He stopped walking, for he remembered the way she’d kept scrubbing at her lips, the way she’d demanded a bath when she’d returned. What was she being blackmailed about? What could someone hold over her that was causing her to do what she was doing?
He slowed his steps as he neared the camp. As bodyguards, Sam and Frank seemed to be nearly worthless. And, unfortunately, he hadn’t been much better. He had been so blinded by the sound of her voice that he’d completely forgotten about any possible blackmail plot, had lost all sense of danger.
As he saw the camp before him, his first impulse was to charge into her tent and demand that she tell him what was going on. And what was he going to use to force her to tell him? Physical violence? If at times he was less than brilliant, she didn’t seem to be. From the first she’d never believed he’d harm her. She’d never been afraid of him in the least. And she was right, for he would never in his life hurt a woman.
So, how was he going to make her trust him enough to tell him? As soon as he thought it, he knew that the key word was trust. She had to trust him.
He saw Edith coming out of the tent. “She finish her bath?”
“Yeah, and my back is finished from carryin’ the buckets.”
’Ring fished a gold piece out of his pocket and gave it to her. “You give her anything she wants.”
“I’ll give you anything you want,” Edith purred.
’Ring ignored her and strode into the tent.
“Captain Montgomery!” Maddie snapped. “How dare you—”
“I came for the port you offered me. That is, if you and the man who was in here earlier haven’t drunk it all.”
“I’d never serve him port.” She clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Oh? What do you serve him, then?”
Maddie looked away. “I have no idea what you mean. Now, Captain, I’m tired and I’d like to go to bed.”
He flicked open the little stool and sat on it. “Go ahead, but I’m going to have some port.” He smiled at her. “Wouldn’t you like to have something to drink? It might calm you down.”
“I’m perfectly calm. I’m always like this after a performance.”
“Is that so? Sure it wasn’t the man’s kisses that did this?”
Maddie looked away from him and began to tremble at the memory of that odious man touching her. Never in her life had she had to put up with anyone touching her if she didn’t want to be touched. Since she was a child she’d known she was different, special even, and she’d treated herself with respect. When she was twenty, there had been a quick tumble on a couch with a French count, but she’d found the encounter so unpleasant she’d never repeated the experience. Men had been content to hear her sing; she’d not had to give more.
But tonight…oh, God, tonight he’d touched her. He might have done more except for Edith bursting into the tent.
Now, as a strong arm went around her shoulders, she panicked and began to fight.
“Shhh, it’s just me,” ’Ring said. “You’re safe now. You have the greatest voice in the world, a God-given voice, and I’ve never had so much pleasure as I had hearing you tonight. What was that song you sang about the lady going mad?”
“Tui la voce sua soave,” she said against his chest.
“It was the most beautiful…?” he said, purposely mistranslating.
“No. ‘It was here in sweetest accents.’ ”
“Ah, yes. That was my favorite.”
She smiled up at him. “Favorite so far. You haven’t heard much.”
“Oh, but I have. I’ve heard Adelina Patti sing.”
“What!” She pushed away from him. “Patti? That scarecrow? Her F sharps are a disaster. She shouldn’t be allowed out of the chorus.”
“She sounded good to me.”