Sea of Fire

Before he could take his first step, he was suddenly surrounded by street urchins with outstretched hands, begging for coins.

  “Spare a halfpenny,” a tiny voice said.

  The lass, not more than four years of age, tugged at his heartstrings. Still, begging was a problem in the better neighborhoods of Dublin, and some of the impoverished had become violent. It would only cease when the coins weren’t freely given. Perhaps then, the indigent would make use of local charities.

  “Scat, you heathens,” a male passerby said, shooing them with his hands. The children stood their ground.

  “Please, sir,” the small voice said again.

  The three older children had played this game long enough to be wise enough to remain quiet while the little lass wormed her way into one’s pocket.

  Though Christian knew what they were about, he could not resist to offer his help. “I’ll give you each a halfpenny if you want to earn it.”

  This caught an older lad’s attention. “Ye mean work for it.”

  “Aye. That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “Let’s try another,” the lad said and began to walk away.

  The small group of urchins followed him.

  Christian shook his head in disgust. He was afraid of this scenario. The wee lass glanced over her shoulder with a sad face as she walked away with the others. He waved to her. This made her happy. She waved back and skipped after the rest.

  Poor lass doesn’t know any better, he thought. At once, Adam came to mind. His brother had the fortitude to deal with orphans and the less fortunate, whereas their situation simply saddened Christian. How could a man such as Adam, who cared so much for homeless children, act as he apparently had been doing? It was a mystery he soon hoped to have solved.

  He walked the short distance to the door to Bloomfield’s terrace house and sounded the knocker. Seconds later and to his pleasant surprise, Walter himself answered.

  “Traynor,” Walter said. He motioned him inside. “What brings you here? I was on my way to the club.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Christian answered. He had planned to search for Walter even if it meant catching him depart from Charlotte’s. “Can we talk?”

  The two men adjourned to Walter’s study. “Remember our discussion about Roderick when we first met—not at the theatre, but at Bailey’s Club? You mentioned how you found it odd that Roderick sold nothing else to subsist.”

  “Aye. I do,” Walter said and lit a smoke. “I thought then as I do now that something is not quite right, for he seems to spend more than he takes in. I’ve kept my concerns to myself though. I wouldn’t want to upset Charlotte, especially since I’m only speculating about the matter.”

  “Your speculations are correct. Elizabeth has inadvertently learned where Adam is, through a letter to her father. Roderick was mentioned as a counterfeiter.”

  “Good God,” Walter sat forward in his chair. “It’s more serious than I believed, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so. I need your help, but I must warn you, we could be endangering ourselves.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to assist and to protect Charlotte. You have my word.”

  “Your love for Charlotte runs deep. I knew you wouldn’t want to see her hurt. I also knew I could count on your confidence. Thanks.”

  “Let’s have a drink while we discuss details.” Walter stood, tossed his smoke in the fireplace and reached for a bottle of brandy.

  After each took an initial sip, Christian began. “Please understand, I could not inform you about any of what I’m about to say until now, when I have an idea where my brother is.”

  “Go on.”

  “It seems my brother is not himself. I’ve learned he is responsible for the abduction of Elizabeth’s father Edward Corry. He and Roderick are currently using extortion on Elizabeth. As long as she makes the drawings for their dies to counterfeit the coins, Edward will remain alive.”

  “Goddamn,” Walter uttered slowly. “You must be frustrated as bloody hell.”

  “I can’t understand Adam’s change,” Christian said. “This is the same man who came to Dublin to start an orphan house. He has children. I swear he’s lost his memory or is drugged. Whatever—I’m about to find out. Are you still with me?”

  “Aye,” Walter said. “Where did the missive Elizabeth opened say that Adam was?”

  Christian chugged his drink and answered. “One of two places. The ship, Aurora, or the ruins of the Cullenmore Abbey north of here.”

  “What are you planning to do?” Walter asked. He gulped his brandy, set it down on a side table, and lit another smoke.

