Free Border Bride by Arnette Lamb Page B

fateful day. She had put her childhood behind her. Rather than swimming in her favorite pool of rainwater, she began devising ways to divert it to irrigate the thirsty fields of sugarcane. Instead of playing hoodman blind with the slave children, she spent her time formulating a plan to set them free.
    She became a practical woman, interested only in the basics of life: a roof over her head, enough land to support herself, and peace of mind.
    Malcolm Kerr had taken all three. With the stroke of a quill he'd taken her home and her livelihood. With one kiss he'd stolen her self-respect.
    Lifting a shaking hand, she touched her lips and remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, melting her resolve and inciting a desire that lingered even now. She could put an end to her torment. She could knock on his door at midnight, lie in his arms, and discover the mysteries his kisses foretold. But from observation, she knew where a tender liaison would lead: she might gain the means to fulfill her dream of returning to Paradise and freeing the slaves, but in doing so she ran the risk of enslaving her heart to a man who wouldn't value it.
    Her strong will rebelled against such sentimentality. She had work to do, plans to make. She'd gotten in over her head and suffered a momentary setback. He'd pulled a dirty trick on her. Bravo for him. He'd obviously forgotten that Alpin MacKay was an expert trickster. In her own way she would refresh his memory.
    Casting off self-doubt, she scooped up the laundry and took it to the washing shed. Then she went to the kitchen to oversee the preparation of the evening meal.
    Alone in the cavernous room, Elanna sat at the oak table, peeling a mountain of turnips. Her eyes, as dark as molasses, surveyed Alpin. "Trouble be coming with you through that door."
    Thinking Malcolm had followed her, Alpin flinched and glanced over her shoulder. Except for an industrious spider, expanding an already impressive web, the doorway was empty. "If I were you"—Alpin reached for the broom and destroyed the web—"I'd leave off playing the sage, at least while we're here. These country folks might stone you for a witch."
    Elanna held up her hands as if warding off a foe. "Big bad Scotsman put mighty fright in poor slave girl's heart."
    Alpin laughed and set the broom aside. "You can also put away your Bajan. You speak perfectly good English when it suits you. And you're free."
    "Because of you." Elanna patted the table, her dark skin blending perfectly with the aged wood, her gaily flowered dress adding cheer to the ancient room. "Sit. Tell me what happened to put such fire in your eyes."
    Alpin lifted her skirt and stepped over the bench. "You were right about me finding trouble." She picked up a turnip peel and coiled it around her finger. Then she told her friend about the seduction of Malcolm.
    "Why worry? You said he always kissed you, even when he was a lad."
    "This was a different kind of kiss."
    "Betcha that. You don't look like you've been romanced by any boy."
    Alpin dropped the peel and again touched her lips. Even the tangy flavor of the turnip couldn't obliterate the warm taste of him. "Now he wants me to be his mistress."
    Elanna picked up the knife and stabbed at a turnip. "He's supposed to want to say 'I do, I do' first."
    Admitting defeat dulled Alpin's senses and sapped the strength she'd garnered. "I must keep a level head where he's concerned. The scoundrel insisted I share his bed or return to the house of my uncle, Baron Sinclair."
    "Ecky-beckie man!"
    She referred to the freedmen turned poor white trash in Bridgetown. "Lord Malcolm is hardly a drunken beggar," Alpin replied.
    Using the knife, Elanna scratched an itch just beneath her turban. Glancing left and right, she whispered, "He did some kind of begging to get poor Master Charles to give him your Paradise."
    The old injustice rose like a sour tide in Alpin. Paradise Plantation rightfully belonged to her. Making a fist, she pounded the table. "I