“Thank you, Captain Bowers,” Alana replied. She had known Tim Bowers all her life. Everyone along the Ashley did. He was as much a fixture of the river as the plantations to which he carried supplies. He was called Captain out of respect and friendship, although it was not a title for a riverboat man.
As the white-haired man stepped back, he paused again. “Almost forgot,” he said, reaching into the leather satchel that hung from his shoulder. “I have a letter here for you.”
Alana took the envelope from him and watched Tim Bowers return to the deck of his boat and start issuing orders to the hands. For the next hour or so, she forgot about the letter as she supervised the unloading of her supplies.
When the riverboat pulled away from the dock, Alana looked at the envelope. It was of a fancy printed linen, and in dark, almost glittering letters, it proclaimed that it came from one Charles Ledoque, of Bay Street, Charleston.
Her fingers absently went to the seal but stopped when she realized it was addressed to Jason, not to her. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that from now on, not every letter that arrived at Riverbend would be for her.
8
“To the last dinner alone we three shall share,” Jason toasted. As he held the goblet of wine aloft, he looked at Rafe and then at Alana.
Willing her tense nerves not to betray the delicate balance she strove to maintain, she looked questioningly at Jason.
“Tomorrow night we will be overrun by our guests. The day after, we will be married and Rafe will be gone. So in truth,” Jason explained, “tonight is the last quiet meal we will enjoy together.”
“That sounds so final,” Alana said in a low voice. She quickly turned her eyes to Rafe. In that instant, her heart threatened to stop, but she willed her iron control to hold firm. When she spoke, her voice was level and showed nothing of her emotions.
“Will you not wait for one of Jason’s ships to take you to California?” she asked Rafe, referring to an offer Jason had made earlier in the day.
Rafe shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but no one knows when the ships will arrive. I must be on my way; I cannot wait any longer.”
As he spoke, his eyes told her the true meaning that his words could not contain, and Alana had no choice but to accept.
Sighing, she addressed her next words to Jason. “We have done all we could to keep him with us, Jason. All we can ask is that he returns again one day.”
Jason lifted his glass again in a silent toast to accent her words. After he sipped the wine, he placed the glass neatly on the table, wincing as he did.
“Are you all right?” Alana asked immediately.
“For now,” Jason stated. “The medication does not seem to last as long as it used to. The pain comes more frequently.”
“Perhaps when Dr. Lawrence arrives tomorrow, he will be able to help with the pain?” Alana offered.
Jason’s laugh was bitter and filled with irony. “Only if he has a stronger medicine than laudanum. But even if he does, I will not use it, except at night, until after we are wed.”
“But the pain–Alana protested.
“Will be with me all my life. No, Alana, I shall not let all the river country as well as all Charleston know that I spend my days in a senseless stupor. Until everyone is gone, I will suffer the increased pain.”
“Is that the only reason?” Alana suddenly challenged. “To show our neighbors that you still have your fine aristocratic wit about you?”
He ignored her question, as he now always did when Alana questioned him about issues he did not want to discuss. Jason turned his attention to Rafe. “How do you plan to travel to California?”
Rafe bit back his anger at Jason’s affront to Alana and, taking a deep breath, he answered, “I’m sure I’ll find a ship bound for New Orleans that will hire me on. From there I’ll cut cross country, unless I’m fortunate enough to find a ship going to California–but who knows what shipping lanes are being plied since the war’s end?”
It was then that Alana belatedly realized Rafe could not possibly have much, if any, money after being released from prison. She also knew that he would not accept any money they offered.
Seeing her pained look, he spoke softly to her. “It’s not so terrible a hardship as others I’ve faced,” Rafe responded, his words proper, his eyes not quite so.
Alana shivered under the impact of his gaze but forced herself to look away. In that moment, Lorelei entered with their meal, and all conversation was thankfully ended.
Halfway through the meal, Jason spoke again. “Rafe, before the war, had you ever heard of a Charles Ledoque?”
