No Greater Glory Page 20

  Living without this man would be hell on earth.

  So Emaline did the only thing she could do. She buried her desires deep within and denied herself her happily ever after.

  “I appreciate your kind words, Reece. And you surely know how important you are to me too. I have always admired your strength and how you helped my brother escape.” Tears welled in her eyes as she turned her head away from his steady appraisal. “But it’s important you rest now.” Her words tumbled over each other as her feet hit the floor. She shoved off the bed, pulling her hand from his to break their clasp. “I’ve many things to do this morning, so I must go now.”

  “Emaline, wait.”

  She gave him no opportunity to reply. Gathering up the tray, she fled the room, her heart pounding under the enormous weight of her decision.

  Reece watched her leave, his outstretched hand dropping to the bedcovers.

  “Dammit,” he snarled. The mood had shifted so abruptly. One minute she was smiling and laughing, and the next he was spilling his guts. From the tears she tried to hide, it was apparent his words had upset her all over again. Frustration filled him as he attempted to sort out confused emotions. He simply wanted to thank her again for saving his life, and off he went instead, like some rambling asinine idiot, pouring out his feelings for her.

  Reece balled his hand into a fist and slammed it upon the coverlet. Damn this helpless sensation of need, this emotional dependence. He was tired of lying on his back in bed. He needed to get back to what he knew best. Soldiering was something he did well.

  And he was sorely out of practice in all the subtleties required to woo a woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Reece waited in stony silence while Euley entered the room and placed his dinner tray beside him. He narrowed his eyes at her, his arms crossing in front of him. Three days had passed since he’d last spoken to Emaline.

  Irritation clawed a hole through his patience. “Where the hell is she?” he growled.

  “She’s busy,” the woman retorted.

  “She’s not that busy.” He ground out the words, harsh and low, and threw them toward Euley. “Tell me where she is right now.”

  “I was told to bring up da food an’ if’n you eat everythin’, den I’s to get you up to walk dis evenin’.”

  “I don’t want to eat or walk. I want to see her.”

  “Yes, Colonel, I know what you’s wantin’, only I don’t know what else to say.” She shifted the tray closer and reached behind his head to plump his pillows. “I was told to bring up da supper an’ dat’s all I’m doin’. Now if’n you don’t want to eat, then I’ll just be taking it back down stairs wif me.” Euley leveled her head and stared into his eyes. Hers narrowed into determined slits. “You get to make da choice, Colonel. Now pick.”

  “I haven’t seen her for three days. Is she ill?” The disturbing thought banished his selfish disappointment.

  “No, she’s just busy.” A smile revealed a row of crooked white teeth.

  Reece simmered under the woman’s smirk. This crafty old bat had him nailed against the wall and there would be no intimidating her. A grudging respect settled through him and he reached for the dinner tray, pulling it to his chest. All the while, his eyes remained locked with hers.

  Euley nodded each time he brought the spoon to his lips and smiled each time he swallowed. Evidently she planned to remain right where she’d planted herself until he finished every damn drop.

  Reece ate quickly.

  He was tired of being waited on hand and foot, and tired of waiting for Emaline to reappear, whenever that might be. His words softened. “You know, I didn’t properly thank you for helping save my life.”

  “Don’t thank me. Miz Emaline did most of the saving. I jus’ tore up yo’ bandages. She on the other hand, hovered over you, day an’ night. No one else could even get close.”

  “Except now,” he snapped, shoving away the empty dishes. They rattled on the tray, underscoring his frustration. “Now she doesn’t even come around. Why is that?”

  “You’ll have to be askin’ her dose questions.”

  Euley placed the tray on the side table and turned to pull the cover off him in an exaggerated swish of color. “Come on, Colonel. It’s time you started walkin’.”

  He didn’t argue. The sooner he could ambulate, the sooner he could find Emaline.

  Euley steadied him as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. After several attempts, he finally stood, Benjamin’s nightshirt ballooning around him. The wound in his chest unmercifully throbbed and he leaned upon the old woman for support.

