Fire and Ice

by Hart, Catherine

  Her temper flared momentarily, making her green eyes flash, but she said quietly, “The ball is for sweethearts, dearest, not combatants.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Your point is well put, pet, but surely you can pull in your claws for one evening. You are such a convincing little actress when you set your mind to it. We are going. You’ll find your gown on the chair in your dressing room.”

  She glared at him, but said nothing. Obviously he considered himself lord of the manor now and was putting her to the test. Was that his game? She wondered.

  When Reed saw her coming toward him in the gown, his blue eyes darkened in obvious appreciation. Only Kat could have done this gown justice. It was a lustrous gold satin styled in a Greek fashion, leaving one tanned shoulder bare. It clung to her curves. With the heavy gold filigree necklace spread out on her chest, emeralds sparkling like defiant green eyes, she looked regal. She reminded him of some ancient Aztec princess, especially with the wide gold arm band that matched the necklace, and the dangling filigree earrings that fell nearly to her shoulders. Her coppery hair had been gathered at the crown of her head in a gold clip, and fell from there to the center of her back in an artfully tangled mass of gleaming curls.

  For a moment Reed considered not going to town. He longed instead to carry this fiery, half-tamed creature to his bed and feel her silken limbs entangled with his, her thick lemon-scented tresses wound about him, her resistance melting and turning to burning passion as she cried out to him.

  “God, but she’s beautiful!” he thought as he offered her his arm. “If I don’t watch myself, she’ll have me stammering like a green schoolboy.”

  Once there, Kathleen enjoyed herself thoroughly. Mindful of the possessive gleam in Reed’s brilliant blue eyes, she danced but once with each partner and often with Reed. As he whirled her about the room, she was glad of the strength of his arms, for she could easily have become dizzy. She said nothing about it to him, but took care to sip her champagne slowly. She often declined to dance and seated herself to talk with friends.

  She glowed with good health and vitality, and if she curbed her natural vivaciousness a bit, she held instead a sort of secretive look that added a new appeal. She seemed unaware of the lustful looks cast her way, as well as the envy of most of the women present. If Kathleen was unaware, Reed certainly was not. With a sigh he wondered if he would forever need to guard this beautiful jewel from covetous men who would seek to steal her away from him. How many duels would this vivacious vixen draw him into in the years to come?

  “Perhaps I should lock her away in a room and keep her only to myself until age begins to dull her beauty,” he mused. Then he shook his head and laughed at himself. “And I’d spend a fortune replacing the crockery she’d level at my head each day!”

  With a start it came to him that he would not change Kathleen in any way. She intrigued him as no other woman ever had. He loved her beauty, her liveliness, even her temper. The only thing missing was her love. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would have her heart to call his own.

  As he watched, he saw her unconsciously moisten her sensuous lips with her tongue, and his own smoldering desires flared up. “That does it,” he decided.

  A few minutes later he guided her down the steps and into their waiting carriage.

  “Whatever will people think, Reed? Such a hasty departure! I barely managed to say goodnight to your mother and Kate, and you were whisking me out the door.”

  “You talk too much sometimes, sweet,” he growled as he pulled her into his arms and lowered his lips over hers in a long, drugging kiss. His hands found the clasp at the shoulder of her gown, and before her mind had time to register this fact, her breasts lay bare to his exploring fingers. His lips traced a line down her neck and shoulders, making her shiver, and then they replaced his hands. His tongue played at her breasts and rising nipples while his nimble fingers sought the fastenings of her gown.

  “Not in the carriage, surely!” she protested softly, already weakening under his forceful onslaught.

  She heard him chuckle softly in response as he silenced her with a kiss. The next thing she knew, they were both undressed and he was lowering himself over her as she lay on the coach seat with her cloak beneath her.

  “Oh, Reed! I’ve got the morals and restraint of an alley cat when it comes to you.” She sighed to herself.

  Only when he laughed wickedly did she realize she’d spoken aloud. “I’ve noticed that, you green-eyed baggage. A few well-placed kisses and you are practically begging me to bed you.”

