Fear and Honor
Page 9
“That's what makes you such a great leader,” I said. “The people know that you're willing to risk it all too, that's why they trust you to lead.”
He gave me a strange look, and I suddenly remembered that even though he'd been appointed the commander of the Continental Army, he hadn't been particularly popular, especially this early in the war. Despite becoming the first president, he'd been a soldier more than a politician.
“Is that so?” His gaze was searching as he stood.
I could have blown it off, made some sort of excuse for what I'd said, but I didn't know what that would do to history. Besides, how would someone tell George Washington that they hadn't meant to say that people would trust him to lead?
“Yes, Sir.” I met his eyes. “You have so many great things in your future.”
The silence between us held for several long seconds before he broke it. “Your horse has been fed and watered.” He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to me. “Here is your pass. Be careful.”
I took the paper and tucked it into the front of my dress. “Thank you, General.”
He smiled again. “I truly hope your husband knows how fortunate he is to have a wife who loves him as you do.”
I hoped so too.
Chapter 13
Even though I'd reminded myself half a dozen times that the ship wasn't set to sail for another thirteen hours, I wanted to push my horse to the limit. Only the knowledge that it'd harm the animal kept me in check. I’d certainly taken modern transportation for granted. Need to be halfway across the country by this afternoon? Here’s a plane ticket to get you there in time for dinner, no problem. Want to go from Philadelphia to New York City? Less than three hours unless traffic was a real bitch. The distance I had to travel now would've been an hour with a Mazda at my disposal.
When I finally reached the settlement boarding the dock, my nerves were stretched taut, frayed by the hours on horseback spent worrying about what I would do if I didn't reach him in time. I stopped at the edge of the crowd, taking advantage of being higher than the throngs of sailors teeming about to scan the crowd for Gracen. He could've been inside for all I knew, but I had to start somewhere.
I skimmed over the men with the wrong color hair, eyes flicking across features and builds, immediately dismissing those who didn't fit. I knew his body well enough to know just by the way men moved that they weren't him.
Then I saw him, and my breath caught in my throat. He was assisting a line of men in loading supplies onto a wagon that was headed to the ship, his back to me. I stayed where I was, watching him. Sweat drenched his loose-fitting shirt, darkened his wild waves. He looked like he was so busy, I wondered if he’d been thinking of me half as much as I’d been thinking of him, and the thought that he hadn't made my heart clench painfully.
It was that need to know that got me off the horse. I tossed the reins over the closest post, barely paying enough attention to make sure the horse wouldn't get loose.
I pushed my way through the crowd, making it within a couple feet before Gracen looked up and noticed me. He stopped working as our eyes locked. Without looking away, he said a quick word to one of the men near him, then closed the distance between us in a few long strides.
I'd expected him to hesitate, but he pulled me straight into his arms, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
“I’m sorry,” I said, the words muffled against his chest. “I should've been clearer about my past.”
Gracen leaned back, already shaking his head. “You have no need to be sorry, darling. I had no right to say any of those things. You have more integrity and honor than any person I have ever known, and I was wrong to have judged you by a standard held two hundred years before you were born. Especially when I applied it to you and not myself.” He cupped my face, brushing his thumbs against the corners of my mouth. “Forgive me, my love. I hated the thought of any other man having had you.”
His mouth brushed across mine, then came down more firmly, tongue teasing the seam of my mouth for a moment before sliding between my lips. He kissed me slowly, deeply, not caring who saw or what he was supposed to have been doing. He showed me without additional words how sorry he was for what happened between us, and I responded in kind, letting him know that he was forgiven.
“I came as soon as I could,” I told him when I could breathe again. I stroked his cheek with my fingers, the pain I’d felt during his absence somehow turning more acute now that I could touch him...and knew he was supposed to be leaving with the morning tide.
“You're here now. That is all that matters.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.
“Let me come with you,” I said as I smoothed my hands up and down his back. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go. We were supposed to do this together. How can we do that if you’re across the ocean?”
“No.”
The word was harsh, and I stiffened, tried to take a step back. His embrace tightened, keeping me in place.
“Not for the reasons I know you are thinking.” His tone softened. “I could never live with myself if something happened to you. I know that you can handle yourself, but I do not think I can concentrate on what I need to do if I don’t know you are here, as safe as you can be.” He buried his face in my hair, taking a deep breath. “I cannot do it. I need you here though Washington needs me elsewhere.”
I wanted to argue with him, tell him that the safest and best place for me to be was at his side, but I knew this wasn't the time or the place to have that talk. We didn't have a lot of time, but we had some.
“Come with me,” he said quietly as he laced his fingers between mine.
I let him lead me through the people, past the sailors and the merchants, past his horse as he tossed a coin to a nearby boy and gave instructions to take it to the stable where his other horse was. All this I barely registered, so focused was I on the solid feel of his hand in mine. I didn't realize that we were at an inn until he took me past the tables on the main floor to the stairs.
