Defiant Impostor (26 page)

"So, Camille, to what do I owe the honor of your
beautiful presence today?" Dominick queried from where he stood leaning against
the bare mantelpiece, his ice-blue eyes moving over her appreciatively.

Embarrassed that her thoughts were running on about
having children and they weren't even formally engaged yet, Susanna felt her
face grow warm. She didn't know how else to broach the matter for which she had
come to Raven's Point other than to get right to the heart of it. She cleared
her throat delicately, staring at her hands, clasped nervously in her lap.

"Dominick, you've made it clear to me since my
welcome ball that you would like to become my . . ." She paused, concerned
by how forward she would surely appear to him.

"Your husband. Yes, I want that very much. I've
wanted it since I heard the news last winter that you were returning to
Virginia. I knew that we were perfectly suited to each other."

Relieved and grateful that he had been the one to say
it first, she met his suddenly intent gaze. Now that the subject was opened,
there would be no turning back. She rushed on, eager to have done with it.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that because—well . .
. I came to Raven's Point to tell you that you've made a very favorable
impression upon me during the past few weeks, more so than any other gentleman
I've met." Unwittingly she thought of Adam, but she quickly forced his stirring
image from her mind. "And I've decided that I would be willing to consider
announcing a . . . announcing a—"

"Betrothal?"

"Yes, between you and me." Blushing at the
bluntness of her announcement, Susanna was so overwhelmed by the import of what
she had just done that she blurted out, "I know these things aren't
usually handled like this . . . it's so bold of me, but I didn't know when we
would find the time alone to discuss the matter. I've been rushing here and
there, hardly ever at home, and there's always been someone to interrupt
us—Matthew Grymes, one of the Carter boys, Thomas Dandridge. I thought if I
came to you instead—"

Susanna fell abruptly silent when he cupped her chin,
his fingers cool and smooth against her skin. There was tension in his touch,
but his expression was not one of displeasure. He looked . . . triumphant.

"I can't tell you how happy you've made me today,
Camille," he said, his gaze boring into hers. "Your method may be
unconventional, but I respect you for being a young woman who knows what she
wants and doesn't hesitate to go after it. We are much alike in that
respect." Grasping her hands, he drew her up in front of him but made no
move to embrace her. "If I may have your consent, I would like to announce
our betrothal as soon as possible. I haven't relished the constant competition,
nor will I tolerate it now that we've reached an understanding."

"Whatever you like, Dominick," Susanna heard
herself say, numbed by how easily her troubling situation was being resolved.

"Tomorrow at the Tates', then."

Her thoughts flashed to Adam. Dear God, what would he
say when he heard the news? What would he do?

"Is something wrong, my dear? If that is too soon,
we could wait another day or two—"

"No, no, tomorrow will be fine," she said,
feeling strangely sick inside, although by rights she should be overjoyed that
everything was working out to her satisfaction. She tried to tell herself that
she didn't care one whit about Adam's reaction. She had, after all, been
waiting for the chance to set him in his place!

"Excellent. I might even visit some of my
neighbors this afternoon just to give them the wonderful news. I expect you'll
want to leave here within an hour or so if you wish to be home before dark. In
fact, I demand that you do. I don't want my future bride on the road after
sunset."

"Yes, I hadn't planned to stay very long,"
Susanna murmured, her thoughts skittering ahead to the hours she must still
spend alone with Adam . . . knowing what she did now. She was scarcely aware
that Dominick had drawn her closer until she felt his lips, hard and cool,
cover hers.

Amazingly, she felt nothing—no desire, no passion—which
surprised her considering that this man was soon to become her husband. His
embrace was certainly not like those she had shared with Adam.

No, you will not compare them with each other! she
berated herself as Dominick gradually deepened the kiss, his arms almost
hurting her as he clasped her tightly to his chest. He parted her lips roughly
with his tongue, and his breath began to come in short, ragged spurts as he
explored her mouth. Still she felt no excitement, although she did her best to
return his kiss, as an inexperienced young woman would.

