Dawn on a Distant Shore (30 page)

The splash of oars
brought her up out of a half-doze, heart pounding. A bateau or a whaleboat, for
a canoe would not make so much noise. She heard men's voices, but could not make
out the language and so she put her face closer to the glass. The boat had
already moved on out of sight. On the other shore cook fires sputtered like
random coals in a cold hearth.

Behind her a door opened.
There was a murmuring of voices: Moncrieff, and Nathaniel. Elizabeth stilled,
tucking her bare feet up under herself; she had no wish to entertain Angus Moncrieff
in her nightdress. After a moment the door opened and closed again.

She waited, and heard
nothing. Just when she thought it might be safe to slip out, Nathaniel's voice
came to her, not five inches away.

"Boots," he
said. "You'd make a godawful spy."

Elizabeth yelped in
surprise and tried to rise from the cushions, only to find it was suddenly
impossible to negotiate her feet out from underneath herself. But it was too
late: Nathaniel had already come inside, the draperies falling to a close. They
were almost eye to eye, for she was kneeling on the high bench in front of him.
The gentle twitching at the corner of his mouth pleased her not at all.

"Why would I make
such a terrible spy?" she demanded.

"Because your
shawl was hanging out there for all the world to see. That's why Moncrieff took
off so quick."

She pulled the end of
the offending garment free of the drapery and wrapped it more securely around
herself. "It is just as well, Nathaniel. I am not dressed to receive
visitors."

"So I see."
He lowered his voice and leaned forward as if to tell her a secret. "I
dinna think he wad ha' minded, ava. He's got a verra keen e'e for the lasses,
does oor Angus. And ye're lookin' aye fine this evenin', Mrs. Bonner, wi' yer
hair aa soft an' curled aboot yer bonnie face."

Elizabeth let out a
high hoot of laughter. "I had no idea you were such a good mimic."

One brow shot up.
"Ah larned guid Scots at ma mither's knee, woman, an' Ah'll thank ye no'
tae forgit it."

She choked back a
laugh. "Is that so? And what other talents have you been hiding from me,
then?"

He blinked at her
thoughtfully as one finger began to skate down the front of her nightdress.
"Talents?" His own voice now, as strong and purposeful as the flick
of a finger that opened first one button, and then another. "I can't think
of any, offhand. Except maybe this knack I've got for making you blush."
Three more buttons, and the white linen gaped open from neck to waist.

"See?"

He was tugging at her
shawl. She tugged back, but without effect. "Nathaniel! Perhaps this demonstration
should wait--"

But he cut her off
neatly, catching her up against him, his arm like a vise at her waist so that she
could feel him from knee to shoulder. A flush started in the pit of her stomach
and curled up like smoke. Oh yes, he had that knack. If she let him start, she
would not be able to stop him--or herself.

She turned her head so
that his mouth caught her cheek. "It grieves me to say this, Nathaniel,
but this is not the time nor the place."

"And why
not?" His fingers were tangled in her hair where it fell to the small of
her back, jerking every nerve into near painful wakefulness.

"Your father and
Robbie--"

"Hip-deep in
Pickering's gun collection and not about to come back here, Boots. I'll have to
fetch them when Bears shows up."

"Yes, exactly.
Runs-from-Bears and Will should be back any moment."

"If that's all you're
worried about," Nathaniel said hoarsely, "then don't. We'll be the
first to see the canoe from here."

She struggled harder.
"Yes, and they will see us! The whole river can see us here." With a
wiggle she was out of his arms. She turned, putting her hands against the
casement to steady herself. "Look!"

The river was empty.
Ships rocked gently at docks for as far as they could see, and not a light
burned in any of them.

"Aye, Boots. I'm
looking."

His hands were
everywhere. She tried to turn back to him but he held her still with his body,
his mouth at her ear. "Tell me you don't want me."

"I don't want
you."

"Liar." His
hand slipped inside her nightdress, fingers moving restlessly.

"Yes, yes, yes. I
am a liar," she said, struggling against him in vain. "But oh, Nathaniel,
the
windows
--"

"Damn the
windows," he muttered. In one motion he pulled the open nightdress down
over her shoulders, pressing her forward, bare breasts to the cold glass so
that she jerked with the shock of it. Then he let her go and stripped before
she could gather her thoughts--
did she want this? Dear God, yes, but the
windows!
--and then he was there again.

He crowded up behind
her and put his mouth to her neck, breathing a slow litany of promises into her
ear while his hands moved over her, folding the hem of her nightdress up around
her waist. The words held her in a trance, startling, powerful words. He could
coax water from stone with this voice of his, but she was not stone, nothing
like stone. Against the cleft of her buttocks his cock was proof enough of
that. His hands insistent on her thighs; all was lost.

"The
windows," she muttered. To be cursed both with mind and heart. And with
eyes: for there they were, faint reflections in the window glass, coupling for
themselves and for all the world.

"We
mustn't."

He paused, his mouth
hovering over her shoulder. "Don't you want me, Elizabeth?"

"I want you,
yes," she hissed. Because she could not lie to him, or herself. "But
I can't, I can't."

"Oh, but you can,
darlin'." And so he showed her, bent her to his will, and to her own.
Covered her and filled her, his mouth on her neck, one arm like a pillar,
supporting both of them. The other arm was around her waist, pulling her up and
back to meet him. And even the world gave in, retreated and left nothing behind
but Nathaniel, the long muscles of his thighs tensed behind her, the heat and
the heft of him, his body deep in hers and all around her and still he
struggled, they struggled together to bring him closer.

And in the window
glass she watched it all, saw their faces torn apart with furious need and stitched
back together thrust by thrust. His cheek pressed against her temple and his
eyes flashing with the beat of her heart, ready to burst for him. She watched
it happen. She would remember it as long as she lived.

