Ward himself felt in the box and brought out a dark lock of hair tied with a faded scarlet ribbon.
“If we knew who this belonged to, we’d probably know the secret of the box,” he told her.
Pandora trembled all over as she reached for the oak-colored curl. It felt warm to the touch. She held it gently, caressing it with one finger.
“Thank you, Ward,” she said quietly. “You’ve given me a real treasure.”
He laughed. “You’re right about that. I dug this box up when I was ten years old, down at Laffite’s Grove. My friends and I used to search for treasure down on the west end of the island when I came home from school on my vacations. I was the only one who ever found any. And now it’s yours. Happy birthday, Pandora.”
The dizziness was back, accompanied by a warm, tingling feeling in her limbs. Bells rang in Pandora’s ears and the whole room seemed wrapped in mist. She felt as if she were drifting away. Then the ship’s clock on the mantel called her back, chiming eight bells—midnight.
She leaned toward Ward, still holding her box of treasures close. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.”
Pandora closed her eyes and pursed her lips, offering Ward a kiss of gratitude. He hesitated only briefly.
The moment their lips touched, Pandora felt something akin to an electric shock. Jolted, she opened her eyes. The room with its driftwood fire and fishnet curtains had vanished. Ward Gabriel was gone, too, but she was not alone.
She was seated not on the couch, but on a palm log before a blazing bonfire on a wide, white beach. Not Galveston’s familiar beach. This was some place she’d never seen before, with strange, twisted cedars and a ragged shoreline. All about the fire, a ragtag lot of men and women sang and danced. Some sort of celebration was in progress.
A tall man with tanned skin and tawny, sun-bleached hair loomed over her, offering his hand and smiling down at her.
“It’s time, darling,” he said, caressing her with eyes like dark jade.
Pandora slipped her hand into his and rose. He leaned down and kissed her—a long, searching kiss that seemed to set her very soul aflame.
She was barefoot. The sand sighed as she walked through its deep drifts. The man beside her kept his arm protectively about her, his fingers stroking the side of her breast, sending little thrills of pleasure through her.
“I got it, Boss, the broomstick!” cried a dark monkey of a man, waving a broom handle decorated with flowers and ribbons over his head.
The men and women gathered round singing as the dark-skinned dwarf placed the broomstick gently on the sand.
The man beside her spoke in a voice husky with emotion. “I love you,” he whispered. “I think I always have. I know I always will.”
Then, taking her hand in his, the tall, handsome stranger, dressed in tight britches, polished boots, and a scarlet sash, jumped the broomstick, marrying his love in the native fashion.
The scene faded before Pandora’s eyes into a dazzling array of colors. She became aware then that Ward Gabriel’s lips were still pressed to hers. She knew she should pull away, but she seemed to have lost all will of her own. She closed her eyes again.
In the next instant, the bright kaleidoscope began forming new patterns and she felt the hot colors throbbing through her whole body.
When the swirling shades of red, green, and orange fell into place, she was no longer on the beach, but in a huge, gilt bed. And he was beside her—as naked as she, she realized, spotting her own filmy gown of ecru lace on the bedpost and his burgundy robe lying on the floor.
Already they had been involved in their prelude to love-making. She felt the scald of her blood in her veins and the throbbing ache of desire deep within her. Every nerve in her body felt as if it were dancing on the very surface of her flesh. She lay tense—listening to his breathing, waiting for his next move.
Slowly, he drew the cover down over her, exposing her nakedness to his eyes, inch by agonizing inch.
“Just relax, darling,” he whispered, and his warm breath passing over her made her nipples harden with need.
He touched her breast—a featherlike stroke that brought a soft moan from her throat. He smiled down at her, leaning ever closer to her lips. When his mouth covered hers, she gave in to him at once, parting a way for the gentle stroking of his tongue.
He tasted of sweet, red wine. Yes, she remembered now! They had shared a glass earlier. He had passed the warm liquid from his own mouth into hers as they kissed. That had been the very start of it all. The awakening of passion and longing and desire.
