Rebellious Heart (14 page)

Why were the British charging them so much anyway?

Susanna sat back in her chair, and the fiery passion in Ben’s eyes flashed through her mind. He’d seemed so certain of what he was doing and so convinced the British rule was oppressive.

Maybe there was a grain of truth to what he was saying. And maybe she’d rushed to judge him yesterday.

Whatever the case, she could admit that even if she disagreed with what he and the others were doing, he was a kind and helpful man. And whether she liked it or not, she still needed his assistance with Dotty.

She’d only just managed to read through Act 1 of
Romeo and Juliet
when the door of the study squeaked open and Ben poked his head in.

At the sight of her, he slid into the room and closed the door behind him. The quiet click sent her heartbeat scampering.

He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms. “I thought I’d find you reading.”

“I’d much rather read than hang on Mr. Quincy’s arm all evening.” She uncrossed her legs and smoothed her gown.
She’d gotten into the impolite habit of crossing her legs while she read, and everybody knew sitting with legs crossed was a social taboo for ladies like herself.

Through the dim light coming from the candles in the wall sconces, the glimmer in his eyes told her he’d noticed her mishap.

She wanted to ask him the outcome of his proposal to Hannah, whether he’d had time to confirm marriage plans before Elbridge barged in on them. But she was surprised to find herself too afraid to ask.

“I’m taking my leave,” he said.

“Oh.” The word came out in a breath of disappointment. She was sure she should have been relieved. After all, since yesterday’s discovery, she’d told herself she would have to limit her contact with Benjamin Ross most severely.

“I’m riding circuit with the judges starting tomorrow and need to retire early tonight. But I wanted to give you something before I go.”

It was only then she noticed he was holding a book.

He turned it over, revealing the title:
The Odyssey
by Homer. Then he held it out to her. “For you.”

She pushed out of the chair and stood, letting the blanket fall to the floor. “Alexander Pope’s translation from the Greek?”

“It’s only volume one, but I thought you might like to borrow it.”

“Is it yours?”

“I may not have much, but I do have a plentiful supply of books I’ve collected over the years.”

“What more do you need?”

He grinned. “I agree with Erasmus: ‘When I have a little money, I buy books; and if I have any left, I buy food and clothes.’”

She laughed softly. “And I agree with Cicero: ‘A room without books is like a body without a soul.’”

He shoved away from the door and started across the study toward her. The light in his eyes flashed with the warmth and merriment she was finding altogether too attractive.

As much as she knew she should resist being in close proximity to this man, she couldn’t make herself move, even when he stopped directly before her.

“I see I have finally met someone else who loves books as much as I do.”

“Or perhaps more.” She caught the scent of him—the unique combination of wet soil and soap—the sign he’d attended his farm duties but had taken the time to attempt to present himself as a gentleman.

“Maybe we have more in common than I realized.” His voice was low, and his gaze traveled around her face languidly.

At his boldness, heat flushed her cheeks and she lowered her lashes. Perhaps Grandmother Eve had been right about the way Ben looked at her. His bold stare certainly went beyond ordinary interest, especially for a man who had just proposed marriage to another woman.

She took a step away from him but bumped into the desk chair. “Do tell me. How are you and my dear cousin Hannah faring?”

He stiffened almost as though her words had punched him. “We’re faring well enough, thank you.”

So, were they betrothed or not? The question hung at the tip of her tongue.

He refused to look her in the eyes and instead peered at the book.

She swallowed her curiosity. She certainly wasn’t planning to pester him about his plans and have him think she cared
about his relationship with Hannah. What did or didn’t happen between them wasn’t any of her concern.

He held out the book. “Make sure you read page twenty-five first.”

She took it and slid her fingers over the cover reverently. The pages fell open to the place he’d indicated, revealing a folded sheet of paper.

A letter.

She caressed it, relief swelling through her. And gratefulness.

He gently closed the book, forcing her to remove her fingers from the paper. “It would be better—safer—to read it later in private.”

She nodded. “I don’t know how to thank you. I was worried after our disagreement you might not want to help me.”

“I’m not petty, Susanna. If I said I would help you, then you can count on it.” The swirling blue in his eyes held traces of both warmth and worry. “Just be careful and don’t do anything rash until I have more information and can ride to Boston to investigate the situation more fully.”

“It will soon be rather cold for her to live outside—”

Ben lifted his fingers to her lips and cut off her words with his soft touch. He tossed a glance over his shoulder toward the door.

She held her breath and listened, catching a faint creak in the floorboards in the hallway.

