Rebel Temptress (Historical Romance) (3 page)

Terrible stories had reached her ears about the war that raged between the North and South, but to date Honor had seen no sign of enemy soldiers. Aunt Amanda had told her it was because Landau was so isolated and so far from any of the main roads. Landau was nestled in a valley and surrounded by the beautiful Shenandoah Mountains.

Christmas came and went without much fanfare. The weather was bitterly cold, and Honor felt her spirits decline. Where she had always been a bright happy child, she now felt the burden of her responsibilities weighing heavily on her.

In spite of the cold weather she would accompany Clyde Carson out on his daily rounds at her aunt's insistence. She would then closet herself in the study to go over the ledgers, teaching herself the book work she needed to learn to enable her to take over the operations for her aunt.

Honor looked out the window and watched as the snowflakes drifted down from a gray overcast sky. Leaning her head against the cold window pane she tried to gather her thoughts. She had no idea what the future would hold for any of her family. Meagan had chosen her own future, and Dr. Howard had told Honor that her aunt's condition would only worsen with the passage of time. She herself was considered very young by her friends and neighbors, and yet at the moment she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. But she allowed herself these doubts and apprehensions only when she was alone. When she was with her aunt or Darcy she tried to present a cheerful outlook.

She sighed heavily and returned to the desk, where she picked up the ledger and tried to concentrate. Landau Plantation had only three field hands left, and they were all older men who had remained because they had no place to go. Then there were Clyde and Darcy. Darcy had been born on Landau, but she had never been a slave, but more like a member of the family, and lately there had been no money to pay her the small salary that she had always received in the past.

There would have been plenty of money if Aunt Amanda had not converted all her cash into confederate dollars when Jefferson Davis had asked the Southerners to do so. Now no one seemed willing to honor the Rebel dollar, as many merchants called them.

Honor closed the account book wishing she dared ask her aunt's advice, but knowing she could not bother her with money problems.

Honor looked up as Darcy came bustling into the study. "Your aunt is sleeping. She ain't feeling none too well."

"I wish there was something we could do for her. It tears at my heart to see her in so much pain, Darcy."

Darcy's black eyes became soft as she looked at Honor. "Honey there ain't nothing we can do that we ain't already done."

"I know. Everything seems to be going wrong. I feel like such a failure. Aunt Amanda has entrusted me with the running of Landau and I have made a shambles out of everything. Meagan has run off with a Yankee. There is no money to buy new supplies. Aunt Amanda's health is growing worse by the day. You need help with the housework, and there is a war going on."

Darcy placed her hands on her hips. "Shame on you. There are a lot of folks that is a lot worse off then we is. At least we has a roof over our head and food to eat."

"I know you are right as always, Darcy. I suppose I was only feeling sorry for myself. Look at you, looking after this house, and my aunt keeps you busy from morning until night, and yet you never complain. You have not even received a salary in months. You eat no meat knowing that a few chickens are all we have and you do not want to deprive my aunt of the meat she needs so badly."

"As for eating meat, you ain't had one mouthful since I have, and I don't need no money. We is family, and when a family is in trouble they all pull together." Darcy reached out and touched Honor's silky hair. "You don't ever complain. I know better than anyone how hard you work and how tired you get. You are just young and should be having fun, but you don't have time." Darcy's eyes became misty. "My poor baby, what's to become of you?"

Honor smiled. "I do not know what I would do without you and Clyde."

Darcy sniffed and walked over to the bookshelf and made a pretense of straightening the books that were already neat and orderly. "Like as not we are going to have to be strong for each other, honey. There are harder times coming."

"Aunt Amanda does not suspect how bad off we really are, does she, Darcy?"

"I ain't said anything."

"She does not suspect that we eat only vegetables so she can have the chicken to keep her strength up?"

"She ain't easy to fool, but she is too sick to worry 'bout what goes on around her."

There was a knock on the front door and Darcy left the room to answer it. Honor leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment. Her eyes opened when she heard Clyde clear his throat to gain her attention.

"Darcy told me to come on in. I didn't know you were resting," he said, taking care so the snow on his boots would not get on the rug.

