Sea of Fire

by Carol Caldwell

  In twenty minutes she returned home, exhausted. Should she contact Christian or wait for him to contact her? After seeing him that afternoon with Roderick, her scant trust was diminished. The idea had crossed her mind to be more open. Now, she was confused and didn’t want to think about it. Though the evening was early for bedtime, she changed into her nightwear and curled up in bed. If she slept, she wouldn’t have to worry about what to do, or if her father was well.

  No sooner had she snuggled down under the covers, than all tiredness fled her. Her eyes refused to remain closed. She tossed and turned until she decided sleep was not in order.

  Maybe if she practiced her calligraphy, it would take her mind off her situation. Maybe she’d get drowsy and be able to sleep. Yet, as much as she loved the challenge of perfect lettering, she was not in the mood. The situation between Christian and Roderick disturbed her greatly. What was Christian about? She had to know, and what better way to find out than to ask him personally? She’d travel to his town house and do so.

  A half hour later, after she had changed back into her gown and had Alf prepare her carriage, she stood at the door to Christian’s town house. Minutes passed. No one answered her knock on the door. She turned to leave when she heard laughter down the street drift her way.

  Moments later, Christian, with Mary Margaret on his arm, the same woman who had unexpectedly stormed into his bedchamber and found him with her disguised as a friar, walked towards her. There was naught for her to do, but address the two.

  “Good evening,” she said. She remained in place a few feet from his doorstep.

  He clearly was surprised.

  “Elizabeth, what is it?” He opened the door for the woman, who eyed her in an unfriendly manner. “Go inside and wait for me, Mary Margaret,” he said. She reluctantly did so and closed the door behind her. “Did you have trouble with Roderick?”

  “Nay. He was quite pleased.”

  “What is it then?”

  “I shouldn’t have come,” Elizabeth said, embarrassed that she had apparently intruded at a personal moment. Yet, she was ruffled that he had given no consideration to her feelings or thought to advise her of his intentions with regard to his own meeting with Roderick. Instead, he was out and about carrying on with a woman. This didn’t set well with her. Consequently, she accusingly asked, “What are you up to? What is this meeting you have with Roderick about? You’re so quick to insist I inform you about everything. Yet, you keep me wondering.”

  “There’s naught to tell you.” He relaxed into his now-familiar stance with his hands behind his back.

  “It didn’t appear or sound that way to me.” His insolent attitude irritated her.

  “You misunderstood,” he said and studied her.

  “I think not. I heard you agree to meet Roderick. Why?”

  “You’re letting your imagination run wild. Try to show some trust in me. We’ll discuss this another time. I’ve kept Mary Margaret waiting long enough.” He turned to leave.

  Trust him—the brother of Adam? To think that earlier she had considered trying to do so. She reached for his upper arm to prevent him from taking another step. “My father’s life is at stake here. I won’t have you jeopardizing it.”

  He stared at her grip on his arm. After a few moments, his mouth formed a grim line and he removed her hand. “Go home,” he said.

  “Not until you ease my mind.”

  Next moment, the front door swung open. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, love,” Mary Margaret said provocatively and blew him a kiss. She wore a silky red wrapper that clearly indicated what Christian shouldn’t keep her waiting for.

  “We’ll discuss this tomorrow, Elizabeth.”

  The man obviously couldn’t wait to get inside to his Mary Margaret. Before his hand reached the doorknob, she coolly said, “I doubt I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  He stopped and slowly turned around to face her. His usually glowing amber eyes grew dark. “You will be there,” he commanded.

  The cold, deadly tone of his voice caused her skin to prickle. Even so, she blew him a kiss, and in a voice she hoped mimicked Mary Margaret, she said, “I wait for no one,” and hurried off.

  * * * *

  Christian barely had closed the door behind him when Mary Margaret rushed into his arms. “Who was that woman? Something about her was vaguely familiar.”

