The Officer's Desire

by Colleen French

  She heard him sigh heavily. "No, I'll go."

  "You don't have to."

  "I'll go." he answered harshly.

  "Look, I'm trying to help. 'Tisn't my fault she run off!" Cassie immediately regretted her words. "I'm sorry." she whispered.

  "It's all right." He sat up to blow out the lamp beside their bed. "I know you're just trying to help. We'll go in a few days, but don't mention it to Mother and Father until I get a chance to talk to them. He's liable to forbid her to come home if she wants to."

  Cassie rolled her eyes in the darkness. "I doubt it." she answered, her eyes drifting shut.

  "Hell, what a mess!" Devon rolled next to her, slinging his arm over Cassie's waist to draw her closer. "Good night." he murmured.

  "'Night, love."

  Devon rested his hand on Cassie's cloaked shoulder, staring out over the Chesapeake Bay. Waves beat at the bow of the sloop, spraying them with a light mist of salt water. Ahead loomed the western shore of Maryland and the thriving seaport of Annapolis.

  "I have to say this has been a better trip than the last I took by sea." The wind howled, whipping the sails with such force that it was difficult for Cassie to speak above the sound of slapping canvas. She peered over the rail of the Sally Mae, as she recalled her voyage to Long Island last summer.

  Devon scowled. He'd been in an ill humor since Cassie had told him about this Mary woman that served at The King's Hound. He knew it wasn't his sister Mary; she'd sooner die than disgrace the family. But Cassie had been so adamant about going, with or without him, that he had decided to humor her and go as well. With his friends in Philadelphia it had taken only two days to find that Anne's husband John was being held aboard one of the prison ships anchored in Wallabout Bay just off Brooklyn. Devon had already initiated a prisoner trade and had sent a message to Anne, confirming her husband still lived. Now, they would just have to wait and see what happened. With this business aside, Devon and Cassie had ridden to Chestertown and set sail for Annapolis.

  Cassie linked her arm in Devon's, staring out over the icy blue water. "We'll go to your cousin's first." she shouted above the wind. "Spend the night and then go to The King's Hound tomorrow."

  "No." Devon answered with brevity. "We'll go to The Hound first."

  "Are you sure you'd not rather—"

  Devon cut off her words. "I said we'll go first. I want to get this over with so we can visit with Kyle and Susan."

  By the time the Sally Mae docked and unloaded its passengers, it was nearly the hour for the evening meal. Devon flagged down a coach for hire, and he and Cassie soon found themselves on the steps of The King's Hound tavern. Devon paid the coach driver to take their trunk to his cousin's as well as a note saying they would be along after they'd supped.

  Cassie held Devon's hand tightly. "Shall we have a bite and see for ourselves?" A huge wooden sign sporting a painting of a fox hound and the King's crest hung over the door of the tavern, creaking as it blew in the wind.

  Devon pushed open the door and stepped back to let Cassie pass. He made an audible sound of relief when, at first glance, he spotted no one who resembled his sister. They took a seat near the massive fireplace on the hack wall and Devon signaled a barmaid.

  "How might I help you, sir?" She eyed Cassie, giving her a nod. "Mistress."

  "Whiskey for me, wine for the lady."

  "Whiskey." Cassie piped up, shrugging off her pelisse.

  "Ma'am?" The barmaid stared.

  "Whiskey. I'll have whiskey with my husband, and be sure it's not watered down."

  The maid looked to Devon, but he kept his eyes averted, studying the maids that moved in and out of the kitchen and through the great room. She coughed. "Anything else?"

  "What are you serving this evening?"

  "Oyster stew, bread, cheese, baked goose, and gingerbread."

  "We'll take that, too." Cassie reached out with her hands to warm them by the fire. She glanced up at the maid who still stood there. "That'll be all."

  The maid looked from Devon to Cassie and then back to Devon and then scurried off. "What?" Cassie asked. "She doesn't think I know what my husband likes?"

  Devon chuckled. "Now tell the truth. In The Patriot, who usually ordered the meal? Wife or husband?"

