Defiant Impostor (41 page)

"Very
well," Dominick said with obvious reluctance, finally releasing her.
"I'm so glad we had this time to talk . . . to share our deepest feelings.
Again, my dearest, don't forget what I said."

"I
won't," she murmured, his frightening words burning into her brain.

"Perhaps,
then, you will want to enlighten me, my love. I seem to have missed much of
your conversation while looking for you."

"Adam!"
Her heart pitching in her breast, Susanna whirled to find him standing only a
few feet from them. It was so dark she couldn't read his face, but she could
easily interpret his wide-legged stance, the set of his broad shoulders, and
his furious tone.

"A good
evening to you, Mrs. Thornton," Dominick said smoothly, a hint of
satisfaction in his voice. "I enjoyed our walk immensely." He didn't
deign to say a word to Adam but walked right past him toward the house.

"Adam . .
. I can explain," she began, but he cut her off with a curt wave of his
hand.

"I already
know. You were too warm so you came outside to get some air and who should you
find but Dominick, right?"

"Yes!
That's exactly what happened. I didn't want to walk with him in the garden, but
he took my arm and wouldn't let me go—"

"Save your
lies, Camille," he interrupted harshly, grabbing her forearm more cruelly
than Dominick had held her. "I don't want to hear any more. Remember? I
know what a mistress of deception you are. I should have known that the moment
you heard Dominick was at Westover you would conjure up some way to speak with
him alone. And how expertly you accomplished it. You fooled even me. Now come
on."

"Wh-where
are we going?" she asked in confusion, running to keep up with him as he
strode with her around the house toward the driveway.

"Home to
Briarwood. I'm sure Elias is waiting for us with the carriage by now, our bags
loaded."

"But why,
Adam? What about the ball . . . and the festivities tomorrow, the picnic brunch
and then the horse races? The Byrds prepared a lovely guest room for us—"

"I'm sure
by now it's been offered to someone else. I gave Mr. Byrd and his wife our
excuses after I discovered Dominick was also missing from the game room. I told
them you weren't feeling well and that I thought it best we leave at once. I
had already concluded that you were with that bastard, plotting against me. I
had only to find you."

Thoroughly
shaken by his irrational accusation, Susanna nonetheless attempted to reason
with him as he hurried her toward their waiting carriage.

"Adam,
you're not making any sense. I would never plot with Dominick against
you!" She lowered her voice as they passed some guests strolling along the
lantern-lit walkway in front of the house. "Please listen to me. He forced
me into the garden. He told me how disappointed he was that I had married you,
how I should have been his bride, not yours, and that he loved me."

"How
touching."

"No, you
don't understand. He told me that if anything ever happened, he would still
want me to become his wife. Adam, look at me! He meant that if anything should
happen to you . . . you were right about him! I think he's planning to kill
you—"

"And no
doubt he assured you that it wouldn't be long before you were freed from your
forced marriage, didn't he, Camille?" Adam lifted her into the coach with
such anger that she fell hard against the seat. Joining her, he slammed the
door with jarring finality as the carriage jolted into motion. "Is that
what your precious Dominick meant when he told you so reassuringly not to
forget what he had said . . . and you answered that you wouldn't?"

Susanna shook
her head numbly, seeing that it was futile to argue with him. His fury had
driven him beyond reason. She should have known that if he saw her with
Dominick, he would think the worst.

"Did you
tell him that I was seeking revenge against him?" he demanded, not
bothering to keep his voice down as the golden light spilling from Westover's
many windows and the merry strains of a country dance faded into the distance.

"No."

"You've
never believed a thing I've told you about Dominick, have you? Not a single
blessed word. No doubt you think I earned the scars on my body from my own
insolence and disrespect for my gracious, aristocratic employer!"

Susanna
couldn't answer for the sudden tears choking her. How could she ever have
believed Adam might grow to love her? His behavior now proved that he hated
her. Why else would he say and think such terrible things about her?

