The party which followed was much too long and tiring for the hostage bride. She could hardly eat any of the delicious treats which Mrs. Webster had prepared. She commanded herself to be the gracious hostess and to keep her mind off her shadowy future. For the first time, she was keenly aware of the great expense and trouble which her new husband had gone to for this occasion. For the first time in a long time, Alisha smiled at the beauty surrounding her.
“Does that lovely smile mean I did a marvelous job with our wedding, Mrs. Gordon?” Jeffery’s playful tone teased her.
She faced him; the flickering of an enchanting smile threatened to brighten her face if she permitted it. She did, and truthfully replied, “It’s stunning! I cannot imagine how you accomplished all of this beauty in the dead of winter. I seriously doubt anyone could have done better. But of course, Jeffery Gordon is accustomed to victory and to grandeur. Believe it or not, Jeffery, but I do appreciate the gown and all of this,” she stated as she motioned to their surroundings.
He flashed her a genuine smile, his eyes and features softening noticeably. “In all honesty, I couldn’t be more pleased with the arrangements or with you. I was a wee bit afraid you might not comply with my wishes,” he confessed with a buoyant grin which made her deeply conscious of his handsome, clean looks.
She glanced around her, then down at her ravishing gown. She laughed skeptically, then mirthfully challenged him, “Not for a single moment did you doubt your success, Jeffery Clayton Gordon. I venture you had this entire deal worked out down to the very number of petitfours. Besides, why would any sensible female give up the chance to be the center of attention at such a grand event? As you said earlier, my reprieve was granted only because my wedding gown was not completed by your first deadline,” she gently teased him.
“Does that tone and smile mean you’re not sorry you agreed to marry me?” Jeffery murmured close to her ear, as several people came near to them and stole their privacy.
She assumed an expression of deep and serious thought, then laughed. “Let’s just say that so far you haven’t given me any reason to regret my decision,” she whispered up at him. Steadily relaxing and feeling a deceptive confidence building, she added saucily, “In fact, only reasons to prove it was an extremely excellent one.
Before Jeffery could make any comment concerning her unexpected remarks, Henri came over to join them. He bowed gallantly to Alisha, then politely inquired, “Am I interrupting anything of major importance, or may I join you for a few moments?”
Henri was cordially invited into their company. Quick and easy banter was exchanged, often slipping into French. At first, Henri’s brow had raised in astonishment; then, he had grinned in unsuppressed pleasure. Jeffery informed Alisha that Henri was a river merchant and was mostly responsible for getting all of his needs for him from New Orleans. She was alert to realize this was how Jeffery had secured everything for this wedding. She immediately thanked Henri for his assistance and kindness.
“It was worth all the rush and trouble, Madame Gordon. You look magnifique,” he breathed, kissing the tips of his fingers, then casting the kiss to the wind.
“You are most kind, Monsieur Malraux:”
“Henri, please,” he urged.
She smiled warmly and nodded. “Henri, it is. If there is time later, will you tell me about this New Orleans which I have heard so much about? Has the war touched there yet?”
“Oui, but only in petite amounts. We shall discuss it in much detail when these ragamuffins have stuffed their bellies and departed.”
Alisha quickly clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent her uncontrollable giggles from spilling forth into the room. “Monsieur Mal… Henri, you are a rare delight in this wilderness. I shall look forward to your visits with eagerness.”
Henri gave her another sweeping bow, then chuckled with growing cheerfulness. “You, my dear Mrs. Gordon, are the rare delight in these crude parts. How I have sorely missed such company and conversation.”
“Merci,” she sweetly replied, eyes bright with joy.
Jeffery had quietly witnessed this humorous exchange between Alisha and Henri. He curiously wondered what Alisha would think if she knew the truth about this particular man. He could easily predict her reaction to Henri’s dealings in river piracy, trafficking in female flesh, and stooping to murder when necessary. He astutely decided that Henri was just as skilled in deception as he himself was…
The party continued on a lighter, more relaxed, note. There was dancing, eating, drinking, and merrymaking. It did not take long for Alisha to begin to feel the mingling effects of her tension, fatigue, and champagne. Jeffery had wisely waited until the majority of their guests had departed before ordering Mrs. Webster to bring out the case of chilled champagne, a gift from Henri.
