Riding into a clearing, Alec brought Ivan to a stand-still and Caroline came back down to earth.
"Well," he inquired lightly, "how does this strike you as an inn? Ceilings of tree branches and carpets of leaves are the latest fashion, I'm told."
She smiled up at him. "These look like very comfortable accommodations, sir!"
Indeed it was a lovely spot. The trees joined overhead to form a perfect canopy and the blanket of leaves on the ground looked almost plush. Alec swung down from the horse's back and reached up to grasp Caroline around her waist. He lifted her off Ivan and suddenly they were face to face, his hands still resting on her hips. He looked down into her brown-and-gold eyes and saw in them something he could not read. Moving his palms up her back slowly, Alec could feel the hot blood rising in him, and then Ivan pushed his nose against them and whinnied gustily.
Nervously, Caroline laughed and turned to pet the horse's neck.
"Well, Ivan, I suppose you'd like to have the rest of those things off your back, too!"
It was not yet dark when the three of them set off through the trees to find a stream. They didn't have far to go, and while Ivan drank and Caroline washed, Alec went in search of food and firewood. He had good luck, and before long they were seated by a cozy fire feasting on dried beef and johnnycake from his saddlebags, nuts, berries, and sweet water. They drank from a small wooden cup which Alec produced, explaining that he had carved it in camp early in the war and still carried it with him in his pack. After they finished eating, Alec leaned back against a tree to smoke a thin brown cheroot. Caroline sat nearer the fire, and as they talked he watched her face, which was framed by molten-gold firelight. Her hair spilling over her shoulders, she looked poignantly young and vulnerable in her voluminous shirt.
"Will you tell me about the future?" she asked. "Where are we going? And what will you do with me after we get there?"
He smiled behind the thin curls of smoke which drifted up and dissolved into the darkness.
"Ah, yes, I imagine your head must be full of questions! We are going to Philadelphia, where I live. I’ve decided that after we arrive I shall install you at my parents' home. It wouldn't help you at all socially to be living at my house! As it is, if I were any sort of gentleman at all I'd marry you as soon as we encounter a parson."
Caroline's eyes were wide with astonishment.
"Marry me! Whatever for?"
"Why, to make an honest woman out of you, my dear. Moral codes these days don't have clauses allowing men and women to spend the night together unchaperoned—no matter how innocent the circumstances may be. And in our case, I have a feeling we'll be alone together several nights." He was smiling at her as if the prospect delighted him, and Caroline shifted uneasily. "However, no one needs to know what our circumstances have been before we arrived in Philadelphia. I will solve this problem by explaining that I am your guardian..." He grinned again, looking to Caroline like a scoundrel, "I am not a particularly honorable man, especially where women are concerned. Take that as my warning, cherie! Also, I have no intention of ruining both our lives by trapping us into a marriage neither of us wants—just for the sake of propriety. You are young and very beautiful, Caro, and I'm certain that there will be scores of young swains in Philadelphia who will be eager to win your affections. Besides, we must make sure that you are not already married!"
Caroline's eyes had been growing larger with each sentence Alec spoke, but with his last words her mouth dropped open.
"Married! Me? But—but—"
"It is entirely possible that you were running away from a husband."
Alec had no doubt that she was old enough, for he had become quite familiar with the attractive curves beneath her smock during their ride on Ivan that day. He knew a great deal about women, and there was no doubt in his mind that she was indeed a delightfully fully grown woman.
Caro—how she liked the way Alec pronounced her new nickname!—sat quietly for a few minutes, her profile pensive in the firelight. Finally, Alec broke the silence.
"You look like you're trying to remember something."
"I am." She paused. "You know, I feel as if I know all about myself, but for the moment it all eludes me. It's as though it's there, in my head, but I cannot reach it."
"Or perhaps you don't want to," he offered gently.
"What do you mean?"
"Only that whatever is in your past may be so painful to you that you've buried it—blocked it out—without even realizing it."
Their eyes met, and though she did not speak, Alec knew that she understood what he was saying. Her face was so lovely, and in it he could see bewilderment and fear.
The air was growing colder and Alec moved forward from the shadows to add more wood to the fire. Caro observed him with interest, uneasily aware of his nearness. He turned to look at her, reaching out to grasp one of her hands.
"Are you warm enough? Here, put this on." He wrapped his own heavy blue wool coat around her shoulders. It was a handsome garment with a rich satin lining, wide lapels, and brass buttons. Then Caro found herself leaning back against the tree next to him, his arm around her, her cheek against his chest. A sudden feeling of well-being flooded her, and she began to ask him more questions. At length, the conversation turned to his family, which Alec described with relish.
"My father was really a pirate—I was telling you the truth. He did a great deal of illegal trading with the colonies during the days when trade with England was so expensive and troublesome. Actually, it was all quite respectable then. Father tells wonderful stories about the rounds of entertainment from the merchants of New York when he would put into port with his cargo. He really led a wild, adventurous life, but I believe he met my mother just in time."
"Where did they meet?" asked Caro, completely fascinated.
"Quite classic circumstances, I assure you! My father captured her ship."
