The Gambler

by Lois Greiman

  "At the beginning," Fields repeated evenly. "And you start, madam."

  It seemed to take forever to wind up the tale. Although every word spoken was surprisingly honest, discounting a few embellishments on Clancy's part, Raven found he sounded like nothing more than a gold-digging scoundrel. He resisted wriggling in his chair like a recalcitrant boy and took a sip of the spiced coffee a servant had brought in.

  "So, in truth, you're uncertain of your own heritage, madam?" Fields asked now, still standing rigid with his arms behind his back.

  Charm's eyes showed every bit of uncertainty that was in her soul. For a moment Raven would have given anything just to have taken her in his arms.

  "It no longer matters." Her voice was very soft. Despite everything, Raven could hear no tension in it. Perhaps he should be grateful she had learned to trust as much as she had. Or perhaps it would never matter, for her hatred of him was something that could no longer be overcome. "I wish to return to my father."

  "To Jude?" Fields, it seemed, had not missed a word.

  "Yes." Charm remained very still, her slim hands clasped in her lap.

  "And renounce your fortune?"

  "Who can say if there is a fortune?" She quickly raised her gaze to the captain's. "But if there is, it's brought me nothing but trouble thus far."

  "She's right," said Clancy, shaking his head like some worldly schoolmaster. "You've treated her shamefully, Joseph."

  Shut the hell up, Raven wanted to say. Instead, he remained silent, watching Charm's somber face. If he could just hold her. Just for a moment.

  Fields paced again. "One has a responsibility to one's family, though, madam."

  She pursed her funny little mouth, painfully reminding Raven of a thousand different events that had shaken his world over the past weeks.

  "My responsibility is to Jude," she said softly. "And to myself. I want an annulment."

  All eyes watched her.

  "I fear I can't help you on that front, madam," Fields said quietly, "but I can, at least, give you some time to yourself, to think things through. I've a stateroom that adjoins mine. It would be an honor if you'd use it."

  "But..." Every fiber in Raven's body screamed foul. He needed to see her alone. She was his wife, for God's sake! "We don't wish to trouble you, or Mrs. Fields," he said, thinking quickly.

  The captain's gaze turned smoothly. If Raven weren't mistaken, there was, quite suddenly, a spark of laughter in it. "There is no Mrs. Fields."

  Damn, damn, damn! "Then I fear it would hardly seem proper—" Raven began in his most formal tone.

  "On the contrary," Fields interrupted, the shimmer of good humor hidden as he turned away. "It will be nothing but proper. I will consider Mrs. Scott's safety my personal responsibility, and will, if even remotely possible, grant her fondest desires. Mrs. Scott..." he went on, extending his arm to her, "if you'll accompany me, I'll show you to your quarters and send a roustabout round to retrieve your possessions."

  "Charm!" Raven stood suddenly, though he knew better^ knew he should remain as he was, retain some pride.

  Fields turned with her on his arm. "Yes, Mr. Scott?"

  "She's my wife." They were, despite it all, the only words he could think to say.

  Charm's smile appeared suddenly, slightly tilted, showing tiny dimples with her perfect insincerity. "I'll be certain to correct that problem at the earliest possible moment," she said, and turning smoothly, disappeared through the doorway on the captain's capable arm.

  Dinner was excruciating. Perhaps fifty passengers crowded the dining area. Five shared the captain's table—Mr. Phelps, a man of obvious affluence, Fields, Clancy, Raven, and...

  Charm! Only by the sheerest will power was Raven able to keep his gaze from welding to her. But in truth there was no need to look, for he'd relegated every detail to his memory. She sat at the captain's right, laughing her low lilting laugh now and then, and flirting. Not with words, or in any other concrete way, but flirting, nevertheless, to Raven's way of thinking.

  Somehow she'd coaxed her hair to the top of her head, from where it spiraled down in intriguing curlycues of feminine appeal. Her face seemed to glow in the light of the falling sun, and her dress...

  Raven swore in silence, forcing himself to keep his gaze from her, to remember his pride. But where the hell had she gotten that damn dress? It was lavender, sprigged with a design of delicate apple blossoms and cut so low that every time she drew a breath, Raven held his.

