Elusive Hope (14 page)

Stowy glanced up at her with a
merow
to complain that she’d stopped petting him. Smiling, she scratched his head then ran her fingers down his back as he rumbled out a loud purr. “You’re such a good companion, little one.” She set him down beside her. “Now, stay here while I bathe.” The cat promptly plopped on the dirt and folded his legs beneath his chest, reminding Angeline she needn’t worry about him. Ever since they’d come ashore, Stowy rarely left her side. It was as if he sensed dangers in the jungle and decided it was best to stay close. Everyone in New Hope had predicted he’d be devoured by some predator within a week, but here he was three months later, fit and fine. What a wise cat. Much wiser than her it seemed, for she had not fared as well in the wilds of city life.

Angeline began unbuttoning her blouse as she gazed across the misty creek. One of the farmers’ wives had come across this isolated stream last month, and after telling the other women, they had all been sworn to secrecy about its location. The reason why stared at Angeline from just a few feet away. A round, stone basin, formed out of a rock outcropping, lay perfectly positioned beneath a gentle waterfall. Constantly filled to overflowing with calm, fresh water and surrounded by enough leaves to provide sufficient privacy, it provided a warm bath in the middle of the jungle—pure heaven to all of the colony’s ladies. Well, if one didn’t mind the mud, insects, and fish.

Drawing off her blouse, Angeline untied her ankle boots, removed her shoes, and took a quick glance around. There was no one around except a bright yellow parrot, who stared at her from a tree branch, and a rather frumpy looking frog perched on a rock in the middle of the creek. After removing her stockings, skirts, petticoats, corset cover, and corset, only her thin chemise remained. Thank goodness she’d given up on her crinoline weeks ago. The darn thing was far too cumbersome to work in.

After laying her clothes on top of a shrub, she fingered the ring hanging on a chain around her neck—a sparkling ruby mounted in a gypsy setting. On either side of the ruby, two white topazes shimmered in the moonlight. It was her father’s ring. he’d always told Angeline that she was the red ruby in the center while the topazes were he and her mother, always guarding and watching out for her. Sorrow caused her throat to clamp shut at the thought, and she glanced up into the star-sprinkled sky, wondering if they were looking out for her now. Even though her mother died in childbirth, Angeline had always felt her love from beyond the grave, as she did her father’s, dead some four years now. She had pulled the ring off his cold finger, placed it around her neck, and had never taken it off since. Not even when…

But she couldn’t think of that now. Didn’t want to think of that now…

Or what her parents would think if they knew what she’d become.

“If only you hadn’t died, Papa. If only you hadn’t sent me to Uncle John’s.” Wiping away a tear, she kissed the ring and climbed to the rim of the basin. An unavoidable moan of pleasure escaped her lips as she slid into the warm water. the frog uttered a deep
ribbit
. She smiled at him, hoping he’d stay on his rock and wouldn’t be tempted to join her. Floating her head back on the water, she stared through the canopy at the clusters of stars flung like pieces of glass across a velvet backdrop. She held her nose and dipped beneath the surface. The sounds of the jungle muted to gurgles and the heavy swish of liquid. So soothing—as if she were in another world. A world far away where there were no problems, no struggles, no heartache.

No past.

Her lungs ached and she broke the surface, back to reality, back to the hiss of wind and hum of the jungle and the crackle of a fire.

A fire?
She scanned the clearing. A dark figure sat on the beach.

Covering herself, she shoved backward until stone struck her back. Water sloshed. A shriek stuck in her throat. A cloud shifted. Moonlight dappled the man in silver. He smiled, revealing a row of crooked, stained teeth. Brown hair as dull as paste hung limp to shoulders that sagged beneath a thick wool overcoat missing two buttons. Bushy, graying sideburns angled down his limpid jaw as he studied her and stretched out his booted legs. “How’s about a little fun, missy?”

