Chapter One

Virginia 1826

“Blessed hell,” Link Stewart murmured. “Don’t believe I’ve ever been this cold.

Link knew he had never been so bloody cold in all his life. The scent on the air was wind, coldness permeating the soul coupled with snow. Wind whipped through his heavy coat as if he wore nothing at all. Flakes of the white stuff poured from the sky, the white flecks piling high on his shoulders. He crossed his arms in front of him, his head down as he plowed forward through the blinding snow, heading for the alehouse just down the block from where his ship was birthed. He grimaced as a gust hit him square in the face with gale-force power sending him back a step. Looking up had been a mistake.

Stepping into the pub he let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. In the pub the scent of male sweat and ale filled his nostrils. Cigar smoke curled in blue spirals through the meager light. He found an empty table and sat down, absorbing the warmth it presented. A few minutes passed before he was willing to rid himself of his outerwear and enjoy the atmosphere the small tavern offered. A blazing fire crackled in a fireplace situated on one wall at the side of the room. He was tempted to take up a position in front of it and warm his hands.

The serving maid who stood beside his table now slowly eyed him. Ogled might be the better word. She was a pretty young thing but her profession would make her old before her time. He grinned at her not wishing to encourage her attention, but the smile was natural for him when he saw an appealing girl. “What can I get you?” She looked to the upstairs then back to him, her meaning clear. She wouldn’t be averse to a dalliance.

He wanted to laugh at her audacity, knew it was the way she made extra money. Ah, but he supposed things didn’t change much from one country to the next. His mind was fixed however not on new dalliances with the local maids but on the rumors swirling around one Sophia Carter-Brown.

The lady was an enigma to him. She was part of why he was here. He meant to find out everything he could about the lady who did not act the role of a lady.

Link flashed the serving maid his signature grin, his smile wide, understanding the affect he had on women. “A hot toddy would be nice. Might take the bite of cold away,” he told the young woman, casting his gaze away from the girl and to the groups of men enjoying a drink this wintery afternoon.

Nothing he read about the area prepared him for this blast of frigid weather he encountered. He loathed the idea of going outside but knew in about an hour Grayson, his plantation manager, would be at the docks to pick him up. Best he learn as much local gossip now that he had the chance.

Sophia was said to have three lovers so far. It was the so far that stopped him cold. If any of this were true, she was a harlot, willing to sell herself, but for what purpose? Why would a young lady of good breeding suddenly assume a life of prostitution? What was the price she put on her body? He heard it was quite high. Listening to the conversation in the pub, she seemed to be the main topic along with who might be her next conquest. He decided he might put himself in line for that seemingly coveted role. She would know from the start, however, that he didn’t share. No, if she were to become his lover, she would have to get rid of the others.

Every last one of them.

He would tolerate nothing more.

The idea became more and more intriguing as he thought on taking her for his paramour.

His grin widened thinking about bedding the experienced young lady. He also heard she was beautiful. Link enjoyed the experienced ones. They were usually not looking for a husband, so all he needed to do was appreciate as well as adore and pamper the ladies to his heart’s content. He would look forward to seeing this woman for the first time. Wondered how she would react to him. The drink curled warmly in his belly. He would have to remember this particular concoction when he returned to Scotland. The drink was suitable for a cold winter night.

He sat back, his legs stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed, feeling the first moment of relaxation since he stepped off his ship an hour ago and into this frigid arctic weather. Yes, now that he knew what he intended, he would proceed with his plan accordingly. He wasn’t at all sure if Sophia had anything to do with the dark magic being perpetrated in the area, but she would know more than he did. Perhaps she could shed some light on the happenings, as well as why.

Strangely, he was no longer bored.

By listening to the table nearby, he heard one of Sophia’s lovers sold his plantation to Sophia’s uncle then headed back to Scotland. He wondered to himself, thought of different scenarios that might have been the cause. Perhaps she also understood the reasons for one of her lovers suddenly moving back to Glasgow. So, now there might only be two for her to get rid of when he told her his plans.

The hot toddy had the affect he wanted. His insides were suddenly feeling normal again. Normal until he left the warmth of the tavern to wander outside. Pulling out his pocket watch he noticed he still had about thirty minutes before he needed to head for the port.

The bar maid stood by his side again, moistening her lips while thrusting out one hip. She was plump and pretty, her breasts large enough to fill his hands. Her lips were soft pink as she moistened them. He wasn’t interested though. There were too many things occupying his mind. A sexual distraction was not something he wanted or needed at the moment.

He smiled, held her hand in his before he briefly kissed the back. “Maybe another time, sweetheart,” he murmured softly.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she told him her voice assuming a seductive quality as she sashayed to another table.

Ah, but Link was sure he did know what he was missing. No, he hadn’t even seen Miss Sophia Carter-Brown. Still he wanted her. No one else would do for him at least not until he learned the secrets she was hiding. She would learn quickly enough he was not a man to be played with.

If he understood women at all, he knew there were riddles to uncover then solve. He was just the man to accomplish such a feat. He looked forward to doing just that with a resolve he didn’t quite understand.

Bits and pieces of information filtered through the smoke-filled air. Sophia was still the main topic. Her latest conquest was a young man, Devon Masters. His father owned a nearby plantation, but Devon had a penchant for gambling as well as whoring. He spent his father’s money as if there was a never-ending supply. Perhaps there was. This plantation while still thriving could be brought down, he assumed, if the man did not concede to his father’s wishes. Link decided he would have to look into the finances of each of her lovers a bit more closely.

