Surrender to the Fury Read online

  “Mama, look at me,” crowed Brand, waving his chubby arms in the air. “Captain Drummond said I could ride Scout by myself when I get a little bigger.”

  “Would you please put my son down, Captain Drummond,” Aimee demanded.

  Nick obliged despite Brand’s keen disappointment.

  “Run into the house, Brand. Savannah has breakfast prepared.”

  “I already had breakfast, Mama. I ate with Captain Drummond.”

  Aimee ground her teeth in frustration. “Don’t argue, Brand, just go inside. I want to talk to Captain Drummond in private.” The little fellow looked hurt and puzzled but nevertheless obeyed his mother. She rarely spoke to him in that tone of voice, and when she did, he scrambled to do her bidding.

  The moment he was out of earshot, Aimee rounded on Nick. “How dare you try to turn my son against me! I want you to keep away from him.”

  Nick’s face grew stony. “He’s a child, for God’s sake. Why would I possibly want to turn him against you? Has it ever occurred to you that I genuinely like the boy? I’d never harm him.”

  “I don’t trust Yankees. And cheating rogues are even more despicable.”

  Nick gnashed his teeth in vexation. “I didn’t cheat you, Aimee, I won fair and square. You agreed to draw against me, knowing full well what I wanted from you if I won.”

  Aimee flushed, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. Except for Lieutenant Dill, who was eyeing them curiously, no one seemed to be giving them a passing glance. Just to be safe, she lowered her voice. “Don’t remind me of my folly. That part of my life is over and done with. It ended the night you took … took everything from me. I had nothing left to give when you finished with me.”

  “Evidently Beau Trevor didn’t find you lacking.” Nick’s lips curved into a wry curl. Aimee had sorely hurt him with her ridiculous accusation, and he wanted to lash out at her. But all he did was stoke the fires of her temper.

  “Don’t you dare say anything bad about Beau,” she hissed. “The man was an angel compared to you.”

  Nick winced. Did she love her husband so much? “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know all I want to know about you, and I don’t like any of it. You’re not fit company for my son, so keep away from him.” She whirled on her heel and stomped away.

  Unwilling to be bested by the acid-tongued little witch, Nick slid from his horse and grasped Aimee about the waist, swinging her around to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mrs. Trevor. You, your son, this house, and everything here are mine to command. I strongly suggest you obey me in all things and do nothing to invite my anger. If you behave, no harm will come to you. But I’m giving you fair warning—if you go too far, my good graces will end. Do you think I’m stupid? If not for me and my men, you would slowly starve to death. Be grateful I haven’t ordered you to yield to me in … other ways. Some men I know wouldn’t be so considerate.”

  “Considerate!” Aimee’s eyes flashed indignantly. “Yankees aren’t considerate, they’re devils. They’ve raped our land and our women, and stolen our birthright. What can I hope to leave Brand when he’s grown? A wreck of a house with no money to pay the taxes or feed a family? Land ravaged by war, and no one to work its fallow acres? A legacy of death and destruction? I haven’t even begun to enumerate the wrongs you’ve personally done to me. Go away, just go away!”

  Aimee’s bitter recriminations stunned and bewildered Nick. He’d done nothing so terrible to her that he knew about. Nor had he asked anything of her that she wasn’t prepared to relinquish to any other man to whom she owed a debt of honor. She had probably repaid many a debt in the same manner. That she’d been harboring a grudge against him all these years gave him pause. Was it because he had left her so abruptly the next morning?

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Trevor, but I have an important job to do here that makes my presence necessary. As for your son, the lad seems to enjoy mingling with my men, and I’ll not interfere with that enjoyment. He’s had little enough pleasure in his young life, and he reminds my men of the children they left behind. No one would dare harm him.”

  Having said all he was going to on the subject, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Aimee fuming in impotent rage. Having Nick Drummond walk into her life again brought back bittersweet memories she’d rather forget.

