War of Hearts, A Historical Romance

by Lynn Hubbard

  “Whoa! Where have you been? You are soaked to the skin.”

  “Yes, that happens when it rains,” she spat out before remembering she wanted him on her side.

  His rich chuckle reverberated against her chest and she realized he was still holding her. They were so close that when she looked up their mouths were only inches apart. She felt his warm breath on her face an instant before his lips dipped down and captured hers.

  Surprised, she hesitated a second before kissing him back. His kiss was hot and seemed to melt her to the core. She found herself clutching to his shoulders for support as her world spun.

  She hadn’t kissed many men in her lifetime, and the fact that one of them was his brother Robert was awkward to say the least. Reluctantly she had to pull away to catch her breath. He took full advantage, his mouth traveling down her neck.

  The dinner bell clanged from below, breaking the spell. “I need to change,” she explained, hastily turning and scurrying to her room. She shut the door and leaned against it for support. This was not the meeting she had expected to have with Tristan, however it may work to her advantage.

  She quickly stripped off the wet clothing and dried her body first, and then her hair. Needing comfort, she opened the trunk and pulled out her dress. The one her mother sewed for her. Clutching it to her chest, she prayed for guidance, wisdom, and strength. She dressed and twisted the still damp hair up into a bun.

  There was a chill in the air so she grabbed a shawl from the trunk, wrapped it around her shoulders, and headed down to dinner. She greeted the men as she entered, and hungrily dug into the hot soup.

  “So glad you could make it!” the Colonel exclaimed heartily. “You can share in the good news.”

  Sarah forced a smile; she somehow doubted that her idea of good news would match the Colonels.

  “We are having a Ball. In a fortnight, this house will be filled with the King’s elite. There will be dancing, music, and the finest food and beverage in all of the Colonies.”

  “A Ball? I’m not sure a ball is appropriate in these trying times,” Sarah replied, appalled.

  “Nonsense! That is exactly why we need a dance! To lift everyone’s spirits and to remind them what we are fighting for.”

  She glanced over at Tristan for help, but he just shrugged. Anger filled her being. Men were being slaughtered, on both sides, and here they were worried about a party.

  “Of course, it is your home. However, please do not look for me to attend. I still mourn for my family,” Sarah replied, pushing back her chair and leaving the table. It would not be the first meal she had missed, or her last.

  Tears were stinging her eyes as she reached her door. This was not how she had planned out her day. She should have just agreed to the damn ball and been done with it. What compelled her to voice her true thoughts she did not know.

  She was turning out to be an awful spy, after all a room full of drunken officials would be the perfect way to gather news. Of course she had a different mission now. One she had to fulfill for her own reasons.

  Moving to the hearth, she knelt to build a fire. She stacked in straw and twigs, then grasped the flint rocks and began striking them together. The spark caught quickly and she nursed the small flame into a larger one.

  Fire starting had become one of her specialties while in the army. She had mastered them in the worst conditions. Silas had taught her well. Staring into the flame, she could almost picture him. The orange flames mimicked his hair perfectly.

  She jumped at the knock on the door. Not wanting to answer, she stayed silent. To her annoyance, a key jangled in the lock and Tristan appeared with a tray laden with food. Setting it on the bedside table, he received a glare for his effort.

  “Hungry?” he asked with an apologetic smile. “If the ball is that upsetting to you…”

  Sarah stood and walked over to him, her head barely came to his shoulder. However, the strength in her stance spoke volumes. “What is wrong with you?”

  His smile faded. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  Sarah hesitated; how much should she tell him? How much could she tell him? Her decision made here not only affected her life but possibly hundreds of others.

  “You. You have no passion, you are like a leaf floating along the stream, trying not to make waves.”

  He laughed. “I have been called many things in my life, but never a leaf. And as far as passion,” Sarah gasped as he once again pulled her to his chest, “I have more passion, than you can imagine.”

  Their lips again met and Sarah cursed herself for her weakness. She so wanted to give in, to escape the pain of life for a while. His strong arms wrapped around her and she allowed herself this brief respite.

  Lifting up her arms, she wrapped them around his neck and pulled him closer. A yearning developed deep inside her; it felt so good to be held, to not have to be strong for once, to just exist.

  Her mind barely registered when his hands moved to undo her dress. His mouth moved down her throat, to her chest and left her trembling with need. The edge of the bedstead hit the back of her knees and she toppled backward. She gasped in surprise and his mouth once again covered hers, muffling her concerns.

  Her breathing quickened as his large frame covered her. A chill seeped into the room from the window and for the first time she realized she was laying bare. When had her gown been tossed aside? Her mind was dull, her passion taking over. She pulled at his clothing, wanting…no…needing to feel him against her.

  She was not ignorant to men’s needs. Being surrounded by rough men taught her that. However, she was not prepared when she felt his length against her thigh. Her eyes flew open in a panic, her awareness returned. Just how far was she willing to go to gain his allegiance? Or was this purely to sate her own needs? To fill the emptiness inside of her?