Was someone listening to their conversation?

They stood silently for a long moment, Ben’s finger against her lips.

The pressure seemed to grow, and finally his gaze dropped to her lips. But instead of pulling away, his eyes darkened and his finger slid to her lower lip. He grazed the rounded curve starting on one end and slowly working toward the other.

The touch left her breathless.

And when his finger moved to her top lip and began tracing the sensitive skin there, her body trembled.

What was it about Ben Ross that made her ignore reason? Why did his merest contact ignite her?

Certainly she’d never met another man who could so easily make her forget about everything but him.

He sucked in his breath, and something about the intensity in his eyes told her he was contemplating kissing her again. And this time he wouldn’t be kissing her to put on a show for Lieutenant Wolfe. No. If he kissed her again, it would be because he wanted to.

The door of the study swung open and banged against the wall, making it shudder.

“Ben?” Mr. Cranch barged into the room.

Susanna scrambled to put distance between herself and Ben, but only managed to fall backward into the desk chair. Ben turned to face his friend.

“Come quick,” Mr. Cranch said. He was out of breath, his face devoid of the usual merriment. “We just got news from one of the neighbors.”

“What news?” Ben’s voice hardened.

“There’s been another murder.”

“It’s another young woman,” Ben’s father called from a patch of salt hay on the wide expanse of beach.

Ben slid off his horse. The half-moon faded in and out behind a gauze of clouds, providing intermittent light. Alas, he wished there was nothing but darkness to obscure what he must look upon.

The wind taunted the lantern Cranch had carried during the ride down from Mount Wollaston, making it throw strange flickers of light over the beach. One of the other farmers standing near his father also held a lantern that cast long eerie shadows over the sand that was covered with tangles of seaweed deposited by the recent storm.

“She’s not from our community,” his father said. “A stranger, just like the last girl.”

Ben started toward his father, but at the movement by his side, he stopped.

Susanna had dismounted.

He spun upon her with all the frustration rampaging through his chest. “You may have convinced me to allow
you to come along,” he said between clenched teeth, “but you need to stay with Cranch and Elbridge. You’re not stepping one foot closer to the body.”

“Please. I have to know her identity.” Her voice quavered, and she looked at him again with the same beguiling plea that had made him toss reason aside and allow her to accompany him.

“If you come any closer, I’ll have Cranch sling you across his saddle and take you right back to your grandmother’s house.”

She leaned toward his ear and whispered, “I’m afraid it’s Dotty.” She was obviously thinking the same thing he was, that perhaps the man who had chased Dotty the first time had captured her again, and that instead of taking her back to Mr. Lovelace, he’d killed her instead.

“I’ll let you glimpse her face,” he said hesitantly, “but only after I have the chance to evaluate the situation first.”

Elbridge had joined them, and he slipped his arm around Susanna’s waist. “I won’t allow it. Susanna will stay right here by my side.”

For once, Ben was relieved at Elbridge’s possessiveness, and he couldn’t muster the frustration from earlier in the evening whenever he’d seen Elbridge hanging on Susanna.

Susanna tried to shrug out of her cousin’s embrace, yet he pulled her closer into the crook of his arm.

“Stay with Elbridge.” Ben hoped to convey a calmness he didn’t have. But her eyes contained turmoil that was crashing and foaming like the nearby waves on the shore. There would be no calming her.

Her insistence upon coming with him certainly wasn’t helping to keep their activities regarding Dotty as clandestine as he’d hoped. Surely Elbridge would suspect something now.

Ben tramped toward his father and the other farmers who’d gathered at the shore. The cold, salty sea breeze blew against his face and sent chills down his spine.

His father shook his head, his weathered face wrinkled with sadness. “Looks like she died the same way as the last girl.”

“I told you we should have hung Hermit Crab Joe,” mumbled one of the farmers.

“Can’t blame Joe this time,” Ben said, not caring that his tone was sharp. “I swung by the parsonage on the way here, and Joe was with Parson Wibird. He’s been there all day and all evening.”

Ben had known the men would point the finger at Joe first, and this time he was determined not to let the old fisherman take the blame.

“Maybe he murdered her last night,” suggested one of the others.

“This is a recent murder,” his father said. “If she’d been here all day, someone would have seen her earlier. And besides, if she’d lain here overnight, her blood would have dried by now.”

Ben parted the tall grass, not wanting to look at the carnage, but knowing he had no choice.

A half-clad woman lay in an awkward sprawl. Her wet skirt twisted around her thighs, and her bodice was ripped, revealing too much of her flesh. He had no doubt she’d been violated, just like the last murder victim.