  "The husband, and he usually didn't order what she liked." She flashed him a grin, squeezing his hand. She was dressed in another of the gowns Devon had had made for her. This one was a pale blue with red and white flowers and a green vine pattern running through it. She wore her hair swept to one side to fall over her left shoulder with ribbons laced through the curls.

  "You see." Devon told her. "She's not here. I see no one who looks anything like her."

  "So we've done nothing but waste a few days of your furlough." She shrugged her shoulders. "What of it? If Mary isn't here, you can go back to Dover tomorrow and start investigating her disappearance."

  The barmaid that had taken their order returned with two whiskeys. "'Ere you are, sir. Ma'am." She slid the drinks across the table.

  "What's your name?" Cassie spoke up, startling the girl.

  "Sammy, ma'am." She wiped her hands nervously on her stained apron.

  "Could you tell me, Sammy, is there a woman by the name of Mary who works here?" Cassie heard Devon groan, but she ignored him.

  "Yes, ma'am." The girl bobbed her head.

  "Could you send her out?"

  "I can try. She ain't too friendly."

  Cassie slid her a copper pence from her drawstring reticule. "Thank you, Sammy."

  Sammy snatched the coin from the table and disappeared through a door that Cassie assumed led to the kitchen. The King's Hound's great room was much larger than The Patriot's and was packed with a Saturday evening crowd. It was difficult to see anything across the room because of the mingling patrons and the smoke from their pipes.

  "Was that necessary?" Devon questioned, scowling.

  "Indeed it was. Why sit here and wait? This Mary will come out, we'll see that it's not your sister, and then we'll have our meal." Cassie was sure it was his sister, but she humored him.

  "I'm beginning to think this entire—" Devon cut his sentence short, staring out across the public room.

  Cassie's eyes followed his. There, coming from the kitchen was his sister Mary. She wore a common blue tick gown and a near-white apron, and she was sporting a black eye.

  Devon gasped, making a choking sound as he stumbled to his feet. She was coming toward them now, a tray of tankards balanced on one hip. "I'm leaving. Are you coming?" he barked. He was already reaching for Cassie's cloak.

  "Hell no! You're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere. You're going to sit down and speak with your sister. I'm sure there's an explanation."

  "I'm not interested." He slung his own cloak over his shoulders. "I'll wait for you outside. I'm warning you, come alone." Before Cassie could get from behind the table to stop him, he was gone.

  "If it isn't Cassie O'Flynn." Mary said cynically, dropping her tray on the table.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  "Cassie Marsh." Cassie corrected, studying Mary's worn face. "What the hell are you doing here? Everyone thinks you're dead."

  "I'd say I am, wouldn't you?" Mary wiped her smoke-stung eyes with a balled fist. "He couldn't even stay to speak with me, could he?"

  "You have to admit it's quite a shock. Sit down." Cassie motioned to Devon's chair.

  "I'm working." Mary's face was void of emotion. Her hair hung in oily strands and a piece had been cut or yanked out on the side. She looked fifteen years older than she had in August

  "Just sit, Mary. I want to talk to you." Cassie slid her Devon's untouched drink. "Here. You look like you need this."

  Mary slumped into the chair, accepting the whiskey gratefully. She drank it with one tip of the pewter tankard. "What's there to say?" She spread out her arms. "This says it all, doesn't it?"

  "What happened, Mary? Tell me."

  She shook her head, leaning to re
st it on the table. "No need, is there? Just go and leave me alone."

  "No! I won't do it!" Cassie slapped the table vigorously. "I came to bring you home."

  "And what of my brother? He didn't come to bring me home, did he?"

  "He's angry with you. He's hurt. He'll get over it."

  Mary raised her head off the table. "But I won't. I wish I were dead. I'd kill myself if I had the courage."

  "That's nonsense, Mary. Nothing can be that bad. Now, tell me what happened."

  She let out a weary sigh. "Could I have another?" She tapped the pewter tankard. Cassie gave a nod, signaling for another round of whiskey, and Mary began her sad tale. "I met David on the street in Dover, near the bakery. He said he liked cherry tarts and then he asked me to come to his rooms." Mary rested her eyes on Cassie's face. "Doesn't that shock you?"