The third lover was an older man. The scenario did not ring true in this case. Once again Link decided he would have to learn more about the man. It would be gratifying to discover a common thread. The rumors spoke of his longing for Scotland though. Perhaps it was innocent. Possibly Sophia was just a woman with questionable scruples, a woman who enjoyed what a man could give her. After all he would never condemn a woman for enjoying sex. He enjoyed sex. No responsibilities attached. She was allowed to be free just as any man. It was just…

Well hell, just what?

He knew what he was thinking, didn’t like the gist of those thoughts either. Just then a cold rush of air filled the alehouse. The open door brought a smattering of snow, a blast of cold air as well as a man swaddled in a thick coat. A wry grin touched on Link’s face as he stood to greet Grayson, the manager of the Stewart plantation. The description he’d been given fit him to a tee, salt and pepper hair included.

“A drink before we brave the weather?” Link asked, extending his hand in greeting.

Grayson shook snow off his coat before shaking his hand, “No, we need to get going. There is a break in the clouds as well as the snow. Should make use of the time the weather is giving us. I thought perhaps you weren’t coming until I spoke to the captain who said you were the most enjoyable passenger he ever had. We should get going.”

“Very well, I’m sure you know what you’re about. Don’t need to get any colder.”

Link left money on the table to cover his drink. He looked at his coat, wishing he were in the south of France right now instead of Virginia then slipped his arms into the sleeves, buttoning it up to his neck. Sprawled on a chair watching the waves lap at a beach was his idea of heaven. Mayhap in time he would get used to the ice and snow. Perhaps in time the weather would change and the sun would come out.

Fact of the matter was the ship’s captain liked him simply because he did not sleep with his new wife, a young lady making her first voyage with her much older husband. She tried to seduce him in the companionway during a storm. What the woman didn’t know was that he would never cuckold a man. Evidently, the captain discovered what she was about. A solid rule of his was to never get into bed with a married woman; too many complications, way too many to make it a prudent venture. No, widows and adventurous women were the only ones for him.

They stepped outside. Grayson was right. The snow had stopped and the sun was shining down on them. Dark clouds lined up to the south threatening more of the same in an hour or so. He hoped an hour was enough time to reach Leslie Hall. He lifted his face to the sun with every intention of soaking up as much warmth as possible now that the sun was shining. Ah, but the manor was named after his brother the duke. Leslie Stewart. Until he was born it had just been a nameless place in Virginia. Their father believed naming the plantation after his first born to be a nice touch. Either that or they could have called it Southcliff the Second.

The wagon taking them sat in front of the tavern, piled high with supplies. “Well, I can’t tell you enough that I’m thanking God over and over again that you are here. We’ve had trouble but then I’m sure you read the letter I sent to the duke. I don’t know what to do about the black magic along with all the bizarre happenings. I’m afraid these nightly visits are escalating. Don’t mind telling you they scare the very daylights out of me as well as all our slaves and free people. As to the cold, the weather will improve. By May you’ll be praying for some snow before you succumb to the heat. It will also be so humid when you take a bath and try to dry off, you’ll still feel damp. Horrible weather.”

Link wasn’t sure he would still be here in May. At least he hoped he’d solve this little problem, take stock of Sophia Carter-Brown then be on his way home by May. Two months should be more than enough time to figure out all this duplicity. After all, he was a very astute man.

“You will see to the—”

Mr. Grayson’s voice broke off abruptly. He sucked in his breath. Link followed the line of sight and in turn saw a vision of his own. It was a woman…truly just a normal woman. He saw nothing special about her. Even from this distance, he realized who she was. Yes, he was certain this was the woman who dangled three men so skillfully. When she bade them dance, they most assuredly played right into her small adept hands. A woman should never be able to wield so much power over the male species.

Link grinned. He wondered what other delightful things she proposed they do. What would she propose with him? He sighed, too tired and cold from the weeks on board the ship to wonder about something he would discover soon enough. The intense cold was sapping his strength. He’d never experienced anything like it before in his life. He hoped Grayson’s prediction was correct and either he’d adjust or the weather would improve or he’d just sit next to the fireplace and drink hot toddies, while doing so gaze at the flames.

His attention went back to Grayson. The man was still staring at the woman, salivating at her, drooling by God, knowing she’d never be his because more powerful men coveted her. That was the kind of man it seemed she preferred. Men who owned plantations…that was an interesting thought. Perhaps, just possibly she was part of a plan to buy out other plantation owners. A monopoly of the tobacco plantations in the area would generate a fine profit. Would not be the first time a woman used her body for personal gain and greed. Even while thinking this, he understood a man was most assuredly behind the plan.

“Mr. Grayson, I’d like to go to Leslie Hall now. You can tell me all about the troubles you’re having on the way. Also, I’d like to hear everything you know about that lady you can’t tear your gaze from.” He nodded in the direction every male on the street was looking.

“Yes, yes Master Stewart, but that’s Sophia Carter-Brown, you know.” He pulled the hood of his coat over his head, hunkering down as if the snow was falling still. “Know enough about her. Known the young lady since she and her sister arrived penniless and without parents.”

“Ah,” said Link, his voice a blend of irony and curiosity. “Onward, Grayson. Pull your tongue back inside your mouth, if you please. We need to get myself and these supplies to warmth before the next storm hits and buries me in the white stuff.”

Bloody eyes but the day he arrived in Glasgow it was snowing like this, damn near lost his way when he tried to ride to Southcliff.

