Rapture's Tempest

by Bobbi Smith

  Jim glanced down at her as he felt some of the tension leave her body. But when he noted what he assumed was an expression of sublime contentment on her face, his expression hardened. How dare she look so content after the chase she’d led him on!

  Jim’s voice was almost too sharp when he spoke, and she looked up at him quickly. “We have to talk.”

  She trembled as the harshness of his voice grated on her nerves. “I don’t see the need…it’ll only make matters worse.”

  “I want some answers from you,” he demanded.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she stated flatly. What more was there to say? He had Annabelle and his life, and she—well, she was doing just fine.

  “I’ve got news for you, lady. We’re going to talk, and right now.”

  “But why? There’s nothing more we can say to each other. What happened was an accident.”

  Jim was seething. Did she mean that she didn’t really love him? “So, you did use me,” he concluded scathingly.

  “Use you?” Delight looked up at him, tears threatening.

  Wanting to hurt her as she was hurting him, he dragged up the spy charge. “The contracts…you did have ample opportunity to read them…”

  “Contracts? What are you talking about?”

  “I think we’d better get out of here. Is there somewhere we can go to talk? Someplace private?” He refused to look at her again, for the pain he’d seen in her eyes had seared his soul, and he needed to set things straight between them. Now. The dance ended, but Jim didn’t release her. “Well?” he demanded.

  “Maybe the study…” she said brokenly.

  “Let’s go.”

  They were starting out the door when Annabelle’s call stopped them. “Jim, darling…could you join us for a moment?”

  He turned, forcing himself into a semblance of civility. “Of course. I’ll be right with you, Annabelle.” Turning back to Delight, he spoke in earnest. “What I have to say will take a while, and this is not the time or place. After the ball…I’ll be back. Be waiting for me outside, or I’ll wake up the whole damned house.”

  Delight blanched.

  “Do you understand me, Murphy?” He emphasized her “name.”

  “I understand,” she managed as Annabelle came to Jim’s side and took his arm.

  “Thank you for the dance, Delight,” he said courteously, bowing slightly before walking away with Annabelle.

  And Delight sighed in defeat as she watched them go.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Although he was anxious for the evening to draw to a close, Jim was trying carefully to disguise his emotions. Rejoining the party, he tried to pay court to Annabelle; but, though he danced each dance with her and listened attentively to her every utterance, his thoughts were only for Murphy/Delight.

  He had learned much this night, and most of it was quite disturbing. He knew now that Martin Montgomery very well could have been the reason for Delight’s flight into anonymity. As an innocent young woman, what recourse would she have had if her stepfather abused her, except to run away? Jim could understand her predicament, if indeed Martin was the cause. All that was left in doubt now was her possible connection with the Southern spies.

  Wanting to discuss the situation with Marshall, Jim finally managed to draw him aside.

  “I need to speak with you alone,” he said urgently.

  “Why?” Marshall was surprised by his unusual request.

  Jim gave him an impatient look. “Trust me. It’s important.”

  “All right. Let’s step out into the hall; maybe there’s somewhere we can speak in privacy.”

  Leaving the room together, they sought a quiet niche at the end of the long hallway.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing’s the matter, actually. I’ve just located Murphy.”

  “Murphy? Here?”

  “My darling cabin boy, Murphy, is none other than Miss Delight de Vries,” Jim told him triumphantly.

  “Murphy is Delight?!” Marshall was stunned. “What did she say? Did she explain why she ran away and disguised herself as a boy?”

  “I don’t know all the answers yet. I really haven’t had a chance to speak with her at any length, but I’m going to.”

  “You’re not going to do anything foolish, are you?”

  “No. Of course not. I just have to set a few things straight between us.”

  After a thoughtful silence, Marshall spoke again. “Well, that certainly eliminates Murphy as the possible spy.”

  “Are you sure? Isn’t there a chance that a spy ring may be operating out of this house, or that she might have contact with them somehow?” Jim pushed, wanting her to be completely vindicated in his mind.

  “None. Renee has known Delight for years. There’s no way she could have been the one passing the information about our gold shipments,” he concluded.

  Jim nodded, his expression one of vast relief. “Good. That’s what I wanted to know.”

  Putting a companionable arm about his brother’s shoulders, Jim headed them back into the ballroom—feeling considerably lighter of spirit now that his mysterious beauty had been found, as well as proven innocent of spying. Marshall was greatly amused by his brother’s predicament and wondered what in the world Jim was going to do about Annabelle.

  Moving from his vantage point in the shadows at the end of the hall, Martin smiled evilly to himself. He had been livid when he’d overheard Marshall and Jim discussing Delight, but now he was glad that he’d eavesdropped. So, the little vixen had spent those two weeks away practically living with Jim Westlake as his cabin boy?

  The conclusion he reached was inevitable. It hadn’t been an accident that Westlake had walked in on them in the study. Why Delight had probably been waiting for Jim to join her.…Fury and jealousy shook him as he realized that she could no longer be the sweet innocent. Somehow, he would find a way to pay them both back—Delight for refusing him, and Jim for stealing what Martin irrationally considered his.

