My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) Page 10

  Mary’s smile was sad. “You’re right, of course. I just wish he could be here when the baby comes.” Mary touched her stomach lovingly.

  “Perhaps he will.”

  “Humph.” Sadayi covered a mound of dough with a clean cloth. “The English and French are not yet ready to exchange the peace belt.” Though Caroline shot her a warning look, she continued. “I fear things will be worse before they are better.”

  “You can’t know that, Sadayi.”

  “Caroline, you needn’t try to protect me. My stomach may be large, but I still hear things.”

  “Wa`ya warns us to prepare for battle.”

  Caroline’s jaw tightened. “What does he know?” Since her arrival at Seven Pines, Wolf’s name had been mentioned several times. Despite her desire to accept what happened as a lesson, Caroline couldn’t help the agitation that the sound of his name brought. If only he didn’t invade her dreams every night...

  “Raff is very knowledgeable about such matters. I realize Robert never listens to him, but Logan believes he should. And so do I.”

  “What is it that Robert should do?”

  “The inadu, the snake, should not cheat.”

  Sadayi’s words were so full of hatred that Caroline was speechless. It did not help to know that she was not alone in her dislike of Robert MacQuaid.

  “There, bend forward so I can arrange this better.” Mary backed up and tilted her head to admire her handiwork. “’Tis lovely you look.”

  Caroline smiled her thanks. But she didn’t care how she looked. She felt nauseated. The only reason she’d embraced the idea of dressing up for this day was to please Mary. The other woman insisted upon viewing this occasion as a celebration. Caroline certainly didn’t share her assessment. “Are you sure the flowers in my hair aren’t... well, a bit, too much?”

  “Oh no. I wore roses entwined in my hair when I married Logan, and he complimented me on them.”

  Caroline made no comment, but it was painfully clear that one wedding had naught to do with the other. Mary obviously loved her husband. She spoke of him often, her tone soft and gentle. Caroline knew better than to hope for anything like that.

  “Are you... frightened?”

  “Of what?” Caroline glanced in the oval looking glass, and tried not to scowl.

  “Of... of you know. The marriage bed. Because I can assure you ’tis not as bad as some might tell you.” Her thin cheeks turned a vivid red. “If truth be known, I find it quite enjoyable.”

  Mary busied herself arranging the folds of brocaded overskirt. Caroline imagined her friend’s sudden industry was to hide her embarrassment, but she was glad Mary’s preoccupation kept her eyes lowered. For she wouldn’t have wanted Mary to see her distressed expression.

  Caroline quickly masked her countenance, but she couldn’t suppress the emotions that throbbed within her. She knew of the marriage bed—though before man nor God could she use the term with a clear conscience. But that didn’t stop her from remembering. Enjoyable Mary called it. Caroline would go further.

  Wondrous.

  Celestial.

  Heartbreaking.

  Caroline’s skirts swayed as she stepped away from Mary and faced the window. “Thank you for telling me.” She took a deep breath. “But you needn’t worry. I will get through it all right.”

  She had to. Caroline closed her eyes a moment, reminding herself she had no choice. When she looked around at Mary, her smile was in place. “I imagine it is time we go down.”

  Caroline’s back was straight, her chin high as she entered the parlor. It was a quarter of an hour past the time set for the nuptials, but it appeared no one was especially interested in rushing the ceremony.

  “Ah, there she is, my blue-blooded bride.” Robert lifted a glass, spilling rum down the front of his silk waistcoat as he gave a mock salute to Caroline. “She’s a pretty little sacrificial lamb, don’t you think?”

  His question was for the reverend, Mr. Appleby, who seemed to find nothing offensive about the remark. He laughed loudly and took another slurping swig from his own glass.

  Reverend Appleby was nothing like Caroline remembered a clergyman as being. She didn’t know exactly what denomination Reverend Appleby represented, and at this point didn’t care. What did it matter if her bridegroom and the minister were deep in their cups?

  Mary alone seemed anxious to make this wedding festive. She stepped into the room, a scowl darkening her face. “Shame on you, Robert, and you Reverend Appleby. This is no time for strong drink.”

