New York had had such harsh winters of late, spring seemed to take forever to come, and then before you knew it, fall was there and winter was right around the corner again. Spring in her time anyway.
Isabeau was instantly alerted when she heard a high pitched, keening whistling in her ears. She kicked her horse forward. The animal crow-hopped in surprise, pushing up against Pierce's mount. As Pierce turned toward her, several shots rang out from behind them. The loud noise startled the horses and they bolted.
Off balance, Isabeau pulled back on the reins, checking her horse's instinctive response to flee. Spinning her head to look back, she couldn't see anyone.
In the next instant, Pierce grabbed her reins and they were bolting toward a cover of trees dead ahead, the horses eating up the distance.
Isabeau's position in the saddle was precarious and she hung on tightly, her balance off after the startled hop the horse had executed when the shot rang out.
"Hang on!" Pierce's shout came back to her as they suddenly swerved into a denser belt of trees. Ducking her head, she felt limbs brush her head and the back of her neck as the horses darted like barrel racers around trees and stumps.
Isabeau lost a stirrup, felt herself leaning too much to the right, and clung desperately to the horse's pumping neck, praying the headlong dash would stop soon.
It stopped abruptly, even quicker than she could have anticipated. Pierce's horse, directly in front of her, came to a sliding halt three feet from the edge of a sheer drop off.
Isabeau's horse stopped, but not before it ran up on the other animal, the momentum driving Pierce's mount to its knees. The first animal recovered quickly, regaining its feet. The animal's chests were foam-flecked and heaving from the exertion.
"Isabeau, are you all right?"
She nodded, releasing her death grip on her horse's mane and dropping the short distance to the ground. She felt thankful she hadn't been crushed between the two horses.
She pushed the sweaty hair from her eyes with both hands as she dropped cross legged in the dirt.
Pierce quickly dismounted and knelt beside her, reassuring himself she was unharmed. He immediately ran a hand over his horse's knees.
"Get back on -- I don't dare stay here." He had a rifle resting in the crook of his arm, something she hadn't noticed before.
Isabeau climbed stiffly back into the saddle. Jamming her hat back on her head, she twisted the drawstring under her neck.
"Did you get hurt?"
"No, I'm okay." She turned sideways in the saddle, absently patting her horse's sweating neck. "It sounded like it came from behind us." She scanned the hills behind them. "Did you see anyone?"
"No."
She heard another horse approaching. Malry rode toward them at breakneck speed. He, too, carried a rifle. He glanced sharply at both of them. "Are you both okay?"
Pierce remarked grimly. "If Isabeau's horse hadn't acted up, the bullet whizzing past my ear might've found its mark. Did you see or hear anyone?"
"Two riders heading fast in the other direction. Couldn't see their faces. I got a third one." He jerked his head back the way they had come.
"I'll come with you." Pierce looked at Isabeau. "Wait here."
"What? Are you crazy? I'm coming." Reining her horse in a tight circle, she broke into a trot before he could stop her. She didn't have to look at him to know he was exasperated with her. She supposed she couldn't blame him.
"I'm not staying behind."
The man lay in the middle of the road, one leg twisted back, as if he'd taken a violent fall from his horse. She swallowed hard.
Pierce dismounted, then pulled the neckerchief from the man's face. Pierce straightened with a shrug. "Don't know him. We'd better get moving. The longer we stay here the easier a target we'll be."
"Aye," Malry agreed. "Should probably pick up the pace a bit too."
Shivering, Isabeau wondered at the identity of the dead man. She turned back once, saw Malry going through the dead man's pockets one by one.
"Are you okay?" Pierce asked beside her.
She nodded without speaking, but the sick feeling didn't go away.
Malry caught up to them a short time later. Without a word he handed Pierce a scrap of paper. Pierce looked at it, then made a tight fist, crumpling the paper. Impatiently, he dropped it on the ground, the horse's hooves treading it into the dirt.
"What is it?" Isabeau asked, dread rising within her as she noted the disgusted expression on Pierce's face. "What did the paper say?"
