Ford, Jessie

by Remember Me Love

  And, no doubt, she would survive even him. Regret would stalk him, but he knew he would use her however he needed; yet, the most difficult part of his growing alliance with Louisa was the caution he imposed on himself, the agony of discarding a second chance to love freely. His painful memory of Juliet, his need to protect himself from decisions made from a position of loyalty to a woman he knew he could love without reason or even an element of caution, made him retreat from her. And now as she lay in his arms, she stirred, sensing his wakefulness and discomfort, waking momentarily, to snuggle more closely against him. Then she slept again, with Aaron still awake and increasingly miserable.

  With Louisa entwined with him, the scent and feel of her soft body filling him with longing, he remembered another young woman whose softness he'd lost himself in. Juliet was a wound never completely healed, much deeper than the still tender scars that disfigured his shoulder. Her memory was usually buried with the physical discomfort he'd grown used to, surfacing only when something unusual called the pain to his attention.

  As he had risked himself in his vengeance of Juliet, because he saw no other course, he found himself committed to this assignment in California through an obligation to himself and a surprising sense of loyalty to, and love for, his cruelly murdered friend and brother.

  He remembered his own shock, peering into Marshall's silent face and seeing his own, grieving at never having had the opportunity to really know the man, remembering only the boy who was so close to and so like himself. In a sense, Aaron felt he was avenging his own death, for in many respects, he felt himself murdered when he was sent to sea, sent by some of the very same men whose plotting was instrumental in Marshall's death. Again he must do what he must, even if it meant another part of his life was sacrificed.

  His bitterness overwhelmed him, making him inaccessible. All that surfaced were needs readily satisfied, especially in Louisa's arms. He would keep her by him for as long as possible, probably only for as long as she could live with his isolation, and now he turned to her in the darkness, pulling her from sleep, arousing her with caresses. He touched her full breasts with his fingertips, her nipples erect at his touch. Her legs pulled him to her, and she moved against him slowly, rhythmically. He took her breasts to his mouth and drank deeply of their sweetness, touching her with gentleness he'd thought he'd forgotten. Her pleasure grew as he kissed her deeply, reaching into her hair, urging her slowly. Louisa cried out at his motions, feeling herself fly to his caresses. She sought him hungrily, and her calling only made him pursue her more eagerly. He suppressed his great desire to soothe her aching with his body, and watched her as she responded with ecstasy to his hands.

  He held her when she was quiet, filling his senses with the softness of her skin, the' sweet aroma of her body, the warmth of her mouth, unwilling to let her go, overpowered by his desire to fill her body with his own. He touched her again, raising the intensity of her desire until they joined with mutual soaring joy.

  When they slept, they slept without dreams. When they woke, they were grateful for the new day and to see each other again. And Aaron watched as Louisa fell into his satin-lined steel trap. Coldly, he appraised the success of their union, believing his plans were well on their way to a successful outcome. Louisa was his to manipulate in his schemes. If there were anything left for them at the conclusion of his work, he would pursue it with great eagerness. But, as of now, he thought his heart was closed.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  THEIR preparations for the trip to Monterey were begun immediately. The barkentine Isabella was expected in two weeks and messages were dispatched, advising the conspirators that Marshall and Louisa Hudson were coming to take their places among them.

  Louisa prepared for their journey with both sadness and joy. She relinquished Rachel to a young woman whose baby had died days earlier, hoping the two would find great comfort in each other. And she knew Carmen would fill in for her very happily and very adequately.

  Within the next few days Louisa sorted and packed her trunks with clothes she had almost forgotten she owned. "Perhaps these are out of fashion," she worried to Aaron. "I'll have to have new things made."

  "It will be part of the charade. I'll enjoy pampering you, getting whatever you like to make you feel beautiful."