As his embrace grew more demanding, she kept telling
herself that in time she would feel with Dominick the way she had in Adam's
arms. In time she would know that same weakness in her limbs, that same
wildness welling deep inside her, the same incredible craving for more of his
touch.

She almost imagined that she was experiencing the
slightest response when Dominick abruptly released her and moved away, yet in
her heart she knew she hadn't felt a thing. Discomfited because their first
kiss had been so unfulfilling, she was relieved when a soft knock came at the
door.

"Come in," Dominick said, his thin,
self-assured smile easing her mind. Thankfully he hadn't noticed her lack of
response during their embrace.

The door opened, revealing a stunningly beautiful black
woman dressed simply in a blue linen gown and apron. Tall and willowy, she had
the proud bearing of a queen as she carried in a tray holding a pitcher of
lemonade and two glasses, yet her features were strangely expressionless. It
was almost as if she had gone through a lifetime of keeping her emotions to
herself. Only her dark oval eyes gave any clue as to what she was thinking, and
they were filled with pity as she glanced at Susanna while setting the tray
upon a table.

"I don't usually introduce my servants to
guests," said Dominick, "but I want you to meet Cleo, my housekeeper.
She's been at Raven's Point since I bought her as a young girl off a slave ship
from Barbados. Cleo, this is the future Mrs. Dominick Spencer, Miss Camille
Cary. She'll soon be your new mistress."

"Miss Cary," the woman said with a lilting
accent, dropping a slow curtsy.

"It's a pleasure, Cleo," Susanna murmured,
wondering why the housekeeper was looking at her so oddly.

"I think you'll be pleased with her work,"
Dominick continued smoothly. "She manages the house slaves well, and she
also knows how to read and write. I had her specially tutored after my wife
passed away, since I needed someone who could run the household when I'm not
here."

Susanna offered Cleo a kind smile. "I'm sure we'll
get along just fine—"

"Yes, now if you'll excuse us for a moment,"
Dominick broke in, not allowing the housekeeper even a chance to respond. He
indicated by a slight touch on Cleo's arm that she was to follow him into the
hall. The woman visibly stiffened, but her lovely face remained blank,
betraying no emotion, and now neither did her ebony eyes. Without a word, she
lowered her head and left the room.

Trying not to eavesdrop, Susanna heard Dominick mention
Corliss to the housekeeper, then something about having the cook prepare a light
dinner. Then they moved further into the hall and she couldn't hear any more.
When Dominick returned, Cleo was gone. He poured them both some lemonade and
handed Susanna a glass, then laced his drink with whiskey.

"Cleo will let us know when dinner is ready. It
shouldn't be long. We'll talk until then."

"Oh, I was hoping I might see the rest of the
house and perhaps the grounds," she said, taking a sip of lemonade.

His frown surprised her. "Another time," he
said. "There will be plenty of occasions in the weeks ahead to see
everything. Today, my dearest Camille, let us simply enjoy each other's
company. Come, a toast to our happiness."

Susanna's disappointment eased as he raised his glass.
He was right, after all. From now on, she imagined she would be spending a
great deal of time at Raven's Point.

***

"If she wasn't the strangest bird I've ever
seen," Corliss commented as the carriage jostled along the bumpy dirt road
toward Briarwood.

"Who?" Susanna asked.

"Mr. Spencer's housekeeper, Cleo."

"Now, why would you say such a thing? I didn't
find her strange, only a bit quiet. And she is certainly beautiful."

"She's all of that, Miss Camille, but a whole lot
more, too. I don't think she's happy at Raven's Point. I've never seen such
empty eyes. I got chills just looking at her. After she brought me into the
house, she seemed about to tell me something, then another servant walked by
and she got this odd, fearful look on her face. She didn't say another word
after that. Not another word."

"I can't imagine why she wouldn't be happy
there," Susanna replied, remembering the pity she had seen in the woman's
eyes. She shrugged, not understanding. "Dominick is the most charming and
generous gentleman I've ever met."