"God help
me, woman, you will see on Monday that I have told you the truth! You're going
to accompany me to Raven's Point with my attorney and witness the downfall
Dominick Spencer has brought upon himself through his wretched excess and
incalculable cruelty. Then perhaps you will finally understand that plotting
alongside that monster and harboring any hope that he might yet become your
husband would have brought you nothing but ruin!"

As tears
tumbled down Susanna's flushed cheeks, Adam drew her roughly against him, his
hard lips covering hers in a crushing kiss. Desire flared hot within her as
acute as the bitter pain in her heart, and when he lifted her skirts and
dragged her onto his lap so that she now faced him, her stocking-clad legs
spread wide and straddling him, she knew that he meant to take her right there
in the carriage.

His tongue
ravaging her mouth, his panting breaths as ragged as her own, she heard the
impatient tearing of fabric as her lower body was made bare to him. She felt
him working at the flap of his breeches, the back of his hand brushing her
inner thighs. Then he guided his massive arousal to that slick, hot place that
despite his callous haste was crying out for him, and lifted her to receive
him, impaling her body.

"Dammit,
woman, you are my wife. No one else shall have you!" he swore against her
lips, thrusting inside her even as she desperately bore down to meet him.

Their thunderous, shared release was instantaneous and
overwhelming, their cries of ecstasy and anguish drowned out by the sharp
clattering of hooves and the deafening rumble of wheels upon the road leading
back to Briarwood.

Chapter 23

"Look at it, the place hasn't changed at all . . .
not even after five long years," Adam said, speaking not so much to a
pale, silent Susanna or to William Booth, his equally silent attorney, as he
was to himself.

His body tense and his pulse racing, he stared out the
window as the lumbering carriage approached the huge, columned house which
stood at the center of Raven's Point, each sight and sound sickeningly
familiar.

He took in everything. The small slave children hoeing
weeds in the tobacco fields alongside adults, their infrequent cries of hunger
silenced by sharp cuffs from fearful parents or neighbors. The overseers on
their snorting horses, cracking their whips.

The slaves' tattered clothes and half-starved forms,
and as he could imagine so well even though the poor wretches were too far away
to be seen clearly, their gaunt faces and hauntingly empty eyes. An eerie
familiar silence hung like a funeral pall over the main grounds as the coach
eased to a stop in front of the mansion. All around them slaves with bowed
heads and wearily sagging shoulders were going about their daily tasks, each
one as afraid as the other to make a sound for fear of drawing attention to
himself.

Only one thing was different, Adam noted, drawing a
deep, steadying breath as he mentally prepared himself for the long-awaited
moment of his revenge—that hollow rattle of chains as a line of shuffling
convicts made its way to the fields. Yet their anxious silence was the same as
that of the black slaves whose endless toil they shared.

"Are you ready, Mr. Booth?" he asked grimly,
turning his attention to the bespectacled attorney whom James Cary had long
trusted with important matters of business and upon whom Adam now relied.

"Quite, Mr. Thornton. Eager to see this matter set
upon its course."

"As am I," Adam replied under his breath, his
gaze moving to Susanna who sat directly across from him, her eyes downcast.
Noting her pallor against the azure blue of her silk brocade gown, he felt
resentment flare inside him.

He imagined her wan cheeks were due to her fear of what
was about to happen to Dominick, which probably also explained why she had
hardly spoken to him since they had left Westover so abruptly late Saturday
night. No doubt her hatred of him had multiplied tenfold, far outweighing her
pity, because she had made no more efforts to win his favor.

They had scarcely seen each other until this morning,
Susanna confining her activities to the house and he spending most of his time
in the fields surveying the crops and then sleeping alone in his office,
although he had longed for at least the sensual comfort of her body. Even that
he had denied himself, deciding resolutely that he would not hold her in his
arms again until he sensed she fully realized that everything he had told her
about Dominick Spencer was true.

