Reed's eyebrow rose in an arch as he smiled wickedly. “Meaning I can ‘paw’ Mama all I want as long as I do it privately?”
Kathleen’s green eyes glowed as she ran her tongue provocatively across her lips before she answered. “Precisely.”
Reed mentally undressed her as his eyes roved over her curved body. “And what will Mama be doing while Daddy is busy with all this ‘pawing’?” he drawled suggestively.
Struggling to keep a sober face, she answered simply, “Tickling.”
“Tickling?” he echoed, his tone definitely devilish, his eyes burning into her.
Kathleen nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “Tickling.”
Adrea giggled delightedly, recalling their attention to her presence. “I like tickling,” she announced decisively.
“I think I do too,” Reed laughed softly. Over his small daughter’s head he grinned at Kathleen, who somehow managed to retain her composure and return his look with a serene and confident smile.
Katlin, too, came in for his share of attention from his father. At nineteen months, he was a lively, chubby-cheeked imp; half angel, half elf, with a wide, dazzling smile exactly like Reed’s. The cuddly toddler had everyone wrapped securely about his pudgy fingers, most especially Reed. It still stunned Reed every time he looked into the small face so much like his own; the dancing blue eyes were a perfect match for his; the same midnight black hair, with that unruly lock falling across his forehead. It made Reed feel almost immortal and so proud he could burst. He could hardly wait until Katlin was old enough to come with him on his rounds of the plantation. Already Reed was anxious to teach him to ride his first pony, to fish, to hunt, to sail.
“But first he has to get out of diapers and into perpetually dry breeches,” Reed thought wryly, handing Katlin over to Della and wiping ineffectually at the unsightly wet spot left on his own trousers. Katlin was undoubtedly adorable and charming, but definitely a hazard at this stage.
It seemed Reed had only gotten home when he was off again. He’d stayed for four days. Regardless of how busy Kathleen kept, the November days dragged by.
Barbara invited Kathleen and Isabel to her home for Thanksgiving dinner. Mary Taylor was going to be there, as well as Susan and Ted. The previous year everyone had gone to Susan’s, and the year before to Chimera. This year, with Reed gone and Susan so near her due date, Barbara had decided to host the holiday feast. At first Kathleen declined, and Barbara was hurt, thinking her niece had refused the invitation because Amy was coming from Augusta with her husband, Martin Harper.
Barbara’s only daughter, Amy, had years ago set her cap for Reed, and when Kathleen had first arrived in Savannah, Amy had bristled immediately. Amy was livid with jealousy, and right from their first meeting, Kathleen and she had resented one another.
But then Martin Harper had come to Savannah. The young Augustan gentleman was much taken with Amy’s blond, blue-eyed beauty, but he refused to worship at her feet as so many had before him. Gently, but firmly, Martin took her in hand, and before anyone could quite believe the change in her, they were married and had gone to live on his plantation in Augusta.
Amy and Martin had only been back to Savannah a half dozen times since their wedding three and a half years before. Now they were coming to stay until after Christmas if the war allowed, and Barbara was delighted. It wasn’t until Mary Taylor shed some light on the situation that she understood Kathleen’s reluctance to accept her invitation.
“Oh, Barbara! Surely you don’t think Kathleen still resents Amy!” Mary exclaimed in surprise.
“Why else would she refuse?” Barbara asked.
“I would imagine she feels she should spend the holiday with her grandmother,” Mary suggested quietly, her gentle brown eyes silently rebuking her friend. “I don’t suppose it crossed your mind to think of inviting Kate.”
Barbara’s hands flew to her face in dismay. “Of course! Oh, how stupid of me!” Her light blue eyes, so like Amy’s, were full of embarrassed regret. Though the Bakers and Kate O’Reilly were both related to Kathleen on opposite sides of her family, their English and Irish backgrounds were at odds. For years they had resided in the same town, attended most of the same functions, and never admitted any family ties until after Kathleen had moved to Savannah. Now Barbara realized that she had unwittingly slighted Kathleen by her thoughtlessness, and she vowed to set things right. She addressed an invitation to Kate O’Reilly and sent it immediately by messenger, then repeated her invitation to Kathleen. Upon learning that Kate had also been asked to attend, Kathleen accepted. Barbara was relieved, hopeful that Mary was right in believing there would be no hard feelings between Kathleen and Amy when they met once again.
