The Handmaiden's Necklace (12 page)

Dani turned so Caro could unfasten the buttons at the back of her topaz gown, then stepped out of the garment and kicked off her slippers. She sat down on the stool and let Caro pull the pretty green ribbons from her hair.

“Perhaps we should braid it,” Caro suggested.

“Yes, I think that would be best.” The pins came out one by one. In minutes her long red curls were gathered into plaits and pinned once more on top of her head.

“Can you unfasten the necklace?” Dani asked.

In the mirror, Dani caught Caro’s stiff nod. There was something in her face, something dark and troubled that Danielle hadn’t noticed before. As the diamond clasp came undone and the pearls fell into Caro’s palm, Danielle turned on the stool and looked up at her.

“What is it, dearest? I can see that something is wrong. Tell me what it is.”

Caro simply shook her head, moving the tight blond curls beside her ears. She pressed the pearls into Dani’s hand, looking even more desolate than she had before.

“Dear God, Caro, tell me what has happened.”

Her friend’s blue eyes welled with tears. “It’s Robert.”

“Robert? What about Robert?”

More tears welled, began to roll down her cheeks. “Last night he came to see me. Robert told me he loved me, Dani. He said he has never met a woman like me.
A woman like me,
Danielle. As if I were someone special, someone worthy of his love. But Robert can’t speak of marriage—not until he is free.”

Dani caught Caro’s shaking hands in both of her own. She knew the story of Robert’s indenture, how he’d been accused of a crime he didn’t commit and been forced to flee his homeland.

“Listen to me, dearest, there is no need to cry. I’ll speak to Rafael, convince him to purchase Robert’s indenture papers.”

Caro pulled her hands away and more tears washed down her cheeks. “Edmund Steigler won’t sell them, and even if he would there isn’t time.”

“We shall make time. We’ll delay our journey until Rafael can speak to Mr. Steigler, then go home on a later ship.”

Caro wiped her eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Then you must tell me, make me understand.”

Caro dragged in a shaky breath. “Just before the wedding, Robert came to see me. He had received a letter from his cousin in England, a man named Stephen Lawrence. According to the letter, Stephen has discovered the identity of the man who murdered Nigel Truman…that is the man Robert was falsely accused of killing.”

“Go on.”

“I have never seen Robert this way.” Caro stared off toward the window, as if she were there again with Robert McKay. “I think until now he didn’t believe he would ever find a way to prove his innocence. Now he is desperate to return to England and clear his name. He means to escape, Danielle.”

“Dear God.”

“He says once he proves his innocence, he’ll find a way to send Steigler the money for his contract. I want to help him, but there is nothing I can do.” Caro stared down at the necklace Dani held in her hand. “I actually thought of stealing it.” The tears returned to her eyes. “I thought that I would give the necklace to Robert and you wouldn’t find out until after we had sailed.”

Caro looked at Danielle and began to weep. “I couldn’t do it. I could never steal from you—not even for Robert—not after everything you’ve done for me.” She cried harder, her slender body shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry, Danielle. I just…I love him so much.”

Dani eased her friend into her arms. “It’s all right, dearest. Somehow we’ll figure this out. Everything is going to be all right.”

Danielle mentally went over what Caro had told her and her mind raced. She trusted her best friend’s instincts and her own opinion of Robert McKay, and she believed Robert had told the truth, that he was innocent of any wrongdoing. She knew what it was like to be accused of a crime you didn’t commit, and her heart went out to both of them.

Caro pulled away from her and walked over to the window. She stared down into the garden, her narrow shoulders
shaking with silent sobs, while Dani tried desperately to think what to do.

She could speak to Rafael, but she wasn’t sure he would help. She didn’t know the man he had become, and she didn’t trust him. What if he went to Steigler, betrayed Robert’s intentions to his master?

Rafe could be ruthless. She knew that firsthand.

She looked down at the necklace still clutched in her hand. She had very little money. Both her parents were dead. She had only the small monthly stipend her father had left her, not enough to help Robert find a way to clear his name. Until she married, she was mostly dependent upon her aunt and she refused to ask Aunt Flora to involve herself in what would surely be a crime.

The necklace felt warm in her palm, oddly comforting, as if it tried to soothe her, perhaps lend her strength. Walking over to where Caro stood, Dani took her friend’s hand and draped the strand of pearls across her palm.

“Take it. Give it to Robert. Tell him to use it to save himself, to return to England and clear his name.”

