Scarlet Leaves

by Sonya Birmingham

  He put his brandy aside and gathered her into his arms once more, the warm, sultry scent of her perfume flooding over him. "I'm sorry, I have no answers for your questions. Terrible, horrible things happen in war. People have pondered your questions for thousands of years and I don't think anyone has ever come up with an answer."

  "I'm beginning to think," she said in a shaky voice, "that no cause is worth what I've seen today. Today has opened up a whole new field of questions I don't even want to think about. Today I learned that real war has nothing to do with colorful uniforms or brave speeches."

  He traced circles on her back, caressing her, trying to comfort her with his presence. Tenderly he brushed back the tangled hair from her pale forehead and placed a kiss there, and one on her temple, and one on her cheek. Lord, how he'd missed her! he thought, her vivid beauty beating down on him like a spell. Before he knew what he was doing his lips found hers. When her moist mouth touched his, a warm glow ran through him, and all the old yearnings he'd ever felt for her came crashing back, a hundred times stronger than before. He hadn't meant to kiss her, but he had, and desire whipped through his bloodstream like fiery sparks, urging him to make love to her.

  His arms slowly tightened about her, and his head reeled with the soft magic her presence always worked upon him. This can't go on, he told himself, remembering his vow not to touch her, but even as he spoke, ever-building desire raced through him, and he felt his discipline slipping, being pulled away from him by her overpowering desirability. Then, gradually, from somewhere within him, he called on the last of his self-control and, ignoring the passion in her luminous green eyes, gently eased her away.

  Hurt and surprise touched her face and, looking like a crestfallen child, she clung to his arms. "Kiss me again," she whispered, her tone low and throaty as she brought her lips to his once more. "It's been so long. Please ... kiss me again and make me forget."

  Silky studied his glittering eyes, her heart pounding violently. A hot sexual tension shimmered between them that took her breath away, but she sensed he was holding back, reining in his emotions, and for the hundredth time she wondered if he still cared for her. Then, beneath her fingertips, she felt muscles ripple across his back, and his strong arms encircled her more tightly, delighting her.

  Now his mouth slanted across hers in a blazing kiss of passion and she moaned softly, totally surrendering to the moment. Banked fires began to smolder and burst into flame as she felt his searching hand at her breast. She relaxed against him, her mouth mingling with his, her tongue searching to conquer his. When he finally broke the savage kiss, she tilted her head back, looking into his stormy eyes. "Make love to me," she begged, craving the warmth and reassurance of his body against hers. "I want you so much ... and you want me, too. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes."

  Taggart needed no further invitation. Rising, he held out his hand, and together they moved to the bed. Silky took down her hair and, tossing her head back, let the tumbling locks fall about her shoulders. Taggart kissed her ears, her mouth, murmuring gentle words of love as his hands swept over her, thrilling and arousing her. When his lips crushed down on hers, she felt him tremble at the eager warmth of her response, and her tongue met his with a passionate fever of desire.

  He unbuttoned the back of her dress, then, with a frustrated groan, held her away to tug it from her shoulders and over her hips. Within moments her gown and hoops and petticoat lay on the carpet. When he'd removed her corset and her breasts burst free, he drew in his breath at the sight, and his lips nuzzled over those pink-tipped mounds, teasing and nibbling them.

  "Yes," she moaned, ruffling her hands in his glossy hair. "Yes, yes."

  Now his warm hand slid into her pantalets to caress her buttocks and push down the light cotton garment that covered them. He sat her on the side of the bed and knelt to remove her shoes, garters, and stockings and, after he'd done so, she lay down, watching him undress. Her heart beat wildly as he slipped off his tall, polished boots, stripped away his white shirt and his military trousers. He was tall and powerful, with wide, muscled shoulders, lean hips, and corded thighs.

  He leaned over her and mesmerized her with his skillful touch. Tenderly his lips played over her throat, her breasts, her stomach, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. With a will of their own, her arms encircled him and her fingers skimmed over his hard-muscled back, noticing a shudder rippling through him.

