Fortune's Flames

by Janelle Taylor

  “I would know, Mr. Morgan; it was in my possession. Cameron never canceled it. After his death, Eric James settled Cameron’s debts by selling off the property. No one expected Miss James to return and contest his decisions.”

  “I haven’t contested them, sir,” Maren injected. Staring oddly at Jared, she told her love, “This is not your affair, Mr. Morgan. It’s family business, personal business which I’ll settle with my cousin.”

  “You’re wrong, Maren. If I’m going to back up my deal with all I own, then you need something of value to back up yours. Even if most of your inheritance was sold off, surely your cousin owes you for your losses and his gains. I would imagine that you still have a claim to all or part of James Shipping, since it was your father’s money which saved it, in fact yours which saved it. What can be done about it, sir?”

  Lewis squirmed in his seat and tried to think rapidly. Jared Morgan was asking him to recover property he had helped Eric James steal from this woman. He became frightened. He could not allow Morgan to press this matter before Eric returned. “I…I’m not sure anything can be done. I would have to study the matter closely. I would need to go over the firm’s books. I can’t do that with Mr. James out of town. It wouldn’t be ethical. Besides, Miss James would need strong legal grounds on which to challenge her cousin. Do you suspect him of cheating you, Miss James?”

  “Certainly not,” she replied too hastily. “But I suppose it would be best if you went over the books and records just to appease Mr. Morgan. It was a lot of money to lose, and I can’t see why Eric would mind. Would you handle it for me when he returns?”

  The lawyer was relieved. At least Eric’s lovely cousin was resisting Morgan on this. “I see no reason why not. You and Mr. James can meet with me after his return and we can settle this matter quickly and quietly. You don’t want it to appear that you’re accusing him of a crime. I’m sure you realize a public scandal such as that could ruin the firm.”

  “Our discussions will not go farther than this office, sir.”

  “Do you want me to approach him on the matter, or will you?”

  “I think I should,” Maren responded. “I’ll contact you when Eric and I are ready to meet with you.”

  “After you speak with him, you might not need my services. I’ve always found Mr. James to be open and honest in his dealings, both business and personal.”

  “What about her father’s townhouse? We would like to repurchase it so Maren won’t have to live at the gambling house. It was her home and it’s close to her business. Is that a problem?”

  “No problem with the owner, but it could be with the tenant. Mr. James has lived there since moving to New Orleans. He loves it, and I doubt he would want to move. If he will relocate, I’ll gladly sell it to Miss James for a fair price.”

  “You own it?” Maren asked, intrigued.

  “Yes, I bought it as an investment when Mr. Eric James was selling off your father’s holdings. He rents it from me.”

  “But you’re willing to sell it back to me if Eric is agreeable?”

  “For what I paid for it, plus its increase in value since then.”

  “You’re very kind, sir. I would love to have it back and it would be nicer to live there. Some people think it’s improper for me to live at Lady Luck, so it would halt a lot of nasty gossip.”

  “I’ll draw up the papers for your arrangement with Mr. Morgan, and you can sign them on Friday morning. When Mr. James returns, we’ll handle the other two matters. Is that all for today?”

  “One last question,” Jared said. “If anything happened to Eric James, who would inherit all of his holdings?”

  “Why do you ask that, Mr. Morgan?”

  “Running the blockade is dangerous, and can be lethal. If Maren’s cousin met with…an early demise, would she recover any of her losses from Eric’s estate? After all, her inheritance built it.”

  “Mr. James doesn’t have a will that I know of, and I’m not sure what the legal ruling would be. I take it you’re aware he has two brothers who would precede a cousin as higher heirs. I can check on both matters when he returns. Is that all?” he asked once more, his eagerness to have them gone apparent to both Maren and Jared. But Lewis was glad they had come to him, not gone to another lawyer!

  On the way to the bank, Maren was silent and thoughtful. Once they’d arrived, she turned the key over to Jared and they checked the money and records. Maren had not corrected or replaced the falsified pages, and now she watched Jared look them over, then glance at her.

  “This isn’t your handwriting, or Dan’s. Eric’s?” Jared said sharply.