"I can imagine you might prefer to remain in the
carriage, Camille, but I'd like you at my side," Adam told her as a young
footman hurried down the steps to meet them. "We won't be going into the
house. I see no need for any pretense of civility with Mr. Spencer."

When Susanna just nodded, he wondered what the attorney
must think of the strained silence between them, then he shrugged it off. He
had explained to the man while at Briarwood that she wanted to come along
today, believing that what he was doing was right, but that she might appear
upset by the unpleasantness of the proceedings. That should suffice. And
besides, he had other things to concern himself with right now.

Adam turned to the footman who had swung open the door.
"Is your master at home?"

"Yes, but he's still abed."

"No matter. Tell him that Mr. and Mrs. Adam
Thornton are waiting for him outside, along with my attorney, Mr. Booth."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Thornton."

As the boy disappeared into the house, Adam helped
Susanna down, and Mr. Booth followed. Imagining that Dominick would choose to
keep them waiting a good while just to spite him, Adam was surprised when the
planter walked outside the front door a short ten minutes later, eyeing them
suspiciously where they stood at the base of the broad stone steps.

If Dominick had been abed when informed of their
unexpected arrival, his well-groomed appearance gave no evidence of it. His
attire was impeccable, every curl in his full powdered wig in place. Adam
surmised that the planter had made all haste for his wife's benefit, and with
that thought came fresh resentment.

"What a surprise," Dominick said, making no
move to come down to greet them. His chilling blue eyes flickered over them one
by one, settling appreciatively upon Susanna. "You look particularly
lovely this morning, Mrs. Thornton. It is a pleasure to see you again so soon,
although I cannot say the same for your husband."

Adam squeezed her arm as a reminder for her to say
nothing. He hated the way Dominick's icy gaze was raking slowly, almost
possessively, over her. Infuriated, it was all he could do to keep his voice
steady.

"This is not a social call, Spencer. Perhaps you
have met my attorney, Mr. William Booth?"

Affording the slightest nod to the lawyer, Dominick
replied, "I held no illusion that your visit was of a friendly nature, Mr.
Thornton. State your business and then get off my land."

"Not your land for much longer," Adam stated
bluntly, his blood drumming hot through his veins. At last the goal that had
consumed and driven him for so long was come to fruition! "Within the last
twelve days I have bought up the entirety of your debt from your many
creditors. You now owe me a very substantial sum of money—"

"You've
what?
"
Dominick cut him off incredulously, his posture stiffening and his face gone a
sickly shade of white. Clenching his fists, he advanced a step toward them.
"What insane game are you playing?"

"No game. Mr. Booth?"

The attorney stepped forward, producing several
documents from his leather valise.

"Mr. Thornton is hereby suing you for full and
complete payment of that amount, Mr. Spencer. The information is all here, if
you would care to look at it." When Dominick made no motion to take the
papers held out to him, the attorney simply continued. "If Mr. Thornton
does not receive the amount owed to him by noon tomorrow, you will be summoned
before the county magistrate and your situation made public knowledge. I have
every expectation that the court will find judgment in Mr. Thornton's favor and
sentence you to debtors' prison, your possessions forfeited to him as
payment."

His face now flushed in outrage, Dominick blurted,
"You can't do this to me—"

"I can and I have," Adam interrupted bitterly,
"and don't think that selling Raven's Point will save you. Even if you
auctioned everything—slaves, land, horses, even that emerald necklace—it
wouldn't be enough to repay what you owe me. You might have been able to stave
off your separate creditors with such a ploy, and perhaps keep yourself afloat
until you found some gullible heiress to wed" —he glanced angrily at
Susanna— "but nothing will save you now, Spencer. Nothing. Your single
debt to me is too large."

"You forget I have friends," Dominick said,
descending another few steps. "Very powerful friends who serve with me on
the governor's council and in the House of Burgesses. They'll grant me
loans."