Honor studied her overseer for a moment. He would be somewhere in his fifties, and while not a tall man he had powerful shoulders and often did the work of two men. His hair was as white as the snow on the collar of his greatcoat, and his blue eyes sparkled with good health. At the moment he looked uncomfortable, as he stood hat in hand. Clyde had been steadfast and loyal for many years, and she wanted to put him at his ease. She knew it was difficult for him to deal with her after working for her aunt for so many years.

"Sit down, Clyde. Is there something specific you wanted to speak to me about?"

"I'll just stand, Miss Honor, my boots have snow on them."

She smiled. "We won't worry about a little snow. Be seated, Clyde."

He walked cautiously to the leather chair and sat down twirling his hat in his hands.

"What did you wish to see me about?"

"There are two Confederate soldiers outside that claim one of their chickens got into our chicken coop."

"Is that possible?"

"No ma'am."

"Do you think they are hungry?"

"It sure would appear so. Neither one of them seems old enough to shave. They say they are from a troop of some sixteen soldiers camped beside Green River."

Honor stood up and walked over to the coat rack and drew on her gray woolen cape. "Come with me, Clyde, let us see if we can help them find their lost chickens."

The snow was deep as Honor and Clyde made their way to the chicken coop that stood fifty yards behind the barn. Honor stuck her hands in her pockets to keep them warm.

Her heart contracted as she saw the ragged condition of the two soldiers. Their tattered gray uniforms had seen better days. From what little she could see of them wrapped in heavy coats, they appeared to be in need of a good meal. Honor noticed Clyde stayed close to her side as one of the young boys approached. He removed his tattered gray cap and smiled shyly at her.

“Good Lord!” she thought. Was the south now sending children to fight the war? She gave him a bright smile trying not to show the pity she felt for him. "I understand that one of your chickens got into our chicken coop?"

The young boy, who could be no older than herself, lowered his head. "Yes, ma'am, but I could be mistaken." he murmured.

Honor looked past the boy to his companion and discovered that he was not much older than his friend. Her heart wrenched inside of her at the pitiful condition of the two boys. "Let me see, it is very possible that your chicken is in with ours. I fear the coop is in bad repair."

Honor knew that they had ten chickens left, and counting the chickens she saw that there were still ten. "I believe you are right, sir, I fear your chicken has indeed made its way into our coop. As a matter of fact there are two more chickens then there should be. Is that not right, Clyde?"

Clyde smiled at her fondly. "Yes, ma'am I believe you are correct. Would you like me to remove the two chickens?"

"You do that, Clyde." she told him, returning his smile. Honor turned to the two young boys. "I wonder if the two of you would accompany me to the root cellar. I have an over abundance of apples and potatoes, which I would deem it a favor if you would take off my hands."

One of the young boys looked at her with a pleading expression on his face. "We ain't got no money, ma'am."

"Oh tish, I do not want money. Come with me," she said in a voice of authority.

As Honor walked toward the house, where the root cellar was located, she knew that the two boys followed her. Going down the steps carefully she found the lantern and lit it, then handed it to one of the boys to hold for her. She then began to fill a tow-sack with apples and potatoes. Honor blew out the lantern and one of the boys shouldered the heavy sack and they made their way up the steps. Once outside both boys turned to her. The one with the sack lowered his head and his companion spoke up. "Ma'am, I can't take your chickens. We ain't lost no chickens."

By this time Clyde had joined them and he handed the two fowls, which were squawking and flapping their wings, to one of the young soldiers.

Honor smiled and looked at the boys. "Surely you are mistaken, these are not my chickens."

"We want to thank you, ma'am, we sure are hungry."

"The only thanks I need will be in knowing that the two of you will be well fed tonight. I would caution you both to be careful and take the greatest care of yourselves. I am quite sure that your families would like to have you return safely to your homes once this war is over."

"We sure will, ma'am, and can I say you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen?" One of the boys spoke up while his friend nodded in agreement.

Honor smiled, feeling years older than the two boys. "You had better both run along before you turn a girl's head."

She and Clyde watched as they trudged off across the snow. "I wonder what story they will tell their companions when they reach camp?" Clyde speculated. "That was a very nice thing you did, Miss Honor."