  “And why not? ’Tis the only pleasure I’ll derive from the day, thanks to this banged up leg.” Robert gave his splinted thigh a slap, grimacing at the pain. He lifted bloodshot eyes to Caroline and his expression turned lecherous. “Unless Her Ladyship can be persuaded to ease my heated blood in other ways.”

  Mary’s gasp interrupted the cool stare Caroline gave him. “She will await you in her bed like any other decent young woman,” Mary said. Her hands were planted on her widened hips, and she reminded Caroline of a mother chicken protecting one of her brood. But then Caroline wasn’t an innocent chick, nor a pure virginal girl. Still, thoughts of submitting to Robert MacQuaid’s lust made her ill.

  The ceremony was blessedly short, due in part to Robert’s inability to stand for prolonged periods... and the minister’s lack of sobriety.

  When the final words were spoken, Caroline felt as if a trap had closed around her, but that was ridiculous. Now she and Edward were safe or at least secure financially.

  Little was eaten of the wedding feast Mary had prepared. The ham tasted like dust in Caroline’s mouth and Robert and Reverend Appleby quickly retired to the parlor to partake of more liquid refreshment.

  “I don’t think he meant it.” Mary put down her fork, forgoing all pretense of eating. “He can’t even make it up the stairs.”

  “’Tis his right.” Caroline sipped water to calm her stomach distress.

  “Yes, but not tonight. Not till his leg heals.” The grey eyes were filled with sympathy as she stared across the mahogany table.

  “Whenever,” Caroline answered, folding her napkin and placing it beside her plate. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to lie down.”

  “Are you ill? Your cheeks are so pale.”

  “No. Just tired.” Caroline pushed back her chair and rose, ashamed at her lack of bravery. But she couldn’t seem to help herself as she nearly ran from the room.

  Darkness added a new dimension to the worst day of her life. Caroline lay beneath the quilt, her limbs stiff, and listened to each creak of the floorboards. He’d said that he was coming to her tonight.

  “Hell and damnation, you’re my wife and I’ll have you whenever and however I please.” His words as he left the wedding meal echoed through her head. Caroline twisted to the side, grabbing the pillow and jamming it over her ears. She didn’t want to hear him thump up the stairs. She didn’t want him to come.

  When she finally fell asleep amid tousled and tangled sheets her erotic dreams of Wolf were polluted with grotesque images of his father... her husband. She woke the next morning, thankfully alone, her head aching, her stomach rebelling. It was mere luck, but Robert had passed out in his own bed the night before. It was luck again that helped her make it to the chamber pot before sickness overwhelmed her.

  “The bleeding is not that bad.”

  “Then stay abed to please me.” Caroline gave Mary’s shoulders a firm push onto the down pillow. “Besides, there is no need for you to rise today.”

  “The garden...”

  “Is being picked. And as soon as I assure myself that you are going to do as Sadayi suggested, I shall go outside and help.”

  “But—”

  “Mary.” Caroline pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. “You don’t want to do anything to hurt yourself or the baby. What would Logan do if... Well, you must simply take better care of yourself.”

  “I do love him so.”

  Caroline cla
sped her hand. “I know you do.” She knew from the way Mary’s eyes shone when she spoke of her husband, or the way she clutched the only letter she’d received since Caroline’s arrival.

  “If only he loved me as much.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m sure he adores you.” Actually Caroline knew very little about Wolf’s older brother. Mary, of course, spoke of him with great affection. Robert said next to nothing about any of his sons. But then he spent so much of his time a prisoner of rum that he seemed to care about little else.

  “Oh, he cares for me.” Mary turned her face away. “And I probably shouldn’t even say this but, well, a woman can tell.”

  “Tell what?” Caroline fluffed the comforter. “I think worry has turned your mind to corn mush.”

  That statement brought the smile she wanted, but it didn’t deflect the train of Mary’s thoughts. “It was Robert’s idea that we wed. He wished an heir for his name.” She twisted her head to look at Caroline. “I heard them talking, yelling actually, about it one night. Logan wasn’t happy here trading with the Indians. He and Robert fought constantly.”

