"If you return to England, it will ruin both your lives. And the children will suffer irrevocable damage."
"Tell that to your son." Geoffrey pulled at the scarlet ribbon in Kate's hair. "Ouch! Let go." She untangled his fingers and laid him on his stomach. "Here, play with your feather." She looked up at Rebecca. "I think what I need is to get out. I feel so cooped up in the house; it's days since I've ridden Meshewa."
"I agree. Ride with Pride in the morning. I'll tend the babies."
Kate threw her a black look. "He doesn't want me with him. I'll not force myself on him."
"I'll give instruction that Meshewa be saddled at the same time as Pride's horse. They'll both be led to the front door; he's too much of a gentleman to make a scene in front of me or to embarrass you in front of the servants. You can fight when you're alone." Rebecca bounced Shawny on her knee. "They need a mother and a father. But most important, my son needs you."
"If he does, he picks a strange way of showing it."
Kate was mounted on Meshewa when Pride came down the front steps. She murmured to the pinto and stroked the silken neck, ignoring the angry glare directed toward her. "Good morning," she said sweetly. The blue Storm eyes were innocent. "I've been in the house so long, I thought perhaps I'd ride out with you this morning."
Pride swung up into the saddle and turned his stallion's head toward the north fields without a word. Kate urged the pinto to follow, trying not to giggle at the crimson neck and granite shoulders. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a curtain moving. She smiled and waved to Rebecca.
"Get up, Meshewa," she said, digging her heels into his taut sides. The gelding leaped ahead, bringing her up beside her husband. Pride refused to give her the satisfaction of recognition. "If you'd rather ride alone..." she started. The color flamed in her cheeks. "I can..."
"I would." The bronzed jawline twitched slightly; there was no tenderness in his glance. "But these are no times for you to ride alone. You're here, you can stay. Next time ask first."
"I'm sorry," she stammered. An argument was the last thing she wanted. "I thought if we could talk out some of our differences," Kate explained, "that maybe..."
"The time for talk is over. You've gotten what you wanted. I've heard about nothing but your freedom from the beginning. Now you have it. And a large settlement from my estates."
Tears welled up in Kate's eyes. "I never wanted your money, Pride. That's unfair and you know it!"
"I suppose I do." He slapped the reins and the gray broke into a canter.
Meshewa quickened his pace, and Kate guided him sharply to the right. The road split just ahead. To hell with Pride Ashton! She'd ride alone. There was no reasoning with him.
Pride glanced back over his shoulder and yelled.
"No!" She urged Meshewa into a run. His sure feet found the narrow path. The wind caught Kate's riding hat and blew it away. She leaned low over the pinto's neck and cried out, "Faster, faster, boy!" Pride's curse stung her ears. "You bastard!" she flung back. He had swung the stallion into a circle and was in hot pursuit.
The stallion was bigger, with longer legs, but he was weighed down by the burden of a large man. Meshewa had been too long confined; the woman on his back seemed a part of him. The slender legs moved with the precision of a dancer. The gallant heart of the little buffalo pony soared.
A tree had fallen across the path; Meshewa soared over it. Kate laughed with pure joy. She turned the pinto downhill; he scrambled and slid down the gully, then plunged up the far side. Beyond the trees was a cornfield. The stalks had been cut and stacked in shocks. Kate reined Meshewa to a trot, carefully guiding him between the even rows.
She didn't feel like the mother of two babies; she certainly didn't feel like Lady Kathryn Storm. She felt as she had the day she'd escaped from her tutor and ridden off on Father's best hunter. Kate heard the crash of brush behind her as Pride's gray broke into the field.
She slowed Meshewa to a walk and rode head high, trying to erase the amusement from her face.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Pride demanded. He charged up beside he r, his tanned face white with anger. "I told you to stay with me!"
"You told me you'd rather ride alone." Kate patted the white neck. "I wouldn't breed that one. He can't even keep pace with a lady's horse."
"Stop playing games, Kate!"
Anger surged through her and she turned on him. "I just wanted to be alone with you, to see if we could work things out. I can see how foolish it was." Her hand itched to slap his arrogant face. How dare he sit there judging her? They'd been wrong for each other from thé start. He'd said sex was all they had in common. He was probably right.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could forget. And forgive."
