He hated seeing her shy, worrying he had something to do with her reaction. Of course, he had something to do with it. He should have told her his intentions. Courting...well, he didn't know the steps to take. After all, he'd never truly courted his Julia. After encountering her, she'd asked him to meet her in secret. He'd thought her forward and loved it, but she had taken him on adventures through small villages, stealing bread and cheese along the way, sipping wine on the cuff, and all the while laughing. It was more than three months of dark adventures, running and chuckling uncontrollably at midnight, then Julia had taken him by the hand and shown him physical intimacy, actually teaching him exactly where to touch and how, like a schoolmarm would. But, heavens, the lessons were thrilling! They wed the fortnight after that first instruction.

Will would never forget how much fun he'd had with Julia, but all the while he'd worried he'd get caught, she'd get caught, or something untoward would happen. And it did. Just not when they were running wildly through the countryside. After they were married Will never stopped worrying.

Even now, standing with Erva, he thought of consequences. d.a.m.nation, he should have told her his intentions. He should have explained himself. No wonder the woman was shy with him now. But Will knew she was timid beyond not knowing what lay in his heart. She was such an odd dichotomy of strength and vulnerability, musical talent beyond compare and lack of a.s.suredness, intelligence yet not knowing how commanding she was. Well, if it took him the rest of his life, he'd show her her strengths and power.

"My darling," he caught himself whispering, before clearing his throat. "I'd like you to meet Private Gabriel Lukas."

He turned to the Private, trying to sit up with the use of his good elbow.

The lady curtsied and rushed to the young soldier, helping him prop up more, then fluffing his pillow. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Private Lukas."

For several beats the Private said nothing as the lady moved beside him, smiling down. His face was painted in red almost the same color as his hair. He kept swallowing and finally nodded. "P-p-pleasure's all mine, my lady."

She smiled widely. "You wouldn't happen to be the same Private Lukas who knows how to shoot a rifled musket, would you?"

The young man blushed even more.

"He is one in the same," Will answered.

Erva glanced at him, her smile shifting into something...wistful? Or was that pain that crossed her eyes. She blinked and stared at him for a heartbeat more, then turned back to the Private.

"Have you joined the Queen's Rangers then?"

Will's chest puffed with pride when his lady spoke so learnedly of his army.

Lukas shook his head. "No, ma'am."

But then it suddenly occurred to Will that he'd just sent a letter to Howe, wanting Lukas to be transferred to the Queen's Rangers upon recovery. He wrote the letter only a week ago. How would Erva know that?

Lord, could she be a spy after all.

He inhaled, thinking fast. If she were, then he'd convert. Lord, he never thought himself a turncoat, and as much as he prided himself on his English blood, he didn't believe in this war. He didn't support it. The only reason he'd been here...

Mayhap he could convert Erva?

But what the h.e.l.l was that odd gla.s.s box that lit up? A spy gadget? Or, perhaps, something more...magical?

It was time to get to the bottom of who she was. It was time to tell her his intentions that no matter what she told him, he wished to marry her. If she'd have him.

As Will and Dr. Goodfellow watched silently, Erva and Lukas chatted for a few minutes about rifled muskets, breach-loading rifles, and ammunition. She knew so much. More than any woman he'd met before. But then again, she'd said her father had been in the military. Perhaps her father had taught her all she knew. Perhaps someone else had.

Jealousy stung through his body like ice sliding down his back. This was new for him. Oh, he'd guarded Julia. He'd loved Julia, yes, but there hadn't been enough time or opportunity for this emotion.

Now, watching his golden beauty chuckle at something the Private said, he wanted to know about any man who might have loved her. No, that wasn't quite the truth of it. He wanted to know if she loved anyone else. At the same time, he didn't want to know. Afraid he'd try to seek out the man and smash in his jaw.

Yes, it was time for answers.

"My lady," he said when both the Private and Erva had quieted. "Several officers and I are expected for tea at Lady Anne's-the usual quest of money or men for the cause. Poor woman. Thus, I'm sure the lady would greatly desire your company. I hate to leave the Private-"

"Well, the Private's had enough activity for one day, General," Dr. Goodfellow said.

Private Lukas's eyes had darkened with small half moons under them. But he stared at Erva in wide-eyed wonder all the same. Will didn't blame the Private. He'd done the same many a time.

Erva took the one healthy hand of the Private's. Giving it a squeeze, she said, "I hope to see you again, Private. And I hope you recover very soon. Perhaps in nine days. Or sooner." She gave Will a mischievous grin then as if she knew something.