  "Nothing could shock me. Wars have a way of doing that to people. Go on."

  Mary sighed heavily, waiting for the maid to slide the fresh drinks across the table. When she was gone, Mary spoke again. "I saw him two or three times a week. He was one of the King's men, but not a soldier. He made friends with the people of different towns, got them to reveal information on the rebels and then moved on to another town."

  "You didn't tell them anything, Mary?" Cassie asked sadly.

  She shook her head. "I didn't, but it wasn't for lack of trying. I could never remember anything pertinent enough to be of some use to him. Then he got orders to move on to Annapolis. The townspeople of Dover were beginning to get suspicious. I begged him to take me and he did. Then, after he arrived, he expected me to entertain his friends." Her words were without emotion, as if she were speaking of someone else. "I just couldn't do it. He soon tired of me and kicked me out of his rooms in the middle of the night." She ran her fingers through her dirty hair. "And here I am, working for my bread and a straw tick in the attic to sleep on."

  Cassie slid her hand across the table to cover Mary's. "I'm sorry." she whispered.

  "What should you be sorry for? Kind of changed places, haven't we? You ought to be well pleased with my downfall."

  "I'm sorry that you were so unhappy with your life that you'd run off like this. But 'tisn't the end of your life. You're going to come home now, with me."

  Tears were slipping down Mary's cheeks now. "I can't. I couldn't face the shame." She dropped her head in her hands and sobbed.

  "You can come home and you will. No one need know anything. We'll leave the gossips of Kent County to make up their own explanations. They would anyway. In a year they'll have completely forgotten the whole incident. They'll be wagging their tongues about something else. Now come." Cassie got to her feet.

  "I want to go home." Mary wiped her eyes with the starched lace handkerchief Cassie handed her. "But what of my brother?"

  "I'll handle him. Now you go and tell the tavern keeper you're going. Do you owe anyone coin?" When Mary shook her head no, Cassie reached in her reticule. "Take this money and get a room at the inn across the street. Get a bath and wait for me there. I'll bring you clothes in the morning and we'll catch a noon sloop to Chestertown."

  Mary nodded numbly as Cassie pulled on her pelisse and tugged at the buttons. "Why are you doing this, Cassie O'Flynn? I certainly showed you no kindness at Marshview."

  "Because your brother loves you. Now go and do as I say." She dropped several coins on the table and gave Mary's shoulder a squeeze as she passed her. "I'll see you in the morning."

  Weaving through the crowd of evening customers, Cassie made her way to the door. Just as she reached it, an arm shot out from a table to catch her around her waist. Cassie's eyes flew open as she turned to face her assailant. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

  The drunken gentleman gave her a crooked grin, coming to his feet, his arm still around her. "How about a drink for the lady before she rushes off?"

  Cassie gave the gentleman in the velvet coat one disgusted look and snatched a tankard of ale off his table to pour it directly over his head.

  The man called out with surprise, releasing her to wipe at his coat. "God sakes, woman!" he cursed as the other gentlemen at his table broke into laughter.

  "That'll teach you to keep your hands off of respectable women." Cassie chastised, giving her pelisse a shake. She looked up at the other men at the table, ignoring her assailant with the ale running down his face. "Good even', gentlemen." she said with a nod, and continued on her way. She reached the door of the tavern and swung it open, slamming it behind her with a satisfying bang.

  Devon's laughter echoed in the bedchamber, his deep tenor voice filling Cassie's heart with joy. "How did I ever live without you?" he asked her, propping himself up on one elbow. It was just past dawn and his cousin's house in Annapolis was still quiet.

  "I ask myself the same question." Cassie answered.

  He grinned lazily. "What, how I lived without you?"

  "No, you goose! How I lived without you!" She rolled over on her side to face him, pulling the heavy counterpane over her bare breasts.

  "You still would have done great things." he answered tenderly, reaching out to catch a lock of fire-lit hair.

  "Perhaps, but I'd never have been this happy." She caught his hand, pressing her love-bruised lips to it. They had been up half of the night making love, and then he'd woken her at dawn, stroking her body until she quivered with pleasure.

