Her stomach rolled. “A thousand?”
“Aye. Most often the blows are delivered over a period of days, allowing the prisoner some respite but greatly increasing his dread of the pain. Of course, such a beating can prove fatal. The trick in meting out punishment is to remember that a hardened scoundrel cannot be reformed no matter how hard you beat him. But a young soldier, such as this one, can still be turned to good if his spirit is not crushed.”
Something fell out of the man’s mouth. The doctor picked it up, held it up for her to see. “A lead ball. He’s bitten it flat, his attempt to preserve his pride and keep from crying out, I expect.”
Then the man moaned, and his eyes fluttered open. His gaze lighted on Bethie, and his eyes grew wide. He lifted his head, tears in his brown eyes. “I never meant to frighten you, mistress. Forgi’e me! I’m so sorry! I’ll no’ put my hands upon you or any other man’s wife again, and I’ll curse any man who does!”
Unsure what to say or feel, Bethie fought back her emotions, dipped a cloth into clean water, pressed it to his sweaty brow. “Rest. ’Tis over now. Dr. Aimes will see you well tended.”
***
Nicholas sank his spade deeply into the damaged earth wall, tossed another shovelful of dirt down into the rift that floodwaters had made in the Lower Town curtain wall. The wall would be a few feet lower here, but at least they could close the gap.
Sweat ran down his bare chest as he dug. It was only about nine in the morning, and already the sun was blazing. He pitied the soldiers in their heavy, woolen uniforms. It was hard to believe that he’d ever worn one. How far away that life seemed now.
He should have felt more ill at ease here amid the trappings of his former life. There were too many echoes, too many memories. He hadn’t spent this much time in a fort or taken orders from anyone in six years. Yet here he was among people who had known him, however briefly, as Lieutenant Nicholas Kenleigh. Such circumstances ordinarily would have driven him deeper into the wilderness, as he much preferred being nameless.
What had changed?
Nothing. Nothing had changed. He was simply repaying his debt to Bethie, making certain she and her baby reached home safely. That meant staying in the fort until the road east was again safe. His presence here was an unfortunate matter of obligation, nothing more.
Even as the words formed in his mind he knew them for a lie. Nothing would have kept him within these walls if he hadn’t wanted to be here, if he hadn’t wanted to be with her. There were others he owed far more than he owed Bethie, and he had turned his back on them and ridden away.
I regret to inform you, madam, that your son is dead.
The memory of cold words spoken long ago cut through him like a rapier. The pain surprised him. He’d become so good at not feeling, so good at locking the darkness away inside himself. But Bethie had changed that. Somehow she had broken through his defenses, opened a fissure into that sea of darkness.
Lord, he wanted her. No matter how many times he touched her, tasted her, he could not get enough of her. She was like a fever in his blood, an obsession. He enjoyed just watching her come, enjoyed watching her lovely face as the sweet shock of climax surged through her, enjoyed knowing he could bring her pleasure.
And though he’d not taken her in the usual way, she was a fast learner and becoming quite clever with her tongue and hands. The first time she’d brought him to orgasm, he’d feared the force of it would wake the entire garrison. He could not deny that he dreamt of burying himself inside her, feeling her hot and slick around him, but it was better this way. This way he could not get her with child.
For he knew this could not last. One day, reinforcements would arrive and disperse the Delaware. Then he and Bethie would resume their journey to Paxton, where Nicholas would leave her and her baby in her family’s care. He’d left home to protect his family from the man he’d become. He would leave Bethie for the same reason.
“I want the accursed pet wolf and the bear turned out of the fort or put down immediately! And if the settlers can’t keep their dogs tied up and quiet at night, I want the dogs shot! They’re ruining my sleep. Offer half a crown in bounty to any man who kills a loose or barking dog.” Écuyer’s voice preceded him as he walked along the ramparts.
“Aye, Captain.” The quartermaster ran after him.
Écuyer stopped at the bottom of the wall below Nicholas. “And make certain that those who are selling Indian corn are not making too much of a profit. I can’t have the king’s subjects slaughtering one another over grain. I should think that six shillings a bushel is sufficient in time of war.”
“Aye, as you wish, Captain. Will that be all, sir?”
“Aye. You are dismissed.”
The quartermaster—Clark was his name—hurried away.
“Master Kenleigh, I should like a word with you.”
Nicholas handed his spade to Ian Calhoun, climbed down the rough embankment to the ground.
Écuyer looked him over with a frown. “You are not properly attired, Master Kenleigh.”
Nicholas accepted a ladle of well water from one of the farmer’s wives, slaked his thirst, cold water spilling down his throat and over his chest. He wasn’t the only one working without a shirt. “It’s a hot day.”
Around him, men laughed.
Écuyer’s cheeks turned a blotchy shade of red. He lowered his voice. “Do not show insubordination before the men. As a gentleman, Master Kenleigh, and as a former officer, you ought to understand the need for maintaining discipline.”
Nicholas reached for his shirt, slipped it over his head, ignored the ties. “You came over here to ask me to put my shirt on?”