  “I’ll go to the ruins first. If Adam has lost his memory, perhaps if he sees me it will jar some thoughts loose and he’ll recognize me.”

  “And if he doesn’t, you’d be in serious danger.”

  “That’s where you come into the scheme; however, I may be asking too much from you. The situation would be dangerous for you, too, and Roderick may be there.”

  “Aye, but I’m still with you. If Adam recognizes you and Roderick is on hand, maybe I could use the opportunity to assist you into talking them into ceasing such foolishness. Either way, I’m afraid Charlotte’s going to be hurt. Roderick surely would not be able to stay in the country for long.”

  Christian thought of Adam. The same would apply to his brother unless he suffered from memory loss. Perhaps then, the courts would be lenient.

  “You’re right,” Christian leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid once this matter is cleared—it is going to be difficult on my parents.”

  “Don’t fret,” Walter said and ran his hand over his hair, causing several dark strands to come loose on either side of his face near his grey temples. He retied his queue. “You know your brother. There’s a logical explanation. As for Roderick, I’m afraid I always sensed a reptile laying in wait for prey, where he is concerned.”

  “I’d like you to meet me there. After we survey the grounds and determine whether Adam is present, I’ll go inside. If I don’t return fairly soon to tell you Adam knows me, you’ll leave to get help.”

  “I certainly can do that.” Walter drew a puff from his smoke. The end momentarily glowed before he flicked the ash into a tray. “I presume you want to go at dark. What eve do you want to arrange for this meeting?”

  “I’d like to do it this very night.”

  Walter rubbed his chin. “How about tomorrow eve? Since there is a certain danger, I’d like to leave some of my paperwork in order. I’d also like to have a missive prepared for Charlotte. If something happened to me, she’d deserve an explanation. I’d like to think death won’t be knocking at my door, but it is a possibility. I can’t tell her beforehand—she’d panic and send us into jeopardy.”

  “I understand,” Christian said. Walter’s explanation was unnecessary; however, it brought Elizabeth to mind. He’d have to avoid her. She’d want to be included in their plans and he didn’t want any harm to come to her or Edward because of them. The notion that he might never see her again created a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  He took a deep breath, and told Walter, “Surely, Adam would not do in his own brother—even if he didn’t remember him. And, I’d certainly vouch for you. I’d not turn you over to wolves. Let’s think positive. I’m not ready to meet my maker. Do you know of which ruins I speak?”

  “Aye. What hour?”

  “Before midnight. Say ten. If they are not there we’ll go to the ship.”

  “The ship seems like it would be too visible, but for that reason Adam may be there thinking he’d be less a suspect.”

  “For either place, the time has come. I’ve waited too long to find Adam.” Christian stood and offered his hand. “At ten then.”

  Walter shook Christian’s hand. “Tomorrow eve, and may God be with us.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Hannah, truly. You need not stay awake on my account.” Elizabeth had watched Hannah’s yawns become more freque
nt. In fact, she had hoped the woman would excuse herself to take a nap. The more time that passed, the more anxious she became, knowing Christian would be preparing to confront Adam.

  At last she said to Hannah, “You should go to bed.”

  “I need to prepare for supper,” Hannah argued. “If I sleep now, I’m so tired I may not wake till morn.”

  “If you do it’s because you need the rest.” True, Elizabeth wanted the time to leave. Yet, Hannah was being too polite. She really was tired.

  Hannah rose. “Since ye don’t mind, I think I will.” She started to clear the teapot and plates.

  “Nay. I’ll do that. You go rest.”

  “Bethy, I am suddenly faced with such sleepiness that I’ll not argue with ye. Thank you, cracker.” She hugged Elizabeth and retired to her bedchamber.

  Elizabeth hurriedly gathered the dishes and returned them to the kitchen. If she was fortunate, she could make it to Christian’s town house on Dawson Street and return before Hannah woke. She listened at Hannah’s door, a few feet from the kitchen. Silence. Her governess had fallen asleep so fast and soundly, not even her normal snoring could be heard.