  With the information he had just learned concerning the Westlakes and the gold shipments, Martin knew now that he was in a powerful bargaining position. Perhaps, if he made the right contacts with Confederate sympathizers in the area, he might be able to make an arrangement that would be satisfactory to both sides.

  Dorrie Westlake was standing near the refreshment table when Mark Clayton joined her.

  “Good evening, Mark.” Her smile was tentative, for he had seemed distant and preoccupied all evening. “It’s a lovely party, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, it is.” His answer was almost curt.

  “Is something bothering you tonight, Mark?” she asked, hoping to draw him out a little.

  “No,” he replied, finishing off his bourbon and then setting the glass aside. “Nothing’s wrong, but I would like to dance with you.”

  “I’d love to dance, Mark.” Dorrie liked Mark and had always found him to be a good friend.

  Mark had been drinking all night, and now, emboldened by the liquor he’d consumed, he was ready to change his tactics in pursuit of Dorrie. No longer would he be satisfied with only being her friend. He needed more than that. He needed her love.

  Leading her out onto the dance floor, he took her into his arms and joined the other couples as they circled gracefully about to the sensuous rhythm of the music.

  Mark had been tremendously relieved when Wade MacIntosh had drawn duty tonight. He had known that Wade had been invited to the party, and he had dreaded the possibility of a confrontation with him over Dorrie. Tonight he wanted her all to himself, so he could convince her of his intentions. Studying her dark beauty as they danced together, Mark knew that he would never be satisfied with any other woman. For him it was Dorrie or no one.

  “Dorrie?” When she looked up at him questioningly, he continued, “I have to leave with Jim later this week, but I will be off duty Monday, and I was wondering if you’d like to go on an outing?”

  She was sur
prised at his unexpected invitation. “Why, I’d like that Mark, very much.”

  He smiled widely at her acceptance. “Good. I’ll plan on picking you up about two o’clock, and we can take in one of the expositions downtown.”

  “It sounds lovely. Thank you.”

  As the dance ended, he led her out into the now-deserted hall. “I’d like to speak with you privately for a moment, if you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not, Mark.”

  Opening the door to the deserted music room, he ushered Dorrie inside. When he closed the door behind them, she turned to him, puzzled.

  “Mark?”

  Without wasting time, his resolve strengthened by drink, he strode to her purposefully and kissed her.

  Dorrie was at first a bit surprised by his actions, but, as she relaxed, she found Mark’s embrace to be quite pleasant. Slipping her arms about his neck, she returned his kiss, and she was surprised at the ardor he displayed at her small encouragement. She had never thought of Mark in romantic terms before, but now, wrapped in his arms and held tightly to his chest, she found the possibility wildly exciting.

  Not since Paul had she allowed herself the luxury of a man’s caress, but tonight, with Mark, it suddenly seemed so right…all thoughts of Paul fled her mind as Mark’s lips explored hers with a fervor that lit fires deep within her. Fires that she’d thought she’d never experience again.

  Mark was burning with desire for her. And, when she’d responded to his overtures, he had been ready to profess his love. But a little common sense remained, and he released her reluctantly, knowing that he was moving too fast for her.

  “Until Sunday…” he said abruptly, and then turned and quit the room, leaving Dorrie standing there, staring after him.

  As the final few guests departed the house, Clara closed the door and turned to hug Delight. “It was a wonderful party, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Mother. It was.” Delight tried to sound enthusiastic, but her upcoming confrontation with Jim was weighing heavily on her mind.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Clara noticed her daughter’s less than excited manner.

  “I think I’m exhausted.” Delight sighed heavily, hoping Clara would not look beyond the obvious. “We’ve had one busy, long day.”

  “That we have, darling, but it was worth it. You were stunning. Why, I don’t think you sat out a dance all evening.” Clara beamed, proud of her beautiful daughter’s social success.

  “I don’t think I did, either.”

  “Well, you go on up to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”

  “Good night, Mother.” Delight kissed her cheek. “Martin…”

  Martin had been watching the two of them, his expression enigmatic. “Good night, Delight.”

  Delight started up the staircase, very aware of her stepfather’s piercing, stripping gaze upon her. Hurrying down the upstairs hall, she entered her room and shut the door behind her. There wasn’t much time…Jim had left the party almost an hour before, and she was sure that he would be back at any moment….

  Delight paced her room in anxious despair, alternating between the fear of seeing Jim again and the exciting thought that before the night was over she would once again be in his arms. Listening and hoping that her mother and Martin would soon retire for the evening, she waited.

  * * *

  “Would you like me to refill your drink?” Annabelle offered, gazing up at Jim adoringly.

  “No. I’m fine,” he told her. “In fact, I must be leaving shortly. It’s getting late.”

  “Must you go so soon? Father’s already gone on to bed,” she offered, pressing more closely to him.

  “I’m afraid so. Tomorrow’s going to be a very busy day.” He knew he wasn’t lying about that.”

  “Will you have time to stop by?”

  “I’ll try,” he promised, setting his glass aside. Standing up, he drew her up with him. “Walk me to the door?”