Jeffery personally filled only two glasses, leaving the remaining chore to his housekeeper. He handed one to Alisha, then lifted the other one in his steady hand. He clinked his glass to hers, toasting, “May you always be as beautiful, happy, and treasured as you are this very minute.”
After taking several swallows, he grinned slyly and boldly countered, “Your turn, Mrs. Gordon…”
She thought for a few moments, trying to come up with a witty and appropriate toast. Smiling playfully, she touched her glass to his and bravely met his intense gaze. In a honeyed tone she murmured, “May you always be as handsome, pleasant, and pleasing as you are this most treasured night…”
Flames danced brightly and meaningfully in his blue eyes. Henri chuckled and devilishly noted, “Perhaps it is time we all left you two alone?”
Jeffery grinned painfully, knowing solitude wouldn’t profit him. He politely refused Henri’s suggestion, “Alisha and I have all the time in the world. Tonight, we wish to share our joy and hospitality with our friends who have travelled so far in such inclement weather. Right, my lovely bride?”
She smiled at Jeffery, relieved and encouraged by his action. She calmly agreed, “Jeffery is correct, Henri. This is a night to celebrate and to enjoy to the fullest, one to be treasured and remembered forever,” she stated, joining in his pretense.
“In such case, Madame Gordon, may I have this dance?” Henri entreated, holding out his hand to Alisha.
Alisha sent Jeffery a teasing, inquisitive look. “If my new husband does not object?” she replied.
Jeffery smiled at her for her cunning display of a loving bride. “By all means, my ravishing wife. Just remember where you borrowed her and return her promptly,” he jested to Henri.
Henri flashed a rueful look at both of them. “Au contrare, if I could sneak her away from you, mon ami, I would be about it this very moment, you lucky devil.” Both men laughed.
The dancing and drinking continued into the early morning hours. When Jeffery closed the front door behind the last guest, which was of course Henri, he turned to find Alisha poised in the center of the room. There was an anxious look written upon her face, fear in her emerald eyes.
He grinned knowingly. He swaggered over to her and looked down into her upturned, pale face. “The party’s over, Alisha. Is everything else as well?” he asked mysteriously.
She fluctuated between flushes and blanches as she searched for the proper response—which evaded her. Seeing her fearful hesitation and fatigue, he smiled and dropped any serious conversation.
“Later,” he stated flippantly. “You look exhausted, but still beautiful. Off to bed with you, wife. You were perfect tonight; I was well pleased. I think I’ll have another glass of champagne to toast my good fortune. Think you can find your way back to your room?” he inquired solicitously.
She nodded yes, confusion tinging her expression. “Good night, Jeffery. Everything was exceptionally lovely tonight. I shall never forget it.” She turned to head up the stairs. She halted and turned as he softly called her name. She tensed very noticeably. Dread filled her eyes. She waited nervously.
“For a good night kiss, you can have the key to your bedroom door
,” he tempted with a roguish hint in his voice as he dangled the key before her wary eyes. “Just for practice, nothing more. You seem too skittish and reserved with me before others. With a little work and honest effort, you can become just as calm around me as I am around you,” he stated.
Desperately wanting the key, but fearing it was only a cruel taunt, she hesitated just long enough to witness annoyed lights flicker in his chilling blue eyes. Dreading to inspire a savage confrontation at this early date in their new life, Alisha came forward and eased up on her tiptoes to comply with his request. In all honesty, she feared his disapproval and revenge more than she feared his touch.
As her trembling lips met his sensual ones, his strong arms went around her slender body and possessively pulled her very close to him. His skilled mouth claimed hers in an ardent kiss; his hard body pressed intimately against hers. Knowing she was his legal property and he could do whatever he pleased, she deemed it best to permit his unwanted attentions. Afraid to jerk away from him, she endured his enticing kiss and fierce embrace.