Samuel Grayson stuttered a few times, tried valiantly to remove his ardent focus without success. The woman in question was being helped down from her horse by a man and had just shown a glimpse of silk-covered ankle. To render men slavering idiots with an ankle caused Link to shake his head in wonder. Her ankles were no different than any other lady’s ankles. Over the course of his adult male life, he’d seen many ankles, legs, thighs and everything else feminine that at this exact freezing time he far preferred a roaring fire than seeing anything the woman had to offer. At least at this moment that’s what he preferred. Once he warmed up, he’d see things differently. Discovering her more feminine assets could wait.

“Back to the task at hand,” Link said growing impatient.

Grayson nodded his focus still on the so-called vision. “I don’t understand,” he said more to himself than to Link as he urged the two horses pulling the cart forward. “Look at her. Well, I know you did but you’re obviously not affected by her beauty. She is exquisite. One can understand why the men want her. What I can’t quite conceive is why she wants them.”

“She is a woman, Grayson, nothing more, nothing less. Just as a man she has needs. Seems she hasn’t found the right man yet. Can we go now?”

“It’s nearly an hour to the plantation. The road curves along the river. It is really quite beautiful. You will appreciate the scenery. Many of the largest farms have their own docks. The water is deep enough to handle most ships. You should enjoy the ride. The main house looks over the river. There is a small summer cottage close by. You might enjoy its solitary aspects. It also looks at the river and is very pleasant during the summer months when cool air can flow from the front door to the back.

Again, Link thought he wasn’t planning on being here in the summer. He would check out this cottage though. It might be a nice place to get to know Miss Sophia Carter-Brown better. If the cottage was secluded, he liked the idea even better. He began to formulate a few plans.

While they rode Grayson talked endlessly. He spoke of the weather then switched to the strange happenings, how even the slaves as well as the free-workers were terrified. The blue and yellow smoke unnerved him and everyone else. The foul odor reminded him of what hell must smell like. It wasn’t right. It had to be something supernatural to cause all this horror. The rattling sounding like bones was even more terrifying as were the moans and groans as if someone was dying.

He didn’t understand. No, he didn’t understand at all. No one wanted to go outside and investigate. Leastwise, no one but his son, Edward, who didn’t seem to be afraid of anything. Just last week there had been a fire set in a storage shed near the main house. Edward put it out, believed it was the work of men who were trying to scare him away. Things like that was one of the reasons why he sent for help. Two nights ago a tree nearly fell on the veranda roof. The tree had been very large and sturdy. There was no wind or anything that could have brought it down. Strange happenings just like this had been going on nearly a year now.

Link wondered when the lady took her first lover. Interested in the description of happenings that he was sure could be explained in earthly terms he continued to search for answers. “Did Edward find any saw marks on the tree?”

“No,” Mr. Grayson said, firmly shaking his head at the same time. “No, there was nothing to indicate any man had a hand in this. It’s the work of the supernatural. I tell you true. There is no reason for those things to happen. Even Edward had to acknowledge what I said. He didn’t want to but he couldn’t figure out how the tree fell.”

Grayson tugged in a deep breath, looking over his shoulder as if something was about to attack him. “One of the slaves said he saw smoke swirling around the tree, white smoke then it turned green and red. Soon as the smoke was gone, well, the tree fell.”

“Ah, so this also makes you believe this is the work of the supernatural. Personally, I don’t take much stock in witchcraft and the like. There will always be a scientific reason behind what takes place around man. All kinds of chemicals when mixed together can make colored smoke. It is a flesh and blood man who is causing this, nothing supernatural, no ghosts, no black magic or voodoo. All you need worry about is catching the men who are perpetrating the crime then figure out the motive behind it.”

“Don’t believe anyone around here has that kind of knowledge,” Grayson muttered. “Chemicals? Not a chance. Who here would know how to mix chemicals? Never heard of such a thing.”

Link wanted to laugh but carefully kept it behind his teeth. He didn’t want to antagonize this man or belittle him. No, he needed his help as well as Edward’s to ferret out what was going on here. He was a man well pleased. His boredom would not return anytime soon. He looked forward to the following weeks. There would be so much to keep him entertained. When he wasn’t fighting what appeared to be black magic, he would be deciphering Sophia Carter-Brown.

“Speaking of your son, tell me more about him. There was nothing in the letter speaking of his abilities or thoughts.”

Grayson puffed up, a grin flashing across his face. The man was clearly pleased with his son. A moment later he was fidgeting with his heavy gloves. “He is a good boy, Sir. He does a lot for me—for the Stewarts—now that I’m getting on in years. He didn’t want to leave the hall unprotected so he is waiting for us there.”

They passed dozens of small homes. Link wondered if these were the slave quarters or the quarters of those who’d earned their freedom. He yearned to set all of them free, but knew he couldn’t go that far. He didn’t understand why they were slaves in the first place even though he understood most cultures had slaves. Had been that way since the beginning of time. Didn’t know why the Stewarts bought them in the first place. He decided to write Leslie for more information and a suggestion of his own as well.

Well, hell, the fact didn’t make it right.

The countryside wasn’t all that different from the Scottish landscape where Southcliff Manor was situated. Virginia was different though. It was completely foreign to the Bordeaux region of France where he spent most of his life. Here, instead of miles of vineyards, one saw miles of tobacco plants. He wondered if he’d see wild animals; wolves perhaps, deer maybe a bear. Perhaps not, he had enough to contend with as it was without dealing with wild animals. He might see one of the Native Americans who owned this land first.

“We are nearing Mayfair Hall,” Grayson said suddenly, his voice falling to nearly a whisper.

Link raised a speculative eyebrow wondering about the significance even though he had a guess.