  His foot shuffled forward and he completed his first step.

  “Dat’s good, Colonel. First one foot, den da other. You’s doin’ fine. Yes, sir. Keep this up, you’ll be back on dat horse in no time.” Euley pointed to the chair beside the fire. “Let’s work our way over dere and you can sit a spell while I change da linens.” Several hellish steps later, Reece eased onto the chair and watched as Euley went about her chores, stripping and remaking the bed and straightening-up the room.

  All the while, his frustrations percolated. His glare alternated between the open door in hopes of catching a glimpse of Emaline and watching the servant tidy his room. Twice, he nearly slipped from the chair while craning his neck to peer into the hallway.

  An hour later, Reece returned to bed even more annoyed than he’d been before.

  A week later, Emaline sat in the chair beside the open window.

  The sweet smells of a mid-summer night wafted in on the breeze and washed the fragrance of bluebells, blue-eyed violets, and trilliums around her.

  A discouraged sigh left her lips. When the door to the upstairs library squeaked open, she stiffened. “Well?”

  She continued to stare out into the darkness.

  Euley padded across the room. “He won’t tolerate being caged much longer.”

  “Did he walk on his own again?” She tossed the words over her shoulder.

  “Yes. An’ he’s done real good too. I had him up for nearly an hour, but he ain’t quite ready to take on the stairs just yet.”

  “The sooner he heals, the sooner he’ll be gone.” The pain inside her chest swelled. “Thank you for helping with him.”

  “He cares for you a great deal, Miz Emaline. You sure you want to keep avoidin’ him like dis?”

  “I’m sure,” she replied.

  “Well, he’s sleepin’ now.” Euley crossed to the door and opened it. “If’n you don’t need me any longer, I’ll be leavin’.”

  “I’ll see you again in the morning. We’ll work in the garden early while it’s still cool.”

  The woman nodded and then disappeared from view.

  Several minutes later, Emaline eased off the chair, smoothed the front of her dress, and drifted down the darkened corridor and across the upstairs landing to the master suite. Pushing open the door, she peered inside.

  Amber firelight bathed the room in a subdued glow.

  Reece slept soundly, his breath issuing in and out in a soft, steady rhythm. Emaline checked the corner of the room. His uniform, revolver and saber waited for him. Last night, she’d retrieved them from the kitchen cabinet and Euley brought them upstairs. The tools of his trade defined Reece; he would need them when he left.

  Emaline slipped into the room, the pad of her leather house shoes muffled in the lush Aubusson carpet beneath her feet.

  She came to a stop beside the bed.

  Deep in the throes of a healing sleep, his mouth slightly open, peace claimed Reece. With the beard gone, she could see the healthy return of color to his skin. Earlier this evening, Euley had washed his hair, and the long strands lay in a thick and silky wave across the pillow. A few streaks of gray marked the passing of time since they’d first met. The sight undermined Emaline’s resolve for distance. Her hands curled at her sides, the need to slide her fingers through the dark locks unraveling the enormous ache inside her heart. There was no use denying,
she cared deeply for this man.

  She lowered her mouth, stopping just short of touching his.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  From where he stood at the upstairs window, Reece watched Emaline move among the rows of corn. Laid out near the summer kitchen, the garden held a bounty of crops and would yield an abundant harvest this year.

  He sighed. More than a week had passed since they’d last spoken, and he could move fairly well around the upstairs bedroom. Despite their rocky beginning, he and Euley also had developed an unexpected friendship. Reece found he enjoyed hearing the woman’s views about many things.

  His thoughts shifted backward to his shave this morning where he learned how much the old woman admired Emaline.