"It was only an address." He didn't say anything more, as if that were the end of it.
"Whose address?" she prompted. She had to know.
"Our business offices in Virginia." Pierce shook his head.
"I'll alert the authorities in the next town," Malry said. "They'll have to deal with the body."
"But won't that delay us? Surely they'll ask questions?" Isabeau said.
"We'll have to see," Pierce said, "but Malry has connections."
Further conversation ended as Malry broke into a canter, and they followed suit. Isabeau thought about the paper and the man who lay dead on the side of the road. A heaviness settled on her, one she couldn't shake. They didn't have to be close to Hawk's Den for the danger to find them.
As they moved briskly along the dusty, rutted road, Isabeau looked at the set faces of the two men. She knew there would be no stopovers tonight.
The pace was no longer easy; it now bordered on grueling, for the riders as well as the horses. She had elected to come. She'd have to keep up.
Mid-afternoon they stopped briefly to water the horses at a river crossing. Isabeau splashed her face and hands, feeling the dust clinging to her, her hands filthy from the reins and the sweat of her horse.
Malry came to stand beside her, the reins of his horse trailing the ground near his feet as he checked the horse's hooves for stones.
"I already checked," she said when he came over to her mount. "He's okay."
"And how are you, lass?" he asked, brows raised. Isabeau thought she detected a real note of concern on his grizzled face.
"Fine."
"I believe you mean that."
"Why shouldn't I? I have no complaints, except for that business this morning. It's unsettling, seeing a man dead on the ground, besides which I get cranky when bullets fly by my head."
"We all feel the same, that's why Cap'n wanted you to go a different route."
She shook her head, setting her jaw mulishly. "He's not getting rid of me that easily. I don't care how hard the pace is."
"Not like yesterday, hmm?" he asked slyly.
Isabeau looked quickly at him. She nodded, tongue in cheek. "The weather yesterday morning was awful. It's much better today."
Malry's laughed with amusement. "You wouldn't complain, would you? It was a hard pace yesterday too, yes it was. I pity the lad, I really do. I'll wager every bone in your body ached like the devil." He chuckled, looking over at Pierce as the other man checked the provisions in the horse's pack. "You're giving him a run for his money. One thing I'll say, life will never be boring."
Isabeau smiled, but her thoughts turned inward. What hope of a future was there, boring or otherwise?
"If you're ready, we'll get going."
Pierce was beside them, already mounted and impatient to be on his way.
#
Isabeau stretched, taking in the light just creeping in her window. It was early yet. Too early to get up.
She closed her eyes, her thoughts immediately on Pierce, his face clearly before her.
They had reached Washington in the middle of the night. Deciding not to venture any further, they had found lodging at a small inn just outside of the city. The horses were tired, and Pierce's mount had started to limp, no doubt from the jarring his knees had taken that morning.
After seeing her comfortably settled in her room, Pierce had disappeared. Isabeau had no idea until dinner that evening that he had borrowed a fresh h
orse from the owner of the inn and ridden into the city.
Malry had simply told her Pierce had business in Washington. Shortly after that, Malry, too, disappeared. Isabeau assumed they informed the authorities about the dead man.
Pierce had seemed preoccupied most of the day before. Isabeau wished they could get to the bottom of the plot against him. The same questions kept going around in her head. She had no answers.
A slight sound interrupted her thoughts. Isabeau didn't know what it was, but in the next instant her door quietly opened.
It was dark along the wall where the door was located. Isabeau saw a large shadow enter the room and stealthily close the door.
She sat up, clutching her meager covering to her breast as she felt around for the warming brick she'd used earlier.
Chapter Eighteen
As Isabeau slid to the edge of the mattress, brick in hand, the intruder stepped in front of the half-light coming in the windows.
"Pierce." She dropped the brick and it made a loud smacking sound on the wooden floor.
He raised a brow. "I'm glad to see you're armed."
She stretched languidly, unable to hide the satisfaction she felt at seeing him. As he came toward her she saw he was fully dressed.