Well, it was time to find out.

In the carriage Will wanted to confront Erva, ask her if she were a spy, ask about the device that lit up and played music. He wanted to know so much, but instead he only turned to her. The sunshine painted her pale delicate features into an exquisite sight, making him unable to speak.

Just to act.

He reached for her, pulling her close, feeling the softness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s meet his chest. Instantly her hands were on his shoulders, not pulling back, but at first to brace herself, then she wrapped her fingers into fists, gripping his own red uniform and drew him closer.

No words were uttered. Only the mutual, magical attraction was paid heed.

Softly he bent for a quick kiss. Her breath caught, and he kissed her again. This time he settled onto her soft lips, savoring the feel of them pressed against his own, the sweet taste of her. She licked at his bottom lip, and he opened for her, letting her tongue invade his mouth, his mind, and his on-fire body. He pulled her even nearer, slowly letting one hand trace the curve of her waist, then the roundness of one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She sighed and pried her lips from his, head tilting up, eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed down her creamy neck as his thumb rolled over her nipple, feeling it p.r.i.c.k into a tight nub.

Lord, he loved this, loved her body, loved her.

And he was utterly turning this moment of what should have been confessions into something more carnal.

Achingly he returned his hands to her waist and tried his d.a.m.nedest to stop kissing her. Still, the pale skin of her neck beckoned, and he sucked a small mouthful, but then finally relented to telling her, "G.o.d, I know it's only been a few hours, but I missed you."

"I missed you." Her voice was wispy.

"Did you sleep well, my darling?" He suckled another section of her throat.

"No. I should have stayed with you, slept with you."

He bit her, feeling the twist of satisfaction and an odd sensation of...anger. Again, he admitted he was a tad put off by her rushing away from him. But he knew why she had. Oh, there were so many reasons why a woman might run from him, but he'd never told her what lay in his heart.

"I agree," he said. "Tonight you're going to sleep with me." Lord, he sounded unbearably demanding. But the truth was, he was desperate for her. He couldn't figure out the right words to convey if she slept on her own again, he wondered if his heart would shrivel and dry until it was nothing but dust. It was utterly melodramatic of him to think such, but that didn't stop him from feeling it.

She pulled away enough to glance into his eyes. The skin around her mouth and down her neck blushed from his kiss. He'd been too rough with her again, and he chided himself for it.

"I-I want-" she began.

He cut her off, knowing it was time to act like a man. "I must apologize for never stating earlier...and with being a lady I know you need to know...I keep bungling things."

"Being a lady?"

"Yes, my intentions, of course, are to marry you. Being a lady, I should have said something sooner. Forgive my rashness."

She blinked several times, and it was then Will realized he'd left the carriage's curtains up. Well, New York's folks would positively had a show, if they had looked in. Lord, he was making a mess of things.

He pulled down the curtains, making the carriage instantly darker and somehow gloomy.

He settled beside Erva again, trying to take her waist in his hands, something he delighted in since her thin warm body under his hands sparked such feelings into his own. But she seemed to be a world away now.

"Being a lady?" she whispered again.

"Yes, I-I'm sorry for not saying anything sooner, but if you'll have me, I will marry you." Lord, why did that sound so completely lacking the romanticism of his heart, lacked his pa.s.sion, and the fact that already he knew he loved her, even if it had only been a few days since he'd met her.

"Because I'm a lady, you'll marry me?"

"Yes."

"Because I'm a lady."

Something about the way she kept repeating the word "lady" had Will's internal warning bells ringing. He knew he was botching the proposal, but he could hear from her tone that she was drifting further and further away. If only he could think of the right words for once.

"I-I seem to be saying all the wrong things. No, that's not quite right, for I do wish to marry you."

"Because I'm a lady."

"Yes. I-well, you know."

She shifted away from him. It felt as if she'd jumped ship and sailed back to England.

"Erva, since I've met you-"

"What if I'm not a lady? What then? Would this be another of your liaisons?"

He couldn't help but laugh. His lacking any kind of s.e.xual promiscuity, he'd thought, had been apparent last night. He'd been guided by her moans to ensure what he was doing was right. Lord, thinking about it made him feel a bit too tight around his c.o.c.k. Again. Would it ever settle down?

Erva turned completely from him then, wrapping her arms around herself.

