Authors: Maggie James
“What time is it?”
He took out his pocket watch. “Almost midnight. Sweet dreams.”
After he left, Angele sat up and hugged her knees against her chest.
She was still shaken by what he had just done…how glorious he made her feel. Even more so than before. But what he’d said about doing it even when they weren’t trying to make a baby bothered her. It provoked fears she’d hoped never to have to face when she married. Miss Appleton had said some men were like that, though, and to pray she never got one for her husband. Then she recalled again how some of the girls laughed about it. So maybe it was Miss Appleton who was wrong. After all, she’d never been married, so how could she know?
With a deep sigh, Angele lay back on the pillow, arms propped behind her head as she stared dreamily up at the ceiling. Maybe she didn’t know much about things like that, but whatever Ryan had done was wonderful, and though she dared not let him know it, she had enjoyed every minute. Just thinking about it made her feel a warm rush between her legs.
She touched her nipples, still hard from his velvet tongue. She had liked that, too.
Maybe it wasn’t wrong to enjoy it. Ryan certainly didn’t think so. And it was just between them. No one would ever know. As long as he was pleased, satisfied, nothing else mattered.
She felt secure and comfortable for the first time in a long while.
The evening had gone well.
She had taken care of the mare’s wound and managed to get rid of the spoiled gown.
Her secret was still safe.
Snuggling down, she wickedly didn’t get up and put on her nightdress.
Perhaps Ryan would be pleased to find her still naked when he returned.
With a smile on her lips, she fell asleep.
Ryan was worried about the mare and decided to check on her before meeting Corbett at the gangplank. When he got home, by damn, he was going to have Jasper teach him about such things. He might be the best in the valley at breaking a colt and training a horse, but he’d always left doctoring to Jasper. That had to change. It was all part of his new life, and it was called responsibility for everything at BelleRose. Before, he hadn’t really worried about anything except having fun. But now, with a wife, he was ready to settle down.
He just felt good about everything all of a sudden. He had worried Angele couldn’t be trusted after Corbett told him what she had done in Paris. And making it worse was how she had so calmly lied when he confronted her. But now that he understood, he would not worry about her being deceitful.
Like Simone
.
It still made him feel like a fool to remember the green-eyed beauty he had fancied himself in love with when he was several years from twenty. She was the daughter of old friends of his parents’ who had settled way south in Atlanta. She had come with her mother to spend the summer, and Ryan fell for her on sight.
They made love in the gazebo, and her passion had rocked him to his very soul. She was not a virgin and didn’t apologize. She told him she loved him, too, and wanted to marry him, and that’s all that mattered to him.
Till he caught her with somebody else
.
It had been by accident, but looking back, Ryan knew it was blessed fate that showed him what a treacherous little bitch she really was.
He’d had to go with his father to Philadelphia on business. They were supposed to be gone two weeks but finished early. His father pretended to be annoyed over how Ryan was in such a hurry to get home but was secretly pleased. Nothing would have made him happier than for Ryan to marry Simone. She was French. Her family was close to theirs. It was the ideal match.
They had arrived at BelleRose just after dark. Ryan had raced into the house to look for Simone, but she was nowhere to be found. Her mother said she had gone for a walk.
Thinking she would be at the gazebo, missing him and dreaming about the wonderful times they’d shared there, he decided to sneak up and surprise her.
But
he
had been the one surprised.
They were hidden by the thick honeysuckle vines that almost covered the gazebo.
He could hear the sounds of their frenzied lovemaking as he approached.
At first, he couldn’t believe it. But then he heard her cry out the name of the man taking her to glory—Lehman Trotter, son of the man who owned a neighboring plantation. Lehman had a reputation as a womanizer, and Ryan had seen him flirting with Simone at a barbecue his father had hosted before they left for Philadelphia.
His first instinct had been to tear through the vines and rip the lovers apart, beat Lehman senseless, and then shame Simone before both their families.
But pride kept him from doing it. In the foolishness of his youth, he had bragged to everyone that he and Simone were going to be married, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being humiliated.
He had gone back to the house and went to bed, heartsick. And the next morning when Simone danced into the breakfast room to shower his face with kisses and chide him for not waiting up for her to return from her walk the night before, he was glad they were alone.
He had leaped from his chair to grab her wrists and squeeze so hard she cried that he was hurting her.
“As you hurt me last night.” He had flung her away from him and told her he knew what she’d done with Lehman, and he wanted nothing more to do with her.
That very day, Simone pretended homesickness, and she and her mother left for Atlanta. He never heard from her again.
As for Lehman, Ryan reasoned that he must have known he and Simone were found out, because ever since that fateful summer, he had carefully kept his distance from BelleRose.
So Ryan was glad he had married a woman he felt he could trust, even if she didn’t want to talk about her life before they’d met. It was the future that was important, which seemed to be looking brighter all the time.
He was also optimistic that sooner or later she would not be afraid to show she wanted him. He longed for that day, because then he’d have what he’d always hoped for in a wife. He wouldn’t need a mistress like so many other men. He’d find complete and total satisfaction in his own bed.
The stall area was dark, but a softly burning lantern hung outside the door. Ryan used it to light his way to the small room where the boy who tended the horses slept.
He was just about to knock on the door when it opened and the boy rushed out. When he saw Ryan, he paled and staggered back a few steps.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I know it’s late, but I’m worried about the mare, and you said you’d ask around and see if any of the crew knew how to make a poultice that might help. I was wondering if you did.”
