Elusive Flame

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  Stephen Oaks was still perplexed as he inclined his head toward the accommodations next door. “What do you want done with this one once it’s cleaned out?”

  “Outfit it for my lady’s comfort.…”

  “Your lady…?” Oaks’s jaw sagged as he glanced from one to the other in confusion. “You mean…your…your wife, sir?”

  “Is there another lady on board?” Beau questioned sardonically, settling his fists on his narrow hips. “Of course, I mean my wife!”

  Oaks was sure his hearing would never be the same. “But I…I thought—”

  “Don’t think, dammit! Just do as you’re told!”

  “Aye, Captain.” Looking extremely nervous and befuddled, the mate stumbled from the cabin with admirable speed, managing enough presence of mind to close the door gently behind him.

  Cerynise almost felt sorry for the man, except that she was far more worried about herself and what might be forthcoming from her husband. She waited in trepidation as Beau pivoted about and stalked to the gallery windows, as if he couldn’t bear to look upon her another moment. Gazing out upon the river, he clamped his hands behind him again and stood with his long, darkly garbed legs splayed in a rigid stance, his polished boots planted firmly apart as Cerynise quietly began packing her belongings for her move to another cabin. She started as Beau’s voice broke the silence.

  “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, too,” he challenged without turning. “You would have let me make love to you if not for the intrusion.”

  Cerynise knew only too well that he was right, but she held her tongue, seeing no advantage in discussing how completely she had been swept away by his ardor.

  “What didn’t you like about it?” Beau continued stoically. “Were you averse to touching me?”

  Cerynise opened her mouth to deny the possibility and then clamped it closed, realizing she would only be giving him incentive to press for her submission if she let him know how thoroughly she had enjoyed caressing him.

  “You refuse to say anything about what happened between us?” he rumbled.

  “I dare not,” she meekly replied, facing his stalwart back. “I can only say that I found no displeasure in what we did together. It was quite delightful, in fact, but we both know the consequences I would eventually reap by allowing you to have your way with me. Until I’m certain there is no doubt in your mind about wanting me as your wife, not only now but in the years to come, then ’tis best I withhold myself from you until our marriage is annulled.”

  “So, you lay your trap for me like all the other women who wheedle men into marriage,” Beau accused snidely. “You give me a little tidbit to savor and thereafter dangle the sweetmeat on a string before me until I am besieged with anguish and finally consent to yield you everything you want if you would but give me what I seek in return.”

  Cerynise could feel her temper rising at his callous conclusion. “Sir, may I remind you that marriage was your solution to leaving London with me and your ship.” She glowered as he faced her and continued on, her temper undiminished. “A titular arrangement was your idea, sir, but now you whine and bemoan the fact that I hold you to your proposal. Don’t give me any of your sniveling excuses about how difficult it may be for a man to be around a woman. That’s the price you’ll have to pay for wanting to return to your bachelor status once we reach Charleston! I haven’t asked you for anything more than what you’ve already given, and I urge you to be gentleman enough to do the same.”

  With one last scowling glance, she strode to the door, yanked it open and made her departure in a decided huff.

  “Dammit, Cerynise, come back here!”

  Ignoring his gruff command, she seized her skirts and fairly flew along the corridor and up the stairs. She could hear his rumbling curses and his running footfalls in hot pursuit, but they only served to put wings to her feet.

  She was breathless and flushed by the time she neared the last step. One glimpse at her gained the curious attention of nearly everybody within close proximity of the companionway, but what Cerynise hadn’t expected was a pair of young, stylishly garbed gentlemen who were just crossing in front of the stairs as she bolted to the deck. Their resulting collision caused her to reel haphazardly, prompting one of the gallants to gasp and grab her arm in an attempt to halt her fall. At once, the man found his own wrist seized in a steely grasp.

  “Take your hands off my wife!” Beau commanded, having leapt up the stairs three at a time in his haste to catch her. The jealous rage he had felt at seeing another man touch his wife nearly caused him to launch a fist into that one’s face.

