Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (55 page)

Alanna reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm not, although you may have been better off with a Seneca maid, who would already know how to cook your favorite dishes." She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and his response was so enthusiastic that when the maid knocked at their door, it took them a long moment to break apart. Hunter stepped behind the screen in the corner and remained concealed, until the maid had finished lugging in the tub, pails of hot water, and left.

"I've never given a woman a bath. May I help you?" Hunter then asked.

Alanna had been managing her own baths for a very long time, but the prospect of having his help was so appealing, she smiled invitingly, "Yes, that would be nice. I wish the tub were large enough to hold us both."

"I'm used to bathing in the river, but I can make a big wooden tub for you, when we get back home. Would you like that?"

"Yes, I would." She placed her hands over his as he unfastened the buttons on her bodice. "I'd rather not put on this dress again. They're going to send up our supper. Would you mind if I dined in my nightgown?"

"Not if it will save me time getting you into bed."

"Are you always so bold, sir?" Alanna had responded to his suggestion in the same teasing tone in which it had been given, but he looked startled rather than amused, and she realized there was no question about his boldness with Melissa. Loath to mention her cousin, she turned away and began to peel off her dress.

"I do hope there'll be time enough to bathe before supper arrives. The clerk praised the cook's talents, but I suppose that's to be expected."

Alanna opened her valise and removed her nightgown before slipping out of her dress. Hunter knew why she had changed the subject. Equally unwilling to speak Melissa's name, he walked over to the window and looked out until she was seated in the tub. He wanted only the two of them to occupy the room, and he didn't kneel down beside the tub until he had successfully banished all thoughts, save those of his bride.

He lathered up the soap and washed her shoulder. "You have freckles now from running around in your chemise. Look, they're sprinkled all the way down your arm."

"They'll soon fade."

"I hope not. I like them."

"They aren't considered ladylike."

"You've done a great many things which aren't ladylike, since meeting me," Hunter reminded her. "Having a few freckles is the least of them."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Alanna leaned back to get more comfortable, and closed her eyes. "Do all Seneca braves spoil their wives as shamefully as you're spoiling me?"

Hunter leaned close to kiss the hollow of her shoulder.

"Why do you ask? Do you want another Seneca for a husband?"

"I can't even imagine myself being married to another man."

"Good, don't even try." Hunter slid his soapy caress down her arm and across her breasts, slowly circling the pale tips and flicking them with his thumb, until they formed pert buds. Alanna opened one eye, but his smile silenced any protests she might have been about to make, and he moved his hand down her ribs.

"You're much too thin," he lamented softly. He deliberately let the bar of soap slip through his fingers, and had to pull off his shirt to keep from wetting the sleeve, as he felt between her legs to retrieve it. In a playful mood, he did not really look for the soap until Alanna reached down to grab his wrist.

"I thought you wanted to give me a bath?"

"That's what I'm doing."

"No, it isn't." Alanna leaned forward to kiss him, and his passionate response made any further complaint about his methods too trivial to mention.

Hunter wound Alanna's long curls around his left hand to keep her mouth pressed to his, while he continued to tease her with his right. Made slippery by the soap, his fingertips slid over her inner creases and folds in an exotic dance that played upon her senses, until she shuddered beneath him in an ageless gesture of complete surrender. He sat back and waited patiently, but she didn't speak until the bathwater had grown cold.

"If we'd been in the river, I would have drowned."

"I'd not have let you drown," Hunter assured her. Pausing often to give loving hugs, he helped her to her feet, wrapped her in a towel, and then slipped the white cotton nightgown over her head.

Alanna could not help but wonder if he would respond in the same fashion if she were to bathe him with such an intimate caress, but the maid knocked at the door before she could make that suggestion. Hunter again stepped behind the screen, but the girl saw his buckskin shirt lying on the foot of the bed.

"I see your husband's here, ma'am. I'll tell the cook to fix your tray."

Alanna followed the maid's glance, but because buckskins weren't worn exclusively by Indian braves, she felt no need to explain her husband's choice of attire. "Would you please?" She moved aside as the girl emptied and removed the tub, then closed the door behind her.

"Do you really think you still need to hide?"

Hunter crossed to the window, but while they had been playing in her bath, it had grown dark, and there was nothing to see but the glow of the street lamps in the distance. "Do you remember how you ran from me?"

"I've begged you to forgive me for that."

Hunter sat down on the windowsill. "I have, but for all we know, that maid also lost her family in an Indian raid. Let's not give her any reason to go shrieking from the room."

Alanna toyed with the lace trim on her cuffs. Hunter had told her that he had not killed anyone before fighting with the militia in the Ohio Valley, and she wanted to believe him. His expression was the honest, open one she had come to expect from him, and certain he was wholly good, she quickly forced away the gruesome images his comment had brought to mind.

"You'd be with me. I'm sure that would make the fact that you know how to behave as a gentleman plain."

"Last spring, I was with Byron and Elliott, but that failed to convince you I was worth knowing."

"Yes, I know. I was very rude."

"No, you were merely frightened. I'm being very rude now to remind you of it."

