Ashes in the Wind
“Roberta? Are you ill?”
Alaina waited in trembling disquiet as she listened for his approach. Cole was puzzled by his wife’s uncharacteristic taciturnity. If she was still sulking because he had been unable to attend the ball, then he was in for another night of argument and strife.
Cole tossed the cheroot into the fireplace and neared the screen. He was just reaching to fold it back when the whole thing fell forward, pushed by a decisive force from behind. The top caught him squarely across the chest as a pale shape leapt past him. Angrily Cole tossed off the screen, reached out an arm and snatched a handful of thin cloth. A rending tear preceded a startled gasp, then a small, slippered foot kicked at his shins.
“Dammit, Roberta! What’s gotten into you?” He ignored the hands that slapped at him and jerked her around roughly. Alaina stumbled against the bed and, in great trepidation, quickly scampered across it. Cole was just irritated enough to lunge after her, his fingers reaching to ensnare her. In the next moment, her gown was all he had. The batiste was fragile with age and needed no more than a gentle tug to separate it completely. The strain Cole placed upon it was not light by any measure, and the whole thing shredded apart like the most fragile gossamer.
Cole tossed the gown aside and swung around the massive bedpost to fling himself toward the now naked woman. The vague blur of pale bodies in the dark room gave away their movements, and seeing him near her, Alaina abruptly changed directions and scurried to the opposite side of the bed. Cole was faster and leaped around the corner post in time to catch her full against him. The sudden contact of their bodies came as something of a shock to both of them. There was only the briefest meeting of soft, bare bosom against hard, furred chest before Alaina tore away with a gasp. But in that abbreviated encounter, Cole became certain of one thing. This was not Roberta! The form was too small, too slim, too light. He reached out a hand, brushing her hair, and immediately it all came back to him. The short hair! The slim body! His mind rebelled in disbelief.
“Who the hell!” His eyes probed the darkness for her features as he demanded in a hoarse whisper, “Who are you? Who—are—you?”
Lightning seared the sky in a brilliant, almost blinding flash, and in that moment, her hair tousled and unkempt, Al was plainly visible.
“Good lord!” Cole cried. There was a glimpse of her pale, heaving breasts with the gold medallion gleaming tauntingly between. “Al!”
“Alaina!” The whisper was like a pained scream in the room.
“It was you! It was you that night!”
Alaina tried to snatch away, but he caught her wrists. She fought him, wildly twisting and writhing in an attempt to gain her freedom.
“Will you be still!” he cried and, when she would not, increased the pressure of his grip upon the delicately boned wrists. Stubbornly Alaina resisted the pain until finally Cole gave up the tactic, not wishing to hurt her unduly. Instead, grasping both her wrists into one hand, he gathered her close with his free arm and stifled her struggles against him. Alaina’s eyes opened wide with alarm.
“No!” she railed, suddenly afraid of his intentions. They were in the house alone, and there was no one to stop him if he chose to take her again. “Let me go!”
“Be still then,” he commanded.
Slowly she quieted, and Cole loosened his hold, but as soon as he did, Alaina came alive with a flurry. She escaped his grasp and, without pause, sought to extend that condition with further flight. She was just reaching for the doorknob when he caught her again. Cole’s memory was like a book being opened wide for the first time, and he wanted some answers.
Blindly, insanely, Alaina fought him, trying to claw his hand away from her arm. The night he had taken her virginity was far too vivid in her memory. She would not misjudge his strength or his ardor again! In her state of undress, she was far too vulnerable, and she wanted to be safe in her room with the door barred between them.
“Stop it!” He caught her hand in his. “I just want to talk.”
He pressed her back against the wall and tried to still her frantic threshing with the weight of his own body, but he was too conscious of her warm body and of the soft nipples that seemed to burn into his chest. He was becoming increasingly aroused, and her struggles only sharpened his desires. Moisture popped from his pores, and it was a labor to remember that he was even partly a gentleman.
“Ooooh n-o-o-o!” Alaina moaned in dismay. His thighs crushed her own quaking limbs, and his excitement was blatantly obvious to her.
