Moonlight Surrender (Moonlight Book 3) (22 page)

Beth’s eyes narrowed. It seemed a strange question to pose. “Why do you ask?”

He had given the matter some thought over their meal. The sooner they were there, the sooner they would return. He looked at her and longed to hold her in his arms. But he knew that she would not allow it in the open. At least, not yet.

“I thought that since you are in a hurry and I was the one who caused you delay, riding horses to Dover would be much faster than going there by coach.”

Now that she didn’t have to worry about Sylvia’s comfort, the idea of taking horses, rather than a coach,
seemed inspired. She smiled her approval. “Wonderful.
When can we leave?”

He needed to take very little with him. And Samuel knew how to run the manor as well as he. “As soon as you are ready.”

She thought of the gold in the false bottom of her
trunk. She had checked it just after Duncan had left her
room this morning.

“I need but an hour.”

Admiration shone in his eyes. “You are a rare woman.” He slid his hand along the curve of her cheek. “But I already knew that.”

She willed that her heart not beat so quickly at his touch. Her heart refused to obey. “You said there would be no pretense between us.”

Why was it so difficult for her to accept what was true?

“And there is not.” Her hair was held back with pins. He longed to free it, to run his hands through it again. To run his hands along all of her again. “Why Beth, did no one ever give you pretty words before that you deserve?”

Her sisters were the ones men paid court to. She was too much like her father to attract any of them. Not that she wanted their attention. She had no time to simper and roll her eyes and pretend to have no thoughts in her head save the ones that were “seemly.”

And if any had been attracted, the sound of her tongue soon drove them away.

“None but you.”

He nodded knowingly. “Then they are right.”

She had no idea what Duncan was referring to. “About what?”

His mouth curved with teasing pleasure. “When they say that the States are populated by fools. Had I lived near you, I would have given you pretty words each day.”

She had no doubt that they came as easily to him as
breathing. “And meant none of them.”

He toyed with a tendril and watched her eyes grow dark with feeling. It aroused him. It aroused him just to look at her.

“On the contrary, I would have meant every one.”

She refused to be fooled, to make more of it than it was. She was well aware of the only reason for his flattery. “Because they will get you closer to your goal— the inside of my pantaloons.”

He laughed and hugged her to him. She was indeed a rare woman. “Only in part, Beth, but you must admit, it is an admirable goal.”

Beth turned her back on him so that he would not see her blush. “I need to prepare.”

He shook his head as he watched her walk toward the
house. “And it seems that I shall never be prepared enough,” he murmured.

Beth made sure that she did not see him before she hurried to the stables with her saddlebags. She struggled
not to bow under the weight. There were but a few gar
ments within it. The bulk of the space was taken up by the gold she’d brought, the gold she hoped to ransom her father with.

“Here, let me help you.”

Beth jumped when she heard Duncan’s voice behind her. She braced her shoulders. Curse the luck. She had hoped to elude him until she had placed the bags across the horse’s saddle.

“No, ’tis all right.”

The woman was the embodiment of stubbornness.
Anyone could see she was struggling with the bags. He
reached across her and took them up in his hand.

“I can—“ He stopped. The weight caught him unawares and he all but listed to one side. Duncan stared
down at the saddlebags he held. “What manner of cloth
ing did you pack, woman?”

“None of your business.” She tried to snatch the saddlebags from him, but his hand tightened about the leather.

He lifted the flap, curious as to her odd behavior. “I
have seen you without them, surely I can see them with
out you.”

So saying, he plunged his hand in and moved aside
the garments. He felt something hard against his fingers.
Bewildered, he curved his fingers about it and lifted the object out.

The gold bar gleamed in the sunlight.

Chapter Twenty-two

Duncan’s eyes were dark when he lifted them to look at Beth’s face. He saw unease mingled with defiance there. He held the bar up higher.

“What is this?” he demanded.