"We're going to get an early start." He stopped beside the bed, not looking at her, but staring instead at the clothes she had placed on the bedside chair.
"Right now?"
Pierce heard the soft response. He tried to ignore the intimate whisper of the bedcovers as she moved. He nodded stiffly then he turned to leave.
"Pierce, wait." She sat up and the covers fell to her waist. The only thing she wore was a shirt of his. It was unbuttoned and he could see her skin as the shirt gaped open.
Provocatively, Isabeau dropped her voice. "Have you called Malry yet?"
Despite his good intentions, Pierce moved closer. "What?"
"Have you waked Malry yet?" She crushed the bedcovers between flexing fingers, wanting to reach out and touch him.
"Not yet."
"Well, then," she came to her knees and leaned toward him, close enough to hear him breathe and catch his scent. "There's time."
"Time?" Pierce continued to look at her, feeling his body's immediate response to her proximity.
He groaned at the same moment his fingers slid up over her ribs. Short, feathery wisps of hair clung to her lashes. She looked sexy, alluring, and innocent all rolled into one. Pierce put one knee on the bed, bringing her slim body hard up against him.
He had deliberately not looked at her, knowing in his heart what would happen, what was happening. Instant heat and desire coursed through him.
Isabeau splayed her fingertips over his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt.
Together, they lay on the bed, her soft breasts brushing his arm, her body moving restlessly against his.
Isabeau needed his warmth, knew she had to seduce him. Once started, she couldn't stop. Having come this far, her senses wouldn't let her quit. She must have dreamed of him all night, she just wanted him close to her.
"We have time," Isabeau said huskily, pushing her lightly clad body up against his. "I'd like a kiss." She put her face against his. Pierce's palms rested on her shoulders and he slid the shirt from her.
He felt as if he had not touched her in so long. His body felt starved for her. The sun inched across the bed but neither one of them noticed as he let his lips play across hers.
With a groan Pierce came down on top of her, crushing her slight frame into the cushioned surface of the bed. With a guttural sound, Isabeau squirmed, loving the feel of him hard against her.
Where she had been the aggressor, he now ravished her mouth, fingers gently kneading rounded curves, lips paying homage to sensitive spots, hard planes and angles grinding feverishly against softer flesh.
Isabeau stretched her legs, wriggling against him, pulling the buttons of his shirt free, running her palms joyfully over the hair roughened skin of his chest. Her fingertips followed the fine pelt as it arrowed down into his breeches. She could see the bulge below.
Wetting her lips, unable to contain the tremor of anticipation rippling through her, Isabeau looked up at him and found his eyes following the movement of her tongue.
"Isabeau." Half protesting, half groaning, Pierce kicked off his boots, which made a satisfying sound as they thudded against the wood.
She helped him with his breeches, kissing her way erotically along his hard, muscular body.
"Enough." He moved her up to him, pulling her between his legs, rubbing against her. Isabeau closed her eyes, caught between the heaven of wanting and the hell of waiting. She wanted him right now.
"Pierce." The whisper was a plea and a demand.
Flesh meeting flesh, the heat almost too unbearable. The gentleness was gone, but she didn't want it, she was as wild as Pierce. Their time was limited, she knew it. A part of her had resolved to grab whatever she could.
Isabeau met him equally, arms tight as she pulled him closer, closer, wanting it all. They were both ensnared as the tide pulled them away, then settled them gently back in reality, together.
#
A thumping at the door woke Isabeau for the second time. Groggily, she extended her arm but found the bed beside her empty.
She rolled over, taking the sheets with her. The light was fully in the room now. She had no idea what time it was, but early morning was well gone, she knew that much.
"Wake up, you've slept long enough." Malry was at the door. "Cap'n sent me up to tell you we're leaving in thirty minutes."
"I'll be right down." Jumping from the bed, Isabeau hopped about, jerking her skirt up over her hips. Luckily, she was a whiz at getting dressed fast.
A smile curved her lips as she paused dreamily, her thoughts turning to her earlier wake up call.
Apparently, Pierce had not dared to come to her room again, but had sent Malry instead.
