And when she cried out his name, Ransom Duprey finally lost himself.
Chapter Eighteen
Ransom kissed the head that lay against his chest and curved his arm protectively around the lithe body intertwined with his, more than a little daunted by the powerful feelings this slender being brought forth. Idly running his fingers over her arm, he paused and frowned.
Cat blinked up at him sleepily. “What is it?"
"The scar on your arm. Is that from the cut you received when you saved my life?"
"Now you admit it! At the time you weren't very grateful," she murmured.
"I was grateful," Ransom said. "But I don't like to owe anyone."
"Or care for anyone."
"That, too," he said, grudgingly. "It comes hard for me, but not you. Love pours from you like light."
Cat examined her arm and frowned. "Does it bother you? My scar, I mean," she said.
Ransom shook his head, for she was perfect in every way. "No. I just wish you hadn't been hurt," he said, his voice turning rough with emotion.
"Good," Cat said. "Because I'm sure to have another on my leg. If I keep this up, I'll have more marks than Bull Marston."
Ransom laughed, but her casual mention of future injuries made him uneasy. She had faced far too many dangers in her young life, and he wanted to keep her safe now. His arm tightened around her as he remembered her cousin, who had reached halfway around the world to do her harm. He vowed to attend to that one - and Devlin - as soon as possible.
At this moment, the threats seem far away, but Ransom knew it was unwise to tarry here with few weapons and no clothes. "Idyllic though this spot may be, we should be gone before the sun rises," he said softly.
When he smiled down at her, Cat felt such a surge of love for him, she slipped her arms around his neck to hold him tightly. The ocean, the palms, the stars above, and the man with her made her never want to leave.
"Then again, maybe we should remain awhile longer," he whispered in her ear as she pressed against him. But instead, he helped her to her feet, and she shook the sand from her clothes before donning them quickly.
Then she plopped back down on the beach to watch Ransom at her leisure. It had been a long time since she viewed those broad shoulders shrugging into a shirt, and the moonlight added a certain grace to his movements that sent her pulse racing. Or perhaps it was her more intimate knowledge of that body which made her heart beat faster.
"Do you want to know a secret?" she asked.
In the midst of tugging on his boots, Ransom eyed her askance. "Don't tell me there are more mysteries lurking in your past." But then he leaned close to run a finger along her cheek. "Tell me all your secrets, my love," he whispered, in a voice that sent shivers dancing over her skin.
Cat swallowed hard. "I used to love watching you dress and... undress," she confessed.
Ransom lifted her chin, his expression all heat and passion. "You have my permission to indulge in that pastime as often as you wish. But for now... are you ready to go?"
At her nod, he whistled several times, bringing a handsome black stallion from the trees straight to his side. Swinging onto the animal's back, he easily lifted Cat in front of him and gave the powerful steed its head.
The next few moments were a blur while they galloped along the beach. As Cat clung to him, she remembered the last time they rode together, when Ransom saved her from Edward. It was hard to believe all that had taken place since that fortuitous meeting.
Leaning her head back against his shoulder, Cat savored this moment, with the wind in her face and her captain at her back. No matter what lay ahead, she would always have the sea and the stars, the memory of Ransom's wet body, and this wild ride.
The horse covered the ground quickly, and they soon saw the dim glow of the bonfire that signaled the privateer camp. But Ransom veered away from the beach up a gentle slope into the tall locusts.
Only then did Cat realize they were headed toward Ransom's plantation. And she stifled a gasp of surprise at the size of the place, warmly beckoning, as they moved onto a wide avenue lined with trees.
She was still blinking dazedly when they rode along the side of the house to the stables in the rear. Ransom gave the horse over to the hands of a sleepy boy and led her along a graveled path to the kitchen compound. There the silence was broken by the sound of Cat's stomach growling, and giggling like errant children, they began hunting for food.
"Bananas!" shouted Ransom in triumph, emerging from the buttery, waving a large bunch. Cat leaned back against the brick bake oven and dissolved into laughter. Dressed in sandy, rumpled clothes and clutching the fruit as if it were a great prize, he looked more a common thief than the confident captain of the Reckless.
