Petals on the River

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  The cook’s rampant astonishment drew an amused chuckle from Shemaine. “You’d be amazed by what I’ve been able to remember from your instructions, Bess. In fact, Gage has said that I’m the best cook in the area.”

  Bess was flabbergasted. “My goodness, darlin’, an’ here I was thinkin’ I had failed ta teach ye even the basics.”

  Camille had been the one to insist that Shemaine learn such wifely duties, but she was certainly no different from other doting mothers who preferred to pamper her only offspring, at least for as long as they were near. Camille had wanted the servants to accompany them to ease their own adjustment to the untamed wilderness, and she now saw even more advantage in their presence. “Perhaps while we’re here, Shemaine, you might enjoy having Bess and Nola take over those duties so we can visit together. Would you mind terribly?”

  Shemaine wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her close. “No, of course not, Mama. I’ve been missing Bess’s cooking so much lately, my mouth waters just thinking about it.”

  “And Gage? Would he think us presumptuous if we took over his household?” Camille asked hesitantly.

  Espying her husband coming up the building slip, Shemaine hurried to meet him. Noticing the frigid scowl that he bestowed upon the Marquess, she slipped an arm through his and gave it a reassuring squeeze as she whispered, “I love you.”

  A lean hand caressed hers as he breathed, “You make my heart sing even in the midst of anger, my sweet. You’re my love . . . my heart’s desire.”

  Beneath his warm smile, Shemaine could feel her own heart swelling with the joy of her devotion. Drawing him back to her mother, she presented the matter which she and her parent had been discussing. “Gage, Mama would like to know if you would mind Bess and Nola doing the cooking and the chores while they’re here.”

  Gazing at Camille Thornton, Gage realized his wife had been bequeathed her mother’s regal beauty. Shemaine might have inherited her coloring from her father, but she had definitely inherited the delicate features of her mother. “If Bess taught my wife, Mrs. O’Hearn, I have no doubt that she’s an exceptional cook. I’m sure Shemaine will enjoy some leisured moments to spend with you.”

  Shemaine squeezed her mother’s hand. “You see, Mama. He’s not an ogre.”

  Camille reddened and was immediately reluctant to meet the smiling amber-brown eyes that rested on her. “I fear my daughter exaggerates, sir. I never thought you an ogre.”

  “ ‘Tis good to know that, madam,” Gage replied easily, though he was just as certain she still believed him a murderer.

  Gage moved away slightly, facing his rival, and silently presented a challenge with a cold-eyed stare. As handsome as the Marquess was, it was understandable that he had suffered pangs of jealousy when he had noticed the man hovering near his wife. Though the nobleman had doffed his tricorn after leaving the carriage, he was nevertheless meticulously garbed, wearing a royal blue frock coat with narrow breeches, waistcoat, stockings and costly shoes, all of a rich creamy hue. In the bright sunlight the much lighter creaminess of his shirt and stock nearly bedazzled the eye. His black hair was neatly tied in a queue at his nape, and his skin had taken on a deep, rich hue from his recent sea passage. Gage could now understand why Shemaine had been so sure that Maurice would find another. He was good-looking enough to attract women in droves.

  “You seem quite rested, my lord,” Gage commented with an absence of warmth. “Should I assume the accommodations were adequate?”

  Maurice’s eyes glinted with icy shards above a cool smile. “The hospitality of the Tates could not have been warmer, but I’m sure you can imagine that I had much on my mind.”

  “Shemaine, you mean,” Gage prodded.

  “Aye, Shemaine,” Maurice murmured softly, as if the name soothed his very spirit. “She is like gentle springtime after a hard winter.”

  “Aye!” Gage agreed. “But she is mine!”

  Maurice gave him a lame shrug. “For a time, at least.”

  Flannery drew Gage’s attention as he approached from the companionway. “Cap’n, may I have a word with ye?”

  “Of course, Flannery.” Gage felt a bit frustrated with the intrusion, but he excused himself from his guests and followed the shipwright to the rail.