"Oh, Clyde, they were so young and pathetic. Darcy was reminding me today that we are fortunate to have a roof over our head. I wish this war would be over."

Where Clyde had admired the tiny silver-haired girl before, he now adored her. She was wise beyond her years and had the kindest heart of anyone he knew. "I am afraid this war isn't over by half, Miss Honor," he predicted grimly.

"I have no experience with war, Clyde, I only know what I have read in books. I wish the South had never started this war."

Clyde stared down at her and in that moment wished he could keep the war from touching her life. She was so delicate and fragile looking, but he knew she possessed strength and grit far beyond her years.

Honor pulled her cape tighter about her as the wind intensified and she felt the chill through her heavy cape. But she reminded herself that she had a warm home to go to for shelter, while the two young boys would most probably sleep in the cold tonight. "Clyde, if any more soldiers come to Landau seeking food, I want you to give them what we can spare."

"You can't feed them all, Miss Honor."

She walked up the steps and stood staring into the distance. The valley looked like a beautiful picture with its tall trees weighed down with snow. Honor thought of Jordan and hoped that he would be warm tonight. "No, Clyde we cannot feed them all," she said wistfully.

2

Jordan Daniels sat down wearily on the foot of his bed. The gray jacket of his uniform was tossed carelessly over a chair. How different his leave was turning out to be from what he had planned. He had wanted to surprise Meagan with a proposal of marriage, and now his mother had told him that Meagan had married Horace Elderman and gone with him to New York. Jordan doubled up his fist, wishing he had Horace in front of him right now. It did not make any sense. Why would Meagan marry that man? He was an outsider, an old man. Hadn't Meagan sworn that she loved him, and hadn't she promised to wait for him?

His eyes narrowed. Lies, all lies. She had played him for a fool while he had loved her more than anything else in the world. His pride cried out for revenge. Getting up, he walked out onto his balcony. The noonday sun was bright. Squinting his eyes against its glare, he could just make out the Landau home through the dense tree line that separated Green Rivers and Landau plantation.

How many nights had he stood on this balcony and gazed across the distance, thinking of Meagan? But now she was gone. He retraced his steps and flung open his bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway.

"Chauncey, come up here right this moment," he called loudly to the slave who tended to all his needs.

He heard a shuffling of feet on the stairway, and Chauncey appeared at the top of the stairway, puffing to catch his breath. "You wanted me, Master Jordan?"

"Would I have called for you if I did not want you? Saddle my horse immediately."

"Well, Master Jordan, I ain't no stablehand. I works in the house."

Jordan glared at him. "You have my horse saddled and waiting for me in ten minutes or you will not be working anywhere. I will sell you to the North."

Chauncey grinned. "You won't sell old Chauncey, Master Jordan. I is like part of the family."

"Do as I say, Chauncey. At the moment I am not beyond murder."

"Yes, sir, Master Jordan. I will see that your horse is ready in ten minutes."

Jordan watched as Chauncey moved hurriedly down the stairs. He picked up his jacket from the chair and buttoned it up the front. I will have some answers if it is the last thing I ever do, he thought.

He took the stairs two at a time and entered the sitting room, where he found his mother and father.

His mother looked at him apprehensively. "Jordan, are you feeling better now?"

"No, Mother, I am not feeling better. I am going to ride over to Landau Plantation and confront Meagan's aunt. There has got to be an explanation for Meagan's marrying Horace Elderman, and I intend to find out what it is."

His father eyed him warily. "You had better calm down before you see Amanda. Goodness knows she has suffered from Meagan's unforgivable behavior, and she is a sick woman, has a bad heart you know."

"I want some answers, and she can supply them, dammit."

"Jordan, you apologize to your mother for speaking so ungentlemanly in her presence," his father ordered.

Jordan turned to his mother. "Forgive me, Mother. I am not myself. This news has knocked me off my feet.'

"I know it was quite a blow to you, son, though I find that I am relieved that Meagan Landau, or should I say Elderman, is out of your life. I never did like her very much. She was never sweet and even-tempered like Honor. I declare, it is hard for me to fathom that those two are sisters."

