Cadence (Langston Brothers Series)

by Blue, Melissa Lynne

  Genie flashed a decidedly unladylike face before sweeping back into the ballroom.

  “You’re in a surprisingly good mood,” Cadence noted as he fit an arm about her waist, kissing her affectionately for the entire world, or at least the ballroom, to see.

  “Why is that so surprising?”

  “Because I know how you hate crowds.” He’d mentioned more than once that nothing good came of large gatherings.

  Curtis hefted broad shoulders in a relaxed fashion, escorting her further into the colonially decorated room.

  “Genie certainly has outdone herself,” Cadence breathed, taking in the overall splendor of the room. Expensive gowns of every shade and color of the rainbow added to the festivity of the evening and jewels glittered from every corner of the room. It was nearly as grand as the parties they’d attended in London.

  “She’ll jump on any excuse to throw a party,” Curtis murmured, nodding toward his stepmother moving animatedly to the head of the room.

  “Everyone, may I have your attention!” Genie’s ever cheerful voice rose above the din, “Robert and I are thrilled to announce that our son, Curtis,” he smiled at her acknowledgement of him as her son—he’d hardly known his own mother—“Charleston’s own war hero, was married last fall. Due to his busy sailing schedule we were unable to make a formal announcement or have a proper celebration before now.”

  Leaning up she and whispered to her husband, “She certainly knows how to make the best of things.”

  “That would be one way of looking at it.”

  Cadence took a delicate sip of her wine and squinted reproachfully as Curtis tossed the contents of his glass down his throat in a single gulp.

  He caught her glare. “Good mood or not crowds make me nervous.” He kissed her cheek.

  Cadence relaxed and sipped her wine again, smiling at him.

  “Now it is time for the first dance.” Genie prompted the band and held her arms out. “Captain and Mrs. Langston, if you please.”

  Her smile broadened. There was a time, before the war, when Cadence had loved to dance. Tonight, with Curtis fixing her with his roguish stare, excitement skipped inside her. There was an essence of danger surrounding Curtis that he never managed to shed—even while dressed in the steel grey suit and vest of a gentleman. Curtis winked, loosening his tie, and held out an arm. Her heart pattered faster as the music started and she stepped into his arms.

  Swirling faultlessly to the music, Cadence gazed up into the warm blue of Curtis’s eyes. After several moments the guard slipped from his gaze and for a moment she could almost lose herself in that one perfect dream. For one heart stopping instant she could believe she was well loved, and the luckiest woman alive. Her heart sang along with the music and she sank deeper into the warmth of his arms.

  But… her mind understood that he was holding himself back. Just that afternoon he’d said, Well, it looks like I’ll be in Charleston for a while after all… clearly indicating his intention to leave her and go back to sea.

  A bit of the excitement dwindled.

  It hurt so much when he looked at her this way, as though the whole world was right because she was with him. Her heart broke every time. Did he know? Did he realize how his games tore her apart at the seams? Or did he not realize he was toying with her affections? Was this the way of the sailor’s wife—to be happy just a little while at a time? To know her husband would never love her as much as he loved the sea?

  * * *

  The moment Cadence stepped within the circle of Curtis’s arms it was as though he’d finally come home. He knew a sense of wholeness, of finding himself, and for a single perfect moment he was perfect. For the first time in years he was himself. He felt full and happy and by god she really was an angel. In her eyes he could see all that was pure and good and innocent and a measure of her heaven’s light seeped through his eyes and washed—cleansed—the parts of his soul he’d believed immeasurably blackened.

  And that’s when he knew.

  He’d fallen hopelessly in love with her.

  For once he didn’t fight the fact, he simply looked down in the amethyst pools of her eyes flecked with gold in the candlelight and lost himself. He pulled her just a bit closer, and for that single perfect dance he just loved her.