Caro gazed up at her, a look of disbelief on her face. “You would do that for Robert?”

A lump rose in Dani’s throat. “I would do it for
you,
Caro. You are the sister I never had, my best friend in the world.” She folded Caro’s slim fingers around the pearls. “Take the necklace to Robert. Do it now. Rafael will begin to wonder where we are. There isn’t much time.”

Caro’s throat moved up and down. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ll find a way to repay you—I swear it. I don’t know how, but—”

“You’ve repaid me with your friendship a thousand times
over.” Dani hugged her. Turning, she walked over to the dresser and took the red satin pouch out of her jewelry box. Reaching for the pearls, she slipped them into the pouch and handed it back to her friend. “Now go.”

Caro hugged her one last time. Tucking the pouch into the pocket of her gown, Caro hurried out the door. As she headed off down the hall, Dani took a steadying breath.

Sooner or later Rafael would discover what she had done. He would be angry. Furious, she knew. She shivered, remembering the fury on his face when he had walked into her bedchamber and found Oliver Randall in her bed, thinking of the way he had destroyed her life.

Dani steeled herself. She would deal with Rafael when the time came. Until then, she prayed that Robert would be able to safely escape.

R
afe escorted the ladies up the gangway, onto the deck of the
Nimble,
a big, square-rigged, triple-masted sailing ship that carried a total of a hundred-seventy passengers in steerage, first and second classes; thirty-five hundred barrels of cargo and a thirty-six-man crew.

Though there were fewer people traveling from Philadelphia to England than the large number of emigrants who traveled to America in search of a new home, the vessel hummed with activity.

The captain, Hugo Burns, a great bearded bear of an Englishman with black hair and dark eyes, greeted them as they departed the gangway and stepped onto the deck.

“Welcome aboard the
Nimble,
” he said, “one of the finest ships ever to sail the Atlantic. She be four-hundred tons, one-hundred-eighteen feet long, twenty-eight feet in the beam, and she’ll carry ye safely back ta England.”

Rafe had been lucky to find a British ship and crew ready to make their return trip home. The
Nimble
wasn’t one of Ethan’s ships, but from what Rafe could discover,
Captain Burns was one of the most respected seamen around.

Lady Wycombe smiled up at the big, burly man. “I’m sure we will be safe in your very capable hands, Captain Burns.”

“Aye, that ye will be, Lady Wycombe.”

The first mate, a lanky sailor named Pike with a tanned, weathered complexion and wearing a dark blue uniform jacket showed them to their quarters, the best accommodations Rafe could purchase aboard the vessel.

Pike led the small group to a ladder midship that led down to the first-class passengers’ quarters on the upper deck. Cabin 6A would be shared by Lady Wycombe and Caroline Loon. Pike assured the women that a crewman would deliver their baggage, then waited while the ladies made their way inside the cabin and began to settle in.

The first mate continued down the passage, leading Rafe and Danielle farther along the corridor to their quarters in the stern, the largest first-class cabin aboard the
Nimble.
As Pike unlocked the door and stepped back out of the way, Danielle paused nervously outside, peering in with a frown on her face.

“Thank you, Mr. Pike,” Rafe said, “that will be all.”

She looked up at him as the first mate disappeared down the passage. “But surely you don’t intend that the two of us should share the same cabin?”

His jaw firmed. “That is exactly what I intend.”

“I remind you, sir, we had an agreement. You said—”

“I know what I said. I said I wouldn’t make love to you until we reached England. That doesn’t change the fact that we are wed.” He shoved the door farther open. “We’ll not only be sharing this cabin, but also this bed.”

Color washed into Danielle’s cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was anger or embarrassment or perhaps a little of both.

Lifting her chin, she walked past him into the cabin, staring at the wide single berth as if it might swallow her whole. “Caro and Aunt Flora have berths—one atop the other.”

Rafe kept his expression carefully bland. “We’re married, Danielle. We don’t need separate berths.” And in the days since he had agreed to forfeit his husbandly rights for the duration of the journey, he had come to a decision: he had agreed not to make love to her, a promise he meant to keep.

Which left him with infinite possibilities.

His groin thickened as several of those intriguing possibilities popped into his head. Whatever Danielle felt for him, she was not immune to him in a physical sense. The kiss he had claimed at the altar had been proof of that. He could still recall the feel of her soft lips parting under his, the way she had trembled. Danielle had always been a passionate young woman. It was obvious that had not changed.

His arousal strengthened. They were wed and yet she would not be completely his until the marriage had been consummated.