“It’s her home, Sir. Sophia Carter-Brown’s home. She lives there with her uncle and her younger sister. There is one plantation between Leslie Hall and Mayfair Hall. As I understand, her uncle is about to buy that place substantially adding to his holdings.

Link thought that fact to be very interesting. He wondered why the man was selling and if he was one of Sophia’s three lovers.

“Charles Ewing. Some say he wishes to move to New York. It’s north of here as I’m sure you know. Doesn’t make a lick of sense though. He always told me he loathes the city and would never want to live there. He has four older children who don’t work, just idle away their time. His wife is said to be a trying witch by some. It’s a sad story, a real sad story.”

Link was certain he heard the man’s name in the alehouse earlier this afternoon. He was wracking his brain to recall what was said about the man. He’d heard so much it was difficult to sift through all the information. What he was searching for would come to him.

Then he remembered. He spoke very slowly, “I understand this Sophia Carter-Brown has three men currently in her bed. I seem to recall that this Charles Ewing was one of them. Am I right?”

Grayson flushed to the roots of his graying hair. “You’ve only been here a short time. How would you know?”

“It’s what all the men were talking about at the alehouse when I first arrived. The topic was Sophia. As you know, I went in there for something to warm my insides as well as my outsides. If this older man was one of her lovers, why? Why would such a beautiful young woman want an old man in her bed?”

“No, no, none of what you heard said is true. She is beautiful inside as well as out. She has not taken lovers. I’m positive she is still a virgin, innocent in fact of the wicked ways of men. Rumors, idle rumors that’s all you heard. Never take any stock in rumors. There are many men who are not gentlemen. They don’t speak the truth about the young lady. She is exquisite. They want people to think she took them into her bed when she hasn’t. They want to preen, strut about and talk of their prowess while making Sophia their victim.”

“It is the rumors, is it not?”

“What you heard is a viscous lie. Don’t believe what you hear about Sophia. As I just said, she is sweet and innocent. She has no lovers. Don’t mistake me. Customs on plantations are different. Many of the white owners have black mistresses. That doesn’t have anything to do with Sophia. She is a lady.”

Grayson was sputtering now. He was in distress over the conversation and obviously believed the young harlot was guiltless.

“Do you bow down to the local customs, Grayson?”

“Not in the beginning. Not when my wife lived. I was loyal to her. After she died, I was lonely. Yes, I took a mistress. Life here is different from Scotland in many ways. In other ways, you’ll find it very much the same. You’ll get used to the idea of white men bedding their slaves.”

Link didn’t think there were some local customs he would ever grow accustomed to. He knew he wouldn’t be here long enough to do so. Nor would he be here long enough to make a difference. He couldn’t free all the slaves but he could try to find a way to free the ones at Leslie Hall.

Link subsided, letting his body relax and absorb the rolling, bouncing sway of the wagon. He closed his eyes a moment, breathing in the cold stinging air coupled with the smell of the nearby river. “Why is Ewing selling out then, in your opinion?”

“I really couldn’t say. Never truly thought it was any of my business. So, I never asked. Once again there are rumors. It was a sudden decision I was told. He and his family are leaving next week. I have heard he lost a lot of money to Devon Masters, a wastrel but lucky with the cards. You should not gamble with him. Some say he cheats, too, but it has never been proven.”

“Another rumor.”

“Yes.”

Link turned to face the man, his manager, a man he needed to trust. He needed information not gossip, “There is every bit as much talk here as there is in Scotland as well as Bordeaux. I don’t believe I’ll be the least bit uninterested. Perhaps we’ll have some mysterious manifestations tonight to welcome me. Yes, I would relish a ghoulish spectacle of any type. Perhaps we can catch whoever is scaring people witless. Isn’t this young Devon reputed to be one of her lovers?”

Link wondered if Grayson would denounce this rumor too. He opened his mouth then managed to keep his words behind his teeth. After a few moments of reflection Grayson said in a very calm manner. “I repeat, Link, all of this is utter nonsense. Her uncle, William Brinkmeyer, is a good man; solid, dependable. He is amiable, his business dealings above reproach. I imagine the vicious rumors about Sophia Carter-Brown hurt him very much. He never speaks of it because he is a gentleman of the finest type. His overseer, however, is a different story. Felix Campbell is a rotten fellow, cruel to the slaves.”

“If Uncle Brinkmeyer is such a fine fellow, why does he employ someone the opposite? Someone who is cruel to the less fortunate, a savage from what you say.”

“I don’t know. There are rumors about that too. Some believe the slaves need a stern hand or they won’t work. Brinkmeyer doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body, so the slaves would just idle away the hours if he didn’t have someone with an iron fist to run his plantation for him.”

“Yes, perhaps Brinkmeyer just feels pity for Ewing and is simply taking the plantation off his hands so the man can move on with his life. Brinkmeyer is the younger brother of Miss Sophia and Clare’s mother. Do I have that right?”

Link wasn’t sure what was going on here. There were too many holes in the facts, too much idle gossip. It seemed Grayson took a lot for granted. “What are the girls doing here?”

“Their parents were drowned when their ship went down about five years ago. The children were made wards of their uncle. They’ve been here ever since.”

“Are they English?”

“Scottish. They lived near Edinburgh, a small estate that will belong to the children when they come of age. Miss Sophia is close to that age now. When she has children, a boy, he will inherit.”

Link was silent going over everything that had been said as well as what had not been said. So, the girl had been raised in Scotland. Now she was here and she was a tart. His thinking turned back to the problem that brought him here to Virginia. Link strongly doubted the supernatural had anything to do with the problems occurring at Leslie Hall. Oh no, greed was the same all over the world. He said, “Did Mr. Ewing have any supernatural problems before he agreed to sell to this Brinkmeyer.