  He unwrapped her arms from about his neck and stepped back. He stared at the woman, wondering what in the world had possessed him to suggest she accompany him home. When they had accidentally met in the city, she had asked to talk to him. Perhaps it was guilt, and the way in which they last parted, that caused him to agree.

  “You told me you wanted to talk to me. I brought you here because I was anxious to return home to attend to paperwork.”

  She tried to embrace him. He grabbed her hands and removed them from his arms. “You put me off. You shouldn’t have come to the door dressed as you are.”

  “Why? Did I offend your little friend?”

  “Talk, Mary Margaret, or you can leave.”

  “You never called on me since the horrible incident with the friar. I miss you.” She tried to snuggle once more, but he would have none of it.

  “I still can’t tell you anything.”

  “I admit I was a bit upset and hasty to react. Let’s forget it. I want us to be like we were before. Make love to me, Christian.”

  Though he had not considered the idea when he had asked her to return home with him ... she was gorgeous. She was offering and he was a healthy male. On several occasions with Elizabeth, his loins had responded against his will. Sure, his body had wanted the auburn-haired tease and, after consideration, he admitted he did, but willingly, not because he could seduce a naive virgin. Why not satisfy himself now with a willing partner instead?”

  He pulled her roughly to him. His mouth came down on hers, and the moment it did he knew he was fooling himself. Mary Margaret no longer interested him. Beauty or no, willing or no, he didn’t want her. He broke their embrace.

  “What is wrong?” Mary Margaret asked.

  “It’s not you. It’s me.”

  “ ‘Tis the friar. You’d rather lie with him.”

  He gave an exasperated sigh. “Nay. ‘Tis over between us.”

  “You and the friar?”

  “Forget the friar. I’m talking about you and me. You’re a good woman. Find someone who’ll appreciate you.”

  “I want you,” she said, and flung her arms around him.

  “Nay. We’ve had our time together. Now ‘tis over. Get yourself dressed and leave. I need a brandy.”

  He started for the library when she said, “ ‘Tis that woman who was here. She’s the reason it’s over. Am I correct?”

  He laughed aloud. “That’s the most ridiculous statement I believe I ever heard you utter. There’s no woman, Mary Margaret, nor is there a man. I have some business that’s taking up most of my time these days. It’s not fair to you.”

  “You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me, Christian Traynor. At least, do me the courtesy and speak the truth.” When he didn’t answer, she raised her chin as if to say “I rest my case,” and left him to change into her clothes. Without another word said, a few minutes later, he heard the entry door open and slam shut. Mary Margaret was gone from his life. His only regret was that it had happened the way it did.

  He filled his glass with brandy and took several gulps of the soothing liquid. For better or worse, he’d taken care of one woman this eve. Should he call it a night or confront Elizabeth as well, who was the cause of his problems?

  He had to admit he was disappointed in her. At her first opportunity, she was at his doorstep making demands and clearly displaying her lack of trust in him. He told her there was nothing to his and Roderick’s conversation, but she failed to hear or comprehend any of that. Instead, she chose to accuse him of endangering her father. Even her tone suggested he might be a cohort of Roderick’s.

&nbs
p; Was she calling his bluff, or would she not be at home tomorrow? It wouldn’t surprise him if the lady planned something silly just to anger him. Why put himself in such a position? He’d call on her this night and put this nonsense behind them. The element of surprise would be on his side.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elizabeth’s carriage circled shadow-laden Dawson Street and halted five town houses down from Christian’s residence. She had originally planned to return home, get a good night’s rest and be out early the next day before he arrived. His total disregard for her, and next his demand that she sit and wait until he was ready, infuriated her the more she thought about it.

  The idea flashed into her mind to watch his home. After the woman left, she would insist he speak with her. She knew that to journey home and try to sleep would prove futile until she learned what he and Roderick had planned.

  Now, she questioned the wisdom in her decision. From all appearances, his Mary Margaret was set to spend the night.

