Heather Graham (36 page)

She hurried back to her father, smiling benignly. Ashcroft lifted the heavy trunk himself, nearly throwing it into Pierce’s arms. “My boy! You can manage that much better than I can!”

Pierce caught the trunk, gritting his teeth. Rose smiled with narrowed eyes, and in turn, Pierce cast her a heated, warning gaze, but there was very little that he could do. She lowered her eyes demurely, her smile still in place.

She managed to fall behind with him as they walked toward her father’s carriage.

“Having difficulty as a servant, my lord?” she inquired sweetly. “I imagine you had a much different evening planned. I am so sorry! But what was I to say to Father? I had to keep your true identity a secret!”

His silver eyes lit upon her in a way that made her shiver. “I’ve no difficulty in carrying a trunk, milady.”

“Ah, yes, but there will be so much more for you to do once we reach the house!” she said quietly. “So very much more for you to—endure at my hands!”

“Just remember, milady, that whatever you give, I will be delighted to return to you, tenfold.”

“Rose?” he father said, calling to her worriedly.

“Threat—or promise?” she challenged Pierce.

He lowered his head to her. “Whichever! Bear in mind, my love, that very soon I will no longer be threatening, but carrying out my every promise!”

Tremors shot through Rose. She returned his gaze determinedly.

“I’ve still got tonight!”

“Oh, aye!” he told her.

Rose spun around then, hurrying forward to join her father.

Oh, yes! She had tonight! A smile curved sweetly into her features, and she almost laughed out loud.

Tonight the power was hers.

BY THE TIME THEY
reached the house, Rose was in her glory.

It was going to be a very enjoyable experience to have him beneath her power for a change tonight. She could really do almost anything. After all, what could he do to her at her father’s house?

She had a night. A full night …

And Pierce was going to have a taste of his own medicine. She was going to make absolutely certain that it was a long, long night!

She started by insisting that a number of the stalls had to be cleaned, really cleaned. She stayed out of Pierce’s sight, of course, giving the orders to their head groom. When that was done, there were all manner of harnesses to be polished and oiled.

Her father would have given him a room in the attic, but Rose saw to it that the head groom gave him a pallet in the straw in the loft of the stables.

A man his size, engaging in heavy work, would certainly work up an appetite. In her father’s little kingdom, everyone ate well. Ashcroft was a generous man, and he had a wonderful cook named Lucy.

Lucy was especially kind to the downtrodden. If she heard that Pierce was an ex-convict—a man incarcerated for stealing bread alone—she would shower him with the very finest foods available from her kitchen.

Maybe she had made him too sympathetic a man. She should have said that he was a horse thief.

But she hadn’t. And when she slipped down through the arbor that led to the kitchen, she discovered that she was already too late.

Pierce was in the kitchen now, hauling water for Lucy. “We’ll be needing lots of it tonight, young man. Her Grace, the duchess, is returned unexpected, and she’ll be wanting her hip tub and all. The houseboys will see to that, if you’ll just bring the buckets of water. Why they have you doing all this work when the sun is set, I’ll never know!” Lucy said with a
tsk
ing sound.

“It doesn’t matter,” Pierce told her quietly, dropping down to slip the buckets of water he carried on a shoulder brace to the floor. “I’ve a mind to keep busy.”

“Well, now, they’re usually the finest of the gentry, the master and his daughter,” Lucy said with a sigh. She was plump and round and rosy.

And it was most obvious that she was finding Pierce charming, and enjoying every moment that she watched his muscles ripple over his task. His white shirt was open from his throat to the center of his chest, revealing crisp, dark hair matted sensually against his sun-colored flesh. He was certainly different from their usual houseboys and grooms, and it was plain that Lucy was simply fascinated by him.

“Don’t you worry, young man. You go ahead and attend to all these tasks they’ve set ye to! I’ll see that when the time for your supper comes round, it’s wonderful juicy pork chops and my own special greens.”

Pierce doffed his plumed hat to her, thanking her politely, his amused smile flashing across his face.

