Glory by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

hostess might have followed him—just to argue with him. But she hadn’t.
    He returned to the dining room, where River Montdale and Thad and Ben Henly were hungrily consuming their suppers. He joined them, this time helping himself to the bread and cheese and some homemade wine.
    “You looked around out back, boys?” he asked the men.
    Before the war the Henlys had made their living off the land, trapping and fishing. If he would trust anyone to know the woods, it was the two of them.
    Ben, a cocky and handsome dark-haired youth with dimples, grinned.
    “Colonel, this place is about as remote as you can get.”
    His cousin Thad, a little older, agreed. “We searched the barn, the stables, the smokehouse, servants’ quarters, everywhere. If this is a trap, it’s a damned good one.”
    “Still, we’ll keep guard—”
    “Keith, Daniel, and Corporal Lyle are patrolling the grounds. We’d figured we should spell each other in groups of three every two hours until morning, sir,” River Montdale told him. Montdale, twenty-three years old with dark eyes and long dark hair, was part Seminole, as good a man in the wild as the Henlys.
    “Sounds a good plan to me. I’ll take a turn at guard duty before dawn—”
    “Sir, the way I see it,” River protested, “we’ve got it covered. Liam keeps an eye on Paddy, and you get some sleep, because you’ve stayed awake too damned long and ridden too hard while trying to keep Paddy alive. And,” he said with a smile and a shrug, “you’re the ranking officer.”
    Julian grinned in return. “I am damned tired.”
    “And Paddy may need you in the night,” Ben said.
    “True,” Julian said. “But I doubt it. He’ll sleep well.”
    “Sir, if you’ll excuse us ...” Thad said.
    “Get some rest,” he told them.
    The three left him. When they were gone, a regally tall, slim black woman came into the room bearing a silver carafe and a wine glass. She appeared ageless, a handsome woman with deep, dark eyes, almond skin, and a mysterious smile.
    “You’re the colonel?” she said.
    He nodded, watching her. She was lithe, sinuous, completely at ease. Her face was a fascinating one, unlined yet filled with a character that usually came with age. She was very proud, and afraid of no man, he thought.
    “You’re Mammy Nor?”
    “I am, sir. Angus runs the grounds for Miz Rhiannon; I run the house. This is my special berry wine. I brought it out only for you. It’s potent, sir. Rich and potent. It will warm your blood. If you want your blood warmed.”
    “Well, you know, my blood has run very cold lately. I think I’d like your wine very much.”
    “Can you handle it, sir? You know, there are those who claim the mistress to be a witch.”
    “ Is she an evil witch?
    “Not evil.”
    “But a witch?”
    “Who’s to say? My folks hailed from down N’awleans way. They tell stories about voodoo priests and priestesses, good magic, bad magic. Then there’s the old way, the ancient white way, the folk who studied Wicca and the like. Earth people. The real magic is in the earth, you know, sir. The Indians know this, the African people have always known it. Mostly, these days the white men have lost all memory of everything that the earth can give. You’re a doctor. You should know. You don’t need to be a witch to make magic. The mistress can create magic.”
    “With her potions?” he inquired.
    “Lord, what the earth does give!” Mammy Nor exclaimed.
    “Good and bad. Did you poison the wine?” Julian inquired politely.
    She cast back her head and laughed. “Lord, no! Why, Colonel, if I was to kill a man, I’d put a bullet between his eyes.”
    “Indeed,” he said, smiling, certain that Mammy Nor would do so. “I believe you would.”
    “You know that the wine is not poisoned because I have said so?”
    “Yes,” he told her.
    “I like you,” Mammy Nor said, studying him seriously. “But so, since I like you, I warn you, you’ll sleep well. Or ... you