“Don’t be rude. What are your brothers like?”
“Shelby is—was—a great deal like Father. He rides well, shoots well, drinks well, wears his clothes well, never does anything that is not exactly what a gentleman does. He’s a planter.” His face turned hard. “He was shot at Antietam, killed in a charge. Typical of Shel—all courage and no sense.
“Now David’s more like me. Always had a feeling for the sea. Like Grandpa. Not quite the gentleman that Shel was. Though, you will be happy to know, not as wicked as I. I, you see, was always the bane of my parents’ existence. I was forever doing something improper.”
“Like getting thrown out of college?”
He looked startled. “How did you know that?”
“Peljo told me.”
“That’s Peljo—loyally silent to the end.”
“He seemed rather proud of your educational exploits.”
Hampton shrugged. “Boyish pranks. I wanted to go to sea, but the family wouldn’t let me. First I must have the proper Southern gentleman’s education and then the proper tour of the Continent. By then, they hoped, I would be over such nonsense. So I went, but I was hardly a prize student.”
“And did you abduct young ladies then, too?”
“No. The one I got expelled over was quite willing—but off limits to students. You are the only girl I ever kidnapped, you know.”
“What an honor,” she said dryly. “I think you should rest some now.”
“All right. Why don’t you read to me?”
“What would you like to hear?”
“Not that awful Ivanhoe. My sympathies were always with his enemy.”
“Naturally, since he was a rapist, too.”
“Read Tom Jones.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” She blushed. “That’s a highly improper book.”
“What nonsense. Just read it.”
She sighed and fetched the book. Before long, both of them were convulsed with laughter. Katherine felt deprived that she had been kept from reading it all these years. She wondered whether her enjoyment of it stemmed from her general lack of ladylike sensibilities or the fact that now she was a fallen woman and understood what it was about.
The next day, while she sat watching Matthew rest, she turned over in her mind some of the things she would like to ask him. There were so many forbidden things she was curious about, things she would never have dared ask anyone else. She was sure Matthew would answer them. At least he wasn’t all nonsensical about sheltering her from evil knowledge. The problem, really, was that she hated so exposing herself to him in all her dreadfully unladylike, improper, wicked curiosity. No doubt it would confirm his estimation of her as a secret wanton.
His eyes opened, and her stomach fluttered a little. His eyes were so handsome, shadowed by lashes so long that it was criminal for a man to possess them. Without thinking she blurted out, “You must have had so many women.”
Hampton blinked, trying to orient himself. “What a peculiar thing for you to say.”
Katherine blushed, realizing how what she had said must sound. She pulled herself up to full height and said haughtily, “I don’t fool myself that you are not an attractive man, Captain Hampton. It’s a pity that your soul is not equal to your looks.”
“I stand reproved,” he said in a chastened tone. “In answer to your rather impertinent question, I suppose I have known a fair number of women. None quite like you, if that’s what you want to know.”
“I had nothing of the kind in mind,” she sniffed.
“I’m not sure what you want to know. Do you want me to tell you about all of them?”
“I do not,” she snapped. “I’m sure that would take too much time.”
He grinned teasingly and she picked up Tom Jones and began to read aloud. However, that night, when she had climbed into bed clad in her chemise and lain down by his side, her head resting against his arm, she began to question him again, feeling sheltered and concealed by the darkness.
“Captain Hampton?” she said softly.
“Don’t you find it a bit ridiculous to be lying in a man’s arms and addressing him as if he were a total stranger?”
She remained silent and he sighed. “What is it, Katherine?”
“I—I wanted to ask you a question—if you promise not to laugh at me.”
“Good grief. What?”
“You’ve been to—that kind of place, haven’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“One of those places where bad women are—you know.”
“A brothel?”
“Yes.”
“For Heaven’s sake, why don’t you just say what you mean? Yes, I’ve visited brothels.”
“What are they like?”
“You show the most shocking lack of propriety,” he said, his voice warmly teasing.
She nudged him with her elbow. “Stop being obnoxious and tell me.”
He turned toward her more and pulled her closer to his chest, casually running a hand down her side to rest on her hip. It felt warm and good to lie like this with her, talking to her without strain between them, as natural as any couple.
“Well, it depends on how expensive the place is. Some of them are just broken-down houses, but the fancy ones have plush red carpet and red velvet curtains. Couches and chairs and benches covered in velvet. Usually a big marble bar. And the walls are covered with big, gold-framed mirrors and paintings of nude women.”
“You’re joking. Actually nude?”
He chuckled. “Yes, my dear. Actually nude, or perhaps with a filmy scarf draped across them.”
“What happens when you go there?”
“Well, you sit around and have a few drinks. Maybe there’s a buffet to eat from, too. Girls wander around in various stages of undress, and you talk to them and look at them. Choose the one you want.”
“Are they pretty?”
“Some are; some aren’t. Few as pretty as you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You think that I am pretty, don’t you?” she asked, sounding slightly amazed.
“Of course. You are beautiful.”