Rose bit her lower lip, determined he wouldn’t be enjoying pork chops.

She managed to come back to the kitchen later. There was a pile of bone and gristle lying on a plate by the hearth. Lucy had probably left it to make soup. Rose saw the tray waiting to go out to the stables where Pierce was working.

It was a simple matter to exchange plates. And when Lucy came upon her, standing by the table, she smiled. “Lucy, I am going to miss you!” She hugged the broad cook while one of her little maids picked up the tray to head out. “England is not so bad a place, except that no one there can cook half so well as you!”

Lucy gave her a pleased grunt and hugged her in return.

Rose was gone for several long moments before Lucy found the good meat by the fire. Then she stroked her chin, and wondered if the cooking flames weren’t getting to be a bit too much for her.

In case Pierce was too near finishing with his first tasks, she hurried down to find the head groom, Randolph.

“Randolph, it has come to my attention that a number of the horses are in need of a serious grooming,” she told him. “I think the young convict should deal with them.”

“Milady, you’ve already set him to a number of tasks—”

“Ah, but I’m certain he’s a man who would do well with horses. Start him on Blaze.”

Blaze was nearly seventeen hands high.

And as ornery as the devil.

That was all right. Rose kept out of sight while Blaze was brought out, and Pierce was instructed to groom him. She clapped a hand over her mouth, watching from one of the stalls, determined that she would not laugh. Blaze was a match for any man. He pranced and shifted and kicked. It was a good thing Pierce knew horses. He swore at Blaze, but managed to keep control of him. Still, giving the horse a good brushing and cleaning his feet was a task he would not forget soon. Hmm …

Then again, he might do it again soon!

She waited until he had been given two of the mares and three of their huge draft horses to do, then she made her appearance known. She didn’t glance Pierce’s way, but walked along the stalls with Randolph. “Oh! The others are fine, but I’m afraid that Blaze just won’t do! He must be brushed again. And what of his feet? Have they been cleaned?”

Randolph shook his head. “My lady, it’s getting very late. I’m certain the horse—”

“Will not do,” Rose said with a sigh. This time she remained in full sight while Blaze was brought around and Pierce was called back from stall cleaning to see to him again.

She was delighted by the aggravated expression on his face and the flash in his eyes when they touched hers. “Once more, Peter, if you will. I’m afraid my father demands perfection, and the job you’ve done on Blaze here is lacking.”

Pierce stiffened, but offered her a deep bow. Randolph had moved on. Pierce, a horse brush in his hands, came under Blaze’s neck. “And I demand, Duchess, that a stop be put to this,” he warned her.

She smiled sweetly, remembering his earlier words to her. “I am so sorry, milord! You seem to have missed something here.
I am the one making the demands now!
”

He flashed her another warning stare. “Tonight. One night!”

Was she pressing her luck? If so, she couldn’t quite help it. She called to Randolph again.

“Peter really does do excellent work—and so quickly! When he’s finished here, Randolph, let him have his dinner break. Then there’s a small patch of land I want tilled—”

“Tonight, milady?” Randolph said.

Rose gazed innocently at Pierce. “Oh, it has to be tonight! You see, I’m going to have some very special flowers planted in my absence.”

“The poor fellow will be working all night,” Randolph said softly. Pierce’s eyes remained on hers.

“Yes, he will, won’t he?” she murmured. And smiling regally still, she waved a hand in the air. “Come, Randolph, I’ll show you where he needs to work next.”

That should take care of her husband! she thought.

Pierce finished with Blaze while she was walking with Randolph. The head groom excused himself to tell Pierce that he might take his dinner break.

To put the final touches on her triumph, Rose heard the clatter of the cover from Pierce’s food tray while she stood by the edge of the stables.

He had discovered his “pork chops.”

Randolph returned to her. She thanked him for seeing that everything was done, and then turned to hurry back to the house.

Pierce, sitting on the rough wooden bench by the door to the stables, heard movement. He rose.

And he saw his wife, swiftly running back to the house.

