Sea of Desire

by Christine Dorsey

  A dandy. No doubt about it. And a rather conceited one, if Jared could tell from the way the gentleman arched his bewigged head and looked down his large nose. He was older than Merideth by at least three decades, but that didn’t curb his lustful expression. Again Jared found himself fighting the urge to move forward. He relaxed, crossing his ankles and leaning against the silk-covered wall. What did he care how people looked at her? She certainly didn’t seem to mind.

  Jared let his attention stray back to Lady Merideth. She was radiant. Her gown, an icy blue confection of silk and lace, shimmered when she moved. She bowed, dipping forward, and the candlelight pearled the soft skin of her shoulders and neck. Her hair, undimmed by powder, shone golden, the curls piled fashionably atop her head inviting exploration by a man’s hands.

  His hands.

  Jared tightened his fingers into fists when that thought struck him. The idea was ludicrous. Besides, if anyone was apt to sample the delights of Lady Merideth’s locks, it was more likely the partner graced by her sweet smile.

  “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

  Jared jerked around at the sound of Franklin’s voice. When had he escaped the bevy of ladies paying him homage? And why in the hell had Jared allowed himself to simply stand there, staring at Lady Merideth? Denying it was impossible, so Jared merely shrugged. “Aye. She appears to be enjoying herself.”

  “What?” Franklin drew his attention away from another lady who smiled at the older man invitingly. “Ah yes, Merry does like to dance. She didn’t know how, you know?”

  Merry? “Nay, I didn’t know that.” She had Franklin calling her Merry. And believing she didn’t know how to dance. She was the daughter of a British peer, for God’s sake.

  “There are most likely many things you are unaware of,” Franklin said, softening the sting of his words with a smile.

  “No doubt, however—” Jared’s sentence was cut off by another woman who moved up beside Ben. Unlike the other, however, her lascivious gaze was fixed on Jared.

  “Ben, my ami,” she began in halting English. “Introduce me to your friend, s’il vous plaît.” She leaned forward enough so that Jared could see the dusky crescent of nipple above her gown.

  His mind was momentarily distracted from Merideth Banistar. After the introductions were exchanged, Madame de Beaumarchais appeared faint from the wonder of meeting an actual privateer, and a heroic one at that. Jared thought Franklin had embellished his accomplishments a bit, but he didn’t object when Madame said she needed a breath of air.

  The curved balconies looked out over gardens and fountains lit by hundreds of lanterns. The heady scent of flowers drifted up as Madame de Beaumarchais leaned into his arm. Invitation was written clearly in her brown eyes. Jared dipped his head and her rouged lips parted.

  It had been some time since he’d kissed a woman. Not since Lady Merideth. He found himself thinking of the last time he’d touched the Englishwoman as his lips met those of Madame de Beaumarchais. She was an accomplished kisser, using her tongue and teeth to advantage, pressing her breasts to Jared’s chest.

  He should have been aroused, powerfully so, but the experience left him feeling empty. He didn’t want to be out here. The dance was over; Jared could hear the fading strains of violins through the closed door behind him.

  With an effort, for one of her arms was now tightly clamped around his neck while the other roamed down the front of his body, Jared set her aside. Her expression of shock matched his own disbelief. Was he losing his mind? Turning aside a beautiful willing woman was not something he usually did. And Madame de Beaumarchais was beautiful, though not as much to his liking as others... one other.

  When he suggested they return to the ballroom, Madame’s smile grew chilly. She turned on her heels and preceded him through the door, never looking back as she swept into the crowd.

  Across the room, Franklin pointed and said, “Ah, there he is now.”

  “Who?” Merideth followed the arc of Dr. Franklin’s hand in time to see two people enter the ballroom. Her breathing stopped. “Captain Blackstone,” she whispered.

  Dr. Franklin chatted on to her about how the American privateer had arrived while she was dancing, but Merideth paid little heed. She watched the two across the dance floor.

  By the Frenchwoman’s demeanor it wasn’t difficult to deduce what had happened. Merideth had been forced to turn down several amorous men since she’d been in France. The surprising thing was that Madame had refused the captain’s advances. She was known for her amours, and she certainly must find the American captain attractive... anyone would. But at least Madame de Beaumarchais had the good sense to rebuke him—something Merideth hadn’t been able to do. In the past. But from now on it would be different.

  Merideth forced herself to remember that as he strode toward them, dark and powerful amid the brilliantly clad revelers. He was compellingly handsome. The shifting of flirting eyes following in his wake told Merideth she wasn’t the only one to think so. Even if Madame de Beaumarchais had refused his advances, there seemed to be several ladies willing—nay, eager, judging by the manner of their preening as he walked past them—to take her place.

  But his attention was riveted on her. Even when the captain reached them, he barely glanced toward Dr. Franklin.

  “What are you doing here?” She hadn’t meant to blurt out the question, but it was what she wanted to know. Merideth wasn’t sure why his presence was so unsettling. She had thought herself rid of him. Had worked on forgetting him, only to look up and see him standing across the room.

