Touch the Sun
Page 36
"James, come in! Your revelations yesterday have made me see you in a new light. I have a favor to ask of you." Lion was at his ironically courteous best.
"A favor? Today? Why should I—"
"I don't mean to take advantage of your friendship, of course. I thought that, in return, I might pay whatever debts you have yet outstanding—and then some."
Wade's expression changed immediately from surly to elated. As Lion well knew, the man would sell his sister for money.
"Well then! What did you have in mind? By the way, you wouldn't have something to drink—?"
Lion poured a generous glass of brandy which James took eagerly in his pudgy hand.
"Neither of us has time to spare on this of all days, so I shall come directly to the point. I learned last night that a—lady friend of mine was killed in a carriage accident yesterday morning, some miles south of this city. There is reason to believe that the carriage-wheel may have been tampered with, but of course that is difficult to prove."
James gulped his brandy, looking utterly confused.
"Suffice it to say that I suspect that your dear brother-in-law was involved, at least in helping the young lady leave town. Certain articles that were in her possession are missing, and I am hoping you can help me trace them to Marcus."
"Trace them...?" James drained the glass and Lion refilled it.
"Yes. All I ask is that you keep your eyes and ears open. What I am looking for is a ring—a carved gold band inlaid with seven small, perfect rubies. There is also a large emerald necklace that I would recognize. If you can discover either or both of these pieces in Marcus's possession, the funds I mentioned earlier will be yours. Do you understand?"
James' little eyes glittered greedily. '"Believe me, Hampshire, if he's got that jewelry, I'll find out!"
* * *
The Jays' finest coach was full to the brim with Sally, Meagan, the three children, and Sally's sisters. Everyone was dressed in their finest, including the little girls, who wore tailored dresses and coats of white silk, and fourteen-year-old Peter, garbed in a suit of gray that matched his father's in every detail. Sally was cloaked in the same gray broadcloth, while her sisters wore green brocade and cinnamon taffeta.
Meagan had been shocked when Sally brought a dress from her wardrobe for Meagan to wear. Fashioned of cream silk overlaid with soft lilac muslin, it was so lovely that she had protested. They argued; Sally won, and Meagan emerged from her room looking truly beautiful. For the first time in months, a maid had dressed her hair, leaving it unpowdered, with a spray of lilacs inserted into the shining curls at the back of her head. Her cheeks glowed with excitement, and her violet eyes seemed larger and more thickly-lashed than ever. When she appeared at the top of the stairs, the group of Jays in the vestibule broke into spontaneous applause.
Shortly after noon, they all set out in the coach, bound for the newly refurbished Federal Hall. The streets were crowded with troops, carriages, riders, carts, and pedestrians, and people were beginning to line the windows of houses within view of Federal Hall. The Jay carriage wound its way down Wall Street until it could go no farther. The well-trained horses stood still, in spite of all the chaos around them, and the passengers settled back to wait for the procession.
Peter was particularly anxious, since he knew his father would be passing on horseback behind General Washington's carriage. Meagan was chatting with the little girls, telling them stories about her childhood adventures at Mount Vernon, while Sally looked nervously out into the crowded street.
How in the world would Captain Hampshire ever find them? she wondered. Her excitement was fading quickly into disappointment. It seemed fortunate that she had not told Meagan about Lion Hampshire after all, for it had appeared extremely unlikely that they would meet today.
When Meagan saw the yellow post-chariot from her window, drawn by both Hellfire and Heaven, all the blood drained from her face.
How did he get Heaven? she wondered wildly, remembering Gravel's statement about Heaven serving as "proof."
Then, the light carriage drew to a halt right next to their own and Meagan thought her heart would stop. Sally Jay was beaming in relief as the door opened and Lion stepped down to the street. She called a greeting to him.
Merciful God, turn him in another direction! Meagan prayed feverishly. She huddled into her corner and pretended to look for someone in the crowd. Sally was opening the door, greeting Lion again. By some miracle Meagan prayed that she would not be noticed or introduced and Lion would see only the back of her head. She felt giddy, hot, and nauseous; voices came through a blur. Peter nudged her.
