Authors: Patricia Hagan
Lisbeth threw down her fan. "That's enough, Barley. I'll not have you criticizing my brother or laughing at him. Nor will I stand for your taking up for Raven. She's done nothing but make my life miserable and embarrass this household since she showed up, purely to get her greedy hands on Ned's fortune. She ran Julius off; he couldn't abide her any longer. And now I'm starting to wonder how much more
I
can take."
Barley took a sip of the lemonade Mariah had brought him earlier and did not say anything, knowing there was no reasoning with Lisbeth when she was upset. He also did not want to encourage her impulsive remark about how much more she could endure, for he well knew her only alternative was marriage. Since he was the one officially showing interest in courting her when the time became proper after her mourning period ended, she naturally would look to him to propose. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that anymore, not since he had begun to see, more and more, a very unpleasant side to her nature.
"Maybe I'm fretting for nothing," Lisbeth said, more to herself than to him. "Maybe all my problems will soon be over."
Something in her tone alarmed him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"That maybe she'll be leaving."
He laughed again. "Oh, I rather doubt that will happen. From what I hear, she's doing a marvelous job of running things. My father says the other planters are very impressed at how she's gained the respect of her overseers in such a short time. And from the numbers of cotton bales coming out of Halcyon, it would appear the slaves like her and want to produce for her. I've ridden in your fields. The spirit among the workers is the best I've seen since Ned took sick. No"—he shook his head firmly—"she has no reason to leave."
At that, Lisbeth leaped to her feet. "How can you say such things? How can you continue to defend her when you know how miserable she's made me? I think you'd better leave, Barley, right now. And I don't want you to come back until you're ready to be on my side."
"Now, Lisbeth, there's no need for you to behave like this, and there's no need for anybody to choose sides." He was up in a flash to try and take her in his arms but gave a startled cry as her hand cracked across his face.
"I asked you to go. Right now!"
He rubbed a hand across his smarting cheek. "All right, I'll go. But don't expect me to come back."
"Oh, you'll be back because you want to marry me, if only for my dowry. But you'd better change your attitude."
He had started to walk away but turned to look at her in pity. "I'm afraid, my dear, that, unpleasant as you are to be around lately, there's not a large enough dowry in the world to make me want to live with you for the rest of my life."
She ran to the edge of the terrace as he walked to the hitching post where he had left his horse. "You can't talk to me that way! And don't you dare ever set foot on Halcyon again, do you hear me, Barley Tremayne? You are no gentleman, and I'm going to see that your parents hear about this."
He did not look back.
Lisbeth was blinking back tears, determined not to cry, even though she felt as though she were dying inside. Oh, what was wrong lately? Why did the whole world seem to be crashing down around her? And how could she have done something so awful as to slap Barley?
Raven! she muttered under her breath. It was all Raven's fault. If she had never come to Halcyon, none of this would be happening, would it?
But a tiny voice inside whispered that maybe things could have been different if she had tried a little harder to accept things as they were, tried to accept Raven.
"No!" she said out loud, and suddenly feeling the need to get away from the house, she ran down the steps and across the lawn to the stables without even changing to her riding habit.
"Saddle up Belle," she ordered Joshua.
He could tell she was upset and hated saying anything but knew he had to warn her. "I don't think that's a good idea if you're going riding by yourself."
Crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot, Lisbeth challenged him. "And why is that, Joshua?"
"One of the stableboys saw some rowdies down by the river a little while ago. You know them tramps are up to no good. All they do is drift up and down the river looking for something to steal. Ordinarily, Mister Steve would go chase 'em off, but he left early this morning to go help John Hulse with a horse he's having trouble breaking. And there ain't no need in even asking one of the overseers to run 'em away, 'cause they ain't about to leave the fields with picking season at its peak. So you'd best not to go out riding by yourself."
"I'm not worried in the least. Now go and saddle Belle," she said firmly.
A few minutes later, he led the mare out and tried once more to dissuade her. "If you insist on going, why don't you ask Miss Raven to go with you? She knows how to use a gun. My, my"—he shook his head and grinned to think of the day he had seen her practicing—"she sure can shoot. You wouldn't have nothing to worry about with her along."
"Oh, I imagine she can handle a gun, Joshua. As well as a spear, a tomahawk, a hatchet, or any other primitive weapon the rest of those savages used where she came from. But I don't need her along, and I certainly don't
want
her along. I'm not afraid." She tucked her toe in his cupped hands and allowed him to boost her up into the sidesaddle. "Rowdies would never dare bother me. They know who I am."
"Yes, ma'am, but they might not care."
She tossed him a glance of disgust and rode out.
The day, despite the insufferable heat, was beautiful. There were no clouds in the brilliant blue sky; the river, a deep, dark green, rolled lazily toward the coast. Lisbeth was glad she had decided to go for a ride so she could be alone to think how wonderful it was going to be when she and Julius were at last rid of Raven.
And why, she wondered, annoyed, did everyone like her anyway? Everything she did was positively barbaric. Like the way she dove right in to deliver Belle's colt, not carrying about how messy it was. That was certainly unladylike—even if she had probably saved the colt's life, Lisbeth grudgingly conceded. Then there was the time Raven had not hesitated to save her from breaking her neck when Belle had run away with her. Lisbeth had cursed her instead of being grateful. But the fact was, no one else had gone to her rescue.
As for Julius, Lisbeth well knew how repugnant he could be when he was in his cups, and as much as she hated to admit it, he probably had made a complete ass of himself to provoke Raven enough to throw him into the rosebushes.
Lisbeth allowed Belle to set her own pace, not really caring which of the trails they took as she yielded to the strange emotions sweeping over her.