“Not that I know of. Oh, I see the direction of your thoughts, Link, but I don’t credit them. As I said, Mr. Brinkmeyer is an outstanding individual. He gives to charities and those less fortunate. He is always looking after others. No, if Ewing were having financial problems or if he were being besieged as we are at Leslie Hall, Brinkmeyer certainly would not be behind it.”

Link wondered if Grayson spoke as passionately about the Stewarts as he did Uncle Brinkmeyer. He’d never met a man who deserved such accolades. Well, he would soon discover the truth for himself.

Grayson turned the wagon inland away from the river. The cart lumbered up a long winding driveway before it stopped in front of Leslie Hall. It appeared much as Southcliff did. Link supposed their father had it built in the same style for good reason. He would feel at home here.

“My home is beyond the main house about a quarter mile and the cottage I spoke of is just at the top of that hill. The trees surround it except for the front and back. In the summer they provide a host of shade, cooling the building down to an enjoyable level as breezes from the river flow freely through open doors,” Grayson said.

Ah, but Link didn’t intend to still be in Virginia in the summer. However, he did intend to discover its uses while he was here.

~ * ~

It was nearly midnight. Link thoroughly enjoyed himself in the small cottage. The fireplace blazed with logs crackling. A cozy warm glow filled the room. He stretched out on a white fur rug in front of the hearth, a glass of Bordeaux in his hand. The storm threatening to the south still had not reached them. The crisp air outside had taken on a decided chill. When he strolled outside for more logs to place on the fireplace, the snow popped and crunched beneath his feet. The scent filling his nostrils was one of impending winter and ice.

There was a half-moon shining above. He felt relaxed, ready to take on whatever real or supernatural powers that threatened the lives of these people. The night was so beautiful, the black vault of the sky overhead with the spattering of stars, so calm so silent that he felt peace flow through him. This was just how God planned life.

He wasn’t a peaceful man. This newfound sensation of his was an odd feeling. He found that he didn’t dislike the peculiarity, meant to soak up the moments because he didn’t believe the serenity would last. Nothing peaceful ever did last. He stretched out naked on the fur wishing one of his widows from Bordeaux might have made the trip with him. Ah, Suzette, how he missed her. He did need to find a willing lady to see to his baser needs. He stretched again, relaxing even more, relishing the fur against his nakedness. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds he hadn’t heard before. The sound of an owl came to him then the soft sound of a breeze curling around the eaves of the cottage. He thought he heard the croak of a frog but dismissed the idea. Somewhere a dog barked. He sighed when each sound became more distinct.

It was just so damn tranquil here, perhaps because he had only one purpose. He didn’t have to please anyone, just ferret out the truth then go home. He was on the point of falling asleep when he heard something unusual.

The noise was too different to put a name on the sound, something he’d never before heard. Still lying on the fur, he held himself motionless while he waited. He listened hard. There it was again, that strange sort of low moaning sound that didn’t sound remotely human. Although he knew it was. This was why he’d been sent here. Well, he didn’t have to wait a day for the first confrontation.

He slipped on his pants and shirt then his boots, intending to discover the source of the sound. He forgot the air was frigidly cold. Forgot everything except his quest to discover the truth. The sound became louder the closer he got to the main house. He ran lightly up the snow-covered slope toward the back of the house. He eased around the side. The sound came again. A strange light welled up from the ground. It was a narrow, thready, light blue beam, and it smelled of sulfur as if it was coming directly from hell and the moans were of the souls entrapped there. Gooseflesh rose on his body. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. This was beyond strange, bordering on ridiculous. There was an explanation. This was just a mixture of chemicals concocted by a mere mortal.

He heard a hiss. As he whirled to see who it was, he picked up snow, molding it into a hard ball, pounding more snow onto it until it was large and very hard.

It was Edward Grayson. He met the man upon his arrival at Leslie Hall. He was the estate manager’s son.

Link grinned. He liked Edward. The young man had a good head on his shoulders, smart as well as possessing a great deal of common sense. Like Link he wasn’t the least bit superstitious although he didn’t once disagree with his father during dinner or their discussion later.

“What do you think it is?” Link asked in a deep whisper, shielding his mouth with his hand.

“Don’t know but I intend to find out now you’re here to help me. I’ve tried to get some of the male slaves, free men as well, but they roll their eyes and look at me as if I’m crazy. They mutter some nonsense in a different language. They won’t dare go outside in the middle of the night to investigate the smoke.”

“Very well,” Link said resigned to the fact he and Edward were in this together with no other help forthcoming. “Go around to the other side of the light and I’ll ease closer from this side.”

Edward disappeared into the shadows to work his way to the opposite side of the smoky blue light. A trap, Link thought, pleased. Blood pumped wildly through him, thrilled by the new excitement. He thought about the two women he bedded on the long trip here. They were both charming delightful ladies but much the same. He was tired of the same. He didn’t want to be bored here. This, now this was intriguing, exciting.

When Edward was in position, Link straightened, clenched one fist tight at his side, held the snowball in the other hand and walked directly toward the light. An unearthly shriek reverberated through the stillness then the moans followed. Gooseflesh rose again despite the fact he knew a man created the mournful rendition of a ghost. The noise was strangely eerie.

The blue light continued to rise higher into the black sky, the odor foul. Once more he reminded himself it was simply the igniting of sulfur, nothing more. Who was moaning? They were doing a blessed fine job.