  Chapter 3

  … He touched his tongue to her nipple. She shivered in response. He told her that her body was made for love. He lowered the dress down her hips and legs and lifted her from the circle of cloth. Her petticoats and underwear followed in quick order. She stood before him clad only in shoes and stockings held up by frilly garters, shivering as his hot gaze slid over her. His eyes worshiped every place they touched—and they touched everywhere. Her shivering increased. He told her he wouldn’t hurt her, that he only wanted to love her. Then he swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed.

  Taking her foot in his hand, he slowly peeled the stocking from her leg, nuzzling the soft white inside of her thigh, her calf, her instep. He repeated the process with the other leg. Then he sat back on his heels and removed his jacket and shirt. The sight of his muscular chest captivated her, and she stared transfixed at the thick mat of curly black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. When he stood to remove his trousers, she tore her eyes away. But his husky, seductive whisper urging her to look at him brought her glazed eyes back to his magnificent body. He slid his trousers and underwear down his hips and legs in one smooth motion and stood before her as God had created him—wonderfully male, arrogant, proud, fully erect. Her eyes paused briefly at the juncture of his legs, then opened wide in alarm and disbelief as they flew up to his face. He was so …

  “Aimee, are you all right, honey?” Savannah had walked into the parlor to find Aimee staring into space, her eyes unfocused, her body rigid.

  Aimee started violently. Ever since that scoundrel Nick Drummond had intruded upon her life, she had had a difficult time controlling her thoughts. Though in the past she had thought about him upon occasion—how could she not when she had a living reminder of him?—it had never been to such an extent that she recalled every vivid detail of every minute they’d spent together. Previously, all she cared to remember was what a devil he was and the hatred she bore him.

  “I’m fine, Savannah.”

  “What you doin’ in here all by yourself?”

  “I—I was thinking this room should be given a thorough cleaning.”

  “Why?” Savannah snorted. “Ain’t no furniture in here to clean, so why bother? Most of de house ain’t livable ’cept for de kitchen and some of de bedrooms. ’Sides,” she added astutely, “you can’t fool me, honey. Somethin’s botherin’ you. Ever since dem Yankees rode in, you ain’t been de same.”

  “You’re imagining things, Savannah. If I haven’t been the same since the Yankees came to Tall Oaks, it’s because I haven’t forgotten that Yankees are responsible for Beau’s death.”

  Savannah’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. She wasn’t fooled for a minute. “Dem Yankees been here for nearly two weeks, and dey ain’t caused us no harm so far. I ain’t sayin’ I love dem, but at least we’s eatin’ regular. I’m thinkin’ it’s only one Yankee dat’s botherin’ you so much. You got a special grudge against Captain Drummond, and I ain’t figured out why.”

  “There is nothing to figure out, Savannah,” Aimee insisted stubbornly. “Stop trying to place any importance on my hatred for Captain Drummond. The man is an arrogant bastard who has taken over our lives without considering our feelings. Tall Oaks is mine; he has no business being here.”

  “C’mon, honey, why don’t you come into de kitchen with me and help prepare supper. Dere’s a brace of nice plump rabbits ready to be skinned and made into a tasty stew. Why, dere’s even some sugar and flour to make Brand his favorite cookies.”

  Later, as Aimee rolled out sugar cookies for Brand, and Savannah put together the ingredients for the
stew, a lone rider rode into the yard. His horse was lathered, and when he dismounted, his legs nearly gave way beneath him. He looked as if he had ridden fast and hard. Savannah joined Aimee at the back door as a soldier pointed out the man to Nick.

  “Wonder what dat’s all about,” Savannah said curiously as the man placed a leather pouch in Nick’s hand.

  “Probably some kind of messenger,” Aimee assumed. “I wonder …” She shrugged and turned away.

  Nick directed the man to the soldiers’ mess, then walked slowly toward the house with the pouch. Aimee heard the front door slam behind him and his steps reverberating on the stairs as he sought the privacy of his room to peruse the dispatch from headquarters. It was the first time since the Yankees occupied Tall Oaks that a messenger had arrived. Though Aimee was curious, she deliberately refrained from speculating on the contents of the pouch. The war had caused her and her loved ones untold grief, and she had been able to cope with it by disassociating herself from its daily horrors. It might be cowardly, but it was her way of keeping her sanity.

