Beholden

by Bronwyn Williams

  Katy, remembering what had happened that first day aboard the Queen, caught Tara’s eye and frowned.

  Tom shook his head and turned back to George Gill.

  Bits of conversation flowed like a warm current through the room. Something about the stock market—a few words about China. Someone mentioned oysters, and Maureen declared her old knees were about to give out on her.

  The room was overheated to Katy’s way of thinking. She had yet to get used to the warmer climate, without a fire on the hearth. Yet there was something undeniably comforting about the smell of woodsmoke mingling with the lingering scent of roasted chicken, of juniper paneling, coffee, and beeswax polish.

  She did her best to take comfort, but in a room filled with people, she felt utterly alone. Already, Tara acted as if she were part of the family, helping Maureen, jumping to retrieve Mr. Merriweather’s lap robe when it slithered to the floor. Teasing the two boys and playing with Miss Drucy as if the two of them were the same age.

  And she really was growing a bosom. Somehow, that was the most depressing thought of all. That the day would come when Tara would no longer need her.

  Katy jiggled the baby, who was beginning to fret. She searched for some resemblance to Galen in his niece’s tiny face. Her name was Lianna, for Liam, the brother who had died. Ana had laughed and said it was a stretch, but it was either that or Hespeth, after Brand’s mother.

  Katy allowed her mind to drift away. Gale? A daughter could be named Gale. A son could be called Galen Declan, or perhaps—

  “Don’t you agree?”

  “Don’t I—?”

  “I was saying I do believe a woman can have a career as well as a man if she managed it correctly. Who better than a woman can juggle half a dozen tasks without even blinking an eye? We do it all the time. Every housewife I know is a manager, even if she has a houseful of servants. Not that you’ll find many men who’d agree,” she added with a mischievous smile.

  “What are you doing, darling, stuffing this young woman’s brain full of your radical philosophy?” Brand stood over them and held out his arms for his daughter. “Come here, pumpkin, if Mama won’t change your napkin, then I guess it’s up to Papa.”

  Ana batted her eyelashes until Katy had to laugh. “But you do such a lovely job of it. How could I, a mere woman, ever manage such mathematically precise corners?”

  Katy handed over the fussing baby. She envied them their strong bond of love. Perhaps one day . . .

  She glanced over at the window seat, where Galen and Margaret sat talking, their heads close together. Across the room, Miss Drucy got up from the table, scattering scraps of paper, and wandered over to Galen. For several moments she stood there, her head tilted to one side. “Did I used to know you?”

  With firelight flickering on his angular features, Galen stood and cupped the withered face between his hands. “Yes, you did, madam. Last year on your birthday you trounced me at checkers and cut up my best necktie for your rag rugs, but I love you just the same. Happy birthday, dearest Drucy.” He kissed her gently on the brow.

  She looked puzzled for a moment. “And it rained. Didn’t it rain? I thought it did, but perhaps . . .”

  Tom came and led her away. “Bedtime, Mother. Boys, come hug your grandmother good night.”

  Simmy and Tom led the old woman upstairs. And then Ana and Brand carried the baby up. Katy waited until they’d all disappeared and then she slipped away, too, not daring to glance at the window seat, where her husband sat with the beautiful woman from his past.

  *

  Galen waited almost a full hour. He had known the very moment she’d left to go upstairs. If Margaret hadn’t been right in the middle of a rather lengthy and tedious description of her husband’s last illness, he would have left much sooner.

  “That must have been difficult for you,” he murmured.

  Katy, wait for me. Dammit, I can’t just walk off and leave her. It would be rude.

  “Well, it’s not as if we didn’t know what was coming. The trouble was, as the lawyer put it, the clock didn’t start until poor Allen actually passed away, and by that time, things were in such a mess. I suppose you went through the same thing when Liam died, although it’s different with a brother than it is with a spouse. Still, I felt so awful for you when I heard. We were in Austria at the time. Allen was attached to—”

  And on, and on, and on. Galen had heard more about the life and times of the late Allen Gitman Ruff, banker, diplomat, husband extraordinaire, than he ever cared to know. And how much Margaret had suffered through it all, uprooting herself time after time to follow her husband from pillar to post as his financial support to the party paid off and he was given two ambassadorships in the space of seven years.

