Siren's Song

by Constance O'Banyon

  She pretended haughtiness. "I have become attached to these boots," she mused. "They took me into sea battles, across swamps, and most importantly, 1 wore them at my wedding. How can I part with them now?"

  Judah touched her pert little nose with his finger. "You are incorrigible, Mrs. Gallant. I wonder if Boston is ready for you."

  Ethan appeared beside them. "Well, Judah, we are home."

  "Thank God. There were times when I thought we would be blown out of the water or transported to France to be hung." He smiled down at his wife. "I surely never expected to return with a sea siren."

  Tom came up beside Dominique, and she linked her arm through his, while his rough face relaxed in a broad smile. "Welcome to your new home, Dominique," he said in a gruff voice. Even now he called her by her familiar name, and no one thought anything of it. He had earned the right.

  "Yes, home," she said reverently.

  The three men who loved her, all in their different ways, stood about her, ever ready to keep her from any harm that should befall her.

  Light from many tapers reflected on the highly polished table as Dominique entered the house on Bowdoin Square.

  "Judah," she said turning about in a circle. "It's lovely. It will be hard to imagine you in these surroundings, and not stalking the deck, issuing orders."

  "I am pleased that you like it. I was born here, as was my father."

  "Did you . . . bring Mary here to live?" she could not help, but ask.

  "No, She never liked this house. She wanted a bigger one—grander, so I built it for her."

  "Will we live here?"

  "Do you want to?"

  "Oh yes. I will love living in the house where you were born."

  At that moment, Mrs. Whitworth entered, looking startled, and then her face flushed with pleasure. "Captain, I did not know you were home." She looked from Judah to the woman beside him, waiting to know who she was. "I would have had the cook prepare all your favorite dishes, had we known you were coming."

  "Mrs. Whitworth, I want you to meet your new mistress. Dominique, Mrs. Whitworth has been in this house longer than I have, and you will find her very capable."

  The housekeeper's plump face lit from within. "Oh, Mrs. Gallant, I am so pleased to welcome you. If there is anything I can do for you, anything you require, you have only to ask."

  Dominique held her hand out and clasped the woman's plump fingers. "You can help me and instruct me. You see, I am new to this country and I do not know all the customs. I will need you to keep me from making mistakes."

  Nothing she could have said would have endeared her more to the older woman. The warm glow in the captain's eyes told Mrs. Whitworth all she needed to know. The captain was happy at last, and that was enough for her.

  Mrs. Whitworth smiled her welcome. "Madame, I will do all I can."

  Dominique could not have been happier. She met each day with eagerness and looked forward to the nights when she would lie in her husband's arms.

  The only thing that kept her from being completely happy was the absence of her brother. She waited each day to hear some word of Valcour, but up to now, there had been nothing.

  Judah had generously showered her with gifts, jewels, and clothing, the likes of which she had never seen. He had kept his word about the shoes, and she had every color and style imaginable. However, she could not bear to part with her brown boots, and they had been tucked away in a trunk.

  The best gift of all, however, was a white Arabian mare with an impressive bloodline.

  The morning was warmer than it had been, but the sky was overcast. Dominique thought it might rain, but she was unconcerned as she rode beside Judah.

  Dressed in a burgundy, three-pile velvet riding habit, Dominique set a steady pace on the high-stepping mare. Judah kept even with her on his great striding gelding.

  After a time, Dominique slowed the thundering gallop to a smart, sidestepping canter. She patted the neck of the horse in delight. "Judah, she is wonderful!"

  It brought him joy to see her so happy. "I'm glad you like her," he said. "She suits you."

  Dominique glanced through the bare trees at the strange-looking sky. "I am nervous about the tea I am to attend this afternoon. I do not know these people. I wish you were coming with me."

  "Your hostess is Ethan's mother, a most admirable woman. You will find her as kind-hearted as her son. And as for me attending, I do not believe any man would be welcome—it being a lady's gathering."

