"It is conceivable," Carlisle had explained, "that whoever the party was who had seen fit to offer such huge sums for your father's tobacco—for Harper's price had been more than fair—had stood to gain a great deal by way of making the deal with Jeremy, and, conversely, stood to lose just as much by not gaining it. I say we concentrate our efforts on finding out who that person was."
But determining the objective of a search is far easier than securing it, and although, through the years, a great deal of time and money had been spent in locating the unknown factor or merchant who had made the unusually attractive offer for Jeremy's tobacco crop, no solid clues to his identity were to be found.
In the years intervening, Garrett had become convinced their efforts were bent in the right direction. Numerous circumstantial clues pointed the way.
A transfer agent had been located who swore Jeremy had been unduly upset when making the arrangements to send his cargo to Harper's client. The man had distinctly heard Jeremy mutter words to the effect that he'd never seen a man so upset at having an offer rejected—it had been thrice Harper's bid. Jeremy had mentioned wishing he had been able to accept, and that the factor had been in a "murderous mood" when Jeremy had explained it was a "matter of honor."
Nora Winston, Marianne's lady's maid, had been to see her sister the week before she and the others at Riverlea were killed, and she had told the sister how she had heard the mistress spending over an hour one evening telling her husband who fine and noble he was to have placed his honor above financial gain, assuring him that he could ignore the threats of the disappointed factor, for they would surely come to nought and that his honor rightfully took precedence over anything else.
Now, as he meandered slowly down the trail that led toward Fredericksburg, Garrett pondered these few scraps of evidence he had to go on. If only he could find out who the unknown factor was. He wondered if a trip to New York might be in order. Harper's client, if Carlisle's agents were correct, still operated out of that port. Perhaps talking to them directly could shed some light on what kind of business climate had prevailed at that time, twenty years ago, to make a competitor so anxious to steal a contract from them that he would be willing to triple their already generous offer.
It was a route connected with his present course that he hadn't considered before. It might be worth the trip. Even if it led to a dead end, he would have done something—although he knew in his unspoken mind that the present direction of his search had to turn up something positive, for if it led nowhere, the chances of finding any new trails to follow were slim, indeed. And, as a drowning man reaches desperately for a floating piece of timber he knows might not even support him, he clung to the hope that this choice was the right one.
Garrett ambled down the riverfront street leading to the wharf where he'd left the Marianne and spotted her main mast standing tall in the afternoon sunshine, well before he caught sight of the immaculate hull he knew his crew kept as spotlessly clean and gleaming as the decks themselves. The mere sight of it made him eager to be under way, and he increased his pace in anticipation.
It was with a state of recognition that he noticed, down an alleyway across from where the ship was anchored, a large gray stallion being held, not without a little difficulty, by a small black boy of about eight or nine.
"You, boy. Where'd you come by that horse?"
"De lady done tol' me t' watch 'im, suh. She gib li'l Jasper a whole gol' piece and says ah's gotta watch 'im till she come back off'n dat ship. An ah's doin' it, suh; but dis hoss, he pow'rful jumpy."
The big horse then proceeded to demonstrate just how jumpy he could be, threatening to pull away from the boy's grasp entirely, as Garrett reached out and grasped the tether.
"Easy, boy, easy, Thunder. That's a good fella." As Thunder began to calm under his gentling hands, Garrett addressed the boy.
"What ship was that, the lady boarded, son?"
"Dat'n raht dere, suh. De Marianne, she done call it."
"Son, do you see how I'm holding this horse, firmly, and close, like this?"
A nod.
"Do you think you can manage to hold him awhile longer, doing it this way?"
Another nod.
"Well, if you do, and you don't let him get away from you, there's another gold piece in it for you, all right?"
"Yassuh! Ah's gon' be de bes' ol' hoss watchah 'round dis day!"
"Good." And to Thunder, "Behave yourself, old boy." And with that, Garrett strode firmly aboard his ship.
John Baxter met him as he climbed on deck and the mate's frown indicated his concern. "Sir, there's a lady—"
"I know, Mr. Baxter. Where is she?"
"I took her to your cabin, sir. I tried to tell her you weren't here, but she wouldn't take no for an answer, and she insisted she'd wait for you aboard ship and I couldn't—that is, I didn't—" His first mate flushed with embarrassment at the predicament he found himself in, of having allowed an unauthorized person—and a female at that—aboard during the captain's absence, and sensing the man's discomfort, Garrett smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry about it, man. You wouldn't be the first one that little baggage has managed to discomfit. Everything else in order?"
"Aye, Captain!"
"Then, stand by to make sail. There's a change of schedule. We leave for New York with the tide."
"New York, sir?"
"Aye, Mr. Baxter. Does that pose any problems?"
"No, sir."
"Then get on with it!"
"Aye, sir!" As Baxter moved to obey his command, Garrett went quickly below.