  “Your pardon, sir,” the gentleman apologized hurriedly as he loosened his grip on the lady and stepped back. “She seemed in danger of falling. Otherwise, I would never have been so bold.”

  Mollified, Beau bestowed a stiff smile upon the man. It was the best he could manage at the moment, for he was still enraged with Cerynise for having fled. He caught her hand, and because he promptly sensed from the icy look she tossed him that she was determined to reclaim her freedom, he tucked the captured hand out of sight behind his back, where he held it firmly. Directing his gaze toward the man, Beau finally managed a verbal response. “I’m sure my wife is grateful for your assistance, sir. Thank you, gentlemen. Now, if you will excuse us, we were discussing a matter of grave importance.…”

  “Are you the captain?” the second gentleman asked, seeming suddenly hopeful.

  Beau gave the man a stilted nod. “Yes.”

  The two strangers exchanged relieved smiles before the second one spoke again. “Your mate said you were indisposed, Captain, but we’ve traveled some distance to discuss a matter which should be of great interest to you. We have in our possession some rare artifacts which a merchant, who knows you, said might intrigue you since you’re a collector of beautiful art.”

  “Just what are these rare artifacts?”

  “Paintings, sir,” the first gentleman answered. “We’ve brought one with us so you can see the quality we’re talking about. Might you be interested in looking at it, sir?”

  Beau could have chosen a better time than the present to give his attention to what they had brought, especially since Cerynise was still trying to get free of him, albeit surreptitiously, but he gave his consent, tenaciously hanging on to the slender wrist. In a moment the second gentleman, who had hastened to leave the ship, came back carrying a framed canvas wrapped in a soft cloth.

  “Wait until you see this, Captain,” the first one said with a buoyant smile as he glanced at Beau. He awaited the unwrapping of the piece with close attention and then, as his companion turned the painting toward the captain, he swept his hand in a flamboyant flourish before it. “Have you ever seen anything so magnificent, sir?”

  Cerynise gasped, recognizing one of her own paintings. It was a scene of a woman carrying a child and a basket of food to her working husband, who was holding his arms out to take the curly-headed youngster. Seeing it again under such circumstances, Cerynise had the greatest desire to laugh. Although the two men were oblivious to the compliment they had given her by claiming it was a rare artifact of highest quality, she squelched her amusement and leaned near Beau to murmur. “Dearest,” she cooed for the benefit of the two, “could I speak with you in private for just a moment, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  Beau was confused by her endearment, but he made their excuses. In presenting his back to the men, he was forced to free his wife’s hand but he was instantly gratified when she slipped it demurely into the bend of his arm. After moving away a significant space to where they could talk privately, he faced her. “What is it, Cerynise?”

  “Beau, I really think those men are trying to dupe you.”

  He frowned in bemusement. “What makes you say that? The painting is very fine. It has a quality about it that I rarely see…such as the masters have painted in the past.”

  Cerynise beamed brightly as she gazed up into his face. “Thank you.”

&nb
sp; The truth struck Beau, but his amazement was swiftly compounded by his admiration of the piece. “You painted that?”

  She responded with an eager nod. “Aye, and it sold for nearly five thousand pounds.”

  “I never dreamed you could paint that well,” Beau admitted, feeling in great awe of her talent. He slashed his hand as if to negate his statement. “What I mean is that after you told me what your paintings usually sold for, I was expecting something far more commendable than my first notions of your ability, but I never expected talent worthy of a Rembrandt.”

  “Oh, Beau, what a lovely compliment.” She smiled gently and lightly caressed his hand, all thoughts of anger expelled from her mind and spirit. “That’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever, ever had.”

  “’Tis simple truth, my dear girl.”

  Cerynise coyly played with a button on his shirt, causing his heart to lurch rather strangely in his chest. “Then you’ll tell those two you’re onto their schemes and that they’d better fly before you throw them overboard like you threatened to do with Alistair?”

  Beau raised a hand invitingly toward the companionway. “Why don’t you await me in my cabin, my dear? I don’t wish you to hear our discussion. It may well burn your ears.”

