“Do you have any sort of weapon?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Daddy Beau has a rifle, but I noticed the other day that it wasn’t where he usually keeps it. Might be that he doesn’t trust me anymore.” She winced and stretched her back. “I do have this.” She bent down and pulled up her shift, revealing a homemade sheath and a knife attached by a leather thong around her thigh. “I’ll have to leave it with you; there’s no place I can hide it.” She unfastened it and shoved it between the pillow and the dirty muslin case that covered it. Her eyes were huge. “All right, this is the plan.”
She proceeded to tell him the details of their escape—how she would drug Daddy Beau’s hooch, and, “I’ll even have to give some to Titan. You’ve probably noticed that he barks at shadows.”
Duncan asked her how they would maneuver once they left the cabin.
“I have a friend,” she said, her voice low. “He’s an Atakapa, full blood, not half like you. He has a dugout we can use to maneuver the rivers, and he’ll take us as far as he can. After that we’ll be on our own.” She glanced at the doorway again. “We’ll have to leave as soon as Daddy Beau falls asleep and get as far away as we can in the dark. My friend was born in the bayous and knows the streams we need to take to get to Bayou St. John.”
Duncan began to believe it was really going to happen. He felt a flutter of excitement. He took Kitten’s hand and squeezed it. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” he said, tossing a quick look at the door, “provided we get out of here alive.”
“You must take me with you, all the way, Daniel. You must.” There was panic in her eyes as she nervously pressed her fingers over a recent bruise. The fat man was sneaky; he never hit her in front of Duncan. “You know that when Daddy Beau discovers us gone, he’ll be madder and meaner than a cottonmouth. If he catches up to us, we’re both dead. If I go back, he’ll beat me so bad I’ll want to die.”
Duncan realized Kitten was risking her life to save his. If they got out of here, he vowed to make sure she was safe, and as far away from Daddy Beau as humanly possible.
• • •
Island of Hedabarr—1872
Isobel woke slowly and stretched. Her first notion of reality was that she wasn’t wearing her nightgown. She blushed and bit her lip to hide a smile.
“Good morning.”
She gasped and pulled the covers up to her neck. He stood at the foot of the bed holding a tray covered with a cloth. He wore his sark. She groped under the covers for her nightgown and couldn’t find it.
He put the tray down on a table beside the bed and reached for something, bringing up her wayward bedclothes. “Looking for this?”
She felt shy and reached out to take it from him. “Aye, please.”
“To make things even, I can take off my own.”
“I don’t want to encourage you,” she managed. “I’m not sure it’s legal to eat breakfast without clothes on.”
He picked up the tray and placed it in the middle of the bed. “Oh, I’m sure there’s a law about it. Someone somewhere has always got a law against anything, especially if it feels good.”
She cleared her throat and wiggled her fingers at him. “My nightgown, please?”
He frowned, appearing to think about it. “Well, ya see, lassie, me bride sewed me this here nightshirt and—”
Isobel started to giggle and put her hand over her mouth.
“What’s so funny, lassie?” He feigned indignation.
She shook her head and tried to stop laughing. “Your burr is the worst I’ve ever heard.”
“In that case…” In an instant, the sark was on the floor, and he stood before her naked and very proud.
She couldn’t look away. A strip of hair grew from his navel down into a thatch of the blackest hair she’d ever imagined. And springing from that was what had given her so much pleasure earlier. She looked up into his eyes. “I’ve never seen one before.” She could swear the thing moved as she spoke.
“You keep looking at it and breakfast will have to wait,” he threatened, his eyes dark with desire.
Even under his weightless threat, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
“Izzy.” His voice was low and menacing.
It seemed to get even bigger before her eyes. She glanced up briefly. “Why is it growing?”
“Obviously because you’re looking at it like you want to, I don’t know, maybe eat it?”
She couldn’t tear her gaze away. “Oh, be serious.”
“You can touch it if you want to, only I can’t prevent it from getting even bigger if you do.”
Her whole body shook with need. She had no idea a person could feel such hunger for someone and something. She could barely breathe as she watched him remove the breakfast tray and then join her on the bed, facing her.
“Sit on it, Izzy.”
Without a second thought, she moved to straddle him, closing her eyes and holding her breath as she eased herself down onto his shaft. She put her legs around his waist and felt him go even deeper. She put her arms around his neck and he held her shoulders to steady her. As she moved against him, she felt that tingling part of her come even more alive and she continued to move, pressing and rubbing herself against him as he thrust into her. Once again, the beautiful wildfire spread through her, sending her into spasms of joy. She pressed her lips against his shoulder to keep from crying out. She felt him come as well, and when her breathing finally steadied a bit, her ears were ringing.
She stayed where she was, pulled tightly against him, feeling languid and lazy. She lifted her head and looked at him. He was smiling at her.
She struggled to get off him and punched him on the arm. “Am I so very humorous this morning?”
He continued to smile. “It’s not humor that makes me smile at you, Izzy. Look at my shoulder.”
She glanced at it and gasped, pressing her fingers to her mouth. “I did that?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s my badge of honor.”
