Savage Deception (Liberty's Ladies)

by Lynette Vinet

  “I’ve always enjoyed watching the rain,” she explained. “When I was a little girl my mother worked for a wealthy family who had glass on their windows. We didn’t, of course, because we were poor. But whenever the thunder started, I’d stop my chores at home and go running to the big house and creep into the dining room to watch the raindrops skate down the glass. Believe it or not, I spent many happy and contented hours doing that.”

  “Were you ever caught?”

  Annabelle laughed. “Never! I’ve always been careful, Tanner. That’s what made me so valuable as a spy.”

  She seemed so vulnerable as she stood there with her hand on his arm. Annabelle was the epitome of beauty and innocence, but Tanner knew Annabelle better than most people, and he knew how her mind worked. For months she’d kept the whole city of Philadelphia in her thrall, no one suspecting that the woman they thought of as a poor orphan, a patriotic heroine of the fight for independence, was a calculating imposter. But he’d known, and he suddenly knew that somehow Annabelle thought he might be on to her. Any sympathy or doubt he had felt for her now fled on feet swifter than the approaching storm.

  Tanner smiled malevolently and quickly wrenched an earbob from her pretty lobe, causing Annabelle to squeal in what sounded like pain but that was probably more indignation than anything else. “Just what are you doing?” she shrieked, and made a move to grab the garnet object from his hand.

  “Tsk, tsk, Annabelle, I’m examining your precious family heirloom, that’s all.” Tanner turned it over in his hand. Holding the earbob up to the lighted torch on the piazza wall, he saw the letter M clearly engraved on the gold backside. “Ah, you’ve been keeping secrets again, my dear.”

  “God, I hate it when you sound like that!”

  “Sound like what?” he asked, but Tanner already knew what she meant, purposely changing from Tanner Sheridan to his alter ego.

  “Like Mariah, damn you. Your face gets a frozen look, like you might be smiling, but you’re not really pleased. And your eyes, well, a person can’t see anything in them but blackness. And your voice becomes hard edged but monotone and … and I hate it!”

  Tanner bent close to her, his mouth skimmed the bare spot on her earlobe. “In New York you didn’t seem to mind. Remember, Annabelle, how it was between us.”

  “But we were different then. We forgot who and what we were.” Annabelle’s lower lip trembled.

  “That was wrong of us, because it only makes it harder now.” He straightened and took the other garnet from her ear and grabbed her hand to slide the ring from her finger. “Now, for old times’ sake, tell me where you got these jewels.”

  “They were my grandmother’s…”

  “You’re lying, love.”

  Annabelle shook her head defiantly. “They’re mine! I told Anne Richmond they are heirlooms. That’s it, isn’t it? Anne told you a lie about me. Don’t believe her, Tanner.” She pushed close against him, rubbing suggestively against the lower half of him. “Anne Richmond hates me because she knows I love you, that you might love me, too.”

  “Stop it!” he barked, and savagely threw her from him. “I don’t love you and never will, and you don’t love me either. You want my wealth, as you’ve always wanted money, and would do anything to have it. And merciful God, I admit I’ve been no better! But for once, Annabelle, be honest and tell me about these jewels. I know they belong to Diana and that they were stolen. Admit the truth. Otherwise, my lovely Annabelle,” and here his voice lowered and seemed to chill the very air, “your life will be as nothing, if I even let you live… .”

  Tanner loomed over her, seeming larger and more menacing than the storm whose whipping wind stirred up the trees. The palmettos beat raggedly against the house, sounding like Annabelle’s own heartbeat. For the first time in her life, she tasted genuine fear, unable to force a bravado exterior. She knew what Mariah was capable of doing, had seen his handiwork with her own eyes, but he’d been doing jobs for money then. Now his wife’s life and safety were at stake. Annabelle doubted he’d be as gentle with her as he had been with some of the men he’d turned in to the British. There were times she still shuddered to remember what Mariah had done to force the truth from them.

  Tanner and his wealth would never belong to her now, even if Diana didn’t return. She was so horribly tired of lying, of assuming other identities, and with the ending of the war, she didn’t have to any longer. She was free now, free only if she appeased Mariah, and the man who watched her with hooded lids was Mariah — there was no doubt about that.