  Had she always been this boring?

  Probably. Only he’d been too young to notice much beyond her elegant cheekbones, her willowy body, and the mysteries hidden behind those quiet gray eyes.

  The attributes that had once struck him as serene, mysterious, and romantic now struck him as boring and self-absorbed. No man should ever have to meet his first love after years of glorifying her in his mind, measuring every other woman against the impossible standards she’d set.

  She hadn’t even asked him about his narrow brush with death, or about what he was doing now, or about Katy and his plans for the future.

  *

  Katy was sleeping when he finally managed to escape. On her side, with her fist curled under her chin and her thick braid trailing across his pillow, she looked small and incredibly vulnerable. He happened to know she wasn’t. Any woman who could leave home with a child and a trunkful of encyclopedias, and come five thousand miles to live among strangers, was far from frail.

  Quietly, he removed his clothes, hanging them in the closet beside her gown. On impulse, he lifted a sleeve and inhaled the faint scent of her body—that clean soap-and-wildflower fragrance that was as much a part of her as her green eyes, her thick black hair, and the handful of freckles that were more visible now than when she’d first arrived.

  “Katy, Katy, what am I going to do with you?” he whispered, not for the first time.

  He knew what he wanted to do, but because she was probably sore, and because he didn’t have the nerve to wake her from a peaceful sleep and demand she do her wifely duty, he settled beside her, thinking of all the nights and all the mornings to come.

  How had he managed to get so lucky?

  *

  The message came just after daylight. Galen, already awake, had been toying with the notion of easing Katy’s nightgown off her sleeping body, wondering how she would react to waking up naked. His own reaction was already in evidence.

  It was Evard, the young handyman, who rapped on the door, and called, “Cap’n? Message just come from the station for you. Surfman that brought it said if you wanted to send a reply, he’d wait and take it.”

  So much for his plans for a lazy morning spent making love to his wife. “Half a minute, I’ll be down.”

  It could only be from the sheriff. He had left word where he could be reached. Unfortunately, the only way of getting word to him was through Pea Island Lifesaving Station, as wireless communications didn’t extend to private homes here on the Outer Banks, not even for people as wealthy as Maurice Merriweather.

  He hoped to hell it was good news. The thought of Katy’s being in danger was enough to turn the rest of his hair white.

  Half an hour later he was trying to explain why he had to go, and why Katy couldn’t go with him. It was an uphill battle. “Listen to me, I don’t have time to argue. Pam will be here in less than an hour and I need to go over a few things with Brand first.”

  Her lower lip thrust out. There was more fire in her eyes than pale green eyes were supposed to generate. But then, he supposed any bride, being told that her husband was leaving her two days into their marriage, might be upset.

  “It’s just that the Queen’s not fit to sail, and Aster damned well knows it. Bellfor
t tried to talk her out of it as soon as he heard she’d hired a pilot.”

  “A pilot?”

  He sliced the air impatiently with a hand. “No ship can leave harbor without a river pilot. It’s the law. Trust me, she’s up to something, and if I don’t get back before she goes through with it, the Queen and all hands are apt to end up on the bottom before they even clear the harbor. Now, I’ve told Brand and George Gill about the trouble back in town, and what to be on the lookout for—”

  “You’re not thinking he’ll be coming here, to be sure.”

  “I’m not taking any chances. You’re to stay within plain sight of the house at all times, is that clear?”

  Her jaw took on a certain rigidity that usually spelled trouble. He had dealt with it before; with any luck at all, he’d be dealing with it for the next fifty years. But right now, he didn’t have time. Aster had the jump on him, and if he didn’t move fast to save his investment, he might lose it, and if he lost it, he just might lose his shipyard before it was even out of the planning stage.

