“And I was out there,” Marelda stated, pushing her way through the gathering.

“Marelda, tell them I didn’t have anything to do with this,” Horace pleaded.

“He a friend of yours, ma’am?” the lawman questioned.

“Yes,” Marelda replied slowly, wondering what trouble she might be letting herself in for.

“Well, that’s probably why you didn’t get robbed, ma’am. Mr. Titch likely told the brigands not to hurt any of his friends.”

“This whole thing is ridiculous!” Horace declared in outrage.

“That’s what I thought, too, when Mr. Wingate asked me to watch over his steamer, just in case someone tried anything. You can imagine my surprise when me and my men started seeing them thieves poppin’ out of hidin’ and then flittin’ across the dock to come on board. Looked like they planned it real good, except Mr. Wingate had a better plan.”

“Has any of the guests been hurt?” Ashton asked in concern.

“Just a mite shaken, that’s all,” the lawman replied. He jerked his head toward Titch again. “I’m going to put this one behind bars and then ask him some important questions.”

“Someone make him listen to me!” Horace pleaded as he held out his arms in desperate supplication. “I didn’t take anything! I tell you, the thieves put that necklace into my pocket to make it seem like I did.”

“That’s fine and dandy, Mr. Titch, but one of them brigands also said you were one of them. He met with you here on board, and you paid him to do it.”

Horace searched about for an answer. “I don’t know who he was. I just met him in the tavern, and he asked to speak with me while I was here on the riverboat.”

“What reason did he have?”

“None.” Horace shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, he didn’t give any. He just robbed me.”

“Well, if he did, you came out better for it with that there necklace in your pocket…at least, you would have, had you not been caught.”

Chapter Sixteen

“LIER…IN. Lier…in.”

Lenore frowned in her sleep and rolled her head on the pillow.

“Where are you? Lierin? Lierin? Come out. Come out, wherever you are….”

She was hiding behind a carefully clipped shrub partially shaded by the manor looming in the background. A young red-haired girl crouched beside her, and they hid their giggles behind cupped hands as the stalking footsteps came closer…closer….

“Lierin…Lenore…Come out…Come out…Wherever you are…”

“Shhh,” she warned her sister silently as that one threatened to burst into laughter and reveal their hiding place. “He’ll hear you and find us both.”

The tiny pebbles of the walk crunched beneath the hesitating footfalls that came ever nearer. Seeing a large manly shadow fall on the lawn nearby, they pressed against the shrub and waited, scarcely daring to breathe as the shadow advanced with slow, stealthy caution. It disappeared by degrees, falling onto the shrub that protected them as the man stepped closer; then quite unexpectedly a bee flitted past their noses, startling them both, and they scrambled away with cries of alarm.

“Aha!” The man’s voice rang with a note of victory as he leaped past the shrub and pounced into view.

Torn from her dream, Lenore came upright with a gasp and stared about the dark room in wide-eyed panic. The face in the portrait! It was the one in her dream!

“Lierin…Lierin…”

A sudden chill shivered along her spine as she pressed back upon the pillows, trying to listen above the frantic beating of her heart. Had the voice come from her dreams to torment her?

“Lierin…Lierin…”

“Ashton!” The name flared through her brain as she realized that what she had heard was not part of any fantasy. It was Ashton! She threw herself from the bed and, flinging open the french doors, ran out onto the veranda. Reaching the balustrade, she searched frantically for the one she was sure was there. But where? Her eyes swept outward, anxiously skimming over the grounds and sweeping the shoreline; then a sound close by made her look down. There, right below her, the tall figure leaned against a post of the lower porch.

“Ashton!” she whispered as loud as she dared. “What are you doing down there?”

“Ah, my Lady Lierin! My queen!” he called up and, stumbling away from the house, swept her a gallant bow. “I have finally beckoned you from your chambers. My soul despaired at my lengthy failure, but now it doth quiver at the sound of your voice.”

“Go home, Ashton,” she beseeched him plaintively. She was afraid of what Malcolm would do if he caught him. “Go back to your tent, and go to bed.”

“Nay, my lady.” He shook his head and staggered unsteadily as he moved farther away from the house. “Not without your soft, sweet breast to lay my head upon.”

“Malcolm is here!” she reminded him frantically.

“I know! ’Tis what torments me! I have maneuvered my knights as best I can, but he’s still there, holding my queen.”

