Forever Ashley (13 page)

And Ashley was only too happy to be able to give it to
Rachel Revere. It was a minuscule repayment for a lovely dinner, unflagging
kindness, and a gloriously clean dress.

Chapter
Seven

The ride back to the Black Goat was bone chilling, the night
dark and cold with a threat of rain in the air. Ashley’s teeth were chattering
by the time they reached the inn even though Aaron had stopped halfway back to
insist that she wear his coat.

The tavern was filled with the usual rowdies as Aaron and
Ashley threaded their way through the smoky room.

“Aye, gov’nor! You’ve not had your fill of the doxy?” one
man jested loudly.

“Back again, aye, Doc?”

Aaron smiled, waving away the men’s ribald comments. He
moved Ashley determinedly toward the narrow staircase.

“And a fine hello to you, too.” Ashley muttered beneath her
breath.

Aaron rested his hand on the small of her back as they
climbed the steps. The room they were sharing was even smaller than Ashley
remembered. The bed seemed to dominate the room tonight. The more she was with
Kenneman, the more acutely aware she was of what an alluring man he was. If
circumstances were different, she might find him extremely desirable.

After closing the door, Aaron tossed the key on the dresser.
Ashley walked to the rocker and sat down, her eyes drifting shut with fatigue
as he struck a flint to the linen wick lying in the shallow, metal,
grease-filled dish. She was so tired her hair hurt. She was desperate for
sleep, yet she couldn’t bear the thought of spending another night in the
chair.

“Has anyone decided what they’re going to do with me?” She
pulled the clip from her hair, then ran her fingers over her scalp, basking in
the relief the motion provided.

When Aaron didn’t answer, she opened her eyes to confront
him. “Well?”

He had seated himself on the bed and was beginning to remove
his boots. She could see that he planned to ignore the question.

“Are we going to play let’s not answer Ashley again?”

After tossing the second boot aside, he reached inside his
coat pocket for a smoke. “It has been decided.”

She sat up straighten “It has?” Her pulse quickened. “When?”

“This afternoon.”

“At the Green Dragon?”

“Yes.”

Ashley wasn’t aware that the men had discussed her plight.
She thought they had been talking about the British again. Her eyes narrowed.
Oh, they were so sneaky. She thought she had heard everything they’d said, but
apparently she hadn’t.

“What are they going to do with me?”

Her heart was hammering now. Had they decided to hang her?
Or worse, were they going to subject her to a ducking stool where passersby
could throw objects or insults at her? She glanced at Aaron. No, he wouldn’t
permit them to do that to her—would he?

“It is nothing for you to be concerned about,” he said
quietly.

“Nothing for me to be concerned about!” Ashley scrambled to
her feet and began pacing. Nothing for her to be concerned about! “What are you
planning to do with me?”

“Wring your troublesome neck like a Sunday chicken.” Aaron
stood up and moved to the window, trying to cover his amusement. She had been a
disreputable looking sight when Warren had rescued her from the jail.
Laughable, actually, if she hadn’t been so ill. Dirty, pale from the dose of
puke, the spunk had been momentarily taken out of her. But she had quickly
regained her spirit. He would have to watch her even more closely or she would
be sure to attempt another ill-advised escape.

His features sobered as he stared down on the darkened
street. His orders were to return Ashley Wheeler to Gage at first light, in any
form he deemed suitable. The muscle in his jaw pulsed as he thought about the
responsibility he’d been assigned. He could kill her swiftly— which could prove
to be messy and not particularly to his liking—or he could return her to Gage
unharmed but knowing she knew more than she should about the colonists’ plan to
thwart the British. The choice, as well as the consequences of error, would be
solely his. He frowned, knowing that he had already made his choice. He would
see that no harm came to her.

Ashley suddenly stopped pacing and turned to face him. “I
demand to know what you plan to do.”

Aaron walked to the table, lifted the betty lamp, and lit
his smoke.

“Are you going to...kill me?” she asked softly.

