Defiant Impostor (45 page)

"And to think that just before I received the
letter I was on my way up here to apologize for accusing you of plotting
against me. To tell you that I wanted us to start over . . . to tell you that
I—" He didn't finish, choking on his words, and for a fleeting instant
Susanna thought she saw a wetness glistening in his eyes until he blinked
several times and said hoarsely, "Damn you, woman. This is twice you've
made me the fool."

"Adam . . . Adam, please listen to me," she
said, her throat tightened painfully against the tears threatening to overwhelm
her. "I didn't plot against you, I swear it! We can still start fresh. We
don't have to let Dominick do this to us!"

"To us?" he scoffed. "He made no mention
of you in that letter."

"I—I don't know why he didn't," Susanna
admitted, confused, her words coming in a desperate flood, "but he meant
both of us! Adam, we can go to Williamsburg right now and confess everything to
the magistrate. The court might punish us, but when they hear the truth, maybe
they won't. I know we'll lose Briarwood but after what happened today, I don't
think we were ever meant to have it. Yet you can still have your revenge! The
Cary money you paid to Dominick's creditors will have to be returned, and then
they'll go directly after him for payment. He'll still end up in a debtors'
prison, Adam, don't you see?"

"Why would I agree to give up everything I've
worked so long and hard to gain and start over with nothing, and with the likes
of you?" he lashed out at her. "No, my love, you're going to remain
as Camille Cary and the mistress of Briarwood until the day you die, whether
you like it or not. And if I ever discover again that you've plotted with that
monster against me . . ."

Susanna gasped in terror as he brought her hard against
his chest, plunging his fingers through her hair to pull her head back cruelly.

"We're going to play out this deadly game with
Dominick Spencer and give him exactly what he wants until I can find a way to
best him. What a merry race it will be! Him, hoping to find a way to kill me so
he can have you and your fortune, and me, thwarting his every move. One day I
will have my vengeance, my beautiful, treacherous wife. This I swear."

As Adam's mouth came down savagely upon her own, his
powerful arms enveloping her in a crushing, heartrending embrace, Susanna felt
all hope die within her. She would never have his love, only suspicion,
mistrust, and hate . . . and she knew she couldn't bear it. Not for a lifetime.
Not for another moment.

"No . . . !" she cried against his mouth,
biting his lower lip hard. As, cursing, he abruptly loosened his hold upon her,
she wrenched away from him so violently that she would have fallen if she
hadn't grabbed the opened balcony door.

Regaining her balance and spinning around to face him,
she edged along the door until she felt nothing but air, the afternoon sun warm
upon her back and the strong breeze stirring her hair. With the balcony behind
her, her desperate gaze flew to the door across the room, her only means of
escape, then back to his face.

"So this is how it's going to be from now
on," Adam said, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he wiped the back of his
hand over his mouth. "Biting, kicking, scratching. I can't say that the
challenge doesn't intrigue me—"

"It's not going to be any way!" Susanna broke
in defiantly, trying to choke back the scalding tears that were almost blinding
her. Trembling with hurt and fury, her embittered words tumbled from her lips
in a wild, agonized torrent.

"You don't deserve to touch me, Adam Thornton, and
you never will again! I refuse to spend the rest of my life with a man such as
you, a man who can't love, a man who won't relinquish his insane lust for
revenge. I should have known that no matter what I did and no matter what I
said, you would always think the worst of me. Well, you can have your precious
Briarwood and the Cary fortune and Dominick's blackmail of you, and you're
welcome to them! I don't want any part of this charade, and I don't want any
part of you!"

"You're confusing matters here," Adam said,
moving slowly toward her, his gaze stormy as he stepped from the shade of the
room into the bright sunshine streaming through the open doors. "Love has
never been a concern between us, only desire, yet you hurl it at me like an
accusation."

"You're right, it never was a concern!"
Susanna cried, retreating onto the balcony as he kept advancing on her until
she could go no further, halting abruptly against the wooden railing. Her heart
breaking, she could not stop herself from flinging at him, "That's why I
can't believe I ever fell in love with a man like you! How could I have ever
been such a bloody fool as to hope that someday you might come to love me, too?
You're too full of hate to care about anything but your revenge!"

