Married At Midnight (35 page)

make himself scarce in a hurry." Lifting a hand, he gestured to a deputy.

"Take some men and ride around town to see if you can find that rascal. I'll be along as soon as Fridrich here lets me have

a look-see through this here place."

Gustav sneered in contempt. "And if I do not, you vill arrest me, eh? It vould seem I have no choice but to let you. Still, I should varn you, Sheriff, that I vill hold you personally responsible if anyzhing goes missing. Do you understand?"

"I'll let you search me and my men before we leave," Townsend assured him with a laconic grin.

"Do you even know vhat you are looking for?" Gustav inquired with disdain.

The sheriff lifted his broad shoulders in a casual shrug. "Anything at all that you can't verify ownership of with lading bills or papers of charter."

"You vill see zhat my papers are in order, Sheriff."

"Good! Then maybe I won't have to arrest you."

Sweltering heat had settled over the countryside with unusual tenacity, and without a whisper of air stirring, a murky haze

hung over the land, holding the heat close above the ground. Jeff and Brandon reached Oakley nigh the noon hour and were nearly spent from the long, hot ride and the night they had passed without sleep.

They dismounted in the lane near the front steps of the mansion and wearily yielded the reins to a groom, who led their horses away. Heather had been watching from

the house and came out on the porch to greet them. Wiping her hands on an apron she had tied above her swollen belly, she glanced from one to the other apprehensively.

"You two don't look very happy," she ventured worriedly. "Is it the heat? Or are you distressed about something else?"

Brandon mounted the steps and brushed a reassuring kiss upon her brow. "We won't have to bury anyone, sweet, if that's

what you mean."

Heather released a sigh of relief. "No need to tell you both how we've all been fretting. I thought Cora and Kingston would wear out the floorboards going to the windows to watch for Jeff's return. Still, 'tis apparent the two of you are put out about something, and since I'm not a mind-reader, I guess you'll have to tell me what it is."

Jeff slapped his hat against his booted leg as he climbed to the porch. "It didn't go as well as we had hoped, Tory. That's all."

The pet name, which Jeff had pinned on her years before, lacked the usual teasing lilt, giving her further cause to chafe with uneasiness. "What happened?"

Jeff exhaled a long, wearied breath and shrugged. " 'Tis simple enough, really. Sheriff Townsend couldn't find an iron-clad reason to arrest Gustav. The man had a signed receipt from Cooper Frye affirming the fact that he had paid two hundred fifty dollars for Raelynn. When he sent for her, ol' Coop told the man that I had stolen her away. Gustav rode out here, intending to get her back, and Townsend agreed that it would have been his right if I hadn't bought her first. As for trying to prove Gustav is a smuggler, all of his papers appeared to be in order. Townsend questions their validity, but his hands are tied."

"But you were shot in your own home!" Heather protested. "Couldn't Sheriff Townsend arrest Gustav for trying to kill you?"

Jeff shook his head. "He wasn't the one who shot me, and Gustav's men claimed before they ever came out here that they

were given orders not to shoot anyone. It seems Gustav had meant to intimidate me by the sheer number of men he brought with him and thought I would give him Raelynn without a fight."

"He didn't know you very well, did he?" Brandon observed with a rueful chuckle.

"But what about the young man who actually shot you?" Heather queried. "Why couldn't the sheriff arrest him?"

Her husband laughed again, with even less humor. "You won't believe this, my sweet, but Olney disappeared right from under our very noses."

"What do you mean, disappeared?" Heather's lovely brows gathered in confusion. "Did he escape?"

Jeff's smile was a trifle grim, and he shook his head, as perplexed as she was. "Olney was gone before any of us realized it.

All the windows were barred, and our men stood guard at the doors. No one could have left the warehouse without being seen. There were so many men inside, it was hard to keep track of everyone.

Townsend was talking to Gustav at the time,

and the next thing any of us knew, Olney had gone missing. There were crates stacked in the main warehouse, too many for Townsend to thoroughly examine when he conducted his search for smuggled items, but whatever open crates he found, he

had them checked."

Heather's brows came together in a troubled frown. "The fact that Gustav is still free will not sit well with Raelynn. I had some difficulty convincing her that you would be all right, Jeff, and that she should get some rest before your return, but when she hears this news, she may never sleep again, and I wouldn't blame her in the least."

"Don't borrow trouble, my love," Brandon cajoled, turning his wife to face him. He touched her lips with a soft kiss and

stroked a hand over her rounded belly as he admired the fetching aura of her childbearing state. "You wouldn't want to

upset our unborn daughter with your worrying, now would you?"

Heather smiled and yielded readily to his gentle fondling until she glanced past him and noticed her brother-in-law watching them with a merry twinkle brightening his eyes. Blushing, she hurriedly pushed away from her husband and busied herself straightening her apron. A chuckle from Jeff drew Brandon's attention and lent some insight to her sudden reserve.