Blood raced from Angeline’s heart, leaving her numb.
Joseph Gordon
. What was he doing in Brazil? “You can’t be here.” Surely she was going mad. The heat, The insects, the hard work, the fear of Dodd recognizing her from that one night in a tavern in Richmond…All of it had ruptured her reason, shredding it into nonsensical rubbish.

“Ah, but I
am
here.” He chuckled and leaned forward on his knees, looking at her with that same wanton look he’d always worn during the six months she’d lived in Savannah. Before he and his inquisitive nature and constant beatings had forced her to move—yet again.

“How?…I don’t…What do you want?” She finally said, eyeing her clothing on the bush. Out of reach.

“To tell you that you can’t run from what you are, Clarissa. Not here in Brazil and not if you went to the farthest parts of the earth, nor to the bottom of the sea. No, no.” He gave a feigned sigh of disappointment. “And you can’t hide what you done neither.”

Angeline swallowed, her heart sinking into the silt beneath her feet. It was all over. Old Joseph Gordan would have no compunction to sharing her dirty secret with everyone.

He grinned. “Yes indeedy, you and I are going to have barrels of fun getting reacquainted.”

“What are you doing, Mr. Dodd?” Overcome at the shock of seeing the man in the jungle so late at night, Eliza’s shout came out louder than she intended.

Dodd seemed equally startled as he leapt back from his position crouched behind a bush. Immediately, he regained his composure and smiled. “Why nothing at all, Mrs. Colonel. Nothing at all. Just searching for gold.”

Eliza narrowed her eyes. The man only addressed her with her husband’s military title when he was up to no good. Perhaps as a reminder to himself that she was married to the leader of the colony and he best behave. “Searching for gold in the dark?”

“I have eyes like a bat, madam. Eyes like a bat.” He opened them wide as if trying to convince her.

Eliza moved her torch closer to study those eyes that now shifted away.

I bet you do, but not to see gold with
. “And yet you have no shovel.”

He frowned and stuffed his thumbs into his belt. “No sense in carrying around a shovel until I actually find treasure, now is there?”

Eliza groaned inwardly at the idiocy of his statement. But why argue with a fool?

“I assure you, your pirate gold is not at the women’s bathing pool, Mr. Dodd.” Angeline had told Eliza she was going for a dip, which was why Eliza was coming to join her. She could use a bath herself, and besides, it wasn’t wise for any of the women to be out here alone.

“The women’s bathin’…What are you talking about?” Mr. Dodd looked at her as if she’d told him he stood in the Sistine Chapel in Rome. “I had no idea Miss Angeline was at some bathing pool.”

“I made no mention of Angeline, sir.”

He rubbed his chin and gave a nervous laugh. “I just assumed since you two are friends and I hear she loves to bathe and she’d be the only woman to come out here alone without escort and disrobe in public. Not that I’m saying she did such a thing, but since you mentioned a bathing pool, I only assumed…” He shifted his stance and cleared his throat, still refusing to look at her.

The man was not only a greedy letch but a bad liar as well. “What exactly are you trying to say, Mr. Dodd?”

“Nothing…oh nothing…” He slapped his lips together and plucked a leaf from a nearby bush. “Never mind. It’s late and my head is foggy. Good evening.” And with that, he sauntered away, chuckling, as if she hadn’t just caught him peering inappropriately at Angeline. Something she would definitely mention to her husband, Blake.

Shoving the foliage aside, Eliza’s anger rose as she realized the ladies would have to find a new spot to bathe. But those thoughts were soon scattered when she saw Angeline standing on the shore, holding her loose petticoat up to her chest, her face as pale as the moon.

“Did you see…” She turned as Eliza approached and pointed a trembling finger to the sandy shore of the creek.

“See what?” Eliza scanned the clearing. No one was there except Stowy, who now circled his mistresses’ ankles. “Come now, let’s get you dried off. You’re shivering.”

She wrapped Angeline in a dry towel and led her to sit on a boulder. “Did Dodd bother you?”

“Dodd? No.” Angeline’s voice sounded hollow. “I saw someone. Someone I knew from Savannah.” Stowy leapt into her lap.