It had been such a long time since Gray Eagle had held her and kissed her in a similar way. Her senses reeled, partly from the champagne and partly from the physical need which he was awakening. As the kiss continued and deepened, she instinctively relaxed against him. She unknowingly slipped her arms around his narrow waist and helplessly returned the intoxicating kiss. Yearning and loneliness gave way to a warm response to him.
When he finally withdrew his lips from hers, Jeffery stared down at her, utterly perplexed by the meaning of her response. Witnessing the scarlet flush which stained her face and ivory bosom, he had his answer: she was not frigid or unreachable. She hastily lowered her long, thick lashes to conceal her look of shame. She fidgeted nervously at comprehending what he had just revealed to her. Frightened and confused by her actions and feelings, Alisha could not meet his steady gaze.
Realizing the folly of making an issue of her instinctive reaction to him, he lightheartedly teased, “That wasn’t so difficult, was it? This pretense shows great promise. No one will guess the truth. Get some sleep, Alisha,” he tenderly advised, pressing the key into her icy hand.
Her head jerked upwards; her wide eyes stared at him, hardly believing he was relenting this easily. “That’s all?” she asked incredulously.
“Contrary to your opinion of me, I can be trusted to keep my word. That’s all—for tonight. However, there will be many future practices until we get our act right and natural. By the time we return to Williamsburg, we’ll be so perfect around each other that no one will guess our pretense. I know I have certain legal rights as your husband, but I will not force them upon you.”
He placed a light kiss upon her forehead. “Goodnight, Alisha. Sleep well.”
“Goodnight…” she stammered, more confused and wary than ever. She lifted the bottom of her gown to climb up the steps. Not once did she glance back at Jeffery; there was no need to tempt him to break his word by allowing him to recognize her temporary, lustful weakness.
She went to her room and closed the door behind her. She almost reluctantly locked the door, dreading to irritate Jeffery with her mistrust. She began to undress, only to find she could not unfasten the long row of seemingly countless buttons down the back of her wedding gown.
She contorted her body this way and that. It was futile. She was forced to admit she could not remove it alone. She was tempted to lie down and to sleep in it. Mrs. Webster could help her out of it when she returned in the morning to clean up after the party. At once she deduced the error of that idea. There was only one thing she could do.
She lifted the key off of her dressing table and unlocked the door. She went to the head of the stairs and called down to Jeffery. He came out of his study and looked up at her. He wondered what he could say or do if she was about to offer some compromise in their sexual relationship. No matter how she felt about him, he had forced a physical response from her. Perhaps…
“Jeffery, I hate to disturb you,” she apologetically began, “but I cannot unbutton my gown. I thought it unwise to wait for Mrs. Webster in the morning. The gown is too exquisite to ruin with such carelessness. It would seem strange to Mrs. Webster, don’t you think? There are so many buttons and I cannot reach them all,” she said nervously, hating to ask Jeffery’s assistance. Alisha wasn’t certain if she feared his hot blood or hers. She only knew she did not want to tempt him beyond his endurance. It terrified her to think about undressing before a strange man, but especially Jeffery Gordon.
He headed up the steps toward her. He took her arm and led her back to her room. She did not notice his look of mingled relief and disappointment. The important thing was that he knew he could extract a heated, uncontrollable response from her, if he wanted to. He turned her around and began to deftly undo the numerous buttons.
Within a few moments, she felt a cool draft touch her flesh. She placed her hand on the bodice to prevent the gown from falling down. She turned and thanked him. He stared at her left shoulder. “Is something wrong?” she asked, noting his moody silence.
He touched the scar there and coldly demanded, “How did you get this scar? It was not there when I rescued you from the Sioux camp. Who dared to destroy such beauty?” Fury filled him as he imagined it to be the brutal work of his former foe Gray Eagle.
Reading the intense anger in his voice and expression, she feared not to answer honestly. “After Pau… Powchutu rescued me from the Sioux camp, we headed here. One day while we were stopped to eat, two white trappers attacked us. We fought with them. Powchutu was shot by one, and I… the other one grabbed me and tried to… tried to… I’m sure you know what he tried to do!” she snapped irrationally at him.
