Her heartbeat pounded in her human chest when she dreamed of him. Her body softened when she remembered his taste, his smell, and the feel of his naked chest as he rose over her.
Why had Mistress Cumberland interrupted them? Her body had made ready for his, welcoming him. Frustration filled her nights since he kissed her cheek and returned to Sullivan Island.
Now? He’d left Fort Moultrie for places unknown.
Maggie muttered something.
Dru refilled the pitchers, then tossed pieces of Maggie’s fried chicken on a platter. The aroma made Dru’s stomach growl. “Maggie, speak up. I cannot offer my opinion if I do not know the question.”
“I am complaining, that be all. I would rather be abed. My head aches and I feel the cold, today.”
Dru smiled. The weather had turned blustery, but warmer than the winters she spent in Scotland. “Why not take to yer bed? I can handle the few men who have not the sense to keep to their homes this day.”
“Ah, you are a lovely lass. What would Mistress Cumberland say?”
“She’s off to church then to her daughter’s home for dinner.”
Maggie removed a large tray of biscuits from the oven, then wiped her hands on her apron. She sighed as she kissed Dru on the cheek, then trudged up the back stairs. The peck on the cheek, so similar to Shaw’s kiss, did not ignite her senses the way they sparked to life when Shaw drew near.
Dru hefted the pitcher of cider, foregoing the ale. Men had no need to get in their cups tonight. Cradling a basket filled with Maggie’s biscuits, she pushed through the door separating the hot kitchen from the much cooler dining hall.
As she walked among the tables, a half a dozen men nodded. She filled their tankards and offered biscuits. Her heightened dragon hearing caught their conversation . The tone sounded tinged with anger, while some chuckled.
“Aye, they turned tail and ran,” one man said.
“The fort is burning. Nobody’s home, I hear.”
“Are you talking ‘bout the soldiers from Fort Moultrie?” Dru asked, biting her bottom lip for her impertinence.
“We are, woman. The soldier boys are cowards.” Laughter filled the dining hall.
Dru forced a smile, though inside she worried about Shaw. The fort was aflame? Where was he?
“Where have they gone, do ye suppose?” she asked, pouring more cider to delay her return to the kitchen. She would rather take flight, follow Shaw’s scent, and carry him to safety. Maybe, all the way back to Scotland.
“I have no idea,” one man said, before downing his cider.
“I know.”
All heads turned toward a spry old fisherman who had settled by the front window. Dru recognized him as the kind man who’d delivered Shaw’s gift. He sat alone with a cup of tea.
“What do you know, Joseph?” A large dockworker stood and tossed the man a hot biscuit. Joseph caught it on the fly without moving more than one arm.
“I’ve me sources, boys.” Joseph smiled.
Dru walked over to his table and poured him a tankard of cider. She would not return to the kitchen, even to reheat his tea, until she heard what he knew about the soldiers.
“They moved camp, ‘tis all.”
“Moved where?” asked another patron. Everyone went quiet, as if Joseph was a storyteller, guiding the story to its mysterious conclusion.
“Fort Sumter, in the bay.”
CHAPTER 8
“All them Federal soldiers jumped ship and landed at Fort Sumter. I swear on a stack a bibles that’s where they went, and in haste.”
“ What? You’re daft, old man.”
“ I agree with Lawrence, Joseph. That old pile of rocks isn’t complete. It cannot be defended.”
“It is a better defensive post than Moultrie , and a danger to all of Charleston. I bet it has dozens of cannons planted in the unfinished walls facing this very building.”
The pitcher shattered on the tavern’s wide plank floor. All eyes turned on Dru. She shook uncontrollably. Nerves and anger warred inside her shifter body. How could
Why had Mistress Cumberland interrupted them? Her body had made ready for his, welcoming him. Frustration filled her nights since he kissed her cheek and returned to Sullivan Island.
Now? He’d left Fort Moultrie for places unknown.
Maggie muttered something.
Dru refilled the pitchers, then tossed pieces of Maggie’s fried chicken on a platter. The aroma made Dru’s stomach growl. “Maggie, speak up. I cannot offer my opinion if I do not know the question.”
“I am complaining, that be all. I would rather be abed. My head aches and I feel the cold, today.”
Dru smiled. The weather had turned blustery, but warmer than the winters she spent in Scotland. “Why not take to yer bed? I can handle the few men who have not the sense to keep to their homes this day.”
“Ah, you are a lovely lass. What would Mistress Cumberland say?”
“She’s off to church then to her daughter’s home for dinner.”
Maggie removed a large tray of biscuits from the oven, then wiped her hands on her apron. She sighed as she kissed Dru on the cheek, then trudged up the back stairs. The peck on the cheek, so similar to Shaw’s kiss, did not ignite her senses the way they sparked to life when Shaw drew near.
Dru hefted the pitcher of cider, foregoing the ale. Men had no need to get in their cups tonight. Cradling a basket filled with Maggie’s biscuits, she pushed through the door separating the hot kitchen from the much cooler dining hall.
As she walked among the tables, a half a dozen men nodded. She filled their tankards and offered biscuits. Her heightened dragon hearing caught their conversation . The tone sounded tinged with anger, while some chuckled.
“Aye, they turned tail and ran,” one man said.
“The fort is burning. Nobody’s home, I hear.”
“Are you talking ‘bout the soldiers from Fort Moultrie?” Dru asked, biting her bottom lip for her impertinence.
“We are, woman. The soldier boys are cowards.” Laughter filled the dining hall.
Dru forced a smile, though inside she worried about Shaw. The fort was aflame? Where was he?
“Where have they gone, do ye suppose?” she asked, pouring more cider to delay her return to the kitchen. She would rather take flight, follow Shaw’s scent, and carry him to safety. Maybe, all the way back to Scotland.
“I have no idea,” one man said, before downing his cider.
“I know.”
All heads turned toward a spry old fisherman who had settled by the front window. Dru recognized him as the kind man who’d delivered Shaw’s gift. He sat alone with a cup of tea.
“What do you know, Joseph?” A large dockworker stood and tossed the man a hot biscuit. Joseph caught it on the fly without moving more than one arm.
“I’ve me sources, boys.” Joseph smiled.
Dru walked over to his table and poured him a tankard of cider. She would not return to the kitchen, even to reheat his tea, until she heard what he knew about the soldiers.
“They moved camp, ‘tis all.”
“Moved where?” asked another patron. Everyone went quiet, as if Joseph was a storyteller, guiding the story to its mysterious conclusion.
“Fort Sumter, in the bay.”
CHAPTER 8
“All them Federal soldiers jumped ship and landed at Fort Sumter. I swear on a stack a bibles that’s where they went, and in haste.”
“ What? You’re daft, old man.”
“ I agree with Lawrence, Joseph. That old pile of rocks isn’t complete. It cannot be defended.”
“It is a better defensive post than Moultrie , and a danger to all of Charleston. I bet it has dozens of cannons planted in the unfinished walls facing this very building.”
The pitcher shattered on the tavern’s wide plank floor. All eyes turned on Dru. She shook uncontrollably. Nerves and anger warred inside her shifter body. How could
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