  “Yes, of course,” she replied, feeling immensely sorry for the men all of a sudden.

  Beau waited until he heard the cabin door close behind her before approaching the two. “Gentlemen, I’m very interested in this painting you’ve brought and am wondering if you may have others painted by the same artist.”

  “I fear not, sir. This one was so rare, we feel enormously privileged that it came into our possession by the passing of an uncle. But we have others which are just as valuable.”

  “I’m not interested in any others. Just this one. How much will you take for it?”

  “Seeing as how it’s so exceptional, we’ll have to have at least twenty thousand pounds for it.”

  “I’ll give you seven, not a farthing more.”

  The first man was set to dicker. “I don’t know, sir.…”

  Beau started to turn aside, and after a quick exchange of anxiously querying glances between the two, the second hastened to speak. “However, Captain, we seem to be in a desperate bind at this time.…”

  “The painting isn’t stolen, is it?” Beau pressed, settling a suspicious gaze upon the men.

  “Oh, no, sir! Absolutely not!” the first declared. And then his cheeks darkened in chagrin as he confessed, “Truth be, sir, we’ve been cast out of our family home after our tailors presented our father a bill for our clothing. He said unless we learned to control our spending, we’ll never see a shilling of our inheritance. In the meantime, our tailors are threatening us with dire consequences if we don’t pay them. We’ll take the seven. It won’t be enough to settle our debts, but it will placate our tailors until we manage to sell the other paintings.”

  “How did you come by this one?”

  “My mother recently purchased it, along with others of rare quality. She intended to add them to her collection, but when my father forbade her to give us coin, she gifted us with her paintings instead.”

  Satisfied that the pair were telling the truth, Beau gave them a clipped nod. “I’ll have my mate fetch the money for you and a receipt for you to sign.”

  The two smiled and waited patiently as Beau moved away to talk to Oaks. “I need you to go down to my cabin and beg admittance from my wife, at least long enough for you to fetch the strongbox and a receipt. If she should ask…which I doubt that she will…tell her some merchants have come aboard to collect what is due them. Count out seven thousand pounds, make the receipt out for that sum, and then return here.”

  Stephen Oaks had been admiring the painting as his captain gave instructions and couldn’t resist an inquiry. “A new acquisition, Captain?” He smiled as he drew Beau’s gaze to the painting. “’Tis a beauty, sir.”

  “So is the one who painted it.”

  Oaks looked at him in surprise. “You mean…?”

  “My wife,” Beau answered, allowing a spartan smile to curve his lips. “But it’s not for her. ’Twill be a Christmas gift for my parents.”

  “A very nice one, ’twill be, sir.”

  “Aye, I’m sure of that, but I’d prefer that you not speak of this matter to my wife.”

  “I’m swore to secrecy, Captain,” Oaks declared, clasping a hand to his breast.

  “Good, now get along with you.”

  Stephen had gone only a few paces when he paused and half turned with another question. “Do you still want the men to clear out the cabin near yours, sir?”

  His brows gathering in dark gloom, Beau faced away. “Aye, Mr. Oaks. ’Twould seem my wife would like more privacy than my cabin affords.”

  The mate heaved a sigh, wondering if the lady knew what she was asking of her husband. Or if she had any indication what she would be subjecting the crew to while their captain was so out of sorts. “’Tis a pity, sir, to be sure.”

  “Aye, Mr. Oaks, that it is.”

  Some time later Cerynise entered the small cabin that she had been given and nearly shuddered as she glanced around the gloomy interior. Blank, windowless walls seemed to close in around her from all four sides in the narrow room, which she roughly estimated was less than a quarter of the size of Beau’s cabin. The only relief came from the door, but only because she had left it ajar. She had no doubt that with her abnormal dread of being closeted in tiny, cramped spaces she’d suffer exceedingly during the voyage home.