Apparently, Cat wasn't the only person to hold such a view, for a sturdy woman in a robe and kerchief appeared in the doorway carrying a lantern in one hand and a rolling pin in the other. She had a decidedly menacing air about her, and Cat was quickly silenced.
But Ransom was undaunted. "Mrs. Banks," he said, greeting her warmly.
"Your grace!" she answered, lowering her makeshift weapon. "Begging your pardon, but I heard the noise and saw the light. Thought it might be one of those lazy bondmen stealing the food from our very mouths."
"We were just searching for a bite to eat," Ransom explained, his charm quickly working upon the older woman.
"Well, well, let me get you something then! It's a sad day when a duke has to rummage among the leavings in his own kitchens," she said. She roused a house boy to fetch some eggs and ham from the smokehouse, placed some cold muffins in front of them, and began bustling about.
If she was surprised to realize that her master's companion was a female, Mrs. Banks did not show it. In fact, Cat thought she heard the woman mutter under her breath, "Now maybe we'll see some little ones around here. About time, too."
"What's that, Mrs. Banks?" Ransom raised a brow, while looking slyly at Cat.
"Simply mentioned how I'd like to live to see your children, your grace," the cook answered, without apology or embarrassment.
"So you have said many a time," Ransom said. "And finally, your wish may soon be granted, for the beautiful Miss Amberly, whom you see before you, is going to marry me before the week is out."
Cat choked on her muffin.
"Oh, happy day!" Mrs. Banks cried, clapping her hands.
Ransom sat back, grinning.
Cat could only gape in astonishment as the man, who had once advised his cabin boy never to marry, blithely extolled the virtues of the wedded state to a rapt Mrs. Banks. Although there was much she wanted to say, Cat dared not speak in front of the older woman, so she ate without comment.
After Mrs. Banks's exit, Cat attempted to reason with Ransom over his abrupt announcement, especially since he had not consulted her. But all her protestations at the hasty plans fell on deaf ears. In his infuriatingly confident manner, Ransom claimed that he would procure the necessary license and make all the arrangements.
To Cat's argument that Amelia should attend the ceremony, Ransom said he would send for her. And he assured Cat that Amelia, Lord Claremont, Cordelia, and anyone else she wished to come could be here in a few days' time.
"But you can't just drag everyone from their homes," Cat said.
"Why not? This is my home when I am in these waters," he said. "I've not the patience to sail to the family seat. Though I would like to take you there someday."
"What family seat? Where?" Cat asked, feeling an odd sort of dismay. Only noblemen had such residences, but surely Ransom didn't intend to continue his masquerade any further. The time had come for truth between them.
"Worcester," he answered, and Cat blinked in astonishment.
She'd fallen in love with the captain of a privateer. Never once had she believed him to be a preening, arrogant aristocrat. Such men did not sneak into their own pantries or tease their servants or call grizzled sailors their friends. And yet...
Stunn
ed, Cat sat back in her chair, looking at him as though for the first time.
"You truly are a duke," she said stupidly.
"You didn't believe it?" Ransom threw back his head, filling the room with the rich sound of his laughter.
"No one from the Reckless ever addressed you as 'your grace'," Cat said, bristling. "They called you Ransom Duprey."
"Duprey is my family name. It's simpler to use aboard ship, and we've been places where it's not wise to draw attention to rank," he said. "But I assure you, my love, that despite all appearances to the contrary, I am the sixth duke of Worcester, with the estates and coat of arms to prove it."
Questions came tumbling to Cat's lips, but before she could voice them, the cook returned, fully dressed, and shooed them out. "Off with you now. The day's beginning, and it wouldn't do for the new duchess to be caught eating in the kitchens," Mrs. Banks chided Ransom. She did not have to add that Cat's unorthodox clothing would cause even more gossip.