She lay quietly, digesting this thought. No one had ever thought her beautiful. Or desirable. Yet he had stolen her simply because he desired her. Not for her money, like other men; he had just wanted her for herself. Not even for her good stable nature and common sense, like Lieutenant Perkins. It was sort of a heady feeling, being desired and beautiful. Perhaps she was pretty. Perhaps Pegeen had been right; maybe it was just her demeanor and clothes and the way she wore her hair that made her unattractive. She felt a sudden desire to test out her desirability on him; she found herself wanting to touch him, to arouse him with teasing kisses, to wantonly drape herself across him.
Sternly she restrained herself and said, “And when you’ve chosen one?”
“Then you go upstairs to her room. Those differ also with the quality of the house. Some are very fancy, even have mirrors on the ceiling above the bed.”
“Mirrors?” Katherine repeated in a shocked tone.
“Yes. It can be rather erotic.”
“What do they do to you?”
“Varies. What they don’t do is lie beneath you, stiff as a board and teeth clenched.”
“I didn’t say I cared to emulate them,” Katherine flared.
“Calm down, now. Mostly they try to please you. They do what you ask them—different positions, or doing certain things that stimulate you.”
“Like what?”
“I shall be happy to show you,” he said quietly.
“Don’t be silly. You’re too weak. You have been sick.”
“I could never be too weak if you want me to make love to you.”
“Well, I don’t; so don’t trouble yourself. I was curious what they did differently.”
“They don’t do anything differently from what any woman will do if she is warm and passionate. It’s just that most women are too bo
und by propriety. Maybe they’ll do no more than just caress you; a man enjoys being touched and kissed, too.” His voice was husky. “Oh, Katherine, it stirs me just to talk of it to you. I want so to feel your hands on me. Your mouth.”
He turned her face up and tenderly his mouth covered hers; her lips were soft and yielding and for a moment she responded, pressing her mouth against his. A shudder shook him and he crushed her to him. Her tongue crept into his mouth and a moan escaped him as she softly explored his mouth. Suddenly she tore away and averted her face.
“No, please.”
“Damnation, Katherine, don’t tease me!” His voice sounded tortured.
She looked at him, realizing that she could excite him, even with her inexperienced responses. She could arouse him, heighten his desire. A strange, heady sense of power swept over her—she could exercise some control over him, arouse him against his will if she wanted to. Desperately she longed to try oat her power over him, to caress him, let her hands wander over him and see his face light with desire and hear his breath become harder, quicker.
Exerting her will power, she pulled away from him. “No, I can’t. It’s wrong.”
“Katherine, do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was close to tears. “I didn’t mean to. Oh, please, please, I just can’t.”
“All right. I haven’t the energy to fight you tonight. Come back here; I won’t do anything. I just want to hold you, talk to you.”
His voice went on, quiet and impersonal, but she scarcely heard him, so aware was she of his body against hers and her aching desire to touch him. It was a long time before she was able to sleep that night.
The next morning Hampton insisted on dressing and moving about the cabin some. In the afternoon he took a stroll around the deck, one arm around Katherine for support. He ate heartily and soon began to recover his strength. By the day after, he was spending hours on deck, and in another day or two seemed fully recovered.
The ship steadily approached England, and Katherine anxiously awaited their arrival. He did not try to make love to her again, but she found that she wanted him to. Lying beside him at night became more and more difficult; she was constantly aware of his hard, masculine body and his lean, strong hands. If they didn’t reach London soon, she would give in, she knew.
ENGLAND
Chapter 11
“Well, my dear, we’re almost there,” Hampton said casually one day as they sat down to lunch.
“What?” Katherine gasped.
“We should reach Liverpool this afternoon.”
“Liverpool? I thought we were going to London.”
“Yes. I am going there by train when we dock. But I shall sell and buy my goods in Liverpool. You may come with me to London if you wish.”
“I—I guess that would be the thing for me to do. Go to the American embassy there,” she said uncertainly.
“What makes you think you will be going to the American embassy?”
“Well, surely you intend to release me when we reach England. You can’t seriously expect to continue holding me prisoner.”
“Why not?”
She stared at him in astonishment. “But—I mean a ship is one thing, but how can you keep me a prisoner in the middle of a crowded country? Believe me, I don’t intend not to make a fuss.”
“Very simple. If you want to get off the ship, all you have to do is promise me, give me your word that you won’t attempt to escape. I’ll trust you to keep your word. Otherwise, I shall leave you locked up here in the cabin and leave Peljo outside the door to guard you.”
“I shall scream until someone investigates,” she threatened.
Calmly he began to peel an orange. “Number one: I think it would be unlikely that anyone would hear you from inside this ship clear across the noisy docks. Number two: I doubt that in Liverpool anyone would pay attention if they heard you. Number three: If it becomes necessary, Peljo will have instructions to bind and gag you.”
Katherine went white with rage. “You monster! I wish I’d never lifted a finger to help you get well. God help me, I should have let you die.”
“I think it would have been more in character if you had. Care for a slice?”
“I don’t want your orange—or anything else of yours. You are the most hard-hearted, cruel, soulless devil I have ever met.”
