Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) Read online

  Terrified that he was going to refuse her, Melissa began to cry. "Do you want to see me wed to my father's choice, rather than you?" she sobbed. "Don't you love me at all?"

  "Melissa, stop it," Ian scolded softly. "You mustn't cry. Of course, I love you. That's why I want you to have the beautiful wedding you deserve, not some hasty elopement that will set all of Williamsburg gossiping for years. I'm thinking of your reputation, beloved, and you should, too."

  Fearing her reputation was already beyond salvaging, Melissa pulled free of his grasp. She was too upset to care that she might be risking his contempt rather than winning consent for an elopement, and she lashed out at him, "You don't love me! You couldn't, or becoming my husband would mean more to you than what some gossiping shrews might say about us." She turned away from him then, and too distraught to return to the ball, she ran on through the darkness toward the trees that formed a natural boundary to the palace grounds.

  Ian had not realized Melissa was so high-strung, but he dared not waste a moment considering the sensitivity of her temperament, when she could so easily become lost or badly hurt, if she stumbled and fell. He raced after her and overtook her in a matter of seconds. Taking care not to trip her, he reached out and grabbed her around the waist to bring her to a halt.

  "Let me go!" Melissa wailed.

  "Never," Ian swore, and he easily subdued her defiance with a flurry of impassioned kisses.

  Taking refuge in his affection, Melissa clung to him and kissed him with such stirring ardor that he longed to grant every request she could ever make. He would have made love to her there, but she was a fine lady, and he respected her far too much to strip her of her beautiful gown and take her in the damp grass. He struggled to contain her excitement as well as his own, and when he had succeeded in calming her with gentle caresses and tender words of devotion, he made his plans aloud.

  "If we go to the priest at Bruton Parish, he might send someone to summon your parents, but the chaplain of our regiment is a young man whom I believe I can persuade to perform a wedding ceremony tonight. What shall we do then? Every inn in town has three men in a bed. I can't take you to my barracks. Where shall we go?"

  Melissa searched her mind for only an instant. "Take me home! We can leave a note for my parents in their carriage, telling them we've eloped. Then we can spend the night in one of the guest bedrooms on the third floor. No one will know we're there, and in the morning, we can greet everyone at breakfast as husband and wife."

  That was such an audacious idea, Ian needed a moment to appreciate the beauty of it. Then his face lit up with a smile Melissa could see even in the darkness. He grabbed her in a boisterous hug, lifted her off her feet, and let out a wild whoop.

  "By God, we'll do it!" he cried. He replaced his bride-to-be on her feet, took her hand, and led her back toward the Governor's Palace, intent upon beginning a marriage he prayed would overflow with the exquisite joy they'd share that night.

  * * *

  Alanna was the first to note that Melissa's absence from the ballroom had grown to an unseemly length. Fortunately neither Aunt Rachel nor Uncle John had missed their daughter's presence in the crowd. They had been dancing and talking with friends on the opposite side of the room for at least fifteen minutes, but Alanna was certain Melissa and Ian had been gone much longer. Perhaps they were merely strolling in the gardens and had lost track of the time, or had stopped to talk with friends, but whatever their excuse, Alanna feared their long absence from the party would draw severe criticism.

  Graham Tyler had waited patiently for the opportunity to dance with Alanna again, and he was disappointed that she seemed so preoccupied. When she apologized for forgetting the steps of the dance which she had performed perfectly in her own parlor, he could no longer pretend that she was enjoying herself as much as he. "Would you rather have some punch, or visit the gardens?" he asked.

  "Some punch first, and then the gardens?"

  "Whatever you wish."

  Alanna took his arm, as they slowly made their way toward the refreshment tables where punch was being served from ornate silver bowls. The berry-flavored beverage was overly sweet and rapidly losing its chill, but she sipped it without complaint. Melissa had insisted upon dressing her hair with pomatum and powdering it white, and suddenly catching sight of herself in a mirror, Alanna realized she had become so concerned about Melissa that she had completely forgotten her earlier fears of looking ridiculous. Her apprehensions now returned to increase her discomfort tenfold.