  "Silky, my sweet Silky," he murmured, and, as he held

  her in his arms, she sensed he was keeping his passion in check to prolong her pleasure. A profound tenderness shining in his eyes, he lowered his dark head and kissed her as he'd never kissed her before. His lips were eager and, as he explored her mouth, love's shining flame leaped within her, consuming her doubts and the haunting memories that plagued her mind.

  He suckled her breasts until they ached with pleasure, at the same time caressing her stomach, thighs, and the silky triangle between them. She gasped as he stroked her fount of desire, relentlessly flicking over it until she throbbed with excitement. Tantalizingly, lingeringly, he brought her yearning to flower, and when she was moaning softly, aflame with desire, his lips met hers in a scorching kiss that sent fire skittering through her veins. Still pleasuring her inner flesh, his touch became gentle, then teasing in turn, taking her to heights of ecstasy she'd only imagined.

  All her senses aglow, she felt his hard maleness brush against her, heard his ragged breathing, and was keenly aware of his warm, musky scent. Soft as the touch of his hand in her hair, his husky voice washed over her, murmuring words of endearment. He looked deeply into her eyes for a moment and, weak with love, she traced the outline of his cheek and ran her thumb over his firm, sensual lips.

  Taggart gazed down at Silky's gorgeous face, her lustrous hair fanned out about her in a tangle of soft cuds. Gently he brushed back a tress from her cheek, noticing the texture of her smooth, creamy skin, her tender pink lips. Lord, he hadn't meant to make love to her again and complicate the situation further, but it had been so long since he'd touched her, and his body, his very bones, ached with desire for her.

  A pulse throbbed at the side of her neck, tempting him to kiss it as well as her sweetly turned ear, her smooth eyelids, and her glorious hair. How he wanted to plunge into her, to lose himself in her warm, velvety softness, and forget everything but this hour, this very moment. With a twinge of guilt, he realized he'd broken a vow to himself, totally failing in his plan to distance himself from her. Undoubtedly there would be repercussions to deal with and yet more problems to solve with the coming of the new day, but he put all that aside, concentrating only on Silky, determining to pleasure her as she'd never been pleasured before.

  Silky surveyed Taggart's dark features in the dim light, and his gaze was almost tangible as it swept over her, caressing her, demanding her surrender. In response, she tenderly cradled his head and lowered it to her breast, her body arching to meet his lips. How she loved him, wanted him! She entwined her fingers in his hair, then with a thrill of excitement, realized his mouth was working its way lower, stirring dark, wanton feelings deep in her soul.

  She drew in her breath as he nudged her legs apart and began kissing the inside of her parted legs, eliciting wild, blood-pounding sensations within her. Now he reached up with both hands to tease and tantalize her pebbly nipples, while his mouth inched closer and closer to the moist triangle between her trembling legs. His warm breath played over her femininity and, near mad to feel him within her, she feathered her fingers through his thick hair.

  His mouth at last found her swollen bud of desire and she clutched his shoulders, moaning his name. Blushing hotly, she was overcome by modesty for a moment; then, losing herself in throbbing ecstasy, she released her inhibitions, dissolving in exquisite pleasure. Again and again his fluttering tongue teased her with loving persistence until she shuddered with a convulsive passion. Unable to help herself, she cried out in joy as intense pleasure swept through he
r, leaving her on the verge of swooning.

  When every inch of her skin was pulsing with erotic sensation, he positioned himself over her, resting on his arms, his thickly haired chest brushing against her sensitive breasts. He lowered himself so that his manhood rubbed against her, and she quivered as she felt the moist tip of his shaft fitting itself into her welcoming folds of flesh. His long dark hair fell about his face, making him look like a highwayman of old as his lips traced a light pattern across her shoulders and between the cleft of her breasts.

  "I never knew lovemaking could be so wonderful," she whispered, experiencing a soaring release as his lips suckled her breast once more. She moved her hips a bit to better accommodate him and, as his manhood plunged into her, she arched toward him. Each masterful stroke fired her excitement and she moaned and drew him closer yet. Pulsing need unfurled within her, growing and stoking a passion that threatened to blaze out of control. Now her hips twisted beneath him as she struggled to meet his faster pace. Hot pleasure rushed through her and she felt warm and glowing, as if she might burst at any moment.