“Well, what happened?” he shouted impatiently.
“We fought! Powchutu killed one man and I…” She halted suddenly and went stark white. She shuddered, recalling the vivid truth for the first time since that fateful day. She had completely blocked his manner of death out of her mind.
She whirled and presented her semi-bare back to him. She hastily finished, “I was stabbed during the fight.”
Keenly aware of her sudden anguish, Jeffery stepped in front of her. “What else happened that day?” he sternly demanded.
She remained silent, tugging at her lower lip with her teeth. “Did he rape you before Powchutu could help you?”
She grimaced at what might have been the truth if she had not slain him. She trembled. She did not reply, simply shook her head in the negative. Impatient and curious, he seized her by her bare shoulders and shook her lightly. “What happened out there, woman?”
She stubbornly held her silence. How could she tell anyone what she had done that day? He shook her roughly this time and shouted tersely, “Damnit, Alisha! Tell me this instant!”
She glared at him for his angry insistence. “No!”
“I won’t leave this room until you do,” he threatened, hinting at the power he held over her. He grabbed her face beween his hands and forced her to look at him. “Tell me what happened! Something evidently did!”
There was a mixture of fear and anger in her eyes as she screamed at him, “I killed him! Satisfied, Jeffery? I killed him, so his friend stabbed me.”
Their gazes fused and locked. Hers was filled with torment; his filled with utter disbelief. “You couldn’t even squash a cicada!” he spat.
“I didn’t know what I was doing. I was… sick and feverish. I was terrified and desperate. He said they were both going to…” Horror filled her eyes. “I had to do it, Jeffery. He forced me to defend myself. Don’t you see? I had no choice,” she pleaded for his understanding and reassurance.
He wanted to take her into his arms and to comfort her. He knew what her reaction to him might be in her emotionally drained and distressed state of mind. He cursed his impotency and raged at the warrior’s arrow which had maimed him for life, making him only half a man. He dared not risk her helpless overture to him. She was in the palm of hi
s hand, and he could do nothing about it. Trapped and embittered, he took his hands from her face and verbally comforted her.
“Of course I understand. Scum like that deserves to die! If you hadn’t killed him, I would now be forced to search him out and to have him slain myself. There’s no way you could ever hurt anyone without just provocation. Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning. It appears you’ve been through more than I realized. We shouldn’t open old wounds. I’m sorry, love. You’re right; this should be kept between us. How much does Hiram know about you?” he abruptly inquired.
She sniffled to control her tears. She accepted the handkerchief which he handed to her. She quietly blew her nose and cleared her hoarse throat. She related the explanation which she had given to Hiram upon her arrival here. She also told Jeffery about her brief stay at Joe Kenny’s, but omitted the news of her miscarriage. By the time she finished her narrative, he had learned all he needed to know for the present.
Later, he vowed to know every single detail about her, from the moment of her arrival in this territory to the present day. On second thought, he resolved to know everything about her from birth until this moment. If there were any damaging secrets concerning her or her lineage, he wanted to know about it before taking her back to Virginia. If he did discover some unacceptable fact, then he would return home the grieving widower: still supplied with a reason for avoiding women. Alisha was very rare and valuable, but not as much as his pride and social position.
“That’s enough talking and crying for tonight, Mrs. Gordon. Off to bed with you,” he tenderly ordered.
When he left her room, he was mildly mystified and pleased by the noticeable silence of an unlocked door. He returned to his study for another, much needed, drink. Much later when he did head up to bed, he walked straight to her door to test his new theory. His hand reached out for the knob; he hesitated before quietly grasping it. It turned easily and silently. He slowly pushed the door open and peered around the edge.
The room was almost dark. Rays of moonlight filtered through Alisha’s window and played upon her bed. He went to stand beside it. She lay completely motionless. He gingerly lifted a heavy curl and moved it away from her face. She shifted slightly, but did not awaken. The soft moonlight glowed upon her angelic face, shadowing its angles and revealing flawless perfection. Long, dark lashes rested upon her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted.
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