Elusive Flame

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  Agog with an unwilling fascination at the fury of her handsome husband, Cerynise blurted out an answer totally unrelated to his question. “I was just about to knock on the door.”

  She truly hadn’t meant to sound flippant. Indeed, nothing had been further from her mind. But in the face of such flaring emotions emanating from this man who towered over her, all reason had fled.

  The dubious scowl that Beau slanted down upon her suggested that he had serious doubts about her sanity. “You left the ship without even so much as a whisper to anyone,” he accused. “You didn’t even say good-bye. Nor did you even hint of your intentions to leave the ship without me.”

  “You were busy, and I didn’t wish to disturb you,” Cerynise replied in a soft, quavering voice. “It seemed an appropriate time to leave.”

  “Appropriate, hell!” he snarled. “Inappropriate would be more like it. I left everything to come after you.”

  “I’m sorry if I angered you, Beau,” she murmured contritely. “I really didn’t think it would matter.”

  “Well, it did matter! A lot, in fact! One moment you were there, where I could see you, and the next, you had fled. I searched the ship for you, unable to believe that you’d leave without a word, and then one of my men told me that he had seen you slipping through the crowd. As difficult as it was to accept, I should have known. You’ve proven yourself quite adept at escaping at the most inconvenient times. In fact, if I didn’t know better, madam, I’d be inclined to think you have a wide, yellow streak running down your back.”

  Taking offense, Cerynise raised her chin a notch at his insinuation. “I’m no coward, sir.”

  Beau snorted in disagreement. “Right now, madam, I’d say that isn’t exactly the truth. But then, I’m the one from whom you fly away every chance you get and, in so doing, leave me so riled up inside I’ve oft considered the pleasure it might give me to commit mayhem on your very fetching backside.”

  Cerynise stepped back, unconsciously clasping a hand over her abdomen. “You wouldn’t dare…”

  Beau was incredulous that she should even suggest that he was serious. “Do you honestly believe I would?”

  Her slender shoulders lifted in a lame shrug. “I’ve never seen you so angry with me before.”

  “That’s understandable,” he quipped sarcastically. “I’ve never been this angry with you before.”

  “I saw no need in delaying our separation,” she explained mutedly.

  “That was obvious,” he retorted cuttingly. Her simple statement only heightened his irritation. “You might as well have slapped my face or spit in my eye, the way you sashayed off without a word to me.”

  “There was no insult intended, Beau,” Cerynise whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry if you took offense.”

  He was unable to resist her worried appeal. Taking a step closer, he murmured distantly, “I even begged a loan of a mount in my haste to find you.”

  “But you must have known where I’d go,” she said, somewhat heartened by the fact that the muscles in his cheeks were no longer tensing beneath his bronzed skin.

  “Aye! I did, and that’s why I’m here.” Beau moved even nearer until Cerynise could see nothing beyond his broad shoulders, but then, with her eyes riveted on his face, she wouldn’t have seen anything else anyway. He advanced with measured care, and instinctively she stepped back, only to bump into the door. His long body was there to meet hers when she stumbled forward again, and as if by magic, his arm was suddenly around her, steadying her and pulling her near. She breathed in raggedly, inhaling all the scents that bestirred her womanly being and awakened her senses to his manly virility. Her head whirled, leaving her a little dizzy and faint. She lifted a hand to brace herself, only to encounter the hard, unyielding wall of his chest, that same muscular expanse she loved to caress. She seemed naturally inclined to do so, for her hand moved unbidden in a slow, circular motion around a male breast.

  Trembling, she raised her eyes to his and saw in an instant that his anger was gone, transformed into a longing so intense, it left her amazed that after all their quarrels and strife, this proud, indomitable man desired her just as fiercely as he always had. Annulment, be damned! she could almost hear him saying. His dark head lowered, his opening mouth came near, and she waited with emotions winging out of control.

  The clatter of a passing wagon intruded, reminding her of the fact that they were standing beside a public lane in the middle of Charleston. Anyone could see them if they chose to look through the arbor, and yet, everything within her cried out with yearning for this man in spite of all the conflicts that might follow. Her soft lips parted in a sigh of surrender.…

  “Beau—”

  In an instant her whisper turned to a startled gasp as the front door opened suddenly, jolting her forward against Beau. They both stumbled away from the wide step and stared in surprise at a gray-haired man with wire-rimmed spectacles who gazed back at them with the air of a startled owl.

  “Oh, I do beg your pardon,” he apologized. “I thought I heard something and came out to see—” He broke off, a tentative smile lighting his solemn visage. “Cerynise…is that you? Oh, but it can’t be. She’s.—”

  “It is!” Cerynise reassured him eagerly. This was hardly the reunion she had envisioned. Fully aware of her flustered state, she could perceive his curiosity being aroused by her bright blush. It was too much to hope that he’d lay the cause to her arrival. “I’ve come home to stay, Uncle Sterling.”

  The man seemed suddenly bemused. “But what about Mrs. Winthrop.…”

  Cerynise’s voice thickened with emotion. “She passed away some three months ago.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Uncle Sterling said, losing some of his elation. “She was a fine woman.” Looking at his niece again, he smiled, this time gently. “But you can’t believe how relieved I am to have you back. I’ve missed you so. You’re the only family I have now.”