  Still unsure of the answer, she spread her legs and welcomed him in. The deed was a bit more cumbersome than she expected and she held her breath as he thrust deeply. She winced from the burning sensation, a small price to pay for freedom. She bit his shoulder to keep from crying out as her hands instinctively clawed at his back.

  One more lunge and he was fully encased within her folds. She felt a heart pounding against her breasts and was captivated that it was his. He was so strong, so commanding that she felt miniscule beneath him as he continued his wondrous onslaught.

  He grunted, grinding his hips against her pelvis. Shocks of electricity traveled through her and she shifted her hips trying to reproduce the effect. Tristan chuckled in her ear, kissing her neck before again finding her mouth.

  His tongue darted out and teased into her mouth, duplicating the action below. Sarah was lost in emotion. She clung desperately to him, trusting him. She barely registered his tempo increasing or his soft pants as he collapsed upon her.

  He emitted a groan before rolling over and covering his face with his arm while he caught his breath. With his heat removed her nakedness was a stark reminder of her sin. Sarah clutched the bedspread and wrapped it around herself to use as a shield against the world.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to collect her thoughts. She wasn’t sure what to say, she wasn’t even sure she could speak. Unable to help herself, she broke into sobs. What or whom she was crying for, she wasn’t sure. She was overloaded with emotions and needed a release.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. She had almost forgotten Tristan. She reluctantly turned to look into his concerned face.

  “I’ve been with a lot of women, but you are the first I have driven to tears. Are you alright?”

  Sarah let out an unladylike snort. “Well, at least I’m the first for something.”

  Understanding slowly dawned on his face. “You’ve never? I mean, I just assumed…”

  She shrugged it off. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Well of course it matters, if I had known…”

  “I’m fine. I’ve never been more fine.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes
.

  “I’m sorry, I…”

  Sarah turned to face him fully. “No. It is I who am sorry. I need to tell you something. Something important, but I’m afraid.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would you be afraid of me?”

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you. And I owe you that. Your brother Robert is alive.”

  Confusion spread across his handsome face. “Robert? You know my brother?”

  “Yes, I worked with him for over a year. I’m a nurse,” she added proudly.

  “You must be mistaken. Robert joined the Continental Army,” he said, sitting up straighter.

  She smiled sadly. “I know.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you do.”

  “You’re a traitor too?” he asked with bitterness in his voice.

  “I prefer the term patriot. This is my country. How can you just sit by and watch it torn asunder and not do anything?”

  “I do not stand idly by. I risk my life transporting goods in service to the King.”

  She snorted. “Oh yes, bringing toiletries to the loyalist is quite an effort. To think your brother is half dead from starvation while these pigs gorge themselves daily.”

  “Robert is ill?”

  “Robert is as well as anyone in camp. He would rather die than to beg for scraps from the King’s table. He toiles daily trying to make a difference, trying to keep men alive, and I admire him.”

  Robert had always been the good son; his running off had been the only shocking thing he had done in his life. Now here was Sarah, spouting him praise. It was too much, and he lashed out bitterly. “Did you lay with him too?”

  “Only by the grace of God have I remained pure until tonight. My father thought like you do, he was a peaceful man. Do you know what peace gets you? Dead,” she replied, answering herself. “I can still smell the smoke from when the soldiers came. Their uniforms were the color of blood. They killed my father first, ran him through with a bayonet. Didn’t wanna waste a shot. Then they went after my mother & me. She died trying to save me. Only my brother and I lived. He was hell bent on joining the army, and I followed him.”

  “You said Silas was dead.”

  Sarah sighed. “Yes, he fell at Princeton.”

  “And you stayed with the Rebels?”

  “I had no one else. And, and they needed me. My country needed me.”

  “I don’t understand, what about your aunt? Why didn’t you and your brother come to New York to live?”

  “I don’t have an Aunt Margaret; it was a rouse to get me into the city. Robert was dead set against me coming, but he said I should contact you if I should ever need help.”

  Tristan shook his golden head. “So you came here to what? Spy?”

  “Yes, but I’m not very good at it.”

  “I’ll say, I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be telling people.”

  “Well it is all moot now. I have another purpose. Do you know Gabriel’s brother, Jonathan?”

  Tristan frowned. “Of course. Why, is he a spy too?”

  “No, he’s a prisoner on board the Kitty.”

  Tristan frowned. “How do you know that? Gabriel hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

  “Why would he? You’re a bloody Tory,” Sarah retorted.

  “Why did he tell you?”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure I should say.”

  Tristan shook his head. “It’s a little late to be wondering if I’m trust worthy.”

  Sarah lifted her head high and stared into his eyes. “I would gladly risk my own life, it is the others’ lives I will not risk.”

  “This is the oddest after romp exchange I have ever had,” Tristan murmured, falling back on the bed. “Are you planning on killing me while I sleep?”

  “No, do you plan on hanging me as a spy?”

  “No,” Tristan said, grabbing her and pulling her under the sheets next to him. He tucked her in with her back to his chest and held her in place with his arms.

  “Enough talk,”

  Sarah frowned but soon found her eyelids drooping; it had been a long day.