"Meagan! Have you gone deaf?" Sally was asking. "Do turn around and say hello to Captain Hampshire."
There was no escape. Slowly, she turned, dreading the expression she knew would appear on his face.
His physical presence had a stunning effect on Meagan; she was instantly caught in his magnetic pull. Their eyes met, but Lion's flashed with mischief rather than shock; Meagan blinked and focused on a wicked grin of dazzling brilliance.
"Meagan, are you feeling ill?" Sally asked anxiously.
Lion reached for her hand; his tanned skin was warm and dry.
She began to tremble.
"My dear Miss Sayers, I have waited so long for this moment. You must promise to revive." His gaze wandered over her, lingering on the places a gentleman's eyes would avoid. "I must say, you are certainly a lovely representative of Virginia's aristocracy."
Meagan tried to speak, but when her lips parted, only a tiny squeak came out. Her mind spun so that each time she tried to catch a thought, it eluded her. Only one phrase repeated itself over and over, until her ears seemed to ring... I must be dreaming. I must be dreaming!
Sally was watching her with anxious concern, while Lion continued to hold her hand, tightening his grip whenever she attempted to pull away.
"Meagan has been through a trying time," Sally was explaining. "She is weak, and shy around strangers."
Lion's expression was sympathetic in the extreme. Only Meagan could see the mocking lights in his eyes. "I shall certainly keep that in mind, Mrs. Jay. As a matter of fact, I am partial to shy, soft-spoken women, so we should deal quite well together." He looked directly into Meagan's wide eyes. "Miss Sayers, if it would help you to talk to someone, I should be pleased to provide a sympathetic ear. I am a very good listener!"
Meagan's blood was beginning to flow again as she reacted instinctively to Lion's taunting. Her voice returned.
"Captain Hampshire, shouldn't you be getting back to your wife?"
To her chagrin, his smile only widened.
"Meagan!" Sally interjected. "What a thing to say. Captain Hampshire is not married!"
"Not yet," he agreed.
Meagan glowered back, but before she could speak again, Peter let out a shout from the street, where he had gone to get a better view. Other people had begun to point to the distant figures, while the faint sound of music could finally be heard.
"Peter!" called Sally, "You had better get back inside this instant."
The drumbeats were louder now; the grand marshal, Colonel Lewis, was close enough to recognize. As Peter scrambled up into the crowded carriage, Lion moved in with silent, deadly grace for the first attack.
"I think I may have a solution for this overcrowding problem, Mrs. Jay." His smile could have lit a bonfire. "It would give me great pleasure to offer Miss Sayers a seat in my carriage—"
"No!" Meagan snapped, glaring at him.
Sally was startled, confused, and embarrassed. The poor man! She had badgered him so about meeting Meagan... and he couldn't be more charming! "My dear, it is rather close in here. I see nothing wrong with you sharing Captain Hampshire's carriage. I am certain that we may count on him to behave as a gentleman."
"Absolutely!" Lion could scarcely contain his mirth as he put out a hand to help Meagan down.
Her cheeks were burning with anger and humiliation; she longed to pumme
l him, to push him over backward into the street for the cavalry troops to trample.
Sally's two sisters, both over thirty and unmarried, leaned forward to watch the couple cross to the yellow post-chariot.
"I have never seen such a man before in all my life!" breathed one of them, spellbound. "Did you see the way Meagan behaved? You'd think he had leprosy! I would give anything to exchange places with her right now."
Sally started to speak but was interrupted by the shouts of the children, who jumped up and down on the carriage seat to herald the procession's approach. The cavalry troop of dragoons came alongside them, horses prancing and swords glinting in the sunlight. The artillery passed next, followed by the grenadiers, resplendent in blue uniforms and hats with towering white feathers. Sally forgot about Meagan and Lion Hampshire, losing herself in the pageantry with an enthusiasm to match that of her children. Bagpipes, played by kilt-garbed troops, wailed eerily, and Peter exclaimed that he could see the carriages which held the committee of the Senate.
