Read Rebel Temptress (Historical Romance) Online
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #REBEL TEMPTRESS, #Adult, #Adventure, #Action, #Yankees, #Plantation, #Yankee Major, #Enemy, #Unportected, #Alone, #Bloodshed, #War, #Lonely, #Captured Hearts, #Seductive, #Vowed, #Possess, #Precious, #American Revolution, #18th Century
"You ain't about to do what I is thinking you is, is you?" Darcy said suspiciously.
"Oh, yes, I am, Darcy, and you are going to help me. It is not Christian to turn one's back on a fellow human being when he is suffering."
"Them is Yankees."
"Maybe so, but at the moment they are under my roof, and it does not matter what color uniform they wear."
Darcy mumbled the whole time she was helping Honor dress and as she left her to go to the kitchen to boil the water. Honor twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and put on a green pinafore that helped disguise her swollen stomach. She then went to the linen closet and gathered up an armload of white linens which she carried down the stairs.
At the bottom of the steps she was met by a redheaded man wearing the stripes of a sergeant.
"Here, little lady, you should not be carrying such a heavy load." Simpson took the linens from her and smiled. "Where would you like me to take these for you, ma'am?"
"Into my study, sergeant. I want to use them for bandages."
Simpson's mouth fell open. "You want to tend our wounded, ma'am?"
"Of course. Why should you be surprised? We in the South have compassion for the wounded, no matter what you may have heard to the contrary."
Adam watched from the doorway, frowning slightly.
"I think what my sergeant meant but was too much of a gentleman to say, is you should not be tending the wounded in your delicate condition."
Honor turned to him quickly. "You are not burdened by being a gentleman, are you, major?"
Adam laughed. "Not in the least, ma'am. Now, if you will allow us to use your linens, we will wish you a good night."
Honor brushed past him and entered the room where there were wounded men occupying every available space. She felt the major beside her and spoke softly. "I am not one of your men that I take orders from you. This is still my home; I shall do as I please."
Adam smiled down at her and gave her a mock bow. "By all means, then, do as you will, but do not say I did not warn you."
Honor bent down to examine the young boy she had seen earlier.
"Have you no doctor traveling with you?"
"But of course," Adam said, taking her by the arm and pulling her to her feet and leading her to one of the wounded men. "Mrs. Daniels, may I introduce you to Lieutenant Wilson, doctor and gentleman."
The man tried to rise, but Honor knelt down beside him and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
"You must not move, doctor. Are you badly hurt?"
Beads of perspiration stood out on the doctor's forehead and he looked very pale. "I took a musket ball in my leg, and I seem to have lost a lot of blood. Forgive me, ma'am for not rising, but I feel as weak as an infant."
"Rest easy doctor. While I do not have your skills, I am very capable of following your orders. It would seem the first thing for us to do is remove the musket ball from your leg. Then, if you are able, you can advise us on how to proceed with the rest of the wounded."
"Ma'am, you should not be here. This is no place for a lady," the doctor told her, feeling admiration for the slight girl who was determined to help the enemy.
"I will remove the musket ball if you will allow it, doctor. I can assure you I have done it before."
The doctor could not help smiling at her. "How many times have you removed a bullet from a man, ma'am?"
She returned his smile, "Actually, it was not a bullet at all, but a large sliver of wood, doctor, and it was not from a man, but from my bay mare."
The doctor laughed out loud. "That qualifies you, then. You will find my instrument bag on the desk."
Darcy came in carrying a steaming kettle of water. Honor quickly rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands. She opened the doctor's bag and spread the instruments out on a fold of white linen cloth. The room became quiet, the only sound the rain as it peppered against the windows.
Honor's heart was in her mouth as she picked up a pair of scissors and cut the doctor's pant leg to just above the knee. The wound was red and swollen. She could see the musket ball, and it was very deep. Picking up a sharp instrument, she prepared herself mentally. She jumped when the instrument was taken from her hand forcefully and the major pushed her aside.
She watched as he inserted the instrument into the wound. Blood flowed freely now as he probed the wound. Honor held the doctor's leg steady as the major removed the musket ball. Honor then poured disinfectant into the wound and bound it with a strip from a white linen tablecloth.
The doctor was biting his lip so he would not cry out in pain. Honor forced herself to watch the proceedings, unwilling to let the enemy major see how sick she was feeling.
"A little souvenir, Hank. Now maybe you will be a little more compassionate with the men you go digging around in," Adam laughed.