  “I told you he was running the business until I returned. He put the money and records here.”

  “Yes, I can see Eric’s greedy little hand at work.”

  “What do you mean?” Maren asked anxiously.

  Jared’s gaze fused with hers and he said, “You know what I mean. I’m certain Dan told you that he and I have already discussed this irritating matter. You forget about it; I’ll handle it because I don’t want you to annoy me with your continual defense of Eric.” He promptly dropped the matter. “Keep the key in case you need money while I’m gone. We do have expensive wine to pay for. Perhaps the next time I raid a ship it will be loaded with it.”

  Maren didn’t follow his lead. “You didn’t believe half of what that lawyer told us, did you?”

  Jared eyed her squarely and asserted, “You didn’t either. I think your family’s townhouse was his payoff for helping Eric fleece you. When Eric returns, that nervous snake of a lawyer will tell him every detail of our meeting. Eric will know I’m suspicious, and such a man is dangerous when he is nervous. I would advise you to claim you had nothing to do with my performance in there this morning. I was trying to ask questions that would open your eyes about Eric James, but obviously you prefer to keep them closed. I don’t know about you, woman, but I despise letting him or anyone get away with deceiving and betraying your father—and you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trying to clear their heads and calm their agitated nerves, Maren and Jared returned to Lady Luck without discussing Eric James. After Maren went upstairs, Jared asked Mary to prepare a nice meal for them to be served at five, and to chill a bottle of champagne. He requested the early dining hour so they would have time to eat in a leisurely fashion before their employees arrived at about six. Jared grinned at the genial housekeeper as he left her.

  But Maren was surprised when Mary came to her room and revealed Jared’s plans for that evening. Noting her reaction, Mary told her, “He’s something real special, Miss Maren; I hope you realize how much he likes you.”

  Maren didn’t respond, but after Mary had departed she scoffed, “Or how much he wants from me. Damn you, Jared Morgan, what are you up to?”

  Suspicions flooded her mind. Suppose she did recover her losses from Eric, when she had “willed” everything to Jared, couldn’t something happen to her? The man she loved and desired might be the greedy conniver, not her cousin. But what if Jared was right about Eric? And if she surrendered to Jared, did he really care for her?

  Flustered, Maren muttered, “Life is all about taking risks, isn’t it, Maren ol’ girl? If only there wasn’t so much at stake…”

  When Maren descended the steps at five o’clock, she was dressed in a light rose taffeta gown. A darker shade of tulle edged the hem, the neckline, and the puffy sleeves. And the gown had a raised waistline, but it was not banded tightly just beneath her breasts, nor was the bodice cut very low. Maren had removed several tiny roses from the nosegay Jared had given her the day before, and had secured them amidst the curls atop her dark brown head. She wore no jewelry, so nothing drew attention from her silky shoulders and her slender neck, which was made more noticeable by her unswept hairstyle. She trod softly in the dark rose slippers, but Jared’s keen ears heard her approach.

  He met her at the base of the stairs, and, entranced, he let his gaze roam over her appreciatively.
“You look beautiful, Maren. I’m glad you agreed to join me for dinner, even if I did irritate you today.”

  “One has to eat, doesn’t one?” she replied politely, still somewhat miffed because of their earlier dispute. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Morgan. You look quite dashing yourself.”

  Jared’s slim hips and hard-muscled thighs were clad in close-fitting breeches with button fastenings below the knees. His ma tching dove gray coat was cut square across the front to the waist, and had wide lapels and revers. His white ruffled shirt had a high collar, and a neatly tied dark gray cravat set it off. His coat sleeves were slashed at the wrists, and his exposed shirt cuffs were also ruffled. A green- and wine-striped vest, gray silk stockings, and leather shoes completed his immaculate attire.

  Maren noticed that his sun-tipped locks had been brushed away from his tanned face, and that some curled over his collar at the nape of his neck. His tawny eyes glowed as he looked her over from head to toe, and she was glad he was so tall. His height made him seem so masterful and so self-assured. She even liked the way his jawline curved, and the shape of his nose. Even his brows enhanced his looks. Indeed, Jared was a man who seemed to have everything: looks, wealth, confidence, breeding, intelligence, and prowess.