Cole snatched away and pulled her to where he had seen a white garment on the bed. It was her robe that he thrust at her.
“Dress yourself!”
Alaina hastily complied, though she found it impossible to stop her violent shaking and the robe offered her meager protection.
“Where is the lamp?” Cole questioned sharply, as provoked with himself as he was with her.
Alaina’s voice quavered as she answered. “Behind the screen.”
“Don’t run away again,” he warned darkly. “You owe me that much, and I’m just in the mood to tear this damn house apart to find you.”
“I owe you nothing, Yankee,” Alaina sniffed with open mutiny in her tone.
“Stay where you are!” Cole commanded sharply. After setting the screen upright, he felt around until he located the lamp and returned it to its place on the bureau. “I intend to find out just what the hell is going on here.”
He touched a sulfur match to the wick and, replacing the chimney, turned it up until its glow drove the shadows back into the corners. Reaching out, he pulled Alaina close to the lamp and cupped her chin in his hand, raising her face full to the light. Tears streamed down her cheeks at this rude examination, but Cole could only stare in wonder.
“By damn! I should have known!”
The dark brown hair, with highlights of red, framed a creamy-skinned visage. The lips were soft and sensuous; the eyes a clear sparkling shade of gray fringed by thick, black lashes. Even with the undisguised fullness of womanhood, the features were unmistakably Al’s.
A chuckle started deep in Cole’s chest. “I should have given you a bath the first day we met.”
“Fool! Idiot!” Then as if these words were not bad enough, she spat, “Yankee!”
He seemed oblivious to the epithets as he turned her face first to the left, then to the right. “How old are you?”
She glared up at him, grinding her teeth as she answered bitterly, “Seventeen . . . going on eighteen.”
Cole heaved a sigh of relief. “I feared you were much younger.” Another light dawned in his skull. “Alaina!” He raised a brow. “Perhaps Alaina MacGaren?”
“Of course!” She flung his hand away from her and rubbed her arm where his fingers had bruised it. “Alaina MacGaren! Spy! Murderess! Enemy of both North and South! What is it now? Two thousand for my head? What will you do with it all?”
“Dammit, girl, if you were with me, then you couldn’t have—”
“You are so swift in your deductions,” Alaina sneered derisively. “But tell me, Captain Latimer, who will be my defender? I carried a dead man’s effects to his commander and became a spy for refusing a Yankee’s fondling. I was forced to flee my home and become a lad! Will you destroy Roberta’s name to clear mine? Or will you make up some lie to tell, then stumble over your hidebound honor in its telling and trap me all the more firmly? Will you condemn the Craighughs to prison for having aided a fugitive? Will you plead you mistook the virgin, decry your vows, and make the whole thing seem right in your muddled mind?”
Alaina sidled away from him and silently vowed to shred his arm if he tried to touch her again. Glaring at him, she hissed through clenched teeth, “Do you think I will plead for my salvation from a Yankee? Do what you will! Seek out your pride and honor, but do not hope to find your conscience clean and laundered upon my couch! Go find your loving bride, the one you chose. But leave me be!”
She choked on the sobs that welled up, and
blinded by tears, she whirled and flew to the door, flinging it wide. Her gasp of horror made Cole look around. Roberta, in all of her finery, stood before the door with jaw hanging aslack. For a stunned moment, the woman could do nothing more than stare wild eyed at the girl, then her gaze traveled downward to the transparency of the skimpy robe before her eyes flew to Cole and took in his indecent attire.
“The minute my back is turned”—she advanced like a raging hurricane, while Alaina stumbled back before the onslaught of her fury—“you two are at your dirty little games! There’s no telling just how long you both have been—” Her next words were such obscene accusations, Cole’s temper flared.
“Roberta! Shut your damned mouth!”
She turned to him, and her voice became a wheedling whine. “How could you? How could you go behind my back with this—this tramp? Do you take to bed every little hussy who offers herself?”
Alaina gasped in outrage. “I never!”
