Read Wild legacy Online

Authors: Phoebe Conn,Copyright Paperback Collection (Library of Congress) DLC

Wild legacy (6 page)

"I do remember him," Belle replied. "He was tall and dark and quite handsome."

"Yes, that's him. He kissed me a time or two, and there was definitely something special about him, or at least I thought there was at the time. Perhaps it was only the danger of being courted by a British officer while all the men here were plotting rebellion. I wonder if he's still alive."

Falcon had described how easily he shot British officers, but Belle thought better of relaying such distressing news when Sean could easily have been one of his victims. "If he is, he might be in Charleston."

"Yes, he just might." Dominique seldom allowed herself to think of Sean, and then it was always with regret. She was silent a long while, but when she at last turned to Belle, her tone had dropped to a more serious level. "I caught only a fragment of the conversation at your end of the table,

but didn't you ask Falcon about the need for volunteers to tend the wounded?"

"Yes. I didn't want to be here the next time Falcon came home, and going on a mission of mercy would make an excellent excuse to leave. Now my main concern is that Falcon won't be coming home."

Belle's sorrow was so deep, her love obviously sincere, that Dominique didn't hesitate to offer what she considered a brilliant suggestion. "Then let's go after him."

"What?"

Dominique laughed at her sister's dismay. "The men in our family have all served to further the cause of the United States, but what have we done? Nothing but provide amusing company for the young men who have a few days to spend with us between battles. They're grateful for any woman's company, and I never trust their compliments to be sincere. Why don't we go to South Carolina and tend the wounded? It would give you the chance to straighten out things with Falcon, and if I can locate Sean, perhaps we could meet."

Belle shook her head in disbelief. "You make it sound as though you're planning the entertainment for a picnic when the trip would be dangerous, and when we arrive in South Carolina we'll undoubtedly find men are dying every day, or living in such terrible agony they're in desperate need of care. If you left a hospital to meet a British officer, both sides would accuse you of spying. Are you eager to hang?"

"Spying? I hadn't even thought of that." Dominique looked sincerely pained, but her expression quickly brightened. "You're right. Attempting to contact Sean in the middle of a war is a stupid idea, but volunteering to tend wounded soldiers certainly isn't. Mother has taught us a great deal. I know we could ease suffering, and we aren't making any contribution to the war sitting here."

"No, we're not, but from the harshness of Mother's re-

sponse when I mentioned it, we're unlikely to be given permission to go."

"Christian's fought with the militia. Beau's at sea. Falcon is undoubtedly the best scout fighting with the Patriots, and Jean's helping with Father's commitments to Congress. And here we sit, forced to bide our time, hoping a couple of brave men will survive the war and offer marriage. Frankly, I'm sick of being nothing more than a beautiful diversion when I have the skills and talent to heal."

Dominique rose and unconsciously primping, smoothed out the folds of her skirt. "Let's just go, Belle. Let's gather up some clothes made of simple homespun fabrics so we won't draw attention to ourselves, and just go. I swear, Falcon's visit is the most exciting thing to happen here in weeks, and he's already gone."

Belle broke into a slow smile as she considered Dominique's plea. She had grown up trailing after Falcon, and the prospect of seeing him again held enormous appeal. Dominique might wear more lace and perfume than she did, but beneath the polished guise of a fragile beauty, she had resilience and strength. Their parents had instilled courage in them as well as their sons, but Belle feared no matter how eloquently they stressed their humanitarian desires they would never be permitted to tend wounded.

"I think we'll have to keep our plans a secret," Belle said, "or we'll risk being locked in our rooms. I doubt we could overtake Falcon, but he taught me how to track, and we might be able to follow his trail. If I asked Hunter what route Falcon had taken, I'll bet he would draw me a map."

Dominique reached out to take Belle's hands to pull her to her feet, and danced in place. "What an adventure! I can't wait. We'll need food. Come on, let's go back up to the house and make a list—otherwise, I'm afraid we'll forget something essential."

"Yes, we have to be very careful about this, or we'll be stopped before we leave or soon after." Belle had absolutely

no idea what she could say to Falcon when they overtook him, but for the moment, she pushed that concern aside. "You're right, Dominique. Too little has been expected of us, and now that we've thought of a way to make a contribution, we ought to do it."

