Fire and Ice

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Fire and Ice Page 11

by Hart, Catherine


  “I was just furious and impulsive, and very, very lucky, Dominique.” At his skeptical look, she continued, “Ask Reed to explain it to you sometime.”

  “Your anger and luck, if that is what it was, served you well, little sister.”

  “Too well. I would not blame you or Jean for being angry that I may have destroyed Pierre’s sword arm.”

  “We regret it of course, and share his pain, but he broke the code and is paying for it dearly. Better his arm than his throat, which is what I believe you would have liked to have sliced.”

  She lowered her eyes, not wanting to meet his look.

  “It is all right, cherie, we understand, and we are grateful that you were able to save Reed’s life. He is a dear friend to Jean and I, and so are you, little one.”

  She raised her head, gazing into his fathomless black eyes. “I love you, Alexandre Lafitte,” she said tenderly. “Not the same way I love Reed, but I truly do love you.”

  Kathleen and Reed dined alone that evening, not yet ready to face the others socially. Reed had talked to Jean earlier in the day. Jean’s feelings were similar to Dominique’s, the fault totally Pierre’s. They were appalled at Pierre’s treachery. Still, the atmosphere was strained with their brother lying so ill.

  Kathleen picked morosely at her food, doing little more than pushing it around on her plate.

  “Don’t take it so hard, kitten. What is done is done. If you are feeling sympathy for him, remember that he tried to kill me. The dog deserved to die!”

  “I am not feeling sorry for Pierre so much as I am Jean and Dominique, and I hope I have not destroyed the friendship between you.”

  “The alliance between us is not so frail as all that. This will pass, and in time will be forgotten.”

  “Pierre will not forget so easily,” she fretted.

  “Pierre and I have rarely seen eye to eye anyway. We’ve had our disagreements before, and always will. He is the least of my worries.”

  All through dinner they talked, and afterward they walked along the beach in the moonlight, his arm around her waist. A feeling of closeness, contentment, enveloped them. They strolled slowly, chatting easily, feeling no urgency as they enjoyed each other’s company. She leaned comfortably into him, and he pulled her close to his side. The warm night air caressed them gently, wafting the sweet fragrance of tropical flowers to them. The waves lapping gently at the shore and the songs of the night-birds provided a symphony seemingly created just for them.

  They sat on the sand listening to the soft sounds of the night. He held her close, nestled in the curve of his arm. They sat for a long while without talking. Then, one by one, he plucked the pins from her hair and it tumbled down her back like a shining curtain, the ends resting on the sand. He ran his hand down the length of it, thinking how much it felt like silk. Leaning nearer, he buried his face in its thickness, breathing in the familiar lemony scent of it. Turning her toward him, he kissed her gently, lingering over the sweetness of her lips. His fingers traced a path up and down her arm. She shivered and leaned closer, caressing the nape of his neck with soft fingertips, delighting in the masculine smell of him.

  It was only when his kiss grew more demanding, and his hand brushed her bruised breast that she stiffened. The tenderness of her breast reminded her of the ugly scene in the garden. She recalled a long night of waiting for Reed to return, and her thoughts turned to Rosita. She thought of Reed in Rosita’s arms, and now in hers, and it sickened her. She dropped her arms from his neck and pulled her lips from his.

  “What is it, kitten? Why do you pull away from me?” he whispered.

  She shook her head mutely.

  He kissed her again, and this time all thought was blocked from her mind as she was swept up in a whirlwind of heavenly ecstasy so pure that it took her breath away. She felt as if her head were spinning and a thousand butterflies had taken wing in the pit of her stomach. She longed to cry out her love for him; felt as if her heart would burst for want of him. Nectar from the heavens could not have held more sweetness than the kiss he gave to her. Her breath came unevenly, and it seemed as if a bird had lodged where her heart should be, rapidly fluttering his wings within her breast. She whimpered softly as his lips released hers.

  Reed gazed into her moonlit face and beheld an angel, more beautiful than any creature he had ever seen before, love radiating from every delicate feature. With a feathery touch, she traced the bold lines of his face, admiring the excellence of its form, delighting in the texture of his skin beneath her fingertips. With each petal-soft stroke she silently bespoke her love for him. She sighed tremulously and pulled his head to hers, presenting her lips in sweet surrender to the powerful, magnificent man before her.

