Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
Mid-August, 1777
T abitha had done exactly what Edmond bid her not to do. She had not only seen Julian Jackson. She had gone to Jackson’s Bluff on the foolish hope that Julian had persuaded his father to set things right between them.
Julian’s written invitation to help him and his parents host a supper for like-minded friends had arrived several weeks after Edmond’s warning. Edmond had been busy enforcing the schedule at Fort Howe and making a trip to the lumber mill at Darien, arranging her shipment. That had been just as well, for she had yet to vanquish the shame of how he had put her away just when she had practically begged him to remain in her life.
For a moment, she had thought he might kiss her. Her whole body had gone weak with longing—quite against her will. There had never been any point in wishing for that type of affection—wishing to be with someone she actually desired. Someone who might care for her pleasure as well. And as it turned out, whatever desire he felt for her in return he must have judged of the transient variety, for there had been no kiss, and he had left her with nothing but an injunction…and a sore heart.
That sore heart had overridden her better judgment where Julian was concerned, especially when he’d revealed that one of the dinner party guests would be a merchant from St. Augustine who could connect her with valuable suppliers for her store. And he’d hinted that to further convince her of his honorable intentions, he’d made strides in persuading his father to forgive her outstanding debt.
Your help in entertaining our guests would be invaluable , he’d written. Afterwards, we will talk of new beginnings. Let us erase the misunderstandings and mistrust and move forward as friends and neighbors.
In the end, Tabitha had decided to give Julian a chance to make good on his promises. After all, she would be safe enough in company. ’Twas not as if she would be alone with him. And how could she spurn even a chance of ending this malignant showdown with the Jacksons? Nothing they had tried thus far had worked. Would it not be an immeasurable boon to move into her future free of their control? If Hugh would agree to release her from Henry’s obligations, perhaps give his agreement in writing, she would find a way to dissuade Julian’s interest in her.
Of course, Dulcie and Cyrus had argued as vehemently as they dared. Dulcie had gone to muttering her Scriptures about wounds of a friend being better than the kisses of the enemy and wise counsel being found in the multitude of counselors. But in the end, she had ridden here with Tabitha and dressed her like the fine lady she’d once been in a guest room upstairs.
While Dulcie waited in the detached kitchen, Tabitha had suffered through a multi-course supper, hopefully without betraying to the Jacksons’ guests her altered circumstances or political loyalties. The South Carolina planter who sat beside her made no secret of his allegiance to the Crown. The St. Augustine merchant—if indeed he was a merchant—had been in attendance as well, though he possessed the loquaciousness of a politician and showed no interest whatsoever in Tabitha. Neither did Hugh Jackson. In fact, the only one who took notice of her was Julian, who watched her intently with a gleam in his dark eyes.
As the meal ended, the rich food churned in her stomach. Edmond had been right, and she’d been a fool. Would she never learn not to trust men? Clearly, Julian’s only goal had been to lure her into his vicinity. His father probably had no idea Tabitha expected to meet with him after dinner. She had to make her escape—and the perfect opportunity arose when the men closeted themselves in the gentlemen’s study, while the ladies gathered in the sitting room. She would get Dulcie and ride home before Julian realized she was gone.
Tabitha waited less than a quarter of an hour before making her excuses and slipping out of the fine parlor, but the drone of the men’s voices made her pause in the hallway. She had a chance of overhearing the real reason they were here—if no servants came along while she attempted to listen through the study’s thick pine door. Wouldn’t the risk be worth it if she could take some information back to Fort Howe?
She would only linger a moment.
Tabitha tiptoed down the hallway, then leaned on a glossy walnut table to remove one of her silk-covered shoes that matched her black dress. Should someone happen along, she would say she had twisted her ankle on the way back from the privy. Closing her eyes, she sent up a little prayer. Did God help deceivers if their reason was good enough?
With a glance up and down the empty hall, she edged close to the door.
Hugh’s bass voice rumbled on the other side. “We know that Donaldson, the shipwright from Philadelphia, has been building a seventy-four-gun ship and four frigates at Southerland’s Bluff.” Tabitha knew the location—on Sapelo Island, near Darien. “But our main obstacle would be the six row galleys commanded by Commodore Bowen. While not under sail, they are highly maneuverable in coastal waterways. And each carries multiple swivel guns and an eighteen-pounder in the bow.”