To insure that happened, Rafe intended to seduce her.

Setting the leather satchel he carried on the floor, he closed the cabin door and walked over to where Danielle stood. Her gaze remained fixed on the berth stretching out beneath the porthole and he wondered what sort of imaginings were going on in her head. Setting his hands gently on her shoulders, he slowly turned her to face him.

“We have plenty of time, love. I’m not going to rush you. But we’re married, Danielle. You may as well learn to accept it.”

She just looked at him, her eyes troubled and filled with doubt. Rafe caught her chin and very gently kissed her. The faint, sweet scent of her perfume filled his senses. Her lips felt petal-soft under his.

His body tightened, forcing his already rigid arousal uncomfortably against the front of his breeches. He wanted to deepen the kiss, to explore the sweet valleys of her mouth. He wanted to lay her down and remove her clothes, wanted to caress the lovely apple-round breasts that had haunted his dreams for the past five years.

He wanted to make love to her for hours on end.

Instead, he ended the kiss. “Give us a chance, Dani. That’s all I ask.”

Danielle said nothing. She simply turned away.

Rafe watched her retreat to a corner of the cabin and his resolve strengthened. Before he’d met Danielle, he had slept with very few women. On his eighteenth birthday, his best friend, Cord Easton, had gifted him with a night at Madame Fontaneau’s House of Pleasure. A few months later, he had taken a mistress, then later kept company with a countess whose husband suffered a failing memory.

After he’d met Danielle, there had been no need for other women. He knew, once they were wed, that he would be content.

That terrible night five years ago had changed all of that. Determined to forget her, he had slept with countless women. From opera singers to the most sought-after courtesans, Rafe knew the power of seduction. In those five years, he had used it well and often. He would use it now to correct the wrong he had done to Danielle and in the hope of securing a future that included pleasure for both of them.

Danielle surveyed the roomy cabin, trying to decide her best course. She could refuse to share the accommodation, demand that Rafe locate another cabin for her use, but she could see by the fierce glint in his eyes that in this, he was determined.

She flicked a glance in his direction, saw him lounging negligently beside the cabin door, one shoulder propped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching her every move. On the surface, he looked harmless enough, but under that bland facade lurked a potent, virile male who, sooner or later, intended to claim his husbandly rights.

Her heartbeat quickened. Rafe made no secret of his desire for her and yet he had given his word. Though she didn’t believe he would break it, once they reached England he wouldn’t waste a moment in taking possession of her body.

Dani inwardly sighed. At five-and-twenty, she knew more of what occurred between men and women than she had five years ago, but still her knowledge on the subject was sorely limited. Perhaps sharing such intimate quarters with Rafe would be a good way to extend the education she so obviously needed.

Dani couldn’t quite ignore a trickle of interest. What would it be like to lie next to a man as potently male as Rafael? To sleep beside him? To awaken next to him in the morning?

Disturbed by the unwanted thoughts, she turned to survey the stateroom. With its elegant teakwood paneling, builtin teakwood dresser and writing desk, the cabin would be far more comfortable than the quarters she had shared with
Caro and Aunt Flora on her previous ocean voyage. There was even a small hearth in the corner for use on a cold Atlantic night.

And the fact was, sooner or later she would have to share a bed with the man who was her husband. That she had been forced into the marriage didn’t change the fact that she belonged to him, wholly and completely.

At least for the present, she would be safe from his advances.

The afternoon progressed, turned into evening. At dawn, they would sail for England and home. Danielle found herself dreading the night ahead.

Though Rafe had been charming to both Caro and Aunt Flora all through the supper they had enjoyed at the captain’s table, Dani couldn’t miss the heat in his eyes, the anticipation. She thought he would disguise it, maintain the polite-but-distant demeanor he had unfailingly assumed in the presence of her friend and her aunt, but he made not the slightest attempt.

You’re my wife and I want you,
his hot blue gaze said, and every time he looked at her, butterflies swarmed in her stomach. Already tense, her nerves grew more and more frayed.

They had dined in the elegant first-class salon, a low-ceilinged room paneled in teakwood and brightened with red-flocked wallpaper. Ornate gilt lanterns with tiny crystal prisms hung over the long mahogany table, and gilt sconces fashioned to tip when the ship was under sail lined the walls.

Captain Burns seemed a competent man, more con
cerned with his ship and crew than conversing with the small group of first-class passengers gathered in the salon. He left them as soon as the meal was finished, anxious to tend to final preparations for their early-morning departure.

