Wanton Splendor

by Bobbi Smith

  "First a black eye and now this!"

  Joel chuckled, "The bleeding's stopped. You ain't pretty anymore, but you'll live."

  "Thianks," Christopher grumbled sarcastically as he stripped off his bloodied coat.

  When he'd washed off the worst of the gore, he collapsed wearily on his bunk, "I'm not leaving this cabin tomorrow under any circumstances. Tie me to the bed if you have to, but don't let me loose. I seem to have developed a talent for self-destruction."

  Covering his eyes with a forearm, he ignored Joel's smothered laughter.

  "Aren't you going to report this to the captain?"

  "Ask me in the morning. Right now my head is pounding so hard that it hurts to think!"

  In respect to Christopher's headache, Joel didn't answer, but he wondered at the wisdom of waiting to report the robbery. Whoever it was who had attacked Christopher must have watched him and followed him for some time. How else would he have known about the money? There was a chance to catch him now, but by morning - Irritated at having missed his chance at the thief, Joel settled down and tried to get back to sleep. This had been one long day.

  Katie Kingsford sat in the grand salon feeling very frustrated and very trapped. There had been no sign of Christopher all day and she longed to see him so she could try to straighten out the misunderstanding between them. But instead, here she was dining with her brother and Andre, who somehow, had managed to invite himself to join them. She was paying little attention to their conversation, hoping that they would ignore her. But as luck would have it, Andre directed all of his comments to her and drew her reluctantly into their small talk.

  Andre's glittering dark eyes studied Katie's every feature. The sun-streaked loveliness of her honey-blond hair fascinated him as he imagined it loose and flowing about her in all of its wanton splendor. He had only seen it down once-yesterday morning after the fight-and the unrestrained glory of her thick, golden tresses had haunted him ever since. Though her fair complexion appeared creamy in the soft lamplight of the diningroom, Andre knew that in the brightness of day, she was not as pale as was fashionable. Perhaps if he could convince her to stay out of the sun for a few weeks, her skin color would fade to a more delicate hue. Andre had to admit that he found Katie's green-eyed gaze unnerving. Sometimes, he felt she had the power to see right through him, although he quickly dismissed such notions as ridiculous. She was a lovely woman.. .her nose was small and refined, her mouth was expressive with an unawakened sensuality that Andre ached to arouse. And despite the primness of her gown, he was well aware of the round, fullness of her breasts and the trimness of her tiny waist. Yes, he still wanted her, Andre acknowledged. He would forgive her her indiscretion with Fletcher. In fact, he would overlook anything that might deter him from his goal to have Katie Kingsford for his own.

  Andre only regretted that he hadn't had time enough last night to get rid of Fletcher permanently. But when he'd heard Joel coming to the stateroom door, he knew he had to get away. Luckily, the money had been easy to grab, giving the whole attack the look of a planned robbery.

  "I believe I'll retire to my cabin now," Katie was saying and Andre took advantage of the opportunity.

  "Allow me to escort you back," he offered gallantly and again Katie was a victim of circumstance.

  "It's not necessary." She tried to beg off.

  "I would be honored," he insisted, and there was no way for her to get Mark's attention without causing a scene.

  "Thank you." She was not at all pleased with the prospect of being alone with him. She had been acutely aware of his scrutiny during dinner and it had left her feeling somehow unclean.

  Andre held the door for her, not missing the chance to slip an-arm about her waist as he guided her through. Once outside, though, Katie moved away from the heat of his hand upon her back.

  "You know well be at Greenwood and Kingsford House tomorrow morning."

  "Yes, I'm looking forward to it," she half-lied... anything was preferable to spending time with him.

  "I'm sure Suzanne and Isaac will be delighted to have you."

  "I've never met Aunt Suzanne. What's she like?" Katie wanted to keep their conversation as impersonal as possible.

  "Suzanne is a very beautiful woman. Your uncle was most fortunate when she agreed to marry him."

  "My uncle is also a very attractive, wealthy man," Katie defended the man she had only met twice in her life. "Perhaps Suzanne is lucky that Uncle Isaac married her."