He opened the door to his cabin with such force that it banged loudly, and he stood in the doorway, legs astride, fists on hips, filling it with his huge presence as Christie whirled to face him.
She had been sitting on the chair at his desk, which occupied one corner of the small, neat cubicle. She was attired in a tight-fitting riding habit of turquoise
velvet, its long folds of skirt swept gracefully to one side as she sat, accentuating the long, slender curve of her hips and thighs. Her heavy hair had been carefully braided in a high coronet atop her head, but numerous softly curling wisps and strands, which had blown loose from her ride, now framed her face enchantingly as she looked at him.
Garrett's voice was heavy with sarcasm as he addressed her. "Can it be the haughty Miss Christie Trevellyan who's designed to visit these humble chambers? It must be important business to attract one so pure to the quarters of a 'womanizing scoundrel.'"
"Garrett, I need to speak with you."
Her turquoise gaze was steady and he couldn't help noticing the sensual curve of her mouth as it moved with her words. "God, she's something!" he thought. "What a shame I have to send her off packing!"
To her, he said, "I'd ask you to sit down, but since you've already made yourself comfortable, what is it you want? It must be important to bring you into the wolf's lair." A slow grin crossed his features. "Was it only a day ago you were asking what it took to be rid of me?"
He moved into the cabin now, closing the door behind him.
Christie looked uncomfortable as she noted the action, and she spoke hurriedly. "I—I came to make you a ... a deal . . . about Thunder. For reasons you've already heard, I've decided it would be a waste not to stud him, and I'm prepared to accept your offer on my own."
She twisted a small handkerchief nervously between gloved fingers.
"And your father?"
"Naturally, he doesn't know I'm here. But I have Thunder with me. If you can manage to find room for him aboard your ship, I can hire a carriage to take me back to Windreach before dark and there will be ample opportunity, by the time Father finds out Thunder's gone, for me to . . . talk to him and convince him I did the right thing."
"Are you in the habit of disobeying his wishes?"
He sat down on the narrow bunk. His eyes were fixed directly on hers, and he proceeded to stretch out, placing both hands lazily behind his head while he swung o
ne high-booted leg over the other. - "No, truthfully, Father and I usually see eye to eye on these matters, and when we've disagreed, the differences have always been resolvable, but this time he's gone too far—I'm no longer a child to be overprotected and—"
"Ah, so it's the threat to your pride which prompts this charming little visit, is it? My horse-breeding program may be attractive to you, but more important, is the fact that little Christie's independence has been challenged, and the darlin' girl cannot stomach that!"
"I can see I'm wasting my time with you, Garrett. It was a mistake to come here." Her tone was icy, and she rose as if to leave.
Garrett's feelings were mixed as he regarded her. "If I just let her go now, without anymore words, she'll walk safely out of my life without any unnecessary complications," he thought. But as he looked at her, his thoughts were at odds with the warm surge of blood he felt coursing through his body as he again imagined her in bed with him,
all warm and drugged with passion. "She has the most provocatively sensual mouth I've yet seen on a woman," he mused. "The contrast it makes, with the wide-eyed innocence in those eyes, is not to be believed. Damn! I don't know when I've wanted a woman this much! It must be because I've put her off limits." And, with a shrug, once more he armored himself against his natural inclinations.
"Good-by, Miss Trevellyan," he said coldly.
Christie had almost reached the door when she turned around toward him. There was no denying he was attractive. As he lay there in lazy repose on the bunk, she was struck by the sheer force of the stark male beauty he presented. His sun-bronzed face showed up his eyes as even more green than she remembered; his hair was worn longish and thickly curling, reaching to his collar as it set off the handsome face, and one black lock had fallen casually over his forehead, giving him a rakish appearance that made her heart skip a beat. The big, muscular size of him had the power to make her feel tiny and fragile by comparison, and this alone had a weakening effect on Christie, whose height had always given her a distinct feeling of superiority over any men with whom she chanced to fence. Remembering the times they had stood close, as when he had held her, dancing, she recalled her eyes coming up to below his chin level, forcing her to look up when she addressed him, something she rarely had occasion to do with anyone.
Now, as she was preparing to leave, she wished she could find words to make him change his mind, giving her reason to stay, but, noting the steely glint of dismissal in his eyes, she was forced to deal with the humiliated anger this engendered, and her words were laced with frigid fury as she spat them out.
"Don't bother to see me out. I can see I'm dealing with no gentleman! I was foolish to think you would understand."
Garrett shot swiftly up from the bunk and across the space which separated them until he stood directly in front of her. "Foolish? Yes. But not in your estimation of the man's degree of understanding. Foolish, rather, in your underestimation of the man himself!"
And before she could reply, he reached out and drew her to him in a hard, sweeping embrace, bringing his mouth down on hers in a demanding, consuming kiss that didn't stop. Christie immediately brought her arms up to push him away, but he caught them, and pinning them at her sides, began to move his mouth more forcefully over hers, once again parting her lips as his tongue began to search out the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. She tried to twist her head aside, but he was too strong for her, and now she could feel the hard, muscular strength of him as his whole body pressed against hers. There was a twisting, knotting sensation deep in her loins as she became more conscious of the feel of him against her own softness, and when he moved one hand up to caress her breast, she moaned softly.