Ransom led a thoroughly bemused Cat into the cool great house, past louvered galleries still dim in the glow of dawn and along corridors whose mahogany floors were polished to a fine sheen with coconut husks. In the east wing of the house, he threw open a gleaming door to reveal an airy bedroom furnished with an enormous bed carved with pineapples.
Suddenly, Cat was bone-tired after all her adventures and revelations. Caring only that the mattress was comfortable, she promptly sank into it, without a thought to her impending nuptials, the identity of her betrothed, or anything else.
***
Cat was awakened by a timid housemaid who claimed that the dressmaker was here, and his grace sent his compliments. Did the mistress want a bath? At the offer, Cat practically leapt from the bed. And she luxuriated in the deep brass tub for so long the poor maid practically had to drag her out of it.
After the girl produced some undergarments and a cup of chocolate, Cat met with the dressmaker, a no-nonsense lady who poked, pinned, and prodded her while saying little. Rank had its privileges, Cat discovered, for a lovely cream day dress was altered to fit her on the spot.
Dressed once again as a lady, Cat hurried into the main rooms, eager to greet Ransom properly. But when she found him in a spacious salon, he was not alone. Cat smiled politely as she was introduced to Lady Ponsonby, an enormous woman dressed in a startling purple gown and matching turban.
"Lady Ponsonby has kindly consented to stay with us until the wedding," Ransom said, lifting a brow to warn Cat to silence.
It's a good thing he did, for Cat was inclined to argue that it was too late for a chaperon - much like locking the stable door after the horse has bolted. Not to mention all the months they had spent sharing the same cabin on the Reckless. But with Ransom's brow cocked toward her, Cat mentioned none of that. Instead, she greeted Lady Ponsonby warmly and took a seat as the woman began complaining of the dull season.
"I am so thankful you are getting married," she said as she eased her huge bulk onto a couch. "A wedding is just what this island needs, although you could take the time to prepare a proper celebration," she added, giving Ransom a reproving look.
Ransom shook his head. "We want a small wedding here in the chapel, not a large event."
Lady Ponsonby snorted in disgust. "Really, your grace, you have a responsibility to society."
When Ransom did not comment, she prattled on. "Well, at least it's something! I swear I have never been more bored. Why, I was hoping the Frenchies would attack, just to provide some excitement."
"Some like the quiet to be had here," Ransom said, his lips twitching suspiciously.
"Don't talk to me of quiet, your grace," she said, snapping open her fan to use it vigorously. "Little enough you would know of quiet, racing off in your ships to rescue beautiful young ladies." Lady Ponsonby gave Cat a meaningful glance, which made her nervous. What story had Ransom told?
"I vow I am parched from this heat," the lady said, though the house obviously had been built to take advantage of the breezes. "Perhaps some lemonade? Or is tea in the offing?"
At that hint, Cat felt a measure of relief. Lady Ponsonby seemed far more interested in food and drink than the couple’s history, which suited Cat just fine. However, Cat did long for a moment alone with her betrothed and was soon wishing that her chaperon would disappear. But Lady Ponsonby made her presence felt throughout supper and made no move to retire until Cat had done so.
The next few days were maddeningly similar as Cat was unable to snatch a private moment with her captain. Either she found he'd gone to town, or she was surrounded by fitters and milliners, trotting out materials of every description until she was certain she would need an entire ship in which to store her wardrobe.
If Cat did happen to see Ransom, Lady Ponsonby was in attendance, preventing all except the most general conversation on mundane topics, which did not include her past and present relationship with the captain of the Reckless.
And each night, as she lay alone and disgruntled in her vast bed, Cat could not decide whether she was glad that Ransom was rushing the wedding so that she could be with him sooner or whether she should call off the whole thing simply to get his attention.
Just as she thought she would surely go mad, she was summoned peremptorily to his study early one morning. Startled, she glanced up from the breakfast table, but Lady Ponsonby had not yet appeared. Cat rose to her feet and followed the footman, looking over her shoulder as though at any moment she would be overcome by a horde of seamstresses or one enormous chaperon.
