Moonlight Rebel

by Ferrarella, Marie

  "Perhaps," Krystyna agreed.

  But, in her heart, she was afraid.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Morgan took his meals in his room rather than join the British officers seated at his table. Jeremiah brought the trays to him, along with reports of what was going on. Morgan knew that he was helpless to deny food and shelter to soldiers of the Crown, but he felt that his refusal to break bread with the enemy would at least make his displeasure and opposition sufficiently evident.

  Aaron presided at the table in his father's stead. He had never known such a feeling of well-being before. He was consulted as the master of the house and received preferential treatment from the officers. In his glory, he was acting the part of an obedient loyalist. And he was wholly ignorant of Wallace's true purpose in quartering at Smoke Tree.

  Sin-Jin was not. He approached his commanding officer in the study, pointing out that the political leanings of the family could largely be considered loyalist. He hoped to talk the general out of what he believed was on the man's mind.

  General Wallace, a lifelong soldier in His Majesty's Service, looked at the young man coldly over the rim of his glass of sherry. Lawrence was hopelessly tiresome and woefully idealistic for Wallace's taste.

  "My dear Lieutenant Lawrence, do you really think that with the Rutherford Plantation to the north of us, a household comprised entirely of British sympathizers, we are staying here to regroup our forces by mere happenstance? Morgan McKinley, our absent 'host,' is an outspoken leader

  of Virginia society. While we are replenishing our supplies, we shall also put the fear of God into him, thwarting any plans he might have of aiding and abetting the enemy. As it were," Wallace toyed with the glass, regretting that there was so little of the sherry left, and yearning for his own supply at home, "the Reverend Peregrine Blake has paid me a visit only today. He offered quite an interesting revelation about young McKinley."

  "Aaron?"

  "Jason," Wallace corrected. The general raised his eyes to Sin-Jin.

  His smile was as evil as any Sin-Jin had ever seen. He felt his stomach tighten. When the hostilities had erupted, Sin-Jin hadn't committed his emotions to a side. But now, ever so slowly, he found his sympathies turning to the Colonists. Freedom had a tantalizing flavor to it, especially when its enemy had men such as Wallace as leaders.

  At the table that morning Sin-Jin felt Savannah's eyes on him. Whenever he turned around in the house, she seemed to be there, watching him. He wasn't unaware of the way she looked at him, nor was he oblivious to her attributes. She was rather beautiful. But while he found her company pleasant, it was Krystyna whom he sought out.

  "My offer is still open," he told her quietly. He had taken the seat next to her, though there had been one at Savannah's right.

  "Excuse me?" His words had intruded on Krystyna's thoughts of Jason. He had been gone too long, yet she feared his return. What if his newfound patriotism caused him to act rashly when he found the house taken over by soldiers? She couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to him.

  What is she thinking? Sin-Jin wondered. Could there ever be room in her mind for me? In her heart? "About paying your passage back home," Sin-Jin reminded her. "I owe you a great debt, and I need to rid myself of that. A debt is a terrible thing to have hanging over one's head." He took advantage of the situation and brought her hand to his lips. "Even a debt to so charming a lady as you."

  From the corner of her eye, Krystyna could see that Savannah was fuming. She couldn't suppress the smile that rose to her lips. "Your debt, John, will be repaid if you do not harm anyone here," she told him softly. Gently, she withdrew her hand and placed it on her lap.

  Aaron was surprised by Krystyna's remark. Did she really fear the soldiers? He did not. They were among their own here. Certainly they thought of his father as a disgruntled, harmless old man and would leave the plantation unmolested. These were gentlemen they were dealing with, not the ruffians Washington had brought with him.

  Wallace had overheard Krystyna's comment as well. "Countess," he said with a polite nod, "no harm is to come to any of you."

  He looks like an old fox, Krystyna thought. She neither liked nor trusted the general, for she knew he would take what he needed —worse, what he wanted —and they would be defenseless against him. Their only hope was John.

  Sin-Jin thought he read concern in her eyes as she turned toward him. The concern he saw went deeper than the household, and he wondered about its cause.