She quickly tucked herself under the covers. “I’m sorry I bit you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who seemed to enjoy a good roll in the hay as much as you do.”
She snuggled against the pillow, turning away from him. “My goodness, aren’t you the sweet talker?”
He was quiet behind her. “What did you want me to say, Isobel?”
What had she wanted him to say? That she was the best he’d ever had? That he had fallen in love with her? She didn’t know. All she knew for sure at this moment was that she didn’t want to break the mood. “Are you going to spoon me or not?”
He chuckled and accommodated her. “I guess breakfast will just have to wait.”
“My, yes. After all that spent energy, I need a nap.”
He hugged her close. “That’s my girl.”
Yes, Isobel thought, be his girl. It was better than nothing.
Chapter Eighteen
Rosalyn joined her daughter on the wide brick patio next to her garden and watched as Fifi played havoc with the big hounds and the collies.
“She isn’t afraid, is she?” Rosalyn put the tea tray down on the table and took a seat beside Lily.
“She’s fearless,” Lily answered.
“Of course you realize that the men in this household have a bet going to see how quickly one of the big hounds has her for lunch.”
Lily continued to watch her pup. “I think I overheard that. They’d just as well try to eat a rabid ferret.”
Rosalyn watched the animals cavort on the lawn. “She does appear to have the upper hand for some reason. Someone new for the dogs to play with besides the sickie sheep.” She put her hand on the girl’s arm. “Something troubling you?”
Lily turned to her and looked straight into her eyes; there was a coolness there that concerned Rosalyn. “I think you know.”
Some of the spirit went out of Rosalyn. “Why do you have to learn about this?”
“Because it involves me. Whatever
it is, it’s part of who I am.”
“It’s not pleasant.”
“I guessed that, otherwise it wouldn’t be so hard to tell me about it.”
It was time, Rosalyn knew, especially as long as Lily wouldn’t let it go. “It has to do with your father.”
“I rather guessed that, too. There is never a mention of him.”
“Before I say any more, I will tell you that he charmed me. He had a way of making me believe everything he said. He was a manipulator.”
“And,” Rosalyn added, “he did things to children that hopefully sent him straight to hell.” She nearly choked on the words.
Lily’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes were wide. “You mean, he—”
“I discovered this after I became pregnant with you. He’d been touching the young girls whose mothers worked for us; one of them was brave enough to tell me.”
Lily sat quietly, one hand in her lap, the other still over her mouth, as she gazed into the distance.
“Naturally I divorced him,” Rosalyn went on. “I took you and came here, to Hedabarr, where my friend Fenella was practicing nursing. I felt safe here; your father didn’t have any knowledge of my friendship with Fenella, so I wasn’t concerned that he would show up here. We stayed with Fenella for over two years before he found us.”
Lily turned to her, her eyes still wide, her voice a whisper. “He found us here, on Hedabarr?”
Rosalyn nodded. “Somehow he tracked me down. He was relentless. A normal man would have gotten the hint that what we had was over, but not him. He didn’t like to lose. He had seen so little of you because I left him as soon as both of us were strong enough. He was a very possessive man as well. What was his was his for all eternity.” She shuddered and rubbed her arms with her hands. “So even though he had rarely seen you, you were his. And so was I.”
“What happened when he found us?”
Rosalyn rolled her head around to loosen her stiff neck. “He must have been watching the place for a while, because he waited until Fenella and Reggie, her handyman, left in the buggy to get supplies in Sheiling.
“There was a short knock on the door, and at first I thought Fen must have forgotten something, so I opened it, expecting to see her standing there. Much to my surprise and dismay, it was your father.” Rosalyn swallowed hard, remembering how she’d felt the moment she saw him.
“Where was I?” Lily asked.
“You were napping. You’d had a bit of a cold and Fen had given you some syrup so you wouldn’t cough; it made you sleepy.” She took Lily’s hand in hers and squeezed it.
“He walked right in as if he belonged there. He even brought a bottle of champagne and some chocolates, believing that if he gave me gifts I’d soften and forgive him.” She shuddered again. “He really didn’t know me very well.” Rosalyn stood and paced in front of Lily.
“He got down on his knees and begged for my forgiveness.” A grim smile appeared on her lips. “He even cried. I wondered how long he’d been practicing that. But I’d lived two happy years without him and I wasn’t taken in by his drama. He pleaded with me, saying he couldn’t live without his little family.”
Rosalyn paused in front of a trellis, where a climbing rose bush blossomed. “I didn’t fall for any of it. He was so full of himself I doubt he thought I’d refuse. When I told him to get out and leave us alone, he appeared contrite, although I knew it was just another act.
“He slumped into a chair, pretending to give in. I remember him looking up at me with his soulful eyes, asking if we couldn’t at least drink a glass of champagne together before he left. I thought only to get rid of him, so I agreed.” She sat again, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “But he didn’t just give me champagne; he put something else in it and I fell asleep. When I awoke, you were gone. He had kidnapped you.” Rosalyn wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.
“And then what happened?” Lily’s voice was almost a whisper.