"Her ship!?"
"Yes, she was on board one of the few quite luxurious passenger vessels of that time, bound from Russia for the colonies to visit her brother and his wife. Father confiscated all the valuables from her ship, foremost among which was my mother!"
"Alec!" Caro exclaimed. He was chuckling in amusement.
"Yes, I'm afraid the worst happened—for after all, my father was no gentleman. Seems to be a family trait. At any rate, my mother appears to have enjoyed herself immensely, and soon my father had not only returned all the stolen goods, but also married my mother there at sea. She accompanied him on his pirate ship's last voyage to America and they settled down in Philadelphia to live happily ever after. I stand with my four brothers and sisters as proof of that."
Caro looked up to see white teeth flash against his black beard.
"Your father gave up his pirating?"
"Oh, yes—the only voyages he makes now are with my mother to visit their respective families in Russia and France and to inspect some family vineyards they own in the Loire Valley. After my parents married, Father began ship-building, and as the business grew he branched out into several other interests. These days, when I am home, I am his partner in the ships."
"When you are home?"
"I have been quite occupied these last years in the war for independence."
"Oh—of course!" Caro felt something click in her mind, but even though she squeezed her eyes closed, she could not catch it in time.
"Do you remember anything about the war?" Alec queried, looking down at her face.
"Yes, I seem to, though I hadn't thought of it until you said the words. Suddenly now, I can remember it all but rather indistinctly—the deaths, and women all alone, and living with hardships. But I simply cannot see faces in my mind, or recall names."
They were silent for a moment, then Caro, eyes wide with frustration, blurted:
"I don't even know where we are!"
"That is easily enough answered. We are in Connecticut, nearing its western border and the Hudson River. We will follow that to New York tow
n, and then journey on south to Philadelphia."
"But, if you are a man of means, why are you here in the woods with only a horse? Isn't the war over now?"
"Yes, it's over. And, Caro, you mustn't let Ivan hear you speak of him as though he were of no consequence!" He had lowered his voice conspiratorially. "You see, he believes he is absolutely the finest horse ever born—the superior of any man." He paused. "Except me, of course."
"Of course!" Caro giggled, and Ivan peered at them suspiciously from the other side of the fire. Alec squeezed her shoulder and continued:
"To answer your question, I was inspecting a farm I recently acquired in northern Connecticut. It was left to me by one of my comrades who died at Yorktown. I am used these days to traveling light. It’s been a pleasure to be responsible to only myself; to go at my own pace and to enjoy the woods in autumn before returning to city life. Besides, I have friends in this area that I enjoy visiting. We'll be staying with them in the Hudson River Valley, and I'm hoping to borrow a horse for you."
"We will go on horseback all the way to Philadelphia?"
"No, my coach will be meeting us in New York."
"I have only one more question. Who will you say I am?"
Alec smiled with satisfaction.
"Actually, it all fits together brilliantly. You are the poor orphaned daughter of my friend from the war. Much to my surprise, you came with the farm! You'll be my ward, and it will all be cozy and respectable."
Caro felt her eyelids drooping and she smiled to herself contentedly, snuggling against Alec's broad chest.
"Well," she murmured drowsily, "I suppose I shall have to trust you...."
***~~~***
Meet Cynthia Wright
“Romance the way it was meant to be,” raves Kathe Robin of Romantic Times Magazine about Cynthia Wright’s 13 “classic” historical romances.
A reader says: “Her warm, adventurous, loving stories match Kathleen Woodiwiss in sensuality, but have a wholesome sweetness and zest all their own.”
***~~~***
Cynthia Wright launched her career as a bestselling novelist in 1977 with the publication of CAROLINE, when she was twenty-three. She went on to write 12 more beloved and acclaimed historical romances set in Colonial America, Regency England & America, Medieval England & France, and the American West. Seven of these, the intertwined Raveneau Novels and Beauvisage Novels, have special places on the keeper shelves of readers around the world.
Cynthia’s novels have won many awards from Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur, but her favorites are messages from readers like this one: “Your books show love the way you want your own relationship to be: real AND romantic!” After taking a break from writing for several years, Cynthia is excited to be back as an “indie” author, bringing all 13 of her novels back as eBooks (newly edited, with gorgeous new covers!). She will also release a new Raveneau novel, TEMPEST, in 2012.
Today, Cynthia lives in northern California with her partner, Alvaro, in a 1930’s Spanish cottage. When they aren’t riding their tandem road bike or traveling in their 1959 vintage airstream, she loves spending time with her family, especially her two young grandsons. Cynthia is also a college student who says, “It’s never too late to re-write the story of your own life!”
Cynthia invites readers to join her at her website: http://cynthia-wright.com/
And on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/cynthiawrightauthor
Table of Contents
SILVER STORM - AUTHORS CUT EDITION
Excerpt from: SURENDER THE STARS
Excerpt from: SILVER SEA
Excerpt from: SPRING FIRES
Excerpt from: CAROLINE
Meet Cynthia Wright
Silver Storm (The Raveneau Novels #1) Page 34