Free Rapture in His Arms by Lynette Vinet Page A

Dorcas.
    “Nay, nay, he refuses.”
    “I don’t blame him. All doctors are quacks,” asserted Tyler.
    “I’ve tried to keep him calm,” Jillian admitted. “Whenever he gets upset, his temperature rises and I fear a spell shall overcome him. With this unpleasant talk about Indians and Mr. Nathaniel Bacon, Edwin becomes overheated on the issue. So, I try not to speak to him about Mr. Bacon, whom he believes is a rabble-rouser and more upset with Governor Berkeley over the loss of his beaver trade than the Indian attacks.”
    “Aye, Edwin is right,” Tyler replied knowingly, as if he personally had the governor’s ear on the subject. “I spoke to Governor Berkeley’s aide just last week. Bacon is jealous that the governor favors his friends. Though the people clamor for a leader against the Indians, Berkeley doesn’t feel Bacon is qualified to lead a militia and the governor fears an uprising of the colony. Many people are eager to oust Berkeley.”
    Jillian hadn’t heard about the possibility that the colony might oust Berkeley, who was a close friend of Edwin’s. “Please don’t tell Edwin anything about this distressing news,” she begged.
    Benjamin toddled into the room just then and grabbed Jillian’s hand. “Come see the ship on the river, Auntie Jillian. You, too, Mama.” He took his mother’s proffered hand, and the two women, with the child between them, walked onto the porch to join Edwin. Tyler, however, was slow to follow. He watched the happy group from the window where he could openly feast upon Jillian’s beauty without being blatantly obvious. God, but he wanted that woman! He’d wanted her for years, and had it not been for Jillian’s marrying Edwin Cameron, Tyler felt certain that she’d be his wife right now and not Dorcas. He’d only married Dorcas because she and Jillian had always been friends, and he thought to keep Jillian in his life because of the closeness between them.
    For a long time now, Tyler had lived in the hope that Edwin would sicken and die. Then Jillian would be a widow, a wealthy widow, because Cameron’s Hundred would belong solely to her, now that Jacob Cameron had died. From where he stood, Tyler thoroughly examined Edwin. Truly, Edwin looked unwell. Never had Tyler seen the man so thin, his complexion so pale and pasty. Tyler wondered what disease was responsible for Edwin’s wasting away. From the look of the man, he didn’t have much time left.
    And then Jillian would be free. Tyler greedily rubbed his hands together. Cameron’s Hundred, something which he’d coveted for years and offered to buy from Edwin and been refused on more than one occasion, would pass to Jillian. Finally Tyler would have the woman and the plantation, he’d make certain of that. Just one person barred his way to happiness—Dorcas, his wife.
    “Miserable bitch,” he mouthed lowly, detesting the very sight of her. He’d married her hoping that something of Jillian would be in her since the two women were such good friends. But he’d soon discovered that Dorcas and Jillian were nothing alike. Granted, Jillian was serious and moralistic, but she was incredibly beautiful. Dorcas was plain, too serious, and too much of a moralist for his taste. If she’d been even pretty, maybe he’d have gotten another child by her. As it was, Benjamin was their only child and likely to remain so. He no longer sought out his wife for sexual favors—she’d hated his lovemaking from the very start and he’d hated touching her. But he was a lusty man and not about to be denied sex. Each night a comely slave girl came to him, and she liked his prowess in bed. He wondered if Jillian would.
    “Easy, easy,” he advised himself. “Mustn’t get too far ahead of the game.” The only way for Jillian to come to his bed was to make her his wife. But how? Dorcas, for all her plainness and lack of spirit, was in perfect health. Illness was out of the question, so the only way to be well rid of her