As he was talking, Ryan noted that the boy looked scared, and he was stammering. “Uh…no. I…I mean yes. Someone did do something to her that might be helping. But…” he tried to edge by, heading for the ladder the crew used to get to the loading area, “I haven’t had time to see. We’re in port now, and they just signaled for all hands to help load cargo.”
Ryan was sure the call to report to work had nothing to do with how the boy was acting. “I think you’d better come along with me to see about her.”
“But I can’t, sir. I’ll be in terrible trouble if I don’t get topside right away. And I promise, as soon as we’re done, I’ll go have a look at your horse.”
He ducked around Ryan before he could stop him and scrambled up the ladder and disappeared above.
Mumbling an oath, Ryan went back to the stalls. If anybody had put a poultice on the mare, he needed to make sure it looked like they knew what they were doing. The boy’s behavior bothered him, and if anything had been done to make her leg worse than it was, there’d be hell to pay.
He stepped up on the lower rung of the stall and held the lantern high so he could see. Sure enough, there was a bandage around the mare’s foreleg.
He noticed a strange odor. Was it vinegar? Mammy Lou, the old Negro who’d been the cook at BelleRose since before he was born, made the sour liquid from apples and used it to spice up collards and turnip greens. She had also used it on him the few times he recalled being stung by bees. But why was he smelling it now in a horse stall?
Being very careful with the lantern, he entered the stall. The odor was stronger. The mare seemed calm, not fidgety with pain as the last time he’d seen her.
Kneeling, he touched the bandage.
It was wet.
He put his fingers under his nose and sniffed.
It was vinegar, all right.
Then he noticed something else and held the lantern as close as he dared. He didn’t want to scare the mare or she’d start prancing around, which could prove dangerous in such a small place and with him holding a burning light.
“Well, I will be damned,” he whispered as he saw the bandage was peach colored and made of silk with a bit of lace at the edge. It was the same material as the gown Angele had worn earlier, had torn, and which she claimed to have mended.
He left and climbed up the ladder and found the boy working with the other deckhands.
Seeing Ryan, the boy backed away again, his face turning much paler than before.
Ryan motioned to him. “Come with me. We need to talk, and I think you know why.”
One of the men, a big, brawny sort with the look of one in authority, called, “Is something wrong, sir?”
“I just need to talk to this boy for a minute.”
The man frowned. “Go with him, Gerard. And you’d better not be in trouble over not tending those horses like you’re supposed to. I’ll have you thrown overboard, you little slacker.”
Doggedly, Gerard followed Ryan. When they reached the mare’s stall, Ryan pointed at the bandage. “I want to know who’s responsible for that.”
“One of the hands. I’m not sure of his name.”
Ryan clamped a hand on his shoulder, because he had started to fidget and he was afraid he’d run away again. “I think you do know. Tell me his name so I can find him. I want to know about the vinegar.”
“Uh…” He was floundering again. “He said it was a bee sting. He got the stinger out and then put the vinegar on it to draw the poison. And see?” he added brightly. “The mare’s a lot better, isn’t she? So now I have to get back.”
“It wasn’t a man who did it, Gerard. It was a woman. And that bandage was made from the gown she was wearing. Now don’t lie to me.”
The boy swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at Ryan. “I…I think it might’ve been. Yes, sir. But I wasn’t supposed to tell. I was supposed to change it, but I fell asleep, and then I heard the signal to get up top.”
Ryan chewed on his lip thoughtfully. Angele had diagnosed the problem and dealt with it. She obviously knew how to treat horses, but what puzzled him was why she wanted to keep it a secret. What was she hiding? But, more than that, she had lied. And he didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“You won’t say anything, will you, sir?” The boy was squirming again and looked as though he wanted to cry. “I could get in real bad trouble. And if they find out while we’re in port, they’ll put me off here. I didn’t mean no harm, and I swear to you I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“It appears my wife is a very headstrong young lady,” Ryan remarked, more to himself than the boy.
“But she certainly has a way with horses. The mare didn’t give her a bit of trouble…just stood still as could be, like she understood she was trying to help her. And see? She puts weight on that leg now. She’s definitely a lot better.”
Ryan’s hand dropped from his shoulder. It was true. The mare was on the mend. Jasper couldn’t have done better himself. “We won’t say anything about this to anyone, agreed? I don’t want it known that my wife was down here.”
Gerard nodded furiously. “Oh, no, sir. You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell a soul, and I appreciate your keeping me out of trouble.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Just be sure you change the bandage as soon as you can.”
Ryan didn’t want anyone to wonder about silk and lace being used on his horse.
Corbett would be waiting, but Ryan didn’t want to postpone confrontation with Angele. He was furious and wanted to know how much of
anything
she had told him was true.
And, as much as he hated to admit it, it appeared he had stupidly done the one thing he had promised himself he would never do again—get involved with another deceitful woman.
Only this time it was worse.
He was married to her.
He slowed.
Maybe it would be best, after all, to just go ahead and meet Corbett and go ashore. It would give him time to calm down, because already gratitude was beginning to overshadow his anger. Maybe she
was
keeping something from him, although so far, he could find no fault with her intentions.
Besides, blowing up and ranting and raving wouldn’t help the situation. She was probably already asleep, anyway. It could wait till morning.
He went on up to the main deck. Corbett spotted him and came running, waving his arms and calling, “Wait, Ryan! Stay there. I have to tell you something. Don’t come out here.”