Amy surprised everyone by arriving unexpectedly and quite undeniably pregnant. Her bulging body made her petite height seem even shorter. Martin was touchingly protective of her; understandably so, since Amy had miscarried the year before. She seemed healthy enough now, however, and happily expecting the arrival of their first child sometime toward the end of January. Consequently, their visit would be extended until after Amy had recovered from childbirth.
Martin was eager to hear any and all news of the war from his brother and father-in-law. If it had not been for Amy’s condition, he admitted he would have left the plantation in his father’s care and gone off to Tennessee to join Andrew Jackson’s troops, now busily fighting the Creek Indians whom the English had incited to war. As it was, he had to content himself with joining the local militia.
Kathleen shook her head in a mixture of amazement and amusement. It seemed every remaining man in Georgia wore the same frustrated expression as Martin. They all resembled small boys who had just been told that Christmas had been cancelled. While she understood only too well their yearning to participate, the more realistic side of her knew exactly what they were missing—which none of them did.
Kathleen knew both the taste of victory, and that of fear. She’d experienced both during her pirating days.
Fighting was not the glory they imagined it to be. It was dirt, smoke and fire; the clash of metal against metal, will against wit. It was the feel of flesh giving way to steel, the stench of sweat and blood, the cries of wounded and dying men about you. No, battle was not all glorious banners waving proudly in the breeze and victorious songs and parades of smartly dressed soldiers. Kathleen’s heart cried out silently in a prayer for Reed’s safe return.
December brought with it the usual onslaught of festivities. By now the effect of the blockade was being felt more severely. Unable to obtain current fashion guides from Europe, ladies made new gowns from old patterns, if they were fortunate enough to find material to work with. With a sigh of regret, old bonnets were brought forth to be worn yet another year.
Food supplies were grown locally, and most families had prudently put up enough to see them through for some time. Many holiday recipes underwent revisions, however, when certain ingredients were unavailable, spices in particular. Holiday gifts were mostly homemade this year for the same reason. From time to time, a ship slipped through the blockade and found its way to Savannah port, but with less and less frequency.
The militia continued to drill regularly and ammunition was hoarded, awaiting a British attack. The ladies’ auxiliaries had been rolling bandages and collecting medical supplies in church basements for months.
With most of the holiday festivities held in Savannah itself, Kathleen now spent most of her time in the city. Time lay heavy on her hands, and she was beginning to loathe attending functions without Reed beside her. But for the sake of Isabel, Kate and the children, she smothered her anxieties and lack of enthusiasm, putting on a smiling face for the benefit of friends and family.
One function she thoroughly enjoyed was the Christmas pageant which both Andrea and Katlin participated in. All the children were so adorable in their costumes, and if they sometimes forgot their lines, they were immediately forgiven amidst smiles and smothered chuckles from the audience.<
br />
Alexandrea portrayed an angel which Kathleen thought was in direct contrast to her oft-times stubborn attitude. As she sat listening to the sweet, pure tones of their little voices raised in song, Kathleen forgot her worries for the moment and lost herself in the joy of the season. Teddy Baker had won the coveted part of one of the three wise men. As he lisped his way through his solitary line, his turban fell down across one eye, and he pushed it up again with an exaggerated sigh. The audience winced in unison as the little girl playing Mary dropped the Christ child doll on its porcelain head, but she plucked the baby up and went on as if nothing untoward had happened. Katlin, because of his limited vocabulary, was given the role of a lamb. Soon bored, he fell asleep and had to be awakened at the conclusion of the program and carried home in his fleecy costume to be put to bed.
Waddling valiantly through the pre-Christmas festivities in her advanced pregnancy, Susan drew Kathleen’s full sympathy. Her soft grey eyes looked out from her puffy face in serene resignation, and she hardly ever complained, though her feet and ankles were swollen and painful. Her stomach preceded her like an advance guard; even Amy, due a mere month later, was not nearly as uncomfortable as Susan.
