Harlequin Historical February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Major's Wife\To Tempt a Viking\Mistress Masquerade (13 page)

In her room, Millie moved to the window, stared into the darkness. Not even thinking about the baby helped, an innocent life that held no blame. She was beyond that. Past living her life for what others needed. It was unseemly to think only about herself, her desires, but ultimately, she only had until December to love Seth. Then she'd have to leave. Return to Richmond and— A growl filled her throat.

This whole thing was erroneous. Her entire life had been.

The freedom she'd experienced lately, and the hours she'd spent drawing, where her mind had time to quiet down and reveal things she'd never had time to focus on before, had given her a new perspective on so many things. As had the friendships she'd made. The foremost one being with the man downstairs. The only husband she'd ever want.

A single star appeared in the cloudy night sky on the other side of the glass. October was well upon them, bringing cooler days and colder nights. Six weeks at most and this would all be over, and no one would ever know how painful it had been for her. As Millie found the star again, a somewhat shocking, but appealing thought occurred to her. No one would ever know what took place out here, except for her and Seth.

She pressed a hand over her lips as the thought expanded. She spun toward the bed as a thrill had her sucking in her stomach. That would be so improper. So inappropriate.

Spinning around, she paced the floor. Pretending to be his wife—really his wife, in every way—would only increase the deception. Furthermore, it would be entirely selfish on her part.

The thought of kissing him, of doing all the things Leah-Widd-I-Kah had told her about, had her insides swirling. Steaming. Millie closed her eyes against the temptation pounding inside her.

It would be wrong. Wrong. And trickery. Worse than what she was already doing.

Stopping at the window, she searched the darkness for an answer that couldn't be found. There wasn't a solution, leastwise not one she could fathom justifiable. Even while the longing to give herself to Seth, to have what other married couples had, if only for a short time, grew stronger, more intense.

Her skin became clammy and she lifted the window sash, hoping for a cooling breeze. A faint drumming sound entered with the night air, and the steady beats resounded in her soul, matching the thuds of her heart. Leah-Widd-I-Kah had said the Comanche would call to the Great Spirit tonight, asking for guidance in Per-Cum-Ske's journey to speak with the men in Washington.

The beats continued to resonate, all the way to her befuddled mind. “Oh, dear Lord,” she whispered, her words matching the steady thumps of the drums. “I need your help. A sign. Something that will tell me what to do.”

The drumming stopped. She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. Even the tiny star was gone, and no matter how hard she searched, its flickering light couldn't be found. A long and hollow sigh left her slumped against the windowsill. What had she hoped? That all of a sudden the stars would spell out Seth's name? Tell her it was all right to love him? To be with him? That was a foolish thought if ever she had one.

Noises echoed from below, hoofbeats and shouts, but such sounds no longer startled her, for the fort was seldom silent. The knock that came at the front door, though, had her rushing across the room.

She was halfway down the stairs when she froze.

Seth stood in the doorway. His hair was wet, still held the comb marks, and he wore nothing but his britches, with both suspenders hanging from the waistband, the loops resting near his knees.

His arms were bare and bulged with muscles, as was his back, and she wrapped her fingers around the banister at the sight of his glistening skin.

“Ma'am.”

Millie tugged her gaze away and nodded at the corporal tipping his hat.

“What is it?” Seth asked.

“Sorry to interrupt, Major, sir, but two mule skinners just rode in. Said they'd been chased by Indians the entire way. Their animals looked it, too.”

“Have the M troop mount up,” Seth instructed, spinning to hurry back down the hallway.

Millie didn't even nod when Corporal Kemper bade her farewell and pulled the door closed. The only thing keeping her where she stood was Mrs. Ketchum's advice. A major's wife doesn't question her husband's actions. But Millie wasn't his wife. Not really, and even if she was, she doubted she'd ever be a good one.

Seth came out of the bathing room, snapping his suspenders over his white shirt, and she lost the ability to keep her mouth shut. “When will you be back?” she asked, in place of begging him not to go.

“I don't know.” He lifted his coat off the back of the chair near the door, where he always hung it. “Don't leave the house.”

“I won't.” She moved down the steps, somewhat amazed at how calm she could pretend to be when fear had her heart racing. The way he watched her made her try harder, to force even her fingers not to tremble. Brushing his hands aside, she buttoned the jacket, holding her breath at the way his eyes followed her movements.

“You'll be fine,” he said, reaching for his hat.

“Yes, I will,” she said. “And so will you.”

