While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  "I believe a little of both. He has some cousins or distant relatives that he will be staying with, and on advice given to him by his father, he intends to look into the possibility of settling in that area."

  "I see," Beth answered, not particularly interested in Sebastian Savage. Yet, having dismissed him as one of those charming, dilettante younger sons found so often in wealthy southern families, meeting him a few moments later, she was charmed by him.

  Who wouldn't be? Sebastian Savage was an outrageously handsome young scamp—such a delightful rake that few women could resist him. He stood over six feet tall and possessed a natural athlete's body. Having the greenest, thickest-lashed eyes imaginable, black curly hair and the most engaging manners to be found on either side of the Mississippi River did little to lessen his impact upon the ladies. Most men found him an enjoyable companion too—always ready for any lark, a marvelous shot with the pistols, generous with his money, and a generally likable fellow. His detractors—and there were a few, complained of his quick, hot temper and his cheerful, eager willingness to settle the most trivial disagreement with a dawn duel fought "under the oaks" in New Orleans.

  But Beth, knowing none of these things, was impressed favorably when she met him. And Sebastian... Well, Sebastian took one look at the exquisitely fair creature with the incredible violet eyes standing before him and fell precipitously and predictably in love—something his father, Jason, claimed dryly Sebastian did with awkward regularity.

  Beth, much to Sebastian's chagrin, was oblivious of his obvious enslavement, seeing him only as entertaining companion. He was two years older than she, but as the days passed, she tended to think of him as a younger brother or an old friend.

  The lazy days as the ship steamed across the Gulf of Mexico toward Galveston gave them hours and hours, uncomplicated by the confines of normal society, to spend with each other and to learn more about the other, and also time for the easy relationship that soon existed between them to prosper. Nathan's habit of rising late and spending just about every waking hour below decks savoring tall, cool rum drinks as he played endless games of chance, contributed to Beth and Sebastian being left often in each other's company.

  It was an innocent relationship on Beth's part. Sebastian was a charming rogue who made her smile and laugh and who instilled in her a gaiety she had never before experienced. He reminded her of a half-grown, forward puppy, certain of his welcome, playful and adorable, but not to be taken seriously. That more than one young lady on board the packet thought differently did not escape Beth, but she realized that while Sebastian might cause other hearts to beat faster hers never would. She enjoyed his company and she couldn't help but be flattered that a gentleman of his attributes found her company exhilarating. He ignored several languishing young ladies and gravitated with gratifying promptness in her direction whenever she appeared.

  It was Sebastian who escorted Mrs. Ridgeway during her promenades along the deck; it was Sebastian who sat with her during the evenings in the main lounge and played harmless card games fit only for older ladies and young children; and it was Sebastian who amused her at the breakfast and luncheon table—while Nathan slept off a night spent gaming and drinking. It was no wonder Beth and Sebastian became such close friends.

  The short journey to Galveston was nearing its end. The evening before they were to arrive in the port city, left alone as usual, Beth and Sebastian took a stroll around the deck, stopping now and then to stare out at the gently rolling waves and to talk of this and that.

  Beth was looking especially lovely, her violet eyes bright with pleasure as they spoke of their arrival the next day in Galveston. The silvery-ash hair had been pulled up into a cluster of soft curls on top of her head with a ruby velvet ribbon threaded throughout the thick hair and, staring at the enchanting profile thus afforded him, Sebastian wondered again, as he had so frequently, how Nathan could prefer the pleasures of the gaming tables to the enjoyment of his beautiful young wife.

  A frown creasing his wide forehead, Sebastian couldn't help asking, "Beth, does Nathan lose a great deal of money?" Seeing the reserve that flashed across her face, he cursed himself for asking such a personal question. "I apologize," he said. "I did not mean to pry."

  Beth smiled faintly, not blaming him for asking the question—Nathan's preoccupation with the gaming tables had been flagrant and it was natural that someone as kind as Sebastian would be concerned. But she wasn't about to discuss her husband with this young man, and so she said, "Don't apologize. Let's pretend that you never asked that question, shall we? The night is too lovely to be spoiled by quarreling."

