“I ain’t ‘fraid o’ many, m’liedy, but what I seen that night sure sceered me a-plenty.”
“Very well, Morrisa. I’ll try to convince Roxanne to do what I want without using any threats. I’ll give you a missive to send over to her this very afternoon. If at all possible, I’d like to see this venture accomplished before dusk on the morrow. I would prefer it if my grandson remains incognizant of both my arrival and my departure. So the sooner Shemaine dies, the better my chances will be to make good my escape.”
“Ye don’t think word will get around, m’liedy? This be a mighty talkative town.”
“I’m willing to take that chance. Besides, if I’m gone by the time the townspeople start chattering, I can always say that I was searching for Maurice and was told he had gone up north or some such tale.”
Morrisa smirked. “ ‘Twould seem I ain’t the only liar in this here room.”
Edith raised a lofty brow.
CHAPTER 24
A contract for the sale of the brigantine had been drawn up between Gage Thornton and Nathanial Beauchamp, designating the latter as the future owner of the vessel upon its completion. It had been a fair and equitable agreement for both men, but now that Gage faced the difficult choice of closing down his cabinet shop and building ships full-time, he realized he would be terminating what had become a very lucrative enterprise. There was also the fact that Ramsey Tate, Sly Tucker, and the two younger apprentices depended on the furniture-making business for their livelihood. Unless he continued to supply them with his designs and his expertise at matching grains and seams, the men would be at a considerable disadvantage. They were hard workers and skilled at what they did, but not necessarily creative, certainly not enough to compensate for the lack of his close direction and talent.
Gage had never hidden his aspirations from his men, and after the Beauchamps’ departure, he had gone down to the cabinet shop and, with understandable jubilation, announced that he had sold his ship. It soon became apparent from the forced smiles of the cabinetmakers that they had been dreading what was in the offing. Their subdued congratulations made him wonder if they hadn’t recognized their own limitations and were reluctant to argue in their own behalf. Perhaps they had even thought it was futile to try to persuade him to give up his long-held dream of becoming a major shipbuilder. He had found it immensely enlightening to see their sudden elation when he informed them that, after further consideration, he had decided it would be foolish for him to cease the production of furniture. He would therefore confine his shipbuilding ambitions to what he had done for nearly the last decade, constructing a vessel slowly and surely one day at a time.
Shemaine was equally delighted at the news, for she could not imagine her husband giving up a craft at which he was so skilled and gifted. The two of them had stolen a private moment together in their bedroom while the elders continued to play cards in the parlor and Andrew napped in his own room. Maurice had begged passage to Newportes Newes with the Beauchamps, but had ruefully promised Gage that he would be back on the morrow, for he would not leave Shemaine until the matter between them had been put to rest one way or the other. Bess and Nola were in the kitchen cooking supper, and for the first time since her parents’ arrival that morning, Gage and Shemaine were able to enjoy the pleasure of just being alone together.
“Besides, you can’t stop making furniture now,” his wife told him. “You’ll be needing to build more beds and other things for our growing family. After visiting with the Beauchamps, I’m convinced that we’ve both missed out on the fun of having brothers and sisters and should seriously consider having a large family. Oh, Gage, think of how much enjoyment we could have bringing up a family and, when we’re old and gray, having grandchildren visiting us and crawling up into our laps for a kiss or a story. ‘Twould be a veritable wellspring of delight and an elixir of youth. Why, look at your father. He has gained new life just being with Andrew.”
Her persuasive arguments drew a grin from Gage’s lips. “ ‘Twould mean a lot of work for us, nurturing and teaching them good manners, but imagine the pleasure we can have making them.” He smoothed the folds of her gown over her stomach and drew back for a pondering perusal. To allow him a better view, his wife twisted this way and that, but he shook his head, noting no change since the last time he had inspected her. “As slow as this one’s growing, it won’t be out of the coffer until early next year.”
“You’re teasing me,” Shemaine accused with a soft giggle, and snuggled contentedly against him. “You know full well that’s when the baby is due.”