  His speculation abruptly ended as he heard a hearty voice boom, "I see I am just in time." Winthrop carelessly thrust his cloak toward the nearest house servant.

  "You seem to smell food from a great distance away," Aaron noted as the other man seated himself next to Savannah. Loyalist or no, Aaron actively disliked his sister's betrothed.

  Even Savannah now shared the opinion held by the other members of her household. She glared at Winthrop with considerable annoyance as he helped himself to the generous spread on the table. Eagerly, he heaped slices of ham upon a plate already overloaded with eggs, potatoes, and muffins.

  Until Sin-Jin had arrived, Savannah had been unhappy but resigned to her choice of a marriage partner. Now she found herself loathing Winthrop and falling in love with Sin-Jin. The young officer had both charm and grace, whereas Winthrop reminded her of a hideous illustration of Bacchus she had once seen in a book.

  "What brings you here so early, Mr. Rutherford?" Lucinda asked politely, to cover her husband's obvious displeasure. No one else had spoken a word of greeting to Winthrop.

  He looked up from his plate and roughly laid a paw on Savannah before returning to his fare. "I promised to spend the day with Savannah."

  Savannah felt something sticky on her skin and looked down to see a tiny bit of jam on her hand. Pig, she thought as she wiped it off. "I don't recall agreeing to anything," she said frostily.

  "Of course you did." He smiled at her tolerantly, a glob of butter oozing down his chin. Then he turned his attention momentarily to Sin-Jin. "You know, it's a very good thing you're here. I worry about my future bride being properly protected in these times, what with those heathen rebels about." He shrugged, spearing another slice of ham. "Of course, now that Jason has made up his mind to be on the side of those hellions, Lord knows what will come to pass."

  The general raised his eyes, mildly interested. "Ah, yes, McKinley's younger son. Just where is he?" Wallace smiled to himself. What fools these Colonials were. He was well acquainted with the comings and goings of all the household members. He knew all he needed to know. Still, he was curious to hear what the slothful son of Elliot Rutherford had to say.

  Winthrop shrugged, more interested in the hot biscuits Jeremiah had just brought in than in Jason's whereabouts. "I have no idea. Savannah, where is that womanizing brother of yours these days?"

  Savannah gave him a withering look. However much they might disagree in private, to strangers they were a family, a united front. She wouldn't endanger her brother's life for the world. "He's away on a trip." The words fell casually from her lips.

  "What sort of a trip, miss?" The general delicately wiped his mouth. There was nothing delicate about the look in his eyes.

  Aaron quickly intervened. He had no idea where Jason had been sent, but suddenly felt that attention had to be shifted away from his brother. "With my brother," Aaron signaled to Jeremiah to refill the general's glass, "I'm afraid one never knows. Like as not, he is with some woman now. His comings and goings are of no import." It troubled him that the general looked unconvinced.

  Sin-Jin looked at Krystyna, wondering what she thought of this kind of talk. He had already decided that Jason was the reason he hadn't been able to win her over. She was attached to the man. Or in love with him.

  And he could tell by the look in her eyes that the conversation at the table rang false.

  Glass in hand, the general leaned forward, toward Aaron. "I hope, sir, for your brother's sake, that you are correct
in your speculation. It would be wise, however, if you spoke to him and to your father about the matter of favoring the rebels, cause." The look he fixed on Aaron was bitterly cold. "You do realize, of course, that I can at any time seize your plantation due to the fact that it is mortgaged against future crops that may, quite suddenly," the coldness in his smile spread, "fail to materialize." Beams of light entered his glass, casting rainbows on the white tablecloth. Wallace traced the pattern with his fingertip. "The Crown allows me to use my judgment as to when these 'natural catastrophes' might occur."

  Aaron looked at the general as if the man had suddenly turned into a two-headed beast. The plantation meant a great deal to him. It represented who he was. His indignation took on large proportions. "I keep the books for this plantation, sir, and there are no such debts on record. We pay for everything we need as we need it."

  Simpleton, the general thought. "Things can be arranged, Mr. McKinley. Debts are only things written down on paper, and papers are not that hard to come by. We still have jurisdiction over you, you will remember," he said calmly.

