Gregory, Lisa

by Bonds of Love

  Finally, he said, “Sir, I’ve come to ask your permission to ask your daughter to marry me.”

  Devereaux looked at him thoughtfully, and the lieutenant rushed on. “I know I am only a lieutenant, sir, and my prospects are not outstanding. I plan to rejoin the merchant marine after the War is over, and someday I hope to own my own ship. It would not be a life of luxury, but I can provide for her, and if Miss Devereaux would be content to be a sea captain’s wife, I know we could make a go of it. Sir, I sincerely love and respect your daughter; I would cherish her always.”

  “I’m sure you would, Lieutenant Perkins. And I have no doubt that Katherine would be a splendid sea captain’s wife. However, Katherine doesn’t come by herself. She is my only child, and she carries along with her my shipyards, my fortune.”

  The young man colored hotly. “Sir, I have no desire for your daughter’s wealth. I—”

  “Tut, tut, young man, what would you have me do with it? Bestow it on some distant cousin? I am sure you are no fortune hunter. But you must be realistic. Katherine will inherit from me, and I fear that, capable as she is, she will be unable to run it entirely by herself as well as raise a family. Are you prepared to help her with that burden?”

  The lieutenant looked at him steadily for a moment. “I think that I would be capable of operating it, sir, with Miss Devereaux’s help, and I believe that I will be able, when the time comes, to stop sailing in order to run the yards.”

  “Well, Lieutenant Perkins, I will tell you frankly that I favor your suit. However, I will also tell you that the final decision rests with my daughter. Katherine is, as you know,” he smiled briefly, “an independent young woman. She will marry as she chooses. Therefore, I suggest you take your suit up with her, with my blessing.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He rose and gratefully shook the older man’s hand. “Is she at home?”

  “No, she is at a concert with her aunt and the Stephenses. May I suggest that you wait in the library. She should be here within the hour. I shall send her to the library—and her aunt up to bed.” His eyes twinkled.

  Katherine, caught between Henry Stephens’s warm glances on her left and his daughter’s murderous gaze on her right, was at the moment wishing she were home. Why had Aunt Amelia ever accepted the Stephenses’ invitation to the concert? Their private box was too small, Lillian too spiteful, and Stephens too phonily lovesick. He sat beside her and had twice that evening secretively taken her hand in his clammy grasp. Both times she had jerked it away in irritation.

  “Auntie,” she said suddenly, “I hate to spoil your pleasure, but I have developed the most awful headache. Do you think we could return home?”

  Immediately everyone was all concern, Mr. Stephens solicitously insisting on their all leaving and taking her home in his carriage. When finally he left them at their door, Katherine sagged in relief. The butler’s information that her father had left word for her to see him in the library made her sigh. All she wanted was to tumble into bed.

  When she stepped into the library, Lieutenant Perkins sprang up from an easy chair. “Miss Devereaux, you are home early.”

  “Why, Lieutenant Perkins, what a pleasant surprise. But where’s Father?”

  He smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid that was a ruse on his part to separate you from your aunt. You see, I—I have his permission to speak to you.”

  Katherine sank onto a couch. It was coming—his proposal. And what was she to say? The lieutenant nervously strode to the bookshelves and seemed intent on the book titles. Finally he took a deep breath and turned to face her.

  “Miss Devereaux, you must know of my regard for you. I think you are a lovely, gracious, intelligent lady. I have respected and admired you for many months. I—I would like to ask you to—become my wife.” His voice ended almost in a whisper.

  “Lieutenant Perkins, I hardly know what to say. I, too, have a great deal of feeling for you,” she paused, “but marriage is such a great undertaking. I—I must have time to think. Could I think about it for a few days and tell you later?”

  “Of course,” he said formally. “However, I would like to know before next Tuesday. I sail then on the Henry Kemper.”