Inside the yellow post-chariot, Meagan and Lion were oblivious to the pandemonium that swept from the figures atop Wall Street's roofs all the way through the roaring sea of heads and arms to the cream-colored coach carrying George Washington. Meagan saw nothing but Lion, and heard no sound but his voice.
"It would seem that there is a great deal for us to discuss," he said, when they sat facing one another in the familiar environment from their past.
Meagan was enraged by his insolence, his arrogance. The smile had disappeared. He stretched out his legs so that handsome leather boots brushed her skirts, flicked a bit of dust from his white-clad thigh, and stared at her.
"You pompous knave! How dare you!"
Lion raised a tawny hand and pretended to cringe. "Oh, please, Miss Sayers! Don't call me names!"
She swept her muslin and silk skirts away from his boots. "Of all the high-handed behavior! The only position you could fill in this government would be Secretary of Arrogance!" Her glowing face was framed by soft black tendrils.
"I didn't know ladies of the upper class could speak like that," Lion observed dryly.
"Will you stop it! Can I never find any peace from you? Have you sought me out now to take Priscilla's place as your political asset? Has she been cast aside now that you've learned your kitchen-slut has nobler ancestry? One of my uncles is a duke, you know—"
"Stop that." Lion's voice was dangerous.
"Why don't you leave me alone? You didn't want me before and you must think me a bigger fool than Priscilla if you imagine I'll marry you now! Now that my lineage has been given the Hampshire seal of approval—"
Lion leaned over and roughly cupped her trembling chin. Their faces were inches apart; his eyes opaque and icy, hers brimming with bitter tears. Meagan tried to strike him, but he deftly caught her wrist and lifted her onto his lap. The lilac scent that clung to her feverish body filled his nostrils and shot powerful currents of desire through his loins.
The questions which they both had been waiting to ask found a common answer as Lion's mouth met hers. She was sobbing, clinging to his shoulders and letting her fingertips wander over the planes of his face. Lion's arms were like iron across her back, crushing her slight body against him as though he could absorb her. They kissed, over and over, tasting until their cravings abated enough for a pause. Lion held her face between his lean, dark hands and met her tearful gaze with eyes no longer icy.
"Don't you know, you foolish minx, how much I love you?"
* * *
General Washington stood on the balcony of Federal Hall in full view before a low railing and repeated the oath of office after Chancellor Robert Livingston. His voice was fervent with emotion as he spoke, and after proclaiming, "So help me God!" he bent and kissed the Bible.
Livingston turned to the endless crowd and cried out. "Long live George Washington, President of the United States!"
The cheers of the crowd intensified into a deafening roar that seemed capable of reaching every corner of the new country. Cannon thundered from the harbor, church bells rang in celebration; and in the midst of the tumult, Lion and Meagan were conscious only of each other.
Epilogue
A single man resembles the odd half of a pair of scissors.
—Benjamin Franklin
Birdsong and sunlight abounded the first Sunday in May as the Jay family strolled home from church. Broadway's footpath was crowded with parishioners who chattered noisily after the long, enforced silence at St. Paul's Chapel, but Sally was quiet as she continually looked over her shoulder for Meagan and Lion.
"Darling, what mischief could he commit in broad daylight?" John inquired, reading her mind.
"I don't trust him. Look! They are deliberately losing themselves in the crush—"
"I don't blame them," he said with growing irritation. "You probably make them nervous, ever watching and following. It is not like you! They're in love and probably desperate for a moment alone."
"They have looked just that desperate since they emerged from his carriage Thursday, barely an hour after they were introduced!" Sally argued. "Something is just not right."
"Well, tomorrow they will be married and you can stop worrying."
"Fine, John. In the meantime, if Lion Hampshire gets cold feet on his wedding day, my vigilance shall be the reason why Meagan loses nothing but her heart!"
Though separated from Sally Jay by four families and a pair of plump dowagers, Lion could guess what she was saying. The expression on her face was becoming familiar.
"Your duenna is upset, my darling," he murmured to Meagan. Feeling her hand slip under his coat, he could scarcely refrain from tossing her onto the nearest bit of greenery and having her. His loins, hands, mouth had ached unceasingly for four days—and it was Sally Jay's fault.