The smile that appeared on his lips played with her heart, filling it with sweetness, while panic squeezed the life from it at the same time. She pulled the ends of the yellow scarf held on his jacket by the shoulder bars, and tied it in a loose knot.

One of his fingers settled beneath her chin, forcing her face up. She closed her eyes for a moment, contemplating. Right or wrong, she loved this man, and knowing she might very well be sending him into battle made that love even more precious.

Lifting her lids, she met the gentle caress of his gaze, and in that moment she honestly didn't care whose husband he was. He'd become a hero in her eyes, some magnificent knight in armor that had swept into her life and saved her from fire-breathing dragons, highwaymen and all the other evil-doers of the world, all the while remaining a flesh-and-blood man who had stolen her heart.

He stared directly into her eyes for what seemed an eternity before he said, “Yes, I'll be fine.”

“I'll wait up for you.”

“No, you go to bed,” he said. “It may be several hours.”

The desire to beg him not to go grew, and there was only one thing she could think to do. Rising on the tips of her toes, she pressed her lips to his.

He hesitated, a brief poignant moment in which Millie was too afraid to breathe. Then his hands grasped her waist and lifted her into his arms. She caught his shoulders, and held on as their lips met and parted and met again in an almost desperate fashion.

He pulled back, but then, cupping her cheek, kissed her again, before whispering, “I have to go.”

“I know,” she answered. “I'll be here when you get back.”

His lips quirked in the confident grin she loved as he cupped her other cheek. “You'd better be.”

This time his kiss was long and tender, and when she wobbled, he held on tighter. As soon as the kiss ended, he turned and left. Which was for the best. That way he didn't see the tears flowing down her cheeks.

Chapter Ten

S
eth rode front and center, flanked by the M troop on both sides and followed by a dozen more soldiers. It was where he always rode. That was about the only thing that hadn't changed. He hadn't really thought about it before, where he rode. It hadn't mattered, because if something were to happen to him, the men beside him would continue on. On the field or at the fort. Jasper would take over. Nothing would change.

Nothing.

But inside him, everything had changed, making this the first time he'd ever ridden though the gates desperately praying he'd return in one piece. For her and for him. For them.

A man could take only so much before he snapped. Seth had used that fact against his opponents regularly, but this was the first time he'd felt it himself. When he'd left the house earlier this evening, the image of Millie peeking around the washroom door with dripping, tangled hair falling across wet, glowing shoulders, and grinning like a mystical imp, had danced in his head, and that picture returned now. Actually, it had never really left him, not even when he'd found the envelope tucked between the pages of the tablet.

His question had been a fact finding mission, he'd thought. Whereas really, there was no right or wrong answer. He'd realized that sitting in the bathtub full of chilly water still carrying her scent. The papers had thrown him for a loop—had him thinking it was her he'd be divorcing. It wouldn't be. It would be her sister. He'd remembered that, too, in the bathtub. Millie was the woman he'd fallen in love with, and Millie was the one waiting for him back at their house. Yet he wasn't married to Millie.

Was this some kind of demonic curse? He'd never wanted to fall in love, and when he had, it was to a woman he couldn't marry, one he couldn't proclaim his love to because she couldn't know he knew who she was.

Even with his mind twisted, his sight was clear, and he reined in his horse, holding up an arm for the soldiers to follow suit, near the edge of Per-Cum-Ske's village.

The leader stood there, flanked by braves. The two of them, Seth and the chief, had known each other for years as allies and enemies, and at times that had made dealings more difficult.

“No one in Washington will talk to either of us about better provisions if an attack happens right now,” Seth said, without dismounting. “Even an attack on one man.”

Per-Cum-Ske waved an arm. “We are here.”

Seth showed no emotion, which in the past hadn't been this difficult. Knowing Millie, with sweet, petal-soft lips and smelling like a bouquet of sun-kissed flowers, was depending on him to return, made his desire for peace stronger than ever. “Are you saying those weren't Comanches chasing those men?”

The leader made no sign of a response.

Riding off in the dark of night, chasing down braves who'd had the time to find strategic hiding places and set up their attack, was dangerous, crazy even, but Seth would do it. They wouldn't expect that, which was what had made him the commander he was today. Doing whatever it took to gain the upper hand and keep it. He'd been able to because he'd had no worries. No one to leave behind if his plan failed. That wasn't so now, but he couldn't let it change him.