  “Of course.” Her lips curved into an inviting kissable pout, but, when Jim didn’t take her up on the offer, she wondered at his thoughts. He had been most attentive at the party, but since they’d come back to the house he’d seemed introspective…as if there was something important on his mind.

  When they paused before the door, Jim drew her to him and kissed her lightly. “Good night.” His words were soft as he let himself out, and Annabelle stood alone in the foyer, staring at the closed door.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Her eyes downcast, her hands clenched nervously in her lap, Delight sat silently across from Jim in the swaying carriage as it rumbled down the cobblestone street.

  “Where are you taking me?” Marveling at how calm she sounded, Delight waited for his answer. She looked up and tried in vain to make out the expression on his handsome features in the gloom of the darkened conveyance.

  “Someplace you’re quite familiar with, my dear.” His voice was smooth as silk, and Delight saw the flash of his smile in the deep shadows.

  “Oh?”

  “My cabin. It’s the one place we’re guaranteed privacy.”

  “I don’t know why we can’t say what needs to be said right here,” she stated with a firmness she little felt.

  “Don’t you?” he asked sardonically.

  Swallowing nervously, she didn’t respond, but waited, much like a fly caught in a web, for what was to come next.

  Jim sat back, intent on watching her every move. He knew she was upset, but there was no help for it. He had to see her…touch her…hold her…one more time. They had to talk about what had passed between them, and there was no better place to do that than back in his cabin where it had all happened. He didn’t want this to be difficult for her, but damn, when he’d tried to help her into the carriage she had shaken off his helping hand and sat as far away from him as possible. The thought that she might not feel the same way he did unnerved him, and he was anxious to be alone with her so he could discover the truth.

  When the carriage drew to a halt on the levee near the Enterprise, Delight grew tense. The sight of the big white steamer brought back all the memories of her days with Jim, and she didn’t want to think about that…not now. She had to keep her wits about her. He was going to marry Annabelle. What was he doing taking her back to his cabin? Did his betrothal mean so little to him?

  But Annabelle was the furthest thing from Jim’s mind as he helped Delight down from the carriage and escorted her up the gangplank. They spoke not a word as they made the companionway to the texas deck.

  “Jimmy? Is that you?” Ollie’s call drew their attention, and Jim cursed under his breath as they came face-to-face with him. “Murphy?” His tone was incredulous as he stared at her feminine beauty in the dim light of the boat’s lanterns.

  “Oh, Ollie!” she cried, throwing herself into the gentle man’s arms.

  Ollie stood bemused for a moment and then patted her back reassuringly. “Where have you been? The captain and I’ve been so worried. My, you look like some fine lady…are you all right?” His words soothed her, and, sniffing loudly, she moved slightly away.

  “You were worried?” She looked at them both.

  “We were frantic. Why Jimmy’s been searching the town for weeks now.”

  “That’s enough, Ollie.” Jim cut him off, furious at Ollie’s revealing words.

  Ollie waited only a second before continuing. “So, he finally found you, did he?”

  She nodded, looking nervously at Jim. Had he really been looking for her? Hope flared within her breast, but she quickly denied it to herself.

  “Yes. I found her all right. Her name is Delight de Vries, and she’s a close friend of Renee’s.”

  “You’re the Delight Renee wanted Jim to meet all those weeks ago?”

  “The same,” Jim replied dryly, and Ollie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now, if you’ll excuse us?” Taking her by the arm again, Jim steered her toward his cabin. “We have a few things to discuss.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll j
ust bet you do. Delight, it’s nice to finally know who you really are.” Ollie was still smiling as he went on down to the saloon, thinking that his captain certainly had his hands full tonight.

  The sound of the cabin door being closed and locked completely unnerved Delight, and she turned to Jim quickly as he stalked across the room.

  Standing before her, his emotions masked behind a cool expression, Jim paused momentarily to study her, his eyes capturing and holding hers with an intensity that left her breathless. Then, in a simple motion, he reached out and unfastened the clasp at the throat of her cloak. The warm garment fell to the floor in a soft heap, but neither moved to pick it up.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Jim murmured, his eyes caressing every inch of her.

  He wanted her…God, how he wanted her! His body ached with the sweet need to be joined with hers, but there were things he had to settle between them first. He knew he could take her now, but he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her. When they came together, he wanted what they’d had that first, magical time. Shaking himself mentally, he turned away.

  “Why did you do it? Why the disguise?” he asked bluntly.

  Delight felt a moment’s panic. She didn’t want to talk about Martin, but she knew that on that subject Jim deserved the complete truth. “It was Martin. You saw what he tried to do tonight…”

  “Yes, I did.” His manner softened, and he wanted desperately to hold her and let her know that he would always be there to protect her, but he held back, sensing her agitation.

  “He’s wanted me ever since I returned from school to live with my mother, but I was too naive to understand what that meant. At least, I was until that night you and Ollie found me wandering the streets…”

  “Go on.” Jim understood the difficulty she was having in retelling what must have been a traumatic event in her life.

  “My mother had been ill, and I’d been caring for her.” She wrung her hands in an unconscious nervous gesture. “I was so tired, and Martin said he would sit up with Mother that night…when I woke up he was in bed with me and…”