  Annabelle licked her lips. “I … want to know what you’ll do with me if I tell … you the truth.”

  “Wonder what I’ll do if you don’t,” was his intimidating reply.

  “I have, and I don’t relish the thought, but I still have to think of myself, you know. I want your assurance that I’ll leave here with no fear of reprisals from you.”

  “You have my word, but when you leave here, I want your promise never to return and upset my life. Otherwise, you’ll have no life of your own left to worry about.”

  She could tell he meant what he said, and she nodded in agreement, her face extremely pale. “Kingsley Sheridan enlisted me to get the jewels for him. He’d stored them in the bricks behind the fireplace, and I found them for him. I did it to have you. He promised me that you wouldn’t be harmed, but I know now Kingsley meant to have you killed. And Diana, well, I admit that I didn’t think too much about her fate.”

  Annabelle gasped as he gripped her wrist and hauled her to him. “Kingsley is alive?!’’

  “Y … es.”

  “Where did he take Diana? Tell me where he took her.”

  “How in the name of God do I know where he took her? Briarhaven, I’d assume, because he seemed obsessed with claiming Diana and his rightful place as master. Now what is to become of me?”

  Tanner stared at her with piercing black eyes, eyes that suddenly shot flames. “Get your things together. I’m going to make certain you’re taken care of, and in a kinder fashion than you deserve. Just say I’m being generous for what we shared in New York.”

  Annabelle didn’t even ask what he had in mind, but as she hurriedly packed her belongings, she knew better than to try to escape from Tanner’s clutches. In fact, she was more than a bit curious about how he intended to deal with her. An hour later Annabelle had her answer. After a furious ride through the city, Tanner pulled her from the carriage and she found herself on the docks before a large British frigate. He dragged her unceremoniously up the gangplank and thrust into a room where Samuel sat at a table, going over paperwork.

  “Sheridan, what’s the meaning of this?” Samuel rose and immediately grabbed for Annabelle. Never in her life had she been so glad to see anyone.

  “This wench belongs to you, Farnsworth. I suggest you take her back to England with you when your regiment departs, and if I ever find her on my doorstep again, playing havoc with my life…”

  “I understand,” was Farnsworth’s instant acknowledgement of the situation.

  “I hope you do. And you, too, Annabelle. Remember what can happen even to such a pretty thing as yourself if you ever cross me again.”

  Annabelle nodded, too frightened to say or do anything else, but a great sense of relief seized her. Tanner was turning her over to Samuel!

  Like a great, black wind, Mariah departed and Annabelle found herself staring into Samuel’s narrowed eyes.

  “Whatever have you done?” he asked her.

  “Let’s just say I displeased Mariah … Tanner,” she corrected. “Samuel, do you still want to marry me?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  Annabelle’s eyes glowed with happiness and relief. She knew marriage to Samuel was her only answer now. “I agree to your proposal.”

  For a second, he examined his fingernails and then he lifted his head in a smile. “Life with me will be quite hard, my dear. I’m not a wealthy man, but I hope to advance myself.”

  “That
’s fine, my darling,” she said and kissed him. “Anything you want.” And for the moment that was fine with Annabelle. All of her promises made to herself only minutes ago when she thought she’d face a fate worse than Samuel slipped away. She’d marry Samuel Farnsworth and once again be on English soil. Once she’d tired of him, she’d find someone else who’d want her. Someone wealthy.

  ~

  “I’m going with you to Briarhaven,” David informed Tanner after Tanner’s return home. “I can’t have you going by yourself. You’re still not well enough, and heaven only knows what Kingsley is capable of. And … and I feel some responsibility for this atrocious situation since I gave my permission for Diana to marry the bounder in the first place.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Tanner said. “No one had any idea things would turn out this way.”

  “I shouldn’t have encouraged Diana to marry him,” Anne said, clutching her kerchief in her hand. “I knew how much she didn’t want to marry Kingsley. And I thought you were wrong for her, but she was so happy with you, Tanner. And now Kingsley is alive. What has happened to my sister? I can’t bear for Diana to be harmed by that monster!”

