"What did you think of Rene?" Ransom asked.
Although his voice was light, Cat could tell there was more to the question than there seemed. "He's very handsome and charming," she said. "But he seemed outrageous, perhaps even a trifle mad, actually."
Apparently pleased with her answer, Ransom chuckled softly, drawing her to him and resting his chin upon her head.
"I can't believe you sold the Reckless," Cat said, her arms crossing over his as she leaned into his chest.
"I have no intention of leaving your side, my love," Ransom said. "You have a tendency to attract trouble."
Ignoring his jibe, Cat turned and searched his face intently. "Are you certain you wish to part with her?"
He nodded. "I think it wise to avoid any temptation for you to return to your old ways. I doubt I could properly discharge my duties as captain with you aboard - or with you away from my protection." At his last words, his features hardened for an instant.
"So, my love, you will just have to get used to seeing a lot of me." He took her face in his hands and kissed her. "Besides, there are some things in this world that are preferable to sailing."
"Like what?" Cat whispered.
"Hmm. Let me show you," he murmured. And he lifted her off her feet and carried her to bed.
***
Rene left the following day, despite Ransom's invitation to stay.
"No, I have what I came for," he said, smiling wickedly, as he made his farewells on the steps of the plantation house.
"The Reckless," said Cat.
"No! A look at you, little Cat," he said. "It is only too bad that you did not seek employment aboard my vessel." He eyed her suggestively as he bowed low over her hand, but Cat only shook her head, smiling at his antics.
Ransom felt a sudden pang at the precarious twist of fate that had brought her to him. "Off with you then, Rene," he said, putting an arm around his wife to pull her close as the Frenchman mounted his horse.
Turning his prancing beast, Rene laughed. "What a picture of domestic bliss you make, my friend," he shouted before riding away.
"Was he mocking you?" Cat asked, but Ransom shook his head. He had noticed a trace of longing in the Frenchman's tone.
"Rene never stays in one place for long. He's always moving, perhaps in search of something he doesn't even know he's after," Ransom said, thankful that his own search was at a end.
The two made their way about the grounds, Ransom admiring his wife as she paused to pick flowers. They came to rest under a huge old locust, Ransom dropping to lie on his side, while Cat rested on her heels beside him, arranging her flowers into a bouquet.
"I have been thinking of leaving soon," Ransom said. "I have a rather foolish notion to show you Worcester," he added, plucking a blossom from her hands.
"Why foolish?"
"Because I haven't lived there in more than ten years and haven't missed it... until now."
"Have you happy memories of it?" she asked.
"Yes," Ransom said, rolling onto his back. And yet how many of them had he forgotten? "I had a wonderful nurse, Mrs. Cubbins. Everyone called her Cubby. If my mother forbade me something, I could always wheedle it out of Cubby. And if Cubby said I wasn't to toss pine cones out of the nursery window, mother could be persuaded."
"You sound like hideously spoiled boy."
"I was," Ransom admitted. "But whenever father discovered one of my plots, I was given a sound thrashing. Like the time he caught me playing ninepins in the long gallery."
"No!"
"Well, it wouldn't have been so bad, but I was using his giant chess pieces as pins," Ransom said, surprising himself. "I had forgotten that."
"What happened to Cubby?"
"She died not long after I was out of the nursery. Mother had kept her on because she was like one of the family. Mother kept saying I might someday have a brother or sister who would need Cubby. I had a brother who died in infancy, but there were never any others."
"And your parents?"
"They were killed in a fire shortly after Cubby died," he said, focusing on the clouds above, but seeing into the past. "They were visiting father's brother. It was an inferno that wiped out the Dupreys in a single night, except for me. I had refused to go because of some childish spat over my cousins."
Ransom blinked against the bright sun. "I can't even remember now, but I know my father and I had quite a row, and they left without me. I can still see my mother leaning out of the coach, whispering to me to be good and she would make things right with my father by they time they returned."