  Jared was deeply affected by her admiring scrutiny. “Do I pass inspection, partner?” he teased, to gain time and regain mastery of himself.

  Suddenly aware of her devouring gaze and predacious mood, Maren silently chided herself for such a display. She meant to think her next words, but she spoke them aloud. “You look perfect, Jared, too damned perfect.”

  “Why should my gentlemanly facade annoy you, Miss James? Don’t you want me to keep our female patrons as happy as you keep our male ones?” he inquired, grinning at her dismay and her slip.

  “How do I deal with someone who knows and has everything? With a man who has no faults— according to him.”

  “I don’t recall ever claiming to be anywhere near perfect. What’s wrong, my lovely feline? Something has your back up tonight.”

  “Sorry,” she murmured, vexed with herself for acting so foolish. “I guess I’m still upset over our quarrel this morning.”

  “Can we forget about business for tonight?” he entreated. “I was hoping we could have a nice dinner to celebrate our agreement.”

  “Forget business or celebrate your victory, which is it?”

  A look of disappointment came to his eyes. “It seems as if my idea was a bad one.”

  “No, Jared,” she protested quickly. “It’s a wonderful idea and a kind gesture. I’m the bad one. It’s just that…”

  “That what, Maren?” he inquired tenderly. He captured her hand in his and, carrying it to his mouth, let his lips lightly brush her fingertips. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, kissing her palm.

  Maren shuddered with an overwhelming need for him. She withdrew her hand from his. “You stroll into my life and instantly try to change it. You don’t even ask what I think or how I feel or what I want. You make demands, make decisions, and you make threats. You want everything to go your way. I am supposed to fall in with your plans as if I have none of my own, as if I have nothing to lose. For your information, Jared Morgan, I have a lot at stake, financially and personally. If you expect me to take great risks with you, then allow me to have some sayso, and if I feel it is necessary, I will change. I’m not a child or a dunderhead.”

  “I know you aren’t, Maren. If you were, I wouldn’t be interested in you. I suppose I have been too bossy and overbearing. I’m a man, and such behavior comes naturally to me. And I’m new at partnerships, especially one with a woman. I’m used to being in charge of everything and everyone around me, to doing things a certain way, but suddenly I don’t know where I stand or what I’m doing. That makes me a little edgy and defensive, perhaps too demanding. I apologize for my behavior.”

  “If this partnership is going to work, we both must make some changes and some compromises. Just because I’m a woman, it is no easier for me to accept the situation. You seem used to women who obey your every command, but let me tell you, women have feelings and goals, too.”

  “You’re right, Maren. I’ll do my best to remember your warning.”

  Maren closed her eyes for a moment. “It wasn’t a warning, Jared. Why do you see everything as a power play?”

  “Calm down, Maren. It really bothers you to think I have power over you, doesn’t it?” he asked seriously.

  “Wouldn’t it bother you if our positions were reversed? You make me feel helpless and vulnerable, insecure and utterly confused. My father taught me many things, but not how to deal with the emotions I’m feeling or the predicament I am in. He taught me to be strong and independent, to attack problems head-on. But you strolled in and decided to take control of me and my life. Why did Papa give you so much authority?”

  “Please don’t take offense at my answer, but he did it because I’m a man, and because I’m older and I know more about business. I think Cameron would have changed the terms of my agreement with him if he had lived until you were older and knew the business better. I’m sure he only intended to protect you while you were young, or from…”

  “From what? Go ahead, say it. From Eric.”

  “From anyone who might take advantage of you during my absence.”

  “Darn it, Jared! I’m not stupid! Don’t you think I realize things are strange when…” She frowned and, turning from him, leaned against the staircase, intending to get some self-control.

  Jared remained silent and alert. He could tell how troubled she was. He had been pushing her a mite hard since his arrival. After all, she didn’t know of Eric’s evil deeds, so he shouldn’t expect her to react in the same way he did. He had to relax and pull back or he was going to spoil everything. “I seem to be saying this a lot, but I’m sorry.”

