Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) by Phoebe Conn Read Free Book Online Page A

militia was mentioned frequently in whatever letters Byron and Elliott sent home. Because they were already convinced of his ability as a scout, he thought he could inspire them to praise his talents in their letters. He would never be one of John Barclay's men, however, because his first loyalty would always be to the Seneca.
    "Do you consider Jacob loyal?" the Indian inquired.
    "Our blacksmith? Yes, he's been with us for years and years. His wife is our cook and their daughters help her in the kitchen. Their son works with the cooper. We have several whole families working for us. The cooper's wife is the laundress, as an example. The household staff all belong to one family. Only the field hands are single men."
    Hunter nodded thoughtfully, for it was becoming increasingly easy to imagine himself spending a great deal of time at the Barclay plantation. A young woman as affectionate as Melissa would prompt lengthy stays, but he knew she was far too pampered a lady to find happiness visiting a Seneca village. No, if they were to fall in love, then he would have to become part of her world, as she would never be comfortable in his.
    While that was a daunting thought, he liked the company of white men, and did not think living amongst them would create any great hardship for him. Besides, he could return home as often as he chose. To continue to come and go as he pleased was precisely how he intended to live his life, and he was certain he could keep Melissa too content to complain about his habits.
    "Does Ian Scott intend to marry your sister?" he asked suddenly.
    Because that question bore no relation to the subject Elliott had believed was under discussion, he was understandably perplexed, but recovered quickly. "He might. I really can't say. Melissa has always been popular and I don't believe she is any more fond of Ian than she is of her other beaus."
    "There are other men interested in her?"
    "Of course," Elliott insisted with a hearty chuckle. "Young women as pretty as Melissa are always eagerly sought after."
    Not wanting Elliott to discover he had a serious interest in Melissa just yet, Hunter deliberately pretended his curiosity about the comely blonde had been satisfied. "What about Alanna? Is she too shy to have beaus?"
    "I spend a great deal of my time worrying about her," Elliott confided unhappily. "She's so dear to us, but perhaps we've sheltered her more than we should. When she first came to us, she was so easily frightened, that I'm afraid we spoiled her terribly. She isn't demanding now, of course, but still, if we'd done more to encourage her to be as independent as Melissa, she might not be as shy as she is today."
    Hunter cleverly turned their discussion to the subject of the Ohio Valley, but he remained preoccupied with how best to impress Melissa so that she would be anxiously awaiting his return. When she displayed an annoying indifference to him at supper, he was not only dismayed, but disgusted. He could readily understand her reluctance to openly display her feelings for him, but thought ignoring him completely was a poor way to behave. He held that sorry opinion until they left the dining room to go across the hall into the parlor, and she brushed by him to slip a tightly folded message into his hand.
    Believing it to be a fervent plea for a meeting later, Hunter's spirits soared. Then he had to bear an agonizing wait as Rachel and Melissa treated them all to another harpsichord recital. It wasn't until everyone retired to bed that he finally had a chance to read the note. He was ashamed not to have thought of a way to get a similar message to Melissa, but as soon as the house was quiet, he went down to the dock where she had suggested they meet.
    By the time she finally appeared, Hunter was thoroughly sick of waiting for her. "Did you think I would stand here all night?" he scolded, but when he drew her into his arms and discovered she was wearing only a light shawl over a cotton nightgown, his