At this, he lifted his head from hers for a moment, and his eyes, she saw, were dark and passionate. She gasped as if to protest when, once again, his mouth found hers, and this time her arms moved up around him, clasping willingly about his neck for, once again unable to explain why, Christie found herself returning the kiss with a passion she hadn't known she had.
The response was not lost on Garrett; with a groan, he began to unfasten the buttons of her bodice, and his warm hands discovered the round softness of her naked breasts beneath her shift.
Now, as she began to be conscious of what he was doing, Christie realized she could feel the unmistakable pressure of his swollen manhood against her belly. Suddenly terrified, she was about to tear herself away when, roughly, he released her instead. The effect was to send her abruptly backward, and she fell against the chair she had been sitting in earlier.
Breathing heavily, Garrett growled a warning. "That, sweet Christie, is what comes of shipboard meetings between unescorted little girls and the men they would manipulate. Kindly take your enticing, damnable person out of here, and do not venture this way again, if you value your—honor. I'm sending you back to your father with your bargain—and other things—unfulfilled. And bear in mind, sweet, that there aren't too many men who would hold sacred the innocent charms you so carelessly throw about. Luckily for you, I have better things to do than the taking of young virgins! Good day!"
Now, heaven knew, Christie wanted nothing more than to escape him at that instant, and she quickly re-buttoned her bodice to prepare to leave, blushing hotly as she did so, but there was something—later she was to damn herself a thousand times for the impulse—a flicker of anger, perhaps, over being regarded as a child again, which made her hesitate for a moment, and in that instant there flashed in her head a scene in the stable at home, and the foolish words of her cousin, Melissa, came suddenly to mind.
"Who—" she stammered, "who says I'm a virgin?"
She had meant the retort mainly as a spiteful weapon to hurl at him as she marched safely out the door, much, as in earlier days, she would have stuck her tongue out vengefully, at a teasing playmate while making a calculatedly safe exit.
But somehow, everything went wrong; feeling for the door as she spoke, she noticed Garrett's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at her words. Suddenly, he began to move toward her while she fumbled frantically with the door handle. She had managed to open the door slightly when he was upon her.
"No," she said. "No—don't—"
But he had her now. Covering her mouth with his as she started to scream, he lifted her up in his arms and, kicking the door shut with one booted foot, carried her struggling form to the bunk. Christie began to writhe and twist violently against him as he held her, but Garrett, his passion never really abated, moved with great speed and force to throw his body over hers. He was kissing her again. With a pull, he released the pins that held her hair, and running his fingers through it, brought it tumbling down around them; then he was sweeping one expert hand over her body as the other held her still. Fiercely, she tried to pull her lips away.
"Don't bother to yell for help," he murmured against her mouth. "The men on this ship take their orders only from me, and there isn't one who would dare come through that door without my permission. Not," he grinned, "that a woman with experience should be screaming at this stage, sweet. Why don't you give up playing the innocent little maiden now
and stop fighting me?"
Christie wanted to tell him that she was an innocent little maiden—toying, she suddenly realized with a deadly, sickening feeling in her stomach, with fire, and she cursed herself for being so foolish as to think she could get away with playing adult games she knew nothing about. Her eyes widened with fear as she began to understand fully the nature of her situation.
But she had only seconds to contemplate this as, again, his mouth began to work on hers while his hands played skillfully with her body. This time he forewent the intricacies of undoing bodice buttons, and with a rip, tore open her habit from neck to waist. Her shift was next to succumb, and then she felt caressing hands on her exposed breasts. She gasped in shock, but as his fingers rubbed lightly across the hardened peaks of her nipples, she also felt a quickening sensation in her belly and moaned deeply in response.
Garrett
laughed softly at her reaction and moved his hand up, under her skirt, deftly brushing the insides of her thighs. Alarmed now, Christie attempted a renewed struggle, pressing her thighs together tightly to resist. Anticipating this, Garrett placed one knee between her thighs, forcing them apart, and with his hand began to explore the softness between.
The effect on Christie was devastating. Of a sudden, her body kindled with an unfamiliar flame, and with a will of its own, arched up to meet his. Her lips opened eagerly to accept his probing tongue as wave after wave of tingling excitement pulsed through her.
What was happening to her, she could not imagine, but she felt that her will was not her own, and it was only with a dim awareness that she knew Garrett had risen briefly to discard his own clothing; with something akin to wonder and fear, she watched his magnificent naked body as he worked to free her of the rest of her,own clothes.
Then he was rejoining her on the bunk, running his hands expertly over her silken flesh while he spoke softly against her throat.
"Do you know I've wanted you like this from the moment I saw you there, on that damned horse of yours?
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