"Well, I hate to be saying this to you, seeing as
you're growing so fond of him and all, but nobody I saw in that house, or
outside while I was sitting by myself in the coach looked very happy."
Corliss shook her head, her pretty face unusually solemn. "There were
people working everywhere, but no one was laughing or talking like we do at
Briarwood to lighten the day. I saw some poor folk heading to the tobo fields
who were dressed in the dirtiest, shabbiest clothes I've ever seen. They looked
half-starved too." She sighed heavily. "I just don't know what to
think, Miss Camille. I always heard such fine things about Mr. Spencer."

Susanna didn't know either. She hadn't seen any of
this, and although she didn't believe Corliss was exaggerating, she wondered if
perhaps her maid's impressions had been colored by what they had observed
earlier in the tobacco fields.

She had attempted to discuss with Dominick her concerns
about the use of young children as field laborers and overseers possessing
whips, but he had evaded her questions, saying that they would talk about those
issues at a later date. Now she wondered if she should have persisted, at least
enough to receive some assurance from him that he would be willing to alter
such practices once they were wed. She didn't want her workers at Briarwood worrying
that their lives might change for the worse once she became Mrs. Dominick
Spencer.

"Corliss, I'm sure things weren't as bad as they
might have seemed," she said. "Now please cheer up. I can't have you
returning to Briarwood with such a sad face. Everyone will think you've been to
a funeral instead of shopping in Yorktown. Remember our secret?"

The young woman attempted a smile, but from the
uncertainty in her eyes, something was obviously still troubling her. "You
know what else I saw while I was waiting in the carriage, Miss Camille?"
she said, then rushed on before Susanna could reply. "Convicts."

"What?"

"Convicts, a whole line of them walking to the
fields. They were chained to one another at the ankles, and they weren't
dressed no better than those other folk." Corliss shuddered. "They
were a sorry-looking bunch, all bearded and dirty. I'd heard before that some
planters use such wretches in the fields, working them until they drop, but I
never saw any before today."

So now she had something else to discuss with Dominick,
Susanna thought with exasperation, holding tightly onto the strap as the
carriage swayed and pitched across a particularly bad patch of road. She didn't
like that such desperate and hopeless men were being used as slaves, if only for
the danger they presented to everyone else, and she would tell Dominick that
she wouldn't allow them at Briarwood. Oh, why was this day turning into more of
a frustration than the blessed end to her problems that she had envisioned?

"We're almost home, Miss Camille," Elias
boomed in his deep baritone above the horses' pounding hooves.

"Just in time," she breathed to herself,
noting with some apprehension that the sun had already set low behind the
trees.

The journey had taken longer than she had anticipated.
It must be past six o'clock. She wondered if Adam was back from the fields and
hoped he wasn't. She wanted to tear up her note. It had been haunting her all
day, along with the knowledge that tomorrow he would receive the shock of his
life.

"How long will I have to keep quiet about what we
did today?" Corliss asked, leading Susanna to believe that their secret
was already chafing her chatterbox of a waiting-maid.

"Not long," she replied, her breath jamming
in her throat when she spied Adam standing at the foot of the walkway, his arms
crossed over his broad chest. As the carriage lurched around the drive, her
heart began to pound. From the dark frown on his handsome face, she could tell
he wasn't pleased.

"Oh bloody hell," she muttered before she
could catch herself.

"Miss Camille!" Corliss exclaimed.

Ignoring her maid and forcing a bright smile, Susanna
prepared herself for Adam's displeasure.

Chapter 15

Impatiently watching the carriage come to a halt in
front of him, Adam tried to tell himself that he wasn't still angry, ever since
an hour ago when he'd returned to the house and discovered that Camille had
left early that morning. But dammit, he was angry! She could have at least
informed him yesterday evening of her plans. He had become wracked by worry,
too, especially when the sun had begun to set. He had been on his way to the
stable to get his horse when the coach had come into view.

"Why, hello, Mr. Thornton," came a soft,
familiar voice from the shadowy coach interior.