  Aaron felt the bitter taste of suppressed anger fill his mouth and his soul. The general had said the one thing that could turn Aaron against the British, and in that instant, Aaron fell in with the Americans.

  Lucinda watched her husband's face and saw the change come over him. The words he uttered next were soft, but she knew that the general had lost.

  "I shall certainly remember that, General."

  "Fine." The general resumed drinking. "As long as we all understand each other."

  "Perfectly," Aaron answered, his jaw set firmly. Lucinda reached for his hand.

  "Damn stupid of you, Aaron, mortgaging the plantation," Winthrop mumbled, his mouth full of potatoes.

  "Oh, do shut up, Winthrop!" Savannah snapped, rising from the table. Sin-Jin rose in his seat as she took her leave. Angry though she was, she didn't miss her opportunity to smile at him before she left the room.

  After lunch, Winthrop seemed to dog her every step. Savannah flounced down angrily on the parlor sofa, staring at the closed door that separated the parlor from the study. Sin-Jin was there, locked away with his general. She wished herself on the other side of the door and the general out with Winthrop.

  "Oh, all right," she threw up her hands irritably. "If I go for a ride with you, will you leave me in peace once we return?"

  "Yes, yes, of course," he promised. His eyes scanned her intimately. "I understand, if you're not feeling well."

  Savannah thought she understood what he meant, and her skin crawled that he should be so forward with her. Intimacy had no place between them. She only offered him her cheek and her hand to kiss. Only once had his beefy lips brushed hers. Why am I going through with this madness? she asked herself.

  She looked at Winthrop and made up her mind. She couldn't. She had to break off the engagement. Title or no title, she couldn't tie herself for all eternity to this pompous ass. No court in the world could he worth lying under that man even once a year. She wasn't like Charity. The thought of having lovers on the side was odious to her. At the very least, it was too risky. And she wanted romance. Was that so terribly wrong?

  "I shall be ready in half an hour," she told him. I will tell him while we're riding, she thought, eager to have done with it.

  "Fine, fine, I'll be waiting here."

  But not for long, Savannah thought as she hurried away. There was a lightness to her step.

  Chapter Thirty

  For the most part, they rode in silence. The country was a beautiful shade of green, nature at its finest. But Savannah's mind was elsewhere. Sin-Jin had left the house to go riding by the time she had finished changing. If only she could have gone with him instead of with this lump of a creature at her side. The sooner she was rid of him, the better.

  With her thoughts preoccupied, Savannah didn't realize that Winthrop was leading her toward the tobacco storage silos. He had discovered them one day during a rainstorm. Having taken shelter in one of the cavernous structures, and rather than wonder at its empty state when the McKinley plantation was so prosperous, Winthrop had seen his find only as fortuitous. He had made up his mind there and then to bring Savannah to the silo. He was tired of supplicating, tired of the way she treated him. It was time he collected his due.

  When he stopped the horses near the large structure, Savannah took the opportunity to say, "We really must talk, you and I."

  "That's fine with me, dear." Soon, he promised himself. Soon. Lust grew, spreading swiftly through his loins. "An engaged couple should do many things together. And you have been so terribly distant with me," he chided, looking at her with what she called "puppy-dog eyes." Savannah detested puppy-dog eyes.

  Winthrop leaned over and took her reins from her. "Why don't we dismount for a bit?"

  She looked at him in surprise, then shrugged. This was as good a place as any, she supposed. Although breaking an engagement should be done in a more dramatic setting, she was anxious to have it over with.

  He dismounted, panting as his weight hit the ground. With pudgy hands, he grasped her waist and helped her from her horse. His warm breath, coming in puffs, assaulted her face.

  Savannah's stomach turned. "You can let me go now," she told him impatiently when his hands remained where they were.

  "Oh, only a moment longer," he coaxed. "It's so seldom I get a chance to touch you."

  Disgust welled up within her, but she tried to keep it from her voice. "I haven't given you permission," she pointed out disdainfully. Annoyed at the liberties he was taking, she pulled away and walked toward the silo. She didn't see the suppressed rage on Winthrop's face as he followed.