Adam stopped cold, feeling as if he had been struck
hard in the face. He stared at her in total astonishment, at those beautiful
green eyes which were filled with such torment and defiance, at the tears
streaming down her flushed cheeks, at the palpable tension in her stance, as if
she was about to flee past him for the door.

"What did you say?" he demanded softly,
wanting to hear her startling words again so that he would know he hadn't
imagined them.

"It doesn't matter!" she threw back at him,
swiping a damp tendril from her face. "You have nothing to fear from me
anymore, Adam Thornton. No more foul plots to uncover, no more worries that I
might go to the constable and tell him the truth about Camille. I'm leaving for
England on the next ship sailing out of Yorktown, and then you'll not have
Susanna Jane Guthrie to worry about any longer. You can tell your fine
Tidewater friends that I've gone back to my aunt's at Fairford, or tell them I
died suddenly, I don't care! Just get out of my bloody way!"

"You're not going anywhere," Adam said, his
heart thundering. God help him, she had said she loved him! He had heard it!
Yet was it the truth, or just another of her many lies? Dammit, he had to know!
"You're going to stay right here and answer me—"

"No, you can't stop me!"

She dashed past him with such agile quickness that he
almost didn't catch her; grabbing a handful of jade silk he hauled her back and
enfolded her thrashing body in his arms. He wasn't prepared for the wild
ferocity of her struggles, and when she kicked him hard in the shin, he lost
his balance, pitching into her.

He saw a blur of green silk and white flailing arms as
Susanna lurched backwards . . . heard wood cracking and splitting, and her
terrified gasp of surprise. Then she was gone and he was left alone on the
balcony surrounded by an eerie, ominous silence.

Feeling as if his heart had stopped beating, Adam
rushed to the shattered railing. She lay on her stomach twelve feet below him,
her body inert and limbs askew, her face deadly white against the green grass.

"Susanna!"

He didn't think, only reacted. Wrenching aside the
splintered wood, he jumped, feeling excruciating pain shoot through his right
ankle as he landed. But he paid it no heed, falling to his knees and gathering
her unconscious form into his arms. Her breathing was frighteningly shallow.
Tears stung his eyes when he saw the scarlet blood matting her glistening hair
where her head had grazed the edge of the bricked path.

"Oh, God. Susanna . . ."

In shock, he rose with her and, hugging her to his
chest, he limped on his badly turned ankle to the double French doors. He
couldn't believe they were bolted, then he remembered he had ordered all doors
and downstairs windows to be locked, just in case Dominick decided to pay them
an unwelcome call . . .

Wasting no time, Adam smashed his fist through the
glass and, ignoring the stinging cuts in his knuckles, he unfastened the bolt
and flung open the door. Swallowing against the fear and terrible anguish that
gripped him, he staggered inside and began to yell . . . for Ertha, for
Corliss, and for the footman to run like hell to the stable and saddle his
horse so he could ride into Yorktown for the physician.

Chapter 26

"I'll sit with her, Master Thornton, if you want
to go and talk to that man from Raven's Point. After I saw the physician on his
way home, the man said to tell you that he can't wait much longer before he has
to leave. It's almost sunset, and he hasn't gotten any answer from you yet to
take back to Mr. Spencer."

Jolted from his exhausted haze by Ertha's voice, Adam
realized he had forgotten all about the overseer in the horror and then
sweeping relief of the last few hours. He glanced from Susanna's ashen face to
the housekeeper's. Strain showed around her dark-brown eyes, which held concern
but, thank God, no judgment.

"You'll stay here until I get back?" he
asked, reluctant to leave Susanna's side for even a moment. "I won't be
gone long."

Ertha nodded as she smoothed the satin spread tucked up
under Susanna's arms. "You don't have to rush. There's nothing you can do
here anyway. Maybe after you speak to the man, you might want to get some rest.
Corliss will help me keep watch when she returns from fetching you something
for supper."

"I'm not hungry, and the last thing I want to do
is sleep," Adam replied.