“I was fortunate they had a room,” he said as he opened a door to a room barely half the size of the one we'd shared back at the Lightwood estate.
“Why didn't you just stay with the soldiers?” I asked.
“If I'm to play the part of a Loyalist so I can gather information for Washington, the last place anyone should see me is with the Continental Army.”
I hadn't thought of that. It made sense now why Washington hadn't offered to send a soldier with me. I hadn't really given it much thought at the time, but now I realized it was strange that he'd been okay with me traveling on my own.
Gracen leaned down and nuzzled the spot under my ear as his fingers started pulling at my dress. “And I am even more grateful now to have a private room.”
So was I.
I needed him. Needed to feel him touching me, inside me.
Suddenly, I was glad that I hadn't put on all those layers because my dress was sliding off and his hands were pulling up my shift, palms hot on my bare skin. I yanked his shirt over his head, our limbs tangling as he tried to rid me of the last of my clothing. The tension between us shifted as we fell onto the bed, mouths and hands desperate, urgent.
His knee slid between mine as he leaned down to flick his tongue across the tip of my nipple. I ran my hands down his back and tried to forget that it would be months before I'd feel his body above mine. He was here with me now, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
“Touch me,” I murmured against his mouth. “Please, Gracen. Touch me.”
His eyes darkened as his hand moved between us, fingers slipping over my clit. I moaned, arching up into his touch.
“I love when you do that.” His voice was low, rough. “I love that I can make you do that.”
“More.” I grabbed at his arms, nails digging into his skin. “More.”
He smiled that slow, seductive smile that made my insides go all gooey...then he pushed two fingers inside me.
r /> I cried out, my eyes rolling back in my head at the little spark of pain that came with the pleasure of being stretched. I wasn't into the hardcore S&M kind of stuff like spanking, but a little rough edge to things...damn it felt good. I knew Gracen had been holding back, even when I'd told him that I wanted him harder or faster, but what happened between us recently had loosened something.
“Make me come,” I begged. “Please, Gracen.”
He sucked hard on my nipple, using his teeth on the sensitive skin as he drove his fingers into me until I came apart in his arms. I expected to feel him sliding into me, but instead, he moved down my body, settling between my legs.
“Fuck!” I couldn't stop myself from shouting as he gave me a long, slow lick.
If I'd known he planned on going down on me, I would've told him not to, not before I'd had the chance to bathe. But he didn't seem to mind, and as he used his thumbs to open me to his questing tongue, I forgot why I was supposed to care.
I writhed against his mouth, whimpering as he teased me. He was taking his time, exploring every inch of me, and I lost track of where we were and what awaited us. My world was sensation and sound. My own moans and the soft murmurs of inaudible words against my flesh. The rough quilt beneath my back. His silky hair between my fingers.
And the incredible, white-hot pleasure of an impossible, never-ending orgasm.
When he finally buried himself inside me with one smooth thrust, every cell in my body felt electrified. Each stroke sent me further and higher, racing with Gracen toward the inevitable end. It was hearing my name on his lips when he finally reached his climax that sent me tipping over the edge to mine.
I watched Gracen from between half-open lids as he propped himself up on one elbow, stroking my temple with his fingertips. I couldn't bring myself to risk looking at him fully, not while I could feel the moisture burning to escape. He was being far more honorable than myself, going where he was needed, even if it meant giving up what he wanted. I knew it was selfish to not want him to go, but I didn’t care. I’d been so prepared to fight together, and now I felt alone in a world and space that weren’t my own.
He took my face in his hands, forcing me to look straight at him. The tears spilled over as I stared up at the face that had become my world, my everything.
“I can’t lose you,” I choked out.
“You won’t.” Gracen meant to be reassuring, but I knew that he was thinking of the same thing I was. Though I knew what the outcome of the big events ahead of us would be, I didn’t know if we would both make it out of this turning point in history alive, together. I knew American history, but I didn't know our future.
He kissed me deeply, his body pressed against mine so that I could feel every hard line of him. I tasted the salt of tears on my lips but didn't know if they were mine or his. My body ached with the memory of having him inside me, ached with the knowledge that it could have been the last time.
It was strange. I'd said goodbye to family and friends, to a fiancé, when I'd deployed overseas. Six years of being in the military and never knowing if I was saying goodbye for the last time, I should've been used to tearless farewells and the pang of departure. But with Gracen it was different. I felt like I was losing a piece of myself. Like he was taking something deep and vital with him.
As he reluctantly pulled away, I curled on my side, my cheek pressed against the flat pillow, watching him wash, then dress. When he had his pants and shirt on, he turned back to me, tying back his cuffs as he crossed to the bed. Unlike the clothes he'd worn yesterday to help the sailors, he had more formal attire on now. Dressing the part of the relatively wealthy Loyalist.
“You need to get dressed if you’re going to see me off,” he said. “The tide waits for no one.”
“I can’t, Gracen,” I answered, hot tears rolling down my cheeks. “I can't watch you leave.”