  “To the blockade?” Why did he speak so coolly, so formally, if he loved her? Why didn’t he pour out his passion for her, cover her face with tender kisses? He hadn’t even spoken of love. She told herself not to be silly. He was not a man overcome with passion, but one who approached life and marriage sensibly, rationally. He wanted to marry her because they would get along well together, be able to form a firm, solid marriage. He was not looking for love but companionship and a peaceful, industrious life together. And wasn’t that exactly what she should be looking for also?

  “Yes, to the blockade,” he answered, keeping his voice level. His hands trembled and he wanted to throw himself at her feet, to beg her to marry him, to hold her close and kiss her passionately, but he refrained. He knew he must not frighten her, must not make her bolt. Go slow, keep calm, he told himself, give her time to think. “I’d like to know that you were here, waiting, promised to me. Somehow I’d feel easier about leaving you. Please let me know before then.”

  “I will. Just let me have tonight to think it over. Come tomorrow afternoon at four; I’ll get Aunt Amelia out of the way.”

  “I’ll be here.” He didn’t trust himself even to kiss her hand, but turned and left quickly.

  Katherine went up to bed and tossed and turned all night, trying to solve her problem. It seemed so right, and yet—and yet, he didn’t love her or she him. Quietly she wept into her pillow and fell asleep finally as dawn was breaking.

  She awoke feeling and looking terrible. Staring at her tired, wan face in the mirror, she said, “Pegeen, I think I’ll wear that pale blue dress today. And I’ll let you dress my hair differently.” Somehow she felt she must look her best today.

  Pegeen clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, miss, is it the lieutenant? Do you think he’s going to ask you today?”

  “He already has and I must give him my answer this afternoon. Come to get me early, about two. And when he comes, we must keep Auntie from coming in.”

  “Oh, no, miss, I’ll let him in myself and keep everyone out, even if I have to bar the door. Oh, Miss Kate, a wedding! I’m so excited.”

  “Wait, hold on a minute. I said I was going to give him my answer; I didn’t say it was going to be yes.”

  Pegeen’s face fell. “Oh, but miss, I know you love him. Why, think of the way you moped around when he was gone those three weeks. And he loves you.”

  “Does he?”

  “Of course; anybody can tell that by the way he looks at you. Sure now, it’s ‘yes’ you’ll be saying this afternoon.”

  Katherine sighed. “I wish I were as sure as you.”

  When Pegeen finished with her mistress’s hair, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Oh, Miss Kate, you look beautiful.”

  Her dress was a pale ice blue, its frosty look softened by a tiny frill of white lace at collar and cuffs. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon, but was looser, fuller about the face with two carefully astray tendrils escaping from the temples. She looked softer than usual, beautifully aloof. Even Katherine had to admit that the effect was good. She smiled at her reflection, and behind her Pegeen smiled, too.

  The morning at the office seemed to drag; she couldn’t keep her thoughts on her work. Like a mouse in a cage, her thoughts ran around and around in the same path. She was relieved when a diversion arrived in the form of two naval officers. They seemed somewhat surprised to see a girl in the office, but greeted her politely and went into her father’s inner office. After a few moments, Mr. Devereaux stepped out of his door.

  “Teddy, run down to MacPherson and tell him I’d like to see a prisoner of his crew. A man named Hampton.”

  Katherine looked up in interest. What did the officers want with Hampton? Had he done something wrong again? Was he to be removed from the yards forever?

/>   Her father turned toward her. “While he’s getting the prisoner, I’m going to show the major and the lieutenant over the new blockader we’re building.”

  “All right, Father,” Katherine said absently, her mind on the possible reasons for the Navy’s visit. She gave the men a perfunctory smile as they trooped out.

  Hampton was as mystified as she when MacPherson called him from his work to tell him his presence was requested in the office. Walking toward the brown brick building, he pumped Teddy for information, but the boy knew no more than that two Navy officers had arrived and now Mr. Devereaux wanted to see him. He felt a touch of uneasiness. Surely it wasn’t the girl. She had had the perfect opportunity to report him a couple of months ago when he attacked her, and yet she had not. Nor did her generosity toward his men betoken vindictiveness. In fact, he sometimes wondered if she had really had anything to do with his punishment; it was as likely that it had been solely because he had almost attacked a guard.