  Flannery squinted up at him with an unbridled grin. “I know ye’ve got company, Cap’n, but I’m thinkin’ ye’ll be likin’ what I have ta tell ye . . . considerin’ it’s ’bout some people what are wantin’ ta have a look ’bout this here vessel today. Ta be sure, sir, they may have a mind ta buyin’ her.”

  They spoke quietly together for a moment and then, battling the same contagious grin that had infected the old shipwright, Gage came back to Shemaine and, begging their guests’ apology once more, drew her aside. “Flannery has just told me some great news, my love, and I wanted to share it with you so you can give me counsel. It seems there’s a sea captain in the area whose family is in the shipping business. He made the trip downriver yesterday from Richmond, and last night he sought out Flannery in Newportes Newes. He’s bound for New York with other members of his family later today, but before he leaves, he would like to come out and look over the ship. Flannery has sailed under him before and has assured me that he has the money to buy the ship if it meets his requirements.”

  “Oh, Gage, that would be wonderful!” Shemaine exclaimed, immediately mindful of the fact that her parents would be less likely to get into a verbal altercation with her husband while there were strangers present. It was a confrontation she desperately wished to avoid, and her heart was filled with hope that they might yet escape such an event.

  Peering down at her rather dubiously, Gage queried, “Won’t your parents be offended if I devote the greater part of my attention to these other people while they’re here today? I cannot hope for acceptance while they continue to believe I’m a murderer, but if they become convinced that I’m deliberately avoiding the issue, they might try whisking you away without giving me a hearing.”

  “I would be furious with them if they did,” Shemaine stated with firm conviction, but she soon smiled. “Oh, Gage, I’m sure my father understands the importance of conducting business when the moment is ripe. And I would not see you miss this opportunity for all the world. You’ve dreamed of selling the ship from the very beginning. Besides, ‘twill give my parents more time to get used to the idea of us being married. It was rather a shock for them to arrive here hoping to rescue their virginal daughter from bondage only to find that I had not only been wed during my separation from England but had also conceived.”

  “Aye, they probably still consider you their little girl.”

  Shemaine laughed softly and spoke for his ears alone. “If they only knew how lustful I’ve become, my love. Why, they’d never believe I haven’t been bewitched.”

  A grin teased Gage’s lips. “What kind of bribe may I expect for keeping your secrets, my sweet?”

  Shemaine pondered his inquiry with smiling sultry eyes, but she played the poor maid, constrained by circumstances. “Anything you wish, fine sir. ‘Twould seem you have me at a disadvantage, for if I do not comply with your desires, you will surely defame my good name.”

  “Anything?” Gage’s own eyes glowed.

  “I’m at your mercy, sir. Whatever your will may be,” she answered, lowering her gaze submissively as she tried to curb a threatening grin. “I only pray that you’ll not treat me too harshly.”

  “Ah, nay, never harshly, my sweet,” Gage promised. “Otherwise, I would spoil the treasures I heartily seek.”

  Shemaine yearned to know more. “What treasures are those, my lord?”

  “Your love . . . and your eager response to my slightest touch.”

  “Is it so noticeable?”

  Gage plumbed the wide, translucent depths of smiling green. “Aye, but I would have it no other way, my sweet.”

  “Nor would I,” she breathed, her whole being brimming with love. “As you have correctly surmised, I t
remble with desire at the lightest stroke of your hand. You have truly made me your slave, sir.”

  “Eh, no slave,” he assured her, “but a wife warm and willing. I cherish our moments alone together, when we are of one mind and body.”

  Shemaine wanted to slip into his arms, but she realized that Maurice was watching them closely and felt a need to turn the subject to something far less stimulating. “Tell me, Gage, what time is this sea captain supposed to arrive?”

  Gage glanced around, wondering what had caused her abrupt change in topics. When his searching gaze met the cold, penetrating glare of the Marquess, he understood completely. For a moment their eyes dueled in chilling combat. Then, pointedly turning his back upon the other man, Gage faced his young wife again. “Flannery thought they should be here before the noon hour, my pet.”

  “Then I will instruct Bess to cook up a feast for our guests,” Shemaine declared, her enthusiasm beginning to soar.