  "Yellow is definitely your color," Graham enthused. "You're as radiant as sunshine, and I like your hair styled that way, too."

  "Thank you, you're very sweet to say so."

  Despite her compliment, Graham thought her distracted glance anything but appreciative. "I don't please you, do I?"

  Mortified that he would ask her such a personal question, Alanna nearly dropped her cup and, to avoid such an embarrassing accident, hurriedly set it aside. She knew that in her place Melissa would open her fan, peer over it with a coquettish glance, then close it with a flourish to give him a tap on the chest, before reassuring him he was one of her favorite people on earth. Alanna was not Melissa, however. She could neither tell him flattering lies, nor the blunt cruelty of the truth.

  "We scarcely know each other, Lieutenant," she said instead. "Could we visit the gardens now, please? I saw Melissa and Ian go outside some time ago, and I'm beginning to become concerned about them."

  Instantly realizing how badly he had embarrassed her, Graham hastened to apologize. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Miss Barclay. I didn't mean to presume, or assume, that I had any right to inquire as to your feelings. Please forgive me."

  "You're forgiven. Now could we please visit the gardens?"

  "Oh yes, of course. I didn't mean that I wouldn't escort you through the gardens, regardless of your feelings for me."

  Exasperated nearly beyond endurance, Alanna shot Graham such a withering glance that he immediately offered his arm rather than endless apologies, and led her outside. The air was several degrees cooler here, and caressed her flushed cheeks like a welcome splash of spring rain. "It was becoming unbearably warm in there, wasn't it?" she asked, as she peered down the main path hoping to catch sight of her missing cousin.

  "Yes, it was." Fearing that he would unintentionally insult her again if he said more, Graham clamped his mouth shut. He envied Ian then, for Melissa's charm was apparently endless, while Alanna was so shy, any effort to draw her out ended in failure. He still liked her enormously though.

  There were more than a dozen couples touring the gardens, but Melissa and Ian weren't among them; Alanna didn't know where else to look. "They can't have just disappeared," she mused fretfully.

  "Perhaps they were returning to the ballroom on another path, while we started down this one. Would you like to wait here while I go back inside to look for them, or would you prefer to come with me?"

  Alanna sat down on the adjacent bench. "I'll wait for you here, thank you."

  Not surprised by her decision, Graham returned to the ballroom alone. He skirted the fringe of the dancers, assessed the groups clustered near the windows, walked by the refreshment tables again, and then began to inquire as to whether or not any of their friends had seen Ian or Melissa in the last half hour. When he received only shrugs and denials rather than any encouraging news, he began to worry, also. He knew Ian was fond of Melissa, but could he have lured her away from the ball so intent upon romance that he'd been unmindful of how quickly her presence would be missed?

  Discouraged that he had nothing to report, he returned to Alanna. "I'm sorry, but I can't find them. Do you think we ought to tell her parents?"

  Alanna gave her head such a violent shake that her side curls tickled her cheeks, and she hurriedly brushed them back into place. "Good heavens, no." Alanna didn't know what else to suggest, however, and drew her skirt in to make room for Graham beside her. He promptly sat down and folded his hands together, rather
than reach for one of hers.

  "Could they have left for another party?" he asked.

  While there had been several entertainments from which to choose on other nights, the Governor's Ball was the only one she knew of taking place that evening. "We weren't invited to any other parties. I don't believe there are any."

  "Maybe they had a fight. Could she have gone home?"

  "I don't recall Melissa ever fighting with any of her beaus, and even if she and Ian had had words, she'd not have left the ball."

  "Are you sure?"

  Alanna considered his question more thoughtfully this time. Melissa had been strangely anxious of late, and Alanna was forced to admit that perhaps she couldn't successfully predict what her cousin might have done. "Well, it would have been unlike her to leave without telling her parents, and asking me to come with her."

  "All right, then let's assume she didn't go home. Ian likes to play billiards at the Raleigh Tavern. Could they be there?"

  "Do men frequently invite ladies into the billiard room?"

  "No, but with so many people here at the ball, things could be different tonight."