There was a frown on Honor's lovely face. She was not even aware that both men were watching her. When she finished with the doctor, she moved on to the young boy. The doctor tried to rise once more, but found he was still too weak.
"There is nothing you can do for the boy except place a clean bandage on his head. I doubt he will make it until morning," the doctor told her.
Tears stung Honor's eyes as she cleaned and bandaged the boy's wound. She and the Yankee major moved from one wounded man to another until all the men had received attention. The doctor had lost consciousness, and Darcy and the redheaded sergeant were mopping the blood stains from the polished wooden floor.
The major was placing a blanket over the young boy when Honor went down on her knees beside him. She took his hand in hers and held on to it tightly, as though willing him to live. Closing her eyes, she prayed for his recovery. When she opened her eyes, she looked into the blue eyes of the major, who was kneeling beside her.
He gently pushed a tress of her silver hair out of her face. "You should go to your room now, Mrs. Daniels. You have done all you can do here."
"I cannot bear to think of leaving this boy. He is so young."
"How old are you? You seem not much older than him."
"Almost seventeen," she said without thinking.
"Then you are more than a year younger than corporal Davis, here."
Tears came to Honor's eyes. "I have been sitting here thinking about his family. It is a sad thing when a young boy is given a gun and told to go out and kill his fellow man."
Adam sat down beside her. "It has always been so, Mrs. Daniels. As long as there are wars, there will be young men who will die."
"I wish it did not have to be so."
"Would it surprise you to hear that I share your sentiments?"
Honor looked into his face. Black curly hair fell across his forehead. His blue eyes were all the more striking because of his deeply tanned skin. She had met him for the first time a few hours earlier, and yet they now shared a deep bond—that of trying to save lives and bring comfort to the wounded.
"It would not surprise me," she told him softly.
Adam stood up and helped her to her feet. "You must think of your baby, Mrs. Daniels. I want to thank you for your help, but I really must insist that you go to your room now. If it will make you feel any better I will sit beside the boy for a while."
Honor nodded and walked wearily toward the door. She had never been so tired in her life, but doubted she would sleep with enemy soldiers in her house. Not that she was frightened; for some unknown reason she felt she could trust Major Adam O'Roarke.
Adam watched Honor's departure, she had not cringed or swooned at the sight of blood, as many women of his acquaintance would have. He felt admiration for her, and something more he did not care to analyze at the moment.
Sergeant Simpson stood before Honor's bedroom door. He started to knock and then paused. Removing his hat, he tucked it under his arm and made an attempt to smooth down his unruly red hair. Then he tapped lightly on the door and waited for a response.
"Who is it?" Honor asked.
"It's Sergeant Simpson, ma'am. Could I have a word with you?"
The door opened and Honor stood hesitantly before him. "What is it you wish to see me about, sir?"
He felt a bit uneasy. She was the loveliest little lady he had ever seen. He wondered if she was aware of her own beauty and the effect it had on others. His admiration of her sprang from the first night he had seen her, when she had worked so tirelessly tending the wounded men who were her enemy and had invaded her home. She was so delicate and fragile looking, and from what he could gather, she was all alone but for the black woman, Darcy.
She smiled at him slightly, and he thought he detected a sadness in her eyes, which brought out a protective instinct in him.
"Ma'am, the major would like to see you, if you have no objections."
"I have nothing to say to your Major O'Roarke, sir. You can just tell him that I intend to remain in my bedroom until he has withdrawn from my home."
"I understand how you feel, little lady, but the major means you no harm. He is an honorable gentleman, and is truly sorry to intrude on your privacy."
"Then why does he not go and leave me in peace? He has been here for over three weeks."
"There is a war on, ma'am, and we are forced to do many things that we would not ordinarily do. Why don't you go downstairs and tell him how you feel?"
Honor smiled, and Simpson drew in his breath at the transformation of her face. Where she had been beautiful before, her smile made her transcend beautiful. He knew he would carry the vision of her lovely face for the rest of her his life.
"I see what you are trying to do, sergeant. You think if I become angry enough I will go downstairs to confront your major."
He gave her a lopsided grin. "He really would like to talk to you. You have not come out of your room since the night we arrived. It cannot be good for you being shut up in your room for so long."
"Do you know what the major wants to talk to me about?" Honor asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"I think it has something to do with a Mr. and Mrs. Daniels."
"Are my mother and father-in-law here?"
