Eric caught hold of Geneva’s wrists and dragged her back to her feet. “How many men has Tarryton got with him?”
“Twenty thousand,” she said defiantly.
He smiled. “Lie like that again, Geneva, and I will give you far greater injury than Damien has managed thus far. In fact…”
He paused, smiling at Damien. “Did you ever realize just how vain our dear Lady Geneva is? Her face is her life. Jacques—I know that this will give you great pleasure. Bring the fire poker. We wouldn’t be so heathen as to threaten the lady’s life—just her beauty.”
Geneva’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. Damien grabbed her shoulders, turning her toward Jacques. The tall Acadian approached her smiling, the poker in his hand, the end of it burning red from its recent thrust into the fire. He drew it closer and closer to her cheek, just below her eyes. She fought Damien’s hold furiously. “Eric, you’re bluffing! I know that you are bluffing! You will not—” She broke off, screaming, as the heat nearly singed her lashes. “You would not do this!” she cried.
“Well, not usually, no,” Eric agreed. “But I love my wife, Geneva, and by heaven and hell, I will have the truth from you now to get her back!”
The poker moved closer. “All right! All right!” Geneva cried out. “They’ve barely a hundred. General Howe is enjoying his winter in Philadelphia, there are countless balls and teas and he is living quite well. This was Sterling’s idea. He wants you—and Robert wants Amanda. They’ve taken Robert’s company and no more. They knew that you would run recklessly to her aid, and they would take whoever accompanied you, a minor coup. Yet a major blow to the Americans and a warning to would-be patriots when the noble Lord Cameron was hanged!”
Eric ignored her biting sarcasm. “What is he planning? Where does he have my wife?”
“There’s…there’s a house. Ten miles from here. It’s surrounded by pines. I was supposed to bring you to the pines. The British cavalry were to take you there.”
“Jacques, take her to General Washington. He must decide her fate. Damien, call Frederick, have him rouse company A of my Virginia troops. Then come back, and I’ll explain my plan.”
“Company A!” Geneva laughed. “You’re talking about twenty men. They’ll all die, you fool.”
“Dear Geneva, I did not ask for your opinion! Jacques, for the love of God, get her out of here!”
He wondered if he should have spoken. Jacques wrenched hard on her arm, practically throwing her out into the snow. He heard Geneva exclaim in pain and outrage, but then she was silent, and he was certain that she dared speak no more. She couldn’t understand Jacques’s absolute fury; she was only aware that the Acadian would just as soon kill her as look at her.
“I caused it, Eric. I caused it all,” Damien said, ashamed. “Can you forgive me?”
“I was the one who was blind,” Eric said harshly. “I refused to see until it was too late. Let’s get Amanda back. That is all that matters.”
“They won’t hang her, I don’t believe that they’ll hurt her. Although Tarryton…” Damien’s voice trailed away. They both knew what Tarryton would do.
“I’ve always risked the hangman’s noose,” Eric reminded him. “And she is my life. Without her, not even the future has meaning. Now listen, I think I know how to do this without losing a single man.”
To Amanda, the house seemed almost obscenely elegant after the time she’d spent in the wretched hovels at Valley Forge. The fireplace was marble, the ceilings were elegantly molded, and the walls were covered with handsome leather. A rich carpet covered highly polished floorboards, and she sat in a plush wingback chair, a snifter of brandy in her fingers.
Night was coming. Shadows fell upon the snow beyond the windows. Amanda’s fingers curved so tightly around her glass that the fragile stem nearly broke.
Robert Tarryton was returning. She heard his footsteps on the floorboards outside the door.
He threw the door open and swaggered in, pausing at the desk to pour himself a shot of whiskey. He smiled pleasantly to her as he took a seat on the edge of it. “I’m so sorry to have neglected you.”
Amanda ignored him, staring out the window. How long would it have taken Geneva to have ridden back? How long until Eric came riding for her? Any time now. He would come at any time. And he would be either shot down by the troops surrounding the house, or captured to swing from the rope already tossed over a tree out back. The rope had been the first torture Robert had used against her. He had dragged her out back and rubbed it against her cheek, and he had told her what happened to a man’s body functions when the rope tightens about his throat.
Then he brought her here, thrust her into the chair, and left her to arrange his murderous trap. She hadn’t been alone long. Her father had appeared to offer her brandy. He had assured her that he would listen to delight to every one of her screams when Tarryton returned. “With pleasure, with delight! I had imagined that you would have suffered with Cameron. I intended that you should, but then, like a fool, you fell in love with the bastard. It doesn’t matter. You will suffer now.”
“Why!” she had demanded furiously. “Why? What in God’s name did I ever do to you?”
“You were born, girl. Born of a whore whom I will never forget. This is my revenge. I pray that there is a god, and that there is an afterlife, so that she can look down and see you suffer!”
Then Sterling had left her too. When she had tried to escape through the window, she had discovered it nailed shut. And beyond it walked a sentry, watching her every move.
Now Robert moved across the room, glancing out the window. He ran his hand over the handsome mahogany of the window seat. “They’ll have him any minute. They’ll have your husband any minute now. I’ve ordered that he should be brought here first. I want him to see you before he dies.”
“You cannot just hang him so! You must have a trial. You—”
“Want to bargain for his life, Amanda?”
She caught her breath, afraid to hear more, desperate to do so. “You haven’t got him yet.”
