daniels."
"Exactly. You would not like me to give aid to the enemy, would you?" She laughed at her own daring, and his deep laughter joined hers.
"Was Landau your name before you married, Mrs. Daniels?"
"Yes."
"I assumed as much since that is the name of your plantation."
"The plantation was left to me by my aunt. She was an extraordinary woman. She has been dead these last nine months."
"Nine months. You must have married your husband shortly after she died."
Honor's green eyes flashed. "Shall we return to the house, major?"
He threw away the apple core and jumped from the fence. "I am sorry. You must be tiring. Have I kept you too long?"
Rebel Temptress (Historical Romance) Page 10