here?" "Never can be too careful," Monahah said cheerfully. "We learn
that out here, ma'am."
"Yes, I'm sure you do," she said softly.
"Well, thank you. I do feel quite safe now."
He told her good-night and left. Tess sat down on the foot of the bed
and slipped off her black leather dance slippers.
Then she paused, feeling as if something in the place wasn't quite
fight.
She stood up and looked around. She hadn't had much brought in from the
wagon, but one trunk was shifted away from the wall when she was certain
she had left it against the wall. Her brush, which she had set on the
small vanity, had fallen to the floor.
She picked up the brush and set it on the vanity. Then she walked over
to the trunk and opened it.
It wasn't in wild disarray, but she knew someone had been into it.
She always folded her clothing meticulously and kept it in defined
piles, her flatiron on the bottom of the chest, her heavy skirts next to
it, her light blouses and lingerie on top. Things had been moved.
She sat again. Maybe Monahah was fight. You never could be too careful.
There was no one in the little house now, but there had been. Who?
Eliza. Tess was certain of it. She smiled.
"Eliza," she whispered softly.
"I've been dealing with the likes of yon Heusen. Fighting you is going
to be easy."
She finished undressing, slipped on the borrowed nightgown and crawled
beneath the covers. Her eyes wouldn't close, though. She was ready to
deal with Eliza. But what if she had already lost the battle?
There was no way she could know until morning. It was a horrible night.
She pt feeling Jamie's kiss upon her lips again and again. And no matter
how she fought it, she k~pt imagining that kiss falling against her
throat, her palm. and Other places.
She slept very late. D~pite the bugles and the commotion of a company
heading out for a day's scouting, when Tess finally slept, she did so
deeply and well. It was nearly noon when she imagined she heard a sharp
rapping on the door. She ignored it. Then she shot up as the door burst
open and heavy footsteps fell within the house.
The covers fell away. Her hair was tousled and falling around her
shoulders, her gown dislodged from one shoulder and draping precariously
low over her breast. Startled and disoriented, she gasped when she saw
Jamie Slater in full uniform, his plumed hat low over his eyes, his legs
apart and his gloved hands on his hips as he stared at her.
"You," she muttered.
He swept his hat from his head, bowing very low.
"Yes, do excuse me, Miss. Stuart. I wanted to let you know that we would
be leaving at the break of dawn tomorrow. I realize, of course, that
dawn might be difficult for you, sinee you are still abed this midday,
but I do intend to leave promptly. Are we understood?"
"Tomorrow! You're still--you're still taking me?" His eyes narrowed
sharply.
"I said I was. Why wouldn't I be doing so?"
"No--uh, no reason." She allowed her lashes to fall, shading her eyes.
"I was just worried that maybe ... that maybe you hadn't meant what you
said."
He was silent for a s~ond.
"Miss. Stuart," he said softly, "I always mean what I say."
"I was just worried that you didn't really want to go" -- "Oh, for God's
sake! I'm going. We're going. Tomorrow.
That is, if you get up on time."
She smiled, then forgot her animosity toward him, and just about
everything else for that matter. She threw back the covers and leaped
from the bed and raced toward him, casting herself into his arms. His
hands came around her as he held her uptight, his arms wrapping around
her. "Thank you!" she said earnestly. Then she realized what she had
done and how she was standing.
And that them wasn't much of anything between them. She could feel the
pressure of her breasts against the hardness of his body, and she knew
that the thin cotton gown wasn't hiding anything of herself.
She backed away, swallowing fiercely.
"Thank you," she repeated.
"I
really do appreciate it. Very much. I don't suppose that you could ever
understand, but I do." The gown was falling off her shoulder again. She
tried to retrieve it. Then she realized that she was standing in the
morning sunlight and that every curve and twist of her form, and even
the shadows of her body, would be completely evident to him.
And her body was warming, and she was certain that her breasts were
swelling, and she was breathing far too quickly, and he could probably
see the pounding of her heart.
"Sincerely, thank you." And she was still muttering. A broad grin
stretched across his features. She plunged quickly into the bed beneath
the covers.
"Miss. Stuart?"
"'yes?"
"Do me a favor once we're under way, will you?"
"What's that?"
"Please don't chatter away endlessly like that, huh?" "I never chatter!"
she said indignantly.
"Never?" His brow arched.
She flushed.
"Almost never. Lieutenant, do you realiz~ how very rude you're being?
You've disturbed my sleep, and now you haven't the decency to leave me
alone to dress." His eyes fell upon her. Lingered over her. He was still
smiling.
"Do excuse me then, Miss. Stuart. But count on this--for the next few
days, I'll disturb your sleep often."
He tipped his hat to her and strode from the room. Tess pulled the
covers close around her, then she smiled and sank low into the bed.
It was a busy day for Jamie. Jon Red Feather was going to be
accompanying him, but other than that, they would travel alone. Since he
didn't know quite what he was going to come up against, he spent a fair
amount of time determining what he wanted to pack on the supply horses
and what he might bring in Tess Stuart's wagon.
Dealing with Colonel Worthingham hadn't been hard. Eliza had been behind
the trouble, he had known that.
Worthingham might be blind about his daughter, but he was a good
officer.
Not that Eliza wasn't careful. She had been with Worthingham when Jamie
went to see him. She had spoken of the danger, of how Jamie was needed
at the post, and she had been so sweet no one might ever have suspected
her of having an evil thought.
Worthingham had suggested that another man might do the job; Jamie had
politely reminded him that he wasn't officially in the cavalry anymore,
and that had done the trick. He had three months now, three months on
his own.
And Jon was his own man. He always had been. Jamie was glad Jon was
coming along, even if he was being a thorn in Jamie's side over Tess. As
if the minx needed any champions. The girl did know how to fight her own
battles.
He didn't want to battle, he thought. He closed his eyes, then
remembered the way she had looked that morning, half dressed and
completely seductive, the outline of her delineated by the sunlight
against the soft white cotton.
And she 83 had smiled and thrown herself into his arms. He remembered
the taste and feel and texture of her and had known that he had to get
out of the room before he took a running leap and fell upon her in the
disarray of her gown and covers.
He was a fool. He should be steering as clear of her as he could.
Instead, he had given his word to take her to Wiltshire. And he kept his
word.
There was just so much he wanted from her in return. And she was
desperate enough to give it.
That wasn't the way he wanted her, he told himself. But then he
reflected that he wanted her in any way possible, and he wasn't quite
sure ethics entered into the question. And he had to stop thinking about