  The Raleigh Tavern was at the other end of town, and Alanna doubted Melissa would have wanted to walk all the way there in her ball gown. "Thank you for trying to help, Lieutenant, but I really don't believe they would have gone as far as the Raleigh. Perhaps I'm being very foolish. As long as Melissa is with Ian, I'm sure she'll be safe, regardless of where they've gone."

  "Yes, Ian always behaves as a gentleman, and I know he's fond of Melissa."

  "Maybe we'll find them among the dancers," Alanna prayed aloud. "Would you mind going back inside?"

  Graham leapt to his feet. "Not if I can dance with you again."

  Ashamed that she hadn't been as gracious with him earlier, Alanna apologized, but as they danced they kept watching for Melissa and Ian, and came to the quick conclusion that the couple just wasn't there.

  As the musicians paused for a break, Rachel Barclay came to Alanna's side. "Have you seen Melissa?" she asked. "Our dear friends, the Harleys, are here, and I want her to speak with them."

  Alanna fully expected Graham to blurt out how long they had been looking for Melissa, but for once he remained silent. "Why no, Aunt Rachel, I've not seen her."

  "She must be in the garden. Well, you come with me then, dear. Will you excuse us, Lieutenant? The Harleys haven't seen Alanna in years, but I know you'd prefer to dance."

  "Why no, I'd be honored to meet your friends," Graham assured her.

  Alanna was surprised to discover she was relieved by Graham's presence, and her aunt didn't seem at all displeased to have him accompany them to the far corner, where her husband stood talking with an elderly couple. Alanna only dimly recalled their faces, but she greeted them warmly, as though she regarded them as fondly as her aunt and uncle did.

  All too soon, however, her uncle excused himself in another attempt to summon Melissa, and Alanna had scant hope that he'd be able to find her. She and Graham exchanged a fearful glance, and when John Barclay returned alone, they steeled themselves for what would surely be difficult questions. At first, John was merely perplexed rather than angry, but when Alanna finally confessed Melissa and Ian hadn't been seen for at least an hour, he grabbed Graham by the arm and they went off to conduct a thorough search for the missing couple.

  Although embarrassed that they could not account for Melissa's whereabouts, Rachel pretended not to be in the least bit concerned as she bid the Harleys farewell. She and Alanna moved down the side of the large ballroom to the first open space. Rachel then began to fan herself with furious strokes, while Alanna fidgeted nervously by her side. When Randolph O'Neil approached, greeted her aunt, and asked her to dance, she was much too upset to accept.

  "I'm so sorry, but Melissa seems to have disappeared. I'm sure she hasn't really disappeared, you understand. It's just that no one has seen her for a while. Would you be so kind as to help my uncle look for her? She was with Lieutenant Scott a while ago, and now no one can find them."

  Randolph had spent the earlier portion of the evening dining with a friend, and now bitterly regretted not arriving earlier. "I'd much rather dance with you," he readily admitted, "but I'll do whatever I can to find Melissa, and perhaps you'll have time for me later."

  "Yes, of course, thank you." Alanna was relieved Randolph had accepted her excuse graciously, and hoped that with another pair of eyes, Melissa would promptly be found.

  A few minutes later, John Barclay returned alone to his wife and niece. His lips were set in a thin line, and his brow deeply furrowed. He slipped his arm around Rachel's waist, nodded toward Alanna, and calmly announced a sudden desire to depart, but both women hung back.

  "I'll explain everything once we reach the carriage," he added in an insistent whisper. "Please, let's just go."

  "What's happened to Melissa?" Rachel asked fretfully.

  "Nothing." John stubbornly refused to say more before leaving the palace. Andrew McBride, Polly and Jacob's son, had driven the Barclay carriage that night, and had brought it up to the door. As soon as they were all comfortably seated inside, John signaled for Andrew to get underway, and pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. "I came out to the carriage to ask Andrew to help us look for Melissa, and found that she'd left this note with him. She and Ian have eloped."

  Stunned, Alanna gasped sharply, but her heartbroken aunt began to weep as though she had just been told that her dear daughter was dead. Alanna hurriedly found her a handkerchief, but her kind gesture only intensified her aunt's mournful sobs.