  Gone was the coy flirt. Blue eyes, which had previously danced with laughter, now shone cold. Her mouth was a tight line. No quick smiles for him. His own expression was derisive. “One might ask the same of you, Merry,” he said, watching her chin rise at his use of her pet name. If Franklin and half of France could use it, then dammit, so could he.

  “I’m a guest of Madame d’Abbeville.”

  “As it happens, so am I.”

  “I gathered as much. My question is, why have you returned to Passy?” It was disconcerting.

  “I summoned Captain Blackstone, dear.”

  “Why?” Merideth turned on Dr. Franklin. “No, please.” Merideth held up her hand. “I apologize for questioning you. It is none of my concern.”

  “But it is mine. Why did you have me come here?” Jared had certainly assumed there was some emergency when he received the letter. But Franklin seemed unconcerned about anything but enjoying himself with his friends. His next words confirmed Jared’s conclusion. Instead of answering Jared’s inquiry, the older man suggested Jared partner Lady Merideth in the next round.

  “I’m afraid my old foe, Sir Gout, forces me to sit and watch or I would do it myself,” Franklin said.

  “I really am too fatigued to dance.” Opening her fan with a flourish, Merideth swiped it through the perfume-laden air.

  “I’m quite sure Lady Merideth has her pick of partners should she change her mind,” Jared said, causing Ben to chuckle.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Franklin agreed. “But come now, children.” He took them each by the arm, leading them through the throng of people, toward the dancers. “Certainly you won’t deny an old man’s wish.”

  When he paused there didn’t seem to be anything for Jared to do but offer his arm. She took it, albeit reluctantly, and they joined the procession for L’Escapade.

  They circled to the left four counts, then back again, the tall, dark man and his golden partner. When they met in the middle, Jared arched his brow.

  “For a novice you dance very well.”

  Merideth ignored the sarcasm-drenched comment, twisting away from him as soon as the music allowed. When they came together again it was Merideth who broke the silence. “Why did Dr. Franklin summon you here?”

  “I haven’t a clue.” He watched her brow wrinkle in concentration. “Perhaps it has something to do with you.”

  “That hardly seems likely.”
<
br />   They moved on, bowing to the next couple in line, allemanding right. It was several minutes until they sidestepped back to face each other.

  “Why would you think Dr. Franklin brought you here on my account?”

  Jared shrugged. His gaze traveled down over her gown. “The expense of keeping you?”

  “The gown is borrowed.”

  The dance brought them closer. “Perhaps he resents your using his hospitality as a means of gathering state secrets.”

  His words were low, spoken in an intimate, sensual tone, and for a moment Merideth didn’t comprehend his meaning. The instant she did, she stopped, causing the lady to her right to bump into her. Without a word Merideth turned and walked from the dance floor.

  “Insufferably rude man,” Merideth mumbled to herself as she made her way through the crowd. When she spotted Dr. Franklin, she tried to replace her scowl with a smile. His first words to her showed she hadn’t succeeded.

  “Are you well, my dear?”

  “No, actually, I’ve a terrible headache. Would you mind terribly if I returned to my room at the estate? I’d send the carriage back for you.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I can see how much you’re enjoying yourself, and I also know that you’ve planned a meeting with Monsieur Gerald later to discuss politics.”

  “I don’t feel right letting you go alone.”

  “Because of what happened in Paris?”

  “ ‘Twas an accident. You said you were sure.”

  “Yes. Yes, I was sure,” Merideth said. “I am sure.” What else could it have been? It had simply been so frightening to look up and see a team of horses bearing down on her. To see the face of the woman driving the coach. She’d obviously lost control, and Merideth had panicked, nearly freezing in their path. If not for Dr. Franklin’s frantic yelling, she would have been killed. As it was, she’d barely made it out of the horses’ path before they bore down on the spot where she had stood. The coach sped by. No one recognized the woman or the livery.

  It had been a freak accident. But ever since that day, Dr. Franklin had kept a close eye on her.

  “The accident is not why you...?”

  “What?” Franklin lifted his brow.

  “Never mind. ‘Tis silly.” She had almost asked if Captain Blackstone had returned to watch out for her. But that was ridiculous. He was the man accused of killing her father. She sighed. “At any rate, I really do wish to return to the house. And please.” She clasped his hand in hers. “Don’t trouble yourself. I shall be fine.”

  Allowing him no time to protest, Merideth turned and swept through the crowd of people.

  Jared watched her go and hesitated only a moment before approaching Franklin. He’d been riding for hours, was tired and in no mood to remain at this soiree. In no mood to remain in Passy, for that matter. Franklin’s message had implied the need for haste. Jared had complied, only to be repeatedly put off and dragged to a ball.

  And shown the error of his ways for having brought Merideth Banistar to Passy. She’d obviously made out quite nicely. Society seemed to adore her. Ben Franklin sang her praises. And no one even suspected that she committed treason in exchange for coin.