  Elizabeth grabbed her cloak and reticule and headed for the front entryway. The heaviness of her bag reminded her of the sacks of coins she had earlier tossed inside. They’d have to wait. She’d take them to Roderick’s after her visit to Christian. She opened the door the same moment a gust of cold wind slapped her in the face. It startled her so that she accidentally banged the door against the wall so hard that it seemed to have shook the house. She reached for the handle once more and listened. Hannah was still sleeping. She hustled out the door.

  A short ride later she was deposited in front of Christian’s town house. A light shone in one of the front windows. If she recalled correctly, it was the Traynor library. God in heaven. He was at home. As she approached, the light flickered out, and she figured he had seen her and was on his way to the door.

  She tapped with the knocker just the same. A few moments passed. She heard no footsteps from within, no one’s approach. She clanked the knocker harder. Its noisy sound penetrated an otherwise quiet street. Still, no one came. She tried the door. It was locked. She had not imagined a light. If not Christian, someone was home. Why wouldn’t the person answer the door, though? Surely, they would have heard the knock, having been so nearby, in the front library.

  What if Christian had seen her and decided to avoid her? She’d have none of it. She’d not be put off so easily. She glanced one way down the row of neatly manicured homes and next the other. His town house was equal distance from either end of the block. She’d walk around to the back to the servant’s entrance. He’d not dismiss her like she was some pesky insect. If Adam was to be found, by the saints, she’d be there too.

  * * * *

  Christian sat perfectly still behind the desk in the library. He had heard the impatient imp’s knock. Christ! The neighbors at the end of the block probably heard, too.

  He knew what she was about the moment he gazed out the window and saw her march toward the door. He smiled to himself. It was quick thinking on his part. Had he opened his home to her, the action would have been the same as welcoming trouble. He had avoided her this time, but Elizabeth was a fighter. She’d be back. He’d be gone, though. If she remained clueless to his whereabouts, she’d not be implicated when he at last found Adam.

  A part of him saddened. He did not want to hurt her. He cared for her. Still, he did not know what to expect of his own brother. He wanted no harm to come to her. At the least, Adam would not associate her with him.

  The house was quiet again. Too quiet. He missed his manservant, but it was better he remained at Knights’ Head until Adam was found. He rose from his chair, stretched and headed for his bed. Though it was early evening, he was tired and the bump on his head hurt. Since Walter could not meet this eve, he’d taken the opportunity to pen his mother and father a missive to ward them off a while longer, and to work on some paperwork for his shipping business. He sighed. It had been too long since he’d been at sea. When this was over, and he prayed soon, he’d be with his ship on his way to Florida. The vision of the balmy climate and the voyage to get there cheered him.

  He’d marched halfway up the staircase when he heard the squeak of the rear door. He froze in place on the steps.

  Damn. So preoccupied with the latest events, he had unwisely forgotten to secure the door. Thieves had become bolder and bolder these days, entering people’s residences even while they were at home. Son of a bitch. He’d fix whoever had decided to invade the privacy of the Traynor home.

  He took the rest of the steps two at a time, but lightly. He retrieved his pistol from the concealed compartment in the wardrobe closet in his bedchamber and gingerly made his way back down the stairs and into the rear passageway. The intruder would not expect anyone to charge him.

  He was taking a chance that this thief would have no weapon. Most were simply street beggars turned daring. Yet, he’d have the advantage of surprise and his weapon aimed before the man could even realize what happened. Consequently, when he heard, albeit faintly, someone cautiously move toward the front of the house, he raised his pistol, barreled down the passageway and let out a roar like a wild beast.

  It was as he’d hoped. The intruder howled a soprano-like scream. He raced to the kitchen to catch the blackguard as he fumbled with the back-door handle.

  “Halt, or I’ll shoot,” he said even as he saw his intruder to be Elizabeth.