  "Don't she look grand in that getup?" asked Clancy, leaning closer to Raven's left side. "Now you gotta agree, Joseph, there's an example of money well spent."

  It took a moment for Raven to understand Bodine's meaning. This was the gown Charm had refused to buy, but Clancy had purchased anyway. It set his teeth on edge knowing she'd decided to wear it now, with another man, even if that man was over twice her age and a picture of proper etiquette.

  Clancy chuckled. "Told you it fit her like a second skin, didn't I? That you'd thank me for my farsighted friendship someday? I'll tell you." He chuckled again. "When she first tried it on, I feared she'd bust right out of it, but you know, it's surprising how them seams hold all that... Joseph, you been smoking? I think there's steam coming out of yer ears."

  "Captain." Raven sat very still, lest he do something he'd later regret. Murder for instance. "If it's not too much to ask, I'd like a few moments with my wife." Despite his best intentions, his voice sounded taut.

  Fields lifted his gaze. 'That would be up to the lady, sir."

  "Charm?" Raven said, but though he did his best to manage politeness, his tone was tighter still.

  "Yes, Mr. Scott?" She lowered her chin slightly, dimpling.

  Raven swore again, silently, first at Clancy, out of habit, then at himself for being such a besotted, weak-kneed fool, and then at her, for having the spirit of a devil cat and still making him want her. "Would you accompany me for a stroll around the deck?"

  "Oh." She'd gotten a fan from somewhere. Probably Clancy had purchased it with the gown, for it too was of lavender hue. It also possessed slightly more fabric than the bodice of the dress. "Thank you ever so for asking, sir, but... no... I think not."

  His teeth hurt. "Charm!" The single word sounded a bit more like a threat than he'd planned.

  "I'm available, Miss Charm," said Clancy cheerfully, "if you're looking for an escort and Joseph here ain't up to snuff."

  "Why, Mr. Bodine!" She tilted her mesmerizing face downward, fanning herself and sounding like a simpering southern miss. But simpering southern misses didn't generally carry knives in their garters and derringers in their pockets. Yes, Raven thought stiffly, his Charm was decidedly unique. "How gallant of you. But no, I think I'll retire to my room."

  "Charm!" Raven stood when she did, aware of the interest he drew from every man present. "I'd like a word with you."

  "The lady said no, Mr. Scott." Fields's tone was low. Although they didn't move, Raven had the distinct feeling that the two large servers, who were standing very near their table, were suddenly very tense, as if waiting for their captain's command. "And on the Yankee Belle, a lady's wish is gospel."

  "To hell with the Yankee Belle" Raven said through a congenial smile. He held Fields's gaze but was aware of two more large bodies shifting closer to the captain's table.

  Four big men against himself, Raven thought. True, the odds weren't good, but they were stimulating, and would, perhaps, relieve the burning frustration that seized him.

  Fields watched him with his all-seeing eyes. "Were I you, I wouldn't chance it, Mr. Scott."

  Raven smiled slowly, feeling the pump of excitement in his veins. "And why is that, Mr. Fields?"

  "Because it would be extremely painful."

  "But..." Raven let his gaze skim to the two pair of toughs. They were slightly bigger than he'd first thought. He turned his attention back to the captain. "She's my wife."

  Fields nodded once, as though in concession. "But it would be a very l
ong swim before you saw her again."

  With a half grin and a shallow nod, Raven removed his coat before hanging it carefully upon the back of his chair. His vest came off next, drooping a little where Charm's bible rested in its pocket. "I'm a hell of a swimmer," he said evenly. "Clancy here taught me."

  "What are you talking about?" Charm asked. Her simpering mannerisms were suddenly gone, replaced by her characteristic, steely tone.

  "I believe your young Mr. Scott wishes to fight my men for the honor of a few words with you," offered Fields.

  Charm's face went absolutely pale. "That's insane."

  "Tell you what, Fields," Raven said quietly. "I'll make you a bet."

  The captain's arms crossed slowly against his chest. "I've been known to make a wager or two, Mr. Scott."

  "I'm saying I can take out three of them."

  The captain smiled with a tilted nod, as if admiring Raven's bravado while doubting his ability. "And if you do?"

  "Then I stay on the Belle."

  "It's a bet."

