The Duke's Defiant Bride (Brides of Mayfair Book 4)

by Michelle McMaster

  Juliet made to reply, but found herself at a loss for words. There was something about the beautiful Spanish woman that unnerved her. Esperanza’s words cut straight to the heart of things and exposed them. Juliet wasn’t sure she wanted to look at what was beneath the rhetoric of war.

  She stood aside and swept her arm toward the door. “Come in. I have just made bread. You and your men—and your woman—you will eat and drink and then rest for awhile. Beatriz and I will wash your clothes, you will have hot baths, and then it will be time to eat and drink again!”

  “Can we really stay awhile, Captain?” Private Tanner asked, amazed at their good fortune.

  “As long as we aren’t a burden to our generous hosts,” Carver said.

  Esperanza waved a hand. “It is the least we can do, for both sides. The English and the French, they are tired of fighting each other, I think. It would be better for them to eat and drink together instead, tell stories and make each other laugh.” She gave Juliet a subtle but pointed look. “Here, in this house, you will do all of those things. Maybe you will all become good friends, and your war with each other will end, no?”

  Again, Juliet was silenced by Esperanza’s bold comments. What exactly was she saying? And why did it frighten Juliet so?

  Carver held his arm out to Juliet, waiting for her to go in ahead of him.

  Juliet smelled freshly baked bread, too. It smelled fragrant and warm and nourishing, like her mother’s bread. A strange feeling began to spread through her chest, a painful tightness which was both distracting and uncomfortable.

  She did not want to be here.

  She did not want to be welcomed into the house of her enemy, of a woman who had put her dislike of the French aside as easily as if it were a soiled dress.

  “She is very beautiful, and very angry, no?” Esperanza whispered to Carver.

  Juliet whirled around and stared at them. To her surprise, Esperanza laughed.

  “Oh, and she has ears like a hawk, too,” she chuckled, and put her arm around Juliet’s shoulders. “Come, you will eat, and then bathe, and then you and I will get to know each other. We will have lots of girl-talk over a glass or two of Papa’s wine.”

  Esperanza bustled into the kitchen and went to the rough-hewn wooden table in the center of the room. She lifted a cloth from a steaming loaf of dark brown bread, and began to cut it into thick slices.

  “Will you sit, Miss Reed?” Carver asked, pulling out a chair for her. “I assure you, Esperanza’s bread will live forever in your memory, if only for a moment on your tongue.”

  Juliet sat down at the table, looking at the men with their smiling faces, at the dog sitting and wagging his tail, at the sister, Beatriz, as she made a pot of tea. They looked for all the world like a large, happy family sitting down to take supper.

  She didn’t belong here.

  She should be out in the field, doing what she knew how to do best—spy on the British with Etienne. She wondered if her wounded comrade had been traded back to the French yet. She hoped so. More than that, she hoped Etienne hadn’t done anything foolish while in captivity and gotten himself killed.

  She would have to forget about Etienne, for the present. She couldn’t help him now, nor could he help her. Perhaps they would meet again someday, but it was more likely that they wouldn’t.

  Beatriz began serving the steaming cups of tea to the men, who matched her shy smiles with their own. Lastly, she handed one to Juliet, smiling more easily at her. The girl was attractive in her own right, but unlike her sister, Beatriz’s beauty was in the softness and delicate features of her face. Where Esperanza’s voluptuous body seemed to radiate sensuality and confidence, Beatriz was more petite, her clothing more demure. Juliet guessed her age would be about seventeen.

  Esperanza set a crock of fresh, creamery butter next to the bread board. Just the sight of it made Juliet’s mouth water. How long had it been since she’d had butter on her bread?

  Beatriz placed a plate full of yellow cheese next to the bread, along with a large bowl full of rose-red apples. The soldiers looked at the food in excited anticipation. For any soldier used to the rations in a British Army camp, this would look like a feast.

  “Now, lads,” Carver said, “be sure to remember your table manners. There are ladies present.”

  Esperanza laughed. “You must not remember how my father eats, Carver. And Juliet has seen soldiers eat before, no? We women are used to such things. Go on, now. Eat.”

