Wild legacy

by Conn, Phoebe

  "Ian would be touched by your concern for me," Sean responded smugly.

  "Just eat!"

  Sean swallowed the rest of the nearly tasteless broth without further complaint, but the instant Dominique set the empty bowl on the floor, he reached out to grab her wrist. He did not ask the most obvious question aloud, but the

  sharp angle of his brow spoke it clearly. He tightened his grasp and waited.

  Sean was still so weak that Dominique could have easily broken his hold, but she chose to relax instead. She looked out the window and wondered if Falcon were lurking nearby. She did not actually owe Sean an explanation, and she could not provide one that even hinted at Falcon's involvement, but desperately needing his sympathetic silence, she gave the truth the same clever spin she had used the first time they had met.

  "Belle and I were restless at home. We wished to tend wounded, and came south believing we could be of service. I like to think that we have been."

  Dominique exhibited a serenity she had lacked in their earlier acquaintance. Sean assumed maturity had imparted a new seriousness to her manner, but if anything, it made her even more desirable. She was a woman now, rather than a luscious child, and he wished he felt well enough to fully appreciate the change. Disgusted that just sipping soup had tired him, he closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them, he longed for far more than his damaged body would allow.

  "Kiss me," he said.

  It was an order rather than a request, but Dominique leaned over him to comply. When her lips met his, she felt an unnatural warmth and grew alarmed. Intimidated by his grasp, she had been concentrating on the conversation so intently she had not felt the heat in his hand before now.

  "You're feverish," she worried aloud. "I'll change your dressing and brew some special tea."

  "Poison?" he asked, only half in jest.

  Dominique shook her head. "If I'd wanted you dead, Sean, you'd already be in the ground." She peeled his fingers off her wrist and went to fetch the last of the chamomile infusion to make another poultice. She removed his bandage and found his shoulder swollen and inflamed.

  She worked quickly to spare him pain, but each time her fingertips brushed his skin, she felt him flinch.

  "This may hurt a bit now, but it will speed the healing and you'll feel better soon."

  Sean had nearly bitten through his lip to keep from crying out. "I hope so."

  "We keep tea made from the bark of the white willow brewing constantly. I'll bring you some, and don't worry, I'll add honey to improve its taste." She soon returned with a battered tin cup and raised his head so he could sip it easily. "Try and sleep now without the laudanum if you can," she encouraged. "I'm going out for more herbs, and I'll give you another cup of tea as soon as I return."

  Fatigue and the warm tea had dulled the sharp edges of Sean's mood and he closed his eyes without making another pointed comment. Dominique touched his hair lightly, then withdrew. "We need more chamomile," she announced loudly enough for both Belle and Dr. Perry to overhear. Busy with an amputee, the physician waved her away.

  Belle had been folding bandages, but laid them aside. "Let's saddle our horses then, and gather some."

  Dominique led the way out the back door, but they found Lieutenant Beck standing just outside. "If you've somewhere to go, Colonel O'Keefe instructed me to provide you with an escort," he said.

  He looked inordinately pleased about the assignment and considering the haste with which he had abandoned them there, Dominique thought his change of heart odd. Unless, of course, Sean had prompted it. "That won't be necessary," she replied. "We're just going out to search for herbs. We won't be away from camp long."

  The lieutenant moved to block their way. "That's far too dangerous an errand for you to run alone, ladies. While British regulars would never attack defenseless women, Colonial troops are unfettered by scruples. Now, either my men

  and I accompany you, or you will not be permitted to leave camp."

  Leland Beck was obviously in control of the situation, but Belle could not hide her disgust. "I would hate to take a man of your unique abilities away from his other duties, Lieutenant. If you have a musket we could borrow, we'll gladly defend ourselves."

  The lieutenant appeared to give her request serious thought, but then shook his head. "I know you could probably defend yourself with that lively tongue of yours, Miss Scott, but Colonel O'Keefe is very worried about your sister. Let's hurry. I don't want any of the wounded to suffer from lack of attention for too long."