Rafe thought about it for a moment, thinking of the many shipping contacts he had known. “Who is he?”
“I received a letter from him today. He says he has moved his shipping fleet to Charleston to help rebuild it as a seaport. He also says that he was recently made aware of my own vessels and is offering his services for the docking of my ships and the warehousing of their cargo. It seems he’s taken over the warehouse and docking locations of the people I did business with before the war.”
“He doesn’t waste much time, does he?” Rafe asked. “Seeing that you’ve been back barely two weeks.”
Jason shrugged. “I’m sure he learned that I’ve always run the business through agents and is applying for that job. Besides, for Landow Shipping, one agent can be no worse than another.”
“But we agreed to run it ourselves,” Alana cut in. “We can’t let others control our assets.”
“You agreed,” he stated roughly. “That, my dear, is the Belfores’ philosophy of business, not that of the Landow's. And we both know what Thomas Belfores did to you and to Riverbend!”
“Jason,” Alana pleaded, not wanting to have an argument in front of Rafe, “no decision has to be made yet. Besides, you don’t know the man. Please wait until we meet him.”
Jason seemed about to argue but held himself back. Instead, he simply nodded his head and turned his attention to the food.
When they finished eating, Alana noticed that Jason’s face was taut with pain, and again she felt the burden of that pain.
“Will you have coffee, Jason?” she asked, her voice soft and gentle.
Jason shook his head. “My bed is what I need. Good night, Alana, Rafe,” he said. Before he could call out to Gabriel, the tall black man appeared and took him from the room, leaving Alana and Rafe alone for the first time that day.
“You’ve been gone all day,” Alana whispered after the doors of the dining room clicked shut.
“This is beautiful country. I spent the day walking along the river bank.”
“I was afraid of sitting down for dinner tonight,” she admitted in a low voice. “I didn’t know if I could face Jason with you sitting near me.” Alana’s hand was on the table and, as she spoke, she reached toward him. Before she could touch his fingers, Rafe spoke.
“No.”
Alana’s hand trembled, but she did not let her fingers touch his. Instead, she drew her hand back and closed her eyes against the hurt his single word produced.
When she spoke, her eyes remained closed and her words were barely audible. “I am not ashamed of what happened between us. I will never be!” Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I–I just wanted you to know that.”
Rafe did not speak. He didn’t have to. Alana saw the answer written on the planes of his face and in the deeply etched grooves radiating from his eyes.
“I love you, Rafe,” she said. Then she stood and started from the room. Before she reached the doors, Rafe was out of his seat and at her side. His hand captured her arm, and he spun her to face him.
He stared at her, his eyes probing as if he were trying to see into her very soul. His hand on her arm was tight; the heat radiating from it pulsed through her body.
“Let me go, Rafe.”
“I can’t,” he said in a husky voice.
“We have no choice.”
“No choice?
Are you a slave then, with a master holding a whip over you? No, Alana,” he said, swift, “There is always a choice. Do not make yourself a slave to Jason.”
As the warmth of his breath washed across her cheeks, she fought against his closeness and battled the overpowering desire that flared within her at his touch.
Once again, she tried to escape from his grasp, but he would not let her go. “Can we really give up what we’ve found?” he asked. Then he pulled her to him and covered her lips with his.
Against her will, passions burst within her as she surrendered to the warmth of his mouth. Her arms stole about him, her breasts pressed against his chest, and as her mouth opened and welcomed him, she realized what was happening.
“No!” she gasped, pulling back from him. She wrenched her arm free and backstepped. “Please, Rafe, no more.”
“You can’t throw away your life because you pity him!” Rafe stated harshly, knowing it was his last chance to claim Alana as his own.
“It’s not pity. Rafe, you must understand. I have a duty to fulfill,” she said in as level a voice as she could.
Rafe stared at her, his blood pounding at his temples. “Come to me tonight, Alana,” he whispered.