  "But if I take out all four..." Raven said, his tone carefully flat, "then I get ten minutes alone with my wife."

  There was an interesting light in Fields's eyes. "That decision would still have to be up to Mrs. Scott?"

  'This is insane," she repeated, her voice louder and more harsh.

  "You needn't say yes," Fields assured. "The decision is yours."

  "Stop this. Right now."

  "But the wager's already set, madam."

  "Raven!" She appealed to him suddenly, her tone sharp. "Stop it!"

  "I'd think you could spare ten minutes," Raven said evenly, "if I whip 'em all." Brawling brought out the white trash in him and jumbled his speech to his native level.

  "Raven!" she pleaded as their gazes locked.

  "Yes or no, Charm?" he asked quietly.

  Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment, but finally emitted a plea. "Please don't," she whispered.

  "Yes or no?"

  "I'll talk to you," she promised.

  Raven found a smile, welcoming her expression of horror, yet knowing he was a fool to hope she was worried for his safety. Still, perhaps he should take advantage of her moment of weakness and try to speak to her immediately. He found, however, that his fighting blood was up and that he welcomed the opportunity to battle against flesh instead of her impenetrable defenses. "It's a wager then, Captain."

  "Good." Fields rose abruptly, motioning to someone unseen. "I'll see you safely to your quarters then, madam. And you..."—he nodded toward Raven with a spark of respect in his eyes—"you and my men will go directly to the hold." He stepped away from the table, offering his arm to Charm as he did so.

  She was holding her breath.

  "Oh, and Mr. Scott..." Fields turned with a hand on Charm's fingers. "I will join you very shortly. Don't start without me."

  *

  Charm turned abruptly in her doorway to glare at Captain Fields. "This is barbaric! Why are you letting them do this? They'll kill him."

  The captain smiled. "Be assured that I won't let it go that far."

  "Please." Her voice sounded strange. "Stop the fight."

  He watched her closely, his gaze thoughtful. "I don't remember your Mr. Scott being such an impetuous man. But perhaps it will rid him of some pent-up frustration, yes?" He smiled, reaching for the door handle. "And besides, this little contest will give you time to consider your wish for an annulment. Oh!" He turned abruptly back toward her. "And about your fondest desire." He laughed. "It seems derringers are in rather short supply on the Yankee Belle, but perhaps at our next port."

  "Please stop them," Charm pleaded suddenly, gripping his sleeve in stiff fingers. "Please."

  He watched her. "You're an interesting and alluring woman, madam. If I were a younger man I'd envy your Mr. Scott. As it is..."—his eyes sparkled mischievously—"I'll simply pray for him." He left then, closing the door behind him and speaking quietly to someone on the far side.

  Charm stalked her narrow room like a caged cat, trying to calm her breathing, to think rationally, but the entire situation was insane. She had to stop them! The truth came rather belatedly, but when it did she rushed to the door, seizing the handle before coming to a halt.

  The fact was, Raven didn't love her, had lied to her repeatedly; was using her. He deserved to have the tar beaten out of him, and if he did, she didn't care. She swore she didn't but jerked open the door even as she made that vow.

  A large, ham-shaped face turned impassively toward her from the hallway. "Mrs. Scott." His tone was deep and thoroughly respectful, his nod shallow and slow.

  She took a swift, frightened step back. "Who are you?"

  "My name's Ralph, ma'am."

  "I want to go to my husband."

  "I'm afraid the captain wouldn't like that, ma'am, seein's as how yer man's... ahhh... occupied just now."

  She lifted her chin and swallowed hard. He was, she thought, the biggest lump of human flesh she'd ever seen. "I said, I want to see Raven."

  Ralph looked at her as if to say that perhaps she should have thought of that sooner, but he said nothing to that effect, instead merely nodded toward the room behind her. “The captain thinks you'd be safest here."

  "I told you." She narrowed her eyes, feeling her heart pound wildly in her chest and trying to look dangerous despite the fact that the top of her head failed to reach Ralph's collarbone. "I don't give a..."

  Ralph loomed closer, causing her to scurry back. "The captain says you stay put," he all but grunted. "So you stay put."