  “Ladies first, Miss Reed,” Lieutenant Pitt gestured toward the food. “You should be the first to try some of Miss Chavez’s wonderful bread.”

  “You still think me a lady, Lieutenant, after all you know of me?” Juliet asked, chuckling. “I assure you, I feel the furthest thing from it.”

  “We’ll soon fix that,” Esperanza said with a knowing expression. “Now, eat!”

  The meal looked so very appetizing, and smelled even more so. Juliet reached out for a slice of bread, then asked Carver, “Am I permitted to use a knife to butter the bread?”

  “If you don’t try to kill anyone with it,” he answered, dryly.

  The group laughed, while Esperanza said, “It is a butter knife—not sharp at all. It would, at best, only cause a bruise.”

  For some strange reason, Juliet found herself laughing, too. Perhaps she’d gone too long without food and she was light-headed, for this was so unlike her. At least it had been during these past years she’d spent as a soldier. And yet, it felt good to laugh, to let down her guard and share a hearty meal with people who, up until recently, were considered her enemies.

  Juliet reached for a slice of bread, and buttered it. She raised it to her mouth and took the first delicious bite.

  Captain Adams was right. This was the best bread she had ever tasted.

  After Juliet took a second bite, the men helped themselves to the food. They laughed and elbowed each other as they ate, looking like a band of mischievous little boys just come in from playing.

  Carver reached over and slapped Tanner’s hand away from grabbing a second apple, and placed it in front of Juliet wordlessly.

  Juliet picked it up and held it under her nose. She breathed in the fresh, sweet scent of it slowly, savoring its promise. Suddenly forgetting those around her, she ate the apple noisily, enjoying the crisp flavor, the wet thirst-quenching juice, and the crunchy sound of each bite.

  She was down to the core when she looked up to see Carver staring at her with a handsome grin. He held his own half-eaten apple to his mouth and bit off a large bite, his lips wet with juice as he chewed.

  Juliet noticed Private Tanner sneaking small pieces of cheese to Paco under the table, and it made her smile.

  Esperanza noticed it too and said, “Paco, you better not be begging for food at the table.”

  Tanner’s head snapped forward as he tried to act nonchalant. But when Paco barked loudly, demanding more treats, everyone at the table broke into laughter. Even Esperanza.

  She rose from the table and took away the long bread board, which now held only crumbs.

  “Now, the men—and the woman,” she smiled at Juliet, “will bathe. But not together.” She laughed at her own joke, and the soldiers joined her.

  “Miss Reed may bathe first, if she likes,” Carver said. “The men will stay in here while she’s outside. But someone will have to guard her while she bathes.”

  A patch of sunlight streamed through the window and fell across his face, lighting his green eyes as they gazed at Juliet.

  “I will guard her,” Esperanza said.

  “Someone with a pistol, Esperanza,” Carver explained.

  “You think she will run away, naked as the day she was born?” Esperanza asked. “Then you don’t know much about women.”

  Carver quirked a brow. “You may be right on both counts, yet protocol demands it. I will stand guard nearby.”

  It would be wonderful to bathe, Juliet thought, no matter if Adams guarded her. At the garrison, it ha
d been one of the only luxuries she’d allowed herself. She’d bathed whenever possible, even though most common soldiers didn’t. It was more of an officers’ practice. But Etienne had always made sure she’d had warm water and soap at the end of the day.

  Juliet stood up, looking Carver in the eye. “If I see you sneaking around out there, Captain Adams, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

  “Carver will keep himself under control,” Esperanza said, laughing. “You think he hasn’t seen a naked woman before?”

  The men broke into nervous chuckles at Esperanza’s daring words.

  “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Juliet replied, flatly. Yet it was curiously crossing her mind now, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  “Of course it hasn’t,” Esperanza said, sarcastically. “Why would it?” She grabbed a cake of soap and a linen towel, leading Juliet toward the door.

  Juliet looked back to see a smirk curving across Carver’s mouth as he got up to follow them.