  "I didn't mean to offend you, but Isaac Kingsford is more than twice her age."

  Katie pondered that. She had known that her uncle had remarried, but no one had told her that his new wife was young. For some reason, she had been expecting a matronly woman, someone closer in age to her uncle's 55 years.

  "I'm glad you told me. I didn't know Suzanne was young."

  "You were expecting a matronly aunt?" At her nod, Andre laughed. "Suzanne is definitely not matronly."

  "Oh." His tone made Katie uneasy.

  "Enough about her." He changed the topic, taking Katie's arm and directing her to the rail. "Tell me what you plan to do while you're here."

  "A little of everything, I suppose," she responded noncommittally.

  "I would like to spend as much time as possible with you during these next weeks," he told her earnestly.

  "Why, I'm very flattered and I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other." Katie was deliberately evasive.

  "Good." His approach was quick and slick as he pulled her tightly to him and kissed her passionately.

  Katie was stunned by his unexpected embrace and stood for a moment unmoving in his arms. When the shock wore off, she was furious. How dare he! And in full view on deck! Katie wanted to gag as Andre's tongue pillaged her mouth. Struggling against his chest, she was disgusted by his roaming hands and devouring kiss. It was only with the greatest effort that she finally managed to remove his probing fingers from her breast.

  "Mr. Montard!" she ordered when he broke off the kiss. "Unhand me!"

  "You play the part well, my sweet," Andre told her, his words slurred with his passion. Her kiss had been every bit as exciting as he'd imagined. "One more..."he murmured, capturing her lips once again in a wet, sloppy kiss.

  Katie had no doubts now about Christopher's embrace. There was absolutely no comparison. She realized that fighting Andre was useless, for even though he was a small man, he had great strength. So freezing herself, she allowed him no response at all. And when his tongue attempted to enter her mouth again, she bit him viciously. Katie was delighted when he abruptly let her go.

  "You..." Andre's fist clenched.

  "You, Mr. Montard, will one day learn that I mean what I say!" Turning away quickly, she stormed off to her cabin, leaving a frustrated Andre behind to nurse his bruised ego and very sore tongue.

  The Setting

  The morning had passed slowly for Suzanne Kingsford as she went about her myriad duties as mistress of Kingsford House. Sometimes, she found the role of Isaac Kingsford's wife a bit too restrictive.

  "Patsy," she instructed the black girl who accompanied her, "bring me a cool drink. I'll be on the gallery."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Suzanne moved gracefully out onto the wide porch. Even in her ordinary daygown she was a strikingly beautiful mature woman. Her raven black hair was pulled back into a soft chignon emphasizing the perfect bone structure of her face and her tip-tilted dark eyes gave her an almost gypsyish appearance. Her mouth was full, her lips naturally red and tempting. Careful protection of her skin had helped her maintain the pale complexion so valued by southern women. For an older, married woman, her figure was still firm and attractive. Having never had children, she had had no trouble staying slim. Her breasts were full, her waist small, her hips gently rounded.

  Standing in the shade of the gallery, she was the epitome of southern grace. She had been raised in beauty and gentility to become a great lady and in her own opinion, she had succeeded. But having already ac
complished at age twenty-six the major goal of her life, Suzanne felt something was lacking. All of her days had taken on a tedious sameness. The weekends of parties and balls were all she had to look forward to and even those had become routine... the same people, mouthing the same platitudes...

  Oh, how she longed for the freedom of her lost youth! She mourned the carefree years she had wasted so lightheartedly. If she had only known... But at the time Isaac had seemed to be the answer to her prayers. His age hadn't mattered, he had been rich and handsome and he'd wanted her. Who could resist such a man? Certainly not she. He had swept her away on a cloud of romance and they were married before she really had time to think about it. Not that she would have decided differently, for the prestige of being Mrs. Isaac Kingsford was worth any sacrifice... or so she'd thought-then.