  “On such short notice?” Gage queried in amazement.

  “Of course, my darling. Bess can work miracles in no more than an hour’s time.”

  Gage was not at all sure it was fair to require a banquet from the cook when she was in a strange kitchen and there was so little time left to prepare it. “Perhaps you should talk it over with Bess first, Shemaine, and allow her to say whether or not she can manage such a feat.”

  “Bess enjoys proving her abilities,” Shemaine averred. “So don’t worry that she’ll be provoked by my demands. But if you wish, I shall discuss it with her and let her decide.”

  “I would prefer that you do, my sweet.”

  Shemaine smiled up at him tenderly. “Whoever said you were an ornery beast really didn’t know you very well, Gage Thornton. When you concern yourself about putting a servant to more trouble than she might normally expect, then ‘tis plain to me you’re a very caring individual. ‘Tis but one of the reasons why I love you so much.”

  The amber-brown eyes glowed into hers. “You always make my heart soar with those reassurances, my sweet.”

  “Do you need any?” Shemaine asked, her lips curving. No matter who watched them, she found it incredibly easy to respond to her husband with all the tenderness and gratification of a wife who was loved and in love. It was strange, but she never felt so much a woman as she did in those moments when she was with Gage. “Haven’t I always given you the best I’ve had to offer? My heart, my body, the very essence of my gender are thoroughly pliable to you alone. Or does perchance the presence of my former betrothed strip away your confidence?”

  “The Marquess is a handsome man, madam,” Gage admitted without answering her question directly.

  “Aye, but so are you, my darling . . . and you are the one I love.”

  Gage inclined his head briefly in acceptance of her affirmation as his eyes continued to gleam, this time above a roguish grin. “I need as many assurances as you’re willing to give, madam. Once we’ve gained the privacy of our bedroom this evening, I’ll require far more to assuage my heart. And, of course, I’d like to delve more thoroughly into the matter we were discussing earlier. Anything encompasses a lot of possibilities, madam.”

  Her white teeth tugged at a bottom lip as Shemaine tried to subdue a grin. “I shall accept that as an invitation, sir.”

  Gage’s eyes glittered with the luster of yellow diamonds. “Then you’ve been advised, madam.”

  Shemaine acknowledged his warning with eager delight. “I shall look forward to the occasion.”

  “No less than I.”

  Shemaine glanced beyond Gage and noticed that Maurice was now scowling sharply, as if resentful of the fact that she had been flirting with her own husband. Shemaine sought to defuse his ire by assuming a more serious mien for the protection of the one whom she held most dear. She knew Maurice’s abilities, and she dared not test his ire. “If this captain likes your ship, Gage, would he actually consider buying it before it’s finished?”

  “If what he sees and hears meets with his approval, then it’s completely possible. With my guarantee that it will be finished as planned, he can be assured that no one else will buy it in his absence.”

  “But what if he wants to make changes? Is that permissible once you’ve agreed on a sum?”

  “As long as such changes don’t hinder her design, then they’re completely acceptable. I’ll just have to figure the cost of any additional work before we agree on a price, and then hopefully we can strike a bargain. A portion of her cost will have to be left as security, but once the ship is finished and meets all the requirements of my guarantees, then the man can return, pay the remainder of what he owes me, and take immediate possession.”

  Shemaine grew troubled. “There’s no way he can cheat you like Horace Turnbull tried to do, is there?”

  Gage laughed, easing her concern. “Flannery says the captain’s word is like gold in a purse. If I deliver what he expects, then he will do the same. He’s looking for a ship that’s as swift as some of those the French are now sailing. I would not want to boast, but I believe this one will put the French crafts to shame.”

  Shemaine sighed with contentment. “ ‘Twould be nice to sail on the vessel for a few moments before she’s gone forever from our sight.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged, my sweet. The man will want to try her out before taking full possession, and at that time I’ll ask him if he might allow other passengers to accompany us for a short jaunt along the coast.”

  “I’d love that!”