"That's why Bert said you were reluctant to care for anyone," Cat said.
Ransom turned onto his side. It seemed ridiculous now, but he had shunned neighbors, friends, any who reached out to help a grieving young boy. And he'd continued to keep people away... until now. "Bert was surprised when I developed a fondness for my cabin boy," he admitted.
"Thankfully, he was unaware that I was in love with you," Cat said.
"I wish you would have let me know," Ransom said.
"With your views on women?" Cat asked, emitting a familiar snort. "I think not." She peeked at him under golden lashes. "Am I boring?"
"Ha!" Ransom laughed. "Anything but, my love. Anything but," he assured her as he took her in his arms.
Chapter Twenty
They left for England soon after Rene's visit, for Ransom was impatient to return, so much so that Cat wondered if something the Frenchman had said spurred him to action. But she was eager to see her new home and boarded her old ship in high spirits.
However, she soon found that her voyage on the Reckless was not the same, now that she was the captain's wife and not his cabin boy. The sense of adventure and belonging she had known before seemed to have disappeared with her breeches.
Of course, her skirts would have hampered any climbs into the rigging, but that was just as well because Bert vetoed such activities immediately, claiming that he would lose several years of his life if she "scrambled around up there again."
Cat, too, had changed. The food, the water, and the odors seemed more objectionable than before. She had developed a new appreciation for personal hygiene, and her tolerance for certain members of the crew who did not share her enthusiasm became sorely strained.
"Now I understand why Amelia never travels," she told her husband. "After living in a garden, the shock of a long voyage would kill her."
Still, Cat fell into her old relationships with Bert and some of her other friends among the crew, including Harry, who finally unbent. And she had to admit that the sleeping arrangements were vastly improved, for she far preferred sharing Ransom's bed to her old hammock. More importantly, it was a relief to be able to love her captain openly, no longer a prisoner of her disguise or her desire, and to have her feelings returned.
As she stood beneath the stars, listening to the ship sounds that had once meant home to her, Cat knew that as much as she would treasure her experiences here, there was no going back, and that each step in life must be forward.
She thought of Wellshire, which was in the past, as well, and no longer felt any desire to return there. Abruptly, she realized that she'd all but forgotten about Edward in her blissful time with Ransom. And that was as it should be. But what of justice?
"What are you thinking about?" Ransom asked.
"The settling of scores," she answered. "Do you still seek Devlin?"
"Yes," he said, with cool determination. "He's the one who ordered your kidnapping, and I would prevent another attempt."
"What of Edward?" Cat asked.
"I'm sure your cousin was involved in some way, but Devlin took it upon himself to set the scheme in motion."
"Do you know where he is?"
"I have a general idea," Ransom said.
His hard tone discouraged further probing, so Cat fell silent, hugging her arms tightly around her in an effort to ward off a sense of foreboding. Although she was wary of future threats, she did not like the ide
a of Ransom pursuing this Devlin, especially if the man were anything like his minion Blakely. Remembering all too well the evil lurking under that one's mild exterior, Cat shivered in the darkness.
"Of course, we must deal with Edward, too," Ransom said. "Or do you imagine that he has lost interest in your demise?"
"Now that I am the wife of a prominent nobleman, Edward would be wise to leave me alone."
"Hmm." Although Ransom only grunted in response, his disagreement was apparent. "You are willing to let his crimes go unpunished?"
"You said it would be difficult to prove he murdered my stepfather," Cat said. "If you think he can be held responsible, then let us do so. Otherwise, I would like to forget his very existence."
"I'm afraid I cannot dismiss him so easily," Ransom said. "He is a threat to you."
There was no mistaking the intent in Ransom's words. And for a few moments nothing broke the quiet except the flapping of the sails and the creaking of the ship as Cat tried to think of some way to dissuade her husband from his course.
"But enough of this," he said in a lighter tone. "It is too beautiful a night to talk of revenge." He pulled her into his arms, and Cat pressed her cheek against his chest.