"Now, Master Thornton, you know the physician said
it could be hours before your wife wakes up. It's a miracle she wasn't hurt no
worse than some bruises and that nasty cut on her head . . . no broken bones
and, thank the Lord, no broken neck. It was the thick grass that saved
her."

"Yes. A miracle," Adam agreed, wondering how
a sorry son of a bitch like himself had been found deserving of such a precious
thing. He rose, wincing at the pain in his tightly bandaged ankle, and
relinquished his chair beside the bed to the housekeeper, who sat down with a
heavy sigh.

"I just wish she wasn't so pale," Ertha
murmured, laying her wrinkled hand on Susanna's forehead, then, adding as she
glanced up at Adam, "and I wish things weren't turning out as they are,
that there was something I could do about all this, some way I could help. I
don't know what troubles between you and Mistress Susanna" —sighing again,
she continued— "I mean Camille, caused this terrible thing to happen, but I
have a strong feeling it has something to do with why that man is waiting for
you outside."

"It does," Adam replied with grim honesty,
but he said no more as he limped to the foot of the bed and gazed upon Susanna,
stark emotion welling in him. How beautiful she was . . . and how horribly
close he had come to losing her forever.

Her impassioned words still rang in his head, fueling
the unanswered questions that tormented him. Unanswered questions that would
give him no peace. It sickened him that even now, he could not bring himself
simply to believe that she might love him. So much hurt and deception had gone
between them. They had both suffered so much. Yet there was a way he could find
out if she had spoken the truth . . .

"I'll be back soon, Ertha," he said, turning
from the bed.

"Whatever you say, Master Thornton, but I still
think you should get some rest. You were injured yourself, you know."

Adam didn't answer as he left the room, the weight of
the pistol he kept hidden in his coat pocket bumping against his thigh.

***

"Good thing you came out of the house when you
did, Mr. Thornton. I was just getting ready to leave," the overseer said
testily, reining in his restless mount by the front walk. "I heard about
the accident. I guess that's as good an excuse as any for keeping me waiting
here all afternoon. Is your wife going to recover?"

Ignoring the man's callously stated and
all-too-personal question, Adam said, "If you want to talk to me, get down
off your horse."

"Look here, I don't see any reason for that,"
the man objected, scowling. "Just give me your reply to Mr. Spencer's
letter and I'll be on my way. He told me a simple yes or no would do nicely, so
which one is it?

"I said to get down," Adam repeated calmly
despite his thundering pulse, withdrawing the pistol from his coat pocket and
pointing it at the overseer's startled face. "Now!"

"All right, Mr. Thornton! All right!" The man
jumped down, his swarthy coloring marked by a distinct greenish pallor.
"I—I don't see why you're getting so upset—"

"Shut up and listen!" Adam ordered, leveling
his weapon at the man's stomach. "Now I want an answer to my question and
I want it fast. Do you have a convict by the name of Keefer Dunn at Raven's
Point?"

"I—I don't know. There are so many of them—"

"Think very, very hard."

"Like I told you," the overseer echoed
nervously, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "I don't know, and
Mr. Spencer said not to say anything more to you, just to hand you the letter
and get your reply."

"But Mr. Spencer won't be the one with the ball in
his gut, will he?" Adam queried, cocking the pistol with an ominous click.
"I can assure you, a stomach wound is a gruesome way to die—"

"All right! Don't shoot me!" the man blurted,
backing into his horse, which whinnied sharply, tossing its head. "Keefer
Dunn's been at Raven's Point for a year now, but if you were thinking of trying
to see him, God knows why, you're out of luck."

His hand trembling, Adam had to tighten his grip on the
pistol. Susanna hadn't lied to him! Oh, God, what had he done to her . . . ?
Filled with self-loathing and bitter remorse, he forced himself to focus on the
matter at hand, although he wanted nothing more than to rush back to her side.

"Why is that?" he demanded, his blood roaring
in his ears.

"The bastard tried to escape this morning and
since he survived the lashing Mr. Spencer gave him, he's going to be executed
first thing tomorrow as an example to the rest of the prisoners." The
overseer gulped for air like a fish, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You must
have seen him, Mr. Thornton! He was one of the two men dragged back to the
house while you were talking with Mr. Spencer."