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They had reached the dock, and Melissa began tearing off hunks of bread and tossing them out to the ducks, who dove to catch them. Believing the pieces to be too large, Hunter t
ook the loaf from her hands and broke off a tiny bit. "The ducklings need smaller bites," he explained as he threw one out into the river.
"Yes, of course. How silly of me." Melissa let him keep the bread and, moving closer to the edge of the dock, pretended to look for fish. In another hour he'll be gone, she told herself. Surely she could convince everyone his visit had left her unchanged for that long. She sent a sidelong glance Hunter's way, and found him studying her with the knowing gaze she feared might haunt her for the rest of her days.
"Stop it!" she hissed.
"Stop what?"
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
He was caressing her body with a heated glance she could actually feel and, although she was fully clothed, he made her feel naked. A fresh blush filled her cheeks. "As though I were some delicious morsel you couldn't wait to eat."
Hunter licked his lips, and it was a far more suggestive gesture than she had ever shown him. Mortified by such blatant disrespect, a painful lump formed in her throat. Clearly the Indian cared nothing for her feelings, and why would he, when she had behaved like a wanton? She turned her back on him and bit her lip to force away the monsoon of tears that threatened to drown her in remorse. Her life was ruined, and the man who had caused her disgrace was laughing at her! Could there be any worse punishment?
Wondering what had become of the enchanting belle he had admired, Hunter tossed the last of the bread to the ducks and then walked up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. She was wearing a floral scent that teased his senses, and he regretted having to leave her. Believing his departure was troubling her, too, he offered the only reassurance he could.
"I'll come back as soon as I'm able. Think of that day rather than this, and don't be sad."
Responding to his affectionate hug without thinking, Melissa placed her hands over his, but she would anticipate his return with dread rather than longing. She closed her eyes, and surrounded by his warmth, wished he were any man other than the one he was. If only he were a British officer, or a planter's son, or a frontiersman with a European heritage. If only he had been someone she could have been proud to love, rather than a seductive savage whom she ought to have avoided with Alanna's zeal.
"Melissa?"
His hushed whisper increased her shame, for he ought not to have ever addressed her in terms less formal than Miss Barclay. She pushed away his hands and turned to the side where she had ample room to escape him. "Please, the others will be here soon, and we dare not arouse their suspicions."
"Is that all you want to say to me?"
His sullen frown inspired the words she knew he wanted to hear. "No. I'd like to talk with you all day, to learn about your home and family since you know all about mine, but there's no time." Praying someone would be approaching, she looked toward the house, and to her immense relief, she saw Elliott crossing the lawn. "Look, Elliott's ready to go."
"I'm not."
"Then you'll have to get ready!"
Hunter shook his head, but remained silent rather than increase her agitation. He reminded himself that making love was new to her, and her shyness around him was understandable. He crossed to the bateau and knelt to rearrange the gear it already held, to make room for his own.
"Mother's looking for you," Elliott called out to Melissa.
"Why?" Melissa rushed to him, and then, catching herself, stepped back.
For an instant she had looked terrified, but just as quickly her expression reflected mere puzzlement rather than fright, leaving Elliott unsure of what he had really seen. "I'm sure nothing's wrong," he told her. "Maybe she has presents she wants you to give us."
Seizing control of her emotions, Melissa responded with a saucy smile. "I think we'll save the presents for your return."
Seeing her parents crossing the lawn, followed by Byron and Alanna, Melissa continued to play the carefree young woman they would all expect to see. Her voice was tinged with the proper regret at her brothers' departure, but otherwise her mood appeared to be as sunny as the spring day. After ascertaining that her mother had merely wanted her to come to the dock to wish her brothers farewell, she stood between her parents and added her own best wishes for a safe journey.
When it came time to leave, Hunter thanked the Barclays for their hospitality, then bid Melissa and Alanna a polite goodbye. He did not linger as though he expected the same show of affection they gave Byron and Elliott, but promptly turned away and joined the two young men in the bateau. He did not glance back as they shoved the boat away from the dock and began to row, but he hoped if Melissa's eyes were brightened by tears, they were for him. After the passion they had shared, she had been strangely shy that morning, but his hopes for a joyous welcome upon his return overshadowed his concern.
John and Rachel waved until their sons' boat was well out into the river, before going back to the house. Melissa and Alanna, however, waited on the dock until the bateau had rounded the bend and was no longer in view. With the unabashed glee of a condemned man who's just won a pardon, Melissa drew in her first deep breath of the morning. Hunter was gone, and no one suspected a thing. She was so relieved, she might have leapt into the air with a jubilant shout had Alanna not been there to watch and wonder why.
"It's always fun to have them home, isn't it?" Melissa enthused. "We really ought to have more parties like the one we hosted last night. There's no reason to wait for Byron and Elliott to entertain, when I like having company so much, and I think you're finally beginning to enjoy it as well." She looped her arm through Alanna's, but rather than match her stride, Alanna hung back, pulling her to a clumsy halt.
"Last night you wept yourself into a deplorable state over your brothers' safety," Alanna reminded her. "Yet you just bid them goodbye as though they weren't going any farther than Newport News, and now you want to talk about parties?"
Alanna had made a point of observing the Indian that morning, but she hadn't seen anything untoward from him or Melissa! Perhaps her fears had made her overly cautious around him, but that didn't explain Melissa's constantly shifting emotions. She still felt something was wrong, but with Melissa's stubborn reluctance to confide in her, she doubted she would ever learn what it was.
An adept conversationalist, Melissa hastened to distract her cousin from pursuing such insulting questions. "After you fell asleep, I realized you were absolutely right. Byron and Elliott are capable men, who can handle whatever dangers they encounter. So I ceased to worry." She flashed a beguiling smile, and continued as though she had not been interrupted.