  “After Master Benjamin died, she told us we could leave if’n we wanted to, even gave us official papers drawn up at the county court house to prove it, though most white folks disapproved of her doin’ so.” Euley chuckled, holding the mirror in place while Reece angled his jaw for the blade. “Miz Emaline been good to me an’ Israel. So we stayed.” She placed the mirror on the side table and handed him a towel, her chatter continuing. “Our daughter lives at Wildwood plantation over near da Rapidan River. Wildwood’s owners refugeed to Richmond last year and just left dere people behind to fend for themselves. We’s leavin’ tonight to go visit Bertie for a few days. Gonna spend time rockin’ my new grandbaby.” Euley removed the basin of dirty water, and Reece nodded.

  “You both take care on the ride over,” he said. “There was heavy fighting on the Rapidan near Morton’s Ford earlier this year and deserters from both sides could still be roaming the area.”

  “I appreciate yo’ concern, Colonel. We’ll keep our eyes wide open.”

  A smile tugged at Reece’s lips as he watched Emaline gingerly step across the rows of carrots, their emerald tops ruffling where her skirt’s hem brushed. A building excitement wound through him like a whirlwind.

  She would serve his evening meal tonight since Euley would be gone. And a quick glance at the clock told him just how many hours remained.

  He looked back. A hot June afternoon beat down upon Emaline, but she couldn’t hide from him beneath the wide-brimmed hat. Her face, now a golden tan, bore small creases near her eyes. She worked hard, tirelessly turning the soil, pulling away the weeds, and watering her precious food supply. With each passing day at this window, his feelings for her grew right along with her bountiful stand of vegetables. He longed for her touch and envied the plants she tended with such caring, devoted hands. They received so much of her and he now nothing at all. He starved for her touch, her smile, her breath against his skin.

  It had been an eternity since he’d kissed her.

  Reece pushed away from the window, his feet slamming against the patterned rug with muffled force.

  Tonight.

  She would not be able to avoid him tonight.

  Emaline finished lugging the bucketfuls of warm water upstairs.

  Even though she’d used the servant’s stairway, being quiet during the many trips up and down had been the hardest part. She repeatedly poured in water, but on this final trip, she misjudged the distance between the bucket and the side of her slipper tub.

  Metal clanked against metal.

  Her lips compressed and she glanced to the door, but the promise of a much-needed bath shoved aside all lingering caution. Working in the garden had drained her, physically and mentally, and she closed her bedroom door, then stripped from her soiled garments.

  The breeze from the open window wafted across her nakedness. The faint, familiar trace of pine, the piquant aromas of horses and mules from the stable, Rappahannock’s brackish hint, all mingled with the lavender oil skimming the surface of her bath water. Tired arms wrapped her body and her eyes drifted closed. Though Reece slept down the hall, her mind brought him to her.

  For a moment, the raw, renewed strength of the man enveloped her.

  Emaline opened her eyes, and settled her gaze on the portrait above the fireplace. The muted oil, an Edmund Blair Leighton original, had been another one of her husband’s long-ago gifts. A single candle burned low on the mantel and plunged the angst-filled features of Tristan and Isolde into shadows. Isolde clutched a gilded harp, and Tristan a dragon’s head—lost lovers bound by the dictates of their day; they smothered their mutual passion and pretended indifference.

  Another sigh filled the room. Wavy candlelight washed across the dark, distressed mantel, highlighting the sleek stallion carving in the center of the oak. Powerful and magnificent.

  Like Reece.

  It would be so simple to open the door and go to him. And yet, regardless of what she said or did, he would still leave. That fact would never change. Emaline stepped over the edge of the metal and slid into the bath, willing the water to wash away all her desires for the man.

  Reece clasped his hands behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling. He listened intently, trying to place the far-away sound.

  Clanking metal?

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. A moment later, he paced across the room to the door. Tomorrow he would take on the challenge of descending the main staircase. The resolution came directly on the heels of discovering his dinner sitting on the floor outside his bedroom, three hours earlier. One small knock upon the closed door announced its arrival. The retreating footfalls only fueled his determination to be up and moving. He was finished with lying in bed.

  Emaline had avoided him for the last time.