"Forgive me?" Kate seized the quirt hanging from her saddle and lashed it across his face and bare arm. "Damn you! Who asked to be forgiven!"
Pride's hand closed on the whip; he yanked it from her hand. Kate dug her heels into Meshewa's sides and twisted to avoid his grasp. The stallion leaped ahead and Pride pulled her from the saddle. He tried to drag her up before him, and they both went crashing into the dirt.
"Kate?" Pride shook her.
She took a deep breath, and the spinning horizon slowed and slid into place. She spat out a mouthful of dirt.
"Are you hurt? Is anything broken?" he demanded. He was kneeling beside her like some dust-covered scarecrow. A corn leaf fell from his hair.
"No thanks to you." She spat more sand and began to laugh. Lord Pride Ashton! He looked more like a swineherd. His face and clothes were smeared with dirt. H e took her arm and pulled her to her feet.
Kate trembled inwardly at the nearness of him. She fought the desire to kiss those muddy lips, to run her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. An ache grew inside. She took a step backward and averted her eyes as he brushed off her clothing.
The two horses stood a few yards away, watching them. Kate called to Meshewa, and he came forward eagerly. "I'll go home," she offered, mounting the pinto.
"There's no need." Pride pushed a lock of hair from his broad forehead. "You look like a blackamoor." A slow grin broke over his face. He caught the gray's reins and put a booted foot in the iron stirrup. "Stay with me, Kate. It's not safe for you to ride alone. Hell, it's not safe for me to ride out without an escort. The Delaware are up, the Fox, the Shawnee. Tschi's leading several war bands."
"He wouldn't attack Ashton Hall?" Kate paled.
"Tschi? How the hell would I know? How do you expect me to know what he'd do?" Pride's voice softened. "No, I don't think he would. But I didn't think he'd turn me over to the French, either." The dark eyes were hurting. "I should hunt him down for what he did, but I can't. He's my brother. If he comes against Ashton, I'll kill him. But if he stays clear, he can go without fear of me."
"Does Rebecca know?" Kate had never mentioned Tschi's betrayal to Pride's mother.
"She knows, but I didn't tell her. There are few secrets in an Indian camp for long."
"The two of you are so different; it's hard to believe that you're brothers."
"We're not so different. He's fighting for his home and his people the way he sees it. I'd fight to defend Ashton."
"Tschi and I were never lovers. I slept in his wigwam, but not in his bed."
"So you tell me. He told me different." Pride edged the gray ahead of Meshewa and unslung his rifle. "Be still. Our voices carry a long way on the wind."
"What kind of a hypocrite are you?" Kate demanded, keeping her tone low. "No matter how many times you're proved wrong, you keep accusing me! You almost let your own son be born a bastard because of your stubbornness. "
"Damn it, woman, can't you see! We're fighting again. All we ever do is fight. I'll not spend the rest of my life in constant battle!" Pride cradled the gun in his arm. "Now shut up, or I will take you back." He dug his heels into the stallion's sides and the animal leaped ahead. Sullenly, Kate fell in behind.
In the
north fields, the men were cutting the last of the corn. It seemed strange to Kate to see armed guards on horseback patrolling the work area. She caught the flash of a mirror on a nearby hilltop. Pride explained that it was a boy in a tree.
"He can see a lot farther from up there. There's a pattern of reflections. If it stops, we know there's trouble."
"But he's in danger. If he's only a boy..."
"Boys grow up fast out here, or they don't live to grow up."
"Wouldn't it be easier just to stop the work?" Kate asked. She'd dismounted to tighten Meshewa's cinch strap.
"For how long? This hit-and-run warfare could go on for years. I have to clear the land to plant crops. If you don't rotate corn with tobacco, the soil gets used up. I'd soon have nothing." He motioned her to silence while he conferred with the foreman. Pride returned in a few minutes and mounted his horse.
"Where to now?" Kate gathered the reins and put her foot in the stirrup.
"You wait here. I'm going to ride out and check on two men a few miles from here. They rode for water this morning and didn't get back yet."
"But I—" she protested.
"No buts."
