Chapter 20 #2
Recalling with an impatient ache in his loins what he had planned for their afternoon, he nodded in answer to her query and asked, “What’s this about a picnic?”
“It’s such a pretty day, Adam. I thought we could visit that pond you took me to the day after I got here. You know, your favorite place. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. It was so beautiful there, so cool under the willows, and it was so hot in that kitchen…”
She was looking at him so hopefully, he couldn’t refuse her, despite his desire to throw her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs to their room like a barbarian with his captive.
And, he reasoned, noting how her simple day gown clung damply to her body, a trip to the pond didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Perhaps after their meal, she might be willing to strip off her clothes and join him for a swim…
“Done,” he agreed, his pulse racing when she threw a bright smile at him that could light any man’s heart, even one as suspicious as his own.
“Give me a minute,” she said, handing him the basket. “I just have to fetch my straw hat.”
As she raced to the house, her skirts fluttering around her slim ankles, Adam wondered anew about her unsettling change of attitude. He could almost swear she was deliberately going out of her way to please him. Maybe she too had imagined them swimming together and what might come afterward…
Whatever that cunning wench’s plans, Adam thought with sudden unreasoning anger, berating himself for his weakness as he strode to the stable, he didn’t trust her.
For all he knew, she might be acting so agreeable purely out of pity, for once she had seen his ravaged body on their wedding night, her mood had completely changed toward him.
Yet he didn’t want her pity. The only thing he wanted from her was love, and from such a conniving, manipulative woman as Susanna Jane Guthrie, that was impossible. From now on he would watch her with extra care. He didn’t trust her as far as he could see.
“Adam, would you like some more apple cider?” Susanna asked, trying to hide her disappointment.
It seemed that her plan to build some rapport between them with a lighthearted picnic at one of his favorite places was failing miserably.
He had said little to her during their ride here, and now he was acting just as distant, barely touching Prue’s savory chicken pie, corn and cucumber relish, or her own freshly baked bread.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring any wine—”
“Cider is fine,” he replied, scrutinizing her as he held out his empty cup. He seemed to be trying to read her thoughts.
She quickly refilled the cup, her hands trembling a little.
Why was he looking at her as if he was angry with her? She hadn’t done anything to upset him. Lowering her eyes and sighing to herself, she twisted in the stopper and set the bottle back in the basket.
How strange that the more she tried to please him, the more he seemed to retreat from her.
She had done her best this last week to act exactly as he wanted her to, even down to curbing her natural temper which was still pricked that he would have so cruelly lied about being in love with her, but she didn’t think she had gained the slightest favor with him at all.
The only time he dropped his guard was during their lovemaking.
Thankfully his desire for her had not flagged; instead, it seemed he couldn’t get enough of her, which perfectly matched the way she felt about him. When he held her in his arms, his throbbing body buried deep in her own, it was easy to believe that he could one day grow to love her.
Yet she wanted to feel that same harmony when they were alone like this, sitting close together but not touching.
She wanted him to talk to her the way he did when the servants were around, a teasing, affectionate banter she knew was feigned for their benefit but which she desperately wished was real.
She wanted to feel as if he might start to trust her, as he had before he had discovered her deception. Oh, she wanted…she wanted…
You’ve got to be patient, Susanna Jane, she chided herself, glancing out across the placid pond.
Adam hadn’t won his vengeance against Dominick yet.
She would have to bide her time, then, she hoped, begin to make inroads into his heart.
Meanwhile, she would keep on as she had been, trying to rebuild trust between them.
“What are you thinking about?”
His question, almost a demand, startled her, and her wide gaze flew to his face.
“Nothing, really.”
“I don’t believe you. You were frowning to yourself.”
How she hated those words…I don’t believe you. She had heard them so often from him. When would she hear him say, “I believe you” or “my love” again, and mean it?
“I…I was wondering how your morning went in Yorktown,” she replied, knowing he wouldn’t be receptive to what really lay in her heart.
“Well enough.”
