Chapter 33 #2
Devon clenched his hands at his sides. What he wouldn’t give to lay his fists into that smug snout. “You make a mockery of the word ‘betrothed.’ Coercing a woman is hardly something to brag about.”
“I’d never force a woman to marry me.”
“You must have left all of the dirty dealing to her uncle, then.”
Morning Fawn said nothing to disavow the claim. Her face tight and pale, she stepped toward the bars.
Moyer waved the jailer away. “Wait outside the door.”
Devon ran a trembling hand over his face and hair, beyond repair.
She wrapped her gloved fingers around the bars. He couldn’t reach them. The chain rattled as he tried.
Moyer chuckled. “I’ve been telling Morning Fawn how you gave yourself up to save the Schramm girl.”
Morning Fawn? That was his name for her, no one else’s.
Devon ground his molars. Of course, this devil would work every angle he could to worm dissent between him and the woman he loved.
“Frieda disobeyed orders. She was supposed to flee. Instead, she showed up with a canoe. I couldn’t let her be shot or hung on my account, just as I wouldn’t allow any woman die for me if I could help it.
I’d have done the same for a seventy-year-old grandmother. ”
Morning Fawn stared at him, wounded doe eyes filled with depths he couldn’t fathom.
He pivoted and uncurled his chain from its post in the floor.
“Pity it didn’t amount to much.” Moyer hung the lantern from a hook.
The chain length or the mission? “Don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything. I smelled smoke for three days afterward.”
“A few bales. We snuffed that one out. And then a bit of the roof of the depot. Nothing more.”
“He’s lying.” Her words sounded as if they were poured through sand. “You destroyed the depot. And burned countless bales of cotton.”
Moyer stuck his hands in his pockets. “Fables to comfort the dying.”
Morning Fawn flinched.
Devon strode forward and yanked. Three feet closer. With his arms stretched, he curled his fingers around the bars just below Morning Fawn’s.
She startled as if she might withdraw.
Dear God, no. Don’t let her go. Don’t let her believe the devil’s lies about Frieda. His breath came short as he lost himself in her hazel gaze. “You’re the woman I love. You are the woman I wanted…want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“I love you. And only you.” Her words latched hold of his sinking heart and thrust it toward daylight. “Forever.”
Moyer snorted. “It’s time to go.”
“Don’t marry him.” Devon slipped his hands up over hers. Couldn’t she take off the gloves? What if he never saw her again on this earth? “You’d be better off scrubbing floors than to spend one day with the likes of him.” George will have a horse. Find the safe house. He mouthed the words.
Her lips moved.
Moyer tugged on his cuffs. “I like the idea of taming a wildcat. A few months abroad and her puppy-dog infatuation with you will be a distant memory.”
“I’ll do what I have to do,” she said simply.
What was that supposed to mean? Where was her fighting spirit and quick temper?
Maybe they’d threatened her with imprisonment if she didn’t comply.
But that shouldn’t matter. Let her play along with the engagement announcement tonight.
Tomorrow or the next evening, she should be able to slip away.
That part of the escape plan should still be secure. He searched her gaze.
She trembled. “I’m sorry about Christmas Eve. I’ve thought of a half-dozen things I could have done differently, and maybe you wouldn’t be here—”
“It’s not your fault.” He squeezed her hands with all of his might.
“I don’t know what happened at the plantation the night of the attack, but you did not fail me.
I love you.” I will escape and come for you or die trying.
This could not be the end. “If we do not meet again on this earth, we will meet in heaven.” But dear God, let it be on this earth.
She dipped her head and kissed his dirty fingers. “The Lord be with you.”
“Enough.” Moyer grabbed her arm. “This man is going to die because he cared more for another woman than his own life.” He pulled on her. “And you, Reynolds, how selfish of you. You’d ask her to be a poor, lonely spinster if you can’t have her?”
“No. I only ask her to seek the Lord’s guidance. And to know I’ll always love her.” Find the house, he mouthed again.
One hand fell away, but she held tight to the bar with the other. Couldn’t she mouth something back? Devon strained forward. The metal cuff cut into his shin. If only he could get close enough for a kiss.
Moyer yanked her clear. She didn’t resist further, other than to turn and glance over her shoulder for one more lingering look.
Her lips moved soundlessly. “Don’t give up.” Then Moyer had her out the door.
“Why do they have to chain him up like an animal?” Her voice retreated.
“Can’t have the traitor escaping. I don’t even have the key.” The jailer whistled as the door clanked shut.
Don’t give up. Were those really her words or a desperate imagining on his part?