By the end of the evening, the group had become acquainted: a Virginia planter named Willard Longbow and his tiny wife, Sarah; Lord and Lady Pettigrew, whom Rafe had apparently met once in England; a Philadelphia couple named Mahler taking their two older children on an extended trip abroad; and an American of dubious social standing named Carlton Baker.

Something about Mr. Baker, a tall, attractive man in his forties, made Danielle uneasy. From what she overheard, he seemed to be a footloose sort, traveling from town to town whenever it took his fancy, with no obvious means of support, though from the clothes he wore, he was a gentleman of some stature.

Baker was friendly enough, but the man had a way of looking at her that seemed a bit too bold, a little too familiar. She wondered if Rafe had noticed Mr. Baker’s interest, and remembered how wildly jealous he had been five years ago. He was a different man now, his emotions kept well under control. More likely, he no longer cared for her in the manner he had before.

Still, though she was friendly to Baker, she made a point of keeping her distance.

The long evening passed. The others chatted pleasantly, but Dani was too aware of Rafael to make much of an effort at socializing. He stood too near, spoke too softly, smiled at her too often.

She kept thinking of the cabin they would soon share, the
bed where she would be forced to sleep beside him. Exhausted as she was by the long day’s events, her nerves on edge and stretched near the breaking point, half of her yearned for sleep while the other half wished the evening would never end.

She felt Rafe’s hand on her shoulder and a shiver of awareness slipped through her. “Come, love. The day has been long and tiring. It’s time we bid our newly made friends good night.”

Danielle merely nodded. Staying up till dawn wouldn’t change what lay ahead. Rafael gave her a moment to make her farewells, then escorted her along the deck to the ladder midship leading down to their cabin.

The passage was narrow and dimly lit. She was tall for a woman, but he was far taller and she could feel the power of him, the utter male strength.

A little shiver ran through her. She didn’t know the man Rafe had become, a man who would force her into a marriage she did not want. And she couldn’t help wondering if a man like that would truly keep his word.

Rafe opened the door and she stepped into the cabin. Outside the porthole, torchlights flickering on the dock reflected on the surface of the water, casting a pale yellow glow into the cabin. Though the interior had seemed roomy before, now, as Rafe stepped through the door behind her, his large frame filled the space between them and the cabin seemed small and confining.

He lit a whale-oil lantern, and in the flare of light as the wick caught fire, she glimpsed the outline of his profile, the faint dark shadow of beard along his jaw, the slight cleft in his chin. Her heart set up a clatter. Dear God, the man was
handsome! Just looking at him made her breath catch, made her feel suddenly light-headed.

“Come, love, let me help you undress.”

The words rumbled through her and her mouth went dry. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need his help—not now, not ever—but she couldn’t reach the buttons at the back of her gown, and she was so very tired.

As if in a dream, she stepped out of her shoes and moved toward him, then turned and presented her back. With expert skill, his long dark fingers worked the small covered buttons closing up the aqua silk gown she had worn to supper, and she wondered how many times he had accomplished the task.

“I realize you are not used to disrobing in front of a man,” he said softly, “but in time you’ll get used to it. Perhaps you will even come to enjoy it.”

Enjoy removing her clothes in front of Rafael?
The idea seemed utterly impossible…and yet, deep down the notion intrigued her.

His hand brushed the nape of her neck, skimmed across her shoulders, and gooseflesh rose over her skin. She closed her eyes against a wave of embarrassment as Rafe eased the gown off her shoulders, urged it down over her hips, into a pool on the floor.

She was left in her thin lawn chemise, stockings and garters, and she recalled he had seen her that way before. She felt the press of his mouth against her bare shoulder, but instead of embarrassment, something warm and liquid slipped into her stomach. Beneath the bodice of her chemise, her nipples tightened into firm little buds that rubbed against the thin cotton fabric.

Dear God!

Praying Rafe wouldn’t notice, she stepped out of the gown at her feet, bent to retrieve it, careful to keep her back to him, and hung it in the space provided. “Thank you. I can do the rest myself.”

“Are you certain?” There was a husky edge to his voice, along with a hint of challenge.

Unable to resist, trying not to think of the half-naked picture she presented, she turned to face him, holding her head high, determined not to cower in front of him, no matter how scantily she was dressed. She could feel Rafe’s gaze running over her, assessing every barely hidden curve, the length of her legs, the narrow circumference of her waist and the fullness of her bosom.