  With tender caresses and softly spoken words, he removed her clothing and his. There on the warm sand, her hair spread beneath them like a sheet of glowing satin, he made love to her; slow languorous love, exciting every sensitive nerve in her being; eliciting pleasures so intense they seemed almost painful. She clung to him, running her trembling hands along the rippling muscles of his back, drawing him nearer to her quivering body. Soft purring sounds issued from deep within her throat. When it seemed that neither of them could stand more of this exquisite torture, their rapture broke, soaring them to a pinnacle of passion so high that the wings of angels seemed to brush their fevered flesh. All the stars of the universe surrounded them, radiating a light more brilliant than a million diamonds in the sun. They glided gradually earthward on a gossamer veil of joyous fulfillment.

  They lay relaxed, their senses soothed by the ecstasy they had shared, until the night air chilled, driving them to seek the comfort of their bed.

  With Eleanore back on Grande Terre, Dominique took over some of Pierre’s duties while Reed was overseeing the new slaves and helping to catalog cargo. Everyone was busy readying for the slave auctions, and carting other goods upstream to Jean’s warehouses in New Orleans for sales he would hold there. The only ones with time on their hands were Kathleen and Eleanore.

  Kathleen talked her reluctant friend into visiting the docks one morning. She knew Dan would be there somewhere and longed to see how her men were faring. She said nothing of this to Eleanore, of course, and was not sure how she could escape the woman long enough to speak to Dan alone. Maybe an opportunity would present itself, for she knew she could not approach the docks alone. Both Reed and Dominique would be angry as it was.

  The women strolled leisurely along the waterfront, Eleanore protecting her creamy complexion with her parasol, and Kathleen soaking up the morning sun. Luck was with her, for they hadn’t gone far when she spotted Dan. He was busy helping to unload cargo from a barkentine that had docked that morning.

  “Let’s watch awhile,” Kathleen suggested to Eleanore.

  “Do you think it is wise?” Eleanore questioned.

  “Just for a few minutes. I see my husband’s bosun, and if I can catch his attention I’d like to ask him something. ”

  “Kathleen Taylor! That is akin to flirting! Reed would surely kill you if he heard of it!”

  Kathleen exploded in a tinkling laugh. Dan and several others turned her way. She motioned for Dan to join her. “There. You see the old man who hobbles toward us?” She pointed Dan out to Eleanore. “Reed could hardly be jealous of him, don’t you agree?”

  Quickly, before Dan could say anything, Kathleen stepped forward. “Good morning, Mr. Shanahan,” she greeted him, giving him silent warning with her eyes.

  He gave a curt nod, an answering spark in his own eyes. “Mornin’, Lady Taylor.” He spewed a stream of tobacco juice onto the sand and looked at Eleanore.

  “I would like you to meet Dr. de Beaumont’s sister, Eleanore,” Kathleen continued. “Eleanore, my husband’s bosun, Mr. Shanahan.”

  “Ma’am.” Dan bobbed his head toward Eleanore.

  “I see you are busy, but I was wondering if you might do me a slight service,” Kathleen explained. “I have left a few personal items ab
oard the Kat-Ann, and I was hoping you could spare the time to row me out to retrieve them.”

  “But, Kathleen,” Eleanore objected. “I cannot stand here on the waterfront alone waiting for you. I feel so conspicuous as it is.”

  “Then come along with me. It shan’t take long.”

  “There is a dinghy just down here,” Dan offered, leading the way.

  “Well, come on, Eleanore,” Kathleen said, pulling her along.

  Once aboard the deserted ship, Kathleen left Eleanore on deck, taking Dan along to bear the needed items. Closing the cabin door, she headed for her desk. “Dan, you must help me find a safer place to stash these old log books. So far Reed has not asked to see them or bothered to investigate my desk, but one day it may enter his mind and my secret will be out. He’ll wring my neck if he finds out I can master a ship and said nothing. I prefer he not know anything about it. My hidden talents may prove useful someday if kept secret from him.”