Her heart soared at his words, but her mind trembled with her heart’s traitorous joy. Not trusting herself to answer, she shook her head mutely, then walked out of the dining room and up the stairs to her bedroom.
Rafe watched her until she reached the top landing, and although his blood still ran hot, he held himself back from following her. Instead, he went into the salon, where Lorelei had already set out the coffee service and a decanter of brandy.
Rafe splashed the amber fluid into a snifter and downed it in one gulp. While the fiery liquid worked its way into his stomach, he refilled the glass and drained that as well.
Two hours and five more brandies later, Rafe realized he was not going to get drunk tonight and that no amount of brandy would grant him escape from his thoughts. Throughout the long day, he had tried to banish Alana from his mind, but all he could think of was the perfection of her moonlit form, the exquisite touch of her body on his own, and the taste and essence of her skin.
With every step he’d taken today, every passion-filled moment of their time together had replayed within his mind. When he’d returned to change for dinner, he’d wondered if he would be able to sit near her without taking her in his arms. But he had been able to control himself. Sighing deeply, Rafe left the salon.
When he reached his room, he realized that although the brandy had not deadened his ache, it had helped to make him tired. The light gauze curtains stirred restlessly in the breeze as he undressed and lay down on the large, four-poster bed. He stared up at the canopy above him and let his mind race free with thoughts of the beautiful woman who could never be his.
~~~~~
After returning to her room, Alana sat silently on the side of her bed, doing her best to calm her troubled thoughts. After a few moments, she realized that she could not sit still, and she pulled the cord that went to the servants’ room. Three minutes later Kitty opened her door. “Ma’am?” she asked.
“Would you see if there’s any hot water left in the kitchen? If there is, I would like a bath.”
“Yes’m, Miss Alana, I knows dere be plenty of water,” Kitty said as she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Alone again, Alana refused to yield to the sorrow that reached out to her. Deliberately she turned her thoughts to the letter Jason had received from Ledoque. “I will not let his business be run by another!” she promised aloud. “Never!”
Too often, Alana had seen her neighbors go marching into bankruptcy, guided along the path by men who manipulated their fortunes without any care for the people themselves. She would not let this happen to Landow Shipping.
Kitty returned, bringing the tub with her. When it was in the center of the room, she left again to bring the water. Alana undressed and readied herself for the bath while Kitty poured the steaming water into the tub. After the fourth bucket of boiling water, the servant added two buckets of cold water, knowing the exact temperature that Alana preferred.
“Thank you, Kitty,” she said.
“Yes’m. If’n you needs anything else, I be downstairs.”
With one foot in the tub, Alana paused to look at Kitty. “Jeremy’s growing into a fine young man,” she said.
“Yes’m,” Kitty replied, a bright smile on her face.
“Are there any other servants in the house tonight?”
“Aside fo’ myself, dere jes be Gabriel. He be listenin’ fo’ Master Jason.”
A picture of her and Rafe blending within the gazebo rose before her. “I won’t need you anymore tonight, Kitty. Spend the night with Ben and Jeremy.”
“But de tub?” Kitty protested.
“In the morning. Go, Kitty; be with your husband tonight.”
“Tank you, Miss Alana, tank you!” With a happy smile, Kitty left.
Once in the tub, Alana rested her head against the metal rim and closed her eyes. For the first time since leaving Rafe that morning, she allowed the full memory of their loving to surface and felt within her body an answering response from where he had filled her with himself.
She soaked in the tub for an hour until the water turned tepid. After drying herself and putting on a simple nightdress, she went to stand at her window. As it had last night, a crescent moon rode the heavens, and with its light she was able to see the roof of the gazebo.
She remembered the taste of Rafe’s lips on hers in the dining room, and his words roared within her mind, intensified by the very silence of the large house.
In the morning, she realized, the first of the guests would be arriving. There would never again be a chance for her and Rafe to be alone. With that knowledge, a devastating revelation struck her. She knew that, for as long as she could, she would go to him as he had asked.