  Hah! If he thought Esperanza’s remark had bothered her, he would be gravely disappointed. She cared not one whit how many naked women Carver Adams had seen in his lifetime. Such a thing had nothing to do with her, nor would it ever.

  Esperanza led Juliet out the door and into the hot Spanish sun. “It’s there, behind the barn.”

  As they neared the edge of the big stone barn, the washing area came into view. Three canvas curtains hung from lines attached to the wall of the barn, and were held up by poles driven into the ground. The curtains were fastened at the sides with ties, a few of which were also tied to the poles to anchor the canvas against the wind.

  Beside the stall was a large tin tub which was covered in cheese-cloth.

  Pointing at the basin, Esperanza said, “We let the sun heat the water for us.” She removed the cloth and neatly folded it. “The cloth keeps out any insects.”

  Juliet thought about all the times she’d heated up her water over the fire in the garrison yard. Why hadn’t the French thought of such a method?

  Esperanza held the curtain open and plopped the soap into Juliet’s hand. “Leave your uniform outside the curtain. Beatriz and I will launder it for you. I will go and find something of mine for you to wear. Then I will be out here, talking with Carver.”

  Her hostess exited the bathing area and Juliet closed the canvas curtain. She began unbuttoning her shirt, and shrugged her arms out of the sleeves. Next came her boots and the dusty cavalry breeches, which she tossed outside in a pile. It was grassy behind the barn, and the soft, delicate blades felt like feathers under her toes.

  Juliet found herself enjoying the warmth of the sun and the soft breeze touching her naked body. A wooden bucket sat beside the tub, and this she used to dip into the warm water. This was the water she would bathe with. As there were many others who needed baths today, they had to conserve what water was available.

  She picked up the cake of soap and held it to her nose. It smelled of honey and wildflowers. She wondered if the flowers she’d seen growing in the Chavez’s garden had been used to make it.

  She dipped the soap into the warm water and lathered it between her hands. Rubbing the creamy bubbles over her skin, Juliet reveled in the exquisite luxury of the bath. She wanted to laugh at the amount of grime that was disappearing from her skin.

  Juliet rinsed the lather from her arms and legs, and watched the suds sink into the grass at her feet. She untied the long braid and shook her hair loose, then wet it and lathered some soap. It would feel so good to have freshly washed hair.

  Soon Juliet was all clean and rinsed, and wrapped in the linen towel Esperanza had provided. Juliet suddenly realized that for these precious few moments alone, she’d forgotten about everything—the war, the man guarding her, and her uncertain future. Sometimes it was nice to forget.

  “It is only me,” Esperanza said, poking her head inside the curtain. She carried some clothes in her arms, and laid them across a small wooden bench. “You must let your hair dry in the sun. It will make it shine.”

  As Juliet stood wrapped in the towel, Esperanza took a wooden comb from her pocket and began to comb Juliet’s wet hair.

  “I brought you a dress to wear,” Esperanza said.

  “I haven’t worn a dress in a very long time,” Juliet replied. “I’m not sure I’ll remember how.”

  “Remember how?” Esperanza laughed. “It is a sad thing indeed, if the war has taken that pleasure from you.”

  The war had taken many pleasures from her, Juliet thought. Far too many to count.

  “It’s not practical.”

  “And wearing a dusty French uniform is?” Esperanza yanked on a tangle and cursed in Spanish. “It will be a good change for you. You are a very beautiful woman. You should celebrate that, not hide it.”

  Juliet felt a prickle of irritation. “I have no choice.”

  “Don’t you?” Esperanza removed the last knot from Juliet’s hair, gliding the comb through its wet length. “We all have choices in life. That’s what my father says. We can choose to plant the fields, or we can choose to starve. We can choose to milk the cow, or we can choose to go thirsty. You see how simple life can be if you let it?”

  “Life is more complicated than that,” Juliet countered.

  “Perhaps you make life more complicated than it has to be.”

  “I didn’t start this war,” Juliet shot back.

  “No, but no one says you have to fight in it, either,” Esperanza replied.

