Savage Deception (Liberty's Ladies) (22 page)

“What a lovely place!” Diana gushed. “Who does it belong to?”

“Us,” was his terse reply, and he took her hand to lead her across the verdant lawn to the front porch, whose banisters cast long thin shadows on the grass.

Diana had no time to be surprised, but then nothing Tanner did should surprise her any longer. However, she did get a delightful shock when Anne suddenly burst through the front door, followed by the children. The four of them bounded down the front steps, the children giggling, the two women crying and embracing.

“I never thought to see you again!” Anne squealed and sent a chastising glance in Tanner’s direction.

“Oh, Anne, I’ve been so lonely, so worried about all of you. Tanner told me that all of you were well. How is David? How are you? I had no idea you were here.”

Diana knew she was gushing, but she couldn’t contain herself. It wasn’t until after she was inside the cozy, well-furnished house sipping tea in the parlor and eating freshly baked cookies served by Ruthie that she missed Tanner. She swore he had followed them inside, but she’d been so engrossed in catching up on what had happened to her family that she hadn’t realized he had not come inside at all.

“Where’s Tanner?” she asked.

“I haven’t seen him since his arrival.” Anne sounded curt and cold. Her voice became a hiss. “How could you have married him, Diana? The man spirited you away from the house. I thought something awful had happened to you until that Curtis person came for us.”

“Anne…” David’s tone warned her to be quiet.

“It’s true, and you know it, David.”

“He saved my life,” David reminded her.

“Hah! Who said so?”

“David’s right,” interjected Diana, growing a bit miffed with Anne’s attitude toward Tanner. “If Tanner hadn’t intervened, David would be dead now. I’d think you’d be more than grateful to my husband. He didn’t have to help David, and he didn’t have to bring the lot of you here. You’re living in grand style now. If you were in Charlestown, you might be starving, if not dead.” Diana took a deep breath. “I need to find my husband.”

David gently patted her shoulder. “I intend to thank him personally for all he’s done.”

A grateful smile lit up Diana’s face and she went out onto the porch. She had upset Anne, she knew that, but it was time Anne learned that she couldn’t expect her to feel about things the same way she had. If Diana had known that seven years ago, she’d never have encouraged Kingsley merely because Anne had approved of him.

A gentle twilight bathed the island in lavender and blue hues. The ocean surf could be heard above the sorrowful cry of the seagulls overhead. Suddenly Diana felt bereft, felt that a part of herself was missing. She ached to find Tanner.

Leaving the porch, she walked along the creek, which she had learned was called Oleander Creek, and crested the top of a large sand dune. The beach stretched below her and she spotted Tanner, sitting some yards away on the sand. He’d removed his jacket, and though Diana found the evening to be quite chilly, Tanner didn’t seem to mind the cool breeze whipping through his dark hair and ruffling the white lace on his shirtfront. He gazed out at the endless stretch of purple, swelling sea, oblivious to everything.

She wore only her cotton gown, having forgotten to reach for a shawl or coat when she left the house. Folding her arms about herself, she stood beside him. “Don’t you want to come inside?” she asked.

Tanner barely glanced at her and threw a shell into the swelling surf. “Maybe later.”

Suddenly she felt ill at ease. How strange that was, she found herself thinking, after all of the nights she’d spent naked and panting in Tanner’s arms. Now something had changed between them. Certainly her secret life had something to do with it, but then again he was Mariah, a trusted and trained British spy, a close friend of General Lord Rawdon. Her escapades in the swamp were nothing in comparison to what Tanner must have accomplished on his missions, the people he must have hurt. Diana didn’t want to think about any of it, but she couldn’t stop her thoughts. Perhaps it wasn’t so much that he had changed but that she now knew the truth about him and saw him in a different light. Maybe now that the mystery about him was unfolding, he sensed a difference in her attitude.

“Anne’s prepared a room for us. She had to move the girls and put them in the attic bedroom, but they don’t mind. You know how children love an adventure, a change.”

“No, not really,” Tanner admitted. “I wasn’t allowed to be a child.”

“Why not?”

“Because I spent all of my life preparing to take my rightful calling as Briarhaven’s overseer. I was even tutored with Kingsley, much to the displeasure of Kingsley’s mother. I wasn’t allowed to cry; my mother told me that. She told me that I had to be strong and accept my place, not to let anyone know how much I hated them. When lessons were over, I was dismissed by Kingsley’s governess, a hateful old hag who hated me as much as I detested her. I can’t count the number of times she cracked me across the knuckles with her wooden ruler. God, it hurt, but I didn’t cry.”