“Aye, but I was wondering if you had forgotten about the nine months it takes for a babe to hatch. With the number of children you’re obviously wanting, madam, ‘twould seem to me that you’d always be having one brewing and another nursing at your breast.”
Shemaine could imagine the frenzy of having to cope with so many close to the same ages. “Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be right to rush them too much. After all, we must give each of them time to reap the benefits of their infancy before booting them out of the crib.”
Gage chuckled in full agreement. “And we’d have more time to relish precious moments with our children. ‘Tis far more important to cherish a child and discipline him in a gentle, caring way so he feels loved and secure, knowing where his boundaries are within the family. Indeed, madam, ‘twould not be considerate of us to raise a large brood of unruly hooligans that everyone else hates.”
Shemaine smiled as she traced her fingers downward from his temple to the firm line of his jaw. “Your wisdom has already proven itself with Andrew, my love, and I shall endeavor to heed your advice after our baby is born, though I know I’ll be tempted to pamper the sweetling unduly.”
“And that would be good for you both, but let us not make the new baby the most important member in the family. After all, my love, your husband enjoys being nurtured at your breast, too.”
“Oh, I would never give up that ecstasy, my dearest,” Shemaine averred. “With just a simple reminder, my breasts tingle in anticipation.” Her sparkling eyes nearly bedazzled her husband as she clasped his open palms over the swelling mounds. “You see what you do to me.”
His thumbs brushed across the hardened peaks, drawing sighs of pleasure from her. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look in your own clothes?” Gage breathed, brushing his lips against her brow. “You’ve always been a delectable vision in Victoria’s gowns, and I certainly didn’t mind how tightly they adhered to your breasts, but your own suit you better.”
“Now at least I can breathe,” she replied, sucking in a deep breath and, in the process, expanding her bosom against his hands.
“Still, wearing your own clothes isn’t quite as delectable as when you wear none at all,” Gage whispered.
Shemaine lifted a warmly suggestive smile to meet his glowing eyes. “The same can be said of you, Mr. Thornton.” She slipped her hands around behind his hips to stroke the taut muscles admiringly. “You have the handsomest backside I’ve ever had the pleasure of viewing. . . .”
“In all probability the only one you’ve chanced to view,” he countered in amusement.
“True,” Shemaine conceded, “but I can appreciate good lines when I see them.”
“Maurice is tolerably good-looking. How do I compare?”
Drawing back within his embrace, she feigned a perplexed frown. “I don’t know, Mr. Thornton. Maurice is quite a handsome specimen. . . .”
“Humph!”
Gage’s derisive snort evoked delicious giggles from his wife. “Why, sir! I do believe you’re jealous!”
“I was better off not knowing just how handsome your fiancé is,” he commented dryly, folding his arms across his chest and lifting his gaze to the ceiling. He maintained a stoic stance for a moment until her laughter made him look down his noble nose at her. Then, rather incredulously, he queried, “Is that all you appreciate about me, madam? My backside?”
Nestling close against him, Shem
aine purred silkily. “Certainly not, sir. There are other areas I find much more intriguing, but you’d think me lewd for admitting that I suffer from a particular fixation.”
Much placated, Gage slipped his arms around her again and was not at all surprised to find himself responding to her suggestive remark. His lips widened with amusement as he considered his own eagerness. “Haven’t I always encouraged your boldness, madam? Perhaps we should explore your fetish further.”
She sucked her breath in through her teeth, as if anticipating a delicious feast. “Don’t tempt me now, sir. Tonight will be better. With so many visitors in the cabin, these walls are not thick enough to deafen my cries of delight.”
“What? Are you afraid you may give your mother the wrong impression about her innocent little darling?” Gage teased, remembering her earlier comment.
“Aye!” Shemaine grinned enticingly as her hand moved downward between them, making him catch his breath. “I don’t want her to know that I’ve become an insatiable wanton, always hungry for the pleasures you arouse. My mother would faint dead away if she were to learn about my obsession.”
