Like Bowman, Rachel groped through the vegetation. A key. She inserted it in the lock and swung open the door to a large garden with meandering graveled paths, boxwood hedges, a gazebo and a fountain, all the accoutrements of one endowed with vast wealth.
A stone mansion stood three stories high. Lamps burned in a room on the ground floor. Through French doors, gilt mirrors, rich oil paintings, a pianoforte and other lavish furnishings were scattered. Did Lieutenant Bowman live here?
Was he one of the leaders, if not the head of the hydra?
“Is your curiosity satisfied?”
Rachel whirled to find Lucas scarcely a foot behind her, his tall frame leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. Gooseflesh rippled up her back. She darted. Rachel was quick, but Lucas was quicker. His hands closed over her shoulders in a ruthless grip. His face in the shadowed light gave no clue what he was thinking, but his mood was evident.
“What good will running do?” he murmured dangerously. “Where could you possibly go that I would not hunt you down?”
She pushed against him. He’d not budge. “You have no right to hold me here.”
“I have every right in the world. I am your husband.”
“For some insane reason, you cling to that fiction.”
“You are my wife in every sense of the word. Or, will our child be fiction when he or she is born nine months from now?”
She had tamped down the possibility of a child.
“I thought not,” he answered for her. “I suppose you thought it was fiction when those drunken louts were about to strip you down.”
“It was you who—”
“Yes, it was me who stopped them. Can you imagine their surprise at finding a woman? I shudder to think what that mob would have done to you.”
“Well, I—”
“Of course not. You don’t think. You throw caution to the wind. And now you’re skulking around in the dark outside Lieutenant Bowman’s home.”
“His home? On a minor officer’s salary?”
“Why are you so interested in him?”
Rachel licked her lips, trying to think of a plausible explanation, but Lucas’ nearness scattered her wits. How she longed to see his smile. To feel his warmth. Rachel swallowed. This wasn’t the end of her susceptibility to him, a weakness that would be with her forever.
She had hoped they could turn a blind eye toward their mutual attraction for each other, disregard it, or at least brush it off as insignificant. That was the best solution, and that was she’d set her mind to do.
Instead, Lucas had imprisoned her like an animal in a trap, and the force of his grasp conveyed the maddening conviction that nothing she said would make amends. Her heart pounded, furious with her vulnerability to him, especially since she had chosen to be more benevolent.
For an instant, nothing moved in the moonswept night. Not even a leaf stirred. The garden lay heavy, somnolent, and empty. She gazed into Lucas’ eyes, eyes as cold and hard as flint in the meager light, and she had no doubt of his intentions.
He was ready to throttle her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
She had made a fool of him by keeping from him that she was the Saint. Beneath that shimmering, glittering surface he had drowned in her monstrous deception. Her willful intent to obscure the truth, to mislead, to disguise who she really was had emerged into a cold and calculating betrayal.
What was he going to do with her? Lucas stared down into Rachel’s defiant face, and he realized what he ought to do, understood what his best option would be, and was furious enough that he almost found that option appealing.
“So, you use threats and intimidation to force me into compliance?”
Lucas stood silent. Her breathing came hard and even. The smell of damp earth, and her scent—roses, clung to the air. He gritted his teeth. Why was everything so black and white to her?
The lamps went out on the first floor. Lucas turned his head, gazed at a brighter path of light. Someone progressed to the second floor, and then the light floated to the third floor and far down a west wing. The light hovered as if suspended then extinguished into darkness. Lieutenant Bowman retired for the night. Lucas turned his gaze back to Rachel, returned her hostility with a cold stare.
“Do you realize Bowman could have something to do with the Copperheads?”