  "I certainly cannot take exception to that idea," Sebastian agreed. But the thought lingered that the Ridgeways must have an odd marriage—especially when he recalled the beautiful young man who seemed always to be at Nathan's side since the two had met three days before. He was a silly young fop by the name of Reginald Percy. Sebastian discerned an air of intimacy between the two. It was a damned strange situation. God knew, he wouldn't allow his wife to be so friendly with an out-and-out rake like himself and he wouldn't leave her alone for hours on end while he clung happily to the arm of a willow-slim young man and gambled the night away. If Beth were his wife, he wouldn't be able to let her out of his sight... or his bed, he decided with a wicked, fleeting grin. Again his gaze traveled over Beth's slender body and he sighed.

  She was so lovely and so damned unaware of him as a man, he thought, half amused, half angry.

  Oblivious of Sebastian's frustration, Beth murmured, "I shall be sorry to say good-bye to you tomorrow. I have enjoyed your company on the packet—it will seem strange not to see you every day."

  "Ah, but you will! As we both are going to San Antonio, I have decided that instead of remaining in Galveston, I shall travel directly to San Antonio with your party. I've already mentioned it to your husband, and he had no objections. It will be a safer journey for all of us if I and my four servants join up with your party." And you, my little darling, Sebastian thought in exasperation as a smiling Beth turned to look up at him, have no idea that you are the only reason I've changed my plans.

  The violet eyes twinkling gaily up at him, she cried delightedly, "Oh, truly! You are not teasing me?"

  Sebastian put on an affronted expression, but the green eyes glinted with mockery and the full, mobile mouth slanted teasingly. "Now, Beth, when have I ever teased you?"

  Beth laughed at him. "All the time, my friend, all the time. You have done nothing but tease me since we met that first morning. And don't you try to deny it either." Impetuously she reached over and touched his strong, lean hand with her slim fingers. "Sebastian, I have enjoyed it so much. I cannot begin to tell you how much you have lightened my days. You are a good friend to me—one I hope I shall have for a long time."

  "Don't worry, Beth, I have no intention of disappearing from your life too soon."

  They conversed a few minutes more and then Sebastian suggested that it was time for Beth to retire for the night. Shortly thereafter they were standing before her cabin door saying good night. It was then that Sebastian found her simply too alluring, too temptingly desirable to resist.

  Looking at the lovely, innocent features lifted to his, he was powerless to defy the urge to drop a brief, warm kiss on her unprepared lips. Startled, Beth instinctively stepped away, and Sebastian, realizing what he had done, rushed into hasty speech. "Beth, forgive me! I do not know what came over me. I do apologize." Giving her a lopsided grin, he finished outrageously, "It is just that I feel that you are like one of my sisters, even on this short acquaintance—and I always kiss my sisters good night."

  Beth was torn between the desire to box his ears and an unseemly urge to giggle. The giggle won out. "Sebastian, you are a scamp!" she scolded with a smile. "I don't think my husband would approve of such... such... warm sentiments being bestowed upon his wife by a young man so recently met."

  His tall, broad-shouldered body blocking out the moonlight be
hind them, he mocked, "But Beth, I feel as if we have known each other forever. Surely we were soulmates in another life."

  Beth gave him a playful rap on his knuckles. "Enough of this nonsense—even if it is very enjoyable, it must stop. Behave yourself or I shall have to take stern measures against you, young man," she threatened, her eyes teasing him.

  Unrepentantly Sebastian asked, "Am I forgiven, Beth?"

  Unable to resist the laughter in his face, she nodded. "Yes, you are, but you shouldn't be. Now I must go. It is late and I don't want anyone to think that I am entertaining impudent young men in my cabin at night."

  A grin on his wide mouth, for several seconds Sebastian stood staring at the door that closed smartly in his face when Beth had swept into her cabin. Then, whistling to himself, he walked away, feeling pleased.

