Patricia Potter (44 page)

It had been all she could do to keep from going to him and running her hands over his face. As she stared at him, his smile faded, and he held his hand out to her. “We must go,” he said. “We’re already late.”

Now she guessed they had been riding nearly six hours without a pause. Since he had assisted her into the saddle, he had been quiet and withdrawn, although his eyes often swept over her with intensity.

At one point, she knew he’d noticed she was drooping.

“I’m sorry, Meredith,” he said. “We don’t have time to stop. I want to get there just before dinner. He won’t have much choice but to invite me to stay.”

“I’m fine.” With supreme effort, she straightened her back.

He smiled, a heart-catching prideful smile, and Meredith’s breath caught in her throat.

“Is it wise,” she said hesitantly, not wanting to lose that sudden emotional contact, “for me to go in with you?”

“You said Lissa was very light.” Quinn smiled. “And you are very dark at the moment. Even if you have similar features, I doubt anyone will notice them. You just stay with Cam. He’ll tell everyone you don’t speak.”

She nodded. With every hoofbeat, she was getting closer to Lissa. Closer to the goal toward which she had worked so many years. Her hands tightened on the reins, and her horse sidestepped in protest. She looked over at Quinn and saw his eyes, understanding and sympathetic, and she thought how wonderful it was that she seemed to love him more and more every minute.

Cam was riding directly behind them and, as if he knew they needed to be alone, he spurred his horse and galloped on ahead.

“I love you,” she said, unable to help herself.

Quinn’s mouth turned up at one corner. “Even if I ride you to death?”

“Because
you’re riding me to death,” she admitted, knowing that he was doing this for her.

“We’ll get her, love,” he said, his eyes roving over her. She saw a spark of desire in them and wondered, since she knew she looked anything but seductive at the moment.

“You’re blushing,” he accused.

“How did you know,” she retorted since her skin was far too dark to reveal any such color.

“I’m beginning to know you, Merry, love,” he teased, wanting to take her mind from the soreness he knew she must be feeling, and from Lissa. “I can tell by the way you lower those eyes of yours. I’m damned glad at the moment they’re not blue.”

“I’m sure you would have found a way to solve that problem too.”

“Probably,” he admitted, “but it would be a bit odd to have a blind groom.”

She laughed. “With your reputation, Captain, I don’t think anything would be considered odd.”

“Ah, but I’m not me today,” he said. “I’m a perfectly respectable horse buyer with an eye for beauty.”

She looked at him skeptically. “I’ve heard the good Captain Devereux also has a very wide-ranging eye for such things.”

“Rumor, love. A rumor I did my best to foster.”

“And no truth whatsoever?

“Well,” he admitted lightly, “perhaps a little. But not after I met a golden-haired girl with the most fetching golden brown eyes.”

“Who you thought was a ninny,” she accused.

“But an interesting ninny.”

“And you were a fascinating scoundrel.”

“Incredible, isn’t it?” he said, and now his mouth was laughing. “One of these days I would like to sit down with Brett and…” Suddenly his face closed again, because he wondered if he would ever get a chance to tell his brother everything. Brett would probably disapprove of his activities, since the banker was the very soul of rectitude, and most people in the South considered what he was doing outright theft. But part of Brett, Quinn thought, would be pleased to know that he wasn’t a complete wastrel.

He sometimes wondered why he found it so damned important to have Brett’s approval. But deep inside he knew. His family had risked so much for him, had spent so much of their fortune. His father and brother had even died waiting for him to return. He didn’t want Brett to believe it had been all wasted. Quinn owed him that much at least.

Meredith saw the curtain slide over his face again. She knew there were still things he had not told her, events that still weighed heavily on him and apparently were too painful to talk about. It hurt her to the core, but she wasn’t sure whether the hurt was for him or herself. She understood, though, for there were still things she had not told him, things that ran too deep inside herself, like the day Lissa had been taken away.

They stopped briefly at a stream where they watered and rested the horses, and went over the plan one final time.

Then they were riding again, and the sun was on its downward spiral. They stopped at a farm, asked directions, and continued. The sun was just beginning to dip beyond the trees when they arrived at their destination.

Meredith reined her horse behind Quinn, alongside Cam. She pulled her hat down so it shaded much of her face, and she kept her eyes to the ground. When Quinn dismounted in front of the house, both she and Cam stayed well in the shadows.

A servant had evidently noticed their arrival, for the door opened and a tall husky man appeared. His clothes—those of a gentleman—told Meredith that he must be Marshall Evans. Meredith watched as he and Quinn talked. Quinn was at an angle and she could see half of his face. She saw the smile and she knew his plan had worked. This far, anyway. He said a few more words, and Meredith saw the Kentuckian nod his head. Quinn turned toward Cam and strode quickly to him, totally ignoring her. “You’ll stay in the stable with the horses,” he said curtly. “Rub them down carefully.”

Meredith had to fight to keep her grin to herself, as she heard Cam’s resentful murmur. “Yes, Massa.”

Quinn liked Marshall Evans. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about the man’s ready hospitality and enthusiasm about horses that was contagious.

He had been warmly welcomed as soon as he mentioned the name of a banker in Cairo who, he said, had recommended Mr. Evans’s stock. As soon as Quinn had mentioned he would travel on to Murray for a room, he was quickly dissuaded.

“Not too many horsemen around,” Marshall said. “Most of them are in central Kentucky. It’ll be a delight to talk horses for a change. How did you happen to come this way?”

“I went to New Orleans, came by riverboat to Cairo where I bought the horse that you’ve kindly allowed in your stable. I’ll be going through Louisville on the way back, but then I heard you might have some excellent stock.”

