Dear Reader,
I am so pleased that my titles have been converted into e-books for your continued enjoyment. Splendor was a total lark, from beginning to end. I've always had a fascination for things paranormal, and once I stumbled upon the idea of St. Elmo's fire and an invisible pirate, there was simply no stopping me from creating this story. I had so much fun with this novel, all the mischief involved in the tale. May you enjoy reading it as much as I took pleasure from writing it.
Catherine Hart
“Splendor” Copyright © 1993 by Catherine Hart
SPLENDOR First Ebook edition August 2018 ISBN: 978-1-944654-21-4
All rights reserved. No part of the Ebook may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both copyright owner and Class Ebook Editions Ltd., the publisher of the Ebook. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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“What could be more exciting than an adventurous, swashbuckling romance like Catherine Hart's FIRE AND ICE? – Romantic Times
“ASHES AND ECSTASY will keep you captive in its colorful world from the first page” – Romantic Times
“An absolute delight, pure fun and sizzling romance from the first page to the last, with a twist in the plot that makes it stand apart … a book I'll always remember. Wonderful characters! Witty dialogue! In SPLENDOR Catherine Hart proves herself to be a master.” — Bestselling author Catherine Anderson
“A rollicking swashbuckler that's full of laughs and loads of fun to read... Enjoy.” –New York Times Bestselling author Kat Martin on SPLENDOR
“A real page turner, sparkling with verbal wit filled with that special Catherine Hart touch of magic.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on SPLENDOR
“Bold and audacious.”– Publishers Weekly on CHARMED
“Veteran historical author Catherine Hart branches into time-travel romance and takes lucky readers on a wondrous journey. CHARMED combines magic, history, and romance into a most enthralling read.” – Romantic Times
“Hart offers a gripping, sympathetic portrait of the Cheyenne as a proud people caught in turmoil by an encroaching world.” – Publishers Weekly on SUMMER STORM
“Hart again demonstrates an unusual sensitivity to Native American traditions [and] presents the Cheyenne way of life with great respect and sympathy.” – Publishers Weekly on NIGHT FLAME
“TEMPEST is more than a romance, but a novel that teaches us about forgiving and building a new life. An extraordinary novel.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review
“This is a light-hearted, charming, delightful, classic Catherine Hart romance. Hart has incorporated her unique sense of humor with a powerful clash of wills and a highly sensual love story. Fans are in for a real treat.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on TEMPTATION
“Catherine Hart has written a delightful love story filled with some wonderful characters. A fast-paced page turner.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on DAZZLED
“IRRESISTIBLE is tantalizing—a love story that will make you laugh and cry and lift your spirits. Catherine Hart has created a story of love triumphing over all obstacles. This is the ‘feel good’ read of the season.” – Romantic Times 4½ starred review on IRRESISTIBLE
“Action-packed, thrilling HORIZONS is an exhilarating tale of courage, ingenuity and survival. With this novel as her launching pad, the talented Ms. Hart makes a spectacular jump into contemporary fiction.” – Romantic Times 4½ starred review
“Hart chooses to set her latest tale of romantic suspense in the high-profile world of professional sports. Those looking for danger and passion spiced with humor will find she delivers.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on IMPULSIVE
Splendor
Catherine Hart
Class Ebook Editions, Ltd.
New York, NY
Table of Contents
Cover
Dear Reader
Copyright
Praise for Catherine Hart
Title page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Biography
Also by Catherine Hart
Excerpt
Fire and Ice Chapter 1
Chapter 1
1718, Somewhere in the Caribbean
All the demons of the deep were loose and on a midnight rampage. Stealthily, they struck from the smothering darkness with scarcely a whisper of forewarning before the first magnificent crash of thunder rent the false calm, resounding over the water like a death knell. The sea gave a mighty heave, sending the frigate reeling upon waters suddenly turbulent with gigantic swells. Sails, flapping gently mere seconds before, now nearly exploded with the intense gusts battering them.
The startled crew of the Gai Mer, most shaken abruptly from slumber, scurried to their posts, desperate to reef the canvas against the raw fury of this unexpected storm. Shoving his young helmsman aside, the ship’s captain hurriedly took charge of the wheel himself, instinctively knowing his advanced experience would be needed if they were to survive this show of power which nature had visited upon them so capriciously.
Over the roar of the gale, Captain Kane shouted orders to his men. The wind whipped his words from his mouth; thunder drowned them in its trembling wake. Jagged spears of lightning split the heavens, slicing through the roiling clouds to release a blinding deluge upon them. Within seconds, the decks were as slick as ice, the rain pelting like a thousand prickly nettles to pierce their flesh.