  Despite the ease with which she had dismissed the incident to Sebastian, it troubled Beth. She recognized that there could never be more than friendship between them, and she was too tenderhearted to encourage his hopes of a more serious relationship. No, Sebastian was not for her—he might be handsome, he might be charming, but her heart was untouched except in a sisterly way. Firmly Beth reminded herself that his kiss tonight had been just as he intimated—a brotherly salutation. She knew what it was like to be kissed with passion, and for just a moment Rafael Santana's dark face swam in her mind. With a breathless start she realized that part of Sebastian's charm was that in a strange way he made her remember another darker, wildly passionate personality, and the unpleasant idea occurred to her that part of Sebastian's appeal was because he did remind her of Rafael. Ruthlessly she banished that thought, forcing herself to think only of tonight. She worried that Sebastian's friendship with her was something more, and she bit her lip in vexation. His friendship meant much to her. He made her feel young and merry—not staid and sedate and sensible, all those things she had been for so long. She hadn't thought once of Briarwood or of the oddity of her marriage, nor longed for her future to have been different since meeting him. Not willingly would she slip back into possessing all those virtues she had come to dislike. She would be gay, and young, and happy... and... carefree! She would! And Sebastian would help her, she thought defiantly. She was not going to turn into a bitter, unfulfilled woman.

  Sebastian would have been delighted to help Beth become a fulfilled woman, and as he savored his second brandy in a very few minutes, he convinced himself that she had only been shy and that his persistence was beginning to be rewarded.

  Sebastian was not the only man savoring the progression of a seduction that night. Nathan had discovered that the young Mr. Percy was of the same persuasion as himself. Without one thought of his wife and with none of the impotence that marked his attempts to consummate his marriage, Nathan successfully showed Mr. Percy what a skillful lover he was... with men. Recklessly, they spent the night together in Mr. Percy's cabin, which unfortunately happened to be next door to Sebastian's.

  Worse, Sebastian had inadvertently ended up with Mr. Percy's snuffbox. Rising early that morning, he tapped on the Mr. Percy's door to leave off the snuffbox. Hearing no answer, he tried the knob and, finding it unlocked, stuck his head around the door. The sight of Nathan and Mr. Percy in bed together was a shock of the first magnitude even to one as sophisticated as Sebastian. That the two sleeping men had been intimate was apparent from the way Mr. Percy nestled into Nathan's white shoulder and the way Nathan's arm was clasped around the younger man. Sebastian beat a hasty retreat, understanding exactly why Nathan seemed to have no concern about leaving his wife in the company of another man.

  Sebastian misjudged Nathan. Nathan was capable of turning a blind eye to a number of things another man would not have ignored. He was essentially a selfish man, and while he might think it very nice for Beth to have the companionship of a handsome young man like Sebastian, he was always on the alert for any threat to his own happiness. On that particular morning, after he had said a fond good-bye to Mr. Percy, for the packet would be docking at Galveston in a matter of hours, Nathan decided, after listening to Beth's conversation that was mainly about Sebastian, that it hadn't been so wise to have introduced that young man to his wife. Sebastian was a little too attractive, and Nathan didn't want Beth to get any silly ideas. Perhaps she would decide their rather odd marriage wasn't as satisfactory as it could be and that another man might make her happier.

  Seeing the easy friendship that existed between Beth and Sebastian, Nathan began to look with real disfavor upon the notion that Sebastian and his party would travel with them to San Antonio. There was nothing he could do about it now, he thought with regret, wishing that he had never consented to this wild whim of Beth's.

  Most of the day was taken up with the landing at Galveston and finding rooms they would need for the few days they would be in Galveston before starting the overland journey to San Antonio. It was fortunate that they were not remaining long in Galveston, because Nathan, after taking one incredulous glance at what was the most important port city of the Republic of Texas, was not impressed. His muttered complaints robbed Beth of much of her pleasure in the city. Nathan's complaints weren't the only thing that distressed her as they wandered about the city—she had seen a tall, black-haired man disappear between two buildings as they approached, and for one terrifying moment she had been certain it was Rafael Santana.