  With those simple words, Cerynise felt the wall she had erected in fear crumbling away. He opened his arms to her, and with a catch in her breath, she flew into them. Sterling gathered her close, embracing her affectionately and blinking away a flood of tears. “Dear child, you’ve been in my thoughts constantly. Your letters were a delight, to be sure, but I cannot tell you how your arrival has lifted my spirits. I had begun to despair that I’d never see you again.”

  “Now I’m back,” she murmured, wondering how she could have ever thought him cold and distant. Perhaps she hadn’t really even known him. Yet she had every hope that would soon change.

  Beau had stepped back a respectful distance to allow them this moment together, and after a time, Sterling Kendall faced him with a smile. “I gather I have you to thank for my niece’s safe return, Captain Birmingham.”

  “There are some things you should know, sir,” Beau replied, startling Cerynise with his declaration. “And I think we should talk about them at length.”

  Uncle Sterling glanced curiously from one to the other and, after noting the sudden dismay in his niece’s face, decided it was a matter of some urgency. “Of course, Captain. Let’s go into the parlor, where we can have some tea while we talk.”

  They followed him through the lemon-scented hall to a room overlooking the garden, which now in winter was mostly dormant except for the camellias that were still blooming. In the summer months all manner of flowers and neatly clipped shrubs created a view that was immensely pleasing to the senses. Cerynise had always loved roaming through the mulched lanes, looking at the colorful array of blossoms and the charming gazebo where climbing roses and ivy trailed upward through the white lattice walls. It had once been her hope to create that same scene on canvas, but as yet she hadn’t done so.

  “Find yourselves a seat and get comfortable while I go and see where the housemaid is,” Uncle Sterling urged them. “Cora is getting rather hard of hearing, and lately she hasn’t been seeing too well either, but she declares that she’s fit e
nough to carry on just as well as she always has.”

  Cerynise remembered Cora from her childhood and roughly guessed the woman was at least sixty-eight. From the neatness of the house, she could ascertain that in spite of her limitations Cora was still fully capable of cleaning and cooking for her uncle. The woman had done so for the last thirty years.

  Cerynise crossed the room and settled on a settee facing a wide expanse of square-paned windows that showed off the garden. Less than a moment later Beau followed, ignoring more comfortable chairs to take a place beside her. Everywhere their eyes flitted, there were books nestled in little crannies, on shelves, and larger volumes carefully arranged on tabletops. Beau picked up one and began leafing through it until his interest heightened. Besides the historical text, there were also drawings representing ancient Greek and Roman statues, many of which were rather graphic in detail. A quick glance upward confirmed the fact that Cerynise’s interest had also been stimulated, and he turned the pages much more slowly for her benefit.

  “Nice drawings,” he commented with a grin, finally turning his gaze upon her.

  Cerynise had been leaning toward him ever so slightly, but at his words, she sat upright, her face flaming. She couldn’t very well lie and deny that she had been gawking at the male statues on the page. The best she could do was respond with a casual shrug. “I suppose.”

  “Not as nice as the real thing though.”

  “Put the book up,” she cautioned in a whisper. “My uncle’s coming.”

  “Is that what you did when you were a little girl?” Beau queried, laying the book back upon the table in front of them.

  “What do you mean?” she asked in wide-eyed bemusement.

  “Devour all the pictures of naked men and women and then scurry to hide that fact when your elders approached,” he explained with a soft chuckle.

  Cerynise wished she could cool her cheeks with a wet cloth, but then, she seriously doubted even that would help, for her blush warmed her whole body. “I don’t remember ever seeing that kind of book here before. Perhaps my uncle was more careful about leaving it out for children to find.”

  “A historian would never imagine that kind of book lewd,” Beau argued, “so I doubt the good professor would hide it.”

  “Well, I never saw it before in my life!” she hissed hotly.

  “All right!” He could not quell an amused grin, and then, because he loved to tease her, he leaned near to whisper, “Have you ever painted a man in the nude?”

  “Certainly not!”

  “Didn’t know what they looked like before me, eh?”

  “Be quiet! My uncle will hear you.”

  His broad shoulders lifted casually. “I don’t mind.”

  “Well, I do!” she protested in a barely audible tone. “We’re supposed to be considering an annulment. Or have you forgotten?”

  “You won’t let me,” he prodded.

  Startled by his answer, Cerynise looked up to search his eyes, but she had no time to question him, for her uncle opened the door and held it wide as Cora pushed the tea cart in.

  Tea and crumpets were served, and Cerynise nervously partook of both. She had no idea what Beau meant to tell her uncle; she only knew that whatever it was, it would come as a shock to the elder.

  After closing the door behind the housemaid, her uncle faced Beau over the tea cart. “What do you wish to tell me, Captain?”

  “Simply that Cerynise and I are married…”

  Cerynise cringed, awaiting her uncle’s reaction. He would no doubt take offense because he hadn’t been informed prior to the event.

  Sterling sat back in his chair in stunned disbelief. “How did this come about?”