His eyes met hers. "You are not to concern yourself
with fate. Whatever my plans, you cannot alter them.” There it was again, that
strange irrepressible urge to protect her when she looked at him with her
innocent, wide eyes. Forget her, Kenneman. The matter is out of your hands.

Sinking back onto the chair, Ashley swallowed the lump of
fear crowding her throat, her mind churning. If she was to be done away with,
it would have to be soon. Paul Revere was fated to make his famous ride the
following night.

Seeing her distress, Aaron rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Sleep, little one.”

Ashley stood and moved woodenly toward the bed. If this was
to be her last night, she planned to spend it sleeping in a real bed. After
throwing back the coverlet, she crawled wearily between the rough sheets. “You
might as well sleep with me,” she offered quietly.

Aaron’s hand paused on the way to his mouth for another draw
off his smoke.

Drawing the pillow over her head, Ashley wondered if she
should have phrased the offer differently. She wasn’t inviting him to “sleep
with her,” only to share the bed. There was no reason for both of them to lose
another night’s sleep. The way it sounded, they would both need their strength
come morning.

Aaron was annoyed to see his hand begin to shake. Was she
actually inviting him to her bed? He couldn’t go—he couldn’t sleep with a spy.

He turned to stare out of the window again.

“Are you coming to bed?”

He stiffened as her muffled voice penetrated his thoughts.
“Not now.”

“You’d better, it’s getting very late.”

Then again, he thought, who would know if he momentarily
succumbed to her charm? Perhaps on the morrow he could take her to the Anglican
clergy and entrust her to their safekeeping until he could best decide her
fate. Once there, she would be out of the way, properly provided for, and he
could be assured that she would not be carrying information back to Gage.

His gaze traveled back to her shapely form lying beneath the
blanket. No reasonable man would condemn him for so small and meaningless a
lapse of discretion, so why not seize the opportunity to pass the hours until
dawn in a most pleasurable diversion?

Half asleep, Ashley felt the straw ticking move a moment
later as Aaron eased between the sheets beside her.

“Don’t take your half out of the middle,” she murmured
drowsily.

“What?”

“Don’t hog the middle of the bed.”

Aaron lay back, frowning. Hog the middle of the bed? Was she
now implying that he was a swine? She was a puzzling wench! He settled beneath
the blanket, patiently waiting for her to make the first advance. Since she had
suggested the romp, he would let her seize the initiative.

When several minutes had passed and the expected overture
failed to materialize, he edged closer.

Ashley’s eyes opened slowly as she felt his arm circle her.

“You are a winsome noodle,” he whispered, his breath
tickling her ear. “Your invitation was unexpected, but I concede it will be a
most pleasant diversion,” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck.

Sitting up, she slapped him hard.

Stunned, he moved his hand to his cheek as he sat up and
glared back at her. “What was that for?”

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“But...you invited me into the bed,” he accused.

“To sleep, not to fool around!”

“Fool around?” Aaron was not acquainted with the strange
parlance. “What does this expression, ‘fool around,’ mean?”

“It means you struck out. Now, if you want to live until
morning—” Ashley dropped back onto the pillow and jerked the blanket tightly
back in place, “—stay on your own side.”

“’Twould be a pleasure!" He snatched the blanket to him
as he rolled to his side. ‘Twas a rare time Aaron Kenneman “struck out.”
Whatever that meant.

She yanked the blanket back.

He grabbed it away again.

Exasperated, she hauled it back and rolled into it.

The room grew quiet as the two surly inhabitants of the bed
tried to sleep. An hour passed, a restless hour spent tossing and turning.

“Aaron?”

Aaron tensed as her voice broke into his semiconscious
state. “What?”

“Do you have someone you care about?” Ashley knew a man as
attractive as Aaron Kenneman must have someone he cared about, who cared about
him. Yet somehow she hoped he wasn’t involved. If he said he was, she would
feel oddly betrayed somehow, and that she knew was ridiculous. “A girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

Ashley sighed, realizing that communication between them was
at a strong disadvantage. “You know, a female friend...a regular female
companion you see frequently?”

“‘Tis none of your concern.” He shifted to his side, his
male ego still sorely wounded from her rebuff.