  After the first dance with Cadence, Curtis found his good spirits dissipating. It was more than his general dislike for crowds, and he could not shed the uncanny sense that something was amiss. Over and again he found himself glancing over his shoulder as though watching for something, waiting; and it was more than dodging the next woman in line batting her eyes for a dance.

  In fact, he spent most of the night dodging dance partners. It was truly remarkable how many women didn’t view his marital status as a deterrent. Kathleen Morris was without doubt the worst though he could not fathom her sudden interest in him.

  What was it she’d referred to him as, some woman’s guilty pleasure?

  True to her word, Kathleen had been unabashedly circulating vicious gossip about the Jamison murder all the while making it clear that if he relented to her demands of becoming her lover she’d cease the tales. What was he supposed to do?

  Snatching a drink from a passing tray he took a long swallow, scanning the room for Cadence. He spotted her along the wall with Grace, immensely relieved she was not twirling in the arms of some other man. It irked him to no end watching other men dance with his wife, especially as most seemed far more interested in staring at her remarkably full bosom—really, he should have protested about her wardrobe for the evening as she was quite overflowing her dress—than her equally remarkable eyes. The thought struck him rather suddenly some of these men may see fit to “keep her company” while he was long months away at sea. He nearly spit his drink with the decidedly unpleasant thought as his eyes locked on Cadence’s smiling visage. The thought was so unbearable he marched straight across the room.

  * * *

  In spite of the rampant rumors Cadence found herself having a good time though she spent most of the night in the company of Grace and not her husband. Flopping into a cushioned chair along the wall she wiped a hand across her brow.

  “Are you feeling alright, Cadence?” Grace perched beside her with a questioning quirk of her ever curious brow.

  “I’m perfectly well,” she replied. “Just a little tired.”

  “Maybe you’re hungry. I haven’t seen you eat anything all night.”

  “That isn’t the problem.”

  Grace’s eyes widened as a flicker of understanding registered in her eyes.

  “I, uh,” Cadence quickly changed the subject to avoid questions, “just can’t believe you’re engaged. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been home for three weeks,” she scolded teasingly.

  Grace shifted topics easily. “With everything else going on I didn’t have the chance. Although, it’s not as if you told me when you planned to elope with Curtis.”

  “That’s because it came about rather suddenly,” Cadence defended herself, she still hadn’t found the courage to confide the truth of her nuptials to Grace.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Grace winked deviously. “I just hope I can be as happy as you are. The way Curtis looks at you…” She sighed wistfully. “It’s magic.”

  Surprised, Cadence opened her mouth to reply, the breath even rose in her throat, but… no words came. How did Curtis look at her? Was it caring, was it loving… was it real?

  “There you are.”

  His deep voice rumbled and her heart faltered as her eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t need to turn to see the way he stood casually to her left, looking no less than roguish with hands clasped behind his back, shirt loosened to the third button, and a careless grin on his face. Just thinking of it was enough to leave her terribly off balance.

  “Grace, if you’ll excuse us, I need a moment alone with my wife.”

  “Certainly.” Grace smiled and quickly moved away, perhaps in search of her own beau.

 
Cadence drew a deep breath and turned to her husband, the sight of him was everything she’d imagined, and as their eyes locked she didn’t know whether to smile or cry. He extended a hand and she slipped her fingers within his strong palm. She smiled—really how could she help it—and stood. “Of course, Curtis. What is it?”

  “Come,” he said cryptically, tugging her hand, maneuvering them through the swirling sea of silk to the door of the parlor. He pulled her through, stepping to the side of the French door, and into his arms. Without a word he crushed her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Cadence went weak beneath the touch before curling her arms around his shoulders and returning the kiss in full measure. She drank in the taste of him, wanting as much of him as she could get before he went away again.

  “Cadence,” he murmured, lifting his head after a long moment, cradling her face with his hands. He looked long and hard into her eyes, searching. “I,” he hesitated, “I have to tell you… I—”

  A tremendous crash emanated from the front of the ballroom jarring them apart. A hush washed over the crowd.