  She turned towards him, apparently having recognized his voice. She placed her hand flat against her chest. “I thought my heart was going to stop. You frightened me so,” she said through heavy breaths.

  Even fearful as a cornered pup, she was lovely. He didn’t know whether to be angry with her for placing herself in danger, for he would not have hesitated to shoot, or be pleased he had not had to face an actual intruder.

  “What are you doing here? I could have hurt you. Do you make a habit of simply inviting yourself into one’s home?”

  She addressed neither question. “Why didn’t you answer the door?”

  Her bravado apparently returned for she had closed the distance between them to stand inches before him. So near was she, he could smell the lavender scent of her.

  “This is my home. I don’t have to answer the door.”

  “You were avoiding me, Christian, and I want to know why.”

  “Nonsense.” He stood his ground. Her blue eyes twinkled. A few strands of her auburn locks curled by her ears. His gaze lowered to her bodice. He recalled the loveliness beneath and ... At once, he needed to have her in his arms. He reached for her.

  She tried to resist. “Christian, let me go. We’ve got important matters to discuss.”

  “Later.” He raised her chin upwards and kissed her mouth, knowing he would want more of the same. He lifted his lips from hers to whisper, “When I’m with you, I can’t help myself. You enchant me. I must have you.”

  Her stomach fluttered. With his arms secure around her, she wanted nothing more than for him to make love to her. His mere presence caused her pulse to increase. His touch made her as pliable as dough. How could she refuse him? She returned his kiss and murmured against his lips, “I must have you, too.”

  “Christ, when you talk to me that way ...” He helped her remove her cloak. She tossed it over a chair. He grabbed her by the hand and led her upstairs to his bedchamber.

  She stared at the same bed with the bed linens trimmed in the wide eyelet lace of forest green that she had slept in while a friar and his captive. For a second, she reminded herself that she had decided against further involvement with him. She reminded herself until she watched as he removed his shirt. His muscled chest was made to touch. He paused a moment as he caught her gaze, gave her a sensual smile and proceeded to remove his boots. All the time she watched him as he removed his breeches and his organ sprang erect and free. A warmth spread to her cheeks and across her c
hest, remembering the feel of him inside her. She returned her gaze to him. He smiled and held his arms open to her. She gladly met them and the next instant she was engulfed in his embrace. He kissed her deeply and while he did so, she could feel his arousal shoved into her skirts.

  He ceased his kiss and said, “Take off your clothes.”

  She pushed away from him. Layer by layer she removed her garments until she stood naked before him.

  “You’re exquisite,” he said and pulled her back into his arms.

  Chest to breasts and hip to hip, they held each other tight, straining to get closer to each other, wanting more. Finally, he said, “I could take you standing, but I prefer you in my bed where I can prolong our lovemaking.” He lifted her into his arms and set her on the bed. Next instant, his body covered hers. His member probed between her legs as he kissed her neck, cheek, chin and settled on her lips. He lifted himself from her.

  “Nay. Stay,” she said. “I want you.”

  “And, I you, love, but first let me ...” His words trailed off. His lips seared her skin and he kissed a path that lead to the patch of curls between her thighs.

  His breath was warm against her as he kissed the top of her mound. God in heaven, she wanted something more. She spread her legs wider.

  “Aye, give yourself to me, my love,” he whispered into her. “Let me taste your honey. Let me have all of you.”

  He gently opened the folds of her mound and placed his tongue in the center of her being, to slowly stroke her. She squirmed in delight against him, never having experienced such pleasure. She lovingly caressed his head as he moved his lips against her. His passion increased. He gently nipped at her womanly bud.

  “Christian, I want you now. I ache for you.”

  He gave one last passionate kiss to her mound and raised himself to cover her.

  She reached for his member with both hands and stroked him.

  He moaned. “And, I ache for you, love.”

  “Love me, then,” she murmured and reluctantly ceased her caresses to his member to wrap her arms around his neck.