Caroline (8 page)

"You looked like a cornered fawn for a moment. Were you afraid I might force myself on you? It must be quite a revolting thought to strike such terror into your heart!"

Caro bent her head over her sewing, trying to think of a flippant reply, when she felt his hand touch her back. Heart pounding, she heard herself say in an unnaturally loud voice: "Believe me, even though you are certainly no gentleman, I am not terrified of you in the least!"

Alec's fingers closed over the back of her gown and she was pulled back against the bed. Propping himself on an elbow, he looked down at her and Caro could see sheer devilment in his eyes. Yet, he did not touch her.

"You're right; I am no gentleman. I'm glad you've learned that at last and if you're as bright as I think you are, you won't forget it." Beneath the cynical overtones, Caro could sense the warning in his voice. "And I'm happy to hear you aren't terrified of me."

He was looking down at her with open desire. The soft curve of her neck was only inches away, and the fragrance of clover rose from her hair and skin. Her eyes were wide with anxiety mingled with longing. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to pull himself away and get to his feet. Caro sat up, clutching at the fichu fastened so securely at her bodice. Turning away to flick an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve, Alec commented with studied casualness:

"I originally came in here to see if you would care to brave the rain to pay a visit to Molly in the barn. She was looking rather forlorn this morning, despite Ivan's constant attentions."

Caro's face was transformed with delight. "Oh yes! That's a wonderful idea!"

Wearing an old pair of James Wallingham's boots, Alec half carried Caro through the bog-like mud in the yard. The coat she held over her head offered little protection from the driving rain, and once inside the barn, Alec muttered: "I should have known better than to bring you out in this."

She didn't care, though. Molly almost lunged at her with joy, and Caro was oblivious to all else. Alec watched them momentarily, struck by the obviously deep bond of affection between them. It was hard to realize that Caro had no real memory of Molly beyond the two previous days.

Ivan was prancing and strutting around the barn and Alec grinned at him.

"I suppose you've been in here taking advantage of the rain, old boy. Poor Molly hasn't a chance against your charm."

Ivan whinnied in gay agreement and Alec set about his tasks while Caro chatted to the mare, brushing her until her coat gleamed. Alec was in the far corner of the barn when he called: "How does the idea of a real bath strike you,
cherie?"

Caro laughed, not even looking up.

"Why, I'd love one. While you're at it, why don't you order me a coach with six white horses?"

"Perhaps you'd care to step this way? I can hardly credit that you still doubt my abilities!"

Caro eyed him warily as she made her way across the barn only to peek inside an empty stall and be faced with a giant black kettle.

"Alec, what has that monstrosity got to do with a bath?"

"Everything, my dear!
This
will be our bathtub!"

"Bathtub! But, it's horrid-looking, and completely the wrong shape! Why, it looks like it was designed for a—a-"

"Hog?" he supplied helpfully.

"All right, sir, please tell me what this kettle is supposed to be. I know it is too big to cook in, and I'm
sure
it's not a bathtub!"

He threw back his dark head then and laughed. "Ah, Caro, it's unfair of me to tease you. Actually, this kettle is used on the day of hog-killing, but I'll spare you the details. James sold all the pigs and the kettle has gone unused this year."

Caro was staring at the huge iron pot with undisguised distaste.

"Are you really serious about
bathing
in this?"

"Yes! A little scrubbing and it will be as good as new. The only drawback is that it will have to stay here in the barn, and it could tend to get chilly! I can build a fire though, and bring in water to heat from the pump. Frankly, the thought of a hot bath is hugely appealing to me!" He watched Caro's face soften as his words sank in.

"I have to admit, it would be lovely. Do you suppose I could wash my hair?"

"Undoubtedly! I'll be glad to help." Alec's eyes were flashing with devilish amusement. "Certainly you must realize that you'll need me on hand to pour the water!"

Her chin tilted indignantly. "You'll do no such thing, sir. I'd sooner bathe in cold water."

* * *

In the end, they decided to put off baths until the next day. The afternoon was on the wane, and Caro was predicting with great assurance that the rain would end that night. Alec told her that even if the storm stopped they would be staying put for at least another day in order to give the roads a chance to dry somewhat.

Upon returning to the house that afternoon, Caro challenged Alec to a game of piquet, which he accepted rather skeptically. When she beat him, however, his competitive instinct was roused. Her dimples showed in a smile of pure delight as he scratched his head, frowning.

"I can't recall losing at cards since my childhood."

"Well, you have met your match. I know in my heart that I am an expert at this!"

Alec's brow was furrowed with concentration for the next two hours, and Caro was averaging a victory in one out of four games. It was the aroma of the turkey that finally caused them to quit, and he leaned back in his chair, studying her with mingled respect and bewilderment.

"Do you play chess,
cherie?"

She smiled benignly. "I can't be certain, but I believe so."

"Fine. After supper we'll have a game. Or two." He paused, rubbing his jaw. "I can hardly wait to find out where you've come from. You are the most unique female I have ever known!"

"Is that a compliment?"

"I suppose it is."

Caro stood up and gazed down at his handsome face for a moment.

"You don't like to be beaten, do you?"

Alec rose and then he was the one looking down; his nearness made her throat constrict. "Let's just say I am not used to losing to beautiful women. However, I am not adverse to learning."