  "Oh." She swallowed and retreated another pace, letting her eyes fill with a fear that was painfully real. "I suppose you're right. After all, a fight is no place for a lady. I might faint or..." She kicked him with all the strength she had before pivoting away.

  There was a yelp of pain, but as she flew toward the stairs, she could already hear the giant's limping steps following her. Despite his bulk, he was quick. Charm felt his blunt fingers graze her back. She shrieked, dodging to the right before grasping her skirts and sprinting for the stairs.

  "Hey!" yelled the giant, thundering after.

  Her lungs burned with panic. She was almost at the bottom. One more step... But suddenly her toe snagged in her petticoat and she tripped. Hands grabbed her and she screamed, righting herself to spin around and deliver a quick knuckled jab to the giant's eye. He grunted in pain, thrusting his fingers over his abused face. There was no time for guilt, only time to flee, to save Raven. She lurched away... only to smack gracelessly into another man's chest. A scream ripped from her throat, but already Clancy was steadying her.

  "Hey, Miss Charm. It's all right."

  "Clancy," she breathed, feeling weak with relief. "Take me to him."

  He scowled. "To Joseph?"

  For a moment she considered hitting him too. "Of course to Joseph! I have to stop this," she gasped.

  "Truth is, miss, he sent me to make certain you stay put."

  Charm opened her mouth to protest, but Clancy held up a calming hand. "Seein' as how you're so set on goin' to him, I'll sure..." His fist hit her chin dead center. She fought for clarity, but darkness filled her head and she fell into the waiting arms of the giant behind.

  She woke with a start just after dawn and dragged herself groggily to the door. It was locked. "Let me out!" she shouted. Trying the handle again, she nearly fell into the arms of the ham-faced Ralph. She stumbled forward, finally finding her balance and skidding to a halt. "Where is he?" she asked, straightening dizzily.

  Ralph, she noticed, had a black eye. He didn't back away but looked as if he wished to. "Who?"

  Charm doubled her fists. "Where?"

  "Mrs. Scott," said a voice from her opposite side.

  She turned with a start to recognize Mr. Phelps, her table companion from the evening before. Having already sized him up, she saw no need to waste her time now. Paunch and ego were his outstanding characteristics.

  Charm scowled. In the hazy
light of dawn, she regretted many things, not the least of which was her foolish flirting of the night before. But anger and bitterness showed no favors when it picked a fool, and she'd felt unusually secure under the captain's protective regard. Secure enough to hope to make Raven share some of the agony she felt at his betrayal.

  "You look very lovely this morning, madam."

  She scowled, far too preoccupied to act coy. "I'm busy just now."

  "Is something wrong?"

  Obviously something was wrong. She narrowed her eyes a bit more. "Do you know where my husband is?"

  "No, I'm afraid I..."

  "Then Ralph will have to tell—"

  "Mrs. Scott," the captain called. Charm turned abruptly toward him. "Up so early to terrorize poor Ralph?"

  "How is he?" Her head hurt and her vision was slightly blurred but she managed the question.

  "Would you care for a turn about the top deck?" asked Fields.

  "Patronize me once more and I'll pop you in the eye too," she warned. "I want to know where he is."

  The captain actually laughed. "Come along, madam. We'll converse as we walk."

  She took his arm with a scowl before pacing along beside him, her own strides consistently outpacing his.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, gazing out across the wide, muddy Missouri to the endless green of the rolling riverside.

  "How is he?" she asked again, still scowling.

  The captain kept up his leisurely stroll. "He, madam? Oh, of course, the young man from whom you'll soon obtain an annulment. I'm really not certain."

  "What do you mean?" She found with some surprise that she'd pulled the captain to a halt. "What do you mean you don't know?"

  He watched her quietly, and if his eyebrows weren't raised they might just as well have been. "I mean I haven't yet seen him this morning."

  "Then he's..." She drew a deep steadying breath, knowing she should attempt to act cool and aloof, but failing to do so. "He's still on the boat?"

  The smallest piece of a smile showed on Fields's square face. "Your Mr. Scott seemed to have a good deal of energy to expel." From the second deck a mate waved to him.

  Fields nodded in reply. "For a while I thought you'd be obliged to speak to him." His eyes were sparkling again, as if the demon had escaped captivity. "But Eli falls hard."