  “About trading unfairly?” Caroline had learned much from Sadayi about the way the Cherokee felt about Robert.

  “Yes. Logan despised some of his father’s practices. He and Raff discussed it, and together they went to Charles Town to lay the truth before the governor.” She brushed a lock of hair off her face.

  “What happened?” Caroline remembered the meeting Raff had with the governor while she waited in the anteroom. By the looks of Mary as she raised her shoulders, Caroline imagined the brothers got as much satisfaction.

  “Governor Lyttelton said he would look into it. He went so far as to appoint a commissioner, but nothing changed. Raff was furious.”

  “What of Logan?”

  “Not long after that, Logan left me.”

  “It wasn’t you he left. You said yourself he’s fighting the French.”

  “A woman knows,” was all she would say.

  Caroline did her best to sway Mary’s contention that her husband didn’t love her. Before she shut the door, leaving her friend to rest, Mary admitted that worry over her baby and fatigue were probably the main reasons for her melancholy. Still Caroline wished Logan MacQuaid would come riding down the path to reassure his young wife.

  As usual when she approached the parlor, Caroline’s step grew lighter. But this time it did no good. She cringed when she heard Robert’s voice.

  “Mrs. MacQuaid, I would see you a moment.”

  With reluctance she couldn’t hide, Caroline paused in the open doorway. “I was on my way to the garden.” The heavy curtains were drawn, but enough light filtered into the room for her to see his annoyance as he motioned her inside.

  He’d become more fleshy since her arrival, and his skin had taken on a pasty hue. Yet his expression and tone remained the same, only modulated by the amount of rum he imbibed. This afternoon he appeared relatively sober, though a glass of amber liquid sat upon the table by his arm.

  His stare was disconcerting as Caroline stood before him. But she’d decided not to be intimidated by him, and she did her best to school her features into a pleasant mask. “Mary is resting. I pray this problem won’t harm the baby.”

  “Women have babies all the time. The savages simply drop the whelp and forget it. You coddle the girl too much.”

  “Is that what Raff’s mother did, drop him and forget it?” Caroline couldn’t imagine what possessed her to say such a thing. She’d never before mentioned his son’s name, and certainly never to imply his mother was Cherokee. It hadn’t taken her long to realize the contempt with which her husband viewed the Indians.

  If she’d set out to raise his ire, which she tried very hard not to do, she couldn’t have said anything more inflammatory. It didn’t take the contortion of his face in rage to tell her that. But she resented his attitude, all the more because the Cherokee women were the first to suggest Mary needed to rest more. And she’d seen them with their own children. They were loving, attentive mothers.

  Still, as she waited for the vile words to spew forth, Caroline knew she shouldn’t have said it. She certainly owed neither Wolf nor his mother her allegiance.

  “Damn you, girl!” Robert lunged to his feet so quickly he lost his balance and fell back heavily into the chair. “I’ve put up with your insolence too long. ’Tis time you learn your place.”

  Keeping quiet was her best defense, Caroline was smart enough to know that. But today it seemed a wayward imp had control of her tongue. “I have attempted to make a place for myself here.” Caroline was proud of the work she did, the friends she’d made.

  His laugh was evil. “Your place is in my bed, girl.”

  To this, Caroline managed to say nothing. It was a common refrain... threat... she considered it. He seemed to enjoy watching her pale as he described in detail the vile things he would do to her when his leg healed.

  “And if you think to escape me much longer... He laughed again, wiping the spittle from his lips with the back of his hand. “My leg is getting better each day. Come, feel for yourself. The knot where the bones mend is smaller.” He waved her forward.

  Caroline knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t make herself move forward. Instead she made some quickly stated excuse about being needed in the garden and retreated through the door. But she wasn’t fast enough to miss his raucous laughter, or his chortled, “Soon, girl. Soon.”