Another knock at the door announced the arrival of their supper, and while Hunter chose to stay out of sight, Alanna took the tray from the maid, rather than again invite the girl into the room. There was a small table in the corner, and she placed it there. They had been sent a huge bowl of beef stew, a loaf of bread still warm from the oven, butter, half a dozen apricot tarts, and a pitcher of ale.

"This all looks very good. I know you don't drink ale, and I should have asked for something else for you, water at least."

"The water here tastes like it came from a ship's bilge. I'm better off with nothing." Hunter came to her side and set the ale and goblets on the table. He then picked up the tray, carried it over to the bed, and placed it in the middle. "Let's eat here rather than at the table. We'll be more comfortable."

Alanna had no objection to making a picnic of their supper, and when he climbed up on the foot of the bed, she took her place opposite him. She scooped up a plate of stew for him, and then fixed one for herself while he sliced the bread. They had eaten so many meals together, that they fell into a comfortable routine, and served each other without waiting to be asked.

"Among the Seneca, we eat only one meal each day, and that's in the morning. Men and boys are served first, and when they are finished, the women and girls eat together."

"What happens if the men are so hungry, they don't leave enough for the women to eat?"

"Food is always so plentiful that doesn't happen, but if it did, the women would simply cook more. They'd not go hungry. Whatever the women leave, goes into a clay pot that's kept on the embers of the cooking fire. If anyone is hungry later, they help themselves."

"With just the two of us, I hope you don't want to dine separately."

Alanna was looking down at her plate rather than up at him, but Hunter could sense her confusion. "You're not an Indian girl, Alanna. I'll never expect you to act like one. Besides, I would get very lonely eating all by myself. I'd much rather we shared our meals, as we always have."

"You'd tell me if there were something you'd like me to do, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but you must ask me, too. Don't worry that because I'm Indian, I'll always say no. I'll do whatever I can to make you happy."

Alanna looked up at him, her green eyes filled with a skeptical glint. Her only wish was to raise Christian, but he already knew that. He had grown increasingly considerate, but had not once mentioned his son. Keeping to her original plan not to discuss the boy until Hunter had had the opportunity to see him, she kept quiet about him now.

"Thank you, but you're already a wonderful husband."

Not convinced of that, Hunter worried that she was merely flattering him. "Do you think a woman ought to flatter her husband?" he asked.

"Only if he deserves it," Alanna replied, "and you do."

"We've not been married even one day," Hunter reminded her. "Perhaps you should wait a week or two, before you make such a decision."

Alanna hoped that within two weeks' time, Christian would have become a part of their family. She prayed for that with every breath, but she smiled easily as though his son's welfare were not such a horribly divisive issue between them. "All right, I will, but if you continue to be as attentive as you've been today, I'll not change my opinion." Hunter responded with a smile that warmed her clear through.

"I'll try not to give you a reason to change your opinion in an entire lifetime," he vowed. "Two weeks will be no challenge at all."

Alanna reached across their plates to caress his arm. Their experiences that day had taught her they would have to overcome not only society's stern condemnation of their union, but their own very real differences. And yet, when she touched him, all she felt was the delicious sensation of love. Wanting their wedding night to be perfect in all respects, she told herself that for the time being, it was enough.

Chapter 25

Hunter insisted that Alanna eat the last of the apricot tarts. He then removed the tray and brushed the bread crumbs off the bed. "Did you have enough to eat?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I had too much." Alanna licked the apricot filling from her fingertips. She fluffed up the pillows and leaned back against them. "That was a truly wonderful meal."

"It wasn't as fancy as what your aunt serves."

"Food doesn't have to be fancy to be good."

"That's true." Hunter stretched out across the foot of the bed. They had been having such a good time, he did not want to spoil it, but he had a concern he felt compelled to share.

"There was a lot of talk at the trading post about war with France. If it comes to that, the British will probably follow the Hudson River north, and sail through Lake Champlain to strike at Montreal and Quebec. Your aunt and uncle may tell you that living with me on the Mohawk will be too dangerous. They might try and convince you to remain with them, until all threat of war is past. That could take years. We should talk about it now, and be prepared for such a suggestion."

That he would want to discuss the possibility of war on their wedding night caught Alanna by surprise, but she already knew what she wanted to do. "I'm your wife, Hunter, and my place is with you. It won't matter what danger we face, if we're together, and I doubt anything could be worse than what we've already suffered. Not that we should admit to the killing of five Abenaki, but you and I know how to survive. My aunt and uncle are entitled to their opinions, but they'll not change my mind. I want to be with you."

Alanna looked very pretty and sweet, but Hunter would never forget how swiftly she had come to his rescue. He was embarrassed now that he had been so ungrateful. "They may cry and plead with you to stay."

"That's very unlikely."

"What do you expect then?"

"I'm trying not to think about it."

Hunter did not understand how she could avoid dwelling on her aunt and uncle's reactions. "We have to see them. We owe them an explanation about Elliott, and there's our marriage to announce."

Alanna turned to punch the pillow behind her into a more comfortable shape. "Yes, I know, but please, must we talk about them tonight?"