  The next day Nick led a patrol out at dawn. Aimee had been waiting for just such an occasion to defy his rule about leaving the confines of the house and yard. She knew the berries that grew in the nearby woods were ripe, and she planned to slip away at the first opportunity to gather them. There was still some sugar left, and they’d make delicious pies. She informed Savannah of her intention.

  “You know what Captain Drummond said, honey,” Savannah warned her. “Why not ask him if you could go? Dat way he can’t say nothin’ when he learned you went against his wishes.”

  Aimee bristled angrily. “I’m not going to let that man control my life! I’ve always picked berries this time of year, and I’m not going to let one of his silly rules stop me now. Please watch Brand while I’m gone; I’ll be back long before Captain Drummond returns from patrol.”

  Savannah shook her head with misgiving as she watched Aimee walk toward the woods, a pail slung over her arm. “Stubborn,” she muttered aloud. “She’s de stubbornest little gal I ever seen.”

  “Where are you going, Mrs. Trevor?” Lieutenant Dill’s challenge halted Aimee’s progress across the yard. He greatly admired the petite, blond widow but was astute enough to know that Captain Drummond had some kind of prior claim.

  “That should be obvious, Lieutenant,” Aimee said sweetly. “I’m going to pick berries. Berry pie will make a nice treat for tonight’s supper.”

  “Indeed it will,” agreed Dill. “Has Captain Drummond approved your little excursion into the woods?”

  “Of course,” Aimee lied. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be going.”

  “Then I won’t stop you.” Dill smiled, easily manipulated by Aimee’s sherry-colored eyes and innocent manner. “I’ll look forward with pleasure to supper tonight.”

  The woods was cool and dark. Aimee threaded her way around fallen trees and rotting vegetation as she headed directly toward the berry patch she had discovered years ago when she was still a new bride at Tall Oaks. Beau had enjoyed many a berry pie made from the fruits of that particular patch. Just as she suspected, the vines were heavy with large, succulent blackberries just waiting to be plucked from their thorny vines. She filled the pail in no time at all.

  “Aimee.” Her name rustled through the leaves like a disembodied specter. She heard it clearly but couldn’t see its source. “Aimee, over here, behind the tall oak with the twisted trunk.”

  Whirling about, Aimee stared at the tree, unable to see through the massive trunk to the voice beyond. The fine hair at the nape of her neck stood on end and a frisson of fear curled down her spine. “Who—who are you? What do you want with me?”

  Several tense seconds passed before the speaker stepped from behind the gnarled oak. Aimee gasped in recognition.

  “God, Aimee, it’s good to see you. You’re just as beautiful as ever.”

  “Gar! Garson Pinder. I’d heard you’d been seriously wounded and were not expected to recover.” Garson Pinder and his family were friends of the Trevors’. On occasion she and Beau had visited their lovely plantation, located a half day’s journey from Tall Oaks. Only the burned-out hulk of their once magnificent house now stood. Garson’s two sisters and mother were now living with relatives in Savannah. His father had fallen at Gettysburg.

  Gar grinned impudently as his eyes raked Aimee from head to toe. He’d always been a cocky young man, and Aimee was surprised to see how little the war had changed him. On more than one occasion he had flirted openly with Aimee, but since he and Beau were such fast friends and no harm had come of his overtures, she had never mentioned the situation to her husband.

  “As you can see, I’m alive and well. I’m attached to army intelligence now.”

  “What are you doing here? Don’t you know Tall Oaks is swarming with Yankees?”

  “At least they didn’t burn it down like Rose Acres and other surrounding plantations,” he said with a hint of accusation.

  Aimee flushed guiltily, though in truth she had no reason to feel guilty. “I’m sorry. But you haven’t answered my question. What are you doing in the midst of Yankee territory?”

  “I followed a messenger here yesterday. I’ve been hiding in the woods ever since, hoping to have a private word with you. According to my information, Captain Nick Drummond is in charge of the blue-bellies billeted at Tall Oaks. Is that correct?”