Her husband grinned down at her. “Do you actually suppose she’s never touched your father the way you’re touching me now?”
Shemaine tilted her head at a contemplative angle. “ ‘Tis hard for me to imagine my mother being so . . . so forward.”
“Your parents love each other, Shemaine. Is it too much to suppose that your mother would be eager to please your father in the same way you please me? And do you really imagine that we’re the only married couple in the world who make love without our clothes and a sheet between us? You’re far more of an innocent than you might imagine, my love, if you believe that.”
“ ‘Tis rather hard for me to envision my mother and father doing everything we do,” Shemaine confessed.
Gage smiled as he caressed her breasts again. “They may not be as creative, my sweet, but please allow that they may have some imagination.”
Shemaine heaved a disconcerted sigh and seemed suddenly shy about fondling him. “I’ll not be able to look at them now without envisioning them together in bed.”
Gage chuckled at the honesty of his young wife. “I’m sorry I’ve vexed you with such worries, my love.”
She pouted prettily. “You should be, but I can understand that you might have been jealous of Maurice and were tempted to seek a bit of revenge.”
“Him again!” Gage growled, and struggled hard to laugh away her suggestion. “How I wish I’d never seen his pretty face!”
“You needn’t worry, my love.” Shemaine sighed, nestling against him. “You’ll always be far more handsome in my eyes than other men will ever be. But then, my vision is somewhat obscured by love.”
“As long as I have that, madam, then I’ll be deliriously happy. And as much as I desire to stay in here and play with you, I must go down to the ship before the Morgans leave and talk to Flannery about some things.”
“And I’d better wake Andrew or he won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Shemaine said.
“Give me a kiss, then, to last me ‘til we’re together again,” Gage urged, pulling her close to him.
Eagerly rising up against him, she slipped her arms about his neck and gave him what he had demanded until all of his doubts about Maurice had been swept away.
There was something about having the brigantine sold that allowed Gage to see the vessel in a whole new light. Whereas before he had been intent upon the unfinished areas and blinded by the clutter of building supplies that was ever before him, his vision now seemed much clearer and more comprehensive. His workmen had gone home, and the O’Hearns, Nola, and Mary Margaret had left with them, the latter to be escorted to her home, while their other guests would stay with Ramsey. Only Bess and Gage’s immediate family now occupied the cabin. His father had retired to the loft, Bess was in the kitchen preparing bread and victuals for the morrow, and Shemaine was giving Andrew a bath. For one last time before the day came to an end, he wanted to walk the deck again and see everything bathed in the rosy glow of early dusk. With that time approaching, he was feeling strangely elated and yet a bit torn and somber deep within himself.
In the coming months he would see the vessel sail away, and he likened it to losing an old friend that he had coddled and nurtured for the last eight or nine years. Beginning all over again would be a challenge, but having a ship of his own making and design sailing the seas would be like having the wind at his back. The refreshing zephyrs of success would push him ever onward toward greater challenges. Difficulties would not seem so impossible to surmount; coins would not be so hard to come by. People would not scoff at his ideas or be so quick to condemn him for a fool. His father might even come to seek his advice or join him in his efforts.
The elder had recently mentioned that he had been thinking of selling everything he owned in England and returning to the colonies to live in the surrounding area. After all, Gage’s sire had informed him with a chuckle, Andrew needed a grandfather living within visiting distance, and now, with another grandchild on the way, his possessions in England didn’t hold his heart as solidly as his family did. And then, of course, there was his new friend, Mary Margaret McGee, who, he now realized, was just as much of an avid cardplayer as he was.
William also predicted that the O’Hearns would eventually come around once their trepidations about Gage’s character were put to rest. Gage was not entirely hopeful of that event coming to pass. After all, a whole year and more had gone by, and nothing new had come to light that would exonerate him of Victoria’s murder in people’s minds. Perhaps her death had been an accident after all, and there was no killer to be found. Over the years, would he cease to be plagued by the suspicions of the townspeople?