  It wasn't the sight of the dark-haired stranger that upset her so much as her own reaction to it. Her heart had leaped within her breast and her throat had gone dry at the violent thrill of anticipation and hope that had exploded through her slender body. She quickly gained control of herself, frantically tamping down those emotions. What is the matter with me? she wondered furiously—it was only a man. But a man that made you think of Rafael Santana, her mind whispered slyly, and Beth was furious, furious with the knowledge that she couldn't subdue the yearnings of her stubborn, wayward heart for just the sight of one particular tall, dark man. Paying only half a mind to Nathan's sharp remarks, Beth kept her eyes on the spot where the stranger had disappeared. She could not help wondering why, if she was so content, so satisfied with her relationship with Nathan, she should react so strongly to a fleeting glance of a man who might not even have been the one her heart wanted him to be. For the first time since she had made her decision to remain Nathan's wife, despite his impotency and his discreet affairs with the members of his own sex, she questioned whether she hadn't been foolish beyond belief. Perhaps I did us both an injustice, she decided miserably, and because she felt guilty for having such a thought, she forced herself to pay attention to Nathan's comments about the city.

  "Rustic" was the kindest word that Nathan applied to the growing, haphazard mass of wharves, warehouses, docks, and wooden houses that were scattered along the few dusty streets that led to the bay. Beth soothed his affronted sensibilities with promises that San Antonio, once they reached it, would be much more to his liking.

  Beth hid her own dismay at the city, and for the first time the full magnitude of the journey she had undertaken so lightheartedly hit her. They were leaving behind the comfort and elegance they had known all their lives. They were going to the frontier, the frontier where people did live in a certain amount of style and comfort but where Briarwood's cool, green gardens, marble mantels, elegant staircases, and luxurious appointments were as foreign to them as was this sprawling, bustling, rough-looking city to her.

  If Beth noticed that Nathan seemed cool to Sebastian and that there was a hint of contempt in Sebastian's manner toward Nathan during their few days in Galveston, she gave no indication, her thoughts determinedly on how much she was enjoying herself. She was enjoying herself, but Nathan's continued scathing comments on their accommodations and his opinion of Galveston left her feeling depressed and effectively destroyed the pleasure she would have taken in exploring the robust, oddly appealing little city. She had known the country they were going to be traveling through would be primitive; she thought Nathan had been aware of it to
o. Apparently all her explanations to him had been either forgotten or misunderstood, and she sighed unhappily as she realized that half her time was going to be spent in soothing Nathan's discomforts and convincing him he was actually enjoying the trip. A difficult task, if not impossible, she decided dolefully the afternoon before they were to leave.

  Nathan had been particularly venomous in his remarks earlier about the town, the people and even the countryside. Beth had fled to her tiny room at the hotel in order to keep from bursting out with some very unladylike comments of her own concerning his behavior.

  Her unhappiness had been noted by both the gentlemen, and each had his own interpretation of it. Nathan's was the most correct; he realized belatedly that his dislike of the situation was ruining Beth's enjoyment of the journey. Feeling a twinge of guilt over his liaison with Reginald Percy, he knocked on her door full of contrition.

  Beth was not inclined to see Nathan, but she made up her mind to have a frank discussion and she bade him enter.

  Nathan gave her no chance to speak. Crossing the room, he grasped her hand and kissed it. "My dear," he said in a remorseful voice, the gray eyes pleading for forgiveness, "I have been an utter brute! I know how much this journey means to you and I know you would have preferred to come without me... and what must I do but find fault with everything about it. I should not ask it of you, but please, my darling, forgive me. I shall try to be more agreeable and to keep my thoughts and comments to myself." Ruefully he added, "The entire reason I accompanied you was to see that everything went smoothly, and here I have been the one to cause you the most distress. Believe me, I did not mean to, and I shall try my utmost, from this moment on, to make this a journey that we shall remember with joy and fondness."

  Beth's spirits lifted. It was true that Nathan's inability to accept the conditions that were an integral part of any journey into the untamed portions of the continent had been destroying any pleasure she would have received. But it was also true that one of the things that made her marriage bearable was his willingness to please her once he knew that something meant a great deal to her. He had the endearing quality of meaning what he said. He would see to it that there were no more unpleasant scenes, and if it nearly killed him he would smile and manfully convince himself that he was having a marvelous time. There would be no further reproaches, no more of his petty complaints, and most of all, she would have his encouragement, knowing he would comfort her and, as he often did, show her the amusing side of it.