Simpson smiled at her once more. "Why don't you go below and find out?"
Her laughter was like music to the grizzled old sergeant. "They are not here or you would have said so. You win, though. Inform your major I will attend him this afternoon."
He gave her a formal bow, and a wink. "I will tell him, and you will find him in your study. Good morning ma'am."
Honor closed the door and leaned against it. She felt frightened at the thought of seeing the Yankee major. He had not intruded on her privacy, in fact, she had only caught a fleeting glimpse of him since the first night they had tended the wounded men. What could he possibly have to say to her about the Daniels? Maybe one of them was ill!
Fearing that might be the case, Honor decided not to wait until the afternoon to see the major. Gathering up her shawl and draping it over her shoulders so it hid her rounded stomach, she opened the door and descended the stairs. There was no sign of any of the Yankee intruders.
When she reached the study she noticed the door was partially open. Honor decided she would not knock. After all, this was her home, and she did not owe the Yankees any courtesy. Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard voices from inside the study.
"Major O'Roarke, the general wants me to convince you of the importance of holding the bridge. He wants you to stay on here until further notice."
"Lieutenant, I am well aware of the importance of our position, but what I do not understand is why he sent you to tell me. It is the usual custom to send a dispatch rider."
"The general did not want to put in writing what I am about to relate to you. We must have absolute secrecy if our plan is to work. We have been informed that there is a big buildup of Confederate forces just to the south. Our informant tells us they intend to retake the bridge. We do not know just when they will make their push, but we intend to be ready for them when they do."
"What is the general's plan?"
"As you know, it is hard to move our troops in secret, since we are surrounded by the enemy. Would you believe just last week we caught a nine-year-old boy slipping through our lines, carrying information to the enemy about our whereabouts and our strength."
Yes, I can believe it. It would be no different if the enemy were occupying our lands. We would do the same in like circumstances."
"You are right, of course, but do you understand our need for complete secrecy?"
"What is the plan?"
"We are going to start sneaking troops across the river within the next few days. They cannot come by way of the bridge since it is under surveillance, but will swim across at a designated spot."
"Yes that makes sense, but it will be difficult to keep secret."
"The general's plan is to sneak about ten men across each night."
"Where will the men hide out, and how long will it take?"
That is where you come in, major. You are to hide them here. See that no one discovers your strength, or our plan is lost."
Honor held her breath. She knew she must make her way back up the stairs without being detected and somehow she must get the information she had just overheard to the proper authorities. Holding her breath, she tiptoed back upstairs and did not breathe easy until she had reached the safety of her room.
Closing the door, she paced up and down the room. How could she get the information to the Confederate forces? If the lieutenant had been correct, and the Confederates were going to try and retake the bridge, they would be going unawares into an ambush.
Honor placed her hands over her eyes and noticed that they were trembling. She had to pull herself together and think clearly, but what could she do? She was virtually a prisoner in her own home. She remembered that the major wanted to talk to her about the Daniels. Maybe he would allow her to visit them. Then she could tell Mr. Daniels what she had overheard. He would know what to do with the information. She immediately felt better now that she had something positive in mind.
Honor sat down in the chair and watched the clock. She would wait until after lunch to visit the major. After all, she did not want to arouse his suspicions. What would be the best way to approach him? Should she pretend to be sick? She wished she had Meagan's daring. Meagan would know how to handle the Yankee major. Should she try to flirt with him? Honor looked down at her swollen stomach and quickly disregarded that idea. Even if she were not with child the major would not be intrigued by her. She was certainly no beauty.
No, the best way to play it would be simply to ask to visit with her mother and father-in-law. After all, the major could not know that she had overheard his conversation. He would simply think she was making a legitimate request.
After Darcy served her lunch, which she found she could not eat, Honor made her way downstairs for the second time that day. This time the door was securely shut.
Gathering up all her courage, Honor rapped softly on the door. The major's voice told her to enter. She opened the door and entered the room on shaky legs. He was working on some papers and did not even acknowledge her presence. She stood in the middle of the room, uncertain how to proceed.
He had put her at a disadvantage. She felt her anger rise. How dare he send for her only to keep her waiting while he completely ignored her. As though he read her thoughts, he looked up and motioned for her to take a chair, which she did, but then he went back to his paperwork and continued to ignore her.