  "Neither do we," Dominique assured him. They brought along the picnic basket to hold whatever they might find, but neither young woman could keep her mind on the task. This was to have been a brief excursion designed to allay Dr. Perry's suspicions, if he held any, as to their loyalty. Their second trip was to have been their escape, but stymied on their first, each was desperately disappointed.

  As they neared the edge of the woods, Belle fully expected Falcon to shoot Lieutenant Beck. She certainly did not like the officer, but the prospect of his losing his life at any moment was a terrible strain. She prayed Falcon would wait for another target, but it was difficult to seek medicinal herbs while anticipating the bloodshed he could so easily cause. She and Dominique dismounted to pick some sprigs of peppermint, but the lieutenant was never more than a few steps away, preventing them from modifying their escape plan.

  Horribly distracted by his presence, they returned to Camden with only a few of the herbs they had hoped to find, but it was enough to justify the trip in Dr. Perry's eyes, even if they had failed miserably in their own. Dominique gave Sean a second cup of white willow bark tea, but he sipped it slowly, and she was sincerely worried

  that he might still be too weak to survive his wound. His safety was also a continuing concern, but she had yet to invent a plausible excuse for him to have a guard An armed soldier would only endanger Falcon's life should he come for Sean, and that possibility tormented her, too.

  Once they had returned to their tent, Belle released her frustrations in a strangled hiss. "You can't keep sitting up all night with Sean and working most of the day," she complained, "or you'll exhaust yourself and end up on a cot with the wounded."

  Dominique had barely touched her dinner, but she was too tired to have much appetite. She knew Belle was right, but could see no alternative. "My health can't be a priority," she replied. "I really believed we could just ride out of here, but with Lieutenant Beck tagging along after us everywhere we go, that's not going to be possible. We could just sneak away on foot in the dead of night, but I'd hate to abandon Baby Dee and Ladybug."

  "We may have to," Belle countered. "No, wait," she begged. "What if we were to set all the horses loose?"

  "After we'd saddled our own?"

  "Yes," Belle enthused. "That would surely create enough confusion to allow us to get away. Let's do it tonight."

  Dominique grabbed for that hope, and then just as quickly discarded it. She wanted to leave as badly as Belle, but not yet. "I'm worried about Sean. He was feverish this afternoon."

  Belle made an effort to hold her temper, but was only partially successful. "He's a British officer, Dominique. We can't trust him to do anything other than betray us."

  Dominique rose from her cot and placed her hands in the small of her back as she stretched lazily. "He could have done that yesterday, but didn't."

  "Perhaps he's toying with us the way a cat delights in tormenting a mouse, He'll bat us around with his paws until

  he grows bored, and then we'll be swallowed without so much as a burp."

  Despite Belle's vivid metaphor, Dominique did not want to believe that Sean could be so cruel. "It's also possible he still has feelings for me."

  "Do you want him to?" Belle chided. "Do you want him to beg you to stay with him? Why do you think he told Lieutenant Beck to keep an eye on us? Was that the action of a loving, trusting man?"

  "He has no reason to trust us, Belle, but he's been badly hurt and may not
be thinking all that clearly." Dominique waited a moment and then added, "Like Falcon, I'm sure he's shocked and surprised, and doesn't know quite what to make of us being here."

  Belle had thought of little else all day. "That's why we need to move on now," she stressed, "before either of them turns vicious."

  Dominique understood that her sister was still recoiling from her latest bitter encounter with Falcon, but she trusted her cousin not to turn on them. Sean, however, posed another problem entirely. "I'm going to check on Sean, but I won't wait up with him all night. Now that I've had time to consider the matter fully, I know Falcon wouldn't harm him while he's as weak as a babe."

  Sick of arguing about Sean, when Dominique returned to the farmhouse, Belle fetched a bucket of warm water to wash, then sat on her cot in her chemise. She did not know which was worse, the prospect of Falcon bursting into their tent a second time, or that he might have already ridden as far as he could go in the opposite direction. Worn out by worry, she lay down and closed her eyes, but Falcon soon interrupted her dreams.