  More likely, his escape plan had somehow been discovered. In his mind he reviewed his men; was one of them a traitor? He could hardly believe it. Perhaps a guard had overheard a comment.

  His thoughts suddenly stopped when he crossed the threshold of the office door and saw Katherine seated at her desk. How lovely she looked—delicate, expensive, aloof. Desire for her washed over him and his eyes moved over her hungrily. She colored slightly at his gaze and dropped her eyes to her desk. He drew a shaky breath, fighting to control himself, and took a seat with an air of nonchalance. He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his arms behind his head, regarding her with his cool, lazy stare.

  Katherine was glad to have her desk between them. Even across the room she was as aware of him as if he had been standing beside her. An invisible current seemed to leap from him to her, tensing her muscles, making her nerves stand on end. She felt as if she were being drawn toward him against her will, pulled by the very intensity of his gaze. He didn’t speak, but his eyes caressed her, disrobed her. Thoughtfully he ran his fingers slowly across his lips, and she, watching him, was reminded of the feel of his smooth, warm lips on hers. Unconsciously, she moistened her lips with her tongue, and he smiled, his eyes glinting. She flushed hotly and tried to turn her attention to the work on her desk.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait, Mr. Hampton. Father has taken the major and the lieutenant on a tour of a new ship.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” he said in his soft drawl. “In fact, I enjoy it. You’ve done your hair a new way, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I—I’m surprised you noticed.”

  “I notice everything about you, Miss Devereaux.” His voice caressed her name, making it sound more intimate than if he had called her by her Christian name. Katherine, feeling strangely warm and uncomfortable, avoided meeting his eyes and instead stared fixedly out the window. She was not the only one to feel uncomfortable—Teddy could feel tension in the air, though he was mystified as to why. He shifted uneasily on his feet.

  “Why don’t I go get Mr. Devereaux and tell him you’re here?” he volunteered, struck by inspiration. He was out the door almost before Katherine could open her mouth to tell him to stay, and Katherine was left staring at the closed door. She froze—what was she to do?

  “Have you any idea how lovely you are?” he asked, and his husky voice sent prickles down the back of her neck.

  She shook her head a little, afraid to answer, afraid to listen to him, afraid not to hear what he said. He continued in his quiet, smooth voice, “I want you. I want to kiss you, to feel your sweet tongue in my mouth. I want to undress you, to touch you, to fondle you.”

  Uncontrollably, she trembled at his voice. She heard him rise and come rapidly toward her, but she didn’t dare look at him. He stopped beside her, gently grasped her arms and pulled her to her feet. With one hand he tilted up her face, and she was forced to look at him. Mesmerized, she stared into his gray eyes, now strangely alight with something she did not recognize or understand.

  “Please,” she whispered, not knowing what she was asking for.

  His head moved down to hers, his lips taking hers, softly, tenderly at first, then increasingly more greedily. He tore his mouth from hers and began to kiss her face, her neck, her ears. His tongue probed her ear and she stiffened, strange darting flashes of warmth assaulting her.

  “Oh, no,” she murmured.

  “Oh, yes,” he mumbled, nibbling at her earlobe. “Oh, God, yes.”

  Fiercely his lips swooped down on hers again and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him as if he wanted her to melt into him. His tongue ravaged her mouth until instinctively she responded and her tongue crept timidly into his mouth. A violent shudder shook his frame and a half laugh-half groan sounded deep in his throat. He crushed her to him harder and kissed her hungrily, his tongue teasing hers, first retreating, then thrusting deep, lightly caressing. She felt dizzy and faint from his kisses and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as to a rock in an unsteady world.