As his kiss deepened, she clung to him—moving as he moved, willing him with her silent actions to take her as he would. Now, her heart sang. Now, my darling, please.
He loved her slowly. Trailing his strong, brown fingers down her body until her flesh quivered beneath his touch. His mouth rained kisses down her throat and breasts, and he captured a taut nipple between his warm lips and suckled deeply. She twisted on the bed, her head flailing from side to side. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles tighten beneath her palms. He released her, but it was only a moment’s respite. His teeth grazed her other nipple, his tongue lashed it viciously. Fire raged through her body, turning her flesh, it seemed, into a mass of hot, throbbing colors.
Down and down and down his lips trailed until she felt his hot breath upon her thighs. He held her in place with those big, strong hands while his tongue stroked slowly, taking her beyond desire to ecstasy. She no longer existed except for him. She was his to love, to torment, to do with as he would.
He was there above her, easing down gently until flesh met flesh. She felt his hot pulse between her legs. Without fear, she opened to him. His thrust came quickly—a bright burst of pain that instantly turned to excruciating pleasure. She clung to him, knowing that now they were one. And as one, they reached that final, ultimate moment when the heavens opened up to welcome them and the night stars sang and all the colors of the universe glowed in their souls.
After a time, he drew away from her slightly. He kissed her lips with the slow, lazy pleasure of the afterglow of their loving.
“Now, you are truly mine,” he whispered. “For now and for all eternity.”
Suddenly, Pandora’s eyes were wide and staring. She was still in Ward Gabriel’s house, still seated on his couch, with her lips still pressed to his. Quickly, with a start, she drew away.
Ward opened his eyes slowly, looking decidedly puzzled as he smiled at her. “Thank you, Pandora. That was sweet.”
Sweet? What was he talking about? Her heart was thundering, her whole body ached, and there was a peculiar tenderness between her thighs. There was nothing sweet about his taking advantage of her while she was out of her head. Her head—it throbbed terribly.
“I’ve got to get home. It’s late.”
She jumped up from the sofa and looked at the clock. She froze. It couldn’t be! She glanced out the window. Still dark. Then she couldn’t have spent the whole night here. And surely she hadn’t been here since the night before.
“What’s wrong, Pandora? You’re as pale as a corpse.”
She ignored Ward, but said aloud to herself, “The clock must have stopped.”
“No. I heard it strike eight bells only a few minutes ago. It’s in fine working order, Pandora.”
She turned to stare at Ward, utterly confused. “But it can’t be. So much has happened. Everything has changed…”
Ward frowned. She was making no sense at all. And she was obviously on the verge of hysterics.
He reached out to touch her arm. “Take it easy, Pandora.”
She jerked away from him. “No! Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again!”
Now he looked angry and his voice when he spoke was cold. “If I remember correctly, you kissed me, Miss Sherwood. Of course, I didn’t exactly fight you off, but it’s hardly my style to force little girls.”
She was so
confused. Her head was spinning. Yes, of course, the kiss had been her idea—in thanks for his gift. But what about all the rest? She covered her chest with her arms. Her breasts were still aching. If it had all simply been one of her visions, she wouldn’t feel this way now. Somehow, Ward had managed to take advantage of her. Perhaps he’d put something more than brandy in her coffee. Yes, that had to be it! And then, before she came around, he’d turned the clock back. It was the only explanation.
“Your gown is almost dry. Perhaps you’d better go home now. I’d take you, but I still have plans for what little’s left of this evening.”
Pandora could tell Ward was angry with her by his tone and his curt dismissal. But all that mattered now was that she get away from him as quickly as possible.
Grabbing her bedraggled gown, she ran into the bedroom. She didn’t bother to turn on the overhead electric light as she shed his robe and pulled on her clothes. A few moments later, she was dressed and ready to take her leave of Mr. Ward Gabriel.