Edward shouted while waving his hands in the air. He began to run following a flowing white robed figure. Ah, here we are. This is why I came to Virginia. The identity would be discovered this night. He realized he didn’t want to go home so soon. No, it wasn’t even May yet. Nor had he discovered Sophia Carter-Brown’s talents. No, not even if he solved this puzzle, he must remain to solve the second one.

The stealthy white figured turned then and fired at him. Link felt the bullet whiz by his temple. He touched his head. There was blood on his fingers.

“Bloody hell!” he yelled before racing straight toward the figure.

He meant to throttle this interloper. The man was tall and large, but Link could run fast and was gaining on him. Any moment he would have him. He slipped on a patch of ice, cursed, started forward again.

Without warning a shaft of pain seared his thigh. He stopped, staring down at the feathered arrow that was sticking out the side of his leg.

Damnation, the man was getting away. Edward, shouting at him was at his side in another moment. “Where the hell did that bloody arrow come from? The man had an accomplice, damn him!”

“It’s nothing, Edward. Go after him. We’ve got to find out who the devil is creating all this havoc where there is supposed to be only peace and quiet.”

“No,” Edward said calmly. “The men will come back. It seems they can’t stay away. Your leg needs to be tended to even though it is not much more than a flesh wound, no serious damage. I doubt if it’s going to stop you for long.”

With no more words Edward ripped a strip of his shirt then turning to Link he pulled the arrow from his leg and bound the wound. “We need to get you back to the main house. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged. You’ll walk with a slight limp for a while.”

~ * ~

He was careful not to hit her where the bruises could be seen. The first blow hit her ribs below her breasts. Her gasp made him pause then grin. The damage he inflicted would never be seen by anyone but him. He felt good when he hit her, when she crumpled to his bidding. She knew this was just the beginning. He relished hurting her. Sophia understood he wouldn’t stop until she lost consciousness from the pain. She closed her eyes as another blow hit her in the stomach. No bruises there.

He hit her ribs again in very nearly the same spot as the first blow. Her body jerked, the agony searing inside her as she tried not to give him more pleasure by crying out. If she could, she would hit him back. He hit her temple then jabbed her twice more in the ribs. She knew her hair would cover the bruising as long as it didn’t seep out to far onto her face. She cringed then sucked air, her hands trying to block each blow even though she understood the feeble gesture wouldn’t stop him. He wouldn’t end the relentless torment until he either grew tired or she blacked out.

Once again, he turned his attention to her ribcage, battering her until she was forced against the wall. She looked at him, pain excruciating, flaming though her body before she slowly slid to the floor. He wouldn’t stop though. He would find a way to prop her up so he had easy access. Confused, she wasn’t sure why she earned this beating, didn’t know what she did wrong or didn’t do. She wracked her brain for the cause. Couldn’t think of anything. True, she’d been in town yesterday. But…

He was so unpredictable.

He usually only attacked when he was displeased with something. When she did something he disliked. Searching her mind again for the reason, she couldn’t come up with any plausible motivation. He kicked her then, one more shot at her ribs. It wasn’t hard enough to crack a rib.

He was truly very careful. Nothing he did would show.

“Little slut, think you can get away with acting as if you’re not a slut? You aren’t a lady. Stop pretending to be one.” He stood over her, his feet braced on either side. Slowly he bent down, pulling her to a standing position. She blinked a few times in an attempt to clear her vision. One eye was swollen. She would have to use her makeup there. Still, she didn’t understand what he was talking about.

Desperately, she tried to keep the bile in her stomach. She didn’t want to lose it simply because she would have to clean it all up. Even if she spilled her lunch on his shoes, it would be fitting. He would only be angrier. Would hit her again.

“Why?”

Shaky as it was the sound of her voice surprised her. It was weak and pathetic, just the way he made her feel. She had no recourse except to obey him even though she longed to fight him. He threatened her daily with her sister’s life. Allowing her little sister to become what she was, well it was something she wasn’t going to allow.

“You didn’t tell me. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he was screaming at her now, shaking her until her head lolled back, until her ribs cried out more painfully than before.

She heard the soft moan come from her throat. Felt the bile start to rise in her throat. His scent of male sweat and whiskey was putrid to her. She turned her head in hopes of avoiding it.

She was standing now but only because he was holding her. She didn’t know if he was going to hit her again. What happened to her next probably depended on her reply, but she didn’t have any notion what he was talking about. She didn’t care either. As long as he didn’t take his anger out on Clare, she would do anything he wanted, say anything.

“Tell you what?” she managed to say just before he jerked her close. His foul breath wafted against her cheek. Revulsion nearly sent her to the ground again. This time truly she almost lost the contents of her stomach. His hand wound into her hair tugging her head back ripping at her scalp. She couldn’t even turn away from him.

“Don’t lie to me, girl. I don’t like it. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were in town yesterday. You saw him.”

Spittle was flying from his mouth, landing on her cheeks and lips. Once more she closed her eyes for a moment then another one, trying to soak in strength. No matter how she wanted to ignore him she couldn’t.

He would go away only when it pleased him.

She swallowed hard wishing she had the answer he craved. Her voice trembling, she finally asked, “Who?”

“Link Stewart. You must have passed him just outside the alehouse. I know you saw Devon yesterday. Grayson saw you. Link was in the wagon with him. I gave you permission. Devon took you to lunch then brought you home. I watched from the balcony. Didn’t he tell you Link was there? He would have noted a new arrival. Would have spoken of him.” He was pale now, his eyes narrowed with fury. “I should have been told.”

“I don’t even know who that is. Link Stewart?”