  Suddenly Dominique stared about her, her eyes filled with wonder. She removed her glove and held out her hand. "Is this snow?" she asked, watching the flakes melt as they hit the warmth of her hand.

  Judah looked at her with astonishment. "I take it you have never seen snow before?"

  "In books."

  She slid off her horse and held her arms out as the flakes drifted down, heavier now. "This is magic!" she exclaimed. "And so beautiful."

  She raised her head, opened her mouth, and caught a snowflake on her tongue. When she saw that her footsteps made tracks in the newly fallen snow, she spun around in a circle as if embracing the phenomenon.

  For a moment, Judah could only stare at her, thinking he had never seen anything as lovely or as innocent as Dominique. If asked to, he could not have spoken for the tightening in his throat. He leaned forward, propped his leg across his horse and just watched her.

  She gathered a bit of snow, tossing it up, and allowing it to shower down on her.

  At last, she turned to smile at him and paused, embarrassed, when she found him watching her so intently. "It's just that I . . . well it's so beautiful. It's my first snow."

  With as much dignity as she could gather, she moved toward her horse. "I suppose we should go now."

  Judah jumped down and helped her mount. "I am constantly amazed by your outlook on life. You are teaching me to see everything in a new way."

  She looked at him sideways, straightening her back. "You did not enjoy the snow."

  "Ah, but I did." He handed her the reins and mounted himself. "Next time, I'll teach you about snowball fights."

  Ethan's mother was soft-spoken and gracious as she greeted Dominique at the door. "My dear, I am so glad to meet you. I have heard nothing but praise about you from Ethan. Come in and meet our friends. They have been quite anxious to make your acquaintance."

  "Thank you for giving a tea in my honor," Dominique said. "It was most thoughtful of you."

  Mrs. Graham's face took on a grave expression, and she looked worried. "I. . . feel I should explain something to you. I did not invite her, but she came anyway."

  "So," a chilling voice spoke up from behind Dominique. "This is Judah's little wife."

  Dominique smiled hesitantly, not understanding the reason for the woman's obvious hostility. "How do you do, Madame? Yes, I am Mrs. Gallant."

  Dominique waited for Mrs. Graham to introduce the other woman, and when she did not, the woman introduced herself.

  "I am Nedra Banks," she said guardedly.

  The name meant nothing to Dominique. "It was nice of you to come," she said, trying to be friendly, but she could feel something dark and disturbing from this woman, whose smile on her lips did not reach her eyes.

  "Come, my dear," Mrs. Graham said, and it was obvious that she was trying to get Dominique away from the woman called Nedra.

  "You do not even know who I am, do you?" Nedra Banks asked angrily.

  Dominique turned to her, confused by her strange attitude. "Yes, you said you are Nedra Banks. Mrs. or Miss, I do not know that."

  They entered the formal sitting room, and the voices of the other guests dropped in tone. But Dominique had heard someone say that Nedra should not be there, and she wondered why.

  Dominique was introduced to the others, who seemed genuinely friendly, but she could feel eyes boring into her, and every time she looked up, she found Nedra staring at her.

  The tea had become an uncomfortable affair, although Dominique could not unde
rstand why. When it was time to leave, and her carriage arrived, she was not sorry.

  "You aren't leaving us so soon, are you?" Nedra asked, catching Dominique at the door, where she was slipping into her fur-lined cape.

  "Yes, my husband will be waiting."

  She could not have said anything that would have angered the woman more.

  "My sister, Mary, will always be the wife of Judah's heart. I cannot think why he married you."

  There were gasps from several ladies, and Ethan's mother rushed to Dominique's defense. "Nedra, you will leave my house this moment unless you apologize to Dominique."

  Nedra paid no attention to her hostess because her eyes were on Dominique. "Who is your family?" Nedra asked pointedly, and everyone knew she was trying to embarrass Judah's wife. "My sister, Mary, was a Claborne of Boston."