  “Aye, Cap’n. That’s the first mite o’ good sense I’ve heard from ye since we left Ireland. I was beginnin’ to think ye’d gone soft on him, ’specially when I saw what ye did to that Pierre the other mornin’. O’ course, that didn’t seem to be too smart, either, lass.” He scratched at his beard. “Sort of let one cat out of the bag there, didn’t ye?”

  Kathleen’s face split in a mischievous grin. “You’d be surprised, Dan,” she laughed. “I wish you could have seen what happened after. Reed demanded to know where I’d learned to fence. I told him I watched Papa often and sometimes practiced with him, but he asked about my agility and footwork, which I tried to explain as from my dance classes at school. Needless to say, he wasn’t buying that excuse, so I told him Pierre was surprised and tired, and I was angry, and very lucky. He still wasn’t sure, so he had me fence with him.”

  Dan’s eyes widened at this.

  “Oh, Dan!” she exclaimed through tears of mirth. “You should have witnessed the awful performance I gave! You would have been proud of my acting abilities, old friend. I was worse than any beginner you’ve seen. In the end, he conceded that I knew little of the art of fencing. In fact, he criticized my abilities royally!”

  Dan chuckled merrily. “I should have liked to have been there to see ye dupe him.” Then he sobered. “Ye’ve got to be more careful in the future though, Cap’n, or he’s sure to find ye out.”

  “Aye, Dan. That I will, for he’s nobody’s fool.” She handed the log books to him. “You hide these some place safe while I find a few things to support my lies to Eleanore.”

  Kathleen rounded up a few books, minatures of her papa, mama, and Nanna, and her guitar. Dan came back with a hammer and the log books wrapped securely in oilskin. Drawing back the curtain from around her chamberpot, he removed the pot from its seatlike enclosure. Prying loose the boards around the platform of the wooden structure, he slid the package into the base of it and nailed the planks back in place. The log books now rested beneath where the chamberpot sat; between it and the floor, enclosed completely. Dan chuckled at Kathleen’s amazed look. “Not too many folks go pokin’ around there, I’d guess.”

  “Dan, you’re a genius.” She snickered. Handing him her bundle, she led the way from the cabin. Pausing in the passageway, she told him, “You were right when you said I'd gone soft on Reed. I love him, Dan,” she said sadly. “But he may never return my love. Besides, I still have a score to settle with that Yankee, and I won’t rest easy until he pays dearly.” Again she paused. “By the way, I meant to ask how you and the men are faring.”

  “We be fine, Cap’n, but some of them are homesick. How long do ye suppose before we head for Savannah?”

  “I don’t know, Dan, but surely not much longer. Jean has put Reed in charge of the slave auction. Probably after that.”

  “Why don’t you just steal the Kat-Ann back from him and head for home?” Dan suggested wistfully.

  “And have him chasing after us?” She gave him an incredulous look. “No, I will bide my time, and someday he will be the one to back down. Just taking the Kat-Ann would not be nearly sweet enough revenge if and when I decide to seek it. I’ll leave things be at present. Besides, the ship is legally his, not to mention the fact that we’d have half the pirates this side of the Atlantic on our trail.” Then she added, “But if I should need to flee some night, listen for my whistle.”

  “Aye. Even above all the snoring those tars do, I’d hear that pipe o’ yers, Cap’n K.”

  As she had thought, when Reed heard she had been on the docks, he was hopping mad.

  “Good God, Kat! Where are your brains, in your shoes?” he exclaimed.

  “Thanks a lot, Reed. I took Eleanore along.”

  “Fine! That way there were two of you flitting your skirts about!”

  “Oh! You are so maddening! Why can’t you ever try to understand?” Kathleen stamped her foot at him.

  “The only thing I understand is that you need a constant keeper!” he said, angrily stubbing out his cigar.

  “And here I thought you only married me for my money!” she retorted, her green eyes flashing.

  “So we’re back to grinding that old axe, are we? Talk about people who never try to understand! I wish you’d just shut up about that once and for all.”

  “What’s the matter, Reed? Does the truth hurt?”

  “I’m tired of trying to convince you otherwise. You are set on seeing things one way, so let’s forget it.”

  “I’m not about to forget it, you thieving cad, not as long as I can draw a breath!” she railed.

