Chapter 5
Morning Fawn ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Half the morning was gone, and here she was in bed. She squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in through the windowpane. Her head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, and her mouth was so dry, her tongue stuck to its roof.
How dare they do this to her? She crammed the pillow to her mouth and screeched into the down. Her fingers dug into the fluff. She should have never touched that horse yesterday. That’s the message they wanted to get across. If only she could scour every trace of poison from her, inside and out.
Throwing the pillow aside, she tossed off the covers and swung her legs over the edge. The leftover whisperings of the laudanum would likely sap the strength from her muscles for another half day, and from her heart, even longer. An enemy more insidious than a rattler.
Her hand brushed the fork, and she threw it on the floor. What she wouldn’t give to skewer her uncle.
A food tray sat on the side table and fresh water in the washbasin.
Lucy or someone had already been here this morning, and she’d slept right through it.
Eggs and toast. Her stomach rumbled. Was it safe to eat?
They usually saved the poison for the night.
Now that she’d misbehaved, in their opinion, they’d likely try it several nights in a row.
She glanced at the door and the window. What if she rammed the chair leg through the pane? What would they do then? The chair—
An image of Devon Reynolds sitting there flickered through her mind.
Had she dreamed he’d been here last night?
His deep voice barely above a whisper, he’d rested his elbows on his knees and studied her with that all-seeing gaze of his, a frown shadowing his face.
He’d look mighty fine with his white shirt contrasting with his tan and his black suspenders stretching taut against his muscles.
No. Nothing but a figment of her imagination. The laudanum did things like that. She moved to the washbasin and splashed her face, avoiding the mirror. No doubt, dark circles underscored her eyes.
Her hand shook as she picked up the water pitcher and drank from it directly. She closed her eyes as the sweet liquid traveled down her throat. The bed called. Another couple hours of sleep would help mute the effects.
A tree branch scratched against the pane. Morning Fawn stilled. Another image. Reynolds at the window pulling out a nail.
Water sloshed out of the pitcher as she clunked it down. It was a dream. Wasn’t it? Why would he come here in the middle of the night? How would he have gotten in? Her uncle would never have allowed it. He’d be more likely to skin Reynolds alive.
Pivoting, she strode to the window sash. An empty hole. Goose bumps spread over her arms. No nail. She rubbed her fingertip over the scratched wood. A second hole.
It was no dream.
I’m going to get you out of here someday… That’s what he’d said.
Her knees wobbled. He’d leaned over her. What in the devil had happened after that? What had she…what had he done? She sagged against the wall. Her fingers had been linked around his neck, pulling him down to the bed. Dear God. Surely, she’d imagined at least that part.
With trembling fingers, she examined her underclothes. Nothing out of order. Thank God. She smoothed her skirt. But how much had happened? There’d been something about a fork and Reynolds locking women in the attic.
She buried her face in her hands as the jumble of slurred memories assaulted her. What kind of man was this Devon Reynolds? He snuck into her room, likely aware she’d been force-fed laudanum. How could anyone in the house have missed that whole struggle?
A knock rattled the door.
She jumped. “Who is it?”
“Lucy, Miss Beth.” The door handle clicked, and the maid entered, her long, dark hair pulled back in a chignon. A white apron covered the front of her black dress. “Thought you might need help cleaning up this morning.” She offered a tentative smile and curtseyed.
Morning Fawn ran a hand over her hair. “Thank you, but I can look after myself. If you could just empty the pot.”
“You’ve had a rough night.” Lucy closed the door. “And I’m in no hurry to get to Miss Thea’s room or Mrs. LeBeau’s either.” She strode over to the trunk, picking up a discarded stocking as she went. “I’ll help you find something pretty.”
“What’s it matter?” Morning Fawn grabbed her brush from the washstand. Half of her brain felt as if it were still asleep. “No one’s going to see it.”
“Sometimes it’s good to look pretty for yourself, Miss.” Lucy pulled out a petticoat, followed by a blue floral-print dress.
“I’m not up to flowers, Lucy.” She brushed through her tangled ends. Cacti would be more of her style, far from here.
As usual, Lucy didn’t listen. She never did when it was just the two of them. “You get that dirty one off, and I’ll take it down with me to the sewing room when I finish here.”
Morning Fawn blew out a breath and picked up the water pitcher for another drink.
“I could pour you a cup of water, you know.” Lucy laid the clean clothing over the back of the cane-bottom chair and stepped behind her. “I’ll help you with the top buttons.”
Their gazes met in the mirror. Lucy’s eyes said it all. She felt sorry for Morning Fawn.