Rosalyn sniffled. “There was a search, and on the other side of the water, near Ayr, they found a small capsized boat with your father’s body floating nearby. But you were nowhere to be found. They combed the river and the area around it, but nothing. You were gone.” Her voice squeaked as she finished the sentence.
Rosalyn sat, feeling spent and anxious.
Lily rose from her chair, knelt on the bricks, and put her head in her mother’s lap. “And you were unhappy.”
Rosalyn stroked her daughter’s hair. It was so very much like hers, thick and easy to care for. Even the color was similar. Rosalyn often wondered if she would ever have recognized her darling girl under any other circumstances. “Unhappy hardly describes the pain and heartache that stayed with me until the day I found you again.”
Lily hugged her mother’s knees, and neither spoke or moved until the dogs alerted them of the arrival of company.
Lily’s gaze went to the road. A man on horseback trotted toward the castle. On a swift intake of breath, she stood up. “Stefan?”
Rosalyn stood as well. “You know him?”
Lily nodded. “It’s Stefan. He a friend of my brother’s. How in the world did he find me here?”
Rosalyn noticed the pulse at her daughter’s throat throbbing hard beneath the fragile skin. Lily walked swiftly toward him when he dismounted. He smiled and held out his arms, an invitation for an embrace.
“Stefan.” Her voice was filled with disbelief. “What…how…”
Stefan swept Lily into his arms and hugged her. She couldn’t believe it. She thought she might never see him again.
They both laughed, the sound joyful, excited. He put her on the ground but kept his arm around her.
“I have disturbing news,” he began, his voice suddenly somber. “It’s Mum. She’s very ill and she wants to see you before she…gets worse.”
Surprised, Lily asked, “She wants to see me? Why?”
Stefan ran his fingers along Lily’s cheek and she put her hand over his. “Ever since you left she has felt guilty about how little she showed her affection for you.”
Comfortable warmth cloaked Lily as she heard the words. “Oh, I never wanted her to feel any guilt.”
“I know, I know,” Stefan answered. “But I’ve come to take you to her, just for a while, perhaps until…she passes on. It would mean a lot to her, Lily.”
The two spoke softly to one another, the young man obviously carrying some sort of message to Rosalyn’s daughter. Rosalyn felt a bite of jealousy toward the intrusion into her now nearly perfect life.
Rosalyn, who had been watching them with apprehension, pasted a smile on her face when Lily brought him over and introduced him; Rosalyn was grateful she was introduced as Lily’s mother. God, would she ever get used to calling her a name that another woman gave her, clever as it was?
“I’ll take you and your mount to the stable so he can be fed and watered,” Lily offered. “We can talk there.” She gave her mother’s arm a squeeze and left with a very tall, dark, and handsome gypsy. Rosalyn raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the path she often took to see Fen and was grateful to find her friend hiking over the grass toward her.
Fen frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Rosalyn felt rattled and nervous. “Would you believe my daughter, Lily, Fiona, whatever you wish to call her, is in the stable with a very handsome young gypsy?”
Fen raised her eyebrows. “Ooo la la. But how do you know he’s a gypsy?”
Rosalyn frowned at her. “He came looking for her, found her, embraced her, laughed with her, and now he’s in my stable with her, talking about God knows what.”
“Well, at least they’re just talking…”
“Fenella! This is serious. I never envisioned her old life would come back to haunt me, but it has.” She rubbed her hands nervously over her arms and stared at the stable.
“You kind of wished there was simply a big gap there, between her kidnapping and her latest rescue?”
“I don’t know. It’s foolish
, I realize that, but I knew all I had to know, to be honest. I knew she was saved, she was cared for, she was fed, and she wasn’t abused. I just didn’t think about the entire life she led when she was taken from me.”
“And here it is, in the guise of a handsome young gypsy.” Fen tucked her arm through Rosalyn’s. “Any inkling at all why he’s here?”
Rosalyn didn’t take her eyes off the stable entry. “I imagine we’ll find out soon enough.” She felt Fen studying her.
“You want an excuse to go to the stable, don’t you?”
“Of course I want to go to the stable. And the nosy woman inside me wants to listen to their conversation without being seen.”
Neither noticed Delilah until they heard her wheezing behind them. She stopped, and when she’d gotten her breath, said, “Anyone going to stop me from washing all them windows? I can hardly see outside, they’re so dirty.”
Rosalyn gave her a look of gratitude. “If you want to wash windows, Delilah, who am I to stop you? But ask Mattie and one of the girls to help. It’s a big job for just one person.”
They both watched as she trudged off toward the castle.
“Does she seem all right to you?” Rosalyn had noted how breathless the woman was when she reached them.
“Something’s going on. I wish she’d come to see me; I don’t know how I’d approach her otherwise. Do you think Isobel has noticed the change?”
“I don’t know. But that’s the last thing she needs when she gets back from her little wedding trip. She’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, Isobel can’t believe she could finally be happy. So, if Delilah is ill, it would prove that Isobel is right. Again.”
Shoes crunching on gravel alerted them to Lily and her guest’s approach.
Rosalyn’s gaze immediately went to her daughter’s face, and she knew something was wrong.
“Stefan is staying the night, Mother.”
The Scoundrel's Pleasure Page 18