  Falcon knelt beside the cot and ran his hand down Belle's back, then leaned close to kiss her cheek. "Belle," he coaxed, "wake up. We need to talk."

  Belle had left the lantern burning for Dominique and she

  could make out Falcon's expression clearly. The fierce strain anger had lent his features was gone, and a slow smile curled across his lips. This was the man she loved, but still wary, she sat up slowly.

  "You ought not to be here," she scolded.

  "Neither should you," Falcon replied. "Where's Dominique?"

  "Where she always is: tending Sean."

  Falcon heard the note of jealousy in her complaint and wondered if she missed her sister's company or envied her devotion. "Do you want him for yourself?" he asked.

  Sickened by his question, Belle glanced away. She had never wanted any man but Falcon, but could not forget how eager he had been to escape her on his last visit home. And she had pursued him! she agonized. "I hope Sean dies an agonizing death," she finally replied, "and soon."

  He knew without having to ask that she would have told Dominique that he had shot Sean, but he did not regard it as a breach of trust. He would have bragged about it to Dominique himself had he had the chance. "Come with me," he urged, but Belle shrank back slightly and that hurt him badly. "Are you afraid of me now? Have I ruined everything between us?"

  The pain of that possibility filled his expression with such utter desperation that Belle reached out to caress his cheek. She loved him so dearly, but he had given her an awful fright. "I didn't think you wanted anything between us."

  Falcon knew he had given her good 'cause for that sorry opinion, but hoped to change it. "You have always been a challenge, Belle." He slid his hand around her neck to draw her close for a kiss he made very light and endearing until he was confident she wanted more as badly as he.

  "Come with me," he repeated in a softer tone. "It's too dangerous for us here." He rose and offered his hand to help Belle to her feet.

  She reached for her shawl and stepped into her shoes. "I'll just wear my chemise. If anyone stops us I'll say I was going to the river to bathe."

  "And what excuse should I give?"

  "You're so clever, they wouldn't even see you."

  "The soldiers are too lazy to watch the river. We'll be as safe there as we were at home on the banks of the James." He raised the tent flap and peered out. He heard crickets aplenty, but no male voices carried on the warm night air. He reached back for Belle's hand, then left camp by a different route than he had used the previous night. Once they reached the river, he followed the narrow trail skirting the shore a long way upstream, then angled into the woods. Too hungry for Belle to take her all the way to his camp, he turned and drew her into his arms.

  Belle's first thought was that Falcon could not make up his mind about her from one day to the next while her love for him never wavered. Her second thought was that his kiss was so delicious she did not care how fickle he might be. She leaned into his embrace, slid her hands under his shirt, and hugged him tight. He was lean and tough, and she took comfort in his strength rather than demand the touching promises she had once craved.

  Falcon released Belle just long enough to rip off his shirt, then threw it down to provide her with a soft bed. He tossed away her shawl, and then drew her back into his arms. "You are already mine," he breathed against her lips. It was an arrogant vow, but the only one he would give. He wound his fingers in her hair. Touched by the moonlight, the curls shone like spun gold.

  He kissed her hard, and then deeply. He traced the delicate bow of her lips with the tip of his tongue, teasing her until she thrust her tongue into his mouth in a passionate plea for more. He sucked her tongue, and lifted her off her feet. Her shoes fell to the leaves, and when he set her down, he untied the bow at the neckline of her chemise. He

  stepped back, and needing no encouragement, she shrugged it off. The linen garment pooled at her feet, but she quickly stepped out of it and back into his arms.

  Falcon uttered a low, satisfied groan as the lush fullness of Belle's breasts melted into the hard planes of his chest. He ran his hands down her back, then cupped her buttocks to enjoy the silken smoothness of their gentle swell. He ground his hips against hers, forcefully proving how badly he wanted her, then captured her mouth for another kiss that blurred into another, and another.

