She glared holes in him. “Your character thus far demonstrates your painful lack of indiscretion. Might it be a better part of valor to treat your liberator with…more benevolence?”
Was lying natural as breathing for her? Words itched to get free. “I become obtuse when the Confederacy plays games. Brilliant, the use of a beautiful woman. You can ply your wares elsewhere. I’ve lived long enough to look a second time into things I am most certain of after the first instant.”
She inhaled. “If you desire to seek additional comforts, I suggest you have a care to further remarks.”
“I take great delight with you well-bred southern ladies, notwithstanding the thunder of your treason.” With purpose, he made his responses difficult. She had to be tested. He had to make sure she didn’t work for the South. He remained responsible for far too many people.
“I find most men…incompetent, sir. Your presence perseveres that notion. On this, I am most sincere.”
“I have learned a little sincerity is a dangerous thing. A great deal of it is absolutely fatal.” He grabbed her wrist, refused to let go. “Where am I and why did you help me?”
“It was the Saint who rescued you. Dare you inflame him by besmirching his character?” She scowled at him, as if she would shoot him if he spoke one more insult. “I understand your hesitancy to trust. The Saint said to use the phrase, “day and night”. Does this help?”
His muscles eased. The coded phrase she offered was designed for him. There was also the signed letter from the Saint and his baiting of her. He had weighed her reactions. No one could be so defensive unless legitimate.
His job lay heavy with risk. He’d take that gamble and trust one more time. Slowly he released her wrist. “My apologies, madam, but one can never be too sure in this endgame. How do you propose I get back to Washington?”
She inhaled. Her bosom rose, pressed high enough where the tops of her breasts caught the fading light underneath a soft shadow. He swallowed.
“All of Richmond is up in arms, seeking the great Yankee spy who has escaped. They are searching homes, barns, railroad depots and fields for you. I am afraid, Colonel Rourke, you are bigger news than General Lee.”
The soft purr of her voice melted him further. Like she’d said,welcome to temptation. He shook his head. “I’m sorry…the laudanum. Could you repeat the last part?”
“I said, you must resist the temptation to leave before things die down.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. He’d been a brute, knew it, but was unable to erase the hours of torture he endured. “Then I’ll continue to appreciate your hospitality?” How long might he endure being in this close proximity?
A knock at the door caught both of their attentions. Lucas froze.
“It’s me, Simon. I’ve come with dinner.”
“Please enter,” she said, rising and taking a tray from a willowy boy. The slave stood at the foot of Lucas’ bed. Intense brown eyes stared at him with such arrogance, and cool disapproval, that he suspected the boy would take extreme pleasure in sticking splinters of oak into his eyeballs.
“All is well, Simon. This is Colonel Rourke. He is a friend. You may leave and rest well.”
The boy dragged his feet. Lucas caught him muttering something about loop flies. He heard Rachel laugh. Until this moment, he never realized a human voice could mimic that of angels singing. He accepted a plate from her hand, and their fingers touched during the interchange. His were warm and hers were chilled. He raised a brow.
“Surely, you’re not cold, Miss Rachel?” A gleam of satisfaction grew with her uneasiness she’d tried so hard to hide. He enjoyed her discomfort.
“I have a million things I must attend…” She turned and gazed out the window. A touch of sadness covered her countenance. Black smoke billowed out of the chimneys of the ironworks to the west, and blanketed the fields of uncut, knee-high timothy hay. Chickens scratched around a broken-down coop. Menacing spikes of a burned-out barn exposed a forbidding rectangular foundation. The sun sank, diminishing to a thin amethyst line on the horizon with somber fingers of orange and magenta.
“Pray tell, would I be first and foremost on your mind?” he teased.
She narrowed her eyes. Though a gentle amber, they seemed unusually penetrating, as if they had witnessed a profundity of experience seldom met by a person her age. “Rest assured there will be no enjoyment found at my expense.”
Lucas had been properly and deservedly chastised like a boy before the schoolmarm. “Truce?” he grinned.
“Done. Now eat your dinner.”
Chicken soup. He hated chicken soup. “I’m not hungry.”
“With all the people starving in Richmond, it seems a sin not to eat.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m a stranger to sin.” That earned him a smile. What else could he do to make this creature smile?
“If it makes you happy, I’ll eat it.” That earned him another smile. “Do you always get your way?”
“Always,” she said as she bent to tuck a napkin under his neck. Lucas’ head filled with the delicious scent of roses. He had to work harder on what he was saying. “Your boy seems less reserved than most slaves.”
