Part 5 (1/2)

It was while Will slowly strode by a window, reflecting her eighteenth-century image, that Erva realized why she'd gone crazy. She looked the part of a lady, like her mother had always wanted her to be. But it had been a beige h.e.l.l to live in-no colors, no fun, nothing real. Yet, when she looked at her reflection, saw her brown eyes s.h.i.+ne out defiantly, and the man holding her looking all the prouder for it, her heart stuttered and fizzled sparkly energy throughout her limbs. She'd always wanted him, wanted a man who would want her just for being herself. She didn't have to earn his admiration. She didn't have to work hard to get his attention. She just was. And if felt freaking fantastic.

Something in her finally felt in place, as if a cog decisively fit, and she was operating the way she had been designed. She turned to Will, forcing him to release her, but he only adjusted his grip on her hands, still trying to hold her up. Oh G.o.d, he was good for her ego.

She didn't know how to convey what she wanted. The emotions filling her felt too big for words. The only thing she could say was a breathy, ”Thank you.”

He smiled down at her and shrugged. ”It is nothing. I don't mind.”

He probably a.s.sumed she was appreciative of the way he walked slowly with her, but it was so much more. She felt at that second...alive. Real. She wondered if she glowed from the realization.

Will had guided her into a library where four redcoated men bickered about the weather. She was distracted by a leather bound volume that looked as if it had something to do with inheritance law. G.o.d, it would be heaven to read that. Throw it against a wall when she got to the laws regarding women, but still, it was a wealth of information. All the books were.

As was the man before her.

She shook her head, wanting to express more, but couldn't think of the words needed. ”Thank you,” she repeated.

He silently chuckled. ”Of course.”

He wouldn't understand anyway that he'd broken free something that had been stuck within her for twenty years. So she did the only thing she could think to express her appreciation. Reaching up on her toes, she pecked his cheek.

She really, really didn't mean to linger. But she did. He smelled so d.a.m.ned good. Yes, men smelled pleasant, but there was something about Will's scent that drove her nuts. Maybe it was the clean smell mixed with the outdoors. It didn't matter, because whatever it was, was getting the better of her, getting to her inhibitions. She wanted to kiss him. On the lips.

”I tell you, there are tornadoes that reach up to Nova Scotia on this continent,” a man yelled.

Odd argument to have, but it snapped Erva back to her slippered feet. She glanced up at Will. His eyes...o...b..ted into a stratosphere of blue she'd only seen in NASA pictures. His face was tight, but he slowly smiled.

”If that is the reward for walking slowly, then shall we take a turn even leisurelier?”

She giggled.

His smile widened. ”How is your knee?”

”Better.”

He frowned. ”I'd hoped it would worsen, so we might leave soon.”

She almost giggled again, but the voice that had been shouting about tornadoes, suddenly yelled, ”Oh, there, General Hill! I didn't even notice you there, in the corner with your...friend.”

Will's nostrils flared, but he plastered a fake smile into place and turned to the young man calling for him. He bowed low as the man advanced.

”Major Brighton, how nice to see you,” Will said as he straightened.

The young man reciprocated a bow, then reached for Will's hand in an enthusiastic shake. Oh, Erva knew who this was. Well, in two more years, he'd turn into the Duke of Suffolk. For now he was a nineteen year-old that Erva had guessed his superiors put up with because of his high social rank. The gossip about this man was not just rumors. She'd read how he'd seen several doctors regarding catching syphilis while in America. His stint here would be short because of the venereal disease.

Something about knowing that, knowing he was not just a rake, but would later become infamous for his s.e.xually transmitted disease, made Erva take a step back, landing against Will's chest.

”And who is your friend, General?”

”This is my guest, Lady Ferguson,” Will said stiffly.

The young man bowed, which reminded Erva to curtsy, but it hurt, and she wobbled even more into Will who caught her by her arm.

”Lady Ferguson,” Major Brighton said, ”are you all right? Has she had a bit of punch to drink?”

”No,” Will growled.

”I'm fine.” Erva tried to right herself, but Will wouldn't let go. ”I-” she laughed, ”-I hurt my knee earlier. But I'm fine.”

The Major raised his blond brows a few times. ”How did you hurt your knee? Is this a wicked story?”

”My carriage's axel broke while at a good cantor, and she fell on the floor. Nothing wicked about that.” Will's voice lowered even more, and his aggravation was palpable. He pulled on her arm, forcing her closer, even when there was no more room for that. Major Brighton didn't seem to notice though.

He chuckled. ”Of course.”

Erva, wanting to calm Will, because she could tell he was about to snap, tried to reach behind to touch him, sooth him. Instead, she brushed against his thigh. The very top of his thigh.

Will sipped in a sharp breath.

Oh h.e.l.l, that had been really close to what lay between his thighs. Erva felt her cheeks turn pink-hot. She swallowed, trying to pretend she hadn't done anything, trying even harder to pretend her body hadn't suddenly ignited. Her nipples contracted. Hard. The apex of her legs felt like instant liquid. She held her breath.

Again, Major Brighton didn't take heed of any of it. ”Lady Ferguson, has the General convinced you to part with your money or your men?”

Erva tried very hard to pay attention. ”Pardon?” she asked, taking a line from Will.

”Oh, you know,” the Major said, ”to help with the war. For G.o.d, king, and country, yes?”

Erva was still confused, but so glad for it. The distraction helped to get her wits about her again.

”He's referring to the fact,” Will said, his voice lower than ever and seemed to bounce down her spine, ”that we officers attend many of these banquets, because we must ask for more recruits or more money from the loyalists.”

Well, that had been as effective as if Will had doused her with cold water. He considered her a loyalist. Erva glanced around the library where more people spilled through the open doorways, talking, laughing, and drinking. They all probably thought she was a loyalist, and most of the people here doubtless were.

Of course being an American, the history of the revolution had been handed down to her in a neat package, tidy with patriotic forefathers and grand ideas. As an academic the revolution, she had come to learn, was nowhere near as sanitary as what she had been told. There were complications on top of complications. Often, it would make her prouder of the fact that she was an American. But sometimes she would anguish, especially at the use of the patriots calling the revolution a movement against feeling like slaves, when so many owned them. It was a hypocrisy that burned at her heart. Still, after reading Thomas Paine's essays, she was honored to call herself an American.

So what could she be now? In 1776? Short months after the Declaration of Independence was signed?

Quiet. That's what she could be.

They didn't need to know she had no loyalties to a king who would lose his mind in a few years' time. She batted her lashes, as her mother had taught her to, and forced a smile into place. Maybe something good would come out of all the years of her mother's pus.h.i.+ng Erva to smile when she didn't want to. Right now, she was charming the socks off Major Brighton, and she hadn't even said a word.

”Major Brighton, as always it's been a remarkable time with you,” Will said. ”But you'll have to excuse us, since I promised The General an introduction to Lady Ferguson.”

Will wrapped his arm around Erva's waist. In one move, she no longer felt the ground under her feet. He was carrying her in his one arm.

”Oh!” the Major bellowed. ”Yes, I understand completely why General Howe wants to meet her. She's quite the beauty.”

Will made a quiet growling noise as he rushed Erva from the library to a wide, luxuriously decorated parlor with burgundy molded walls and white marble floors, where more people sat or stood, and everyone had a gla.s.s of something to drink. Except for Will and herself, Erva observed. Had the accounts been wholly wrong about him being a lush?