Chapter 7 #2
Susanna’s gaze skipped to the writing desk. Some sort of journal lay open, and she decided to take a closer look. She normally wasn’t one to pry into someone’s personal diary, but in this case, she felt her curiosity justified.
She was disappointed to discover that the journal held only a day-to-day account of plantation business, written in a stilted scrawl.
How strange, she thought, perusing the spare, matter-of-fact entries which made only slight mention of her: Miss Cary arrived today…
Tour of Briarwood with Miss Cary. Hadn’t Adam received any schooling when he was younger, in England before he came to Virginia or under Dominick Spencer’s employ?
From the scratched-out words and occasional ink blots, it appeared not.
But then, she hadn’t had her first writing lesson until she was thirteen, so their backgrounds weren’t so dissimilar.
Susanna’s gaze fixed upon the last entry which to her surprise held that day’s date.
Adam had clearly come here before he went to the house, writing simply that Cary’s Finest had survived the heavy rains.
Bastard! If he had had the energy to do this, why couldn’t he have made an effort to give her some kind of report before—
She jumped up from the stool with a gasp as heavy footsteps sounded upon the stairs. Grabbing the nearest book from the shelf, she plopped into the stuffed chair just as the door opened. Her heart pounding, she stared blindly at the pages in front of her.
“I thought I might find you here, my love. I saw your horse outside.”
Thrilled more than she would ever admit by Adam’s husky voice, and chagrined that she had been caught snooping again, Susanna did not have to feign her discomfort as she glanced up to find him walking toward her.
Her breath caught sharply, and she marveled anew at his dark good looks.
After not seeing him for three days, she had forgotten how intensely handsome he was, despite that his face was deeply lined with fatigue and that mud was spattered from his head to the toes of his thigh-high jackboots.
He was smiling at her, making her heart thump all the harder.
“I’m sorry, Adam. I should have asked your permission first…but I was riding by the coach house and since Ertha said you had an office here, I thought I’d take a look—”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Camille. I don’t mind you coming up here, but I do question your choice of literature. Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales? I would think that story too bawdy for a young lady, but I guess it does have its touch of romanticism. And do you always read books upside down?”
Susanna realized to her dismay that it was indeed Chaucer, a lusty tale long banned in Lady Redmayne’s home, and yes, it was upside down. Her cheeks fired with warmth. She really didn’t know what to say to explain herself, so she decided to ignore his observation altogether.
“You were looking for me?” she asked, setting the book aside with studied nonchalance. Her obvious skirting of the issue must have amused him, for he chuckled, nodding.
“Corliss told me you had gone for a ride out to the fields, so I decided to follow you and give you the good news about the crop. Then I spied your horse…” He paused, his gaze moving appraisingly over her mauve riding dress.
“You look very charming this morning, my love. That color suits you. It heightens the beauty of your eyes.”
His compliment warming her further, Susanna guiltily chided herself for her harsh judgment of him.
So he had made an effort to find her despite his apparent exhaustion.
Yet she wished he wouldn’t use that term of endearment.
He obviously believed she was a romantic ninny and easily swayed by pretty words.
Familiar aggravation bubbled inside her at his confident presumption, quickly overshadowing her remorse.
“So you say that everything is fine with the tobacco crop, Adam?” she asked, suddenly uncomfortable in such close confines with him.
His sheer physical size seemed to dwarf the small room, and it didn’t help that he smelled so overpoweringly masculine, a musky combination of sweat, dirt, and horses which to her surprise she found quite appealing.
“Mr. Skinner told me that, too, but I wanted to hear it from you. I’ve been worried—”
“Camille, you must learn not to worry unless I give you reason to do so,” he interrupted her gently, his smile fading as his expression grew serious.
“If there had been any critical problems, I would have told you long before this morning. I wouldn’t purposely leave you in the dark, especially about something so important.
You must trust me in this, as your father did. ”
Trust you? she thought incredulously. How can I trust you when I know exactly what kind of man you are? Greedy, ambitious, opportunistic. Why, the list could go on and on!
“I care about this plantation as much as you do,” Adam continued, shrugging out of his filthy coat and tossing it on the floor.
“I’ve worked this land for five years, Camille.
I’ve done everything I know to make it what it is today.
” He began to unfasten the buttons on his vest. “There were many times during the past three days when I wanted to leave the fields to reassure you, but I decided against it, thinking that if I turned my back for a minute, the rain might win the battle we were waging. So I stayed. If this caused you undue concern, then I apologize. But I did what I thought was best.”
Susanna, staring at him wide-eyed as he flung his sweat-stained vest on top of his coat, scarcely heard what he was saying. Then he began to undo the top buttons of his shirt, baring an upper chest that was sleek and powerfully defined with muscle.
What in bloody hell was he doing? Was he going to continue to undress right in front of her? Perhaps he was thinking he was going to undress her, too! At the unseemly flash of excitement that raced through her, she wanted to curse aloud. Sweet Lord, she had to get out of here!
“I—I should go, Adam,” she stammered, rising abruptly and hurrying past him to the door, so close that her arm brushed against his.
She pulled away as if stung and, spinning around to walk backward now, crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she gazed apprehensively at him.
“I don’t know why you’re taking off your clothes, but—”
“Camille, I’m going to sleep here,” he interjected, humor lighting his eyes, although he suddenly looked twice as weary.
“What?”
“Sleep,” he repeated, nodding at the narrow bed. `Here. There’s too much commotion at the house today, what with the preparations for the ball, the cleaning, Ertha fussing…” He shook his head. “I knew the minute I walked in there this morning that I’d never get any rest.”
“Oh, yes, the ball,” Susanna mumbled, feeling her cheeks redden. She would never understand why this man could so easily fluster her, yet it was clear that this time she had brought it upon herself.
Adam’s hands fell from his half-unbuttoned shirt and he sat down heavily on the bed, his fatigue obviously catching up with him. “I’ll meet you for dinner, my love. Looking forward to it. One more evening to be alone before all the guests arrive in the morning. I just need to sleep for a while…”
Susanna watched as, wholly exhausted, he closed his eyes and sank back upon the mattress, muddy boots and all.
It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t thanked him for everything he’d done to save this year’s tobacco crop, but she was clearly too late.
Already he was asleep, his breathing deep and even, his muscular body totally relaxed.
She stood there for a long moment, listening to him breathe, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, and not quite knowing why she did so.
Then she quietly opened the door. Yet she didn’t leave until she had first tiptoed over to the bed and drawn the wool blanket up to his shoulders, scarcely breathing herself for fear she might wake him.
As she stared down at his face, Susanna had the strangest impulse to touch his stubbled cheek, just to see how his skin felt beneath her fingertips. Instead, her heart beating hard, she hurried from the room and closed the door softly behind her.