She came out of the bedroom and, without a word, made for the door. He stopped her, thrusting the antique box into her hands. “Don’t bother to thank me again,” he said coldly.
She didn’t. She fled into the night as if she were running for her life.
Ward, completely taken aback by her queer behavior, watched from the open door until she disappeared into the darkness.
“Strange girl,” he muttered, shaking his head.
He reached for his oilskin cape but stopped, frowning. There was still time to get to Abbie’s. How odd. He didn’t want to go there now. He didn’t need to. His body still ached, but now it was a nice, relaxed sort of weariness. He felt as if he’d just had extraordinary sex with a very accomplished lady.
He threw his coat down and settled back on the sofa, gazing at the dying flames. He shook his head in wonder. If a simple kiss from Pandora Sherwood could do that for him, what must she be like when it came to serious lovemaking?
Pandora found her team tethered where she had left them. She climbed into the surrey and headed for home at a much slower rate than before.
The chilly wind felt good in her face. She didn’t even mind the light rain. At last her head began to clear. What a fool she’d just made of herself. Of course Ward Gabriel had not taken advantage of her! It was her own mind playing pranks again.
When she’d kissed Ward, something about that moment had triggered the vision. She knew from past experience that when she lapsed into one of her dreamlike states, time lost all meaning. She could see a lifetime in a matter of seconds. She saw it was, indeed, only slightly past midnight when she passed the old church clock. Even if Ward had wanted to take advantage of her, he wouldn’t have had time. She vowed to seek him out before she left for Europe. She wanted to apologize for her strange behavior tonight and to try to explain as best she could.
By the time she reached the house on Broadway, she felt much calmer. Now, if only she could get past her aunt and uncle without too much explaining. They had given up trying to control her actions long ago. But embarrassing them in front of guests was strictly forbidden.
“Pandora, darling!” her aunt sobbed as she spied her niece coming in through the servants’ entrance. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe!”
Running to her, her aunt took Pandora in her arms, weeping in relief.
“I’m fine, Aunt Tabitha, just cold and sandy. I went to the beach. It was a silly thing to do and horribly rude of me to dash away from my party like that. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Oh, my dear, of course. You hurry upstairs and I’ll have Cassie bring you hot water for a bath. Your uncle and I are just so relieved that you’re all right.”
Pandora felt guilty for putting her family through all that she had. Still, it was a relief to escape to her room without any big to-do about the whole matter. Aunt Tabitha hadn’t even mentioned her ruined gown.
Cassie, Pandora’s personal servant, brought hot water and a new cake of French lavender soap. Pandora sent her maid to bed, then shed the damp, clinging gown.
Before she stripped off her underthings, she walked over to the vanity where she had set Ward’s gift. She opened the lid and peeked in. What a mysterious collection of objects! She wished she knew who had owned them and how they had come to be in this box. She picked up the earring and turned it this way and that so that the opals caught the light. Somehow the bauble looked familiar to her. But where could she have seen one like it? It was very old and obviously hand-crafted.
She replaced the earring, closed the lid, and began removing the rest of her underclothes as she stood before the vanity mirror.
She felt sore in the oddest places tonight. But then, she’d had quite an unusual evening. She shrugged out of her camisole, relieved to note that her aching breasts bore no telltale bruises. This reaffirmed her belief that Ward Gabriel had left her untouched.
She stepped out of her pantelets and stood up, gasping at her own image on the mirror. Suddenly, the throbbing tenderness she’d noticed earlier pulsed to new life.
All the color drained from her cheeks as she stared, aghast, at the dried blood smearing her inner thighs.
“It really happened!” she gasped.
Chapter Three
Three days later, the foul weather had blown through, leaving a bright Indian summer day in its wake. Pandora kept to her room while the rains continued, pleading a head cold from her midnight stroll on the beach. Actually, the ills she nursed were more mental than physical. She hadn’t felt up to seeing anyone, not even Jacob. She still wasn’t sure what had happened to her at Ward’s cottage. Her problem was hardly the sort of thing one discussed with one’s fiancé.