"Don't mind me, Tory," Jeff urged. "I didn't see a thing." He crossed to the front door and paused there to grin back at the couple. "At least, nothing I haven't seen my brother doing before."

Chuckling at his remark, Brandon laid an arm again about Heather's shoulders and whisked her along with him as he walked into the house. When they entered the hall, they found Jeff already leaping up the stairs, and they smiled at each other, understanding his eagerness.

"Madam, I believe it's time for us to go home," Brandon said thoughtfully. "By now, Beau must be wondering where his

parents are. And I think Jeff has designs on going to bed ... if Raelynn is agreeable, that is. For that matter, I wouldn't mind going to bed either, once we're at home."

Heather sympathized with her husband, knowing he hadn't slept at all during the night just past. She brushed a damp curl

from his brow and noticed that his face was rather flushed. "You must be exhausted, but you'll have to sleep in one of the

lower bedrooms to find any relief from this heat."

"Who said anything about sleep?" he queried with a meaningful gleam in his eyes.

Heather's lips curved upward as her deep sapphire eyes glowed with love. "Forgive me, my dearest. I thought you were tired and not feeling very well. You do look rather feverish."

"Feverish for you, madam," Brandon breathed, placing another kiss on her lips. "And you ought to know by now that I'm

never too tired for what we do best together."

When he reached the upper landing, Jeff strode down the hallway to his right until he reached his bedroom door. There he paused to listen, but no sound of movement came from within. Quietly turning the knob, he pushed the door slowly inward,

not at all certain that Raelynn would be there. What he found delighted him. His young wife was slumbering peacefully on the far side of his bed with her long auburn hair reaching out behind her in shimmering waves across his pillows. His heart quickened with an overwhelming joy and a variety of other inexplicable emotions.

Strange how different his feelings were now that he had a wife to come home to, he mused, reflecting back on the nights

when he had gone to bed with a book to read, hoping to banish that damnable, pathetic sense of solitude that had plagued

him. Indeed, this heady felicity was a far more pleasing concoction than he could have ever imagined it would be. Mrs. Brewster was right, he decided emphatically, recalling the previous day when the milliner had urged him to make haste to marry. Nothing was quite as tiresome as coming home to an empty house and an even lonelier bed. But that was all behind

him now. He had a beautiful wife awaiting him.

Leaning forward, Jeff reached out to awaken his young bride, but the sight of his own gunpowder-
i
blackened hands made h

im draw back in repugnance. This would never do! He was filthy, hot, and sweaty! She was fresh, clean, and as sweet-smelling as jasmine in bloom. He could not think of intruding into her sleep while the acrid stench of black powder was still pungent in his nostrils. Their first moment of blissful union had to be perfect in every sense of the word.

Leaving his shirt and trousers hanging over the door of his armoire, he moved quietly across the room to his dressing chamber. The servants brought water for a bath, and after their departure, he sank into the brimming tub with a deep sigh of appreciation. For a moment he leaned his head back against the raised rim and closed his eyes, feeling the warm liquid relax his tense muscles, then he realized the folly of getting too comfortable. He was too exhausted to stay awake.

Ending his bath, he toweled himself dry and quietly returned to his bed where he stretched out beside his sleeping wife. His lack of sleep weighed him down both mentally and physically, and he knew that to make the moment of their intimacy the best it could be, he would have to rest for at least a few moments to revive both his mind and his energy.

* * *

Gustav came awake with a start as quietly approaching footsteps intruded into his sleep. His eyes flew wide, and like a man half-crazed with fear, he searched into the gloom of his warehouse apartment, unable to shake the lingering effects of the laudanum he had taken. With an effort he focused his gaze on the shadowy figure of a man standing a discreet distance from his bed, and the cold prickling panic finally dissipated, leaving in its stead a weak feeling of relief as he realized the man was not the sheriff, but Olney Hyde.

"Vhere have you been?" Gustav growled gruffly.

Olney flashed him a confident grin. "I thought you might enjoy a visit from an old friend."

"Ha!" Gustav threw up his good hand in disgust. "If not for you, I vould be in one piece now. And I vouldn't have zhat sheriff breathing down my neck, vatching every move my men make! I should never have shown you zhat secret passage. Otherwise, I vould now have the pleasure of knowing zhe sheriff had locked you away."

Olney pressed a hand to his breast, making much of the other's disparagement. "And here I've been tearing the whole of Charleston apart trying to find a suitable bauble to bring back to ye." With a wily grin he tugged sharply on the rope he held, rudely yanking the large bulk of Cooper Frye forward into the light. A filthy rag had been stuffed into the Englishman's mouth, and another one, tied around the lower part of his face, secured it in place.