“Whore!” Roberta screamed stridently, and in the next instant Alaina’s ears were ringing from the vicious slap hurled against her cheek. Before Cole could step between, Alaina came around full circle with her small fist clenched tight. She was not as genteel as Cole had been that morning. Indeed, she had mimed the lad far too long. Her knuckles met Roberta’s jaw with a solid thunk and with enough force to spin the larger woman about. Roberta stumbled away and collapsed into an overstuffed chair, instantly losing all desire to engage in further combat with her irascible cousin. Closing her eyes, she stayed carefully still.
Cole quickly stepped to the washstand, wet a cloth, and reached to dab at the small, red trickle of blood that ran from the corner of Alaina’s mouth, but she ducked away.
“Don’t touch me, Yankee!” she snarled the warning. “Just keep your hands to yourself.” She yanked the cloth from him and glowered. “You’ve done enough damage!”
With a last smug smirk at the recumbent Roberta, Alaina pulled the robe snugly about her and, spinning on her heel, made a haughty exit from the room, closing the door quite forcefully behind her.
Cole dampened another cloth and approached Roberta’s chair. She proved rather spritely herself as she snatched the rag from his hand and fairly flew to the mirror. Worriedly, she leaned close to inspect the damage and dabbed gingerly at the visible red mark on her jaw.
“Ohhh!” she wailed. “I’m marred for life! I’ll never be the same! She’s ruined my face!” Her eyes narrowed menacingly. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get even with that little bitch.”
“At the rate of exchange just witnessed, my dear,” Cole returned dryly, “I would suggest a careful approach to this matter of revenge, lest you find yourself hopelessly in debt.”
Roberta tossed her head arrogantly. “Lainie’s always been jealous of me. She’s always envied my beauty and, every chance she’s gotten, has tried to hurt me. If that little whore thinks she can get away with this—”
Cole firmly shut the window against the chill breeze. The main storm had moved away, leaving in its wake a light drizzle that splattered against the glass.
“Since she was the virgin in my bed and you were not, Roberta,” he smiled at her stiffly. “I would further suggest a more accurate choice of appellations. Those you toss about so casually have a way of coming home to roost.”
Roberta grew worried and fretful. “Whatever do you mean, Cole darling? What did Lainie tell you? You, of all people should know she can’t be trusted. Why, she even betrayed those poor, helpless prisoners—”
Cole looked at her sharply, and she stumbled to a mute halt. Scowling, he selected a pair of dry trousers from his wardrobe and jerked them on. “She told me nothing, Roberta. And you, my dear, of all people”—the words stung more on the return—“stand witness to the fact that Alaina had no part in that slaughter upriver.”
He removed a heavy woolen campaign shirt from the armoire and as he slipped into it, Roberta searched his face for a hint of meaning.
“How would I know that?” she asked cautiously.
Cole paused in buttoning the shirt. “Is it so difficult to understand, madam? The simple truth is that Alaina was the woman I made love to that night—the only one. Therefore, my dear, it was you who played your dirty little trick on us.”
“That’s a lie!” Roberta panted and struggled to conjure some evidence to bear out her untruth. “A vicious lie! I tell you, Cole, Alaina has filled your head with lies! You were too drunk to remember, but—”
Roberta jumped in trepidation as Cole threw down his boots in front of the straight chair. “You do err, madam. I may have been drunk, but that I do remember.” He sat down to tug on the boots. “It always confused me because you were so different from the girl I held in my arms that night. But until this very evening, I could not imagine anyone else in this house being the one. At least, now I know the truth.”
Roberta accepted his words with dismay. What she had done was out in the open. Her greatest fear was that Cole would set her aside. Without his money, she would go back to a dowdy and boring existence. She would never go to Washington. She was distressed at the idea of being made the laughtingstock of all those drearily garbed widows she had haughtily snubbed.