  She looked over her small but impressive collection of jewels. She'd had no occasion to wear them in recent months. "I believe I may actually enjoy some of this affair," she said, holding up piece after piece of jewelry. "I haven't danced for months, not since I left Louisiana. Do you know how to dance, Aaron?"

  "I've been very carefully prepared for my assignment, señora. They've made a silk purse from a sow's ear, this time."

  She laughed. "I never thought you coarse. Momma said 'low-born.' But I never saw it. I loved you so. God only knows what 'low-born' means. My mother had no right to use the word," she reflected, then turned to face Aaron lightheartedly. "Now, show me how to dance, if you can."

  He stared at her.

  "I mean it," she coaxed. "We don't want to look awkward when the time comes." She went to him and took his hands, trying to pull him with her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were shy―I'll even provide some music," and she began to hum softly, dancing in his arms.

  He was seduced by her, in spite of his vows, and it worried him. He danced with her, amused by her gaiety, taking advantage of a sudden invitation to make love to her.

  "Does this go with every dance, señora? I'm new to all of this."

  "Only if your name is on my dance card, señor."

  "Well?"

  "Let's see. There are three names: Marshall, Andrew, Aaron. Who are you, by the way?"

  "Take your pick."

  "Andrew―I've never made love to Andrew."

  "Which Andrew do you want? The boy who left you, or the man who forgot you?" His voice was edged with bitterness.

  "I'm wrong. I've made love to Andrew―that sweet night I learned who you are. Which was he, the boy or the man?"

  "The man would have loathed you, abused you. It's best you leave Andrew alone. And the child is gone."

  "Oh no, Aaron. The child is never gone, especially not now." Louisa kissed him, aware of his loss of interest. She stroked and soothed him, aroused and loved him in his need, giving and responding with the depth and sweetness he had been afraid he'd never know.

  Afterward she watched him, wondering about his thoughts as she lay against his back, encircling him with her arms. He had seemed to take deep satisfaction from their lovemaking, but now he brooded silently, almost unaware of her. She couldn't know his thoughts, but he worried over the immense pleasure he felt loving her. Their union was much more than a purely physical response. She touched him to his core and he knew his only concern must be with the success of his assignment. Then, slowly, the usefulness of his easy and deeply felt attraction for Louisa struck him as he realized their closeness would only make their association more authentic, the charade more convincing. I'll be careful, he swore to himself, turning to her to immerse himself again in the joy of holding her in his embrace.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  "WE leave at noon tomorrow, Louisa," Aaron announced one morning. "The Isabella is in the harbor." He paused to look at her. "Are you ready?"

  "Yes," she sighed, "I'm ready," and continued to arrange clothes to be stored in her absence.

  "You might want to know I've written Simon. I've informed him we're married and I've told him about Rachel. I've also reminded him we're both going to Monterey." He showed her the letter that would go overland, and watched as Louisa seemed to withdraw into herself. She shivered as if suddenly chilled.

  "Whoever tutored you, taught you well," she said quietly. "I'd have sworn this is written in Marshall's hand." She paused. "Surely you know Simon forbade our marriage?"

  Aaron sat down in front of her, taking her hand in his. "At first he did. But when Marshall learned you were pregnant, Simon saw his opposition was useless, and he accepte
d Marshall's going to California."

  "How did he ever learn I was pregnant? I was well out to sea before I was able to admit it to myself."

  "One of the crewmen from the Winged Horse left the ship at Cape Frio and returned to New Orleans with a message informing Simon."

  "Ah, yes ... Captain Tomas."

  "The message was accepted and read by Marshall before Simon even saw it. And when Emma found out, you should've heard the row. She never quite approved of you, but, truthfully, she liked Marshall's alliance with the Carson girl even less. And when Emma learned of your bargain with Simon, and Marshall's agreement to marry Janna Carson, Emma brought the house down. No one had ever seen her in such a fury. I would have loved being there!" He laughed to think of Emma Hudson in a rage. "She was angry with Marshall who willingly admitted his affair with you, even when she tried to protect him by saying you were notorious."