She was cringing again, hating her cowardice yet feeling rage boiling up inside her. It was stupid of her, this temper of hers, this habit of saying what she was thinking instead of using prudence. She was going to make matters worse, but she just couldn’t help herself. “I wanted him to be here, to catch you at your evil games. I prayed he would come, the voice of reason, a man who would see through the ridiculous. He wouldn’t believe any of that supernatural stuff. I knew if anyone could do it, he could stop you. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to see you suffer.”

She waited for the next shot to her face or ribs. It never came. Instead, she heard his laughter, saw his grin, his yellowed teeth behind his lips. For a moment she saw what others in this small community saw, a man with humor and wit, a gentle man, a man of breeding. In the next moment it was gone. He was back as she knew him to be. The once pleasant grin was evil now. “If Felix hadn’t shot him with the arrow, he might have discovered us. I didn’t expect any of what happened last night. Here was this fellow, running at me, yelling like a banshee, a snowball in his hand. Felix shot him.

“He was going to throw the damn snowball at me. He was packing it harder as he ran. I might have died. You would have liked that wouldn’t you?”

Sophia felt the blood drain from her face. She couldn’t fathom what he just told her. This wasn’t possible. No, he couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying. “You killed him? You killed the owner of Leslie Hall?”

“Oh, no more’s the pity. The arrow nicked his thigh. Didn’t do much damage. Felix is always careful. Strange, truly strange you know. Since the man was probably having a tryst in that little cottage on the hill. Which brings me to the next part of our plan. Stewart is going to be your next lover. I want you to be the woman having the tryst in that little cottage with him. No one else, you hear me? He’s a man with strong appetites. He’ll play right into your lovely harlot’s hands. That’s the only way I’ll be able to control the man. He has to fall madly in love with your sweet charms. He must be so in love he will overlook the fact that you are the town whore. You have to give him anything and everything he wants. Don’t deny the man anything.”

She said nothing more. Air forgot to find its way into her lungs for a moment upon another moment. She should have told her uncle she’d seen Stewart in town and perhaps he would not have been shot. It was her fault. Yet, it never occurred to her the man, the owner of Leslie Hall could be in any danger or that he was a threat of any kind to her uncle. That this man’s appearance in Virginia was the reason he was beating her. She’d been a fool and Mr. Stewart had been the one to pay for her mistake. She paid, too, but that was nothing new nor would it be the last time. She tried not to move knowing if she did the pain would increase. It hurt her to breathe, but she had to take in air. If only she didn’t.

Uncle William moved away from her. Walked around his desk to bring a chair so he could sit right in front of her, stare at her. “You’re not a fool. Stupidity doesn’t suit you,” he said finally after staring at her for what seemed an eternity. “How many times do I have to remind you of your sister’s predicament if you don’t do exactly as I say? Now, think, if I had been caught, what would happen to you as well as Clare? Hmmm… Doesn’t take a hell of a lot of imagination to come up with the unpleasant scenario. You won’t be the only whore in these parts, my dear. Since you, my sweet niece, are underage and I’m yours and Clare’s guardian, there will be no one to see to your future. No, miss, you won’t lie to me or try to do me in again or I swear to you…” he paused, rose and strode back to hover over her.

What would he swear to her? She had her guesses.

She shrank back against the wall terrified he’d start pounding her again. He sank down on his haunches, grabbing her chin, his fingers tightening as he jerked her head upward. She had no choice but to look at him, his eyes simmering with hatred for her. “I swear to you, Sophia, I will kill you if you try anything like this again. Do you understand me? Then what will happen to the little sister? Why, she’ll be just like you. Not sure what I’ll hold over her head though. I’ll have to think about it for a time. Perhaps I won’t kill you. Chain you somewhere.”

She said nothing, knew he saw the hatred glaring at him in her eyes. She also knew he saw the fear. Then his expression changed to a slow evil smile spreading across his face. “No, I don’t believe I’ll kill you. I’ll kill your sister instead even though she would garner me a lot of money in the future just as you are doing.”

He let go of her chin, standing so he would tower over her. “Tell me you understand, Sophia.”

Unable to help herself she nodded her head. “Yes,” she finally said, “I understand everything. It’s perfectly clear.” She understood she had to find some way to save her sister, to get her back to Scotland.

“Good.” He offered her his hand. She stared at it knowing the injustice he could met out so easily, remembering the feel of his fist as it hit her earlier. She felt helpless, but she wasn’t going to give him satisfaction by accepting any kind of help from this man she detested.

“You’re stubborn. That’s not entirely bad in a woman in your position. Means you’ll pursue this until I get what I want. You can hate me too. Doesn’t matter to me. I find your hate amusing, even invigorating at times. If you were my mistress, I would enjoy whipping that insolent look out of your eyes. The welts on your back would please me sufficiently to keep you alive just to whip you again. I would break you, Sophia. Ah, but I don’t want you broken, at least not yet. There will be time for that.” He stroked his chin, staring out the window. “Yes. The Duke of Southcliff finally reacted to Grayson’s messages. He sent his brother just as I intended. Now it is time to put my plan into action. I mean to have Leslie Hall by summer. You will help me.”

Despite her revulsion she understood her choices. There were none.

“Ah, yes, sweet Sophia since you’ve seen a number of naked men you won’t be disappointed with this one. He is extraordinarily built and pleasing to the eye. This man should not be too incredibly hard for you to seduce. After all, he is only a man. He will succumb just as easily as the others to your feminine wiles. This one is not a fool though. He won’t be quite so easily seduced as Devon or Charles. I will tell you in the morning what is expected of you. I’m quite looking forward to the inevitable outcome.”