  “What was that?” Startled, Cadence grabbed Curtis’s hand as they stepped together from the parlor.

  George Hudson appeared with blood spattered across the front of his vest. Curtis’s brother, Craig, was the first to reach the older man and immediately called for assistance.

  “No, Doc, it’s not my blood.” The sheriff’s eyes swept the room and stopped when he found Curtis. “James Holbrook is dead.”

  “What?” Curtis took a halting step forward, pulling Cadence with him. “How?”

  “It was murder, Captain. He was stabbed through the heart.”

  “You don’t think—” Curtis put a trembling hand to his brow. “He must be back in Charleston.”

  The whole of the room gasped in unison before all hell broke loose.

  Twenty-four

  “Curtis!”

  “Not now,” he barked, striding rapidly across the docks, pulling Cadence along behind him.

  “Slow down, Curtis,” she demanded, yanking against his hold on her arm. “Who is in Charleston? Were you and Sheriff Hudson talking about the new lead in my father’s murder? Did you find out who killed him?”

  Curtis’s mind spun.

  “Curtis!” she screamed at his continued silence, jerking her arm free from his grasp. “What is going on?”

  “This is not the time or the place.” He tried to take her arm again but she spun away.

  “Then when is the time or the place?” She crossed her arms. “Stop and tell me what is going on.”

  “Enough of this,” he shouted. “We are standing in the middle of the street in the pitch dark of night, let’s go home, now!”

  “I am not one of your sailors to be ordered about. I am your wife.” She crossed her arms stubbornly. “What were you and the sheriff talking about?”

  “As soon as we get back to the ship I’ll tell you?”

  “No, you won’t.” She eluded his grasp once again. “From the start all you’ve told me is that you have a new suspect and a new lead to follow. Just what is that supposed to mean? You forget it is my life in the balance, Curtis. I have a right to know what is going on.”

  “Jesus,” he growled. “Why must you choose this moment to get so stubborn?”

  Her eyes narrowed in response to his comment.

  Curtis blew out a frustrated breath. She was right, about everything. He hadn’t been honest with her, hadn’t wanted to worry her, but more than that he hadn’t wanted to prompt a discussion about Colonel Fielding.

  “Curtis?”

  His ire rose at her insistence. Couldn’t she leave well enough alone until they returned to the ship? Turning, he opened his mouth, but stopped short. She was edging closer to him and her voice had changed. Following the line of her gaze across the cobbled streets a familiar cold trembling seeped into his bones.

  “Curtis, that’s the man.”

  Tall and dark, a lanky figure in a long black coat and black top hat stood in the shadows, features totally obscured, but Curtis didn’t need to see his face to know exactly who he was.

  “Fielding,” the name wrenched from his lips, he’d known the moment of hearing of Jim’s murder that his greatest nightmare was being realized, that Fielding was here, but visual confirmation was… paralyzing.

  “Good evening, Sergeant Langston, it has been a long time.” The ghostly voice drifted through the night.

  “Curtis?” Cadence’s fingers bit with panic into his arm.

  “Back up, now,” he demanded, grasping her securely about the waist. He would not let Fielding harm her, it was Curtis he wanted. His mind spun as he contemplated his options, the ship was still their closest destination and he had a small arsenal stowed on board along with several crewmen to serve as backup. A crush of rather unruly sailors came clamoring past and he grabbed his wife’s hand, pulling her alongside him into the center of the group, hoping the drunken rabble wouldn’t decide to jump them.

  By the grace of God they didn’t.

  The trek across the docks seemed a ten mile hike but at long last the Heavenly Mistress loomed tall and proud in the darkness before them. Half dragging, half carrying Cadence up the gangway, Curtis didn’t stop when they’d reached the deck. “Jack!” Curtis bellowed as he continued to haul Cadence across the darkened deck to the hatch opening into the companionway. “All hands report to the deck.” He shoved her through the door. “Cadence, go below and wait for me.”

  “Curtis, what is going on?”