“You’ve been traveling so much, Adam. Does it have anything to do with your plans for Dominick?”
Susanna was stunned by the glimmer of suspicion in his eyes. She had only asked him an innocent question!
“That’s none of your concern,” he answered gruffly.
“You might as well know now that I’ll be leaving for Norfolk tomorrow morning, and I probably won’t be back until Friday night.
If it gets late, don’t bother holding supper or waiting up for me.
You’ll need a good night’s rest before the Byrds’ summer ball on Saturday.
We’ll be leaving early in the morning to allow us plenty of time to reach Westover before the festivities begin. ”
“So you’ll be gone tomorrow night?” she asked, not cheered by the prospect of spending a long evening without him. She could already imagine how distressingly empty their bed would feel.
“Yes.” Adam was quiet for a brief moment, then asked suspiciously, “Why do you ask?”
“I’ll miss you.” It was out before she could stop it, but she didn’t regret saying the words, despite the shocked expression on Adam’s face. His surprise quickly vanished, yet she felt a subdued sense of satisfaction that she could cut through his guard, however fleetingly.
As a tense silence settled between them, Adam shifted away from her and grabbed his riding coat from the grass beside him, as if preparing to leave. An intricately carved object slid halfway out of one deep pocket and Susanna noted with heart-stopping alarm that it was the ivory butt of a pistol.
“You’re not going to meet Dominick in a duel, are you, Adam?” she blurted, glancing at him in horror.
“The bastard doesn’t deserve such a swift revenge,” he replied, shoving the pistol back into his coat. “This is for my own protection.”
“Protection?” she queried, her heart pounding faster as stark fear for him gripped her. “From what?”
“I don’t plan on meeting the miserable fate that James Cary suffered at Dominick’s hands. If he comes looking for me with such an intent, he’ll receive a bullet right through his rotting heart.”
Susanna was aghast, but then, why should she be surprised? Dominick had murdered Camille’s father, or so Adam claimed. If he had killed once, he could kill again. “Oh, Adam, this is terrible. Do you think he will…come here looking for you?”
He glanced at her sharply, and his tone was grim as he replied, “It’s possible.
I’m preventing him from possessing the one thing he needs to save himself from financial ruin, just as James did months ago.
Your wealth would have funded his gambling for years to come.
I would say, in fact, that it’s likely he’ll try to kill me if he can find a way to make it look like another accident. ”
“How—how did he kill Mr. Cary?”
“Shot him point-blank while he was out hunting alone, then slumped his body over a fieldstone wall and situated his fired musket so that it looked as if James had accidentally shot himself in the gut while trying to climb over.”
“How horrible.”
“It wasn’t a pretty sight.” Adam swallowed hard, his voice growing heavy with contempt.
“Dominick’s no fool. Although I told the constable about his argument with James the day before the death, and although Josiah vouched for me, Dominick escaped any suspicion.
A prostitute in West Point swore that he had spent the entire afternoon with her.
He knew better than to put Cleo up to such a ruse, even if he could have threatened her into lying for him.
No one takes the word of a black slave over the word of a white man, especially one who sits on the governor’s council. ”
“But, Adam, are you absolutely sure that Dominick murdered Mr. Cary?” she asked, knowing her question would upset him but needing to ask it just the same.
She had wondered about it since he had first revealed his suspicion, but hadn’t dared to ask him until now.
“If no one saw it happen…and there was no proof—”
“You’re right, I have no proof, but you forget how well I know the man,” he said, his eyes ablaze.
“I know that Dominick killed James as surely as I carry this pistol. You can damned well believe what you want.” He snorted in disgust. “Woman, you simply amaze me. After everything I told you last week—”
“I never said I didn’t believe you, Adam. I do.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, and rose in one swift movement to his feet. Sweeping up his coat, he dug in the opposite pocket and withdrew a small wrapped package. He tossed it into the grass at her feet.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Something you’ll need for the Byrds’ party. You can’t go with that piece of metal wrapped around your finger.