"I found him hidin' out in a henhouse on the waterfront," Olney explained. "He was plannin' on sailing to New York before

the week is out. He even paid one of the strumpets to make all the arrangements for him so he wouldn't be seen by any of

our men."

Gustav relaxed back into his pillows and smiled gloatingly at the Englishman. "You vere very foolish, my friend, for cheating

me. No man makes a fool of Gustav Fridrich and lives to tell of it. It is not so much the money, you understand. It is zhe loss

of your niece I resent. I vould have made her
mein frau,
but now, she belongs to Herr Birmingham, and he vill not give her

up unless I kill him. But if I do, zhe vench vould never forgive me."

Cooper Frye shook his head frantically and gestured to the gag in his mouth. Then pleadingly he pressed his fettered hands together.

"Vhat's this?" Gustav queried mockingly, amused by the man's pantomime. "Vould you like to speak before I let Olney take you out and dump your foul carcass in the ocean?"

Eagerly Cooper nodded, and with affected boredom Gustav flicked his hand casually toward him, giving

Olney permission to remove his gag.

"Now, vhat do you have to say zhat's so important, eh?" the German inquired arrogantly. "I varn you, vhatever it is, it better

be vorth my time."

Cooper Frye was more than willing to cooperate. "I knows of a way ta make me niece hate the Yankee an' send her runnin' back ta ye. An' I wouldn't charge ye a bloomin' farthin' for makin' it all 'appen."

Gustav raised a brow sharply as he regarded the Englishman with narrowed eyes. "I vouldn't like you to do anyzhing zhat

vould bring the sheriff back here again. My affairs are of a most delicate nature, and I vould not have zhem disrupted again

by zhat rude barbarian."

Cooper Frye chortled and shook his head. "This 'ere idea o' mine wouldn't involve the sheriff none at all.

Ye see, I met this

'ere girl... ten an' five years at the most she be, small an' pretty wit' bright gold hair...."

"Get on vith it!" Gustav interrupted impatiently.

"Well, this 'ere Nell cooks an' sews for the ladies at the brothel, an' we did some talkin' whilst the strumpets were entertainin' the gents. Nigh on ta nine months ago she was workin' at Oakley, sewin'

sheets an' linens wit' all 'em fine, fancy initials like her poor dead mother taught her ta do. Whilst she was there, this Nell got real caught on that Birmingham gent, even slipped inta his bed one night whilst he was sleepin' and got him all hot and ready for her, but when the bugger woke up, he started rantin' an' ravin'

'bout how she weren't 'ardly old enuff ta know 'bout such things. He told her ta pack up her belongin's

'cause he couldn't trust her ta leave him be if'n he let her stay. Right then and there in the dead o' night, he woke his driver an' sent her

off ta Charleston in his carriage. He told his man ta make sure she had a room at the inn for a brace o'

nights and gave her the money she'd earned from sewin'. Beyond that, he says to her, he wants never ta see her at Oakley 'gain long as he lives."

Gustav jeered as he ridiculed Cooper's reasoning. "So! You say zhis vill make your niece hate Herr Birmingham? Your

pardon, Englishman, but I do not zhink much of your logic. Raelynn vill only admire her husband zhe more."

Grinning with unmeasurable confidence, Cooper Frye lifted his tethered hands and scratched his bristly cheek with a grubby finger. "Not if'n she's led to believe the little twit is carryin' his babe."

Gustav's interest was considerably heighten by the idea. "Vhat vould cause Raelynn to zhink such a zhing?"

Cooper extended his rope-bound wrists to his captor with a hopeful grin. "Cut me free, and I'll be tellin'

ye gents."

Olney glanced at the German to receive a consenting nod, then drew his knife and sliced through the bonds that bound the Englishman's wrists.

"Give an ear ta what I've got ta tell ye, me friend," Cooper urged Gustav, " 'bout a tall, dark-haired, green-eyed Irishman

what took the little wench inta his bed at the inn an' got her wid babe afore he set sail the next morn'n. It

just happened to

be the very same night Mr. Birmingham kicked her outa his, it were, close to nine months ago."

Gustav arched a brow as he considered the merits of the idea. "Vhat vould it take to get zhis Nell to say zhat Herr

Birmingham is zhe father of her babe?"

Cooper Frye lifted his massive shoulders in a careless shrug. "Maybe a few pretty gowns ta wear and five hundred Yankee dollars, just a little somethin' ta make it better for her an' the babe when it comes."

Gustav fixed the other man with an icy stare. "And vhat vould yu have me do for you, Cooper Frye, other than allowing you

to live?"

The Englishman knew when to be cautious. "I wish only ta serve ye, yer lordship."

Gustav smiled with meager toleration. "Zhat's good, Cooper Frye, because you vill do just zhat... and you vill prove your loyalty to me ... or die."