  Dominique wore a placid expression. "I am not certain what you mean."

  Harsh laughter emitted from Nedra's throat. "I will make it clear enough so that even you will understand," she said in a condescending voice. "Were you upper or lower class—judging from your appearance, I'd say lower."

  "Let us just say I am not in your class," Dominique answered with dignity. She moved to the door and turned back to Ethan's mother. "Thank you for the lovely tea, Mrs. Graham. Judah and I would like very much to have your family dine with us soon."

  "You have not answered my question," Nedra said relentlessly.

  Judah was standing in the doorway with another man, and they both heard the venomous grilling. Judah took a step to defend his wife, but the stranger placed a hand on his arm and emerged from the shadows.

  The stranger had realized that the woman was attempting to hurt Dominique—and he would never allow that. "Permit me to do this," he told Judah.

  Then he advanced into the room. "I believe that I should be the one to tell you about Dominique, since I know her better than anyone."

  Everyone's attention was on the newcomer, for his presence was electrifying. He was obviously a man of breeding and culture, as well as handsome beyond belief.

  "Dominique," he continued, "comes from a long and proud line of French and English aristocracy, although she would never tell you this herself. Alas, most of her family lost their lives to the French guillotine, so she would never parade their rank before you."

  Dominique spun around with tears in her eyes and flung herself into the stranger's arms. "Oh, Valcour, Valcour, I feared you were dead! God has brought you back to me."

  Valcour hugged his sister and laughed. "God and the American navy. Imagine my surprise when an American warship came alongside the English ship I had boarded and demanded that I come with them."

  He held her to him as he looked back at the woman who had been persecuting his sister. "Madame," he said contemptuously, "just so there will never be any question, if Dominique but chose to flaunt her rank, she could have told you that she is the sister of the Marquis de Charbonneau."

  Judah's eyes widened at this bit of news. He wondered why Dominique had never mentioned a title to him.

  Nedra's face was drained of color as she stared at the handsome man with the eloquent manners, who was eyeing her with such disdain. "Who are you?"

  "I am Dominique's brother." He bowed and tempered his impatience with tolerance. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Marquis de Charbonneau," he said, using the title his grandfather had abandoned long ago, but that now rightfully belonged to him.

  34

  Dominique hardly remembered taking leave of the guests as she was whisked to the waiting carriage by her husband and brother. She clung to her brother's arm as if she were fearful that he would disappear if she did not have hold of him.

  Judah stepped back, but Dominique turned to him, holding out her hand. With a smile, he came to her.

  "I have so many questions," she said as Judah lifted her into the carriage beside her brother. "Valcour, tell me where you have been and what you have been doing."

  "I have been in London," Valcour told her as the carriage moved down the Boston streets. "I was almost arrested by Colonel Marceau, but friends helped me escape."

  "British friends?" Dominique asked.

  "I cannot tell even you that, Dominique." He smiled at his brother-in-law. "Here's a pretty kettle of fish; I owe so much to Judah for taking care of you, and yet I fear we will soon be on opposite sides in a conflict."

  "Not with me, Valcour," Judah said. "I am retired from naval service." His hand tightened on Dominique's. "Your sister has clipped my sails, so to speak."

  "I do not have to ask if you are happy," Valcour said, looking into Dominique's face.

  Her eyes saddened. "You know about grandfather?"

  "Oui . . . yes. I returned to Windward to find the house burned and grandfather dead. I was frantic to learn what had happened to you. It did not ease my mind when I went to Bartrand, and he told me some story about you having left the island with a notorious pirate." He glanced over at Judah and grinned. "But we will speak of that later."

  "I am sorry you were worried, Valcour," Dominique said softly. "But at last we are reunited."

  He glanced at Judah. "You have influential friends, brother-in-law. When the British ship was boarded, I was told that I was being taken by order of the President of the Unites States of America. Imagine my thinking I must be important to draw such a great man's notice."

