Lynna's Rogue by Kitty Margo Page B

toward his horse, but he was stopped by a small hand on his arm.
                  “ What’s your hurry? If I remember correctly , you and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”
                  A few more hours without sleep would not kill him , he surmised, and she might prove a pleasant diversion when he couldn’t make the trip into Charleston. “At your service,” he chuckled, and reached to draw her into his arms.
                  “You cannot be serious, Joshua! I do have a reputation to uphold, and unless I miss my guess , Samuel and Beth are peering through the curtains this very minute like some peeping Toms . At times, I think Beth is just searching for a reason to send me packing. No, I am afraid we wi ll have to show some discretion.”
                  “I can be very discreet.” I gnori ng her weak protests he pulled her against him right there on the front lawn. His kiss affected her so that it was several minutes before she could summon a reply.
                  “Shall… we meet later… tonight?”
                  “ Name the time and place.” Then, his lips again descended on hers, succeeding in drawing the breath from her body.
                  “Meet me at midnight… down by the pond,” she gasped before turning to bolt into the house.
                  Joshua smiled as the door slammed shut behind her. She had certainly turned nervous and jittery upon finding him a willing subject. He had first learned the trick from Sam Bogan, only then the ruse had failed miserably. Joshua would keep their rendezvous at the pond tonight. Although he doubted Suzanne would show , after having witnessed her hasty flight just now. H e knew her kind well.
     
                  After a heartfelt welcome home from his mother and sister complete with hugs, kisses and tears of joy, Joshua quietly and with great trepidation , climbed the winding stairs. He dreaded entering the room that reminded him so much of death with that sickly sweet smell of infection that had assaulted him upon his first visit. During his stay at Christmas , he had ordered the servants to remove every floral arrangement, hoping, unsuccessfully, to rid the house of the smell.
                  Joshua both dreaded and anticipated this reunion with his father. He was s orely afraid he would be hard pressed t o control his emotions and might allow pity to slip into his voice , a n emotion he knew his father would deplore. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and was left standing with his mouth gaping open. Was that really his father propped up against the headboard of the bed , going through a neat stack of papers? From the waist up he resembled t he man Joshua remembered .
                  “ You are looking well, Father.” He could not keep his amazement at his father's rapid recovery hidden. What could have brought about such a drastic change, when on his last visit he had appeared within an inch of slamming death’s door behind him?
                  Jeremiah, engrossed in his work , hadn’t heard him enter. He looked up, a broad smile playing across his still handsome face at the sight of his son. “Good to have you home, son! Good to have you home!” His deep voice echoed through the house. “Your mother said you were home at Christmas, but , unfortunately, I cannot say that I remember.”
                  “Yes, Father, I was home. A nd I must confes s I am left truly amazed by your recovery from then until now.”
                  “It goes without saying that I feel much better, son. I guess anyone can see that. The truth is , I moped and pouted and just plain felt sorry for myself for months on end, and where did it get me? Nowhere. Then the strangest thing happen ed. I had a dream one night, the most vivid dream. That dream opened my eyes, son, and I awoke the