Anger sparkled in Honor's green eyes as she watched him, assessing him. He was handsome, in a dark, brooding sort of way. His hair was as dark as a raven's wing. His skin was deeply tanned. She remembered from the night of his arrival that he was very tall and broad-shouldered. Honor also remembered his mocking blue eyes. He could well be the most handsome man she had ever met. Most probably he had dozens of female admirers. Maybe he was even married.
Time passed and still he did not pay her the slightest attention. Angrily she rose to her feet. She was not going to sit waiting in her own home to have a conversation with the enemy.
"Sit down, Mrs. Daniels. I will be with you in just a few more moments."
"I have better things to do with my time than to sit and watch you at your work, sir," she told him angrily.
"Such as sitting in your room, acting like a rebellious six-year-old, Mrs. Daniels?"
"What I do with my time is no concern of yours. Besides, you sent for me, remember?"
He smiled and rose to his feet. "So I did. Forgive my bad manners. Won't you please be seated. Would you like something to drink?"
Honor turned her back to him, not wanting him to see her anger. She knew she must not antagonize him if she were to get his permission to visit Green Rivers.
"How strange it is, major, to be offered refreshments in my home by one who is the enemy," she said without turning to face him.
"Think how awkward it is for me, Mrs. Daniels, for I must admit to you that all I have to offer you is apple cider from your own root cellar."
Honor turned to him. "In that case, I will accept a glass from you. If you have not tried the cider from Landau, I can recommend it highly. It is made from my Aunt Amanda's secret recipe. My neighbors would give much to know the secret ingredient that goes into it."
He poured her a glass and offered it to her. Then he raised his glass to hers and smiled. "To your Aunt Amanda and her secret ingredient."
Honor took a sip and studied him through half-closed eyelashes. He was quite tall, inches taller than Jordan. She watched as he leaned against her desk and crossed his long legs. His appearance was neat. His body appeared lean, yet muscular. He was very handsome indeed, for a Yankee, she thought.
"Have you decided, Mrs. Daniels?" Adam drawled.
His voice startled her. She had not been aware that she had been staring at him. "Have I decided what, major?"
He smiled. "Do I measure up to what you expected an enemy officer to look like?"
Her face turned red and she lowered her head. What would Meagan do in a situation like this, she wondered. Most probably she would charm the major into doing her bidding. Honor rose and walked slowly over to where he stood. Forcing a smile she looked into his eyes.
"Major, I have a favor to ask of you." She threw back her head and gave him a look she had seen Meagan deliver on numerous occasions.
The smile left Adam's face and his eyes narrowed to icy pinpoints. "I am at your service, Mrs. Daniels. Ask what you will."
Honor licked her lips and moved even closer to him. She hated what she was doing, but the end results would justify the means, she told herself.
"I would like to visit my mother- and father-in-law at Green Rivers. They are not young anymore and I like to check on them every so often. They must be beside themselves with worry, knowing I am alone and helpless among the enemy."
"You are asking my permission?"
She moved even closer to him. Her arm brushed his shoulder. "I was told by Sergeant Simpson that you were kind and a gentleman." She placed her hand on his arm and gave him her most helpless look.
He withdrew her hand from his arm and held it for a moment. She wanted to pull away, but she could not back down now.
Adam wondered just how far she would go to obtain her goal. She was playing with him and he was aware of it. Somehow it made him angry. This role seemed completely out of character for her.
The anger showed in his voice when he spoke. "Just how bad do you want to visit Green Rivers, Mrs. Daniels?"
She smiled nervously. "I have told you, major, my husband's parents are very old . . .
"How far are you prepared to go to obtain my permission?"
Honor drew back at his biting words. "I do not know what you mean."
"Do you not? Then I will speak in plain English. You wish to bargain with me. What will you give me for permission to visit Green Rivers?"
Honor's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was implying. Backing away from him, she stumbled against a chair. Gripping the back of the chair, she saved herself from falling.
"You think that I would . . . that I was . . ."
He walked slowly toward her. His eyes never left her face. As he towered above her, Honor could feel his breath fan her face.
"You play with fire, Mrs. Daniels. I am a red-blooded man, not immune to the charms of a beautiful woman. But even I would be hard pressed to make love to a woman in such an obviously advanced state of pregnancy."
Honor shook her head as tears of humiliation sparkled in her green eyes. Her instinct was to run from the room and seek comfort by crying on Darcy's shoulder. She eyed the door, but Adam, seeing her intention, was not ready to let her go so easily. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he forced her to look at him. She seemed unable to move as his grip tightened on her shoulders.