  Now, Suzanne wasn't so sure. After eight years of a passionless marriage, she was bored. In the beginning, it hadn't been this way. Isaac had been eager to claim her virginal body as his own and on their wedding night, he had introduced her to the joys of shared connubial bliss with expertise and enthusiasm. But as soon as the novelty of having a young, willing wife had worn off, he had returned to his first real love.. .his quadroon mistress Cherie and their son Denis, whom he kept in considerable comfort in a house on Rampart St. in New Orleans.

  Suzanne hadn't found out about them right away for she'd been too innocent and too naive to suspect. But as the weeks passed and Isaac failed to return to her bed, Suzanne had become concerned. She had accidentally discovered the truth of their existence by overhearing a conversation between Lucille the cook and Roscoe, Isaac's manservant.

  Shattered, she'd taken to her bed for the better part of a week, all to no avail because Isaac never came home. Finally, her pride had gotten the bettor of her and she'd been forced to fight back. When Isaac sent word of his imminent return to the plantation, Suzanne had made certain that everything was perfect for him in hopes that he would be more inclined to make love to her and stay with her at Kingsford House. But all her eager efforts came to naught and, after being so rejected, she'd lost her temper, and confronted him with her knowledge of his illicit affairs.

  Isaac had been mildly surprised by her discovery, but was left unmoved by her childish tirade. He had informed her that he wanted no children from their union for he did not want the perfection of her body marred by childbirth. She was to be his companion when he was there, his hostess whenever he entertained, and she was always to look her best. If Suzanne did these things for him, he would give her anything she desired to keep her happy. What he did when he was not with her was, in his opinion, none of her business.

  Suzanne had loved him passionately in the early years but the passion had died when she realized that she meant no more than a bauble to him. He treated her now with a kind of warm-hearted indulgence, much as he would have a favored child.

  Though the desire she'd felt for him had faded, the need for physical intimacy had not. So, as the years had passed, Suzanne had discretely begun to take lovers. Men who could take what she offered and not demand more.

  Sighing, she sat down on one of the high-backed rockers that graced the gallery. It had been so long now since she'd been with a man... Maybe... just maybe, when Isaac returned the next night she would be able to entice him to her bed. The thought of strong arms holding her once again warmed her and leaning back, she closed her eyes letting the peace of the morning flow over her. She hoped that the mellow sounds of the plantation would soothe her discontented soul.

  Patsy reappeared and ever sensitive to the mood of her beautiful mistress, she quietly left the tall, iced glass of sweetened lemonade on the table by her side.

  "Thank you, Patsy," Suzanne spoke without opening her eyes, giving credence to the belief that she knew everything that happened at Kingsford House whether she witnessed it or not.

  Patsy scurried away, leaving Suzanne, once again, alone to think.

  She realized logically enough that there was no point in feeling sorry for herself. She had everything most women wanted money, a beautiful home on the river and a handsome husband. And if that husband was less than faithful... well, a lady dealt with it as best she could. Suzanne couldn't help but think, though, that a normal marriage with Isaac would have been more satisfying than the life she had now: a life with many lovers but little real intimacy.

  Looking back, she supposed that the months last year she had shared with Andre Montard had been the best of her life. He had been an aggressive lover who had not been afraid to dominate her... something she secretly enjoyed. Isaac left her so much to her own devices that she found a masterful, forceful man most sexually stimulating.

  A flash of heat surged through her at the memory of Andre's wildly erotic lovemaking. He had taught her more in their short time together than Isaac had in all their years as man and wife. A wildfire of coiling desire spread through her loins as she thought of his arousing touch and his uncanny ability to know just what she needed to achieve satisfaction.

  Suppressing a shudder of excitement, she knew now what she must do. She had to find a new lover... a man who would be a challenge for her. She found it titillating to imagine what he would be like and where she would meet him. Lost in her daydreams, her passion grew. With great frustration she realized that there would be no release this day from the yearnings that plagued her.