  "Rachel, please." Unsympathetic, John leaned forward as he spoke. "You don't think I plan for anyone else to learn of this ridiculous elopement, do you? Melissa could have had any man she wanted. Why in God's name would she have chosen some penniless soldier?"

  "She must love him," Alanna mused aloud, but the threatening look she received from her uncle discouraged further speculation.

  "Did Melissa tell you what they intended to do tonight?" John asked.

  "No, sir, she didn't."

  "You've no idea where they've gone?"

  "Absolutely none."

  John sat back and eyed his niece with a suspicious glance. "You swear you weren't privy to their plans, and yet you didn't inform us immediately when you couldn't locate them. I think you're lying to me, Alanna, and I shan't forgive it."

  "Oh, Uncle John, I wouldn't lie to you and Aunt Rachel," Alanna swore.

  Convinced that was only another blatant prevarication, John refused to believe her. He looked away and ignored her for the remainder of the trip home.

  * * *

  Just as Ian had predicted, the chaplain was easily convinced to perform a marriage ceremony. Due to the lateness of the hour, Ian presented Melissa with his own onyx signet ring, and they were pronounced husband and wife within thirty minutes of leaving the ball. He then hired a carriage for the journey to Melissa's home and, in the comfort of the lumbering vehicle, he held her in his arms and kissed her until neither of them could recall ever being apart. Once they reached their destination, he bribed the driver handsomely to return to Williamsburg without divulging where he had gone, or who his passengers had been. None of the Barclays' servants slept in the main house, and as the couple entered, it seemed eerily quiet.

  "We dare not light any candles," Melissa whispered. "Someone might see the light and come to investigate."

  "That's fine with me. I don't want any company other than yours."

  "I want to bring some wine upstairs with us. We ought to toast ourselves, don't you think?"

  Ian was already so drunk with desire, he doubted he could taste it. "If you don't insist that my tributes to your beauty rhyme, I'll be happy to answer each of your toasts with one of my own."

  "No, I know you're a soldier rather than a poet." Melissa went into the dining room and returned with a bottle of a neighbor's peach wine she knew to be especially potent and

  crystal goblets which s
he handed to Ian to carry. She then led him up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, she paused again.

  "I want to go to my room first for a nightgown."

  Ian didn't argue, but he planned to strip her nude as soon as she joined him in bed. He waited at her door as she fetched the gown. The room held a subtle hint of her perfume, and its teasing assault of his senses increased his impatience to make her his own. When she returned to him, he shifted the goblets to one hand, grabbed her in a fervent embrace with the other, and kissed her long and hard.

  Breathless when he finally broke away, Melissa pleaded softly, "Can't you wait until we're upstairs?" Despite her complaint, she was thrilled by his eagerness to consummate their marriage, for it meant he would be all the easier to fool. When they reached the third floor, she made her choice without conscious thought, and guided him to the room Hunter had occupied. Once inside, she turned the key in the lock to assure their privacy, and then asked him to pour the wine.

  It took a moment for Ian to locate a table, but once he had, he opened the bottle she handed him, and filled both goblets. "Thank you for becoming my wife," he offered rather shyly.

  Melissa pretended to take a sip of her wine, and was pleased when Ian nearly drained his goblet. She promptly refilled it. "Thank you. That was a fine toast. I knew you could do it. Now let's drink to a long and happy life."

  Again, the wine only caressed Melissa's lips, while Ian took a generous swallow. She pretended to refill her goblet, and then replenished his. "We should also hope for prosperity, don't you think?"

  "Yes, indeed." The peach-flavored wine was too sweet for Ian's usual tastes, but that night it seemed perfect. When Melissa gave him more, he took a generous sip. "We ought to wish for bright and beautiful children."

  "With us as parents, they will certainly be both intelligent and handsome." Melissa touched the lip of her goblet to Ian's and he took another drink without noticing that she hadn't. She was ashamed to be resorting to alcohol to facilitate her plan, but dared not risk bedding him sober. He obliged her request for toasts with several more, and when he began to get silly and giggle, she knew his perceptions were no longer clear enough to allow him to see her for what she truly was.