Yet she was unable to calm her disquiet. She did not like the idea of Ransom pursuing two dangerous men, but when she opened her mouth to argue, his lips stopped her protest. And soon the warmth of his body chased away her lingering chill.
***
By the time they reached England, Cat had forgotten about their enemies. Indeed, the sight of Worcester Hall, the ancestral home of the Dupreys, was enough to drive all else from her mind.
Crafted of pale rose brick, its many-windowed facade rose more than three stories to a high roof where chimneys towered still higher. As they drew closer, Cat saw innumerable gabled windows jutting from the roof, and before the stately mansion, lining the steps that led from either side of the massive doors, a staff the size of a small village waited to greet the return of the long-absent duke and his bride.
"This is where we are to live?" Cat asked. Her own country manor seemed like a cottage in comparison.
Ransom lifted a dark brow. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."
"I'm sure it's not as intimidating when you have played ninepins in the gallery," Cat said in a wry tone.
"If it will put you at ease, I'll be happy to join you in a game," Ransom said. "We can even use the same chess set that I did, although I believe my father locked it away after it received such abuse."
Cat almost assented, for it was clear that a month of joking and dicing with a group of grizzled sailors had not prepared her for her new role as duchess. Ransom's servants took their positions seriously, and Cat would have to behave accordingly.
She claimed she needed a map to find her way around the house, and when Ransom laughed, she didn't have the heart to tell him she wasn't joking. As he led her up the grand staircase with its carved balusters, past the family portraits lining the walls, Cat told herself she need only to know the location of the bedroom and the dining hall.
Finding her bedroom was easy enough, as it opened off of Ransom's enormous room, as well as the infamous long gallery. And the next morning she even managed to find her way down to breakfast. But something in her husband's expression brought back all her concerns.
"What is it?" she asked.
Ransom smiled, making light of her worries. "I hate to leave you here alone, but I have some business that I must attend to immediately."
Cat's foreboding returned. "What sort of business?" she asked, suspiciously.
"The transfer of the Reckless, for one thing," he said. "It shouldn't take long."
Cat felt some measure of relief, for how could he chase after Devlin with no vessel? However, Ransom could be intent upon a confrontation with her cousin. Although her husband was Edward's superior in every way, Cat did not like the idea of him going off alone into a threatening situation.
But surely he would tell her of his plans? Cat eyed him closely, and seeing nothing amiss, she felt a guilty for doubting his word. Her captain was a real duke, with the responsibilities that came with such a title, and she knew he had businesses to run, as well. Yet somehow, she'd thought any traveling would include her.
"Can't I come along?" Cat asked, annoyed at how piteous her question sounded.
Ransom reached for her hand. "Not this time, my love, but every other."
Refusing to beg, Cat sent him on his way with good grace, but as she watched him ride away, her heart lurched in her chest.
***
Although he hated to leave his bride, Ransom wanted to make certain that she had a long and happy life with him, and to that end, he sought her cousin. Ransom had already set some of his men to the task of discovering Devlin's whereabouts, with the hope of taking care of his enemy once and for all. But in the meantime, he intended to make sure there would be no further trouble from the baron of Wellshire.
Ransom did not tell his wife his intentions, for he knew she would try to talk him out of his plans, or, at the very least, insist upon coming with him. And he had no intention of taking her anywhere near either villain when both seemed intent upon doing her harm.
But the baron was not at Wellshire, and Ransom spent precious time following his trail to London. He finally ran the man down at the Blue Ruin, a rather unsavory gaming hell.
His waistcoat unbuttoned and his cravat askew, Cat’s cousin was slouched over a chair at the faro table, where he could claim nothing but losses. Although Rene had warned him, Ransom was surprised at how low the man had sunk.
"Wellshire?" Ransom asked.
"What wants to know?" the baron said, belligerently.
"Worcester," Ransom answered coolly. "I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you.