  Camille joined them and laid a hand upon Shemaine’s arm to draw her attention toward the path in front of the cabin, where Erich Wernher and Tom Whittaker were toting a pair of large trunks toward the cabin. “Dear, we’ve brought some of your clothes from England. Where would you like them taken?”

  “My clothes!” Shemaine gasped in ecstatic delight. With cheeks rosy and green eyes sparkling with excitement, she faced her husband and gave him a dazzling smile. “Oh, Gage, I must go see!”

  “Then run along, my sweet,” he urged with a chuckle. “And don’t forget to talk to Bess about our additional guests. There will be five coming, three women and two men. And if she’s agreeable to cooking for so many, Erich and Tom can set up some planks on carpenter’s benches to make a table on the front porch. We can all eat out there.”

  Shemaine nodded and, half turning, lifted a hand to her sire, bidding him to accompany her mother to the cabin. Pausing briefly, she faced her husband with another question. “Will your father be up to joining us?”

  Gage responded with a slow grin. “I’m sure he’ll make the effort with Mary Margaret here.”

  “Then I’ll have a place set for him,” Shemaine said, walking backward several steps. “Be sure and let me know, as soon as our guests arrive. In the meantime, I’ll be trying on my gowns to see which of them still fits.”

  Her husband gave her a doubtful stare. “You don’t imagine that you’ve grown more than a mite, do you, madam?”

  Furtively Shemaine passed a hand down the front of her bodice, denoting the area she worried about most. “In some places perhaps.”

  Gage’s laughter accompanied her descent, but when he turned and found Maurice glowering at him, his mirth ceased abruptly. “Are you still here, your lordship?” he challenged, vexed with the man for having eyed them like a hawk. “I thought you’d have taken the hint by now that Shemaine is content to be my wife and left of your own accord. Or do you still see some advantage in drooling over her like some lapdog?”

  Maurice was hardly in the mood to apologize. For too long, he had observed the couple talking together, and their obvious affection for one another had provoked his jealousy. If not for cruel fate, it might have been hint for whom Shemaine had sparkled.

  Folding his hands behind his narrow hips, Maurice approached Gage with a measured tread, thankful for this opportunity to be alone with the man. He was anxious to make certain truths known to the rascal and, for that, he needed privacy. His statement was as clear
and to the point as he could make it. “I won’t be departing the colonies, Mr. Thornton, until I’m able to leave with the woman I hold dear.”

  Gage’s eyes chilled. “To do that, my lord, you’ll have to kill me.”

  An indolent shrug accompanied the Marquess’s reply. “I expected as much.”

  “Perhaps you should consider that Shemaine might prefer me over you.”

  Maurice’s black eyes lightly skimmed downward from the bronzed features of his adversary to the broad shoulders clothed in a white, full-sleeved shirt and the taut, narrow hips garbed in tan breeches. He casually took note of the square-toed black shoes before he met Gage’s mildly amused stare once more. “I’ll allow that Shemaine may have cause to be infatuated with a man of your stature and good looks, sir, but I’m sure in time she’ll forget you.”

  Gage’s riposte nearly drew blood. “Like she did you?”

  The black eyes smoldered with suppressed rage. “I’m sure ‘twas only the circumstances in which Shemaine found herself that compelled her to agree to your proposal of marriage, Mr. Thornton. Had she known we were sailing here to rescue her, I have no doubt she would have rejected your offer.”

  “Perhaps,” Gage admitted, “but only because she would have felt obliged to honor your betrothal.” He looked contemplatively at the Marquess. “But tell me this, if you would. If you were to kill me, how could you ignore the child now growing within her?”

  Maurice disliked the sharp prodding of his memory on that matter. “Because the babe will be a part of Shemaine, I will endeavor to give him every benefit that I would afford my own offspring.”

  Gage scoffed. “Every benefit?”

  “Not my title, of course, but I will see that he . . . or she . . . lacks for nothing.”

  “Except his true father.”

  “That can’t be helped, unfortunately,” Maurice retorted blandly. “You see, I cannot leave Shemaine here alone with you, knowing there could come a time when you might kill her as you did your first wife. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her which I could have taken measures to avert.”