  Belle's whole body ached with wanting him, the tips of her breasts were exquisitely sensitive, and she felt herself growing wet with desire. When Falcon leaned down to suckle, she slid her hands through his hair, and with a graceful dip encouraged him to drop down with her and stretch out on his shirt. She could hold him so much more easily now that she did not have to fight to remain on her feet.

  Falcon's mouth was still at her breast, but he ran his hand up her thigh, parting her legs and separating her tender folds with a gentle sweetness that made her cry out for more. His fingertips dipped, circled, and teased, creating the most delicious sensation she had ever known. The glorious feeling grew, spreading like the petals of an opening rose, and she bent her knee, encouraging him to give still more.

  Belle's own scent was more seductive than the finest French perfume, and Falcon burned with the need to sample her taste. He trailed kisses over the smooth flatness of her stomach, then parted the triangle of curls and sent the tip of his tongue across the bud nestled at the top of her cleft. He felt her shivering response, but knew it could not possibly be revulsion and took far more, lapping up her essence until her soft, mewing cries became breathless gasps.

  He unfastened his belt with one hand, shoved his buckskins aside, and moved up over her. Propping himself on his elbows, he slid the tip of his manhood through her crease, retracing the path he had just blazed with his lips.

  He coaxed lightly, probed gently, and then with a savage lunge, thrust deep into her heated core, and lay still. He felt her pain as surely as he had her pleasure, but waited now for it to wane.

  He kissed her eyelids, her earlobes, and then her trembling lips. "I am sorry to be the one to hurt you," he murmured in a husky whisper, "but I could not have stood it had it been another man."

  Belle could not even imagine such a possibility. She grabbed a handful of his hair to pull his mouth to hers and kissed him with an enthusiasm that erased whatever fears he may have had as to her reaction. He began to move with an easy motion that created soft flutterings deep within her. She relaxed in his arms, needing all he could give, and floated into it on passion's wings.

  The pain soon blurred into a numbing warmth, which gradually swelled to the pleasure he had taught her to expect. She clung to him, mirroring his thrusts to pull him down even deeper, until lost in him, she was filled with a sparkling burst of joy that enveloped him in the same glorious splendor. She had followed him for love, but knew this night would leave them forever changed.

  She whispered in his ear, "I swear I love you more than life, Falcon."

&
nbsp; The brave rose up slightly. "No. Never more than life, for I could not bear to lose you." He smothered her pretty promises with lavish kisses and made love to her again. Then, when the sky began to lighten, he took her down to the river to wash away all evidence of their passion. He felt her watching him as he bathed, too, but shook his head.

  "I can't keep you with me a minute longer. Tell Dominique you are leaving tonight. I'll come for the both of you. Be ready."

  Belle shook the leaves off her chemise and pulled it on over her head. "We'll need horses. Is there a way to take Ladybug and Baby Dee?"

  Falcon responded with a derisive snort. "I could steal horses from a British camp at noon. Don't worry. I'll have your pets." He walked part of the way with her, then, after a last lingering kiss, disappeared into the woods and left her to find her way back to her tent alone.

  A thin layer of fog brushed the ground, making it difficult for Belle to follow the main path from the river, but she stayed close enough to prevent anyone from tracing the route of her late-night excursion. She held her breath, half expecting to find Lieutenant Beck waiting for her, but there was no one standing guard by their tent. Dominique had sworn she would not sit up with Sean again, but her cot was empty.

  Not really caring what her sister did after having spent such a reckless and wonderful night with Falcon, Belle lay down to catch what sleep she could before morning. She stretched and with a mischievous smile, wondered what it would be like to make love with Falcon in a feather bed.

  Dominique's night had been anything but blissful. Sean was in agony, and while she had every confidence her chamomile poultices were healing his wound, he had no such belief. Dr. Perry had prescribed increased doses of laudanum, but Sean had refused them.