  Reece steadied himself at the door, then eased it open and peered into the hallway. Darkness prevailed, except for the wafer-thin slice of light coming from beneath the door at the end of the corridor. She was in there. Alone. Reece traversed the hall and stood just outside the closed door. Faint, muffled humming, angel-sweet and low, mingled with splashing water. He wiped his palm on his pants leg, then turned the brass knob.

  The door swung open on silent hinges.

  Light from a single candle illuminated the room in muted shadows. A small bank of orange coals in the fireplace bounced off a copper tub on the hearth, setting the metal aflame. The ethereal image of Emaline bathing ignited a fire that blazed straight to his groin.

  His breath locked up somewhere inside his chest, his heart stopping in mid-beat.

  With a will of its own, his erection pulsed into life. Hard and heavy, pressing against the buttoned fly of his pants. A rush of desire, urgent and unremitting, engulfed Reece. Locked in a fervent trance, he could only stare at the breathtaking woman in the center of the tub.

  She sat angled away from him, the small swell of her breast visible just above the edge of copper.

  Water glistened in shimmering droplets across ivory shoulders. She was a goddess sculpted in marble. As Emaline lifted her right arm, his gaze followed her hand. Inch by luxurious inch, she smoothed lather across the slender length. Small, slick, lavender-infused bubbles glistened in the candlelight and then broke a twinkling moment later. She cupped her hand and sluiced water over her shoulder.

  Tiny rivulets caught the candle’s glow.

  Iridescent beads sparkled over her collarbone, then spilled in a provocative sweep down her spine to nestle at the wondrous curve of her back. Unbound hair, a glorious mass over her far shoulder, darkened into the color of a raven’s wing, the subdued light reflecting through damp, luxurious strands—all around her, steam radiated upward; caressing, embracing her polished and perfect curves.

  Reece swayed. His hand slammed against the doorframe to keep him upright. In a strangling effort, he brought a rush of air back into his lungs as a blinding ache for her burned through him, begging for release.

  He would deny the beast no longer.

  His groan reached Emaline’s ears from across the room.

  Her gaze lanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening as they locked with his. She gasped his name, the word tumbling from her lips in a raw whisper. For a long, stretched-out moment, he held her gaze; his
lungs heaving in another quart of air while his passion for her strengthened. “You’ve avoided me for days.” His voice scraped across the room. “Now I want to know why.”

  A maelstrom of emotions swirled through Emaline. In the time she’d known this man, she’d confronted so many chaotic sensations. No other male on earth had seen her bathe. None had seen her naked. With Benjamin, she’d been swathed in darkness, encased in cotton. She’d always closed her eyes.

  With this strong and stalwart man, such thoughts seemed ludicrous.

  Emaline fought for control, surprised she could find logic, or her voice, amid the quaking awareness rippling through her. “I thought it best.”

  “For whom?” he rasped, his hand still bracing against the wood.

  She skimmed his magnificence. Barefoot, tight-fitting cavalry pants, no shirt. Across the smattering of dark chest hair, a fading bruise encircled the eight-inch scar, a malevolent serpent carved on his skin to forevermore remind him of the price he’d paid in war.

  “Don’t do this, Reece,” she whispered, drawing her legs up to shield herself. “We both know you’ll be leaving soon.” Her tone sounded much too rational—the words presented with a weeklong rush of practice. “I thought it best that—”

  “You should’ve asked what I thought.” Amber light fell across the hard planes of his face. The searing heat, the intensity in his eyes bewitched her. “I’ve been driven mad waiting for even a glimpse of you.” He was a powerful beast and his burning gaze ordered her to surrender, his low words flowing over her in a ragged whisper to push aside her foolish fears. “I would never knowingly hurt you, Emaline. Surely to God, you know this by now.”

  She knew. Deep inside, the pleading of the forgotten woman begged her to respond to this provocative man. Yield to him. Welcome him with all the wild abandon she saw reflected in his eyes. As futile as she knew it to be, however, she tried one last time to deny the inevitable. “Your upcoming departure is hurt enough.”