  "I think you make yourself happy, Cas. You see what you want and you go after it. You're not afraid."

  "I am afraid. I'd have never gone after you that first night I met you in The Patriot. I'd have let you walk out of my life if you hadn't come back."

  "No, you wouldn't have. You'd have found me. You knew we were meant for each other." he murmured.

  "But I'd never have guessed you'd wanted me. It's a fairy tale come true, the barmaid and the handsome gentleman."

  Devon smiled. "Come here." He held out his hand and she slid over until she rested beneath him. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

  She nodded, running her fingers over his full lips. "Last night, but tell me again."

  He brushed his lips against her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids. "You're my life, Cassie. My breath is your breath, my heart is yours. If I ever lost you, there'd be no reason to live on."

  "You have Marshview, not just me." she whispered.

  "But I don't want Marshview, not if I can't have it with you. I want it for you, and for our children." He sat up, lifting her into his arms and bringing up the counterpane to cover them both.

  Cassie ran her fingers through his silky raven hair. "Is this the way it will be, when the war is over?" She studied his dark eyes.

  "It will, only better. Every year it will be better. We'll grow together like two saplings, intertwining until we're one." He wrapped one of his fingers around hers. "We're going to grow old together, you and I."

  "You'd better keep your head low, then." she admonished, shaking a finger. "I'll not have you blown away by English cannon."

  "I told you, I'm too mean for that." He laughed, kissing the top of her head, and then tugged on the counterpane until he revealed one creamy breast.

  "Don't you ever get "enough." she asked teasingly, yanking the woolen cover from his hand.

  "Me? I can't get enough? Who made love to her husband until he was exhausted beyond thought and then begged him to let a certain sister come home?" The anger was gone from his voice. Sometime during the night, wrapped in his wife's arms, he had realized he was being unfair to Mary. Cassie was right—everyone did deserve a. second chance. Besides, no matter what she'd done, she was still flesh and blood; she was still a Marsh. "I fear you took unfair advantage with your womanly wiles."

  "I did not." She raised her dark eyebrows haughtily. "I was just putting you in the right frame of mind, nothing more."

  "Is that right?" Devon growled deep in his throat, making her giggle. "Well, how about putting me in the right frame of mind, as you put it, for a little breakfast?"
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  "A little breakfast, or a big breakfast?" She ran a finger along his jawline.

  "Witch!" he accused as he pressed her into the tick.

  Three nights later, Cassie entered the grand dining hall at Marshview on Devon's arm. Everyone had gathered to welcome Mary home. The sisters were all there, the married ones with their spouses and children. Even Mary's husband and children were present. Though Mary had told Cassie her husband had taken a separate bedchamber, he had allowed her to come home and take her seat beside him at their table. The rest, Mary knew, would take time.

  When Cassie entered the room, Judith's youngest, Elizabeth, raced across the Persian carpet to tug on Cassie's gown. "Aunt Cashie! You come back!" The dark-haired three-year-old beamed.

  "Elizabeth! Let go of Cassie's gown." Judith cried across the room. "You'll muss it!"

  Cassie released Devon and stooped to be eye level with the child. "It's all right, Bethy. Who cares about a silly old dress anyway?" She lifted her up and swung her onto one hip. "I was only gone a couple of days—did you miss me?"

  Elizabeth's head bobbed up and down. "I mished you much! Can you come and play wiv me? Grandmama gave me dishes for Christmas wiv li'l flowers on them. Me and Carmen, we're gonna have a tea party."

  "You are?" Cassie's eyes widened. "Are you tellin' me I'm invited?"

  "Would you come?" Elizabeth breathed with awe. She held tightly to Cassie's neck, her legs wrapped around Cassie's waist.

  "Not tonight, because I have to have my meal with Uncle Devon, but if you could hold off until tomorrow, I could come to your house." Cassie smoothed the smocking of the little girl's gown.

  "Would it be all right, Mama?" Elizabeth turned to her mother. "Aunt Cashie says she'll come for tea tomorrow."

  Judith laughed. "Aunt Cashie is always welcome."

  Elizabeth turned back to Cassie. "When you come, would you bring apple tarts for our tea party?"