  “Promise me you’ll behave, Katy?” She refused to look at him. He waited as long as he dared, feeling torn, hating the feeling. “You know I wouldn’t leave you if I had any choice. I’ll be back before you know it. You and Tara can have yourselves a nice beach holiday. You can compare notes with Maureen. Get her to tell you about her favorite recipe for punch. Ana swears it’s Irish whiskey and prune juice.”

  He was trying to tease her into a better mood, as if she were no older than Tara. Katy was ashamed of herself. Taking a deep breath, she smiled. “We’ll be just fine. You go along now and do whatever you have to do. Aster’s probably just wanting attention. Some women are that way.”

  He burst out laughing. “You never cease to amaze me, you know that? Come and give me a kiss, and see if you can whistle up a breeze while you’re still puckered. Otherwise, I might have to get out and walk.”

  “Or whistle up one of those noisy motor launches.”

  The good-bye kiss nearly tore her apart. She had thought they’d have a chance to talk last night, but she’d been more tired than she’d realized. By the time he’d come up to bed—if he ever had—she’d fallen asleep.

  Of course he had come to bed. Just because he hadn’t been there when she’d woken up, that didn’t mean he hadn’t been to bed at all. His pillow was rumpled. His town clothes had been hanging in the closet next to her own.

  She put her heart and soul into the kiss, telling him all the things she lacked the courage to put into words. Hoping he would understand. Hoping he would come back to her quickly, before her doubts could overshadow her dreams.

  “God, I hate to leave you like this,” he whispered hoarsely, after kissing her until her knees nearly buckled. She touched his face, his neck above the collar of the soft blue shirt he’d put on for the journey, a complete change from the ones he usually wore.

  He looked so different without his narrow black boots, the narrow black pants, and the elegant black frock coat he wore so well. She liked the way he looked now, with the sunlight glinting down on his bare head. “Go along with you, we’ll be waiting when you get back.”

  “Katy, I—” She waited, but instead of saying whatever it was he’d been going to say, he kissed her again. She clung to him until he gently set her aside and left, and then she hurried to the bedroom window to watch as he emerged below on the boardwalk, and strode down to the waterfront, where . . .

  Where Margaret waited, her luggage stacked beside her.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  They were going at it tooth and nail when Galen loped up the gangplank. Dropping his hastily packed bag by the nearest stanchion, he was half tempted to turn around and go back to The Landing.

  Face red, hair awry, and her eyes blazing, Aster looked ready to take on all corners. Bellfort was glaring right back at her, his grooming for once less than impeccable. Neither of them paid the slightest attention to their growing audience.

  “Dammit, you’re not taking her out, Aster. I can’t allow it.”

  Fury jerked her chin up another notch. “You can’t allow it! You can’t allow it? Let me tell you something, Jack Bellfort, nobody tells me what I can or can’t do!”

  Arms crossed, Galen leaned against the bulkhead and watched. They were well matched, but his money was on Aster. Bellfort was too much the gentleman to fight dirty. Dirty was Aster’s favorite technique.

  Bellfort caught sight of Galen and shook his head. Galen interpreted the look as butt out, I can handle this. He nodded, reassessing the odds.

  “I’ll have you thrown off my boat! You have no right—!”

  ”I have every right,” Bellfort said calmly. Galen could have told him that with Aster, calmness would carry him about two minutes into an argument. After that, it was no holds barred.

  Those members of the crew and staff not on duty had gathered to watch the match. No doubt money would change hands, based on the outcome. Ila edged up beside him, her thin lips pursed in disapproval. “Reckon you heard the ruckus all the way down the Banks. Lord help us, if she sets off in this old bucket, I’ll not be on board. I’ve known Elsworth Tyler since the day he come to town selling patent medicine. That man never spent a penny in his life on nothing that didn’t show. Silk shirt and threadbare drawers.”

  “Or as they say out West where I spent a few memorable months, big hat, no cattle.”

  “Where’s Katy? Don’t tell me you two busted up already.”