  "Was I notorious?" Louisa bristled.

  "You still are!" he laughed at her sudden sense of propriety. But he sobered quickly and tried to placate her. "Marshall was adamant in his decision to go after you. No threats from Simon moved him. And in Emma's disgust with Simon, she sided with her son. I guess all those years of gentle forbearance with his infidelity finally came to an end when she saw her son involved in what she regarded as a disgrace. And in a clearer moment, Simon reconciled himself to the fact that he couldn't stop Marshall. In fact, it inspired him to think of using Marshall in his California intrigue. After Marshall's departure, he wrote to Peter Melville in Monterey telling of Marshall's pending arrival. He explained that he expected Marshall to be useful―all of this without Marshall's knowledge. Obviously, someone doubted Simon's judgment in the matter, but we'll change their minds," he said, pulling her against him, trying to capture her in his arms, hoping to arouse her.

  Louisa frowned, almost pouting as he concluded. Aaron had stirred many ugly, unhappy memories for her. "Your sources are very accurate, which should reassure me, I suppose." She was silent for some minutes, taking in Aaron's words. "Poor Marshall. Coming to rescue me," she said sadly. "It was so like him." She looked away from Aaron's gaze, staring quietly into the afternoon.

  He watched her for a while, then spoke quietly, letting her go. "I must take care of some final details, Louisa. Don't wait for me this evening. I won't return until very late." He kissed her mouth softly, knowing he interrupted her lonely thoughts. "Someday, I hope there will be no more sadness in your eyes."

  "It will be a long time coming, I'm afraid." Then she kissed him. "Please wake me when you come in."

  When he left her, Louisa sat amid the trunks and baggage. She had one final trunk to organize. She opened her jewel case and looked at the glittering stones. "I've quite a collection for a castaway," she thought aloud, holding up her favorite necklace, a gift from Marshall. It was a large tear-shaped pearl, clustered with diamonds in a platinum setting. "The shape is very symbolic of our life together, isn't it, Marshall? But I have no more tears, even for you. I am empty."

  Louisa would never have believed it possible to be finished with Marshall. He had meant everything to her, solace, salvation, love, and sensual gratification. Their life together had been a mixture of deepest pain and profound pleasure. They had drifted in and out of each other's lives, weaving threads of love and fulfillment. He seemed always to come to her when she needed him, and she gratefully acknowledged the blessing it had been to be loved by him.

  Now Louisa sat staring at her precious gift from Marshall. The diamonds in the necklace sparkled in the lamplight, and the pearl had a luster all its own. She held the necklace against her throat and admired its beauty against her skin. "I would almost rather die than lose this necklace," she whispered, staring into the mirror, blinded by the flashing of the jewels in the glass. She felt foolish to have said it, but the sentiment was undeniable. This gift from Marshall was the only possession she had that truly meant anything to her. Everything else could be easily sacrificed, if need be.

  She slipped the precious necklace into its velvet pouch, which she slipped into a secret compartment in the trunk that only she was aware of. Then she packed the other jewels in the mahogany case, and into the trunk. Soon I'll be traveling again, she thought, and as far as the world is concerned, I'll be with Marshall―surely, no one will suspect. I wonder if even Emma could tell. She worried over the dangerous charade, praying the ghosts from her past would rest peacefully in their graves, and her sanity would go unchallenged in the night.

  Louisa ate a light supper of bread and wine, fruit and cheese with Carmen and Soledad, the young woman who so readily nursed Rachel. Why did my mother who had nothing but destruction to give, not lose her child? she asked herself. Why has this simple, loving woman lost hers? Where is the order in the universe?