But the house was delightfully quiet, and no one interrupted her progress. At the door, Cat felt a tiny stab of uncertainty, as though the whirlwind marriage plans were all a dream, and when she stepped into the room, a stranger would greet her.
"Hello, stranger." The sound of that deep, rich voice sent all her worries fleeing as she found herself, for once, alone with Ransom. The bright island sun shone through the tall windows onto his shoulders, creating a soft sheen on his dark hair.
He was grinning wickedly, and whether he raised a beckoning hand, or she simply sensed his desire from across the room, a few quick paces propelled Cat into his arms. She pressed her face against his waistcoat, enjoying the feel of his arms around her after far too long.
"Miss me?" he whispered against her hair, and she laughed before raising her gaze to his. A flippant remark was on the tip of her tongue, but when she looked into those eyes, dark and intent, she answered differently.
"Yes," she said, huskily.
"I've missed you, too, my little Cat," he whispered against her ear, his lips brushing against the tender flesh there.
"The servants," Cat protested weakly as he hands traveled down the back of her thin gown to pull her against him.
"They won't disturb us," he assured her, and Cat welcomed the kisses she had been wanting. But they were not enough, and soon she was tugging at his coat while his hands roved over her. "Why do you have to wear so many clothes?" she whispered.
The sound of his sharply indrawn breath urged her on, as did the clandestine nature of their rendezvous. No slow, languid tryst on the beach was this, but a frantic coming together fuelled by need delayed. Cat gasped when he lifted her from her feet and pressed her against the wall, but it was a gasp of pleasure, all sensation heightened to a fever pitch until they both shuddered and sighed.
"Catherine? Are you in there? Your grace?" Lady Ponsonby's voice was unmistakable as it drifted through the door not far from where Cat was still wrapped in her captain's embrace. Eyes wide, she looked to Ransom in horror, but he held a finger gently to her lips.
When the door rattled loudly, Cat nearly jumped from her skin, but Ransom only grinned, reminding her of the boy who had pelted his tutor with plums.
With a loud "Humph!" Lady Ponsonby padded away, and Cat slid down Ransom's body with relief.
"I suppose I ought not to hide from her," Cat said, trying to bring order to her disheveled appearance.
Ransom grimaced. "I find all th
is propriety extremely frustrating."
"You're the one who hired her!"
"For your sake," he said, more seriously. "But I'll have word sent to her that you and I are going into town. Alone."
Cat threw her arms around him happily, and he held her close once more. "Hmm. Perhaps we should be on our way before we are well and truly caught out," he said. "But first, I have something for you."
With a smile, he turned to the desk and picked up a finely wrought silver jewel case, far more elegant than any Cat had ever seen. Inside, lying on a bed of black velvet was an emerald necklace that seemed to glow with a life of its own. Cat gasped aloud, for although stunning in itself, it was surrounded by a matching bracelet and ring.
"Here," he said softly, as he took the ring and slipped it on her finger.
His hands were warm and sure upon hers, and the face that looked down at hers was long beloved. Why, then, did she feel as though her heart would break? Perhaps because this token represented something tangible between them, far more than a fleeting morning of stolen lovemaking.
"It's beautiful," she said, in a hushed tone.
"Emeralds to match your eyes," he said. "And far more fitting than my first gift to you."
Cat eyed him askance. "But that knife saved my life."
***
They spent the rest of the day together, dining in town and seeing the sights, although oblivious to most everything except each other. Cat began to like the notion of a hasty wedding, for she would have the best of both worlds: the easy friendship they had first shared, along with the fierce attraction that had come later.
When they finally returned to the plantation house, Lady Ponsonby's complaints were brushed aside, and loudly bemoaning the lack of appreciation for her services, she went off to bed in high dudgeon. She was placated the next day, however, by the arrival of the guests - "the new blood" as she ghoulishly referred to them. Amelia, Lord Claremont, and Cordelia, looking bewildered but happy, were welcomed by Cat with open arms.
A Heart's Masquerade Page 22