Beth lifted her chin. She held her ground and had no idea why she felt as if she had done him an injustice. This was not personal; it went beyond what had passed between them earlier.

“Money to ransom my father.”

Duncan dropped the bar into the saddlebag once more. It strained the leather with its weight. His voice was low and all the more frightening for it. His men knew the extent of the anger that boiled just beneath the
lid. It rarely occurred, but when it erupted, it was a fear
some sight to see.

His eyes pinned her. “You weren’t going to tell me about it, were you?”

She felt her pulse quickening, still she could not retreat. It was not him she was afraid of, but something else she could not name. Something in his eyes. “It did not concern you.”

“On the contrary, it concerns me very much.” In disgust, Duncan threw the saddlebags to the ground. The
next moment he swept her up in his hands, his palms bracketing her shoulders. He restrained himself from the
urge to squeeze her between them and vent his anger. “Were you afraid that I was going to steal from you, Beth?”

Bitterness traced his chiseled features until he almost
looked malevolent as he shouted his anger into her face. “Did you think I was going to rob you somewhere along the trail and then abandon you?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She saw the angry, accusing hurt in his eyes, and for reasons beyond her understanding, it stung her heart. Her secrecy was to
safeguard the gold for her father, not to hurt him. Angry
now at his tone, she raised her face to his defiantly, defending her action. At the very least, she had not wanted to place temptation in his path.

She matched him, tone for tone, anger for anger. “You said yourself you were a privateer.”

He could have shaken her until she swooned, but what good would that have done?

“Were, Beth, were. And I told you why I took to that life—because I had no choice. I have a choice now. I have a life now. Somewhat maddeningly tranquil at times, but it is mine by choice.”

Duncan gestured toward the house. “There is nothing that I require that I cannot have here.” His face hardened. Her judgment of him wounded him far more than the highwayman’s discharging pistol ever had. It made no sense to him, but that was the way of it.

“Greed was never in my nature, Beth—except when I look upon you.” For a moment, his hands upon her
softened as he remembered the night. “You are the only
thing that ever aroused my greed, Beth. Wanting you.”

His eyes traveled over her face and he knew he was lost. And a fool. “Having you does not seem to be enough. You prey upon my mind worse now than before.”

And then his anger rose again like a flame in the wind, fueled afresh by the hurt she had done him. His hands tightened on her shoulders so that her very breath was stolen. His eyes were dark, like the sea during a storm at midnight.

For just a moment, she felt herself afraid at what might lay just beyond.

“Do you really think I would steal from you?” He shook her then. “Do you?”

She winced and tried to pull from him. “You are hurt
ing me.”

He released her then, pushing her away from him. She fell back against the horse’s flanks. The bay whinnied in protest. Beth stared at Duncan with stunned eyes.

“No more than you are hurting me,” he whispered harshly. “More fool I.” He turned his back on her and began to stride away from the stable.

She had wronged him, she thought. Dear God, she had wronged him. It flashed across her mind like a bolt of lightning creasing the brow of the sky.

“Duncan, wait.”

He stopped, though he knew he was being a dunderhead for doing so. Waging a battle with his common sense, Duncan remained where he was. But he did not turn around to face her.

“Why?”

She desperately searched for words that would make
him understand and not take offense. She had not only
wronged him, but she knew now that she was wrong. If
he had wanted to take the gold from her, he would have
done so now, not cast it aside and walked away.

“Place yourself for a moment in my position.” She drew a long, shaky breath. “Pretend you are a woman, not a ‘mere’ woman,” she repeated his words to him, smiling nervously to herself, “but a woman nonetheless.”

She watched his shoulders. Anger was not holding them as stiffly now as it had a moment ago. She hurried to continue.

“A woman who, in all probability, is all that stands
between her father and eternity. You have with you enough gold to purchase his freedom, if that is what is required.” She licked her lips, remembering him as he was last night. “And suddenly, there appears on the horizon a golden-maned, golden-tongued ex-privateer, with the devil in his eyes and honey on his lips.”