  Savannah turned and looked at him. It had to be done, before he gave himself any other ideas. "Winthrop, much as it grieves me," and relieves me, she added silently, "I am afraid I must end our relationship."

  He looked at her, aghast. He hadn't expected her to say anything of the sort. His vanity assured him that she would be his for the taking if only he was persuasive enough. "What?"

  He sounds like a bleating sheep, she thought. "I'm afraid I no longer wish to be engaged to you," she informed him loftily.

  "I thought you understood about the incident with those soldiers—"

  The lacy gloved hand sliced the air as she waved it impatiently. "It isn't the soldiers, Winthrop." Her desire for the proper effect gave way to irritation again. "Goodness, but you are tiresome."

  His fleshy cheeks reddened. "Tiresome, am I?" He took a step toward her. "And I suppose that young lieutenant isn't?"

  "I don't know what you are talking about." Haughtily, Savannah turned her back on him.

  Grasping her shoulder roughly, Winthrop spun her around. Months of acting the lackey finally caused him to explode. "Don't play the grand duchess with me, you slut! I've seen the way you look at him, like some cheap, hungry little whore."

  Enraged, Savannah slapped Winthrop's face. "How dare you!" she shrieked.

  The tide of lust overpowered him. Pinning her arms to her sides, Winthrop covered her neck and face with open-mouth kisses that made her cringe in revulsion.

  "Let me go, you animal!" Jerking back, Savannah managed to pull free. Then her anger gave way to fear, and she ran into the silo.

  The interior of the structure was wide and open. Less than half the usual amount of tobacco was stored in it. Savannah hid behind one of the tall, secured bales, trembling. She could hear Winthrop panting behind her. Fear smothered her like a heavy, wet blanket. No one knew where she was, and Winthrop looked like a man possessed. What was to become of her?

  "No one's going to help you now, you little blue-nosed whore. You think I haven't known that you were leading me on? Do you think I'm so stupid I didn't know it was my family ties and not me you were marrying?" He shoved aside one mound of tied tobacco leaves and searched behind the next, his lust and his anger growing. "But I didn't care. I wanted you anyway. Savannah McKinley, the most beautiful woman in th
e county. And 111 have you, because when I get through with you, no one is going to want to marry you but me." His voice echoed ominously in the huge structure. His patience was at an end. "Damn it, where are you?"

  Suddenly, as he pushed aside the last bale, he found her. Savannah shrieked and turned to run, but he stepped on the hem of her skirt, trapping her.

  "Let me go!" she cried, fighting to keep fear out of her voice. "My father will make you pay for this!"

  "Not before I've claimed what is my due" he declared, grabbing her wrist.

  Savannah looked around frantically, trying desperately to pull herself free. But the more she tugged, the tighter his ham like hand held onto her.

  "No, not this time. This time that pretty little flesh of yours will be mine." Roughly, he began to stroke her. Because she resisted, he caught her bodice and yanked it down ripping it apart. Her chemise was exposed, the tight stays of her corset pushing her breasts up invitingly.

  She saw the naked lust in his eyes. "No, no, please," she begged. "Don't do this, Winthrop. Please, please." She was crying and shaking.

  He didn't hear her. Driven by his own lust, Winthrop could neither see nor think of anything except getting his satisfaction. His revenge. She had taunted him, rejected him, until finally he couldn't take it anymore. He was tired of being the butt of jokes, tired of being looked down on by the members of her family. And tired of lusting after her to no avail.

  Savannah struggled and pushed, but she couldn't break free of his hold as his wet mouth covered her flesh and his hands groped her body with a familiarity that brought tears to her eyes. She fell backward against a bale. He pinned her down with his weight, then straddled her. A fat thigh on either side of her trembling body kept her in place.

  "Now, let me see the rest of you, Savannah." His eyes glowed at the prospect. "You'd be willing to show all to the fine young lieutenant, were he here."

  Before she could say anything, he tore away the remainder of her chemise, and Savannah began screaming hysterically, her large, bare breasts heaving. It only served to arouse him more.