"I do not want to hear anything said against Meagan," Jordan said, raising his eyebrow, daring his mother and father to utter anything uncomplimentary about the woman he loved. He turned and walked quickly to the door. "Do not wait luncheon on me. I will be late."

Honor lay in her darkened room. Her body was racked with pain, and it seemed every bone in her body ached. She picked up the glass of water Darcy had left within her reach. She took a drink of the cooling liquid, then lay back wearily on her pillow. She had no more tears to cry for her Aunt Amanda.

Was it only this afternoon that her aunt had been buried?

Honor and her Aunt Amanda had both contacted scarlet fever. The doctor told Honor she would recover, but her aunt's heart had not withstood the fever. Sweet, gentle Aunt Amanda had died.

Honor had insisted on going to the services although she had to lean heavily on Darcy for support. Afterwards she had collapsed and had to be carried back to the house, where Darcy put her back to bed and insisted she remain. Darcy needn't have worried; Honor felt too weak to get up.

"Oh, Aunt Amanda, I am going to miss you so much. How lonely the world will be without you," she cried.

Darcy came into the room. She fussed about Honor, straightening the pillow and smoothing the covers. "Honey, you should try and get some sleep, if you is to get your health back."

"I will be all right, Darcy. I was just lying here thinking how sad it was that none of Aunt Amanda's friends or neighbors were at the services this afternoon. Everyone loved her and would have wanted to be there."

"Don't you fret none, honey. You were there and that was what she would have wanted," Darcy said, wiping the tears from her face with her white apron.

"Do you think everyone will understand there was just no time to notify them, she was taken so quickly?"

Darcy smoothed Honor's hair from her face. "Honey, they knows. Don't you worry none about it."

"I do not know how to get in touch with Meagan. She should be notified."

"Humph, little she cares," Darcy said. "Was her help what put Miss Amanda in her grave."

"Oh, no, Darcy, you must not say such things, and you are wrong. Meagan did care about Aunt Amanda."

"Well, I knows what I knows. I ain't got to my age without knowing 'bout people's shortcomings, and Miss Meagan has enough for herself and two or three more besides."

"Oh, Darcy, I feel so alone. My head aches, and I just feel bad all over, but nothing can compare with the pain in my heart."

Darcy cradled her in her arms, much the same as she had done when Honor was a child. "My poor honey lamb. You ain't alone. You got old Darcy to look after you."

Honor thought she had cried all her tears out, but she had been mistaken. Fresh tears washed down her face, and Darcy held her until the crying stopped.

Then she spoke softly: "Honey, Master Jordan is in the parlor, says he ain't leaving till he sees you."

Honor felt her heart contract. "Jordan is home?"

"Yes'm he sure is, and he says he ain't about to leave until he talks to you. I tole him that it weren't proper for him to come to your bedroom, so he says he will just stay put till you comes to him. You ain't going, I tole him that, but he just sits there, saying when you is better, he'll be there."

"I have got to see him, Darcy. Help me get up and dress."

"Well, I sure ain't. You ain't stepping one foot out of this room."

"Then you will just have to bring him here to me."

Darcy rose to her feet. "No lady of quality lets a gentleman into her bedroom. It just ain't done."

"The only solution then is for me to go to him. Help me, Darcy, please."

"Well, I guess I will," Darcy said grudgingly. "But you may be contagious. Master Jordan won't be too happy when he come down with the fever."

"I will sit on the far side of the room from Jordan, Darcy, but I really must see him."

Darcy helped Honor dress in the black gown she had worn to her aunt's funeral. Honor looked at herself in the mirror. How pathetic she looked. Her hair hung lankly about her shoulders. Her cheeks were paler than ever, and her eyes looked dull. The black dress hung on her; her usually thin frame was even thinner now, due to her illness.

She hated the thought of Jordan's seeing her looking so wretched, but there was no help for it. He probably would not pay much attention to her appearance anyway.

Darcy helped her descend the stairs slowly, and they had to stop every so often to allow Honor to rest. At the foot of the stairs, Honor assured Darcy she could go the rest of the way on her own. Darcy, knowing it would do no good to argue, left Honor, mumbling to herself and shaking her head disapprovingly.