I don’t need your pity. Morning Fawn bristled but held her tongue. She couldn’t afford to lose the closest person she had to a friend this side of the frontier. Outside this room, she couldn’t even carry on a decent conversation with Lucy, not if any of the LeBeaus or Owens were within earshot.
The dress slipped off of her shoulders, and she shimmied out of the remains of a day she longed to forget. “Did you see Lieutenant Reynolds this morning?”
The maid exhaled and scooped up the discarded garment with long, slender fingers. A triangle-shaped scar marred the back of her hand. “I saw everyone at breakfast.” But the way she gnawed her lip hinted there was more.
“And?”
She dodged Morning Fawn’s gaze. “You’ve got bruises, Miss Beth.” She pointed to a dark black-and-blue mark on Morning Fawn’s upper arm.
The way her hip felt, there was probably one there, too, and her ribs. No surprise. Jumping from a horse. Scuffling with Reynolds. Then, being manhandled by Owens. No wonder her body told her she should be in bed.
“It’ll heal.” Morning Fawn rubbed her arm. “But I want to know about the lieutenant. What are you not saying?”
Lucy wet a washcloth in the basin and gently touched it to the bruise. “He showed up at the hen house when I was there. Claiming he likes eggs and wanted to inspect the hens. But that’s just what he said.”
“What was the real reason?” Morning Fawn took the washcloth and skimmed it over her face.
“To ask questions about you.” Lucy unbuttoned the petticoat at Morning Fawn’s waist and let it fall to the ground. “And I tries to say as little as possible.”
“About me? What kind of questions?”
“About your medicine, mostly.”
“And why’s he so almighty concerned about that?”
“Didn’t say.” Lucy’s brow furrowed. “But he wouldn’t let it be until he had some answers.
I was a bundle of nerves, him being a white man and all and us being alone.
” She handed Morning Fawn a clean chemise and drawers and turned toward the bed.
“I told him it was the first time in months they’d given you laudanum, and they usually put it in your food.
That it only comes to what it did last night when they figure out you haven’t taken it. ”
The soft linen hung loose in Morning Fawn’s hands. Her humiliation a matter of conversation. It was none of this man’s business. “What did he say to that?”
“Nothing.” Lucy shrugged and yanked the blankets off the bed. “Looked real serious as if he was studying on something, then thanked me and left.”
What was he up to? Maybe he hoped for a repeat of last night.
Or an even friendlier reception. He’d live to regret it if he dared come near her again.
If Reynolds had any decency or honor, he wouldn’t have snuck into her room.
But what should she expect from a man who traded her for money as if her freedom could be measured in coin?
Last night, he’d seemed almost…kind. A delusion of her laudanum-soaked brain.
She yanked the rest of her garments off and scrubbed.
“What should I do next time?” Lucy removed a sweat-stained sheet.
“Next time?” Morning Fawn hurried to replace her drawers while Lucy still had her back turned.
“If he asks me more questions. And what if he tells the master?”
Tell him I might twist his nose off if he keeps putting it in my business.
Morning Fawn bit her lip and tugged her chemise over her head.
“Tell him as little as possible. Then, let me know every word he says. If he’s sneaking around asking questions, I doubt he’ll be gossiping to my uncle about it. ”
“I reckon.” Lucy nodded. “And he did look concerned about you last night.”
“He did?” She gaped. Had Lucy seen him come to her room? “When?”
“While they was giving you the medicine. Came out of his room as if he planned to march up them stairs and tell your uncle what’s what. Me and George had to plead with him to stay put.”
Concerned about her? Probably just guilt. Maybe that’s why he’d removed the nails.
Lucy snapped a sheet wide and waved it over the straw-stuffed tick. “I’ve got a feeling that man is going to stir up trouble.”
Mr. Trouble. Morning Fawn covered her eyes. Had she really called him that? She’d probably sounded like some scarlet woman at a saloon.
“Miss Thea hasn’t wasted any time.” Lucy tucked in the corners.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Batting her eyes, twirling her fan, trying to act as sweet as if she were born in a honeycomb. Weaseled her way into riding with the lieutenant and the massa. Your uncle’s showing off the plantation, but that ain’t what Miss Thea’s showing off. She done set her cap for Reynolds.”
Morning Fawn jabbed a hand to her hip. No surprise there. Thea would chase after anyone in pants as long as they owned a cotton field or had money. And Reynolds? His concern wasn’t worth spit. Going riding with that woman a few hours after he’d snuck into Morning Fawn’s room?
That man was a downright scoundrel in so many ways she couldn’t count them.
Serve him right if he were to get caught in Thea’s web.
And if he’d gossiped to that plantation princess about what he’d seen last night?
Morning Fawn gritted her teeth and jabbed her arms into her dress. Those two deserved each other.