  “It isn’t fair,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Fair or not, and all other things aside, this is at least not a passionless marriage we find ourself in, kitten.”

  His hands seemed to burn her already fevered flesh, and she clutched at his back to draw him nearer. “Hurry, darling. Please hurry!” she cried as she thrust her hips up to meet his.

  Not by so much as the flicker of an eyelash did the footman or the butler let on that anything unusual was happening, as Reed alit from the carriage with Kathleen in his arms. Their blank faces showed no amazement that their mistress was wrapped only in her fur cape with her shoes in her hand and her golden dress draped casually over her husband’s arm along with his cape, waistcoat, and vest. If they were blind to that, there was always the flushed, lazy look of a well-sated lover on her glowing face, and her passion-bruised lips that still drew the lustful blue gaze of her handsome husband, a look that foretold of more pleasures to come behind closed bedroom doors.

  Chapter 26

  DURING the next week and a half at home with Reed, only sheer willpower kept Kathleen from alerting him of her pregnancy. By keeping crackers in her bedside drawer, she held the nausea at bay, and if morning found her hair caught beneath Reed’s shoulder or his arm about her waist, she nibbled quietly until it passed. More times than not, Reed was in a playful mood when he awoke, and she would have been obviously sick without her crackers. As it was, he noticed nothing unusual except for the crumbs in the bed.

  “Why is it you find it necessary to eat in bed, Kat? It’s damned uncomfortable, I tell you. Can’t you wait until breakfast?”

  Patiently she explained to him how often she awoke only to find herself longing for breakfast and trapped in bed with him. “Surely you don’t begrudge me a few crackers to stave off my hunger while I wait for you to wake. Besides, you are usually so amorous, and I need the energy to keep up with you,” she giggled as he glowered down at her.

  “All right, keep your blamed crackers, you willful witch!” he growled as he began to shower her body with kisses.

  Reed worked at plantation business and Kathleen kept the house running smoothly for him each day. They had breakfast and lunch at home, but evenings usually found them in Savannah. They dined a couple of evenings with Kate, and a few times with Mary Taylor and the Bakers, but more often Reed took Kathleen out to a fancy restaurant. Her favorite was near the riverfront, and built high enough along the bluff to provide a gorgeous view. They would dine on lobster, shrimp, and crab, and Kathleen swore she came away more intoxicated from the view than the wine.

  The restaurant was actually part of a grand hotel, and whenever they dined there they would stay to dance in the ballroom on the third level. Once Reed even rented a suite, and they stayed the night in town.

  Often they attended the theater, the opera, or the ballet. Reed even surprised her one evening by escorting her to the Golden Slipper for an evening of gambling, and shocked everyone when he rented a room upstairs so Kathleen could satisfy her curiosity and see what one of “those” rooms looked like. When they reappeared sometime later, Kathleen’s carefully coiffed hair was somewhat less than perfect, and her color high, while Reed’s blue eyes glinted with deviltry and self-satisfaction.

  One young gentleman asked his older and more sophisticated friend, “You don’t suppose they actually did?”

  His friend gave him a disgusted look and said, “N
ow what do you suppose? They weren’t up there playing chess all this time, you fool!”

  “But to take your wife upstairs in a brothel!” The younger man gaped.

  “Listen. If my wife looked like that, I’d take her on the dining room table while the servants served the soup! We should all have his luck!”

  To Kathleen’s relief, Gerard Ainsley had gone to Europe right after the New Year on banking business for his father. It was rumored he was keeping steady company with the pretty young daughter of a wealthy fur importer in Holland. Kathleen hoped the rumors were true.

  There was still the sullen Amy to put up with, but things were looking up there as well. A certain dark-haired young man by the name of Martin Harper was taking up much of her time. He was the eldest son of a plantation owner from Augusta. He had come to spend the holidays with relatives in Savannah, and he had met Amy at Christmas and pursued her ever since. Unlike some of her other fawning swains, Martin did not cosset the pampered Amy, and perhaps this was why he was making headway. If she started to pout or argue with him, he merely walked away. If she displeased him in some way, he told her so, and warned her against repeating her misdemeanor. He was quiet, mannerly, and gentlemanly, but at the same time forceful. He told William and Barbara that he wanted Amy, yes, and intended to marry her, but she must change some of her petty ways. He would not have a spoiled child as a bride to meet his family in Augusta. Against her will, Amy was more than a little intrigued.