Plaintively she held out her hands to Cole. “Oh, darling! I only did it because I loved you so much.” She decided a mild wringing of her hands and a confused countenance would enhance her plight. “Why, Cole, you just don’t know how I yearned for you.” She smiled helplessly as she moved to him and slipped onto his lap. “I was beside myself when I found you had been with Lainie. I just couldn’t give you up without a fight.” She tugged at his hand and brought it to her breast. “Am I not more beautiful? Am I not more of a woman?”
Cole met her gaze without any warmth. “Madam, that little twit of a girl, for all her boyish mien, could give lessons on the art of being a woman at the local bawdy house.” He smiled dispassionately. “At least, she’s not afraid of a man mussing her hair.”
With an indignant gasp, Roberta shot to her feet and drew back her hand to strike him across the face. Cole’s eyes never wavered as they rested coldly upon her. But with the most recent experience still fresh in her mind, she thought better of it. She had other ways of cutting through a man.
“She must have proven herself an eager little beggar for you to remember her so well. But then, you seem to have a preference for lewd women, and I can imagine she performed her chores well.”
“Chores!” Cole laughed shortly. “Egads, it’s true! You approach making love as a labor!”
Roberta lifted her nose primly. “You don’t think a lady enjoys being pawed, do you?”
“If sharing some pleasure in the act of marriage is beyond the confines of a lady, then to hell with ladies!” Cole growled. He threw his leather case onto the bed before continuing ominously. “Whatever Alaina is, be assured it was her performance that night that snared you a husband.”
“What do you mean?” Roberta hotly insisted, grabbing his sleeve and trying to turn him. “What do you mean?”
Cole faced her and leaned forward until Roberta was forced to sit quite abruptly in the overstuffed chair behind her. Disregarding the tapestry covering, he propped a booted foot on the seat beside her hips and, bracing an arm across his knee, bent down to meet her eyes squarely.
“The one thing that stood out from that night was the pleasure I had with that woman. So, whatever the reason you claim for plotting your trap, you have Alaina to thank for its success.”
“I don’t believe that,” Roberta scoffed. “As I remember it, Daddy took the matter entirely out of your hands.”
“Madam, I am a doctor, but then, I am also a soldier. Do you honestly think a doddering old man is going to frighten me witless? Whatever you might think, my dear, your father was not the most proficient of wardens. I might have escaped had I not gotten my mind entangled with those blissful moments I spent with Alaina.”
Roberta twisted her hands in honest dismay as Cole returned stoic
ally to his packing. The silence dragged out an eternity, and she could not stand the suspense any longer. Almost tremulously, she asked, “Are you leaving me?”
“Never fear, my dear,” he smiled sardonically. “I will take you to Washington and parade you on my arm as is your wish. I’ve made my bed and I must lie in it.”
“Then where are you going?”
“General Banks is going on a campaign up the Red River. Until a few moments ago, I was undecided as to whether I should volunteer. I have made my decision to go.”
“But you could be gone for months! What am I going to do in the meantime?”
Cole leisurely surveyed her ball gown as he hefted his case. “I’m sure you will find some form of entertainment in my absence. I can’t believe you’ll be greatly deterred from having a good time while I’m gone.”
“But, Cole,” she whined and followed him to the door where he paused to look at her. “What if something should happen to you? Are there not certain matters you should attend to before you go?”
“If you mean the arrangement of financial matters, my dear,” his tone was harsh, “I see no cause to leave my estate to you. You’ll be suitably cared for, and if there should be an heir, everything will be held in trust for the child by my lawyer. Otherwise, you’ll receive a monthly pension from my holdings.” He smiled briefly. “The rest will be donated to charity since there is no further kin.”
“What about Alaina?”
“That, madam, is none of your damned business,” he returned crisply.
Anxiously she stepped into the hall behind him. “But I’m your wife.”
“I’ll leave the buggy at the hospital, and when you get word we’ve moved out, you can send Jedediah for it,” he said, ignoring her statement. His eyes moved impassively toward Alaina’s closed door as he strode to the stairs. He could hear the click of Roberta’s sharp heels behind him and faced her at the head of the stairs. “You might brace yourself, madam, for the move to Minnesota when the war is over.”