  She envisioned Christian and the woman locked in an embrace. At once, the green demons of jealousy surfaced. What reason would she have to give a flea’s foot what he did? Perhaps her impulsive actions did not have her own best interests at heart.

  As if in reply, the door to Christian’s home flung open and Mary Margaret, now fully clothed, stomped through it. She glanced up and down the street, spotted a hired hack, boarded it and sped away.

  Elizabeth sat on the edge of her seat. Whatever Mary Margaret had planned, clearly hadn’t transpired the way she wanted. How fortunate.

  She stepped down from the vehicle and hurried to Christian’s doorstep. She raised her hand to lift the knocker when it crossed her mind that perhaps what she was doing was not such a grand idea. She was acting from emotion, not clear thinking. Perhaps after an evening passed, whether she slept or not, she’d see the situation in a different light, or not. She hurried back to her carriage and urged the driver to return her home at once.

  With Hannah gone, no lights shone from within the town house. Earlier, the emptiness and quiet in the house, had not affected her. Now, she dreaded the solitude, hesitating on the doorstep. What if Hannah never returned again? What if her father ... She’d be alone.

  Memories came to mind of a time gone by when she was a small child and she overheard her mother tell her father that she was leaving them. It still hurt after all these years. To hear such harsh words as I no longer love you, I’ve met another, had haunted her dreams when she was young. Though the words were spoken to her father, she had reacted to them as if her mother had said them directly to her. Time softened the hurt, yet Elizabeth always housed in the back of her mind a fear that Hannah and her father might leave her, as her mother had. The years passed, but her fears about being alone stayed with her. Perhaps if she had acted more interested in the men who came to court her, she’d have married. Yet, a marriage without love held no appeal.

  She took a deep breath and told herself what she usually did when such insecurities surfaced. Her father and Hannah were different personalities from her mother, and this was a different period in time.

  She hurried inside. The moment after she shut the door behind her, she sensed, more than heard, that someone was in the house with her. Slowly, she crept in the shadows along the wall to the parlor. Someone stirred down the passageway along the staircase and moved farther from her.

  Her pulse pounded in her throat. Had she caught a robber in his act of thievery? Seconds passed. She stood glued in place. Nothing moved. Her intruder apparently wasn’t going to take action either. She was near enough to the front door, where, if she chose, a short sprint would enable her to be back outdoors. Once outside, she could seek help. Would this house-violator charge after her to stop her, though? Either she or the intruder had to make their presence known lest they stand in place all night. Better for her to flee, than face this interloper.

  Even as she determined this and reached for the door handle, it moved with no help from her. Another intruder was about to enter her home. She scampered back into the parlor. What if the caller sought out the thief? Having raced off into the parlor, she now blocked off any means of possible escape. The trespassers need only to stand at the entrance and she’d be captured. However, if she hid along the wall in the parlor next to the entry, perhaps her intruders would step into the room far enough to give her passage to slip out from behind them and through the front door.

  She tiptoed into position. The knock again barely sounded when she listened to the creak of the door opening. If this person followed the passage along the staircase, he’d meet the other intruder. Perhaps, this would be the opportunity to run like the demons were after her.

  Unfortunately, the person moved towards her. What would she do if he entered the room? Next instant, she faced that dilemma. The person entered the parlor and paused as if to decide which side of the doorway to go.

  It was now or never. She lifted her skirts and fled. Her hand reached for the entry door. The same instant a strong arm encircled her while a large hand covered her mouth, muffling her scream. He dragged her back to the parlor.

  “ ‘Tis me,” Christian whispered and removed his hand from her mouth. “What is going on here?”

  “You scared me witless,” she whispered. “I returned home to find someone in the house. A thief, I believe. I heard him near the staircase.”

  “You stay here. I’ll go see.”

  “Nay,” she said with concern.

  Christian halted. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me?”

  “Nay. Of course not,” she lied. “I’m not sure if he’s armed or not. Fair is fair.”