“Tanner, why are you telling me this?” Diana’s voice was a whisper. She could see he was in pain, and though she wanted to hear about his childhood, she didn’t want to know about his suffering. It made him more human to her, more human at a time when she wanted to put a distance between them.

Glancing up at her, his eyes expressed his inner torment. “Maybe because I want to hurt you, or have you feel sorry for me. I don’t know.”

Dropping to her knees, Diana wanted to touch him, but nothing intimate had passed between them in days and she hesitated to do so. Instead she licked her lips and smiled sadly. “I wish I had known you then. There’s so much about you that I don’t know.”

“Be glad of that, Diana,” he said harshly, causing her to flinch. “If you had known me then you’d have treated me the same way you did when you first came to Briarhaven. You thought I was beneath contempt and you were right. What could I have given you if you’d left with me? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Your family would have disowned you. I can imagine Anne’s reaction. She’d probably have suffered some sort of a fit. As it is, she can’t abide me.”

“Anne doesn’t know you, Tanner. You must be patient with her. David is quite grateful to you, however.”

Tanner sighed and pushed a stray curl from Diana’s face. “Are you grateful to me, Diana?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Is that all you are, grateful?”

She knew he wanted her to tell him that she loved him and had forgiven him, but the man she had come to love so desperately in Charlestown didn’t seem to be the same man sitting on the beach. In her mind, she’d built up an image of a noble but scarred man, but since learning the truth about his past, about his dual identity, she thought of him as mercenary rather than noble. Though she cared about him and worried about him, even craved for him to kiss her and make love to her, he was her enemy. He was Mariah.

“Your silence speaks more eloquently than any words,” Tanner mumbled when she didn’t respond. Standing up, he dusted the sand from his pants and handed her his jacket. “Put this on and go back to the house.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Diana slipped into the too-large sleeves.

“Not at the moment.” He placed a light kiss upon her forehead. “Good night, Diana.”

“Tanner…”

He turned and started walking down the deserted, wind-tossed beach with his hands thrust into his pockets. Should she run after him? she asked herself, and knew she should. That would be the appropriate response for a wife, but she didn’t, because the man who had just walked away from her was a stranger.

14

The coolness of winter gave way to spring and then to a warm summer, filled with lazy days sitting on the porch and overseeing the children as they frolicked on the lawn, or hours spent on the beach where Diana and Anne watched David teach the youngsters how to swim.

Diana was constantly amazed at the energy the children possessed. She was even more in awe of her sister who kept up with them. “Is this what I have to look forward to when I have children?” Diana laughingly asked Anne on a hot June afternoon.

Anne toweled Jane’s hair and then waved the little girl away to join David and the others in the water again. “Yes. You’ll be nagged to death to wipe drops of water out of eyes, to dry hair, just so the scamps can get wet again and return for another drying. You shall have no peace and quiet, no time even to bathe yourself, but you’ll find that when the children aren’t bothering you, you can’t concentrate because you know that the moment you start something one of them will call you.” A satisfied smile ringed Anne’s mouth. “I’m quite happy, however.”

“I know that. You don’t have to tell me.” Diana grew quiet and adjusted her position on the sand, rearranging the skirt of her pink and white striped dress. A caressing breeze stirred the wisps of hair she’d pulled back from her face in a matching bow. “I suppose I’ll never have children now.”

Diana colored, realizing she’d said too much about her personal situation with Tanner. They had slept in the same bed for months, and in all that time they hadn’t touched. If by chance their hands accidentally met or their thighs brushed in the darkness, they quickly drew away. Diana was miserable. Tanner was miserable. They barely spoke. Their marriage was over.

Anne stood up and motioned to Diana. “Follow me,” she mysteriously said. Diana found herself walking down the beach with her sister in silence until Anne halted some distance away in a place Diana had seen before. She recognized it as the spot where Tanner spent a great deal of his time … alone.