“’Twould be imperative that Governor Tonyn deployed ships near Darien and in the Frederica River to support any land invasion.” That was Mr. Culpepper, the South Carolina planter. But why was he concerned about what the Florida governor did here in Georgia?
“Governor Tonyn has already illustrated his commitment to subdue Georgia from the south.” The Florida merchant-politician spoke sharply. “What of our Loyalist brothers from the north?”
A throat cleared. “With Brown and his Indian allies, the East Florida Rangers, and the British Navy, we would consider?—”
A hand touched Tabitha’s elbow. She jumped and dropped her shoe as she whirled to face—“Julian!” Her heart raced, and blood rushed through her ears. He had not been in the study, after all, but had come down the stairs behind her, and she had been so engrossed in eavesdropping, she had failed to heed his approach.
His expression hardened into a cold mask. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the rear of the hall, near the back door that led to the kitchen. “What did you hear?”
“I…nothing! I was only trying to see if you were in there before I knocked.”
“I do not believe you. Guilt is all over your face.” He pulled her closer, looming over her, his hot breath fanning her cheek. His chest heaved beneath his silk coat and waistcoat.
She pointed to her shoe, still lying in front of the study door. “I twisted my ankle coming in from the back steps. I planned to beg my leave for the evening.”
His glare neutralized the sting of her conscience. “You would leave my mother to entertain the guests alone?”
Tabitha had agreed to play the spinet when the men rejoined the women in the parlor. Julian’s mother was such a meek and nervous woman—hardly surprising, given her husband’s and son’s domineering natures—that it failed to surprise Tabitha that she would quail at speaking or performing before her own guests. Or that Julian might be drawn to Tabitha because of her stronger nature.
And now, she needed to placate him. If he thought she was deserting him, he would believe she had overheard something of value. “Perhaps if I just sit down a minute…”
“Indeed, for you must stay. Surely, you haven’t forgotten our meeting with my father.”
His suggestive tone and sidelong glance warned her not to blurt out that she knew the truth, that no such meeting had ever been his intention. “Of course not.”
“Good, then.” Julian guided her to a settee near the back door and went to fetch her shoe. She had barely settled on the velvet cushion before he returned, but he did not put the slipper in the hand she held out. He took a knee and reached for her foot.
Tabitha gasped as his warm hands moved over the embroidered silk stocking that covered her ankle, firmly but gently kneading the muscles and tendons beneath.
“It seems sound enough.” His gaze sought hers while his fingers slid up her calf, as if continuing to probe for injury. But a mirthless smirk upturned the corners of his lips. “Are you lying to me, Lady Riley?”
“How dare you?” Tabitha stiffened, drawing her leg back.
“What were they speaking of in the study?”
“I have no idea. Release me, sir.” She shoved at his arm, but he was as immovable as a steer in a privet hedge.
He squeezed her knee where a ribbon held her stocking in place. “My guess is that you’ve learned something you plan to report to your precious lieutenant at Fort Howe.”
“He is not my lieutenant. And your actions are highly inappropriate.” Finally, she succeeded in pushing him away.
“As are yours.” Julian’s eyes blazed suddenly, and he shoved her shoe on her foot and jerked down her petticoat. “I admit, I invited you here to see how you would behave. If the wilderness has made you wild. And it seems it has.”
“I came, did I not?” Tabitha pushed herself to the edge of the settee, her hands pressed on either side of her. “I acted the part expected at supper. Did that not show where my loyalty lies? So if you will excuse me…” She rose, but he did likewise, standing only inches from her.
He braced her by the arms. “Careful. We wouldn’t want you to further injure your ankle.”
“I believe I can make it upstairs just fine.”
“Why in such a hurry? You were looking for me, were you not?” He brushed her ringlets back over her shoulder. His gaze fell to where her pulse thumped in her throat. “If I’m to take your word that you are not a little spy, there is only one way a man can interpret a woman lingering about in the hall waiting for him, and that is that your desire matches mine.” Before she could react, he dove forward and planted his lips on her throat. Then the hollow beside her collarbone.
Tabitha cried out and attempted to shove him back, but he held her fast by the arms. “You mis interpret, sir.”