At eight o’clock the following morning Sophia was trying to fasten the front buttons of her gown. Every movement hurt. She tried not to groan even though there was no one there to hear her. Tried not to let the moisture in the back of her throat move to her eyes. The flesh on her torso turned all sorts of blues, greens and yellows. He wouldn’t see her pain, but he knew she hurt. Uncle William expertly inflicted the intended punishment. She was truly trapped here where he controlled her every action, her entire life. As she slipped another button into its hole, she felt the pain so deeply she doubled over, her breath catching in her throat. She froze for a few moments, closing her eyes to let the pain ease from her.

There was nothing to do, however. No, she had to protect Clare, do what he wanted. For her there was no end in sight. She knew if she did what he wished, he would keep his promise. At least she hoped he would. There were no guarantees. Clare poked her head around the corner, a large smile on her face. “Don’t you want breakfast? It’s growing cold and you know how Uncle William is. You won’t get another bite until luncheon if you don’t come down soon.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she could eat anything.

A hot cup of tea would be nice though, maybe a little lemon and milk in it.

Clare sat down on the bed, her hands clasped in her lap watching. Her blue-gray eyes seemed to see into her mind. She didn’t want Clare to know how much pain she was in or why.

She finally finished dressing. She glanced in the mirror intending to brush her hair, knew she couldn’t. She looked pale and disheveled, about as seductive as a cow. Some harlot she was. If Link Stewart was a man of the world as he was reputed to be, there was nothing about her he would find attractive. There were dark circles under bloodshot eyes. Only the makeup Uncle William insisted she wear would hide the circles. Nothing would hide the redness of her eyes. She wasn’t sure she could put on enough makeup to hide the agony.

She finished, every move sending more ripples of pain through her body. She pulled back her auburn hair and tied it at the nape of her neck with a black ribbon. It would have to do. “Let’s go eat.”

“You don’t feel well do you, Sophia?”

It wasn’t’ a question. Sometimes Clare saw more than she should. Sophia wasn’t at all sure how long she could keep the truth from her little sister. Clare was growing more intuitive every day. Soon enough she would know what was happening. “All I need is a bit of breakfast to make me feel better. Yesterday was busy. I didn’t get a chance to eat. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be fine once I get some food into my stomach.” Sophia didn’t believe that nonsense and it seemed neither did her sister.

Clare looked at her, shaking her head, clearly not trusting a word coming from her mouth. No, her little sister didn’t appear reassured nor did she look as if she believed her. She took her hand in hers walking with her. “If there is something wrong, you’ll be sure to tell me. Promise?” Clare’s wide blue eyes stared trustingly into hers.

A wave of guilt coursed through her. It was a feeling she would have to ignore. “Promise.” Sophia loved Clare more than life itself. She vowed she would never let anything bad happen to her. Clare was the only person in the world who loved her. She would have to do everything he asked of her, perhaps more. She was terrified though. Sophia didn’t understand how she knew it, but she did know Link Stewart was not like the other men she seduced. Even her uncle saw the difference.

Uncle William was in the breakfast room. She hoped he’d be gone, a false hope she knew. He told her last night he would explain what he wanted from her in the morning. So, she knew he would be in the room sitting on his chair, waiting, needing to see first-hand the damage he inflicted. He waited here to torment her until they were alone again and he would tell her what he expected from her. She didn’t want anything to do with Link Stewart, having the sinking feeling she would lose if she went up against that man.

Thirteen months since she’d become a whore, a harlot, a piece of muslin any man could use. Well, not just any man, only the ones her uncle wanted something from. Thirteen long months since the women in the community shunned her, whispering behind her back. The rejection hurt her deeply yet she learned to ignore them when she was in town, learned to hold her chin high and look the other way. They didn’t shun her when they came to visit at Mayfair Hall. No, they admired her uncle too much to do that. So, they hid their dislike behind the fans they used to flirt with.

She looked fondly at her sister, hoping somehow she would fare better when she came of age. The sinking sensation Clare would not, had her ever more determined to find a way out of here for her sister. “Sit down and eat your breakfast.”

“I think I’ll just have a cup of tea.”

William looked up from his newspaper, the imported London Times only two months old, for English ships were regular in their arrivals. One could think they were keeping up with the current news from abroad. He seemed to study her face even as she lowered her lashes not wishing to see him.

“You and I will meet after you’ve eaten. You must eat, Sophia. Don’t want you to waste away to nothing. Your men friends won’t like it if you are skin and bones. Men don’t appreciate women who are too skinny. They want something to hold on to when they kiss when they think about marriage.” He cleared his throat, still studying her before changing the subject slightly. “There are things we need to discuss. I know you always wish to accommodate yourself to my wishes. Ah, do not take too much time eating. Plans need to be made and put into action.” He was rising, folding the paper to set it on the table before he moved to the other room, his office, where they would have the much-needed privacy.

Clare glanced between them, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. She was smart. The little girl knew something was going on, had been for quite some time. Sophia wished Clare would stay young and carefree a bit longer. She also wished their parents hadn’t died. She supposed none of her wishes would ever come true.

“Very well, Uncle,” Sophia said in a purposefully soft voice. “In your study then. After breakfast. I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes, my dear, that is exactly what I wish.”

He turned his attention to Clare. “As for you, my fine young lady, you will accompany me into town today. It seems you’ve outgrown all your clothing. Don’t want your ankles to show now, do we. We will get you an entire new wardrobe, one that will usher in the spring and the summer as well. Would you like that?”

The pleasure in Clare’s eyes made her ribs hurt.