"Yes, we must. Can you think of an excuse for us to leave the house early tomorrow morning?"

"I often fish. I have old clothes I usually wear, and you can borrow a simple gown from Johanna and say you're planning to join me. We can take a lunch, and tell everyone we're hoping to make a day of it. We won't be missed until late afternoon, and by then, we'll have been traveling a good ten hours."

"Hunter will come after us," Dominique warned. "And if you ask for a map, he'll know right where to look."

Belle nodded, and quickly discarded the idea. "Father has maps he marks to follow the progress of the war. I'll copy one." Her mind racing to find other ways to ease their journey, she forced herself to take a deep breath and remain calm. "We'll have to take some of Mother's herbs, but not enough for her to miss them tomorrow."

Dominique drew Belle to a halt. "When we reach the house, ask Mother for advice. I'll go up to her room and take what I can. We'll need barberry root bark to treat wounds, white willow bark for fevers, and what else should we have?"

"Comfrey powder is good for wounds, and what about chamomile? It's an excellent treatment for both fever and wounds."

"Yes, I'll get that, too. Try and keep her talking ten minutes at the very least. That will give me the time to select the medicines we need and rearrange her supplies so she won't notice anything is missing."

"I'll try."

"No," Dominique scolded. "You'll have to do better than that. Falcon's broken vour heart and ridden off to war. Cry

if you must, but once you ask for her advice, I know she'll have plenty to say."

Belle was well aware of the fact that their mother was a woman of strong opinions, but she did not realize how strong until they were seated together in the sitting room where the morning had begun. Christian and Liana had taken Liberty and gone home, as had Johanna and David, so once Dominique had excused herself, Belle was left with her mother and aunt. Sensing Belle's reluctance to confide in Arielle with her there, Alanna made a discreet exit.

"This has been the worst day of my life," Belle began, and she did not have to resort to theatrics to summon tears.

Arielle moved to take a place at her daughter's side on the settee. With windows on the west, the cheerful yellow room was a bright refuge on lazy summer afternoons. This was their first opportunity to talk since Falcon had tactlessly blurted out the result of his proposal, and she welcomed it. "I'm sorry for contributing to it, Belle, but I don't understand why you rejected Falcon's proposal when I know you love him."

"Had he proposed when he brought me the bouquet this morning and said that he loved me with all his heart, I would have been overjoyed and said yes. But that's not what happened."

Arielle gave her daughter a comforting hug. "Your father is very concerned about him, Belle. War does terrible things to men, and while we all believe independence is worth the tragic human cost, that doesn't mean we won't suffer while paying it. If you and Falcon are destined to be together, and I truly believe that you are, then you'll eventually work out whatever problems prevented your becoming engaged today."

Belle clung to that hope. "I wish I could believe you."

"My predictions seldom prove wrong. The real question, however, is whether or not you believe in Falcon."

In the space of a day the handsome Indian had been pas-

sionate, aloof, sarcastic, withdrawn, and yet, so dear to her that Belle had no doubts. "Yes, I believe in him. He's so much a part of me, I feel lost when he's away."

"I doubt he'll be able to stay away long this time. Too much was left unresolved between you."

Belle knew that was true in her mind if not in his, and nodded to encourage her mother to continue providing helpful advice. When Dominique joined them for tea, she hoped she could recall even half of it. Her sister winked at her, and she had difficulty hiding her excitement. She could not wait to see Falcon again. The hazards of the journey and the dangers of war seemed slight compared to that joy, and she fought not to smile so widely that she'd inadvertently alert her mother to their plan.

Belle knew it was foolish, but believed with all her heart that Falcon's love was worth the risk. She prayed that the next time they were together there would be no doubts, nor apologies, but only more of the heavenly bliss she had found in his arms.

to set it aside and break off a piece of the half ryemeal, half cornmeal bread known as rye-an'-injun. She added butter and chewed with deliberate care so as not to choke. The empty chair opposite her mocked her dreams cruelly, and she felt her mother's gaze as plainly as the heat from an open oven and did not dare glance her way.