  “You don’t understand,” she continued. “My mother was murdered by English soldiers. I swore to fight against them in her name.”

  Esperanza paused with the comb in her hand. “I am very sorry to hear that. But let me ask you this. Has it brought your mother back? No, it hasn’t. Your mother, God bless her soul, was killed by English soldiers, and for that I am sorry. But now, you have become the very thing that took her life. You are now the killer. You are the soldier striking against the enemy. And for what purpose?”

  Juliet’s temper flared. “I am taking revenge on the soldiers who took my mother’s life. Can’t you understand that?”

  “I understand more than you think,” Esperanza replied. “I only wish that you, too, understood. For though you tell yourself these things, they are not true. The men who killed your mother—did you exact your revenge upon the ones who actually murdered her?”

  Juliet shifted uncomfortably. “No.”

  “No,” Esperanza repeated. “Did you ever see them again? Would you recognize them, if you did? Or do you only remember their red coats?”

  Juliet made no reply.

  “Those soldiers are long gone. You have not taken vengeance on the ones responsible for your mother’s death. You have merely allowed yourself to be used as an instrument of war, killing other men—men who are husbands, brothers, and sons—simply because they are English. You have become exactly what you hate. And that is the real tragedy.”

  Juliet gulped as painful emotions swirled in her breast. She’d spent so long blindly fighting in this war, feeding her hatred of those she deemed responsible for her mother’s death. Esperanza’s words cut through Juliet’s defences like the sharpest of knives. She’d been surrounded by soldiers for so long, with no female companionship, no one to talk to or confide in.

  What if Esperanza was right?

  Suddenly, Juliet had a vision of her mother’s face, smiling at her in happier times. What would Mama say if she could see her daughter now?

  The truth was, Juliet had never had time to stop and consider such things. She hadn’t allowed herself to do that, for fear of discovering the unwelcome truth. It had been much easier to throw herself into her work as a French spy, dealing with her anger and grief by fighting against the British army, exacting her revenge upon nameless individuals in red coats.

  Suddenly, Juliet felt incredibly tired and drained of her usual strength. What in God’s name was happening to her? If only she could go back in time, before she and Etienne were
captured. She’d still be Lady Blade, the infamous and deadly spy.

  Now, she wasn’t sure who she was.

  It was all Captain Adams’ fault, his and their remarkably intuitive hostess.

  Esperanza ducked outside of the stall for a moment, retrieving the clothes for Juliet.

  “We are about the same size, so these should fit you,” Esperanza said, laying out some linen under-things and a beautiful silver-blue dress with a delicate black lace overlay. There were even stockings and a pair of leather slippers for her feet. “I thought this gown would suit you. The color of the fabric matches your eyes.”

  Though it was in stark contrast to what she was used to wearing, Juliet felt feminine pleasure at the sight of such a beautiful dress. In truth, she hadn’t worn one in years.

  After Esperanza helped with the laces at the back of the gown, she opened the canvas curtain of the bathing stall. Juliet followed behind her.

  As they walked across the grass, Juliet felt the familiar weight in her heart seem to lighten with each step. Perhaps Esperanza was like the fairy godmother in the tale of Cinderella, for she had woven a magical spell around Juliet with her generous care and this beautiful gown.

  She felt like a princess.

  Then she saw him.

  Carver Adams, the handsome English Captain, watched the two women as they approached.

  The expression in his light green eyes rocked Juliet to her core.

  Desire.

  Passion.

  Masculine heat.

  His gaze never left hers. It bored into her with piercing intensity as she drew closer with each step.

  It was then Juliet knew things would never be the same for her again…would never be the same for them.

  Something was coming, and she was powerless to stop it.

  As she neared the man who was now her captor, Juliet realized how dangerous things might become. For this unforgettable man could turn her into his captive forever, if she let him.

  Chapter 12

  Carver was unprepared for the sight of Juliet walking toward him from the bathing stall. If he’d thought Lady Blade was distracting in the tight cavalry breeches she usually wore, she was even more so now that she was freshly bathed and dressed in beautiful clothes.