Drenched sails languished momentarily beneath their own sodden weight, flailing and twisting like a washerwoman’s wet laundry, snapping like mad dogs as they strained against the lines and the insistent pull of the wind. Several billowed free once more, cracking loudly, sending sailors sprawling as the frigate lurched in frantic response. Clews groaned, grommets popped, separating canvas from line and line from spars. Shrouds tangled like clumps of twine caught in the hand of a mischievous giant.
On the bridge, Devlin Kane fought the wheel, the muscles of his brawny arms bulging as he strained to keep the frigate’s nose angled into the ever-building waves. His booted feet were braced wide for purchase on the slippery deck; his soaked breeches and shirt were plastered the length of his tall, broad-shouldered frame. Eyes as black as ebony squinted against the pouring rain, peering into the night, scanning the deck below him and the skies above. With neither hat to secure it nor thong to bind it, his tawny hair whipped about his head like the shaggy mane of a lion, as wild and free as the man who sported it.
Lightning flashed, and the hoop of gold i
n Devlin’s left ear winked an answering glimmer, as did the strong white teeth now bared in a primal grin. Sleek, sun-darkened flesh drew taut and wet over the slim, straight blade of his nose, the curve of bold cheekbones, the stubborn square jaw with a cleft carved deeply into the center of his chin.
The prow of the ship dipped perilously low into the dark heart of a steep trough of water. Trembling walls of water rode high all around, threatening to bury the Gai Mer at any moment. A froth of salt water sprayed over the bow in a shimmer of lightning-lit lace, dashing over the decks like the spread of a lady’s shawl. Miraculously, the ship rose, balancing precariously on the wobbly crest of the next wave in a nimble dance of defiance.
With a toss of his head, Devlin let loose a deep, rumbling laugh. “That’s the way, m’ lady!” he chuckled, encouraging the frigate as if she were a living thing. “The dragon’s shaking his tail for all he’s worth this night, but ’twill do him little good. Nay! Old Neptune may aim his trident at us all he wishes, yet we’ll dodge his every thrust! We’ll best him at his own game, or I’m not Devlin ‘The Devil’ Kane, captain of the heartiest crew of pirates ever to sail these seas!”
As if to disclaim Devlin’s boast, the waves grew ever higher, the gale stronger, tossing the ship about as if it were no more than a splinter upon the ocean. The planks and masts creaked against every blast of wind and surf that pummeled the frigate relentlessly. Waves surged over the sides, claiming three hapless victims within their foamy grasp before the angered storm gods were mollified.
By the end of it, Devlin was ready to nod his head in deference to the mighty power of the sea, that most haughty and demanding of all mistresses. She’d almost won this bout, and it was a profound relief to find himself still standing when the storm at last began to wear itself out. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, the thunder weakened to a few final grumbles, when Devlin finally pried his stiff fingers loose of the wheel and turned the ship over to his helmsman once more.
Still flexing feeling into his hands, he strode a few feet to the mizzenmast. On the near side of the mast, a large peg had been driven into it, with a small slanted roof fixed a little space above. Shoving aside the scrap of tarp that had provided added shelter during the storm, Devlin reached out to untie the large, slightly damp, and disgruntled hawk tethered there. Zeus, as the bird was called, was Devlin’s trained falcon and the Gai Mer’s resident talisman. As he smoothed a calming hand along the sleek plumage, Devlin crooned, “Quite a ride for you, eh, my friend? Aye, ’twas a rough one this time for us all.”
With a rustle of wings, the agitated hawk landed atop Devlin’s shoulder, his curved beak snapping irritably at a wet strand of Devlin’s hair. On a bark of laughter, Devlin swatted at him. “Behave yourself, bird, or I’ll be feasting on falcon stew when next I break my fast, and my pillow will be the fatter for your feathers.”
The last of his words were nearly drowned out as a tremendous clap of thunder shook the ship, surprising in its intensity now that the storm was all but over. It was followed immediately by the most brilliant blue light, so bright that Devlin reflexively shielded his eyes from it. Unlike the usual lightning, it did not merely flash and diminish as fast as it came. Rather, the glow seemed to brighten. Wondering at this oddity, he cast his gaze upward, and paused to stare in mute wonder, as did every other man on deck, the lot of them struck dumb by the sight.
Though Devlin had been sailing for eleven years, never had he witnessed anything like this. He’d heard of it, to be sure, from other seamen, but he wasn’t certain he’d ever believed their tales. Yet here it was before his stunned gaze. The proof of their words. Saint Elmo’s fire—skipping along the mizzenmast in a blazing ball of dazzling blue flames!
Everything he’d ever heard about it came rushing to mind. Some said it wasn’t true lightning at all, but a phenomenon unto itself. Most agreed it came either at the beginning or at the end of a storm, heralding good or bad weather to follow, which would explain its appearance now, after the worst gale Devlin had ever encountered. The more superstitious sailors believed the strange light to be the souls of drowned seamen seeking solace and a final resting place aboard ship. Others claimed it was a portent of good luck, but only if it remained above the rigging on the mast. If it traveled downward, below the rigging, it was a sign of sure misfortune, most especially if it landed upon the ship’s rudder. That most awful event was thought to be what created ghost ships, dooming poor lost souls to wander the seas evermore, sailing eternally through misty realms, caught betwixt heaven and hell forever.