  Chapter 14 An Agreement

  Breakfast was a very odd affair. Sarah had woken to a burned out fire and empty bed. Her stomach rumbled, so she washed and dressed, half expecting to see the hangman waiting for her as she descended the stairs.

  Last night seemed more like a dream than reality. If she were not so sore, it would have been a compelling case. Tristan and the Colonel were at the table and she greeted them, accepting her poached egg from Cecilia.

  “Did you sleep well?” the Colonel asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  Sarah glanced across at Tristan, whom was trying to hide a grin.

  She assumed that Tristan did not reveal her indiscretion. Does that mean he would help her? Not turning her in was one thing, aiding her was a different matter.

  “Yes, thank you for asking. I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. My heart is still heavy, but perhaps a dance is exactly what I need.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  Ryan hustled in a second later, slightly disheveled. “News my Lord,” he held out a crumpled bit of parchment. The Colonel wiped his mouth and hands on a napkin before accepting it.

  He glanced at the letter and frowned, studying it. “My pardons, I need to go, Washington just took Monmouth in New Jersey.”

  Sarah feigned shock and took a sip of juice to hide her smile. She looked over to find Tristan watching her curiously.

  “Thought they were half dead,” he murmured quietly.

  “Nothing gives you more strength or courage than believing in a cause. What do you believe in?” she retorted.

  Tristan was silent as Cecilia appeared to clear the table. He stood and went to assist Sarah from her seat. Taking her arm he led her out the back door. Once they were in the garden he spoke.

  “Do you know what a dangerous game you are playing?”

  “This is not a game, I am not a child,” she spat out, wrenching free from his grasp.

  “You cannot expect to complete your task on your own. You will need help.”

  “Will you help me?”

  Tristan shook his head, his hair glinting like gold in the sunlight. “Do you know what you are asking?”

  “I am asking you to make a choice. To choose sides, to make a stand. I don’t believe you are holding out for the higher bidder. And you don’t seem like a man to choose the easy path.”

  Tristan sighed, looking away from her determined eyes. “What do you need?”

  “I need a ship.”

  “And what do I receive in return?”

  Sarah reached into her pocket and pulled out her coin pouch. “It is all I have.”

  “I ask not for money,” he said pulling her closer. He ran his thumb along her jaw line, lifting her face up to his. She closed her eyes as his meaning sunk in. She would willing give her life, was her body that much different?

  After all, she readily gave herself to him the night before; of course that was more so for her benefit. Would giving more be too much to ask for his allegiance?

  Opening her eyes she looked into his. He waited for her answer. If he were willing to help her save her men, she would give him anything he asked.

  “My answer is yes. My brother gave his life for the cause, you ask for so little.”

  For some reason her answer greatly disturbed him. He had never had to beg a woman into his bed before. Hell, most he had to beg to leave.

  Why couldn’t he offer his ship freely? He was already committing treason just by not reporting her. But no, something about her made him feel. She was so passionate about her damn army that it intrigued him. He couldn’t imagine mustering up any feelings for his British neighbors. In fact, they disgusted him.

  If she needed a ship, than she shall have one. After all, he had many more.

  “Tonight then, come to me,” he whispered. He bent down capturing her lips in his. He was a bi
t disappointed when she did not kiss him back. He looked at her questioningly as she pulled away.

  “You asked for my body, not my heart,” she replied, walking off to visit Molly.

  Tristan turned to find Major Johnson watching him with a scowl. “Did you need something major?”

  “I was looking for the Colonel.”

  “I’m sure you can find him at headquarters with everyone else,” he replied sarcastically, sweeping his arm to emphasize the troops hurrying past in the same direction.

  “And I wanted to make sure Miss Smith was not frightened from the news,” Randall added.

  “Very thoughtful of you, but rest assured I have consoled Miss Smith in your stead.”

  “I see, which is why she is seeking out companionship from her horse. Just to let you know, Sir Clinton is returning to the city with his troops. I will be boarding with you.”

  Tristan smiled broadly. “Perfect! You can sleep in Ryan’s room. He never uses it.” He patted him on the shoulder and turned and walked away.

  Chapter 15 The Vixen

  Sarah was in a glorious mood as she headed to the park to meet Gabriel. She had a ship, now all she needed was a plan. Molly matched her disposition and clopped smoothly along the road.

  There was more traffic on the road today; men were scurrying around like rats. Thoughts of Tristan crept into her head and she hastily pushed them away.

  Arriving at the ruins, she tied Molly to a post and headed up a tattered path. Patches of scorched earth dotted the ground and she lifted her skirt as she walked so it would not get sullied.

  Reaching the burned out house, she carefully picked her way through the rubble to the back. A man stood there and stopped short. She had to look twice before she recognized him as Gabriel. The usually dapper captain was dressed in filthy dungarees, tattered shirt, and dropping hat. He would have made a brilliant spy.

  “Any news?” he whispered hastily.

  “Why yes, the Colonel is throwing a ball, and Tristan offered his ship.”

  Gabriel’s eyebrow rose. “He offered it? Just like that?” he asked suspiciously.

  Sarah shrugged, looking away. “We bartered for it.”