  In an anxious rush to have it all behind her, Cerynise gave Beau no opportunity to say what was on his mind. “It was all rather sudden, Uncle Sterling, and most needed at the time. You see, Mrs. Winthrop’s nephew tried to claim me as his legal ward upon her death, and when Alistair threatened to have the authorities halt the Audacious’s departure, Beau…I mean, Captain Birmingham offered marriage as a way to get both me and his ship out of England. We have plans to get our marriage annulled as soon as possible, but we thought you should know immediately.…”

  The clatter of a china cup being set upon a saucer with unusual force drew Cerynise’s startled attention to her husband, who at the moment seemed genuinely perturbed with her.

  “Did I not explain our situation precisely?” she queried uneasily.

  “Very concisely, madam.”

  Sterling looked from one to the other and wondered what he was presently seeing in the younger man’s face. It was not pleasure, by any means. He sought to soothe whatever irritation the captain might be feeling. “’Twould appear that you both found a resourceful solution to a difficult predicament.”

  “Perhaps,” Beau muttered. “At least your niece seems to view it that way.” Then rather abruptly he put his cup and saucer back on the tea cart and came to his feet. “I must get back to my ship now. I left Mr. Oaks in charge without giving him adequate instructions how I wanted to handle certain matters. I’m sure he’ll be at a loss until I get back.”

  “Certainly, Captain,” Uncle Sterling said, opening the door. “I’ll show you out.”

  As the elder entered the hall, Beau paused briefly to glance back at Cerynise, who could find nothing more to say than “I suppose you’ll be sending the annulment papers around for me to sign.”

  His smile was stiff and terse, his mood dark. “If you insist, madam.”

  Then, whirling on a heel, he followed her uncle through the hallway.

  The hard lump in Cerynise’s throat threatened to dissolve into a burst of tears as she listened to the striding footfalls of her husband, who apparently was in no mood to walk softly. The men exchanged a few murmured words at the door, and then the portal was swept open. She sat frozen until it closed again with a firmness that had a definite ring of finality.

  Twelve

  MORE THAN A month after her return, Cerynise came down to breakfast much later than usual, wearing a painting smock and looking for all the world as if she had finally found the heart to return to her work. Uncle Sterling had already settled in the dining room, where bay windows overlooked the garden. He had been addressing his morning meal with enthusiasm, but at her entrance, he rose in gentlemanly manner.

  “I was wondering where you were, my dear,” he greeted jovially. “Please forgive me for starting without you. I have an early appointment this morning that I mustn’t be late for.”

  Cerynise spared a quick glance at the shirred eggs, hominy cakes, sausage, and applesauce available on the sideboard and swallowed with difficulty. The housemaid waddled in with a warmed plate which she set before the girl, but Cerynise shook her head. “Thank you, Cora, but I think I’ll just have tea this morning.”

  The older woman poured a cup and served it with an ample piece of her mind. “Miss Cerynise, you ought to eat more than you do. You don’t eat enough to keep a cricket alive.”

  Cerynise started to lift the cup, but her stomach chose that moment to do a slow, dizzying flip-flop, making her feel just as she had aboard the Audacious in the earlier days of the voyage. She set the cup down hastily and quickly averted her gaze.

  “Is something wrong?” Uncle Sterling asked, glancing up to find her eyes closed and her face pale.

  “No.” Cerynise looked up to find him in the process of spreading thick orange marmalade on a warm corn muffin. Cautiously dragging her gaze from him, she watched her tea do an odd little back-and-forth motion in her cup. With trembling hands she reached out to steady the cup, but immediately discovered that it wasn’t moving. It was only her stomach turning. Her hands began to shake noticeably, and she yanked them back quickly, clenching them together in her lap.

  “Something is wrong,” Uncle Sterling stated with conviction, dropping his muffin. He pushed his chair back and came around to her side of the table. “You’re as pale as a ship’s canvas th
is morning, my dear. What plagues you? Are you feverish?” He pressed his knuckles to her brow to judge for himself.

  “No, I’m fine,” Cerynise muttered in a weak, unconvincing tone. She felt perfectly well…aside from her inability to keep food on her stomach…and the strange lassitude that had continued on unswervingly since her first bout on the Audacious. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

  “Well, no wonder,” Uncle Sterling replied, resuming his seat. “The way you’ve been moping around here lately, you’ve undoubtedly become bored after the excitement of the voyage. A young girl like you should be out meeting new friends and going to balls and such. Perhaps a stroll would improve your frame of mind. ’Tis a lovely day, and my appointment shouldn’t occupy me above an hour. When I return, I shall expect to have the pleasure of your company for a walk.”

  “If you insist,” Cerynise acquiesced listlessly, finding no enthusiasm for such a task. In spite of her careful explanations to Beau about her need to set up a studio and get back to her painting, she had progressed very little toward that end. Even when Uncle Sterling had suggested that they should get together with old family friends, she had politely put him off, not wishing to go anywhere or see anyone.

  “Perhaps we could stroll along Broad Street and do a little shopping,” he suggested. Women always enjoyed such things, and he was in a rare mood to be out and about with his niece on his arm. “I understand there are some excellent modistes there.”