Eliza’s heart tightened as her thoughts drifted to the odd visions she and Blake—and now even James—had seen. “Who?”

Angeline’s harried gaze skittered across the clearing. “When you emerged from the jungle, he simply vanished. Are you sure no one is here?”

“I don’t see anyone.” Eliza took Angeline’s hand in hers, deciding it best not to tell her about Dodd. “Real people don’t vanish. I’m sure it was just a bad dream. That’s all.” But she knew Angeline hadn’t been asleep. None of them had been asleep when they’d seen their visions.

Dear Lord, what is going on?

C
HAPTER
12

H
olding her wet clothes over one arm and her valise in the other, Magnolia entered the clearing and made her way to the shelter. Setting her valise inside, she flung her wet garments over a nearby branch beneath the cover of a tree, doing her best to hide her personals. Just the thought of Hayden seeing them sent heat blossoming up her throat. Just like it had when he’d held her close with nothing between them but her chemise. The utter shame! Yes, she had screamed for his help. She’d been hysterical with fear. But any gentleman would have made a hasty retreat after killing the snake. Not taken her into his arms. Not rubbed her back and squeezed her tight. How could she possibly face him now?

More importantly, how could she deny the complete and utter pleasure she had felt in his embrace? Not just safe and secure, but on fire from the inside out. In a good way. A most pleasurable way. Mercy me, she’d kissed men before. She was well acquainted with the flutter in her belly upon such an action. But this, this sensation was beyond anything she had ever dreamed.

She needed a drink. She took in a deep breath, letting her nerves settle.

At least it had stopped raining. For now. Perhaps she should retire for the night and avoid looking at Hayden altogether. She heard him fiddling with the fire, could feel his eyes on her. Knew as soon as he looked at her, he’d see her embarrassment. No doubt he would utter some sarcastic quip, or worse, try to take further liberties. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her flask and took a sip, noting how dry it was in the shelter. She placed a hand on the bed of leaves. Thick and soft and raised off the ground to keep the ants and moisture away. An odd feeling warmed her belly—she wasn’t used to being cared for. But no, she told herself, that must’ve been the pinga. She took another sip, wincing at the pungent taste when a most delectable scent caused her stomach to lurch.

Peering around the corner of her shelter, she saw Hayden holding a skinned snake over the fire. “Ready for supper?” he asked, his tone playful.

She crept toward him. Their eyes met. As she’d feared, heat swamped her, rising up her neck and face. The right side of his lips quirked. Magnolia stomped her foot. “Stop looking at me that way. You behaved the cad and now you remind me of it with your eyes.” Jungle-green eyes that assessed her with impunity and something else that sent a tingle down to her wet toes. “You know I am at your complete mercy and yet you toy with me as an impudent boy would a poor little bird. Not that I’m as weak as a little bird, so don’t get any thoughts in your bloated head—”

“Do you wish to eat or not?” He interrupted, one brow lifting.

She thrust out her chin. “I don’t eat snake.”

“Well, I have nothing else to offer, Princess.”The snake flesh sizzled in the flames, sending up an aroma that caused Magnolia’s mouth to water. She inched to the fire, saw that he’d dragged a log over for her to sit on and placed some dried leaves on top.

Hayden tore off a chunk of snake and popped it in his mouth, raising his brows at her as he moaned in delight. His wet shirt molded to his chest, carving lines around firm muscles. Damp almond-colored hair slicked back from a face that seemed more intense and angular in the shifting firelight.

Magnolia pulled out her flask and took another sip. What was wrong with her? She’d been courted by wealthy landowners, an English baron, even a governor’s son, yet here she was ogling a man so far beneath her, the heel of her boot wouldn’t touch his head. An orphan. One of the many hapless street elves inhabiting Charleston, stealing and begging and causing mayhem.

“I’ll have a sip of that,” he held out his hand.

“
May I
have a sip, please?” she corrected him.

He cocked his head and studied her, his jaw tightening. “Thank you, Hayden, for saving my life from a snake,” he taunted.