  “If he were armed, he would have pursued us by now. Wait here.”

  The moment Christian left, her nerves became taut.

  She leaned against the cool wall in the parlor, waiting, praying that the intruder would give up and leave. It was not to be, for she next heard the tormented plea of a familiar voice, urging her and Christian to desist and depart.

  A scuffle ensued and before she could dwell on it further, she cautiously stepped away from her parlor position and saw Christian haul a gentleman by his coat collar into the entryway. Christian roughly shoved him forward against the staircase. He fell, but immediately pushed himself upright.

  “Please, I’m a friend of the residents,” he said.

  Though it was too dark to clearly see the intruder, his voice had sounded familiar to her.

  “We’ll find out,” Christian said and next addressed her. “You’re free to light some lamps.”

  She did so and when she turned to face Christian and his captive, she covered her mouth in surprise. Mr. Clark!

  “Elizabeth, I can explain,” her father’s magistrate friend stammered. With more confidence he added, “But then you better explain to me where Edward is.”

  “You went upstairs?” She raised her arms and lowered them in despair. “You were prowling in my home? You’re a magistrate like my father. You of all people should know better.”

  “I knocked several times before I realized the house was dark. I became concerned about you and Edward. With Edward ill, surely someone would be in attendance around the clock.”

  Christian interrupted. “It still gives you no right to invite yourself inside.”

  “Me? You should talk. You did the same,” he said more bravely in a manner more congruent to his heftiness. “Who is this man, Elizabeth?”

  Before she could think of a response, Christian said, “I am Edward’s doctor. I had Edward moved to the country. I came back for some of his belongings.”

  “Oh,” the magistrate said meekly, having been put in his place.

  “You still haven’t told us why you are here. Did you think to assault the lady?”

  How could Christian have made such an accusation? She opened her mouth to protest and caught Christian’s wink. Apparently, he meant to shock the man.

  Mr. Clark stared at Christian in disbelief for some seconds before he
addressed the issue.

  “That is absurd! And, the farthest idea from my mind.” He gave her a pleading glance “My wife lost a tortoise-shell hair comb. It was a gift from her mother. She kept crying and whining over it. I thought I’d retrace our steps or hers to see if I couldn’t find it. I swear to you, Elizabeth.”

  “I believe you,” she answered. “It was all a misunderstanding. I appreciate your concern, but as you have heard, the doctor has moved Father. Madam Clark’s hair comb is not here. ‘Tis late and best you leave.”

  The magistrate exhaled. “Aye. Thank you,” he said and instantly rushed out the door.

  Christian and Elizabeth stood in the doorway. She watched, noting how Mr. Clark treaded quite agilely for a big man. When he reached the street, he turned around and yelled, “You will keep me informed about Edward.”

  She waved. “I will.”

  She backed inside and Christian shut the door.

  “Once again, you’ve saved me from a difficult situation. Thank you,” she said. “I’m curious, though. What are you doing here? I thought maybe you brought the package with the platters you carried for me, but I see you’re empty-handed.”

  “I’ll bring the package tomorrow. Right now I’m here to reassure you, but God only knows why I bother.” He walked over to the staircase and sat down.

  She moved to stand before him. He reached up, grabbed her arm and tugged her to sit down beside him. They sat hip to hip in silence far too long for her likings. She could feel the heat from him even through the skirt of her gown. His nearness caused an odd, but pleasurable sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  “Well,” she said impatiently.

  “You wanted to know about Roderick.”

  “You’re planning to meet with him. I think I should be included in such arrangements,” she said. “After all, it’s my father whose life is at stake here.”

  He leaned his back against the stairs, resting his elbows on a step. “First of all, Roderick knows nothing of my involvement. I promised you he wouldn’t. Consequently, nothing is at stake here. Secondly, this is not the meeting your lack of trust in me and imagination conjured up.” He stared at her, apparently checking to see her reaction to his comment.