“Malcolm will hear you! Please go away,” she implored. “He’ll kill you if he finds you here!”

Ashton reflected upon her statement a moment and leaned his head back with a chuckle. “He’s welcome to try, my lady.”

“He will! And you’re in no condition to defend yourself,” she chided.

“Ah, madam, I’m not concerned with defending myself. ’Tis you I’ve come to protect. I lay my sword at your feet, offering my services…my arm for your protection…and whatever portion of me you may have need of.” He lurched forward a step. “I shall defeat the arrant foe who has captured you, and then I shall take you to yonder castle.” Sweeping an arm about, he indicated the huge tent that had become his home. “Lo! It sits there awaiting your presence, my lady.”

“I can’t go with you!” she cried in a whisper. “Now go back…please….”

“I shall not leave without my lady,” he firmly declared, striking a stance of stubborn resolution for a brief second before he stumbled and fell spinning to his knees. There he collapsed like a limp rag doll with his long legs tucked beneath him and his hands braced upon the turf. Hanging his head between his shoulders, he moaned, “Lierin…Lierin…Come down to me.”

The agonized plea wrenched her heart, and she felt a rush of tears at the misery she heard in his tone. Anxiety was there, too, filling her with dread as she hurried to the stairs, but her love beckoned. Her bare feet flew down the stairs, and ignoring the last step, she leaped to the lower level and raced out onto the front lawn. There, she paused in some confusion, for he was gone. Vanished! She glanced about, her eyes searching the moonlit yard for the manly form she knew only too well.

“Ashton?” she called in a whisper. Cautiously she moved toward a small grouping of trees on the east side. “Ashton, where are you?”

Suddenly she gasped as she was seized from behind, and an arm, slipping about her waist, swirled her around. Another gasp was startled from her as she was lifted from her feet and brought firmly against a long, hard body. Eager lips covered hers, and she was engulfed in the intoxicating essence of brandy. The kiss went through her, flicking awake her senses and making her stirringly aware of his manhood as her thighs slid against his.

“Ashton, behave,” she pleaded breathlessly as his mouth sank to her throat. She closed her eyes and rolled her head away, trying to escape those burning kisses that branded her. Her world tilted crazily in a spinning orbit as his mouth dipped down and caressed her breast through her gown. She shivered as the moistness seeped through the light cloth, and the glowing coals of desire began to spill like a lava flow through her body. His hand was on her buttock, clasping her close, and at the bold, manly touch of him, a hunger grew in the softness of her.

“I want you, Lierin,” he rasped in a whisper. “I can’t go back without you.”

The realization seeped down in her that the longer she resisted going back to his tent with him, the better his chances were of being shot. Get him back and leave him where he would be safe, she thought.

“Ashton, I’ll go back with you,” she whispered unsteadily as his lips moved to the opening of her gown. “Just put me down, and I’ll take you back.”

“I’ll carry you.” Setting her to her feet, he swept an arm down to lift her up again, but she laughed and placed a hand on his chest, halting him.

“We’ll both go rolling if you do.” Her fingers traced along his cheek as she gently chided, “You’re too drunk, my darling.”

“I’ve had a few,” he admitted with a slightly injured air.

“A few!” With a soft chuckle she slid her hand down along the lithe muscles of his arm and settled it upon the waiting palm. The long, thin fingers entwined with hers in a loving grasp as she whispered, “You’ve had more than a few, my darling.” She gently tugged at his arm, and they staggered side by side across the moonlit yard. He was wont to stop often and pull her into his embrace, but she urged him on with a sweet promise, “In the tent, my darling.”

Reaching their destination, Ashton swept back the tent flap, allowing her to enter first. With eyes that were wide in amazement, Lenore roamed around. She had not expected such grandiose appointments and was rather awestruck. Several lamps illumined the interior, lighting her way around the furnishings and over the rich carpets. The gold silk hangings of the bed shimmered against the glow of the bedside lamp, and it was to this resting place she came to stand and stare. It was difficult to take in all the wealth at once.

Ashton watched her from beneath his brows with that sort of manly-boyish hesitation that was so much a part of his charm. How could she deny him anything when he looked at her like that? But she must…for his own good.

“I love you,” she whispered with a tender smile, “and I’ll stay for a while, but I need more time to clear my thoughts.”