Just thinking about it sent a shiver down Devlin’s backbone. Before he had further time to consider the matter, the freakish blue orb began to descend the mast. One and all, the crew stood transfixed, agape with fright. Standing where he was at base of the mast, just below the fireball, Devlin knew he should move back, but his feet seemed rooted to the deck. His feet and legs refused his brain’s frantic commands to retreat.
The sphere of light moved slowly, creeping eerily downward until it reached the lower edge of the rigging. There it hovered, shimmering, as if deciding which direction to take. Then, in the blink of an eye, it hurtled toward the deck, where it seemed to explode upon impact in a blinding blaze of sparks.
Caught in its path, Devlin felt a sizzling shock slam through his body. If Thor had thrown his mighty hammer from the heavens and hit Devlin in the chest with it, it could not have stunned him more. His eyes glazed over, his vision blurring. Within his chest, he felt his heart cease its beating. His brain screamed out a warning. Breathe! Breathe! Yet he could not seem to make his body obey, could not draw breath into his burning lungs. His limbs began to quake, as if in a fit of palsy, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Then, even as every ounce of his flesh and bones quivered, a queer numbness enveloped him, sucking him swiftly into a sparkling, spiraling void.
All about him, Devlin’s crew watched in fascinated terror as the blue ball of Saint Elmo’s fire engulfed their captain. Before their stricken eyes, he began to shake violently, every hair upon his head standing straight on end! And Zeus, upon his shoulder, stiffened and puffed out into a wad of fluff that more resembled a huge dandelion puff than a falcon. Except for the bird’s eyes, which bulged out of its head as if on the ends of miniature pokers.
Then, to their further amazement and terror, the pair began to glow. Caught up in the searing blue sphere, both began to shimmer with an eerie iridescence of their own, as if the power of the strange lightning had entered their bodies and now shone from within. White, blue, green. Silver and gold. Bold, lustrous color radiated from them, so luminous it became almost too bright to bear watching.
Gradually, the light began to waver and fade, bit by bit. But lo and behold, to their immense horror, so did their captain and his bird! Those who still watched could not believe their eyes. One minute the captain stood glimmering like a saint come to life—and the next, he had faded away to nothing! Completely and absolutely gone! Not even a pile of ashes to mark the deck upon which he’d trod! Swallowed up in thin air!
Charles Town
Eden Winters gave an inward sigh, clasped her hands in her lap, and gritted her teeth behind what she hoped was a placid smile. Seated directly across from her in the small parlor was the primary cause of her current headache and many of her most pressing problems— one Dudley Finster. By occupation, he was the son and heir of Charles Town’s only moneylender, and an accomplished and cunning accountant in his own right. Just now, Dudley Finster was Eden’s nemesis, her archenemy, and a man most determined to court her into marriage with him.
“Come now, my dear,” Dudley was saying, with a stretch of his thin, pale lips that seemed to Eden more of an evil grimace than a smile. “Such reluctance may be your idea of seemly conduct, proper spinster that you are, but it is entirely unnecessary. A simple agreement on your part, followed by a short period of engagement, would be quite sufficient.”
“Sir, I do not want to marry you. I have no wish to mar
ry anyone at this time. As you know, I have a company to run and an invalid mother in need of my care. Those endeavors take up most of my waking hours. I do not wish to add the burden of a husband.” Eden paused a moment to let him digest her words, then added for further emphasis, “If, indeed, I wished to marry, there are others whom I might also consider as suitors for my hand.”
Finster frowned slightly. “Ah, yes, but how many of them would willingly take your mother to their bosoms, Miss Winters?” he asked snidely. “A veritable millstone about their necks. I, on the other hand, am resigned to it, if that be the only means of attaining you as my bride.”
Attaining my property is more the truth of the matter, Eden thought grimly. Though the shipping warehouse was currently in her widowed mother’s name, Eden managed it, and it would one day pass on to her, as the only child, and thus to Eden’s husband and children, should she have them. It was no small holding, being advantageously located on the wharf, large and easily accessible to the many ships that plied their trade in Charles Town Harbor. The only problem was that, under Eden’s inexpert guidance, the business was fast losing money. It had been declining steadily since her father had fallen ill and died three years before—a fact of which Dudley Finster was well aware, since his lending house held the note on Winters Warehouse, a note long past due.
He pressed that point now. “I regret having to say this, but how many of your prospective suitors would also be able to assume your debts, even should they be willing to do so? Whereas, if you were to wed me, the note would be dissolved immediately upon our marriage, as well as any other outstanding debts you might have accrued.”
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