Disgust churned through his stomach.

Rain-drenched hair lay plastered to a bruised neck and a pretty face as fragile and pale as cracked porcelain. The woman’s eyes were open and stared unseeingly at the sky overhead.

“Where’s the blood?” he asked, trying to make himself remain objective and distant even though everything within him wanted to lash out at whoever was responsible.

“Her feet.” His father stepped on the wilted sea grass, pushed it aside, and revealed bloodied, lacerated feet. “She’s missing her shoes.”

Dotty
. So the murderer had taken her shoes again, shoes Susanna had given the young runaway.

Ben gulped a breath of the frigid night air and peered straight ahead to the waves slapping the beach. Dark clouds billowed past the faint moon, shrouding the nightmarish scene. If only he could make it truly disappear.

The inquisitive gazes of his father and the other men smoldered through him to his heart. Ever since he’d returned to Braintree after his time at Harvard and his lawyer training, they’d started looking to him for answers and advice.

“Ben?” His father’s voice contained only the utmost respect. “We’ll do whatever you think is best.”

Ben met his father’s blue eyes, so much like his own—only wiser and kinder. He knew his father was proud of him for all he’d already accomplished. To his father and the other farmers of Braintree, Ben was already famous, had already made a name for himself. They certainly didn’t expect any more of him.

It was men like Elbridge who considered him ignorant.

He wanted to be angry at Elbridge for barging in on him just when he’d finally mustered the courage to pull Hannah aside and propose to her. And yet he’d been strangely relieved at the interruption and had decided to put off the proposal for another night.

“I concur. She’s obviously been murdered the same way as the last girl,” Ben finally said. “Chased, violated, and then strangled to death.”

“Chased?” Susanna struggled to pull away from Elbridge.

Ben gave a curt nod. He was afraid Susanna’s efforts to help Dotty had been for naught.

“If she’s been murdered the same way as the last girl,” the farmer said, holding his lantern higher, “then we know Hermit Crab Joe did it.”

“How many times do I need to tell everyone? Joe didn’t kill the last victim.” Ben tried to keep from shouting, but he was much louder than he’d anticipated. “And now, fortunately, Joe’s got an alibi who will verify he wasn’t anywhere near this beach or near this girl.”

“If Joe didn’t kill the girls”—his father spoke in the same level tone he always used—“then who could it be?”

Whoever it was obviously had some twisted pleasure in taking his victim’s shoes and chasing them barefooted.

“I don’t yet know who’s responsible for both of the murders,” Ben said. “But I do have a lead. With a little investigating I’ll likely be able to narrow my search.”

Surely he could discover the man Mr. Lovelace had hired. And if Mr. Lovelace wouldn’t disclose the name, he could check around with other merchants to find the information he needed.

But even as Ben plotted his course of action for his next visit to Boston, nagging doubt plagued him. He couldn’t shake the question that if the murderer really was the same man Mr. Lovelace had hired to track Dotty, why kill her and his other victim instead of returning them for the monetary reward?

“May I see the woman?” Susanna pleaded, straining to release herself from Elbridge’s hold.

Ben’s father glanced at Susanna and then back at Ben, his brow rising with unasked questions.

“Father, this is Susanna Smith,” Ben said, fumbling for the
words to explain Susanna’s presence without giving away too much information about her part in sheltering Dotty. “She and her mother, Mrs. Smith, help many of the poor widows and young women of their community. And Susanna is worried the victim might be someone she knows.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Even so, Ben couldn’t meet his father’s gaze.

Somehow Susanna managed to extricate herself from Elbridge’s grip. And before Ben could stop her, she darted toward the body.

“Wait!” He lunged for her.

“Susanna,” Elbridge called, “I command you to stop this instant.”

But she’d already reached the young woman and skidded to an ungracious halt, taking in the ugly scene in one swooping glance. Her eyes widened and she brought trembling fingers to her mouth, stifling a cry.

Ben wanted to grab her and turn her away, but Elbridge quickly put a hand on her shoulder, claiming her.

Instead of finding comfort in Elbridge’s open and waiting arms, she pushed away from him, stumbled toward Ben, and fell against his chest. She buried her face into his shoulder, and her body shook violently against his.

He knew he ought to direct her to Elbridge. But he couldn’t keep from wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close. He pressed his nose into the hood of her cloak and drew in the scent of roseleaf.

Elbridge’s brows arched up into his cocked hat and then came quickly down into a sharp V.