  Dominique laughed with happiness as she leaned over and kissed her husband. "You kept your promise."

  His eyes rested on her face. "I will always keep my promises to you."

  Valcour saw the love that passed between his sister and her husband. Dominique was well settled, and he no longer had to worry about her.

  "Judah has told me much of what happened to you," Valcour said, "and how you came to stow away on board his ship. Here is a bit of information that might please you."

  Dominique was curious. "What is it?"

  "There was such an outcry from the islanders that General Richepance had no choice but to arrest Colonel Marceau. At his trial, the colonel raved like a madman, when he was stripped of his rank and convicted."

  Dominique's eyes narrowed with loathing. "What were the charges?"

  "There were many charges, but the only one that should concern you is that he was accused and convicted of the death of Jean Louis Charbonneau."

  Dominique let out a long breath. "And his sentence?"

  "Death."

  "I am not sorry," she said bitterly. "He was responsible for so much suffering."

  "Even if he was a monster, I am grateful to him," Judah said, attempting to bring a bit of levity to the serious atmosphere. "Had it not been for him, we would never have met, Dominique."

  She leaned her head against Judah's shoulder. "Something good oft can come from something bad." She raised her eyes to her brother. "Do you recall that Grandpapa used to say that?"

  Valcour nodded. "Yes, but he was speaking of the swamp, Dominique."

  She laced her hand through his, feeling so happy she thought her heart would burst. "So he was."

  "How long can you stay with us?" Judah asked. "I know Dominique will want you to remain as long as you can."

  "I would like to remain until spring."

  Dominique clapped her hands in excitement.

  "I would also like to see your shipyard, Judah," Valcour said.

  Judah laughed. "So you can tell the British?"

  Dominique gasped. She had a horrible thought, her husband and her brother as enemies. How would she bear it? But when she looked at Valcour's face, she saw that he was smiling.

  "No matter where I go or what I do when I leave here, I would never betray the country that gives my sister sanctuary, or the man who gave her love."

  * * *

  Judah had left Dominique alone with her brother so they could talk, and it was much later when she joined him in their bedroom. She had removed her gown and was sitting at her dressing table brushing her hair, wearing only her lawn chemise.

>   He watched her, seeing that she was troubled, and he waited for her to tell him what she was thinking. At last, she laid the brush aside and came to him.

  "You are happy that you were reunited with your brother," he said, watching her face. "And I am glad that the two of you found each other again."

  She seemed somehow withdrawn from him. "Today was one of the happiest days of my life, but also the saddest."

  "Sad?"

  "I did not understand why your ... why Mary's sister was filled with malice toward me."

  Judah tried to think how to answer her, and he decided that she must know the truth. "I wish that you could have been spared that confrontation today, but I believe your brother handled it quite well on your behalf."

  She smiled. "Yes, he did. Valcour was always protective of me."

  "I have a brother, and it is much the same with us. But I wanted to speak to you of Nedra. What you saw in her today was much the same as Mary's personality, only Mary was more practiced on how to hurt others."

  Dominique's mouth rounded in surprise. "But you loved Mary."

  "No, I never loved her. I blamed myself for her death because I was at sea when she died, and I blamed myself because I knew our marriage was a mistake even before I married her and still I went through with the ceremony."

  "I thought—"

  "I know what you thought." He reached out and took her hand, studying it for some time. "I have loved only one woman." He raised his eyes to her. "That woman is you."

  She gave a strangled cry and flung herself into his arms. "Oh, Judah, why didn't you tell me this about Mary?"

  "Misguided pride, I suppose."

  "I have something to tell you, and I do not know how you will feel."

  He rested his lips against her forehead as she curled. up in his arms.

  "What is it?"

  "You once told me you did not know how you would feel about having ... a baby."

  He tensed. "Are you telling me that you are with child?"

  She sat up, her expression somehow wistful. "Yes, I am. Will you mind very much?"