  A bunk occupied one end, but it was much smaller than the captain’s and, instead of a soft feather comforter, rough woolen blankets had been tucked in around the mattress. She ran a hand musefully over the pillowcases and sheets, smelling their clean but bland odor, and felt an inexplicable melancholy invading the area very near her heart. She quickly blinked away a start of tears and took a deep breath to fortify herself before considering the rest of the meager furnishings. A washstand with pitcher and basin resided beneath a small mirror hanging on the wall. A tiny table and a single chair near the bed would have to suffice for any meals she would partake of in the cabin. Other than that, a battered sea chest, butted up against the wall, left little space for her to move around.

  “Is it to your liking, my dear?”

  The familiar voice wrenched a start from her, and when she faced Beau in trembling disquiet, she found him standing in the doorway with a shoulder braced against the doorjamb. Her chin lifted in obstinate pride as she contemplated the complacent smile that lightly touched his handsome lips.

  “’Twill do,” she replied stiltedly.

  He tilted his dark head at a curious angle as his eyes probed the unwavering dark greenish orbs that stared back at him with cool indifference. “Are you sure?”

  Cerynise nodded stoically. “I’ll have my privacy and now I won’t have to worry about intruding upon yours. Considering all of that, why shouldn’t it suffice?”

  The wide shoulders lifted briefly in a casual shrug. “Oh, I’m sure it would serve the needs of any other passenger, but I seem to remember from years back that you had a fear of being shut up in anything small and airless. I especially recall when some of my classmates sought to play a prank on you and locked you in that old trunk in your father’s barn. When I followed your screams and finally let you out, you were in such a panic you locked your arms around my neck and nearly strangled me before I could get you calmed down.”

  Every instinct within Cerynise rallied to take offense at the supposition that he had deliberately chosen this cabin for no other purpose than to see her completely miserable. “The Beasley boys were a mean, rowdy bunch, as I remember. They always did take delight in playing on others’ fears.” She fixed Beau with a coolly querying gaze. “Was that your intent as well, Captain?”

  “You said that all you’d need would be a small space to sleep,” he reminded her. “Considering the cargo I’m taking back to Charleston, this was the best I
could offer you. The other cabins are larger, but after making room for you, they’re now stacked to the ceiling. This was the only cabin I could spare.”

  “Could or wanted?”

  Beau was not above laying out her options. “If you don’t like the accommodations, madam, you can give up this nonsense and come back to my cabin. I’ve told you before I don’t normally take passengers aboard my ship. You’re the exception, and I’m sure as hell not going to throw my cargo overboard so you can have a cabin that suits your personal requirements.”

  Cerynise felt her own ire rising at his terseness. “If you think I’m going to crawl back to your cabin, Beau Birmingham, and beg you to let me stay, then you’ll be disappointed to know that I’ll rot in here before I do.”

  Beau flared at her stubborn declaration. “Suit yourself, my dear, but if you should decide differently, my cabin door will always be open to you even if you don’t beg me to take you in.”

  Stephen Oaks descended the companionway and, upon espying his captain in the corridor, hurried to join him at the door. When he caught sight of Cerynise standing in the tiny cabin, he swept off his cap and, with a ready smile, inquired, “Would you be liking your baggage carried in now, Mrs. Birmingham?”

  “Whenever it’s convenient, Mr. Oaks,” she said solemnly. “There’s no rush.”

  The mate grinned at her for so long Beau grew perturbed. “Was there anything else you wanted to ask my wife, Mr. Oaks?”

  “Well, actually there was,” the mate replied, ignoring the peevish frown that presently resided on the captain’s face. “Seeing as how these quarters are unfit for a lady, I was going to suggest that your wife use my cabin. I’m sure she’ll be far more comfortable in mine on the voyage home.”

  “And where will you bunk?” Beau asked acidly, resenting the man’s interference.

  “I’ll be perfectly happy slinging a hammock with the crew,” Stephen answered amiably. “Truth be, I’ve missed the camaraderie below deck since I’ve been advanced to my present position.”

  “That’s the price of being first mate,” Beau reminded him curtly. “Your authority over them must be maintained. I simply cannot allow it.”