“I apologize to you,” Anne began, “for the awful things I’ve thought about your husband. We had a talk one day, Tanner and I, and I realized how much he loves you. And he does love you, Diana. That’s why he doesn’t join us for supper too often, why he keeps to himself so much. I know it’s because he doesn’t believe he’s good enough to associate with us, that he isn’t good enough to be your husband. The few times I’ve seen him with the children convinces me he’ll be a fine father one day. Little David thinks he’s so wonderful, and the girls agree that their Uncle Tanner is the most handsome man in the world.” Anne’s eyes misted and she gulped back a sob.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but I’ve misjudged him. No matter what he’s done, and I really don’t want to know what that might be, he saved David’s life and offered us the safety of Oak Island. Now I think you should go to him and tell him you love him. Put the war and the strife behind you both. Diana, on Oak Island there is no war. You can be Tanner’s wife and he can be a husband to you. Isn’t this what you want?”

“Oh, yes, Anne, yes it is,” Diana admitted, her voice quivering with emotion.

“Then go to him,” Anne urged through teary eyes. “I promise that you won’t be disturbed, even if I have to tie those hellions of mine to a tree.”

Diana laughed, unable to picture her gentle sister rounding up the children and tying them to anything. Hugging each other, they parted.

This part of the island was in a secluded cove-like area, surrounded by lush palmettos that blew gently and made a hushing sound. An ancient spring bubbled up from the earth to fall and trickle silently between the rocks into a shimmering, clear pool. It was in this pool that Diana saw Tanner.

His bronzed back was turned to her and suddenly he disappeared beneath the water, only to surface at the other end. Sparkling droplets of water, resembling diamonds, dripped from his powerful torso. With his dark hair slicked back from his face, he looked so young, so carefree. This was a Tanner she had never seen. In fact, she never remembered Tanner being carefree or playing during the entire time she’d known him. Most of the time he was so serious, and during the last months he’d been less than happy. Sometimes she wondered why he stayed at Oak Island, why he didn’t just leave. She knew, however, and felt unaccountably ashamed of herself on account of it.

“He stays because of me,” she murmured, not able to take her eyes off of him when he again dived beneath the water and swam across the pond, his powerful arms slicing through the water with ease.

Anne was right, she knew. On Oak Island there was no war, no reason not to be together. The politics that divided them didn’t exist here. For once, they could simply be husband and wife — Tanner and Diana Sheridan. No ghosts from the past would haunt them; the future didn’t matter. She wanted him so badly that she ached. All of those nights, lying next to him, hearing him breathe, knowing he was but scant inches away… . Well, no more torture for her. Not any longer. She must make the first move.

Resolutely, Diana undressed. The summer wind moved lazily over her, heating her already warm flesh. She wanted him, wanted him, wanted him. Without the slightest bit of shyness, Diana came forward from the royal palmettos that hid her from view and entered the pool like a queen with her head held high. But she felt less than queenly, almost humble, when Tanner heard the gentle splash of water and turned his head to see her. Instead of waiting for him to come to her, she moved toward him like a graceful water nymph. Will he want me? she asked herself. Fear clutched at her. She knew she’d die if Tanner rejected her. But she had to take the chance. She needed him so very much.

She stopped before him, unaware of how beautiful she looked at that moment. The afternoon light spread a golden hue across her face and naked breasts, and her hair, pulled back by the pink ribbon, caught the sun’s fire and dazzled Tanner with its brilliance. Diana didn’t know any of this, but she did know she had to touch him. She placed her palms on the wet hardness of his chest. She’d have spoken first, but Tanner only gazed at her with wonder in his eyes and said, “Diana, are you sure?”

Her hands slipped up the slick wall before her and wrapped around his neck. “Yes.” And this was all the answer he seemed to need, because with that one word she turned herself over to him once again, body and soul.

He took her right there in the water, their need so great that preliminaries were unnecessary. Their bodies burned with wanting; primitive fires licked at the cores of both their beings. Their mutual passion, so long denied, flowed hotly over them like an unchecked volcano. It wound within them and through them, causing such a fierce, sweet plunder of their senses that nothing and no one could have prevented their joining.

He lifted her from her feet and entered the moist warmth of her body in one motion. Instantly she responded. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her body arched to meet his wild, sweet thrusts. “Oh, Tanner,” she cried, ecstasy claiming her in a sudden and fierce climax as Tanner shuddered, pulling her buttocks closer as he filled her.

Afterward, both stared into each other’s eyes for long moments, not fully conscious of anything save one thing — they loved one another.

“I’ve missed, you,” he admitted, endearing himself to Diana further with this honest admission. “I’d begun to think I’d have to enter a monastery.”

Diana laughed and kissed him full on the lips. “What a dreadful waste that would be, besides breaking many ladies’ hearts, I’m certain.”

“Would your heart be broken?”

The playfulness disappeared from her blue eyes and they glazed over with renewed desire. “Mine most of all.”