He looked down at the gristle upon his plate. “Your turn will come, my love, I promise it!” He smiled to himself, hands on his hips, as she slid inside the front door. He started to laugh.

She wanted her vengeance, too. Ah, well! Maybe she deserved it. He had been so dead-set determined that she had betrayed him! He had never really stopped to think that Jerome, who had already proven himself capable of anything, might well have sent a message to the lord constable himself, or in Rose’s name. Ah, but then, it was true that she had called him back to where he had been taken.

But then, he had never stopped to imagine that she might really have loved him.

A slight trembling seized him. Dear God, he thought, give us a chance this time! Give us a chance!

He looked to the house. His heart seemed to burn in his chest. His son was there.

One night be damned!

Tonight he was getting into that house! Prudent or not, he’d see his son.

All the torment that Rose was putting him through did not ease her own night. She was back with her Woody, delighted to be holding and hugging him again. But she was afraid to tell Mary Kate the truth, though she couldn’t possible leave for England without her!

She was also worried that she had made a terrible mistake, because if Mary Kate were to take a walk outside the house that night, she might well see Pierce and call out his true identity.

And although Rose had claimed Pierce innocent, her father might just want to see him brought to justice. No, that wouldn’t be a problem; she could reason with her father if need be. But there were others around, and she had learned that everyone could not be trusted!

Oh! And it was going to be agony to part from her father. She didn’t want to leave him again. England was a long, long way away.

And so, while she thought that Pierce was surely busy working his powerful fingers to the bone, she sat with her father, trying to make light conversation. “Daughter, you’re really working that poor convict fellow,” he told her. “And I can’t keep him off the captain’s ship tomorrow. Do you think we should let the young man sleep?”

Rose waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry, Father. The head groom gave him a place to sleep in the barn loft. I’m sure he’s finished with his tasks by now and will sleep well enough.” She hesitated a moment. “I’m going out back for a moment to see the river,” she said softly. She was leaving. She didn’t know when she was coming back. She wanted to look out over the night, over the moon falling upon the water, and feel the night breeze brush her face.

That place was out there. That pretty place by the water that she had told Pierce was the most beautiful in all the world. They should have seen it together.

She thought that her father would protest. But he didn’t.

“You do that, daughter,” Ashcroft told her.

He watched her go, keeping his seat until the rustle of her skirt had faded away. Then he leapt up, and hurried out toward the stables.

Pierce dug the last patch of ground from the plot by the side of the house, leaning upon the shovel. He wasn’t quite sure what she had meant for him to feel—this was her one night, and bless Rose! She had tried to make her best use of it.

A convict! How quickly she could invent a tale. And how ironically close to the truth it had come.

He glanced up at the house. He’d been watching it for quite some time now. He’d seen her moving about earlier at one window, then he’d seen a heavier-set woman moving in the same manner, and he realized that they had both been walking with a baby.

His son. Something warm that made his fingers begin to tremble swept through him. In all the long days and nights he had never imagined that Rose might be bearing a child, his child.

But he knew now, more fully than before, that he had fallen very deeply in love with his wife, and therefore, the rub of betrayal had been all the greater. There had been the sweetest satisfaction in seizing the ship …

And then there had been the doubt. Rose was so passionate in her denials! And she had spoken to him so plainly and honestly.

But he had spent so many months living because he had longed for revenge. There had to be justice in the world, somewhere!

There was. Rose was innocent. Jerome was guilty. And he had to prove that, somehow. Outlaw, pirate, as he had become.

He swirled around suddenly, hearing movement behind him. Instinctively he raised his shovel, ready to fight if necessary.

It was the master of the great colonial estate himself, Ashcroft Woodbine. He didn’t shrink or duck away as he eyed Pierce’s shovel. He knew that Pierce wasn’t going to use it against him.

Pierce let the shovel fall, watching the man carefully.

“Peter, eh?” Ashcroft said to him doubtfully.

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Peter, my arse!” Ashcroft said.

“Sir, I—”

“Convicts just don’t have the look of you, man. I’ve seen one or two in my day, and they haven’t your build—or your arrogance.”