He cupped her chin, forcing her face up. “I’ve wondered for some time what it would be like to have a woman with your spirit.” His rough mockery of a kiss nicked the edge of her jaw.
“Let me go!”
The hand at her head moved to her waist, and Julian crushed her mouth with his, forcing her lips apart, mashing the lower one against the sharp point of her teeth. His exultant moan covered the cry of protest that lodged in her throat. His other hand moved to her breast and squeezed.
Tabitha wrenched free just enough to bring up her hand and slap his cheek.
His eyes shot open wide. When he raised his fingers to his face, she attempted to flee, but he grabbed the front of her bodice. The thin silk fabric ripped. He caught her by the waist again, but she beat him off.
“Edmond was right! You are a snake!” Before he could take hold again, Tabitha stumbled for the back door. Sultry evening air enfolded her as she raced for the kitchen with its golden light burning in the windows.
I n the officers’ quarters at Fort Howe, Edmond was cleaning his two dragoon pistols and the fine Kentucky rifle he’d purchased in Savannah when a cry rang from the wall. “Riders at the gate!”
He set aside his oil and rag. He did not expect the return of any patrols, and when he stepped out onto the porch, only a sliver of golden light remained on the horizon. Who would approach at this time of the evening? And the sight of them only increased his astonishment.
Two women rode into the compound. There was no mistaking that slender figure in black silk, even though Tabitha sagged in the saddle as he’d never seen her do before. That and the way her uncovered hair straggled about her shoulders set his legs into motion. He ran to help her down.
She fell against him with what sounded like a small sob, and he held her up while his heart surely pounded through both of them.
“What has happened? Where were you?” Had she gone back to River’s Bend for some reason?
Dulcie slid down from her mare. “Jackson’s Bluff.”
“What?” A bolt of cold fear shot through him. He grasped Tabitha’s arms in an effort to move her away enough to glimpse her face, but she sucked in a breath as though he had hurt her and shook him off.
“Please do not hold onto me like that.” Chafing her upper arms, she allowed Dulcie to encircle her shoulders. A flap of rouched fabric fell open at Tabitha’s bodice, exposing her embroidered stays.
Frozen in horror, Edmond managed to raise his gaze to hers. “What happened?”
“Julian… You were right… I’m sorry, Edmond.” When Tabitha’s face crumpled and she sagged against Dulcie, Edmond did not hesitate. He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms.
Dulcie allowed it, moving back. “He attacked her, Lieutenant.”
“He what?” Edmond’s anguished cry wrought a shudder through Tabitha’s limp form. He cradled her against him while he stared over her head at her servant.
Dulcie met his gaze. “She got away, and we rode for the river. Only, the ferryman has gone for the night, and I did not think it wise to attempt to swim the horses across in her present state of mind.”
Edmond tightened his arms around Tabitha. Could she feel their shaking? “No. I’m glad you came here.”
“I need to tell you…what they are planning.” Tabitha lifted her tear-streaked face to his.
“Hush. Wheesht.” Edmond fell back on his mother’s Scottish term to soothe her, wiping the dampness from her cheek. “Come inside, both of you.” Thankfully, the other lieutenants were out, one on a scout and the other supping with some of the men. Edmond led the women into the officers’ cabin and settled Tabitha on the chair where he had been sitting.
Dulcie took the other chair at the small table.
Edmond gestured to the clay pitcher there. “Cider?”
Both women shook their heads, and Tabitha whimpered and wiped her eyes.
His heart squeezing, Edmond sank to his knees before her and took her hand. “Tell me everything.” At the end of the telling, he might reassemble his guns and ride south. Dulcie said Tabitha had “got away,” but her lower lip was swollen, and was that a cut?
Tabitha refused to meet his gaze, keeping her lashes lowered. “The Jacksons have guests, a planter from South Carolina and a man from East Florida who was supposed to be a merchant, but I think he is a politician. Julian had indicated the man could connect me with suppliers for the store.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “That was why you went there?” He could have done the same for her in Darien.
“Not all.” She darted the briefest of shame-filled glances at him. “He also said he had convinced his father to forgive my loan—well, that is what he implied. They needed my name, background, my assistance in convincing these Loyalists they have support in the area. If I helped them entertain the guests…”
Edmond nodded, squeezing her hand. If she weren’t so obviously grieved, if she had not been assaulted, he would be angry at her. As it was, he only wanted to get his hands around Julian Jackson’s throat.