In an effort to help her sister-in-law, Kathleen took Teddy back with her to Barbara’s. Andrea and Katlin were overjoyed with his company, and for once the children decided to behave and play well together. Mary stayed with Susan and took over running the household, trying her best to keep Ted calm at the same time. One would think he had never gone through all this before, so nervous was he. He worried and fussed constantly over his bulging wife, driving everyone around him nearly crazy in the process.
Ted reminded Kathleen of Reed when she had been carrying Alexandrea. Reed had pampered her and hovered over her until she thought she would pull her hair out— or perhaps his. When Andrea had finally decided to be born, Reed had almost missed her birth in his mad dash to fetch the doctor. He’d barely returned in time, so quickly did his daughter make her entrance into the world. The fact that Kathleen had presented him with a daughter instead of a son mattered not at all; he lavished praise and love on both his precious ladies. . . .
Chapter 7
Exactly a week before Christmas, Susan went into labor— and labor it was! For twenty hours she struggled in immense pain. Ted was in nearly as bad shape as she. He prowled and paced in the downstairs parlor, pale and shaken, as William consoled him with sage fatherly advice which Ted barely heard. At long last, his baby daughter was born. Despite her ordeal, Susan met him with a tired smile as he took his first peek at Mariana Noelle Baker, just minutes old in her mother’s arms.
Not knowing whether Reed would be home in time for Christmas, Kathleen went hopefully about the business of preparing gifts for everyone. There were toys and clothes and candy for the children. She’d found material in the attic at Chimera for a new dress for Isabel and a shawl for Kate. With much concentration and sore, pricked fingers, she’d remodeled and redecorated two exquisite bonnets for Mary and Susan. Her artistic talents amazed even herself as she made a door wreath for Barbara and Uncle William and a dried flower arrangement in a cut-glass vase for Amy and Martin. For Ted she managed to find a bottle of vintage wine in Chimera’s well-stocked cellars.
One of their ships came in unexpectedly, bringing needed goods and a few more luxurious items, but no news of Reed. Kathleen managed to acquire, at great expense, a new bolt of wine-colored velvet, from which she made Reed a warm robe, trimmed in matching satin from one of her old dresses. Just enough material was left to fashion slippers to go with it. Also from the ship’s cache she obtained a gold watch chain and a magnificent ruby stickpin.
These she wrapped lovingly in hopes that Reed would be home to receive them soon. Again she was spending the holiday at Barbara’s, though she’d made sure each of the servants at Chimera would receive baskets of fruit and food and the gold coins she and Reed always gave each of them at Christmas.
Late Christmas Eve found Kathleen staring solemnly into the flames of the slowly dying Yule log. Hours before, the entire family had attended Christmas Eve services at church, returning to drink punch and sing carols. Now they’d all retired, leaving the house silent and dark as Kathleen sat alone, snuggled against the fluffy pillows in the corner of the divan. The clock on the mantel chimed three times, and Kathleen sighed softly, two fat tears spilling from her shimmering emerald eyes. A shudder ran through her, and she hugged her arms tightly about her, as if to contain the pain of loneliness for Reed lancing through her. She closed her eyes and more tears forced their way past her lashes, wetting her cheeks in a growing stream. As if her tears had opened a floodgate, Kathleen found herself unable to control the sobs that shook her frame, and she turned her face into the pillows to stifle the sound of her crying.
How long she had wallowed in her private misery, she could not tell, but suddenly she felt strong arms enfolding her. Her mind must be playing tricks on her, for the deep male voice crooning softly over the noise of her sobbing sounded like Reed’s. As she was pressed against a broad, protective chest, she blinked hard to clear the tears from her eyes. When she finally dared to raise her gaze, she thought she must indeed be dreaming, for the face she beheld above hers was Reed’s. Warm blue eyes scanned her features as if starved for the sight of her. She blinked once more, but when she raised her wet lashes, the vision remained, and it was Reed’s voice softly saying her name over and over again as he gathered her close to him.