  His lips left her, and she gasped at the loss, but he kissed her face, her ears, nuzzling and nibbling at her neck until he evoked little involuntary whimpers from her throat. “My little girl, my sweet little girl,” he murmured against her ear. “It’s been so long, so long. Please.” His breath was hot and swift. “Please.” His fingers fumbled at her hair, jerking out pins until the heavy mass came tumbling down into his hands. He groaned and buried his face in her hair. Again he kissed her lips; then his mouth began to travel down her throat. Limply she let her head fall back, leaning securely against the steel band of his arm. He unbuttoned the tiny buttons of her dress, his burning lips following the trail of his hands. Her bodice undone, he slipped one hand inside her chemise, cupping and caressing her breasts. He pulled her to him and turned her sideways, supporting her yielding body against his chest and arm while he pulled her chemise down and explored her breasts, his fingers teasing her rosy nipples into hardness. “Beautiful,” he whispered and bent his head to kiss her, his mouth retracing where his hands had roamed, until she smothered a moan against his chest.

  “Oh, Katherine,” he said shakily, “I take back what I said about Boston women. There’s fire in you.” His hand strayed downward, delving through layers of dress and petticoats and hoop, until his hand rested against her bare stomach, and she gasped at his touch. He quieted her gasp with his mouth, kissing her until she felt that she would swoon. She clung to his shirt, awash in a haze of desire, assaulted by wild, strange feelings she had never suspected existed. He lost himself in her, her lips and her succulent body under his hands setting him aflame.

  They were shaken back into reality by the sound of men’s voices coming across the yard. Her father and the officers! He tore his mouth from hers and stood staring down into her face, breathing heavily, his face flushed with desire. She stared back, numb with fright. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly released his breath.

  “Get into that office and put yourself back together. I’ll hold them off out here,” he said tersely.

  She whirled and raced into her father’s office, closing and locking the door behind her. Hampton threw himself into a chair and assumed a casual air, holding his hat in his lap to hide the telltale bulge in his trousers. Katherine leaned against the door and with trembling fingers pulled up her chemise and buttoned her multitude of tiny pearl buttons.

  The outside door opened, and she pressed her ear to the door to hear. There was a great deal of noise of feet entering, then her father’s voice saying, “Where is my daughter?”

  Hampton’s lazy drawl answered him, “Locked herself in that office. Doesn’t seem to fancy my company.”

  Katherine pressed her hands to her burning cheeks. How could he sound so casual and offhand after what he had done to her! She knew that guilt was written all over her face. Clumsily she tried to twist her thick hair back into a knot. But all of her pins lay scattered on the floor in the next ro
om. Hot, scalding tears slid down her cheeks. Whatever had possessed her? All those horrid, shameful things he had done to her; she would never be able to hold her head up again. And she hadn’t fought him, hadn’t threatened him with her gun, hadn’t even protested! She had just stood there and let him do what he wanted—had even responded. She thought of the way she had kissed him and clasped her hand against her mouth. She had actually enjoyed his kisses and caresses, enjoyed them in a wild way she had never before enjoyed anything. Good Lord, was she a wanton? One of those loose women proper ladies whispered about?

  In the room beyond the murmur of voices was broken by Hampton’s clear, amused laugh. “Surely, gentlemen,” he said coolly, “you can’t really believe that I will tell you about the waterways around Charleston. Have I ever given you any reason to think that I am a traitor?”

  Katherine wished she could hurl a heavy object at him. How could he dare to be so calm and collected when she was all in disarray and trembling? She couldn’t marry Lieutenant Perkins now—he would be so revolted to discover this vulgar tendency in her. Only—only perhaps that was what married people did; perhaps Perkins would be pleased with her as the captain had been. Maybe this sinful streak in her would be satisfied in marriage. If she did not marry, might not her nature betray her into doing something awful, perhaps become a “fallen” woman? Perhaps marriage was the only honorable recourse open to her. And yet, wouldn’t that be deceiving poor Lieutenant Perkins?

  “Katherine?” Her father tapped lightly on the door. “You can come out now. The ogre is gone.”

  Katherine gulped. How was she to face her father? Sternly she willed herself to be calm—he must not suspect. “Oh, Papa, I wasn’t hiding from him,” she said, amazed to find that her voice didn’t tremble. She opened the door. “I had such a horrid headache, I had to undo my hair and rest a minute on the sofa.”