A burly man took Meshewa's bridle. "You rest awhile, missy," he said. "Until the master gets back."
Kate waited for what seemed hours. The cutting of trees went on about her. Two riders had gone with Pride, men she didn't know. It was hard not to worry about Pride's safety, and harder still to admit he was right in leaving her behind. Unarmed, she would be nothing but a burden to him. Next time she rode out, she would carry a pistol at least.
She dozed and was awakened by the sound of hoofbeats. Three horses came tearing through the woods; Pride was in the lead. She got to her feet and ran to him.
"What happened?"
Ignoring her, he began to shout orders. "Jake, you take three men and escort Lady Kathryn back to Ashton. Alert the patrols! The rest of you come with me. And Jake, signal the boy in. Take him with you."
"What is it?" Kate demanded, untying Meshewa.
"They're both dead. I don't know who did it, but I'm sure as hell going to find out. They've got barely an hour's start on us. You get back to the house and watch after the kids. No nonsense, Kate," he said hoarsely. "I've no time for it."
She nodded, swinging up on Meshewa's back. "Be careful, Pride, please."
"If 'I can."
There was no word for two days. She and Rebecca slept in quick snatches. The shutters were closed and barred; the house was secured like a fortress. Kate carried a pistol wherever she went.
"White or Indian?" Rebecca had demanded.
"He didn't say. All he said was that the men were dead. Jake said they'd heard no gunshots. But I'm not sure the sound would carry." Kate slipped Shawny into a clean wrapper. It was insane to think of Pride in danger of being murdered on such a beautiful October day. Shawny had just cut a new tooth, and Geoffrey was learning to crawl. How could such madness exist at the same time? He belonged here with her and the children, not off in the wilderness. For the first time in months, Kate longed for the tranquility of England.
They carried him in just after dusk with a musket ball in his left shoulder. "You've got to dig it out," Jonas said, matter-of-factly. "I'd of done it myself, but I didn't want to start it ableedin'."
Despite his protests, they'd dosed him with rum, and Rebecca had removed the lead from his wound. Kate sat by him and held his hand, grateful when he fainted from the pain. Pride's lip was bitten through, but he'd made no outcry until he passed out.
"It didn't hit the bone," Rebecca said, washing her hands. "If infection doesn't set in, he'll heal well enough. I've seen him hurt worse."
"It were a long shot that caught him," Jonas explained. "Close up, a ball that size will blow a man to kingdom come! Pride's lucky, I reckon. Twere a band of renegades, some white, some mix-bloods. They killed them two fellas fer their guns and horses. All kinds of folks in the woods nowadays." Jonas winced as Rebecca poured rum into the wicked gash on his arm. "Seems a waste of good liquor, ma'am. Do me more good in my gut." He flushed. "I mean my belly. Nothin' but a scratch. Little son of a bi—" The red darkened to crimson. "I mean he were small," he stammered. "The dirty breed what cut me."
"How many were there?" Rebecca asked.
Pride regained consciousness; Kate wiped the sweat from his forehead and covered him with a clean sheet. "Eleven," he whispered. "One we left alive to spread the word."
Jonas guffawed. "Sort of. Pride—" He broke off at Pride's fierce glare. "What I mean is, well... guess I'll see to the men. See ya in the mornin', Pride." Hastily, he backed from the room.
"And I don't suppose we'll hear the rest of that story," Rebecca commented.
"No." Pride sank back on the pillow. "Are the kids all right? I suppose they're asleep."
"Yes," Rebecca answered. "And you should be, too. I'll mix up something to relax you. The longer you sleep, the quicker your body will heal. Kate can sit with you."
"That's not necessary," he protested. "I'll be all right."
"I'll stay," Kate agreed. For a few minutes, Pride had let his guard down, had seemed almost glad to have her touch. A sense of bitter disappointment flowed through her. Nothing had changed, nothing ever would. He let her touch him because he was hurt. Even a wild animal would do the same. Still, she would stay. Just to be near him, to know he was alive, was better than the worry and waiting.
Pride's wound healed slowly. Rebecca's potions kept the infection down. November passed and then it was Christmas. Since it was the first one for Geoffrey and Shawny, they made a special effort to make the celebration a joyous one.