Arielle noted Belle's bright blush, but after their conversation that afternoon she considered her daughter's embarrassed reaction perfectly normal. "Like you, I do wish he had stayed longer, but I trust Falcon and Belle to work out their differences on his next visit. He is a fine young man, but clearly the war has given him experience far beyond his years. We must all pray that we will soon win our independence so that Falcon, and all the young men fighting for our country, can come home and resume leading peaceful lives."

"We all want peace, Mother," Jean agreed, "but I would like to fight in at least one battle."

"That is only because you have no idea of what a battle really is," Hunter warned. "Death is not always swift, and the screams of dying men can echo in your memory forever."

Alanna saw Belle recoil with dread and kicked her husband's shin under the table. "Please, the horrors of war are well known. Can we talk about something else? I fear none of us will be able to digest this delicious meal."

Hunter caught Byron's eye and held it. "My son is his own man. Do not blame yourself for chasing him away."

"Thank you. I'll try not to," Byron replied without conviction.

Dominique waited until everyone had taken several spoonfuls of soup before speaking in a soft, casual tone. As always, her voice held a hint of enticing intimacy. "Belle and I were thinking of going fishing tomorrow. Do you want to come with us, Jean?"

"And have you scare away all the fish with your constant

giggles?" Jean teased. "No, thank you. I have work to do here for Father."

Dominique held her breath, waiting for someone to object or at least notice that she had never shown any interest in fishing before that evening, but no one did. "Belle knows of several fine places along the river where we might have a pleasant picnic. Then if we do more giggling than fishing as Jean predicts, we'll at least have had a lovely day."

As the eldest, Dominique frequently attempted to advise Belle, usually completely without success. But after Belle's tragic misunderstanding with Falcon, Arielle thought the suggestion of a picnic a wonderfully thoughtful gesture. "What a splendid idea. I'll ask Cook to pack you something special. Enjoy yourselves and if you catch fish for our supper, fine. If not, we'll dine on something equally good."

Dominique broke off a bite of bread, but before it reached her lips, she noticed just how closely Hunter was observing her. Alanna and her father were cousins, so the Indian was merely a cousin by marriage, but all Byron's children called him Uncle. His dark eyes seemed to stare right through her, but she refused to behave as though she felt guilty for planning to run away.

"Is something wrong, Uncle?" she asked. "If you know of a good place to fish, we'd welcome the suggestion."

"Do you plan to go fishing in your satin and silk?" Hunter asked, amused by the thought of the elegant young woman baiting a hook.

Dominique frowned slightly, as though sincerely troubled by his remark. "I'd not thought about my clothes, but you're right, Uncle. There's nothing in my wardrobe that will do. Do you think Johanna might lend me one of her linen gowns?"

Shocked by that question, Arielle replied before Hunter could. "Really, my darling, Johanna's clothes are as lovely as yours. We'll find something appropriate for you here. Just be certain both of you wear your caps pulled down

low. That way you won't come home as freckled as the field hands."

Belle needed a swallow of wine to wash down another bite of bread, then finally overcame her near-suffocating excitement to join in the conversation. "Perhaps I have something for you to wear, Dominique. Come up to my room with me after supper."

Dominique smiled at Hunter before thanking her sister. He frequently wore a disapproving frown around her, but he was never hostile. She knew he considered her a flirt, which she could not deny. She had never doubted that he loved her every bit as much as he loved Belle and Jean, however. She thought of Sean O'Keefe then. She had certainly flirted outrageously with him, but that had been just prior to the outbreak of the rebellion when the British officer had rightly suspected her family of disloyalty to the king. The danger their involvement entailed had not been the only attraction, though, or she was certain his memory would not have lingered to this very day.

As the conversation drifted to other subjects, Belle had to force herself to finish her soup. She had never had to keep such a delicious secret from her family, and it was all she could do not to blurt out the plan she and Dominique had devised. It would be promptly denounced as absurd and forbidden, so she kept it locked in her heart, but she did not draw a relaxed breath until the meal ended after bowls of blackberries in cream. As soon as she and Dominique had reached her room, she quickly shut the door and began to pace.

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