  Finally Maren faced him again. “All right, Jared, the truth. Yes, I’m suspicious of Eric; I have been since I left London. But this is something I have to handle myself, and without intrusion. You’ve already alerted that lawyer to my doubts about him. He’ll tell Eric about our visit; then Eric will close up tighter than a clam. I was planning to work on him when he returned, but now he’ll be on guard. I’ve known him all my life, and we’ve been very close. We’re kin. I can’t just turn my back on him, believe the worst of him, until I gather proof. And I must do it, Jared, not you or anyone else. Maybe Eric’s in trouble; maybe he’s been greedy, made mistakes or intentionally erred. If so, I can help him. Please, let me stand on my own two feet for a while so I can resolve this situation.”

  “That’s dangerous, Maren; he’s dangerous,” Jared warned.

  “That’s only your opinion,” she declared. “You could be wrong, and I hope you are. No matter what I just said, you aren’t perfect.”

  “But I’m not wrong this time, Maren, nor is the President. He ordered me to look into Eric James’s dealings with the British. There was an American spy on the Martha J; he passed me a note when we boarded her. He’s the one who asked me to sail in your shadow and to watch your cousin closely. And he asked President Madison to send me here to unmask a traitor.”

  Maren quickly reflected on that voyage. “It was Peter Thomas, wasn’t it? The sailor with sandy hair.”

  “How do you know about Peter?” he asked worriedly.

  “It would have to be him; he was always watching me.”

  “Did Eric notice him too?”

  “How should I know? Why?”

  “He’s still sailing with your cousin; his life could be in danger if Eric suspects him.”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe he was just admiring me,” she jested.

  “That’s more likely,” Jared agreed. “Peter overheard Eric tell Wolfe you had fooled me completely, and when Peter told me you were James Slade’s wife, I thought that was what Eric had meant. Later, I realized he was referring to the ruse you used to keep the necklace. Eric also said you had a big part to play in his scheme, tha
t you were clever and trustworthy. I believe he was referring to you having provided a cover for his trip to London. Can you see why I was angry and doubtful?”

  “Do you still mistrust me, Jared?”

  “Certainly not,” he vowed. “Peter left us in Washington to return to Baltimore and rejoin your cousin. One way or another, the truth about Eric James will be exposed in the next few months.”

  “So, you did come here for a reason other than finding me.”

  “I have several missions in this area, but I volunteered for them so I could be with you while carrying them out,” he admitted. “Take a chance on me, my talented gambler; I’m worth the risk.”

  “Perhaps you are, Captain Hawk, perhaps you are. Let’s eat.”

  “I guess that means our conversation is over?”

  “You’re right, Jared, at least for now. No more talk of wars and business tonight. Please.”

  They dined on a juicy duckling which had been baked and browned to perfection, along with lowcountry wild rice, succulent carrots, hot croissants, and creamy butter; all delectably washed down with champagne. Mary served them in the front room, ata table near an open window through which a gentle breeze carried a floral odor.

  When they were alone, Maren teased Jared as she sipped her second glass of champagne. “Isn’t it a bit early in the day to be getting me intoxicated, Captain Hawk? I could go wild and attack you.”

  Jared laughed. “You’re limited to two glasses, so that’s your last one. Your reputation would definitely be endangered if our patrons arrived to find you chasing me around the house. I can’t allow that.”

  “Why would I have to chase you? I thought you were going to pursue me.”

  “This isn’t Thursday night; my siege begins then.”

  Maren put her glass aside and asked, “Are you truly making an appointment to seduce me, as you would arrange a business meeting?”

  Jared did not chuckle when he said, “Never, my enchanting siren. It’s a promise, an enticing threat you might call it. I don’t want to start us boiling like wild rice when we don’t have time to cook properly. That would only create a sticky mess. I’m giving you plenty of time to decide what you want in a man, because once you’re mine, I don’t want you to think I pressed you unfairly. At midnight on Thursday, I’m going to knock on your door. Don’t open it if you have any doubts about me or about us. If you do open it, I’ll consider that an acceptance of my proposal and we will marry on January first or when the war ends, whichever comes first.”