“I know they're Comanche,” he said, displaying none of the companionship he'd shown to the leader the past several days. “No other tribe would come this close to your village.” His horse shifted and he let it take a full step closer to Per-Cum-Ske. “You round them up or else I will. But know that if I go after them, I will make no concessions, show no mercy, and when I return neither of us will be going to Washington.”

The air grew heavy, tense, as they faced off, neither man blinking an eye. Seth knew stare-downs. There'd been a time he'd thrived on reading what was playing inside his opponent's mind. Right now he was impatient for it to end. As the realization clicked, so did something else. He'd never had anyone to protect before, either, and thinking of Millie, her safety, had a mountain of determination growing inside him.

“I warned you,” he said, wrenching on his horse's reins.

“Wait,” Per-Cum-Ske said. “I go to Washington.”

Seth issued a silent curse. He hadn't yet agreed to let the Indian go, and this had been Per-Cum-Ske's way of pushing him into a decision. If Seth had been paying closer attention, he'd have seen it coming. His mind may have been elsewhere before, but it was focused now. He had more to lose than ever before.

“I haven't decided that yet,” he said. “Behavior like this makes my decision more difficult. I won't travel with men I can't trust.”

The movement was slight, but Seth saw it—the slight bow of disgrace Per-Cum-Ske displayed. “I find them. I stop them.”

“I'll go with you.”

The leader surveyed the soldiers with a cold gaze.

“Just me,” Seth said.

Per-Cum-Ske lifted his square jaw.

“I don't ride with men I don't trust,” Seth said again.

This time the Indian let his action be seen by everyone. He bowed his head in acceptance and waved for his horse to be brought forward. “Just you and me.”

“Just me and you,” Seth repeated, hoping he wasn't making the second biggest mistake in his life. As an army commander, he knew when to send others to do a chore and when he had to do it himself. This was one of those times where he had to be the one to go, and that had his stomach churning.

It was several hours later, deep in the night, when even the locusts were sleeping, that he finally rode back through the gates of the fort. The four braves, who he'd seen at Per-Cum-Ske's village mere days ago, had been apprehended, and he did believe the leader when he'd vowed there were no more.

Seth relayed the outcome of the event to Jasper, who met him in the stables, and then hurried toward his house, where he found Corporal Kemper sitting guard on his front porch.

“She's asleep in the parlor,” Russ said. “I checked on her a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you,” Seth said, with a throat full of gravel. He'd been gone only a few hours, but he missed her. Missed her like he hadn't ever missed anything before, and in all honesty, he didn't want it any other way.

She wasn't his wife—that bit of reality had worn down the more he'd rolled it around in his mind, became less of an issue. He was the only one who knew, besides her and her sister. Rosemary wasn't a concern to him. Their marriage wasn't real. Never had been. To him it was even more nonexistent than it had been before. What he'd focused on the last few hours was the fact that Millie didn't want a divorce—had said so herself. Any number of things could have happened out there tonight and she would have never known how he really felt.

He wasn't going to take that chance again.

Seth entered quietly and removed his coat and hat, and after one step, when his boot heels echoed in the silence, he removed his footwear, as well. Then he crossed the room and knelt down next to the sofa, where she was curled on her side, both hands folded beneath one cheek.

Beautiful didn't start to describe her. Her glorious hair, her fine and delicate features, were exquisite, but her loveliness went beneath that. He'd seen inside her the past weeks, and that's where her true beauty emerged from.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing his fingers over the silky skin of her forehead.

Her eyes opened slowly and a smile formed as she blinked. “I like it when you call me that,” she answered sleepily, and her lids closed again.

“Then that's all I will call you,” he said, nuzzling her hair with the tip of his nose. “Sweetheart.” It was the perfect name. He couldn't call her by her given name, wouldn't call her by her sister's name. Someday he'd have to admit to knowing who she was, get to the reason she was here, but right now, it didn't matter.

He leaned over and blew out the light. “It's time for bed,” he whispered, easing his hands beneath her.

She stiffened and her eyes popped open. “You're home.”

“Yes, I'm home.” He lifted her into his arms.

Hers wrapped around his neck and she snuggled against him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“I knew you'd be back.”

“And I knew you'd be here.”

“Always,” she said, tightening her hold.

His hold tightened, too, as he started up the stairs. He'd never held anything more precious. More perfect. “Always,” he repeated.

No part of him suggested he take her to her room, yet once they'd entered his, and he arrived at the bed, a flash of uncertainty had him wondering what to do next. The way her hands roamed his neck, shoulders, chest and back said she was now fully conscious, and there wasn't a single thing about him that wasn't wide-awake.