  “Sometimes, Kat, you tempt me to correct that problem!” he said, gritting his teeth.

  She stood before him and flipped her hair back, baring her throat to him. Then she glared at him defiantly.

  Reed glared back through stormy blue eyes, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. “Blast your Irish hide! Just stay off the docks, Kat!” He strode from the room, swearing under his breath.

  For once Reed stayed angry with her all night. Both kept to their own sides of the bed, carefully avoiding contact with the other. Neither slept at all well.

  The next day Kathleen decided to make amends. The thought of another evening of silence, and sleeping with one eye open, held little appeal for her. She got Mae to pack a picnic hamper full of goodies. There was fried chicken, ham sandwiches, cheese, warm bread, fresh fruit, and wine. Eleanore walked with her as she set out full of good intentions for the warehouse where Reed was sorting cargo that day. As they neared the warehouse, Kathleen heard Rosita’s voice and then saw her perched seductively atop a barrel just inside the warehouse entrance. Her full skirt was pulled high, revealing most of her thighs and bare legs, and her voluptuous breasts were almost popping out of her blouse as she leaned forward. There was the sound of Reed’s voice from somewhere inside the building, followed by Rosita’s lusty laugh.

  “Somehow that wench gets on my nerves,” Eleanore claimed disgustedly.

  “Yours too?”

  At the sound of female voices, Rosita twisted around on her seat, swinging her brown legs before her. She eyed Kathleen hatefully, looking her up and down. With a sneer, she called in Spanish over her shoulder into the warehouse, “Darling, your skinny wife is here.” Turning back to Kathleen with a sly look, she said, “I just told Reed you are here.”

  “I know,” Kathleen said with a slight smile, as she passed Rosita. Abruptly she whirled, catching hold of Rosita’s leg, and tipped her off the barrel onto the dirt floor. “Now you can tell him his skinny wife has dumped his fat slut on the floor!”

  As she spoke, Kathleen reached into the picnic hamper and withdrew the bottle of wine. She yanked off the cork and poured the contents over Rosita’s head. Eleanore dissolved into peals of laughter. Rosita rose sputtering and screeching just as Reed appeared around the corner of a stack of crates.

  “What in the name of Hades is going on here?” he demanded, looking from the dripping Rosita to Kathleen, who still held the empty bottle. Eleanore let
loose another burst of laughter. As Reed turned his look to her, she tried unsuccessfully to regain her composure, tears streaming from her merry brown eyes.

  “Good afternoon, Reed,” she choked out.

  Rolling his eyes heavenward, he returned his frosty look to Kathleen. “Are you going to answer my question?” he demanded.

  “No,” Kathleen stated flippantly, handing him the empty bottle. “You are so smart. Figure it out for yourself.”

  That said, she took Eleanore by the arm and walked out the doorway. “Come, Eleanore. We seem to be minus a bottle of wine for our luncheon.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Reed to find him staring after them, a puzzled frown on his face, the bedraggled Rosita at his side.

  Reed stayed out late that night, staggering in drunk about midnight. He lit the lamp near his side of the bed and stood glowering down at Kathleen’s stiff back. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots, dropping each noisily onto the floor. Blowing out the lamp, he lay down on the bed fully clothed. “Women!” he grumbled grouchily, and promptly fell asleep.

  Chapter 8

  REED was gone when Kathleen awoke the next morning. She dressed in a pale pink muslin dress trimmed with delicate rose-colored lace. Amazingly, the gown set off the color of her hair instead of clashing with it, and enhanced the rosy glow of her cheeks and lips. She was breakfasting on the patio when she noticed a commotion on the beach below the house. Looking closely, she saw half a dozen men and women circling about an object on the sand. Several dogs were barking and running crazily around, trying to squeeze into the circle. As one of the men stepped back to swat at a pesky mongrel, Kathleen realized what was going on. A dolphin had beached itself, and the men were trying to drag it back into the bay.

  Instantly she was on her feet, nearly tipping over the table in her haste as she raced on nimble feet to the beach. Shoving her way through the crowd, she reached the wheezing animal. Her heart was thundering as if she felt the animal’s pain as her own. This was a fellow creature of her beloved sea, and all she knew for sure was that she had to help the poor, stranded thing.

 

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