Doubtful, Gage mentally sighed. For years to come, visitors like Maurice du Mercer would hear lurid accounts of his “awful” temper and condemn him without a fair hearing. Perhaps Maurice would even come back on the morrow and demand satisfaction in a duel, having been spurred to action by some fabricated “proof” which Mrs. Pettycomb or one of her old cronies had concocted. The Marquess had said he would not rest until he found a definite answer to Gage’s guilt or innocence. In the face of such a warning, Gage realized his own limitations with a pistol. He was an exceptionally good shot with a rifle or a smaller firearm, but he was considerably less experienced at turning and firing. It was highly feasible that he would be killed and all the aspirations he had dared to envision would never really come to fruition.
Gage locked his hands behind him and wandered leisurely toward the prow. No one had ever accepted the fact that he had loved Victoria. He had worked diligently to give her everything that a wife could want in a home, and she had always been so excited, so very grateful and pleased with his gifts, that he had labored that much harder to gratify her smallest desire. Mrs. Pettycomb and some of the other townspeople had wrongly interpreted his work habits as a selfish quest to fulfill his own ambitions. But they had been wrong.
Victoria’s death had haunted him mercilessly in the months immediately following the event. He had often found himself waking in the middle of the night from frantic dreams in which he had seen himself reaching out desperately to catch her as she tumbled from the prow. But he had always failed. During the long, exhausting daylight hours of his bereavement, he had chided himself relentlessly for having left Victoria alone. For some inexplicable reason, he felt as if he had let her down. Yet that day had been no different from others, for they had often ventured out together to the partially finished deck of his ship and had shared dreams of how it would be once his vessel was sold. Neither of them had ever suspected that she wouldn’t be with him when that day arrived. They had been too busy enjoying life and their love for one another.
In degrees of love, Gage had to admit that his feelings for Shemaine had transcended those which he had once felt for Victoria. It seemed impossible, and yet he was convinced it was true. As Victoria’s husban
d, he had once been led to think that no other woman would be capable of taking her place in his heart. He had honestly, deeply, and truly loved her. And yet here he was, totally enamored with his young wife. Sometimes the joy of his love for Shemaine bubbled up within him until he was nigh giddy. Whenever they came together in the intimate rites of love, he felt as eager and excited as an untried youth with his first conquest. Each night when he lay in her arms, he marveled at the overwhelming tenderness and devotion that throbbed in his heart for her. What had happened to him since that fateful day of Victoria’s death? Had his remembrance of his love for her only been befogged or diminished by the passage of time? Or was he now able to see himself in a whole different light, like the ship he had designed?
Did Shemaine really know how much he loved her and how his heart seemed to beat entirely for her? If Maurice managed to kill him, could she, in the weeks, months or even years to come, be deluded into thinking that he might have eventually killed her in a fit of temper, just as Roxanne had predicted?
Heaven forbid, not that! His mind groaned. Just let her go on believing in me! If I must die, don’t let her love die with me!
An almost imperceptible creaking of timbers at the top of the building slip made Gage look around expectantly. Shemaine had told him that as soon as she finished bathing Andrew and took him upstairs for William to read him a story, she would come out and join him on the deck of his ship. But the hulking form that stood there was not his lovely Shemaine.
Jacob Potts leered at him as he aimed a pistol directly at Gage’s chest. “Now I have ye,” the sailor boasted. “Morrisa said I should kill ye first so’s ye wouldn’t come after us once I did away with Sh’maine. Makes me sorry I didn’t think o’ the idea meself afore ye shot a hole through me.”
Gage realized he was utterly defenseless. He had no weapon. He wasn’t even close enough to Potts to launch himself forward against the man and take him down. All he could hope to do was to gain time until circumstances could be turned in his favor. “You must be aware that my men and I have been searching the woods for you, so if you kill me . . . and Shemaine . . . my workmen will have a good idea who did the deed.”
Petals on the River Page 51