  In an ancient rhythm they climbed to magical heights, their very beings blended into one by the hypnotic cadence of their lovemaking. A wild, indescribable feeling claimed the core of Silky's being, and wave after wave of ecstasy crested over her. At last their love was expressed in the most elemental way known to man and woman, and she cried out in joy as they exploded in a starburst of sensual delight.

  Afterward Taggart's body surged toward hers, and, lost in the glorious moment, they clung to each other until their racing hearts slowed. Sweet emotions overtook her as he moved to her side, holding her against him. Tenderly, he rained kisses over her face and hair, and love's drugging afterglow trickled through her, leaving a sense of deep security behind. Sighing with contentment, she relaxed, savoring the bliss of a union that still sent delicious sensations rippling through every muscle in her body.

  On the verge of sleep, she felt Taggart's strong, protective arm about her and realized everything was wonderful again. Her body still tingling from his touch, she thought of the way he'd pleasured her tonight, taking her to the very pinnacle of joy. Although he'd never told her so, he must love her, he had to love her, she thought, her worries and doubts about Caroline Willmott melting away. Undoubtedly he would soon confess his love and make a commitment to her. Despite the war, despite their uncertain future, despite fate itself, everything would work out all right, she congratulated herself.

  Yes, she thought with a tremulous sigh, everything would be just fine.

  After lunch the next day Taggart noticed that Silky's eyes widened in surprise as he gave her a handful of Confederate bills to go shopping.

  "All of this?" she asked, astonished. "I'm just going to buy a bonnet."

  He laid a few more bills in her hand. "Nobuy two bonnets, and a gown, and some new shoes as well. Buy anything else that strikes your fancy." He'd awakened thinking of Fort Stedman and, knowing he needed to express his concerns to City Point about the possibility of a Confederate attack, he'd hit upon the plan of sending her on a shopping expedition.

  She gazed at the large bills, her brows arching questioningly. "Don't you have anything smaller?"

  "No," he replied, trying to brush off the question with his best smile. "The bills will be fine. I'm sure the shops will be able to change them."

  He surveyed her as she tied her bonnet sashes. How good it was to see her smile once more, he thought, his heart warming at the sight. Being with her last night had made him realize all over again how much she affected him, both physically and mentally. He regretted he'd let his discipline slide, but he'd been separated from her so long his desire had simply overpowered him. Their lovemaking had been passionate and magical, touched with a primal fire, but when he thought of their troubled, uncertain future a secret sadness passed through him.

  Her eyes bright as sunbeams, Silky tugged on her black net gloves. "Now don't forget that Delcie is coming back to clean this afternoon," she reminded him cheerfully, picking up her reticule.

  He took her elbow and escorted her to the door. "No, I won't," he answered, thinking she looked very desirable standing there caressed by golden light.

  He drew her to him, holding her comfortably close. Cupping her breast, he pressed his lips on her forehead before capturing her mouth in a slow kiss. He could feel her heart pounding as his hand slid over her shoulder and along her hip in a familiar caress. When he drew back, a contented smile hovered on her lips, and her face was as soft and luminous as when they'd first made love in the mountains.

  "Have a good time," he murmured, opening the door for her. He met her large, trusting eyes, experiencing a pang of compunction. Even now he sensed that their time together was almost over. Exactly what lay ahead for them he could only guess, but he knew it would not be good, and for a moment he felt like a man about to tumble into an abyss. He kissed her lightly once more, then watched her trim form move to the landing and disappear down the stairs.

  He closed the door and returned to his desk. His mind churning, he retrieved a tiny key he always kept in his pocket and unlocked the bottom drawer. From its cluttered interior, he removed the cipher chart Caroline had given him and, placing it close by, started composing a paragraph about Fort Stedman.

  A few minutes into his work he recalled the Reb officers would be congregating for another marathon poker game this afternoon at the American Hotel, and he had second thoughts. Why not wait until he'd seen the officers again to write a message? The men were beginning to trust him, and if he pressured them a bit, perhaps he could obtain more facts about the attack.