* * *

That night, Caro lay in her deep goose-down bed, listening to the dimming patter of the rain. She had retired over an hour before, but Alec was still in the great room. Remembering his earlier words about losing to women, she couldn't help feeling that any female who attempted to win a victory over him would be disappointed. Although she had put up a good fight in their two chess games, he had still defeated her easily. And afterwards, when they said goodnight, Alec held her elbows and absently ran his hands up her arms. That simple gesture had made her so weak-kneed that she was sure he could see it in her flushed face. As she fell asleep, the image of his chiseled face, concentrating over the chess board, drifted across her mind.

Chapter 6

The next morning, Caro woke early, while the sky was barely rinsing gray. She sat up in her cozy alcove and tried to see outside through the parted window curtains. True to her prediction, the rain had stopped except for a stubborn drizzle. Although her first impulse was to snuggle back into the warm quilts, she felt surprisingly alert.

I'll beat Alec out of bed this day, she told herself as she climbed down the ladder. Somehow, it didn't occur to her that he would be sleeping in the big bed, yet as she padded barefoot across the floor to the wardrobe she saw Alec beyond the bed's parted drapes. His hair was black against the white pillow. Caro could see that he was sleeping soundly and on impulse she reached out to touch his hard-muscled chest. The warmth of his skin caused a wave of emotion to sweep over her. In his sleep, Alec somehow seemed open and accessible, and Caro felt both moved and disturbed by this. Hastily, she turned away to the wardrobe and drew out a clean spice-colored gown and the necessary accessories. After dressing in the children's bedchamber, she brushed her hair and tied it back with a ribbon. She looked fresh and young with her scrubbed face and long glossy curls.

Going into the living room, Caro poked at the glowing embers and added a log. While a pot of coffee brewed, she found a folder of recipes and selected one for "Apple Cornbread." She set to work, peeling and slicing apples. As she mixed the remaining ingredients in a bowl, she tried to imagine the look on Alec's face when he discovered her accomplishment. Finally, turning the batter into a pan, she covered it with the apple slices and cinnamon and put the pan into the roasting kitchen in front of the fire.

Sitting in front of the fire with a cup of coffee, she remembered the giant kettle in the barn and Alec's promise of a bath. She could hardly wait—the mere thought of hot water and a bar of soap was glorious. Deciding to speed things along, she heated a pan of water, found a bar of lye soap, and went out to the barn. She fed Ivan and Molly, who continually gave each other long soulful looks.

"Molly, what about me? Am I no longer first in your heart?" Caro teased. She let them outside then, for the rain had now stopped and the sun was struggling to break through the clouds. Standing on the threshold of the barn, she watched the horses prance up the hillside. Then she took a stiff brush from a hook on the wall and approached the ugly black kettle. It wasn't as filthy as she had feared. Most of the dirt was simply dust and cobwebs.

She worked hard, pouring the water inside and scrubbing vigorously with the brush and strong soap. She was trying to reach the bottom of the kettle with one arm while bracing herself with the other, when she heard the barn door swing closed with a rusty groan. Caro's first thought was that it must be Alec, and she blushed, realizing what a comical sight she must be. She was struggling to get up when a hand grasped her by the hair and pulled her roughly to her feet. She found herself looking across the kettle into narrow yellow eyes that struck an eerie chord in her memory, while the other man who held her hair pulled upward so forcefully that Caro bit her lip to keep from wincing.

The two men stood looking at her as she lifted her chin in instinctive defiance, then they began to converse in German. The man with the yellow eyes was very thin with a cruel-looking mouth. His companion was shorter and much heavier and he licked his lips nervously. They were dressed almost identically in shabby black coats and tricorn hats over dark yellow breeches. Both wore swords, and the fat man's coat was open to reveal some red cloth.

Caro realized that they had to be Hessians, the German mercenary soldiers Alec had told her about. They were talking about her, and the suggestive tone of their voices was unmistakable. The fat man pulled her hair up even higher and pressed his wet lips against her neck. Caro shuddered and gave him a look which she hoped was withering, but both men only laughed, and suddenly the thin one produced an evil-looking knife and held it to her throat. He grinned then, showing stained teeth, and gestured to his companion, who released his hold on Caro's hair, tearing the ribbon away the same time. He put his thick fingers in her curls and she could hear him begin to pant. Somehow, that sound frightened her more than the knife, for then she knew their intent. For an instant, she considered fighting them, but the yellow eyes of the thin man were so inhuman-looking that Caro knew he would not hesitate to kill her. Her only thought was that she wanted to live, no matter what.

During the nightmare of degradation that followed, Caro stared straight ahead, her chin raised in silent defiance. The thin man never took his unsettling eyes from her face, or moved the knife from her throat as his companion pulled off her coat and unfastened the tiny buttons down her bodice with fumbling fingers. She felt her dress being torn from her shoulders, then he was ripping her chemise, and the sound of his rasping breath seemed to fill the entire barn. Caro's eyes burned with tears.

Just as the fat man was clumsily pulling at the waistband of her pantalets, there was a sudden crash as the door of the barn flew open against the wall.

"That will be all, gentlemen. Toss aside that knife," Alec's deep voice rang out.

The thin, yellow-eyed man didn't lower the knife, but his comrade was startled enough to stop pawing Caro and turn slightly. It was just enough time for her to snatch the knife from her captor's hand. Her mind was crowded with incoherent thoughts as the fat man lunged toward her and she thrust the blade into his chest with all the strength she possessed. Then, straightening, she stared down at him in horror, watching as he crumpled to the ground. She didn't seem to notice when the shot rang out that killed the yellow-eyed man.