She had to admit Raven had never really seemed greedy. If money was all she was after, she would have accepted the offer she and Julius had made and taken off. Instead, despite being ostracized and humiliated at every turn, she had stayed and worked hard. Apparently she had done a good job, too, because there had been no complaints from anyone.
Something else Lisbeth was forced to acknowledge was that Raven had not appeared out of the blue to claim her inheritance. If Ned hadn't wanted to ease his conscience before dying, no one would ever have known she existed.
And a prickling of her own conscience began as Lisbeth thought how, if Steve were the only reason Raven wanted to stay, she had to care for him deeply.
"What is wrong with me?" Lisbeth asked herself, appalled. She reined Belle to a stop, confused over why she was suddenly having second thoughts. It was only right that Raven go back to her primitive way of life. She knew she didn't belong here.
But might she not feel she did belong if she had been welcomed, if she had not been made to believe people laughed at her?
But she was a whore, Lisbeth reminded herself angrily, then quickly admitted that no, that was not so. Just because she and Steve were lovers did not make her a whore. Lisbeth didn't consider herself to be one for offering herself to him. She did not, in fact, consider it altogether immoral. After all, she was a woman with natural instincts and desires too, and what woman wouldn't want to sleep with Steve Maddox?
Then, too, the scene with Barley bothered her deeply. She pretended on the surface not to care for him, but actually she did. A lot. He had begun to call upon her often during the time Steve was gone, and of all her potential suitors, he was the only one she could imagine marrying. There had been stolen kisses, too, and Barley had made her experience emotions that made her think she might not want to take a lover after she was married after all.
And now she had done something so stupid as to slap him, and he would probably never call on her again.
"Oh, why do things have to be so awful?" She spoke aloud, shaken by her misery.
A gleeful voice rang out in the stillness. "Hey, little lady. Things don't have to be awful. I'd say they're lookin' better all the time."
With a bone-chilling lurch of terror, Lisbeth saw them, but it was too late to escape. There were three of them, bedraggled men, leaping out of the bushes to drag her from her horse. She tried to beat them off with her leather riding crop but was no match for them, and they threw her to the ground.
"Yeah," one of them snarled as he licked his lips in anticipation and began to unbuckle his trousers. "Things are goin' to get real good."
* * *
"She'll be real mad when she finds out I went and told you," Joshua said as Raven swung up on Starfire. "And she might not even run up on them rowdies, but they can be real mean, and I was worried for her."
"You did the right thing," Raven assured him, reining the stallion about. She had come as fast as she could after he had run to the house in a frenzy over Lisbeth going off by herself. She had followed him back to the stable, taking time only to harness Starfire, leaving off his saddle to ride bareback.
Workers in the fields along the main riding path told her they had seen Lisbeth pass by. She seemed to be heading for the deep woods beyond the gardens, which was not cleared except for equestrian trails. It was dense, isolated, and certainly no place for a woman alone with river rowdies sighted, especially one as defenseless as Lisbeth.
Mariah had told her about Lisbeth having a quarrel with Barley, but Raven felt it was none of her business and had thought no more about it. Now she worried that Lisbeth would be brooding and not pay attention to where she was going.
She would have liked to give Starfire his head, to allow him to go full speed. Instead, she held him to a walk so she could be alert for any sound or sign that Lisbeth might be in distress.
Then she heard it—a shrill scream that was quickly muffled—not far away. To the right, toward the riverbank.
Raven knew not to go charging in on horseback, even though she felt the impulse to do so. But the scream had to mean Lisbeth or some other woman was in danger, and if guns were involved, shooting might start if the culprits heard anyone coming.
Dismounting, she moved stealthily through the bushes toward the direction of the sound. With her hunter's instinct, she knew how to avoid doing anything that might make a noise.
Finally, she peered through the leaves to see a nightmare unfurling. Three men had dragged Lisbeth to a clearing where they had made camp, there to guzzle whiskey till darkness, when they would creep about looking for something to steal. Lisbeth was being held down on the ground. One of the men had a hand over her mouth, and she was moaning in terror. She was about to be ravished, and the horror of it was that from where Raven crouched, she could not risk a shot without hitting her.
There was no time to wait. The man positioned between Lisbeth's legs was about to assault her. Unbuckling her holster so they would not realize at first that she was armed, Raven dropped it noiselessly at her feet, then straightened and shouted, "Let her go!"
The men all turned at once. One of them whipped out a gun and aimed it at her. "Who the hell are you?"
"Never mind who I am. Let her go. She's my sister."
The one hovering over Lisbeth flicked his eyes at Raven and immediately decided she was much more fetching. She was filled out, not puny. And if she put up a fight, it would only make it better. He didn't like to take his pleasure on a crying, whimpering woman. "Is that so?" He snickered. "Well, we might just do that if you're willing to take her place."
Stunned, the man holding Lisbeth lifted his hand from her mouth. She raised her head, amazed that Raven had walked right into the clearing. She had to be out of her mind.
But Raven knew what she was doing and responded with a taunt. "If any of you rowdies think you're man enough, come ahead."
That did it.
Lisbeth was forgotten as they charged toward Raven. The one with his pants down tried to yank them up and stumbled but kept on going, determined to make the dark-haired beauty pay for her insolence.
Raven saw Lisbeth struggle to her knees, but she was still too terrified to make a run for it.
They drew closer, and Raven's hands began to open and close, fingers aching to plunge downward and grab her guns, but she could not make a move until Lisbeth was out of the way, and she was directly behind the approaching men. Raven knew if she didn't act quick, they would be on her, and it would be too late.