"Let her stew," Meagan remarked. "Some friend she has turned out to be!"
"You might tell her the truth about us and set her mind at ease." He smiled devilishly, drawing her nearer as they walked. "That is... if you absolutely cannot wait until tomorrow to have me!"
"Conceited beast!" she accused happily. Violet eyes turned up to gaze at the hard, tantalizing lines of his mouth. "It's a tempting thought, but I could never unravel all of the truth to Sally; she might think worse of us both if she heard it. No... I'm certain that this is the better way. 'Bachelor rogue laid low by true, tempestuous love!'" Meagan laughed in the spring sunshine. "When she sees you at the church tomorrow, her mind will be at rest."
"I'll try not to disappoint either of you," Lion grinned, and Meagan cuffed his arm. The number of pedestrians had thinned considerably by this time as people turned in different directions, and Lion looked ahead to see Sally conversing with little Peter. Quickly, he pulled a startled Meagan off into the tiny court to their left. A large willow tree obligingly offered concealment.
"Lion!" Meagan exclaimed. "What are you—"
Hard-muscled arms encircled her, drew her against the length of his body and upward to meet lips that seared her own. Eagerly she responded, starved for the delicious savagery of his kiss, her fingers tracing the familiar pattern of muscles on his back. Lean fingers sought swelling breasts; aroused maleness pressed the core of her own desire.
"Christ! It has been so long! This is the worst torture I have ever been subjected to!" Lion whispered, his breath fiery against her soft neck.
Meagan was flushed with feverish yearning, but she realized that it was impossible to ease their desire now. "I know what you mean!" she moaned, managing a shaky smile that pierced Lion's heart.
"I may not live until tomorrow," he predicted dramatically, fingers teasing her spine. "They may have to carry me into the church... I'll be permanently disabled and you will be too embarrassed to claim me!"
"Lion, you could arrive in a sedan chair, wearing a British uniform and white periwig, powdered and patched and taking snuff, and I would still claim you!"
They grinned at one another; then Lion feigned a scowl.
"I had planned to turn you over my knee the first moment we were alone, dear South. Do not imagine that you can use your charms to divert me indefinitely, for that masquerade which you practiced on me shall not—" He swallowed as Meagan stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his jaw above the snowy cravat. "That is—the deception—" She pulled his head down, her tongue touched his teeth, and the conversation was ended.
Eventually, they managed to straighten their clothes and emerge into the sunlight. In the distance, a voice called, "Meagan? Meagan!"
Lion groaned. "Let's go for a walk," he proposed to his startled companion.
"But Sally will be worried sick!"
"I am a grown man and little Sally Jay does not frighten me in the least." He paused. "I'll simply have John lock her in her room until the wedding!"
Laughing, Meagan allowed him to lead her between the houses, away from Broadway toward Greenwich Street. Since their reunion, they had had little or no opportunity for extended conversation, for there was always a chance that they might be overheard. They began to walk aimlessly, interrupting one another as they discussed all that had transpired in the past fortnight. Lion had dozens of questions about her abduction and escape, after which he answered all of hers about Clarissa and her mysterious ending. The touchy part came when he tried to explain the reason for his presence in Clarissa's New York room, but Meagan was not anxious for an argument. He had thought Meagan dead and was in pain—it was easy enough for her to understand. Knowing that he had broken his engagement to Priscilla with the intent of marrying Meagan South, housekeeper, lit a fire in her soul that nothing could dim.
After two hours, they finished their conversation on a bench next to Bowling Green, where the Dutch had once set up their tenpins. Meagan held Lion's hand, rested her cheek against his shoulder, and told him the story of Meagan Sayers. Her voice caught when she spoke of Pecan Grove, describing it vividly. No flower or horse or friend among the slaves was omitted, and by the time she had finished, Lion's mind was busy.
"Sweetheart, in these past days of blinding love, I have forgotten to tell you something. James Wade gave me some news about your Pecan Grove that seems more interesting by the moment..."