Just as stubborn, Ashley wiggled closer to her side of the
bed to keep from touching him. “‘Tis too. If we have to be stuck with each
other, what’s wrong with knowing something about each other?”

"Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t, but since neither one of us can sleep, what can
it hurt? We don’t have to discuss anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

When he was still silent, she nudged him with her toe. “What
about it?”

“What about what?”

“Do you have a lady friend?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Unless someone has given me one and I’m not aware of it, I
don’t have.”

She lay staring into the darkness, wondering if he was
telling the truth. There was something in the tone of his voice that made her
skeptical. “But you did have.”

When he failed to respond, she poked him with her toe again.
“Didn’t you?”

“Do I have a female companion that I see frequently?”

“Yes?”

“No.”

“But did you have?” Men had not changed a wit in the last
two hundred years. Women still had to drag answers out of them.

“At one time,” he finally conceded.

“What happened?”

“We aren’t going to discuss anything personal.”

“What’s so personal about wanting to know just a little
about the girl you saw on frequent occasions?”

“We had a disagreement.”

Curious now, Ashley rolled onto her back. He was so close
she could feel the warmth of his body, and she decided she liked the feeling.
After all, he was an attractive man, and she felt protected when she was with
him, even though she didn’t have the slightest idea what morning would bring.
“What’s she like?” she asked softly.

He was silent for so long Ashley thought he wasn’t going to
answer again. When he finally broke the silence, it was as if he was speaking
to himself. “She’s lovely. Like you.”

Ashley smiled at the ambiguous compliment. So, his heart
belonged to another, she thought, and wondered why the admission would bring
about such an ache of longing inside her. Propping up on her elbow, she gazed
at him. “How did you meet?”

“We’ve known each other since we were children,” he said
quietly.

“And you loved her?”

“We were to be married.”

“What happened?”

“My duties kept me away much of the time. As a doctor, it is
necessary for me to be available no matter what the day or hour. Quite often my
life isn’t my own. There were too many times in my work that prevented me from
escorting her to various social events she thought important to us both, and
she soon despaired that I would ever be available to share in her life.”

Ashley flushed, only too aware that she had broken her
engagement to Joel for precisely the same reason. It was uncanny the way their
lives seemed to parallel.

Aaron’s arm bumped hers as he rolled onto his back and laced
his fingers behind his head. He gazed into the darkness, surprised that he
could talk so easily about Anna now. “There was always a valid reason why I
couldn’t be with her. My work, loyalty to my country...Anna was patient at
first, then she...” His voice faded. “She was right to break the engagement,”
he conceded

Ashley found his hand in the darkness and squeezed it. “I’m
sure the decision was very painful for her.”

“Mayhap. But I should have taken more time with her.”

“Is it too late?”

“I don’t know...this war with England seems to be going on
and on and on.” Frustration was evident in his voice now, and he pushed his
fingers through his hair. “It never stops. As soon as one problem is corrected,
there are two more to take its place. We cannot allow England to own us! We are
not indentured to the British. We cannot permit ourselves to assume the burden
of supporting another nation. We are to conduct our own lives, and conduct them
as we see fit. We will persevere,” he vowed.

Turning onto her side, she rested her hand against his
chest. “Don’t worry, you will,” she whispered. “You must continue to fight and
you will win, in the end.”

Compelled by the conviction in her voice, he caught her
hand, holding it tightly. “How can you make such predictions when you know
nothing of the future?”

“But I do know the future,” she returned softly. Their gazes
met in the darkness, and though she couldn’t see into his eyes, she knew the
confusion she would find there.

"Who are you?” he whispered.

“Would you believe me if I told you?”

“I’m not sure...yet I will try.”

“I’m not really crazy, you know.”

His lips curved with a wry smile. “I admit that at times
that is difficult to believe.”

She smiled, aware that she’d done some pretty crazy things
since this had all started. As the silence lengthened, Ashley sensed that he
was tom by loyalty yet consumed with curiosity. He was a smart man. He knew the
things she did and said were peculiar, yet she had caught the look of interest
in his eyes each time she had prophesied the future.