  “She’s still at The Landing. And no we haven’t, so you can climb down off your high horse.”

  She poked him in the arm and said, “Humph!”

  Bellfort cast him a look of appeal. “Would you please enlighten my new business partner, McKnight? I can’t seem to get through to her.”

  “What new business partner?” Aster demanded, suspicion momentarily undermining her anger.

  “Haven’t you told her yet?” Galen asked Bellfort, feigning innocence. They had barely opened negotiations when he’d had to drop it to get Katy out of town. Now he tried to recall if Bellfort had actually agreed to his asking price. He queried with the lift of a brow.

  Bellfort replied with an imperceptible nod.

  Galen turned to Aster, “Sorry, I thought I’d made it clear before I left. Bellfort’s bought my shares. He now owns fifty-one percent of the Pasquotank Queen. I believe that gives him controlling interest?”

  Damned if he didn’t feel sorry for her. She looked like a kid left holding a sucker stick while a dog ran away with her candy.

  Evidently, Bellfort thought so, too, because he moved in on her left flank, took her arm under his, and said, “Now that we’ve settled that, how about joining me for dinner aboard the Belle. I have a business proposition for you.”

  Galen had an idea that the proposition might involve a little more than business. This time, though, he wasn’t placing any bets. Shaking his head in amazement, he watched them stroll off, arm in arm.

  “Looks like a case of April and May to me,” Ila said smugly.

  “Dream on. Bellfort would never—Jack and Aster? You really think so?”

  “Too many sparks not to be no fire.”

  Well, hell. He’d broken off his honeymoon for this?

  “Why didn’t he just tell her he was buying me out? Why the devil did I have to come all this way for nothing?”

  “A woman like Aster, she’s got to see proof. She don’t believe nothing a man says without he can prove it.”

  “Comes from being her father’s daughter. Anything new about the murder?”

  “Come on inside where we don’t have every ear in Pasquotank County listening in, and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  Over two mugs of Willy’s hard-boiled coffee, the telling didn’t take much time. Sal was having trouble keeping food down. There was some question of whether or not she’d be able to carry the baby full term. The doctor had gone to Charlie, who’d panicked and spilled his guts in exchange for a shorter term, with the result t
hat the police were in the process of winding up the whole affair.

  “You mean it’s all finished?”

  Ila nodded. “If it’s not done yet, it will be once they pry that feller out of that huntin’ lodge. He went to earth over near Johnstown. Once they rounded up Buck—”

  Galen knew about Buck, but still he was disappointed. He would have sworn the ex-convict he’d taken on as a bouncer was a reformed man.

  “Don’t look so surprised, you can’t save ‘em all. It was Charlie and Buck that tipped off the outside man. His name was Shy—well, I reckon it weren’t his real name. All the same, Buck would go outside for a break, pass the word to Shy, and Shy and this other feller would be waiting to relieve the night’s big winner of his poke.”

  “Just which one did Katy see, Shy or this other fellow?”

  “Shy was the one that got a wire twisted round his neck and was throwed overboard. Doc told Charlie, and Charlie told Sal, and she told me, that the way he figured was, the murderer snuck up behind Shy, caught him around the neck with the wire, then shoved him overboard. Charlie was some scared, I can tell you.”

  Ila finished her coffee and slid the cup onto a cluttered nightstand, while Galen tried to sort it all out in his mind. He kept thinking, Charlie and Buck. Damn. Right here under his nose, all the time.

  What if Tara hadn’t come to him? What if he’d thought the whole thing was just another of her fanciful tales? He could have lost Katy. He could have lost them both.

  Ila shook her head. “Awful business. I don’t mind telling you, I had myself a glass of whiskey before I went to bed last night so I wouldn’t dream about it.” She lifted her feet onto the bed, dislodging Tara’s kitten. The kitten promptly jumped up onto Galen’s lap and began exercising her claws on his thigh.

  “Falling out among thieves, that’s what old Judge Henry called it. Reckon he ought to know, he’s seen enough of ‘em in his day.”