  “Go below and I promise I will tell you everything later.”

  “How much later?”

  “Do not argue with me!”

  * * *

  Cadence drew away from the murderous glint in his eye with a nod, knowing he’d been pushed too far and ran to the comfort of their cabin. What was going on? Cadence knew the lanky form staring at them across the street as the man who’d killed her father, but Curtis acted as though he’d seen a ghost. The man knew her husband, had called him “Sergeant Langston.” Anxiously she wrung her hands and began pacing about the cabin, waiting for Curtis to return and, dare she hope, give the answers she wanted.

  The cabin door exploded inward and a rather harried Curtis stepped through, slamming the portal behind him. He tore the dress jacket and matching vest from his person and chucked them into a corner.

  “More comfortable?” she quipped.

  “Don’t be sarcastic, Cadence,” he raked a hand through his hair, pacing a wide circle about the room before plucking an unopened letter from his desk and ripping into the envelope. “Goddamn it.” He wadded the paper in a fist, hurling it back onto the desk. “It’s him. You’re leaving.”

  “Leaving? What are you talking about?”

  “I mean you’re going to stay with my brother and his wife. It isn’t safe for you to be with me.”

  Her husband looked haunted, faraway, and it frightened her. “Who is that man Curtis?”

  “He is the man who murdered your father,” he replied curtly.

  “I am well aware of that,” she said testily, “but you know him. You said you’d tell me everything.”

  “And when I know everything I’ll tell you.” He opened a trunk and started stuffing her clothes inside.

  “I don’t understand, Curtis. How is it not safe for me to be around you? I’m the one suspected of murder.”

  “We know you didn’t kill anyone, Cadence. We know who did and we know why.” He slammed the lid shut and turned chilling eyes to her. “Let’s go.”

  “I am not moving from this spot until you speak to me.”

  “Oh, really,” he stepped forward, “as if I couldn’t throw you over my shoulder and haul you out of here.”

  “You wouldn’t dare, and besides that you promised to tell me and you never break your promises. This isn’t about my father’s murder is it? This is about your secrets, and your nightmares.”

  “Enough, Cadence.” He took an angry step toward her
and drew a heated breath. “You want the truth? Are you really sure you want the truth? Because you may not like what you hear.”

  “Tell me?”

  “I killed a man,” he blurted, “that’s the truth of it. I killed a man, and I don’t mean I shot Yankee soldiers in the war, I mean I shot an unarmed man, execution style in cold blood.”

  A moment of pure unadulterated shock washed cold and sobering over Cadence.

  “Do you love me now?” he sneered bitterly.

  The pain in his eyes was so acute and blazingly raw that she wanted to go to him, wanted to say yes, but… she was frozen.

  “I thought not.” Before she could respond, contradict him, he slipped an arm around her waist and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Jimmy,” he barked for the cabin boy, stomping from the cabin. “Get Mrs. Langston’s steamer trunk and follow me.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Put me down!” she gasped, recovered enough to squirm against his shoulder.

  “No,” he bit out, though he did pull her from his shoulder to cradle her against his chest. Marching across the deck of The Mistress most of the crew appeared to have arms at the ready and a coach waited beside the dock with Old Jack sitting shotgun.

  “Curtis,” she looked into his tense hard face. “What does what you told me in our cabin have to do with the man who killed my father? How do you know him?”

  Without a word he swung the carriage door open and hauled her bodily into the seat before barking an address to the driver. Sliding into the seat opposite her Curtis’s eyes stayed riveted on the passing roadside.

  God! This was a nightmare, his worst nightmare come true. Five years running and that man had finally made the appearance he’d threatened years ago. Stealing a glance toward Cadence his heart lurched clear up into his throat, she looked terrified. If anything happened to her…

  No! He couldn’t allow it, would never be able to forgive himself, he loved her more than his own life. “Cadence,” he crossed to the other seat and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry for this. Please know that I only want for you to be safe.”