Hampton kept his eyes steadily on the spongy orange peel in his hand. He could not bring himself to look at her blazing face. He knew that he had destroyed what little friendliness had sprung up between them during his illness. She had treated him kindly, and now he was repaying her selflessness with harshness. There was no doubt but that she would think him evil and despicable.
But he could not let her go. This morning he had decided that the right thing for him to do would be to release her. But on the heels of that thought came the searing realization that he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. No matter how irritating and exasperating and spoiled she could be, she was so increasingly desirable, so challenging, so interesting, that he knew he could not rest until he had captured her mind and spirit as well as her body. If he kept her, he was sure he could do that. After all, he had detected definite signs of weakening, hadn’t he? All he needed was enough time. It would set him back to retain her as a prisoner, but he would have time to work it out. However, if he let her go, she would pass right out of his life, and he would have lost all hope of ever winning her. He didn’t know why it was so important to have this woman more than any other. In the past he had gone quite easily from one woman to another, never regretting giving one up. He did know, however, that this one he would regret bitterly, and that no matter what, he had to have her.
“Katherine, I won’t try to explain it now. You are too furious to understand—or even listen. Later I shall try to explain my actions, and I hope you will understand. But for now, please just accept it.”
“I will not accept it!”
“You must.” His voice was devoid of emotion.
Katherine stood silently glowering at him, too overcome with anger to speak. Finally he bowed slightly to her and left. After the door shut, she stormed around the room in an uncontrollable rage, crying, cursing, hurling everything she could put her hands on against the blank, uncaring door.
All her past dislike of him boiled up in her, thickening and bubbling like cooking candy. She despised him. He was a totally inhuman, evil man, with no grain of sympathy for the girl he had mistreated, no regret for what he had done, and no gratitude for the fact that she had nursed him so tenderly. Eventually she worked out her fury and was calm enough to sit down and think.
Though it was frustrating to be denied the freedom she was depending on, realistically her situation was at least far better than before. If she could manage to escape now there would be someplace to go, whereas before there had been nothing but boundless ocean all around. For a while she contemplated promising not to run away and going with him to London and then breaking the promise. But he would probably watch her so closely that he would be able to catch her before she reached the embassy, and then there was no telling what he would do. No, it was better to stay here and hope for a chance to escape.
There was a tap at the door and a voice said, “Miss Devereaux?”
Katherine leaped from the bed. Dr. Rackingham! How could she have forgotten about him? He would help her. She raced to the door, but could not open it; Hampton had locked it. “Dr. Rackingham, the door is locked. Can you hear me?”
“Yes. Why is the door locked?”
“Oh, Doctor, you have to help me. He is not going to release me when we get to England; he told me so at lunch.”
“Well, I shall have a talk with that young man.”
“Oh, no, please don’t. He won’t listen to you, and I’m afraid he might harm you to keep you from helping me. I think you ought to just leave the ship, and when you get off, get the police and come back. They won’t engage in combat with the English
, surely.”
“All right, Katherine. Don’t worry—we will rescue you. I will leave now, before someone sees me here talking to you. Stay calm.”
“I will,” Katherine said, triumph surging through her. She snapped her fingers at the room as if he stood there—that would show him, all right. She would outwit him, after all. She laughed with delight and threw herself onto the bed, where she lay back and happily contemplated her victory over him.
The doctor was not quite as cheerful. He realized that it would not be as simple as Katherine thought. He did not think the English police would be too eager to board the ship of one nation to recover a citizen of a second nation that was at war with the first. Or would it be a matter for the military? Certainly the Americans would not be allowed to board it in a neutral port. It had all the makings of an international incident, especially with two such hotheads as Hampton and Miss Devereaux involved. He imagined the British would enjoy having it dropped in their lap about as much as if it were a hot potato.
He decided to approach the captain first and feel out the situation. Perhaps it was not as bad as the young lady had painted it. He went to search out Hampton and found him near the bow of the ship.
“Well, Captain,” he said cheerfully. “Almost there, eh?”
“Yes. We should dock late this afternoon.”
“Good. Good. I shall be more than happy to escort Miss Devereaux to London.”
“Oh? That is very kind of you, but it won’t be necessary.”
“Ah, then you are escorting her yourself?”
“No one is escorting her; she’s not going to London.”
“Indeed? Why not? You can’t be planning to force her to remain here!”
“But of course not,” Hampton replied coolly. “She has decided not to leave.”
“She has?”
“Women do change their minds, you know, even ones like Katherine. I think she has realized how little she has to return to.”
“Oh, I see.” Rackingham fell silent. To confront his lie, Rackingham would have to reveal that he knew the truth. Katherine was probably right; if he was capable of kidnapping and ravishing her, the doctor doubted that he would hesitate to incapacitate one old man in order to save himself. And it would do Katherine no good at all if he was out of operation. The best thing to do was to pretend to believe the captain’s story and execute Katherine’s plan. So he said, “Well, then, I guess that I will leave the vessel by myself. You have been a most considerate host, even though rather forced on me. I shall look forward to meeting you at some future time, when we are no longer at war.”
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