  “I’ll find her,” Tanner assured Anne and kissed her cheek. “I promise you that Kingsley Sheridan shall rue the day he took her from me.”

  As Tanner and David rode hard away from Charlestown, the heavens broke and pelted them with rain. Rivulets of water ran down their faces, their cloaks offering little protection against the deluge. Tanner had no time to think about his physical well-being. Perhaps it was because he at last knew where to look for Diana that he no longer felt weak. Heaven help Kingsley, he vowed, because he was determined to show no more mercy than Kingsley had shown him.

  None.

  ~

  Marisa glanced worriedly at Clay early the next morning. They stood at the window on the upper floor and watched the rain deluge the fields, clearly seeing the swirling yellow waters of the Santee push over the banks. Clay frowned. “The rain started so fast that there was no time to start sandbagging, but no matter, we don’t have adequate hands to help. The river’s rising higher every hour and soon we’re going to be flooded. Tell your mother we have to start moving furniture out of the way. I’ll pull up the carpets. Before this day’s over, we’re going to be soaked.”

  “But Kingsley may object,” Marisa worried.

  Clay grunted. “Kingsley’s dead drunk. He must have found a bottle of brandy or something in the cellar. I doubt he cares what’s done with the house.”

  Marisa placed her hand on Clay’s arm. “Something isn’t right about all of this. I mean, it’s so odd that Kingsley is suddenly alive, yet he hasn’t made the effort to go into Charlestown and claim Diana or to talk to Tanner about what is to be done. Mother’s in a frenzy about how people will gossip. Diana’s a bigamist and doesn’t know it.”

  “It will work out,” Clay assured her with a smile. “But right now, we’ve got a more immediate worry with the Santee.”

  ~

  “Tanner, Tanner,” Diana moaned and moved restlessly in her sleep. She dreamed he stood outside the cellar door and called her name, but she couldn’t move toward the sound. Her body ached, her legs were unable to move. In her dream she cried out that she was going to die, their baby was going to die, but she suddenly woke to find her face was wet with tears.

  Diana came alert to the pounding of rain outside, but what truly roused her was the dampness on her back and legs. She adjusted her eyes to the dim light of the cellar and realized with a start that water was coming in from beneath the tunnel door. Evidently, the tunnel was flooding, and now the water seeped slowly in the cellar. What was worse than the flooding was the horrible, achy way she felt. She knew she burned with a fever. Getting up, she dragged her damp blanket with her, wrapping herself inside of it. Making her way laboriously up the cellar steps, she found she couldn’t go any further than half the distance before she was forced to sit down from exhaustion. She took deep, aching breaths but was unable to summon even the strength to move and bang upon the door in the hope that someone would hear her. Somehow she knew no one would.

  “Oh, Tanner,” she sobbed. “You can’t be dead. I don’t believe it. But if you aren’t, then why haven’t you come for me? Why? Why?”

  Despair sliced away at her heart like a sharp-edged sword. She had no idea if what Kingsley told her about Tanner was true; she wondered if Kingsley even knew the truth sometimes. He seemed to speak in riddles and he frightened her with his threats. If only she could make it into the tunnel, somehow force the door open — but in her present, weak condition she could barely hold up her head. Her fate was crystal clear to her; she would die in the cellar.

  “Miss Diana, Miss Diana, is you down there?”

  For more than a few seconds, Diana thought she might be dreaming. But it came again, and she recognized Jackie’s childish tones. “Jackie, I’m … here,” she managed to cry feebly, but Jackie heard her.

  “You need help?” he called through the door.

  “Yes, yes. Get Hattie … or Clay.” God, she was losing her breath and could barely speak.

  “I will, Miss Diana, never you worry.”

  Jackie knew she was down here. He was going to get help for her. “We’re going to be all right,” she whispered to the baby that kicked in her abdomen. “Jackie’s going to help us.” A sense of peace washed over her as she waited on the stairs for Hattie or someone to free her.