His father glanced between him and Elbridge and then settled upon Susanna.

Ben couldn’t bear to imagine what his father was thinking.
Although he hadn’t said anything to his father about Hannah Quincy, surely he’d heard the rumors about his courtship of the wealthy young woman. And now here he was holding Susanna Smith.

She clutched the front of his overcoat, her breathing labored.

He brushed aside the wisps of her hair that had blown free. “I’m sorry, Susanna.”

He didn’t have to look at Elbridge to know he was only making more of an enemy of the man than he already had.

“I’m so sorry for that young woman too,” Susanna whispered near his ear. Her warm breath tingled his skin. “But I’m relieved she’s not Dotty.”

“She’s not?” Ben pulled back from her.

Susanna shook her head. “I’ve never seen that woman before.”

“Then who is it?” And more important, who was the monster ravishing these pretty young women?

“I wish I knew. Hence I must return home,” she said softly so that no one else could hear their conversation. “I need to make sure Dotty’s safe and unharmed.”

“I don’t think it’s wise for you to be involved with her any longer.” If the murderer of the two women was indeed the same man who’d been chasing Dotty, then he was a twisted, evil man—and Susanna could be placing her own life in jeopardy by helping the young runaway.

“What would you have me do?” she asked. “I can’t allow her to fend for herself, can I? Not when she is clearly in so much danger.”

He admired Susanna for her willingness to help those less fortunate than herself. Nevertheless, the situation had become too precarious. A murderer was roaming the countryside, and
Ben had the premonition it wasn’t a matter of
if
he would strike again but
when
.

“My dear cousin,” Elbridge said, stepping behind Susanna, “I really must insist on taking you back to Grandmother Eve’s.”

Elbridge glared down his nose at Ben. In the overcast night, the shadows lining Elbridge’s face made his disapproval and dislike of Ben more prominent.

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you to be here.” Elbridge touched Susanna’s elbow. “This is no place for a lady.”

From beneath the hood of her cape, Susanna’s eyes flashed with uncertainty.

For all her spirit, she still accepted the authority and approval of her mother—even when the woman was absent.

“Come,” Elbridge said gently. “If we go now, I’ll be sure to stay silent about your unseemly display with a man who’s practically engaged.”

“Practically?” She allowed Elbridge to tug her away.

Ben had to force himself not to pull her back into his arms. The damp ocean breeze moved in to replace her warmth with its biting chill. “I’m not engaged yet. Just ask Elbridge.”

Elbridge smirked. “If you’re planning to propose to one woman, don’t you think it’s rather immodest to frolic in public with another? What if word of your display reached my dear sister, Hannah?”

“I’m sure you’ll make it your duty to personally deliver the rumor.”

Susanna glanced to his father and the others who were watching the exchange like playgoers at the theater. In fact, if the situation hadn’t been so serious, Ben might have classified the look on his father’s face as humorous.

Elbridge drew her farther away from Ben. “My dear cousin,
I must ask that you refrain from any future embraces with Mr. Ross.”

The muscles in Ben’s jaw flexed. “She’s done nothing for which to be ashamed. You’re merely upset that she took comfort with me instead of you.”

Elbridge puffed out his chest like a scavenging sea gull. “There can be nothing comforting about you, Ross.”

“Oh, stop it, Elbridge.” Susanna wrenched out of his grasp. “I may not see eye to eye with Mr. Ross on some issues, but there’s nothing wrong with our being friends, is there?”

As she asked the question, her inky eyes held his, and he knew she’d meant the question for him and him alone.

Friends? With Susanna Smith?

She’d asked him that once before, and he hadn’t believed it was possible.

Cranch’s lantern illuminated her fine complexion, her slender cheeks, and a tantalizing stretch of her neck that dipped down to her triple strand of pearls.

He was surprised to realize the sight of the pearls hadn’t bothered him all evening. Even now, the jewels didn’t elicit any reaction in him the way they had initially—when they’d seemed pretentious.

Was it possible he could set aside his reservations about her?

Apparently she was willing to offer him the hand of friendship in spite of his political leanings, something he hadn’t deemed possible.

Elbridge shook his head at Susanna and his frown deepened.

“Of course we can be friends,” Ben said quickly, unwilling to let Elbridge interfere again.

A glimmer sprang into Susanna’s eyes, and her mouth curved up just slightly on one side—the start of a smile.

In spite of the grimness of the circumstances, Ben couldn’t keep from wishing her smile would blossom all the way so he could see her dimple.

Elbridge tugged Susanna toward their horses.