  Though she’d stopped outside the door to calm her agitated breathing, both Sadayi and Walini looked up, their expressions concerned, as she came down the path to the kitchen garden. “Mary is worse?” Sadayi asked after dropping a squash into the bag tied to her waist.

  “No, no, she seems better actually.” Caroline tied the ribbons of her bonnet as she walked toward them through the rows of corn. She retrieved her own bag from the hook near the kitchen door and began filling it, working side by side with the two women. They spoke of the weather... warm for this late in the season of corn. And the Cherokee women wondered aloud if the men would go to the winter hunt... or if war would keep them close to the villages.

  Caroline listened to their talk and wished she could say something to ease their minds... to ease her own mind. When she could stand it no more, she changed the subject.

  “Sadayi,” Caroline asked as they finished picking a row. “Did you know Raff’s mother.”

  “Wa`ya’s mother, Alkini, came from another town, but I knew of her.”

  “She was very beautiful,” Walini said.

  “Phew.” Sadayi made a face toward Walini. “You never saw her. You are too young.”

  “I know what I’ve heard,” Walini countered. Sadayi lifted her shoulders. “What Walini says is true. She was beautiful.”

  “Did she live at Seven Pines long?”

  “I do not know. It is said she came here to marry the snake who cheats.”

  “Oh,” Had Robert promised to marry her, then turned her away? “What happened then?”

  “Nothing happened. She lived. She grew old.”

  “But Robert... Mr. MacQuaid never married her?”

  “Not in the way of the white man. But the Cherokee way is simpler.” Sadayi said it as if she thought their way was also far superior. “We exchange gifts, and that is it. If either decides it’s not to be, they leave.”

  “Did Alkini decide to leave?” Caroline couldn’t imagine anyone staying with the man willingly.

  Sadayi shook her head. “She was sent away. Then many years later, he came and took the boy.”

  She made a tsking sound with her mouth. “Wa`ya should have stayed with her. Learned from his uncles. It is our way.”

  Later as she sat by the creek that ran behind the house, Caroline thought of what the women had said. It had become her habit to sit here for a few moments before going into the house. She enjoyed the quiet time to herself as the day gave way to twilight.

  The magnitude of the surrounding for
est fortified her, helping her face the evening. A time she was forced to spend with her husband. Today, dreading the certain confrontation, she lingered awhile longer, sitting on a moss-covered rock and watching as the crystal water chuckled over the polished stones.

  No one ever bothered her when she came here, which was one reason the sound of her name, spoken softly, startled her so. The other reason was that even before she turned, she knew who was behind her. It was almost as if her mind had conjured him up.

  Caroline slowly looked over her shoulder, assuring herself she was prepared for the sight of him. Realizing immediately she wasn’t. “What are you doing here?” Her tone was as haughty as months of built-up hurt and anger could make it.

  “I’ve come to take you away,” was all Wolf said.

  Seven

  “Are you mad!” Caroline took an involuntary step backward. In her haste her foot tangled with an exposed root. Raff’s hand shot out, catching her by the upper arm before she could fall. Caroline should have been grateful for the assistance, but she wasn’t. As soon as she regained her balance, she pulled away from his touch.

  There was no denying, despite all that had happened, he affected her as strongly as before.

  Caroline took a deep breath. “I think you should leave.”

  “Not without you.”

  Her gasp was audible. His words sounded so familiar. Caroline heard them in her dreams nightly. It was always the same. He came for her, begging her forgiveness. Insisting she go with him. Swearing undying love...

  But this was not a dream. Even though the nebulous light of dusk gave the whole a surreal quality, Caroline knew the flesh and blood man standing before her was no fantasy. And his words were not something she wished to hear.

  Not now. It was too late.

  Yet after her first request that he leave, she seemed incapable of doing more than staring at him. Regardless how strong and compelling her memories of him were, they paled compared to reality. He was taller, broader of shoulder and more darkly handsome. And though his garb was more civilized than when last she saw him—hair tied in queue, linen hunting shirt and leggings—the real Wolf exuded more savage strength than her dreams allowed. Even the most erotic ones.