Rachel leaned over the balcony to get a peek at her guests. Lieutenant Washburn. Her eyes narrowed on Captain James Johnson. Now she understood Simon’s antagonism. Her hands clamped the railing. If she had power enough, she’d snap it in two.
She vowed before the war ended, she’d settle a score with Captain Johnson whose presence erupted a violent memory. Her father’s death two years before had been a giant crack that had fractured and ruptured her soul. She had lain in bed for days lulled into an opium-like listlessness where the rest of the world didn’t exist. A part of her had died, but by God, she rose from the ashes, fueled with a rage to overthrow tyrants and free prisoners and slaves.
No more did she fall to despair and pity, choosing the life of a recluse. A social stigma had been bestowed on her by the gossipmongers of Richmond. She didn’t care. Being alone afforded her the freedom to move about and accumulate information without being suspect.
She rounded the balcony. A hand shot out and yanked her into a bedroom, pressed her hard against the back of the door. Awake and rested, Colonel Rourke was a ferocious man. Oh, how those blue eyes of his belayed a lethal calmness that sent shivers up her spine. Heat flooded her with the awareness of his attire. Nothing more than a thin sheet wrapped around his hips. She dipped her eyes and cleared her throat. “I see you picked the lock.”
“Did you expect anything else?”
She gritted her teeth. Attila the Hun might be cowed under that stare.
“Colonel Rourke, you need to let me go.” His nostrils flared with his fury and she understood his fear.
“Who are they? Why are they here?”
“If you were to be handed over, don’t you think it would have been done before? One is a neighbor and the other is Lieutenant Washburn. I must attend business for the Saint.”
“Whatever information the Saint needs, let him get it for himself. Send them away.”
“I’m sorry, Colonel. There’s no other way. You must understand it is a means to an end.”
“Is the Saint so cowardly he hides behind a woman’s skirts?” he jeered, sharp as scissor blades.
She looked heavenward, thinking of Colonel Rourke beneath her skirts. Had he no recollection? But his sharp eyes missed nothing, and then his jaw dropped in disbelief. “You were the one who freed me. The Saint put you in terrible danger. It ends here. Is that clear?”
There emerged a maddening glimpse of arrogance about Colonel Rourke that endeared him to her. Months of secrets, hiding truths weighed on her shoulders with backbreaking force. Rachel closed her eyes, imagining the luxury of letting someone else take over for a while. Too heady to consider.
She looked down to where his hands squeezed her arms. So it was to be a test of wills. “Colonel Rourke, my goal is the same as the Saint’s and yours. I cannot do my duty while being manhandled by you.”
“Make up an excuse.”
He did not let her go. No one countermanded Colonel Rourke’s orders. Gathering all her strength, Rachel thrust him off. Losing balance, he clawed at the air, grabbed her, pulling her with him. They sprawled across the floor.Oof.His hands grazed across her breast and she felt heat rise from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.
Twisting in his arms, she crawled off him, jumped to her feet and smoothed down her gown. “Damn you. You’ve made a mess of your wounds and I have no time to dress them.”
Like a ghost, Simon appeared, kicked the door shut and moved in between them. “Stay right there, Colonel Rourke,” Simon said, leveling a gun at Lucas’ heart. “We got more important fish to fry.”
Rising, Lucas winced, his face murderous.
Simon gestured with his pistol for the colonel to get back in bed. “You goin’ to keep me good company while Miss Rachel goes about her business.”
“The younger man, without the sideburns,” Lucas said, “he’s the one who whipped me.”
Rachel darted a glance at Simon, the boy’s look of disdain calculated by Lucas.
“Be careful, Miss Rachel. You playin’ too close.”
“Keep Colonel Rourke quiet even if you have to shoot him,” Rachel ordered.
Simon cocked his pistol. “It’s a repeater.”
Rachel patted her hair into place, collected a cool composure, stepped from the room and slammed the door. Colonel Rourke remained in good hands.
“Lieutenant Washburn, it is so good to see you again.” She took his hands and gave them a squeeze and released them.
“And you of course, Captain Johnson,” she inclined her head.
“It is a pleasure.” He took her hand and kissed it.