  By the time Reed went off again, Kathleen had been having such a marvelous time and enjoying his company so much that she found herself reluctant to follow and engage him in combat. After all, he was the father of her unborn baby! She argued with herself all day, but by the time she left Kate’s for her ship, she was resolved again. Besides, she must go to sea. It was her passion in life, her renewal. Heaven only knew when she would sail again once she stopped to have the child.

  Kathleen’s pregnancy did make her more cautious. For one thing, she no longer climbed in the rigging. They avoided other vessels, concentrating only on the Kat-Ann. Before they would have engaged another pirate ship or a tempting Spanish or English trader.

  Dan hovered over her like a mother hen until Kathleen was at her wit’s end. Even Finley made sure she was not at the wheel too long or trying to lift anything heavier than her rapier. It did her no good to order them to stop.

  “Mutiny! That’s what it is! Pure mutiny!” she muttered darkly.

  In the course of the next fortnight they hit Reed four times, and only when his hold was heavily laden. Kathleen could not afford to play games just for the fun of it now. When she and Reed squared off, Kathleen schooled herself not to overreact and become too cautious at the wrong times. She was just as wicked as ever with her blade, just as quick and vicious. She never took her eyes from his, and never hesitated to move in when she found the opportunity.

  A couple of times, merely because of Reed’s own experience with a sword, he had her on the defensive for a while, but most of the time she fought on the offensive, preferring to call the shots herself.

  Their last meeting left her shaken and ready to head for home. Reed had fought particularly well, and the contest had dragged on until Kathleen’s rapier felt as if it weighed a ton. Finally she left herself open a fraction of a second too long, and if not for a fast pivot to her right, he would have had her. She parried his blow from beneath, and as their rapiers swung upward hers glanced off his, the tip of her sword skimming across his cheek to leave a surface cut from just left of his mouth to the edge of his cheekbone. A thin line of blood, just two inches long, appeared diagonally across his cheek, ending just below the outer corner of his eye. It was far from a serious wound, but Kathleen realized it would leave a scar, a small one, but a constant reminder each time she looked at him. A few months ago she would have been glad, but now it distressed her.

  In addition to everything else, somehow Dan or Finley had pulled Dominique aside and told him of her impending motherhood. As the doctor tended to Reed’s face, Dominique cornered her.

  “Cherie, you must give up this madness now. You could harm the child. Do you think I could live with myself if something happened to you or your little one? Think, Kathleen. What if you should slip? Reed could kill you accidentally, even while he only meant to wound, just as I know you did not intend to mark his face today. What could I say to him then? How could I face him and tell him I knew it was you all along?”

  Kathleen eyed him balefully. “Dom, I am sickened by what I have done today, but I cannot stop while I am so close to the end. Only for a short while longer, I promise you. If I cannot force him to sell the Kat-Ann in two months’ time, I will give up gracefully. The Emerald Enchantress and her ship will disappear and never be heard from again. I swear it!”

  He sighed and shook his shaggy dark head. “I will have to be content with that much, I suppose, but I will not breathe easily until then, I tell you. I will help you all I can until then, but it is against my better judgement.”

  Kathleen had to stand on tiptoe to kiss his rough, bearded cheek. “Thank you, my adorable big brother.” Kathleen was on pins and needles awaiting Reed’s arrival at Chimera. She alternately dreaded seeing him and viewing his latest scar, and wished he would hurry home so she could have it over with. When he did arrive, she was relieved to see that it was so small and healing well. The scab was off, and only a thin red line remained. When he smiled it nearly disappeared completely. In time the vividness would fade to leave only a thin white line. Rather than detract from his appearance, it gave him a rather devilish, dashing look, actually adding to his handsome character. Where the ladies had been captivated by him before, now they nearly swooned whenever he appeared.

  Kathleen feigned surprise, of course, but the concern she revealed for him was real enough.