“Perhaps I should prove to you that I’m not ready for a monk’s life,” he suggested, and that’s exactly what he did.

~ ~ ~

Over the next two months, Diana and Tanner were closer than they’d ever been. Much of their time was spent alone in their own secluded cove, the rest with Anne, David and the children, cavorting on the beach. Nights they spent in their own bed, either flushed with passion or asleep in each other’s arms. The war had ceased to exist for them, utterly and completely. They trusted one another, and finally Tanner explained about his past as Mariah, leaving out none of the highlights. She realized he didn’t tell her all of the details because she suspected some of the things he’d done in the name of the Crown were probably wicked and dark, things better left unsaid.

He even told her about a woman named Annabelle, whom he’d come to care about at one time and thought he loved until he realized what a heartless conniver she was. “But I know now that my life was with you,” he told Diana and kissed her tenderly. “I can’t imagine not being your husband. I wanted to marry you from the moment I first saw you.”

“I loved you, too,” Diana admitted and leaned against his naked chest. Moonlight cast soft streaks of light upon the bed, encasing their forms in silver. “That night on the bluff I knew I loved you. I told Anne so, but she wasn’t very happy about it. In fact, I believe she may have cried. But I hoped and prayed you’d come for me … but you didn’t. Kingsley told me you wouldn’t.”

“And you believed him.”

Diana shook her head. “At first I didn’t. It wasn’t until he told me about you and your wanting to have your way with me that I began to doubt. Just a tiny bit, mind you, but I did doubt you. I’m sorry.”

“What happened then?” Tanner’s voice sounded oddly strained.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“What did you tell Harlan and Kingsley about when I kissed you?”

“I didn’t tell Harlan anything. I did try to tell Kingsley that I was responsible for what happened. I told him I wanted you to kiss me, but he said I was too innocent to know what I was talking about.”

Tanner took a deep breath and hugged her tightly. “And then?”

Diana glanced up at him, seeing that his eyes were hooded. “I waited for you to come for me. I thought you would, and I’d have gladly gone, but you didn’t … and I married Kingsley.” Her voice started to quiver. “You know, Tanner, I hated you for my marriage and decided that Kingsley had been right about your wanting to avenge yourself against him because of me. Now I know he was wrong. Kingsley lied to me and I was silly enough to believe him.”

Tanner shook his head in a gesture of regret. “We were both silly, both of us believed a lie.”

“What lie did you believe?”

“It isn’t important any longer, but I have a great deal to make up to you.”

“No, you don’t,” Diana insisted, not caring for the contrite kiss he placed upon her lips. She didn’t understand all of these questions, or why Tanner felt he’d wronged her. They were truly in love now; the past was gone. Still, she felt the need to unburden herself about her dual identity, now that he’d told her all about Mariah and his retirement from spying. “I should apologize to you for sneaking through the secret tunnel to meet Clay Sinclair and pass on information about Farnsworth. I could have put you in great danger, and Harlan and Hattie, too.”

Tanner had been nibbling at her ear while she spoke, but now he stopped, apparently interested. “There’s a tunnel beneath Briarhaven?” Diana yawned and explained that the entrance was in the wine cellar. “And Clay Sinclair, is he related to the Sinclair family who lived five miles from Briarhaven?”

“Hmm, hmm,” Diana mumbled, growing sleepy and burrowing within the crook of Tanner’s arm.

“Sinclair was your informant.”

“Hmm, hmm.”

Tanner was silent for a few minutes. Diana was nearly asleep when she heard him speak again, his voice sounding far away, “If you needed to get in touch with Clay Sinclair again, how would you do it?”

She very nearly didn’t answer him as sleep began to overtake her, but he asked the question once more. “Put … a … rib … bon … on tree limb…” In seconds she was sound asleep.

But Tanner wasn’t. He lay with Diana in his arms until nearly dawn. He kissed her mouth, and even while she slept he felt her respond. He knew he could easily wake her and arouse her to passion. However, he didn’t. Instead he watched her while she slept and memorized her face.

Getting up, he hurriedly dressed and packed a few belongings before he went to the desk in the parlor and scribbled a note of farewell. He went outside and plucked a rose from the garden beside the house, a rose that was as pink and lovely as Diana’s lips. Returning inside, he placed the rose and the note beside Diana’s beautiful face on the pillow. “It’s better like this, my love,” he whispered to her sleeping form. “Maybe one day you’ll forgive me.”