  ~

  When Kingsley awakened the house was in an uproar. Voices filtered up to his room and he heard the thumping sound of something being dragged up the stairs. Getting out of bed, he went into the hallway to complain about all the noise. Clay Sinclair pushed a heavy chair with Marisa’s help, and Diana’s Aunt Frances fluttered busily about the landing amid a group of chairs and small end tables.

  “The bottom floor is flooding,” Frances told him, not hiding her contempt. “The water’s coming into the house and we’re trying to save whatever we can, unlike some people I could name.”

  “I’d appreciate a hand with this, Kingsley, if you can tear yourself away from your bottle,” was Clay’s less-than-subtle comment. “Marisa isn’t strong enough to help with moving the heavier pieces of furniture.”

  “Let the slaves do it,” Kingsley retorted, his head throbbing from his hangover.

  “Cousin Kingsley, I should remind you that there are no slaves here now who might conceivably be able to lend a hand but Hattie, and she’s down with a dreadful fever. The slaves who are left are too old or too young to help. So that leaves you!” That was Marisa’s scornful retort. Her face expressed her utter disdain for him.

  Kingsley sighed his exasperation. Oh, why didn’t these people just leave him alone so he could think what to do about Diana?

  “Give me a chance to dress,” he snapped and headed into his room to pull on his boots. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he realized he looked awful, but then he’d probably looked worse than this months back. Yet the face that stared back at him didn’t seem to belong to him. Gone were the handsome features that all the ladies had adored. All except Diana that is, and the thought of how much she truly hated him ate away at his pride. He’d tended to the ungrateful bitch for weeks now, but not once had she thanked him for the food he brought her. Didn’t Diana realize that he could have kept her hidden in the swamps? But Kingsley didn’t care for the watery swamps himself, never having learned to swim, or did he like the abundant animal population.

  As it was, he needed to fill his own stomach and get breakfast for Diana, but first he’d been volunteered to help with the furniture.

  Before leaving his room, he leaned against the window frame and gazed out at the torrential downpour. The rain fell in steady sheets, and from where he stood he saw that the fields were already overrun with water. The water extended outward in all directions, even now lapping at the porch to enter the house. “Good grief, what next?” he mumbled under his breath.

  But
he nearly strangled on his own breath when he suddenly saw the answer to his question. There in the rain rode Tanner, resembling a sodden black eagle in his dark cape. David Richmond was beside him, looking equally wet. Kingsley felt hot then cold, then both sensations mingled within him at once and he thought he might die from the pain of it. And there was a damned good chance he would, if the determination he noticed in Tanner’s bearing was any indication.

  “The bastard’s alive!” he shouted and grabbed for his coat. He ran into the hallway, oblivious to the three people who stared and called after him. By all accounts, Kingsley had less than five minutes, the amount of time it would take Tanner to make his way through the mire and get into the house, to move Diana from the cellar. He couldn’t take her with him into the swamps, but he’d place her in the tunnel, where she’d be safe until he could escape with her. And he would take Diana away. Never would he allow Tanner to have her.

  Rushing headlong down the back staircase, he arrived at the cellar door and took the key from his pocket. Clicking open the lock, he nearly stumbled upon Diana, who sat on the stairs leaning against the wall. Without looking up she asked, “Jackie, is that you?”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms and hurriedly retraced his steps, leaving by way of the back door. With Diana in his arms, he ran the distance to the barn and pulled Diana up with him onto one of the horses he’d taken from Tanner’s carriage. She leaned like a rag doll against him, and Kingsley doubted she even knew where she was or who held her. Just as well, he decided. He didn’t need a screaming female now. If only he hadn’t locked the door from the cellar into the tunnel as a precaution against Diana’s escape, this mad dash could have been avoided.

  Spurring the horse along, he was more than surprised to discover that the animal didn’t balk at the flood water. The trip to the cemetery was made in less time than Kingsley had anticipated. His only problem was the rain that beat mercilessly down upon him and Diana. Within minutes he had entered through the tomb and found a spot for her to sit in the tunnel. The ground was wet, but he had no other alternative. Tanner would never find her in here. Kingsley would rather Diana died than be claimed by his half-breed brother, but Kingsley vowed that Diana wouldn’t die and neither would he. Before this day is over he told himself, Tanner would be dead once and for all.