Jacob called several times a day, inquiring after her health, but she had yet to speak with him. By the third day, he would be put off no longer. He telephoned, requesting Tabitha Sherwood to inform Pandora that he would call for her at noon. He planned lunch for them at the Beach Hotel and a long ride afterward.
“Inform Pandora that this time I refuse to be refused,” he told her aunt.
So there it was; she would have to face him. But what would she tell him? That she had been unable to conjure up any vision of their married life together, so she’d fled to the beach in the middle of the night, where she’d been rescued by Ward Gabriel, who later in the evening may or may not have stolen her virginity?
She sighed wearily as she pinned her navy straw hat securely in place. The entire tale sounded as phony as a Houston aristocrat to her. Certainly, Jacob would find her story difficult to believe. She would just have to try to make him understand. In a few days, she would be sailing for Europe. She couldn’t bear to leave with bad feelings between them. Surely, Jacob wouldn’t want that either.
Cassie knocked gently at the door. “Miss Pan, Mr. Jacob’s downstairs.”
Pandora took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, willing the afternoon to go well. “Thank you, Cass,” she called back. “Tell him I’ll be right down.”
The moment Pandora saw Jacob, her heart sank. What a beast she had been! He was always a serious person, but today he looked unusually somber, tired, and perplexed. The dark circles beneath his eyes told her that he had had little sleep since the night of their engagement party.
She went to him at once and kissed his cheek. “Jacob, I’m sorry I’ve put you through all this.”
His words were clipped as he cast a meaningful glance toward her aunt, who was hovering nearby, listening. “We’ll talk about it over lunch, Pandora. Shall we go?”
Outside, Jacob helped her into his open buggy without a word. For several blocks they rode without speaking—down Broadway by Ashton Villa, the Italian Renaissance mansion where the Brown family lived, and “Open Gates,” the fabulous Sealy estate, built at the exorbitant cost of three hundred thousand dollars, with its gilded ballroom and attic theater. Soon they turned into Tremont Street and headed for the beach.
The silence fi
nally became too much for Pandora to bear. “Jacob, I hope you’ll let me explain,” she said softly.
“I hope you can explain, Pandora! That’s exactly the reason I insisted you come out with me today.” He turned and searched her face, his own filled with concern. “The other reason I wanted to see you is that I’ve been so worried about you, Pandora. You obviously weren’t yourself the other night.”
She wanted to reach over and cover Jacob’s hand with her own, but she dared not. He objected strongly to any public show of affection. “I know that, Jacob. And I’m so sorry I’ve caused you such anxiety. It isn’t fair of me.”
“Fair has nothing to do with it, Pandora. You were out of control when you left the house the other night. I was worried sick about you. I tried to find you, but when I reached the stable, Tombee told me you’d ridden out like a wild woman. He said he thought you’d headed toward the docks.” He laughed, but there was little humor in it. “I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought, Pandora. I figured you’d be at the ruins of Laffite’s old mansion. I spent over an hour combing the area around Maison Rouge, Water Street, and the wharves. I even stopped by Crazy Nettie’s shack. She and her man were there, but she claimed she hadn’t seen you.”
“Don’t call Daniel Nettie’s man.” For no reason that she could think of, Jacob’s comment made her angry.
“Well, what would you call him?” he demanded. “Her servant? I don’t believe a word of her wild tales about his being an old family retainer who’s stayed with her through thick and thin. The woman’s balmy.”
“She is not,” Pandora insisted hotly, gripping the edge of the seat and fighting for control. “Nettie’s just different from most people. As for her relationship to Daniel, they’re friends. They look after each other because no one else cares about them. It’s very sad. That’s why I try to be nice to her.”
“You’re too tender-hearted, Pandora. That old woman is nothing but a liar and a pickpocket. I’ve seen how she and old Daniel work the sailors when they come off their ships. Why, they both ought to be put away!”
Forever, For Love Page 5