Mary gaped.
“He has just arrived. What do you think, Mary?”
Mary’s hand flew to her chest. “He is an exact replica. How can this be?”
Edmund narrowed his gaze, drew his hand up to his chin. “What are you up to, Juliet?”
Mary stared at Edmund in wonder and amazement.
Juliet swung her cousin around to face her. “Did you ever think of the possibility there could be someone who is similar to you in every detail?”
“You are talking riddles,” Edmund said. “What are you talking about?”
“We must introduce them,” Mary said.
“Introduce whom?”
Skin tingling, Juliet said, “Two Eagles. He is an Oneida Indian, part of the powerful Iroquois…” She looked Edmund in the eyes. “And an exact duplicate of you.”
He snorted a laugh in dismissal. “You ladies are being silly, and I’m rather tired and prefer not to meet any savages.”
Juliet tilted her head back. Oh, they may look alike, but there was a huge difference—Edmund’s prejudice sizzled like acid in his condescending tone, bigotry stamped into him; inevitably bred from birth. “But you must. The resemblances are—”
He scratched his jaw, a chin relatively smooth, absent of facial hair just like the Indians.
“I am going to rest. Perhaps later you can show me this savage.” He strode away, kicking up puffs of dust from his heels, leaving a dazed Juliet and Mary on the boardwalk.
Juliet pulled Mary away from two soldiers who seemed to linger. “I’m thinking about staying in America. I want to fight for my marriage, I haven’t figured a way as yet, but I’m determined.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Joshua opened the door to his room, his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. He was not alone. He yanked a knife from his belt alert to an intruder.
“Joshua, I…”
He pressed the door closed. “Juliet, what are you doing here? We cannot meet anymore.”
“You can’t mean—”
“Shh.” He stuck the blade back in the sheath. All of Joshua’s instincts shouted to send her away, back to England where she belonged. “Your security is sealed with your cousin. If he finds you in here with me, he’ll assume the foulest of conclusions. I’ll be hanged and, worse, your reputation will be ruined.”
“But the vows—”
He hungered for Juliet—and her alone. He had spent the past years teaching himself not to feel, and now in just a few short months Juliet had brought every bit back to him—the savage joy, the sweet torment, the lust, and the heat. “Our vows no longer exist. It was a ruse and one I at no time agreed to hold you to.”
She said nothing and a long silence hung in the air, shattered by the sorrowful song of a whippoorwill.
Then he looked at her.
She searched his face, her pupils large, her eyes moist. God, it killed him to send her away like this. Then her tears released to fall on her cheeks.
His heart aching, he simply stared at her, the moonlight illuminating her beautiful tear-streaked face. He could lift her skirts, feel her feminine softness, let her warm musk pour over his hands. The bed yawned behind him. He could lay her down…kiss away her tears and release the throbbing ache in his loins…make her his. Spirit her away in the wilderness. She was his wife, after all.
She lifted her chin, brushed at her cheeks with her sleeve. “I suppose I have peculiarities that find your lack of advantages to be a major part of your charm. Each and every time, I was the one drawn to the lame cat or runt pig of the litter.”
He deserved that, but it didn’t take away the sting. “Your maidenhood is intact. No one need know anything passed between us. With encouragement on your part Captain Sunderland will provide you a good life. He has a fine pedigree. You will be coddled in England…a fine house…a perfect life.”
“I don’t want—”