  He tossed the half-composed message into an ashtray, struck a match, and touched it to the paper. The slip had just turned into cinders when he heard someone entering Silky's room and suddenly remembered he'd forgotten to lock the door. He realized it was Delcie and knew she would walk in on him at any minute. Quickly he pulled a cheroot from his vest and lit it to cover the scent of the burning paper.

  "Lieutenant Taggart? Are you in there?" Delcie called from the connecting room. "I's gonna start cleanin'." Taggatt heard her footsteps, and shoved the cipher chart under the large green blotter on his desk, not giving the action a second thought.

  He'd just put the blotter in place when she appeared, carrying a basket of oils, rags, and dusting cloths. "There you is." She laughed, sweeping her open, friendly gaze over him. "I's beginnin' to think nobody was here." She eyed his littered desk and wagged her head. ''You's the working-est man I ever saw," she exclaimed. She shook her finger at him. "You needs to get some fresh air. It be real pretty weather out there."

  Taggart realized that she was going to stand there watching him until he left. "Out is just where I'm going, Delcie," he replied, standing and shrugging on his jacket. He picked up his hat and walked to the door.

  Throwing her a smile of farewell, he left the room and jogged down the hotel steps. Outside in the soft spring air there was the creak of wagons as they rolled past, loaded with shot and shell to be conveyed to the rail depot and then on to Petersburg.

  A hackney slowly rattled to the entrance of the hotel. Taggart hailed the driver and got in, his mind on the Confederate officers. From their excitement he knew an attack was planned, but he needed more details. He only hoped that tonight might be the evening some young lieutenant with too much alcohol in his bloodstream would give them to him.

  He took a deep draw from the cheroot, only now remembering the cipher chart he'd automatically stowed under the blotter. For the time being it would be all right, he assured himself, relaxing against the seat. Tonight after Silky was asleep he would return it to the bottom drawer and lock it away. Lightly brushing the matter aside, he considered the evening ahead, believing things were about to come to a head.

  Yes, somehow, deep in his gut, he sensed after this evening things would never be the same again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Late that afternoon Silky entered her room, a po
rter by her side. After the man had deposited her boxes on a chair, she walked with him to the door and placed a coin in his hand. As soon as he'd left, she leaned against the closed panel, exhausted and still somewhat embarrassed. How surprised she'd been when, toward the end of her shopping trip, she'd gone into a bank to get some change to buy ribbons.

  The bank teller had looked at the fifty-dollar note she'd given him, then, to her utter surprise, informed her it was counterfeit. Placing the bill by a real Confederate bill, he showed her a tiny line in the bogus note, scarcely discernible to the eye. The bill was an excellent forgery, the best he'd ever seen, but it was counterfeit nevertheless, and unfortunately the bank couldn't change it, in fact they would have to confiscate it. Wanting to escape the bank employees' curious eyes, she'd blushed and left the building, reminding herself she must tell Taggart someone had passed along some bad money.

  Trying to forget the embarrassing incident, Silky took off her bonnet and tossed it aside. Then, hearing Delcie moving around in the next room, she walked to the open connecting door.

  She was surprised to see the girl standing before Taggart's desk, looking at a folded piece of paper. Delcie glanced up with a start. "Oh, missy," she muttered, a hand flying to her throat. "I heard you come in, and I was just fixin' to bring this to you. I've never seen anythin' like it before."

  Silky took the page and scanned it, seeing rows of seemingly meaningless words and numbers. At first she had no idea what it might be; then it dawned on her that she'd seen something like this before, and her insides went weak. A knot forming in her stomach, she recalled the paper looked like the information Taggart had been burning when she walked in on him from gathering eggs back in the mountains. "Where did you find this?" she asked, her voice none too steady.

  "I was just polishin' Lieutenant Taggart's desk when I spied dust around the edge of the blotter," Delcie said in a troubled voice. "I was gonna give it a lick and a promise; then I reckoned I'd lift up the blotter and do it right." Her dark eyes widened with curiosity. ''That thing sure looks strange. What's all that hen scratchin'?"