They had made toys for the children. Rebecca had carefully cut and stitched a leather doll for Shawny. The hair was black, braided from a horsetail; the face was delicately worked in silk threads. The tiny dress of doeskin was fringed. It was a doll to delight any little girl.
Jonas carved a wooden horse for Geoffrey. It had a leather saddle that could be removed. Pride made each child a leather ball stuffed with straw. Not to be outdone, Kate had filled two cloth bags with colored stones, woolen animals, and carved blocks of wood. From England she'd ordered expensive toys and clothing fit for a prince and princess, but no gifts would ever have as much love as those Kate fashioned with her own hands, however crude they might be.
On Christmas Eve they lit cantiles and brought the servants into the great hall for singing and dancing. Kate and Rebecca had trimmed the room in greenery; a great yule log burned on the hearth. The house was filled with the smells of gingerbread and apple cider. For Kate, it was a charade of Christmas.
Pride had given her a velvet box containing a diamond necklace. She had given him a buckskin hunting jacket, sewn and embroidered by a Delaware Indian woman. For just a second, something familiar had flickered in the dark eyes, and Kate's heart leaped. Then it was gone, and she was left with the frost and a handful of cold stones.
When the house was quiet and all had gone to their beds, Kate checked the sleeping twins. Geoffrey was balled on his stomach as usual. Shawny was sprawled full-length, one chubby hand outthrust, the other thumb in her mouth. Kate held the candle over their cribs, marveling at the perfection of the two of them. If she had ever doubted God, it was impossible to do so now. She had only to admire the precious babies created, carried, and brought into the world during the chaos of the past year. If nothing else remained of the love she and Pride had shared, Geoffrey and Shawny would be evidence for the rest of their lives.
Restless, Kate returned to her own chambers and paced the floor. Outside, it was raining. The steady sound of the drops against the windows seemed to disturb her even more. She could stand the waiting no longer; she must do something or concede the war!
With trembling hands, she poured herself a glass of wine. The warmth of the sweet liquid spread through her body and drove back the cold despair. Pride lay only a few yards away. What had he told her? You know where to find me.
Could she swallow he
r self-respect and go begging? It was impossible. A second glass of wine followed the first.
What did it matter if the comfort would only last the night? Wouldn't a few stolen hours be better than a lifetime of regret?
Swiftly, Kate pulled the ivory pins from her hair and let it tumble about her shoulders. She ran a brush through it until it shone in the candlelight. From the armoire she took a gossamer dressing gown of the finest China silk, red as blood, with jade dragons embroidered down the full sleeves and around the skirt. She considered the diamond necklace, then tossed it on the bed. She would wear no jewelry.
The silk felt cool against her bare skin; it was so fine that it was almost transparent in the shadowy light. It clung to her rounded body, emphasized her full breasts. The vee neck plunged nearly to the tie at her waist; the slit sides parted when she walked. If Pride turned her from his door tonight, she would have no regrets. She would have tried.
Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floor as she made her way down the wide hallway past the door to the twins' room. A maid slept within; two guards patrolled the garden paths. The palms of her hands were moist as she reached for the tiny brass knob on Pride's door. It turned easily, and she pushed the door open.
The room was dark. No moonlight filtered through the windows. The wind and rain masked the sound of her movement. She paused and listened to the heavy breathing from the bed, then stealthily approached.
Kate would have screamed if his hand had not clamped over her mouth. One heartbeat ago he was motionless on the bed, and then he had leaped like a beast of prey to seize her, a knife in his hand.
"Kate?" The knife clattered to the floor, and the hand moved from her mouth. "What in hell are you about? I could have killed you!" Still he held her.
She opened her mouth to speak; nothing would come from her throat. He released her. There was the click of flint and then a candle flickered. He held it high, capturing her in the circle of light.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
He knew, damn him. Kate knew he knew. Why did he make her say it? Her lip quivered. "If you have to ask," she murmured, "then I've come on a fool's errand." Kate lowered her eyes. His bronze body was naked in the glow of the taper. She took a step backward. "I... I'll leave. I shouldn't have..."
By Love Alone Page 33