  When she finished her meal, Louisa took her cloak, and despite a disapproving frown from Carmen, she went out for a last walk on the beach. The moon was enormous, suspended as if by magic over the dark mountains to the east, filling the night with unearthly luminescence. The tide was very low, and Louisa walked barefooted in the unusually quiet surf. The ocean murmured rather than roared and Louisa basked in its stillness. She let the sensations of sound and light wash over her, filling her with an extraordinary peace. Taking leave of this land and of her child was unreal, the separation would take time to settle into her being.

  Louisa strolled the water's edge, as aimless in her wandering as the curling of the water against the sand. The mild night air caressed and soothed her and she walked the length of the beckoning shore, past the boulders where she had not long ago confronted Aaron, until she reached the caves. Normally, the wavecarved hollows were at least partially submerged, but tonight the receding tide exposed them. She discarded her unneeded cape on the sand and crept through the gaping mouth of one tunneled-out boulder to stand her full height, then inch her way, in total darkness, the few feet to its exit. There, the surf surged gently, threatening to rise the few inches to flood the hollow. Louisa sat in the damp tunnel as if watching from some secret tower, and looked out over the water. She leaned against the cave's wall and settled in silence to stare without conscious thought into the shimmering silver sea.

  She thought perhaps she could spend the pleasant night in the cave, but prepared to return to the compound when a longboat edged around the cove. She retreated into the cave's darkness and watched as two men beached the craft and began to unload small crates into a natural bunker, well above the waterline. They worked quickly and silently, pausing occasionally to scan the beach. Louisa froze as one of the men raised his hand to halt the work of the other, and they hurriedly covered their cache and shoved the now empty boat into the surf, one man proceeding with silent oars across the water, the other returning to the beach toward Louisa.

  Her heart pounded wildly. She stood holding her breath, innocent of what she had witnessed, yet certain her observation had endangered her greatly. She shrank into the recesses of the slim cave, hoping it offered protection, for the depth of the tunnel would never save her. The cave was perhaps ten feet in length and at most six feet wide, so she was trapped in only a few feet of shadows. It would be suicide to step out onto the moonlit sand, she thought, suddenly knowing the terror of a stalked animal. She glanced into the water, instantly deciding what she must do. What brings him so accurately in my direction? she wondered in her panic. Then she remembered the cloak she'd thrown aside and the diamond-encrusted button reflecting in the rays of moonlight.

  Watching the man stride quickly toward her position, Louisa disrobed within seconds and slipped over the other edge of the cave and into the warm water. She splashed silently into deeper water, swimming a few feet, hoping to be sheltered by the shadows of the prominent glistening rocks protruding at this end of the small bay. She looked back, and saw the figure filling the open mouth of the cave. He held her cloak and an armful of her discarded clothes.

  "What?" She started in the gentle swells, hearing her name called.

 
; "Louisa! Damn it! Come out of the water!"

  Louisa laughed in spite of herself.

  "Damn it, I know you're there. Your clothes are still warm."

  Now Louisa laughed heartily. She rose and waved at him, laughing harder. "You nearly scared me to death!" she yelled. "Come for a swim, Aar―Marshall, the water's wonderfully warm." She laughed uproariously, splashing back into the water, drifting at will.

  "Come on, get out of the water! I've no time for games."

  "Damned if I'm getting out yet. I'm very wet already and enjoying this unexpected moonlight swim. Come and get me, Marshall."

  He retreated into the hollow to appear a few minutes later, naked, striding vigorously into the surf. He dove after her as she swam further into the shallow pool. He caught her quickly and she wound herself around him eagerly as they stood in elbow-deep water. He was no longer angry with her as he stroked her satin body.

  "What are you doing here, Louisa?"

  "What am I doing here? Why, I was out for a walk."

  "You're quite a distance from home."

  "I'm healthy and able to walk! What are you doing here, and how did you know it was me?"

  "Your clothes have your fragrance," he replied, beginning to touch her in an urgently familiar way.

  "Mmm, but that doesn't tell me what you are doing here."

  He was exasperated at being interrupted. "We're storing munitions here and there, in preparation for possible armed conflict."