Honor opened the door and held onto it for support. Jordan's back was to her and he had not heard her enter. She studied him for a long moment. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. Blond hair curled around the nape of his neck. Even though his back was to her, she knew there would be sadness and confusion in his gray eyes and a frown on his handsome face. How she loved him and wished she could comfort him.

"Jordan." She spoke softly.

He turned quickly to face her. "Oh, little one, what a sad day this is for you." He walked toward her, concern written on his handsome face.

"Do not come any closer, Jordan. I have the fever and would not want you to contract it."

He ignored her plea. "Let me hold you, little one, and give you comfort. I am not afraid of a little fever." His arms went around her and he held her tightly. "I am so sorry about your aunt. Why did you not let my mother and father know of her death?"

Honor closed her eyes. It felt so good to rest her head on Jordan's shoulder and have him hold her. "It happened so quickly, Jordan, and I was too ill to notify anyone. It was fortunate that a circuit rider was in the neighborhood. He spent two days with us, sitting up all night praying for my aunt. Then he conducted the services this morning. He is asleep in one of the upstairs bedrooms now."

"Poor, little one. You had no one to comfort you in your grief."

Honor raised her face to Jordan. Her eyes were shining with tears. "Oh, Jordan, I will miss her so much. She was such a kind, wonderful person."

Jordan cupped her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. "You are not alone now, Honor. I am here for you."

Tears spilled down Honor's face. "Jordan, I am so glad you are home. How long can you stay?"

He tightened his arms about her. "I have a week's leave, and I will spend every moment I can with you."

Her heart swelled with the love she felt for him. She felt him lift her into his arms and carry her to the couch. He sat her down and sat down beside her. Then he drew her head to rest on his shoulder. "Have you seen the doctor today?"

"Yes, he was by early this morning."

"What did he tell you?"

"He said I was over the worst of it." She weakly pushed herself away from him. "Jordan, I do not want you to catch the fever from me."

"You are not to concern yourself about that."

"But I do. Scarlet fever can be very dangerous. I could not stand it if you caught it from me."

"Honor, scarlet fever is not usually fatal unless you are very young, or ill to begin with, like your aunt was. Mother and Father will be very upset when they find out you have undergone such a traumatic experience without letting them know so they could be with you. They think a great deal of you, you know."

Honor looked into Jordan's face. "You have not asked about Meagan, Jordan."

His eyes narrowed. "I did not want to upset you unduly. Do you feel up to speaking of her?"

Honor heard the pain in his voice and she wished she had the words to comfort him.

"What would you like to know, Jordan?"

He pushed her away and rose to his feet. "Why did she marry Horace Elderman, Honor? She promised she would wait for me. I had planned that we would be married while I was home on leave."

"Jordan, I am so sorry."

He turned to her. "Sorry for me, don't be." He sat down and buried his head in his hands. "Yes, do pity me, little one. I feel like a man who has had his whole world ripped apart."

Honor put her arms around him, feeling his heartache in the very depths of her own heart. "Jordan, I do not know how to comfort you, but I want you to know that I think Meagan made a big mistake in marrying Mr. Elderman, and I told her so."

He looked at her, then brushed her arm away. "That is little comfort to me, Honor. It will not bring her back to me, will it?" he said harshly.

"No, Jordan, it will not bring her back, but I pray that you will find peace and comfort."

He took her hand in his. "Sweet, gentle, little Honor. I do not mean to take it out on you. You could not possibly know how it feels to love someone so deeply that they become your whole life."

She blinked the tears from her eyes, grateful that he did not know how much she loved him.

Jordan looked at her. She was pitifully thin and drawn and hardly more than a child. He had adored her since she was a child. "Are the tears I see in your eyes for me, Honor?"

She nodded, unable to answer.

"We are both to be pitied, are we not, Honor? You are left with no one to look after you, and I am condemned to a life of loneliness because the woman I love was faithless and deceitful. Maybe we can comfort each other. Tell me about Horace and Meagan."

"No, Jordan, do not ask me any questions."

"Do you not see I have to know? How else will I ever put my life back together?"

Honor hesitated. She could not tell him that Meagan hardly gave him a second thought before she went off with Mr. Elderman.