Turning from the window, Alana walked to her dressing table, where a candle burned. She lifted the brass candleholder and went to the door. Once there, she found herself unable to continue.
Alana closed her eyes again and finally allowed her heart to break free. Hesitantly, she opened the door and stepped into the dark hallway.
She paused to listen for sounds but heard none. Taking a deep breath, Alana crossed the hallway and went to Rafe’s door. Her heart was beating much too fast, and her stomach was knotting tighter and tighter with each step.
By the time she was at his door, her nerves were taut. The desire to feel his hands on her, his lips on her, and hear his gentle voice in her ear was the force that made her push his door open without knocking.
After closing the door behind her, she turned and froze. He was lying in the center of the bed, his naked body aglow in the candle’s faint light. She took it all in, every inch of his sleeping might, until she could no longer hold herself back.
“Rafe,” she called in a soft, tremulous voice. When he did not respond, she walked to the bed. Placing the candle on the dressing table, she bent over him.
She could smell the brandy that he’d drunk earlier, but overpowering that scent was the fragrance that was Rafe’s own essence. As it struck her, a flashing memory of last night’s lovemaking riveted her to the spot, and as it did, her love for him erupted within her.
Lowering her mouth to his, she kissed him softly, her lips whispering across his in a brief touch. When she raised her head, she saw his eyes were open.
Rafe gazed at the vision of his love that had awakened him, and his mind spun with the knowledge that she had come to him as he’d asked.
He reached up to her, his fingers stroking her cheeks as he watched the play of candlelight on her face. Emotions rolled across him like the swells of a stormy sea. In the moistness within her blue eyes and in the tight corners of her mouth was the story of the battle she was fighting with herself.
But the scent of her reached him, and with the sweet perfume that was her femini
nity, Rafe gave himself up to her even as she had done to him last night.
He started to speak, but she would not let him. He sensed that it was because she feared that any word spoken might destroy her willingness to be with him tonight.
So instead of speaking, Rafe drew her to him and accepted the subtle warmth and softness of her mouth on his. The kiss lasted for a long time, and when it ended, their eyes again locked, and the desire and passion that was within them was plain to see.
As Alana slipped from the bed and started toward the candle, Rafe called out, “Leave it. Let me see all your beauty.”
Turning, Alana looked at the man she loved and started toward the bed. Standing beside it she undid the lace of the nightdress and let it slide from her shoulders.
The whisper of fabric upon skin was loud in the room, and when the dress was gone, she heard Rafe’s sharp intake of breath.
Still silent, Rafe ravished Alana with his eyes as he gazed unashamed at the perfection of her body–a perfection already imprinted within his mind.
Then Alana went to the bed, and as Rafe started to sit up, she placed her hands on the tight skin of his shoulders and pushed him back.
Rafe started to protest, but when he saw the bold gleam in her eyes, he let himself fall back onto the mattress. His skin was alive, and when her fingers released his shoulders, he felt low sparks tingle from where they had been.
He watched as she drew herself closer to him, her torso above him, her eyes locked with his. She bent and covered his lips with hers, and the already-hardened tips of her breasts pushed into his chest.
Her tongue entered his mouth to weave with his, the heated tip maddening as it danced within the warm cavern. Then his arms rose to capture her, but even as they did, she pulled her mouth from his and slipped away.
Then her lips were pressing warmly on his neck, her tongue flicking across it in a random, seeking way that forced him to accept the pleasure she was bestowing upon him.
His hands rested lightly on her back, caressing without holding, exploring without stopping her.
Alana’s lips were molten against his skin, tracing a blistering path downward from his neck to his chest. Her fingers toyed with his nipples, tracing circles with her nails even as her lips replaced them and her teeth nipped at the hard, small tips. Soon Rafe was lost within the passion that Alana was unleashing.
Alana Page 9