Beth thought of the passion that had exploded between them, of tasting his lips. “A man who has turned your head, made your body rebel, and dissolved your very limbs with his touch.”

Her voice grew quiet. “But you know nothing of him
save what he has told you, and all these could be lies. Would you trust him with your father’s life?”

Duncan turned around slowly, his temper suddenly cooled as a blacksmith’s hot iron plunged into a bucket of water.

“You trusted me with your body.”

She swallowed as he took a step toward her. “I had no choice.”

Did she really think that? Their hearts had met for a brief instant. Could she now not see into his? “You always had a choice, even at the end.”

She was not well versed in men, but there had been stories she had heard. What manner of man was he, to be so different?

Beth lifted a brow. “I did?”

He laid his hands on her and the touch was as gentle
now as it had been rough before. It grieved him that she
winced, bracing herself, before her shoulders were lax once more. That was no one’s fault but his.

“Did you think I would take you like some rutting
sheepherder if you said no?”

She smiled ruefully. “The time for ‘no’ was before my clothes were gone.” No man would have held back after that.

Duncan curved his fingers along her arms. “You could always have said no.”

Beth looked at him in wonder. “And you would have
listened?”

He laughed softly. “Torn out my hair, perhaps, and railed. But I would have listened.”

Beth looked into his eyes and saw that he spoke the
truth. Truly he was an unusual man. Her heart softened
immeasurably. She pressed her lips together.

“I’m sorry, Duncan. I should have trusted you.”

Now that she relented, he allowed himself to see it all
through her eyes. “No, you are right, you do not know anything of me, save what I have said.”

No, there was more to it than that. Signs she should have noted. “I have seen the way your men look at you as if you were a god.”

False praise he held suspect. True praise made him uncomfortable. He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “Ex-privateers as well.”

Beth shook her head. “Not the women. Not the old ones.” She laced her hands together. “This is hard for me, Duncan—very, very hard.” She looked down at the saddlebags nestled in the newly scattered straw. “I do not trust easily and I am afraid for my father’s life. My mind is not clear. I no longer know which path to take.”

Duncan put out his hand to her. “The one beside me, Beth.” She placed her hand in his. “For I know the best route.”

Releasing her, Duncan walked over and picked up her saddlebags. The weight was more than passingly heavy. “We need divide this between us, Beth, ‘lest your horse
become swaybacked before we reach our destination.”

Crossing to his horse, he patted the dark stallion’s muzzle.

“And we will have need of swift horses before this is
over. For I have heard dire things about what goes on in
France.” He looked at her and wondered how much she
knew of the horrors that were rumored. “I mean no offense to your ancestors, Beth, but these French peasants are a mad lot. They cry for freedom, yet they strip it from anyone in their path they do not like.”

He opened his own saddlebags and transferred several
of the bars from hers into it. The others he left untouched.

But as he placed the saddlebags across her horse’s saddle, he looked down at Beth’s face. His heart quickened. He did not want to risk her.

“Are you sure, Beth? Are you very, very sure?”

She gave him a brave smile and nodded. There was no turning back for her.

“Yes.”

Duncan expected no less from her. She was stubborn, honorable, and foolhardy—always a dangerous combination. It served heroes well, but made life difficult for the rest.

He draped an arm about her shoulders. “Well, then,
we will be off within the hour.” He guided her from the
stable and toward the house. “Come, I have a few last things to settle. And Amy is packing provisions for us. Hunting along the way may not be easy.”

And like as not, they would probably become the hunted before long, he thought.

Beth turned in surprise. Jacob hailed Duncan as he
rushed toward him in the stable. A saddlebag upon his
slender shoulder, Jacob looked ready for travel, same as they.

Jacob hurried to the horse the stableboy had saddled for him and placed his saddlebags across the horse’s rump. “I have everything as you asked, Duncan.”