  “Your information is correct.” Aimee wondered where this conversation was leading.

  Gar moistened his slips, peered at her through hooded eyes, and asked, “Have they harmed you in any way?”

  “No, they’ve not touched me. I’m in no danger as long as I abide by Captain Drummond’s rules.”

  Gar nodded, apparently satisfied. “I need your help, Aimee. I desperately need to know what those dispatches the messenger delivered yesterday contained, and there is no way I can get inside the house without being caught. It’s essential to the Confederacy that I learn the enemy’s next move in the area. I have reason to believe that dispatches inside that pouch reveal the exact location of the North’s next target.”

  Aimee didn’t need an interpreter to know exactly what Gar was asking of her. “You want me to spy?”

  “I’m asking you to do whatever is necessary to get that vital information to me. You’re a beautiful woman, Aimee,” he hinted crudely. “You should have little problem finding out what I need to know.”

  Aimee paused. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? “Just how far am I expected to go in order to get this information?”

  Gar looked at her squarely, stripping her of everything but her pride. “I think you get the picture, Aimee. Do you think Beau would fault you if he knew how desperately the South needs your help? I don’t care how you come by the information, I’m just telling you that without it, the war is as good as lost. You’ve been married; you know about men and how easy it is to beguile them.”

  Privately Aimee thought the Confederacy was headed toward defeat, but being as patriotic as the next person, she refrained from voicing her opinion. Perhaps Gar was right. Perhaps the dispatches Nick received would help the South win an important battle. But she had no intention of doing as Gar suggested in order to get that information. She hesitated so long that Gar began to fidget nervously. Fearing capture, he dared not linger in the area longer than necessary.

  “Well, Aimee, will you help us? Or will you let Beau’s death go unavenged? It’s within your power to make a big difference in the course of the war.”

  With that, Aimee felt she could hardly refuse. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything,” she said hesitantly.

  Gar’s lips curled in a slow smile. “I knew you’d see things my way. After all this nasty business is over … well, you always knew you occupied a tender place in my heart. I was Beau’s best friend, and I’ll take care of you like Beau would have wanted me to.”

  Aimee had no illusions about Gar’s halfhearted promise. “Gar, I’ll help if I can
, but—”

  “Meet me here in one week, Aimee. At midnight. I’ll be waiting. If you can’t bring me the contents of the pouch, then at least read the dispatches and memorize their contents as well as any others that arrive for Drummond.”

  “I’ll try, Gar, but …” Her sentence trailed off as Gar turned abruptly and disappeared into the dappled shadows of the forest. “Gar, wait!” But it was too late. He must have tethered his mount nearby, for she heard the horse prancing in the underbrush. Then absolute silence followed as they rode out of earshot.

  Never had Aimee been so troubled. She was basically an honest person; spying went against everything she’d ever been taught. Yet Gar made it sound as if the future of the South depended upon the information in the dispatches Nick received. He had boldly intimated that she should do anything inside or outside the bounds of propriety to obtain that information. Her head spinning with terrifying visions of what Nick would do to her if he caught her spying, Aimee slowly made her way out of the woods. She had just stepped into the clearing when a lone horseman rode straight for her, hell for leather.

  She tried to flee back into the protection of the forest, but the madman was off his horse and upon her before she could find a hiding place. “What in the hell are you doing out here when I specifically forbade you from leaving the yard?”

  “I—I thought you were gone.”

  Nick bent her a disgruntled look. “My horse threw a shoe and I had to return. Are you going to answer my question?”

  “I wanted to pick berries.”

  “So Lieutenant Dill told me. You deliberately lied to him. You knew I never gave you permission to go into the forest by yourself.”

  Aimee held her ground despite his simmering anger. “I thought a pie would taste good tonight.”

  Grasping her arm, Nick gave her a vicious shake. “Forget the pie, Aimee; don’t you know how dangerous it is traipsing through the woods by yourself? There are deserters and marauders out there who would make short work of you.” Suddenly his green eyes narrowed suspiciously and he asked, “What are you really doing out here?” He peered around warily, his hand resting on his gun.