“Oh, Reed,” she whispered on a shuddering sigh. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming! Please tell me you are really here, holding me in your arms!”
“I’m really here, sweetheart, and so glad to be holding you again. I can’t begin to tell you the trouble I’ve had trying to get home for Christmas, and I’m so sorry if I’m the cause of all those tears making green seas of your eyes.”
“I don’t care—it’s all right,” she stammered. “You are here at last, safe and sound, and I’m so happy to see you I could cry all over again!” She sniffed loudly and scrubbed at her cheeks with her hands, a joyous smile lighting her face. With a rueful look, she brushed her hair back. “Would you happen to have a handkerchief in your pocket?”
Reed laughed heartily, hugging her to him again briefly before producing the needed handkerchief. “Here, imp. Blow your nose and mop your tears. I don’t want you getting us both wet and sloppy when I kiss you, which I am dying to do as soon and as thoroughly as possible.”
Their reunion on the divan lasted only long enough for the heat of their passion to rage hotter than the embers in the fireplace. Sanity restored itself momentarily, and they realized that they could not make love in the middle of Barbara’s parlor, where anyone could walk in on them.
They retired to Kathleen’s bedroom, and as Reed shut the door, he looked around and his eyes lit with deviltry. “I see Barbara put you in your old room. If memory serves me correctly, one of the last times I made love to you in this room, your Uncle William burst in on us under very embarrassing circumstances, indeed!”
Kathleen’s eyes narrowed warningly. “You just can’t help but gloat, can you, Reed? Nothing thrilled you more than seeing me forced to admit our marriage after I'd kept it a secret for so long.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say nothing has thrilled me more,” Reed corrected with a grin, “but it definitely ranks high on my list.” He crossed to her and pulled her tightly to him. “I want the world to know you belong to me.”
His eyes dared her to object, and when she silently melted against him, his lips claimed hers in a hard, possessive kiss that stole her breath.
“I’ll always belong to you, my love,” she whispered. “You’ve captured my heart, and I cannot ransom it back.”
The late hour and their weariness was forgotten as together they rediscovered the pathway of passion. His hands and lips mapped the route, and her body followed his lead gladly. Long awaited pleasures were theirs at last, and the months of loneliness fell away under
a more urgent longing. Their bodies strained toward a new closeness, as if to become one in body as well as in heart and spirit. When they finally rode high upon rapture’s brilliant rainbow, their joy was complete, their love a bright and shining star in the heavens.
Wrapped once more in the arms she’d longed for, Kathleen was peaceful and ready for sleep, but there was so much to tell him and so much she wanted to know. In quiet whispers, Reed highlighted his trip briefly. She told him news of the family, of Susan’s new baby, and the gifts she’d arranged for the children’s Christmas. It was nearly time to get up before they finally closed their eyes and slept.
Alexandrea and Katlin were overjoyed to discover their father home when they came bounding into Kathleen’s bedroom early that morning. Eager to begin unwrapping their gifts, they bounced up and down on the bed, prying open sleepy lids and squealing into their parents’ ears to arouse them.
With a pitiful groan, Kathleen drew the covers over her head. “What time is it?” she croaked sleepily.
With an unsympathetic grin, Reed grabbed the covers back down. “Time to spread Christmas joy, Mama dear. Rise and shine!”
Della arrived to usher the children out of the room, and Reed, now dressed, tugged the covers down to Kat’s toes. Shivering, she reached for her robe in bleary-eyed defeat. “Alright, you monster! I’m getting up.” She eyed him with rueful disgust. “How can you be so cheerful and wide awake?” she complained.
He planted a quick kiss on her pouting lips. “Because it’s Christmas, I’m with my family, and Andrea and Katlin wouldn’t let us sleep if our lives depended on it right now. So, my dear, you’d better get dressed and face the day. I’ll see you downstairs.” He left smiling contentedly, and Kathleen could hear him whistling merrily as he went down the stairs.
Ashes and Ecstasy Page 10