He knelt so that his gaze was level with mine, his eyes reflecting the pain I felt. “Even if we’re not physically in the same place, we’re still doing this together. Please, my love. I want to have your face as the last thing left in my mind as I go.”
Shit. How could I deny him that? He’d given up so much for me, meant so much to me. I had to go. It had never been this difficult for me to part with Bruce, and it certainly hadn’t been this grievous for my former fiancé to see me off. All the more confirmation that what I'd felt for Bruce hadn't been real love. Gracen was my other half, my soulmate. All the things I'd never believed in until I met him.
I dragged myself out of bed, reveling in each twinge that reminded me of the depths of the passion we'd shared last night. Even though I knew this would be the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, I washed up and dressed, putting on the best of the dresses I'd brought with me. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep his cover.
Hand-in-hand, we made our way to the ship, neither one of us speaking. Soldiers were hard at work up and down the docks, loading up the last of supplies, shouting orders and greetings to one another. The absence of soldiers from either army made me uneasy as I realized I didn't know much of anything about what had happened on the shores and seas during the war. The Boston Tea Party, obviously, but even as I racked my brains, I couldn't think of anything that would reassure me to the safety of my husband.
My body almost resisted his touch when he reached for me because I knew that this was it, and every one of my senses rebelled against the very thought. I knew that this was as painful for him as it was for me, and neither of us was strong enough to turn down what could be a final embrace. I clung to him as he kissed me, pouring every ounce of love and desire into that single moment, and feeling it in return.
Gracen pressed one last kiss to my forehead before turning swiftly away. I covered my mouth to keep from sobbing audibly, but inside I had already broken down. I watched Gracen’s broad back as he made his way to the ship, slipping through my fingers with every step, taking my heart with him as he went.
Chapter 14
I was about to retreat back to the inn to cry before making plans of what to do next, when suddenly, I realized something. I looked just like one of those young sailors when I first arrived here. Hadn’t even Gracen mistaken me for a young man at first? I’d fooled him for far longer than even I had expected. Surely I could do it again...perhaps even long enough to make it to the open sea where there would be no choice but to take me along.
I told myself it was a bad idea, that Gracen's reasons for leaving me behind had made sense. That I could put the ship at risk by adding an extra mouth to feed on a journey that would take at least a month. But none of that outweighed the thought of spending months, maybe years, without Gracen. It was the possibility of losing him forever, and maybe never even knowing it, that got me moving.
I'd only brought a dress with me, having left my twenty-first-century uniform hidden under a loose floorboard back in our room at the estate, so if I was going to do this, I needed to find clothes, and fast. As I looked around, I spotted an unattended bag lying close by. Before I could talk myself out of it, I made my way toward it as inconspicuously as I could.
I felt bad for stealing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I pushed aside the guilt as I slipped into a nearby shed and changed my clothes. The minutes seemed to fly by as my shaking fingers struggled with all the ties and loops that imprisoned me in swathes of fabric. My heart was racing as I shoved my things into the now empty bag. I needed to have a dress for when we arrived in France, if for no other reason than to not make a scene. The mission was too important.
I pulled my hair back into the low ponytail men of this time sported, took a deep breath, and then stepped back out into the sunlight. I forced myself not to run, choosing a brisk pace that wouldn't attract much attention. When I passed the place where I found the bag, I dropped my small bag of coins and hoped that they'd find their way into the hands of the person whose clothes I'd taken.
I didn't let myself dwell on the guilt though. I had to get to the
ship, or the entire thing would've been pointless. To my relief, I saw one of the sailors shouting at a few men who appeared to be staggering toward the ramp. I glanced around as I slid into place behind them, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might recognize me. Fortunately, most of the men were far too occupied with preparations of setting sail to pay me much attention as I followed the stragglers onto the deck.
I ducked into a dark corner and watched, waiting to see what happened next. My heart leapt into my throat a moment later as Gracen came around the corner, deep in conversation with one of the sailors. I knew I needed to stay out of sight until we were well into the voyage. They couldn't very well turn around just to put one lone woman back where she belonged, could they? With that in mind, I sunk deeper into the shadows, searching for the most discreet way to sneak below deck where I could find a place to remain hidden for as long as possible. I wasn’t going to take any chances.
I jolted awake when the ship rocked beneath me. I’d drifted off a couple of hours ago, the stress and emotional toll of the last few days draining me to the point of exhaustion. I rubbed my eyes, flinching at a sharp pain going through my lower back as I moved. I massaged the knot of muscle with my fist, pulling myself to an upright position before stumbling to my feet. The motion of the vessel made me feel queasy, and I hoped that I'd adjust quickly. The last thing I needed was to be seasick on a month-long voyage with a sure-to-be-pissed husband.
I had no way of telling how far we'd come, but the little I knew about tides made me think that as long as we were on our way, I'd be safe. It wasn't like in my time where a motor could work against a current. Even if the ship had rowers, I doubted the captain would want to waste the energy just to drop me off. I did, however, need to get some fresh air. Seeing what time of day it was would also help orient me.