“You're all right?” she asked.

Wondering about his answer, he said, “Yes.”

“You weren't hurt, were you?”

He eased his arm from beneath her knees, lowered her feet to the floor, so they ended up standing with their arms around each other and their gazes locked. “Not so much as a scratch,” he answered.

“I knew you would be fine.” She lifted her face, and he accepted the invitation, thrilled beyond coherent thoughts. The kiss went from soft and sweet to hot and needy within seconds. When their lips parted and they'd both inhaled, she whispered, “I want to be a wife you can be proud of.”

His heart doubled in size. “I am proud of you,” he said, running a single fingertip down the side of her face.

“You are?”

“Very.”

“I'm very proud of you, too,” she whispered.

Their next kiss lasted twice as long and had him losing control of how much longer he could wait. He'd never wanted a woman the way he wanted her. Fully. Completely. “I think it's time we take this thing off.” Digging beneath the ruffles of lace on her housecoat, he added, “If I can find the buttons.”

She giggled, that sweet lifting laugh that made the world a bright and amazing place.

“They're too big to miss,” she insisted, pushing his hands aside. “Here, let me.” She folded back the lace and slipped three huge buttons through their holes. Then slowly, one after the other, she shrugged her arms out, and let the gown fall to the floor. “How's that?”

He raised a brow while running his fingertip along the neckline of a thinner, but just as concealing gown. “Better, but I don't believe we need this one, either.”

Watching his fingers tug on the pink ribbon tied just above her breasts, she asked demurely, “But what will I sleep in?”

He let loose the ties and used one knuckle to lift her chin. “From this night forward, you'll have me to keep you warm.”

Blinking those dense lashes shyly, adorably, she met his gaze, and a flash of excitement sent his blood humming, his soul ablaze.

“I'll like that,” she said.

“Me, too.”

He kissed her again, deeply and intensely, for he couldn't get enough of her lips. Then he gathered handfuls of the gown near her thighs and gently eased the material upward. It was as if he was opening the greatest gift of his life, a treasure he'd guard forever.

She lifted her arms, raised them above her head as he slid the gown up and over. Tossing it aside, he caught her hands, kept them raised while turning her in a slow pirouette. Twice. Once hadn't been enough for him to grasp her absolute perfection. From her shoulders to her ankles, the mysterious elegance of every curve, her graceful poise, was flawless in every way, and divine.

After watching him over a shoulder, she twisted her head around to face him as the second twirl ended. “You'll make me dizzy,” she said, her hair swirling to catch up.

“Then we're even,” he said, lowering her arms enough to kiss the backs of both hands. “Your beauty makes me dizzy.”

It was true, her body was the epitome of perfection, and glimmering in the lamplight, her skin looked as fine and delicate as the thin china cup she sipped tea from. An unexpected, unsettling thought snagged his mind. Compared to her, he was as big as an ox, and nothing he'd experienced before had prepared him for taking a wife to bed.

A woman he loved.
The
woman.

He ran the back of one hand up her arm, from her wrist to her shoulder. Her skin was like velvet, and her hair, cascading over her shoulders, down her back, as well as her front, where it had settled after her twirls, was like silk. Using both hands, he gathered it into two long tails and pulled them over her shoulders. As he smoothed the tresses down her front, the backs of his hands encountered her breasts, and she let out a tiny gasp.

The long, thick mane created an iridescent curtain, hiding her breasts until he was ready to push aside the hair like one would pull open drapes to expose the brightness of the sun. “I want to promise you something,” he said, trailing his hands back up her arms, to settle on her shoulders.

Tilting her head, as if listening intently, she nodded.

He wanted to tell her he knew who she was, but that would only complicate things more, and he truly couldn't go any longer without loving her. “I'll never hurt you, not intentionally, and if by some irresponsible act I do, I want you to tell me, so I can make amends and make certain it never happens again.” It was a vow he took seriously, as was the silent one in which he willed himself to find the patience and skill and tenderness this woman deserved.

“All right,” she whispered. Then, hooking her fingers inside his waistband, she tugged him forward. “Will you do me a favor?”

Momentarily stunned, perhaps because her fingers were testing the very control he sought, Seth paused a second or two before nodding.

“Will you kiss me? The pain I'm feeling at wanting you is quite devastating.”

He wanted to throw his head back with laughter. She was an imp. An adorable, charming pixie that was his. All his. Settling for a grin, he framed her face with both hands. “I'd love to.”