“I thought if I went, it would placate him at the least, and maybe, just maybe, all this intrigue with the Jacksons could be laid to rest. It did not take me long to realize that was a foolish wish.” She rubbed her eyes and grimaced. “I was on my way out when Julian caught me listening at the study door.”
“And did this?” Edmond gestured upward with a bit too much ire.
Tabitha shrank back, tucking in the edge of her torn bodice. “At first, I convinced him I had not heard anything. But then he pretended to misunderstand my reason for being there. To think I had come for…for…”
Edmond stood and grabbed his pistol’s ramrod from the table. He jerked his rag down its length before he shoved the metal piece back against the barrel. “I shall call him out for your honor. Silence him as McIntosh did Gwinnett. The ingrate deserves to die.”
“No, Edmond.” Tabitha shot to her feet and gripped his arm. “He must not know I came away from Jackson’s Bluff with any knowledge. And you are needed here, at Fort Howe. And with me.”
“With you.” He turned back to her, no longer able to hide his need. “In what way, with you?”
Her lips parted as she searched his eyes. Finally, she gave a breathless reply. “Any way you want to be.”
Edmond froze. “Do you mean that?”
Not breaking his gaze, Tabitha stepped closer.
Dulcie rose without a word and slipped out onto the porch.
Edmond’s heart raced. He inched forward, bent his head toward hers. Inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. His fingers brushed hers, and lightning slid up his arm.
Every so slightly, Tabitha lifted her face toward his. Whispered, “Lieutenant, I know not how better to answer without throwing myself at you again.”
Could it be? “But I am so far beneath you.”
“We are equal in every way.” She raised her other hand for a feather-light stroke of his hair. “Complementary.”
“My reputation…”
“An officer. A gentleman. One who, if we are fair, is too young for me.” Tabitha’s fingers slid into the strands at his nape held in check by a ribbon. She dipped her forehead to his jaw and inhaled a trembling breath, as though he affected her .
Drawing back an inch, Edmond ran his thumb over the side of her face. “And yet, you would not be who you are without every one of your years, even the hard ones.” He could speak the truth now, now that he knew Tabitha would not be charmed into Julian’s arms. “The woman I have fallen in love with.”
Tabitha sucked in a soft breath and batted back sudden moisture in her eyes. “And I love you.”
A scoff of disbelief escaped before Edmond laid his cheek against hers, then pulled back just as quickly to cup her chin. Mindful of her cut, he allowed his lips to whisper over hers until she moaned and pressed her mouth to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he crushed her to him as their lips melded with all the sweetness and fire he’d imagined. They kissed until they were both breathless, then pulled back, gasping and laughing.
“I feared you would not want me,” Tabitha whispered, touching his face. Her fingers rasped over the stubble on his jaw.
“Oh, I want you.” He pressed his lips to hers again. Then again.
“Ow. Ow!” Tabitha giggled and put a finger to her mouth.
“Sorry.” He grimaced. “You started it.”
“No, you started it.” Her teasing melted into a look of such desire that his knees went weak. “And I never want you to stop.”
“Then you best marry me.” Edmond smoothed her hair back and kissed her temple. As her husband, he could protect her better. They would make a united front against those who would seek to withhold their right to thrive in this land. “We will make our own way. Our own name.”
“Lassiter.” She seemed to savor each syllable before she smiled and gave a firm nod. “I see no need to extend this charade further. Let us make it genuine. Yes. I will marry you.”
A little whoop and clap from the front porch drew laughter from both of them.
Tabitha’s eyes sparkled. “Dulcie approves.”
“I am grateful for the ally.” Edmond drew back to kiss her hands, then he peered at her, his heart aflame with more love than he’d ever thought possible after Evangeline. How quickly could he make Tabitha his? “We can have the banns read with my family at the Presbyterian Church in Darien next week.”
She nodded. “But do you not want to hear what I learned at Jackson’s Bluff?”
“Not really.” He pulled her into his arms again, running his hand up and down her back. Could this courageous, spirited, beautiful woman truly be his? “For now, I just want to hold you and thank God for what He has done.”
Maybe His Father had not abandoned him, after all.