Isabeau decided she liked the first wakeup call much better.
She was downstairs in the dining room in five minutes.
Malry grumbled to Pierce about the delay. When she appeared in the doorway, smiling, he did a double take and immediately shut his mouth.
"I'm ready."
Pierce pulled a chair out for her. "Have something to eat first. Mrs. Hoslen is preparing a wonderful breakfast." He looked down the table. "Ah, here she is now."
Pierce rose to help the woman carry in the heavy, food-laden tray, then placed it on a sideboard beside Isabeau.
"We have kidneys, mushrooms, devilled chicken legs. Perhaps some brain fritters?" He was looking at Isabeau.
She looked doubtfully at the assortment of food, most of which she did not recognize. "Really, I'd just like some toast and tea." She helped herself from the racks of toast on the table.
"Malry?"
The other man looked over the appetizing array of food, then pulled a chair over and sat down across from Pierce and Isabeau.
"Might as well," he grumbled, grabbing a plate and filling it. "We're late enough getting started as it is. What's another hour? Pass me some of those fritters, will you?"
#
They arrived in Virginia on a day that would remain memorable to Isabeau. The weather was balmy, the fragrance of lilacs sweetly clinging as their coach stopped in front of Hawk's Den.
Isabeau was disconcerted to feel a burning in her eyes when she caught the first glimpse of Hawk's Den. She felt as if she had been away a long time. She didn't understand where the sentimentality originated from, but she seemed to be oozing with it.
Isabeau stared fixedly at the trees lining the drive, waiting until her eyes stopped burning before she faced Pierce and Malry. They saw too much.
With her hand in Pierce's, she stepped down from the coach they had hired for the last leg of the journey, curiously breathless as she stared at the house.
She felt like Pierce's woman. Perhaps, Isabeau mused, a modern woman such as herself shouldn't think in such terms
, but the notion of being Pierce's woman didn't bother her in the least; after all, he was her man.
Several people exited the house and were coming down the walk toward them. Belva led the group looking quite sedate in an ivory blouse and dark skirt split for bicycling.
"Aunt." Pierce grasped the slender hands Belva held out to him in welcome. "All is well with you?" he inquired.
"Of course," Belva smiled serenely at him. She then stepped past him toward Isabeau. "My dear, I am very happy to see you once again." Belva graciously turned to the man at her side, Hawk's half-brother Treat. "Treat, I believe you've met Isabeau, my cousin's daughter from the North." She turned to face Isabeau, one lid coming down slowly in a wink. "Treat heard we were to be entertaining, and since Hawk escorted you from the train, he decided to stop by with some friends to greet you."
Isabeau nodded and smiled at the guests. Treat stepped toward her and took her hand. "I lived in the North for a time," he said softly, "we will have much to talk about." He lifted her hand to kiss it, his smile almost intimate, making Isabeau uncomfortable. Luckily he seemed to make no connection between the girl from the ship and herself. What a difference fine clothes could make.
Isabeau gently pulled her hand from his grasp and threw Pierce a glance. If looks could kill, Treat would have fallen down immediately. Pierce frowned and turned away.
Belva introduced her to the others in the group, one woman and two men, though the names promptly went out of her head.
"Please, everyone come inside," Belva continued graciously.
As a group they turned and walked toward the house. Isabeau was reminded fleetingly of her previous arrivals at Hawk's Den; she and Leif, then with Malry, and now, arriving for the third time. She sighed. It almost felt like she had come full circle. The big difference now was how she felt about Pierce.
As the others moved toward the house, she turned back to look at him as he spoke with one of the stable boys. He placed his hand on the boy's thin shoulder, bending down to the boy's s eye level. The boy looked up and smiled at him, hero worship in his eyes. Nodding at the lad, he caught her glance, the light in his dark blue eyes making her wish they could go off somewhere for the afternoon.
Isabeau entered the house with Pierce, highly conscious of his caressing fingers at her elbow. Malry had disappeared with a disgruntled look at Treat, who waited for her and then fell into step beside her.