"I'm busy," the baron drawled.
"I'm afraid it cannot wait," Ransom said. He leaned toward Wellshire, who was ignoring him to watch the turn of the cards. "If you wish to talk here, that is your choice, but listen carefully. You will leave your cousin alone, effective immediately."
"I don't know what you're talking about, you drunk," the baron mumbled, starting to rise from his chair. Ransom's lips curled, and he grasped the younger man's wrist in a deadly grip, forcing him back into this seat.
"I do not have the desire to end your wretched existence as yet, but I can be persuaded." He spoke softly, without the heat of anger, but with cool conviction. "Ah, I see I have captured your interest. Good. You may forget whatever agreement you have with Devlin because he is not long for this world, and you will not be either, if you persist in pursuing Catherine."
Ransom's words must have penetrated the man’s dulled senses, for he blinked in surprise.
"Yes, the game is up," Ransom said. "I would advise you to crawl back into whatever hole you came from, for your days as a gentleman are numbered. You see, we frown on those who murder one of our own."
The baron paled. "You can't prove anything," he said.
"Perhaps." Ransom shrugged. "It really doesn't matter because I have the money and power to ruin you, whether you are charged or not. And make no mistake. If you seek her out, you will see no courtroom or prison, for I will kill you myself."
"What the hell is she to you?" the man asked.
"She is my wife," Ransom said as he rose from his chair, leaving the baron to gape after him.
Exiting the gambling den, Ransom nodded to a figure in the shadows, who would keep an eye on Cat’s cousin, just in case he did not hold to their bargain. The man seemed incapable of much at this point in his life, and if he continued with his current dissipations, he was likely to end up dead through no one's doing but his own. But Ransom would take no chances.
Then he turned his attention to Devlin, a far more clever and dangerous opponent. His promise to Wellshire had not been an idle one. He had spent a lot of time considering what course to follow with his old enemy. And the time for parrying and parley was over.
He certainly had enough accusations - and even hard evidence gathered over the years - to turn the man over to the authorities. If Devlin did not swing from a rope for his crimes, he would spend a long time behind bars.
But would that eliminate the threat Devlin had become? Although Ransom wasn't concerned about himself, he had to think of Cat and the family they hoped to raise. Many a foul plot could be hatched from inside prison walls, and there were always those willing to carry out another's plans for a price.
Ransom could not imagine that Devlin, having nursed his hatred so long, would lose interest in the Dupreys. So no matter how he considered the problem, Ransom could see only one possible solution.
Devlin must die.
***
Testing the butler's patience, Cat asked him for the third time this morning if any letters had arrived. The look he gave her was a testament to his stoicism, and Cat sighed and thanked him. The last few days had stretched on interminably, and today seemed the worst of the lot.
After Ransom's sudden departure, Cat took to the stables and rode, discovering with pleasure the beauty of the ducal lands as she began calling upon her husband's tenants. It was still hard for her to comprehend that the thick forests, lush green hillsides, and farmlands leading down to the Wye all belonged to her captain. And she smiled to herself to think she had once believed him a masquerader with only ill-gotten gains to his credit.
She enjoyed calling on the tenants, who welcomed her with open arms, hopeful that a Worcester would once again take up residence. And she was thrilled to ride again, enjoying the freedom to race over the grassy slopes.
However, her thoughts were never totally free of Ransom, and even though she kept busy, she fretted over his absence. No matter how luxurious, the family seat was new to her, and the staff and neighbors were strangers.
Then the rain started, a gloomy, constant drizzling guaranteed to dampen anyone's spirits, especially someone as lonely as Cat. Since the weather kept her indoors, she took the opportunity to meet with the servants in an effort to take the reins of organization.
She met hostile faces with graciousness and friendly greetings with grateful warmth. But her new position came with certain constraints, and she could not befriend these people as she once had those few at Wellshire.
A Heart's Masquerade Page 24