"My darling, I'm-" he tried to pull one of her shoulders his direction, but she wouldn't budge. He sighed. "What-what is that box that lights up?" Now was not the time for this, but suddenly his mind and mouth were no longer under his control.

She glanced at him over one of her slender yet strong shoulders, her eyes wide. "You saw that it lights up?"

He nodded. "It seemed to play some sort of Indian music for me. The drums were spectacular."

She snorted a hard laugh and sat even further away from him, but had turned toward him in the process. "That's not Native American music, you racist."

Something struck him then, right through his heart and stomach. The pain was so real, he'd thought she'd somehow truly stabbed him. But it had been her tone and those words. "Racist? Native American?"

She rolled her eyes. "G.o.d, I'm an idiot."

"No."

"Yeah, I am, for thinking you were some enlightened...man." She hurled that last word at his heart again, wounding him deeply.

"I-I-what is a racist?"

She pointed her pretty face toward the front of the carriage. "You." She shook her head. "I-I don't think you have a word for it, but maybe racialism? Is that a word you know?"

He shook his head. "I know race, of course."

"Yes." She huffed and turned back to him, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. It unfortunately gave her cleavage even more of a desirous look, and Will found it hard to concentrate when she said, "Race as in white, non-Hispanic; black; Native American; Asian; etcetera."

"People. You're talking about people. You think me some bigot?"

"Yes!" Her hands flew to the roof. "I know people of your time, people like you, thought slaves were acceptable and were complete racists. I don't know why I thought you'd be any better."

So many thoughts flew through his mind, but he finally had the clarity to say what needed to be said. "People like me, hmm?"

"Yes."

"Now who's the bigot?"

She glanced at him, her eyes wildly dark.

"I have single-handedly emanc.i.p.ated more than five thousand slaves." His voice was a tad too low and threatening. "My first act as an officer in the Army was to destroy a slave port that my own government was bankrolling. I had to pay a heavy fine for that, I did. I know I don't say enough in Parliament, but my vote has always been for emanc.i.p.ation. I-I find myself at a loss of words in public places, like Parliament. I don't know why, for I can speak my mind in a war council, but not in politics. I wish I could change that, and I am trying. I know I don't do enough, but I'm trying.

"I have Indians in my troops whom I have given high ranks and payment for their scouting abilities. I fight for them, for without my aid I fear they will lose all their land-"

Faster than he saw coming, Erva kissed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, saying between kisses, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're such a good man."

Instantly, he reacted by kissing her back, so happy she'd returned to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she licked along his ear. "I'm acting nuts, and I'm sorry for that as well. But," she leaned her forehead on his shoulder, "I keep looking for your faults. But you have none, do you?"

He silently chuckled. "I have plenty, my darling." Smiling, he couldn't help but think her words a good omen for his question. "I'm sorry too. I should have asked you to marry me the moment we met, for I knew it then..."

Suddenly, she stopped holding him, pulling away, staring at him a moment, her eyes too wide as if she were afraid. "Because I'm a lady? That's why you feel the way you do?"

He shook his head. A pinch of anger rumbling through his veins. "Because you're you, woman."

She smiled at his incense. But slowly her smile crumbled. "I have so much I need to tell you." Then something flashed through her eyes. "Is that why you fight against the Americans? Because you fear the Native Americans will lose their land?"

Lord, that would have been a descent reason why. It sounded chivalrous.

He wished he could nod his head, make himself sound like a knight of yore, like a man Erva would admire. But he couldn't. The reason why he'd come here had been far too selfish and dark.

He squeezed her waist, feeling at once closer to her, but knowing he had so much to confess to her was almost as difficult as never touching her again. What if she did reject him? She hadn't said yes to his blasted proposal. The horses' trot slowed, and he knew they must be close to Lady Anne's estate.

"I suppose we both have much to tell, hmm?"

She smiled almost a bit sheepishly, then blinked and looked down.

The carriage stopped, and he tried to retract himself from her, but she suddenly pulled him close. She kissed him furiously, pressing her lips and b.r.e.a.s.t.s against him almost painfully so. Suddenly stopping her kiss, she pulled away enough to say, "After tea? We'll talk?"

He smiled and laughed. "I'm not sure I have the ability any longer."

She giggled and pulled even further away, smoothing his red coat as she did so, turning his already sensitive skin on fire. G.o.d, he'd like nothing more than to tear off his clothes and hers and have her right there in the carriage. The thought did nothing to his already overactive c.o.c.k.