  Rising from her seat, intent on getting on with her work, she was about to re-enter the house when the whistle of a steamer pulling in at the Kingsford Landing drew her attention. She first thought that perhaps Isaac was returning early from his trip, but she knew it couldn't be him for his meeting wasn't until the next morning. Finally, she remembered... it had to be Isaac's niece and nephew from Missouri. He had told her that his brother's children were coming for a visit and she had had both guest rooms prepared for over a week now in anticipation of their arrival.

  Glad for the diversion, she called for the carriage to be brought around. Having some young children in the house would definitely be a change and she had secretly looked forward to it.

  Having packed their clothes much earlier in the morning, Katie and Mark waited on deck for their first look at Kingsford House. The morning was warm and sunny and they had both enjoyed a comfortable stroll on deck before pausing by the rail to watch the passing landscape.

  "Good morning, Mark, Katie," Emife Montard's voice broke through their reverie as he and Andre joined than. "Waiting for your first glimpse of Kingsford House?"

  "Good morning, Emil, Andre. Yes, from what I understand, we should be there soon."

  "We'll probably dock in about fifteen minutes," Andre told them.

  Katie stifled a groan. The last person in the world she wanted to see was Andre Montard.

  "Good morning, Katie." Andre spoke intimately and Katie wished she could run screaming from his slimy presence.

  "Mr. Montard," she answered coldly.

  "I'd like to apologize for last night." He talked so only she could hear him.

  Katie gave him a chilling look. "I would hope so, Mr. Montard. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see to some things in my cabin. Good day." Turning to Mark, she said, "I'm going to my stateroom for a few minutes. I'll meet you back here."

  "Fine," Mark replied absently, as he listened intently to something Emil was saying.

  Andre watched her walk away, admiring the jaunty sway of her hips and wondering if she would be as exciting in bed as he expected her to be. One day, very soon, he was going to find out.

  Katie entered her cabin and slammed the door behind her. Ugh! Why did Andre Montard have to show up and ruin an otherwise enjoyable morning? Sitting down on her bed and leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. Her expression was thunderous. Why couldn't it have been Christopher she'd run into? But there had been no sign of him and Katie felt that he was deliberately avoiding her after their evening together had ended on such a strained note. Disappointed that she hadn't had the oppo
rtunity to talk with Christopher, she stood and glanced around the room, making sure that all her possessions were packed and ready to go. Leaving her cabin, she headed slowly to meet Mark, hoping that Andre was not there. But as luck would have it, Andre was there, involved in a deep conversation with her brother.

  "He was robbed?" Mark was saying when at last Katie joined them.

  "Last night... he was on his way back to his stateroom when someone attacked him from behind."

  "Was Fletcher badly injured?"

  At the mention of Christopher's name, Katie came to full attention.

  "What happened? Has Christopher been hurt?"

  "He was robbed," Mark informed her.

  Andre scowled at Katie's interest in Christopher Fletcher and her use of his Christian name. It was a damned shame that he hadn't had the time to throw Fletcher overboard as he'd planned.

  "On board? Was he injured?" her concern was very real.

  "Hit over the head, I think," Andre answered her coldly.

  "It's true that I didn't see him on deck at all yesterday..." Mark was pensive. "I hope he wasn't hurt seriously."

  "Thank you for your concern, Mark, but as you can see, I'm fine." The sound of Christopher's voice was a balm on Katie's naves.

  Turning to face him, unable to disguise her delight at seeing him and finding him safe, Katie smiled brightly.

  "I'm so glad you're all right," she told him, touching his arm in an open friendly gesture that surprised Christopher. "Mr. Montard was just telling us that you were robbed?"

  "Yes, I was," he told than coolly. "The thief got away but he left me with a sizeable headache."

  Andre smirked to himself. The fool was lucky to be alive. Being forced to observe Katie and Fletcher grated on Andre, but there was little he could do. He knew now that after the way she'd reacted to him last night, he would have to go more easily with her. She needed to be coaxed and tamed, not dominated as was his usual method. Andre decided as he watched her, that since she was so special, he would change just for her. He would treat her tenderly, with control, and woo her gently. But the sight of her touching Fletcher so casually filled him with a rage to kill. Gritting his teeth, he managed a polite smile and made his apologies.