  “Why, Kat,” he said lightly, searching her face with curious blue eyes, “if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you really cared. Don’t you long anymore for widowhood?” Anger covered her confusion. “I’ve never wished you dead, Reed. I’ve told you that before,” she stormed.

  “And pray tell, sweetheart,” he teased with a mocking smile, “how was I to hang for piracy and not be dead?”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed angrily, stamping her foot at him. “Oh, darn! You know what I mean!”

  “Do I?” he queried. “How am I supposed to second guess you when you are not altogether sure of yourself half the time?”

  “Let’s just drop the subject, shall we?”

  “Just like a woman! Just when the skillet gets hot, she doesn’t want to cook.”

  “You are not being fair, Reed!”

  “That wasn’t in the contract, sugar,” he said, pulling her onto his lap and loosening her hair. “Not even in the small print.”

  Once a year Savannah kicked up its heels, let its hair down, and had a wickedly grand time. On St. Patrick’s Day, they all turned out in costume for their own version of New Orleans’ Mardi Gras. From early morning until long after midnight, the streets of this cultured, sophisticated city rocked with frolicking party-goers.

  Kathleen was amazed and delighted. She’d never seen anything like it before.

  “This is nothing, kitten,” Reed told her. “Someday I’ll take you to New Orleans during their Mardi Gras. It is a sight to behold! It’s even wilder than this.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Kathleen marveled.

  Reed had brought her to town the previous evening and they’d stayed in the hotel on the bluff, where Reed had rented a room overlooking the town instead of the river. Now Kathleen understood why. As they breakfasted on the veranda, they could watch the revelry on the streets below.

  Already people were dancing and cavorting in costume, preparing for the parade through Savannah. The parade itself was scheduled for noon. The Taylors and Bakers were all goiong to meet in the park on Oglethorpe Square, where they would have a leisurely picnic lunch while they viewed the parade. Afterward, they would don thei
r own costumes and join the melee in the streets until dinner. Later they would attend the masque ball in the hotel ballroom. It promised to be an exciting day, and Kathleen had plans to make it even more so. Her wide green eyes sparkled with suppressed anticipation.

  The open carriage ride to Oglethorpe Park was slow, but entertaining. Kathleen felt sorry for anyone who would have a need to hurry through Savannah today. The streets were crowded and noisy, even frightening to the timid. The carriage crept forward in starts and lurches.

  “It’s a good thing we left so early,” Kathleen admitted. “We could walk faster, I’d swear.”

  “Yes, but then you’d get pushed and jostled about. You have a better view and the benefit of the breeze up here.”

  “I hope Martin is along today. Amy is almost likeable when he’s around.”

  Reed chuckled. “She does seem to cheer up, thank heaven. I was beginning to wonder if her lower lip had grown into a permanent pout.”

  “She seems to be recovering from her heartbreak nicely. She’s quite taken with Martin, from all accounts,” Kathleen needled with a wry smile.

  “My ego would be severely bruised if I didn’t have you to soothe me, pet,” he countered. “Especially since I expect wedding bells are in the offing for those two before long.” He glanced at Kathleen, flashing his white teeth in a broad grin. “Are you sure you don’t regret not having a big church wedding with the flowers and candles?”

  “Don’t rock the boat, Reed,” Kathleen warned, narrowing her slanted green eyes at him. “Things have been going very smoothly lately. Don’t rattle the bear’s cage unless you’re prepared to fight the bear.”

  He eyed her with amusement. “You certainly have a way with words, my sweet. It must be the Irish in you.” Since she’d dealt him the scar on his cheek, Reed had not shaved, and was now sporting a fair mustache and beard. It made him look even more like a pirate, Kathleen thought. She assumed it was to help cover the scar, but she discovered a hidden motive when he donned his costume that afternoon. He had chosen the dress of a desert sheik, and in loose robes, burnoose, and beard, he looked so convincing it was scary, especially with that wicked scimitar at his side. Kathleen had known his choice of costumes, but was still shocked at the transformation. He didn’t even need a mask! Only those startling blue eyes staring out of his deeply tanned face gave lie to the fact.