An hour later
Nathaniel woke Elizabeth with the news that the first mate had sighted Runs-from-Bears
and Will from the quarterdeck. She had barely enough time to dress and tame her
hair into a plait before they were on board. With the exception of Curiosity,
all of the party assembled around the cherrywood table with its covered silver
platters, porcelain dishes, and crystal goblets, finery never meant for rough
hands. To all this Bears added a bundle wrapped in buckskin and tied with a length
of spruce root.

"That's a mighty
small parcel to keep you away such a long time." Nathaniel spoke English,
because Will and Moncrieff were with them still.

Bears shrugged and
reached for the cold beef. "You want the whole story now?"

Hawkeye cast a
sidelong glance in Moncrieff's direction. "I expect we're all curious, but
it'll have to wait. Lots going on while you were away."

Beside Elizabeth, Will
put down his glass. "I should say so. It did give me a start to see the
Nancy
so dark and deserted."

Nathaniel said,
"We're better off here for the moment."

Elizabeth was much
relieved that he didn't feel it necessary to raise the topic of Mac Stoker. Her
pride was still too raw, and Angus Moncrieff was still too much of a stranger
to be trusted with such a confession.

Hawkeye explained what
there was to know about the
Providence
in a few sentences. Will's expression
brightened even before he finished.

"Well, then,
you're off now to have a talk with her captain, I take it? Can I be of any assistance?"

"I dinna think it
would be wise," Moncrieff said. "The man lost a leg at Lexington, and
he's been nane too fond o' Englishmen ever since. He didna care overmuch for
me, either, so p'rhaps it'd be best if I stayed clear of Henry Parker."

Robbie's head came up
with a snap. "Wad that be Henry Parker o' Boston?"

Moncrieff scratched
his chin thoughtfully. "Aye, I believe he is from Boston. A wee mannie,
with a fringe o' hair the color of straw and stare like a new-sharpened bayonet."

"That could weel
be him," said Robbie with a grin. "I served wi' a Henry Parker for
five years under Isaac Putnam. Hawkeye, d'ye remember him? He was always
whittlin' awa' at birds."

Hawkeye stretched and
pushed back his chair. "I do remember him. I suppose we better get along
and see if it's the same man. Don't forget the coin, Nathaniel--as I remember,
Henry Parker drives a Yankee bargain."

In no time at all
Nathaniel, Hawkeye, and Robbie had directions to the spot farther downriver
where the
Providence
was at dock, collected their weapons and got
themselves ready to go. Elizabeth wished for a moment alone with Nathaniel but
had to be satisfied with slipping the strap of his carry bag over his shoulder
and taking the chance to touch his cheek.

"Don't be
long," she said quietly. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her
palm.

"You'd best be
ready to go right quick," said Hawkeye, squeezing her shoulder on his way
out. "It may happen all at once."

Moncrieff went up on
deck to make sure they reached their destination, and they were gone with just
a nod and a smile.

"It's time I was
away to my lodgings," Will said.

"Oh, no,"
said Elizabeth, drawing him down to sit on the chaise longue next to her. "You
and Runs-from-Bears have some explaining to do. You had me very worried."

Bears plucked up the
bundle from the table and tossed it to Elizabeth without comment. Inside were some
large pieces of cured doeskin of very high quality, a smaller piece of heavier buckskin,
a bone needle and a paper of three steel needles, a bowl of loose beads with a fitted
lid, and a small basket of spooled threads.

Elizabeth ran her palm
over the doeskin. "Hannah asked for these things?"

He shook his head.
"She wanted Kahnyen'kehâka clothing, but there was none to be had. It was
the best I could do."

"But I don't
understand. Why would you go off on such an errand?"

He blinked at her.
"Squirrel asked me." He spoke English, which took her by surprise.
Then she saw Will's expression and she knew two things: whatever had happened
on the other side of the river, they had acted together, and were of one mind;
and more, neither of them wanted her to know too much about it. More trouble.
Elizabeth had a good chance of arguing them into divulging whatever it was, but
right now it was all she could do to keep her mind on the night ahead.

Will cleared his
throat softly. "I'm sorry we worried you, cousin."

"You are as
mysterious as you ever were," Elizabeth said, getting up to put the bundle
on the desk. "But it is too late to interrogate you now. Tomorrow you must
find passage. My aunt and Amanda will be waiting for you."

A flickering in Will's
normally placid expression and then he turned away from her.

Elizabeth said,
"Perhaps it would be better not to trouble my aunt with the details. I
expect that otherwise she might make things rather difficult for you."

He laughed softly.
"You cannot begrudge Amanda and me the bit of drama and adventure Lady
Crofton brings into our quiet lives. Leave my mother-in-law to me, can
you?"

"I have little
choice," Elizabeth agreed. And then, more soberly: "I will miss you, Will."

With an abrupt
movement he turned back to her. "You are not the only one with a
confession to make, Elizabeth. Since we left Albany I have been at a loss on
how to introduce a rather ... difficult topic, but I see time has run out on
me."

Elizabeth let out an
awkward laugh. "So dramatic, cousin? You have me worried."

He shook his head.
"You needn't worry for me. At least, not so long as I stay out of England,
you need not worry for me. You have heard perhaps of the London Corresponding
Society?"

Because she could not
trust her voice, Elizabeth merely nodded.

"Your expression
is priceless, Lizzy."

"Will,"
Elizabeth said. "Are you telling me that you are one of the gentlemen
charged with advocating revolution on the French model?"

He flushed.
"Revolution? But of course not, Elizabeth. The society prefers the term
"reform."" He rubbed his forehead and allowed himself a small
smile, just a glimpse of the old Will she knew so well. "I suppose I
should not be surprised that you are familiar with all of this."