“I do,” Marshall said. “You will stay then?”

Quinn nodded. “Gratefully.”

“Good. I’ll just tell my housekeeper.”

Quinn’s eyes never changed when the housekeeper appeared almost immediately. Meredith’s information was correct. He could never mistake those features. The resemblance between the two women was remarkable. If he hadn’t been prepared, if he hadn’t remembered the small girl from so very long ago and how much, even then, the two girls had resembled each other, he was sure his face would have given him away.

There were differences of course. Lissa’s hair was dark, and her eyes a deeper brown. Her skin was duskier but not by much. She could easily pass for white.

But there were other differences. There was a mischief in Meredith that was not apparent in this solemn slim woman. Instead, there was a rare dignity to her, made even more unusual by the fact that Quinn knew she could be no more than twenty-two. She seemed ageless in her poise. His eyes went to his host, and he saw something in the man’s face that was much stronger than a man’s regard for a servant.

“Lissa,” Marshall said, “this is Cal Davis from Virginia. He will be staying with us tonight. Show him to one of the guest rooms, and have another plate set for supper.”

The housekeeper smiled, and Quinn felt warmed. He didn’t know whether it was caused by her resemblance to Meredith or by Lissa all on her own. He did realize, however, that Marshall Evans also felt it, and his hopes for buying Meredith’s sister plummeted.

He followed Lissa up the stairs to the room, and stood at the doorway, watching her sure, quick movements.

“I’ll have some water sent to you,” she said pleasantly, and started to leave.

Quinn’s hand detained her. “You look very much like someone I know,” he said softly. “A Meredith Seaton.”

He watched carefully as she jerked away from his grasp. And then the words seemed to penetrate and something clouded the brown eyes, reminding him of Meredith. They lacked her sister’s golden lights but they held just as much feeling.

She stood still, her shoulders straightening the way Meredith’s did. There was, apparently, the same raw courage in this woman. But she said nothing, merely looked at him warily.

“She’s been trying to find you,” he added quietly. “For years.”

Still, she said nothing, merely listening.

“Do you remember her?” God, he wanted an answer. Any answer.

“She’s alive?”

The question surprised Quinn. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

She closed her eyes, remembering that day, which was burned into her mind. She had tried to forget it. But it had haunted her for years. She still dreamed about it, about being dragged away from her mother and calling for “‘Miss Merry.” She had seen Miss Merry at the window and then watched as she fell, the scream echoing in the hot summer air and later in so many dreams. But the wagon carrying her had not even stopped.

Lissa looked up at the stranger. His face was uncommonly understanding, and she felt an immediate trust that surprised her. “I saw her fall,” she said slowly. “She screamed for me, and then she fell from a window. She was trying to come after me, I think. I thought she was killed.”

The hold on her arm tightened. Meredith had not told him that part of the story. “She always remembered her promise to you, that she would take care of you.”

“I don’t need taking care of,” Lissa said unemotionally.

“No,” he agreed. “Are you happy here?”

She shrugged. “Mr. Evans is kind.”

“Meredith would like to buy your freedom.”

Lissa smiled, a smile full of quiet sadness and knowledge. “He would never sell.”

“He loves you,” Quinn said. It was not a question but a statement.

She nodded.

“And you?”

“I don’t have the choice of loving or not loving.”

“You do now,” Quinn replied, his voice low.

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Meredith is in the stable now. We can help you escape. Tonight.”

But only the first words caught her attention. “In the stable?”

He nodded.

“But how? Why?”

“She’s stubborn,” Quinn said, his mouth turning up in a smile. “She swore years ago she would find you, and she’s been trying to do just that ever since.”

“And you? Why are you here, Mr.—”

“Davis. For the moment, anyway. I’m here because of her, and you and I met years ago. When I built a swing.”

Lissa narrowed her eyes, trying to remember, but she didn’t. She remembered little before that day she was taken away. Those events—being taken away from her mother, Miss Merry’s fall—had darkened the better days before them. She shook her head.

“No matter,” he said. “You were very young, and very shy.”

“That doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”

Quinn was surprised at the perfection of her speech. Meredith had told him she had started teaching Lissa how to read. That education must have continued, which was unusual. Education was forbidden most slaves.

“Doesn’t it?” he replied softly.

“Are you married to her?” she asked bluntly.

“No, but soon, I hope.”

Her mouth softened, as did the rich dark brown of her eyes and he saw a hint of the golden light that he’d thought was Meredith’s alone. “I’m glad,” she said.

“Can you go see her?”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Evans places no restrictions on me.”

“Have you thought about leaving?”

She looked at him as if he’d stepped from another world. “Where would I go, Mr Davis? What would I do? I have no one.”

“You do now.”

“Mr. Evans has been good to me…as was his mother before she died.”

“Just see her, Lissa. Please.”

“Yes,” she said. “I would like that. Perhaps after dinner if you can keep Mr. Evans occupied.”

“Where?”

“The moon is full tonight. There’s a small pond, about a quarter of a mile to the north of the house. It’s well sheltered by trees, and there shouldn’t be anyone there at night.”

Quinn nodded.

“I have to go now,” she said. “I supervise dinner.”

“I’ll go see to my horses,” Quinn said.

Without smiling, Lissa nodded slightly in response. “When you return, I’ll have hot water sent to you. Is there anything else you require?”

“I think not,” he said slowly. “It’s incredible how much you look like her.”

“Do I?” she said curiously. “I don’t remember.”

He smiled slowly, just one corner of his mouth turning up. “She does,” he said.