  “Ah, there you are, my boy.” Ben hailed Jared closer when he noticed him approach.

  “Dr. Franklin,” Jared began. “I shall wait on you in the morning, but, for now, I must take my leave.”

  “Of course you must.” Franklin’s voice had the edge of panic. “She’s off by herself.”

  “Who?”

  “Merry.”

  The tone of that one word seemed to imply that Jared should know what Dr. Franklin was talking about—which he assuredly did not. “I’m sure Lady Merideth is fine.”

  “No, no, you don’t understand. It’s not safe for her. I’ve tried not to alarm her, but she mustn’t be alone. Please, go after her. She took the carriage.”

  Jared still didn’t understand, but, for whatever reason, Franklin was concerned. Nay, more than concerned—deeply worried. He gave Jared’s arm a push. “Go,” was all he said.

  Turning on his heel, Jared headed for the ballroom doorway. As he moved, the tension inside him built, so that by the time Jared reached the spiral staircase he was nearly running. He took the stairs quickly, offhandedly excusing himself when he pushed past a group of perfumed dandies taking the stairs at their own leisurely pace.

  The night air felt cool and inviting as Jared burst through the door, startling the servant standing off to the side on the giant portico. “Lady Merideth Banistar. Have you seen her?” Jared asked as he scanned the curved drive.

  The man merely shook his head, filtering fine powder over his jacket.

  “A mademoiselle. Beautiful. Did she—” Jared’s eyes snagged on a coach just passing through the stone gates at the foot of the drive. Without another word he took off at a run. His boots kicked up gravel as he sped after the coach. It was perhaps twenty-five rods away, but slowed to turn the corner onto the main road. Jared caught up with the conveyance, just as it picked up speed.

  Grabbing onto the window, he swung himself up, pulling open the door and throwing himself inside. He landed with a thud on the leather seat and was immediately pummeled about the face. Lifting his forearms, Jared warded off Merideth’s blows. He pushed her back onto the opposite seat, covering her mouth when she tried to scream.

  “Be still. It’s me.”

  It was dark in the carriage. She hadn’t lit the lamp, but apparently she recognized his voice, because he felt her body relax once he spoke. But the next moment she tensed, clawing at his hand with her fingers. His body covered hers, but he tentatively loosened his grip on her mouth.

  “What are you doing?” she sputtered. “Have you... have you lost your mind?” Her breath came in ragged gulps. She had been so frightened her voice still quivered. And she wasn’t certain she shouldn’t be frightened yet.

  “Perhaps.” Jared too was short of breath from his run, and lying as he was on top of her wasn’t helping. He shifted, bringing his mouth on a level with hers. “As to what I want, I imagine it is the same thing most of the male population of Passy wants.”

  “Get off me, you uncouth barbarian!”

  “Ay, the lady prefers seduction by perfumed dandies with powdered wigs and beauty patches. Or is it simply that men such as that have secrets they are willing to share for a taste of your delightful—”

  Whack!

  The slap was hard and unexpected and it caught Jared square on his cheek, burning his flesh and causing him to grab her hands. He pulled them above her head. His face was close to hers and he could make out her large eyes, luminous in the dim light, and her lips, open and inviting.

  His breath fanned her face and she waited, the tension near unbearable. He was angry, angry as she. There was no denying that. But there was something else, something primal and erotic that bound them as tightly as the anger. Merideth could feel the promise of passion racing through her body. She tried to fight it, but the moment his lips touched hers it flared, and she could do naught to stem the feelings that engulfed her.

  Hard and aggressive, his mouth ravaged hers. And she met him with equal desire and fervor. When he let loose her hands she used them to clutch at his shoulders, so broad and firm beneath the fine broadcloth. His mouth tore along her jaw, nipping and wetting, then returned to her mouth. She met the thrust of his tongue with her own... intimate interplay that made their blood boil.

  His whiskers abraded her soft skin, but she cared not. He forged a trail under her chin, down the slender column of her throat, and she writhed beneath him. With a swipe of his hand her cape was gone, and his mouth feasted upon the flesh of her chest. He followed the border of low-cut lace, then nudged lower, biting the tip of her straining nipple through the heated silk.

  Merideth arched, grabbing handfuls of his raven hair, pulling him closer. His body was hard, burning into hers through the layers of ruffles and lace. And Mer
ideth moaned. The ache for him was nigh unbearable. Her legs spread in the tangle of petticoats, but that didn’t assuage the gnawing hunger. She didn’t know what would, until his hand grasped her.

  There was no gentle exploration of her thighs or the curve of her hip. His fingers delved straight for the moist heated core of her passion. And oh, the splendor of it!

  He prodded, touching, and like a flame to powder she exploded. Her body bucked, shivering and trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes drifted shut and her mouth went slack, till his covered it, consuming her with a kiss full of carnal delights.

  She soared, then slowly, sensually floated back to earth. She was spent, emotionally and physically. Her lashes lifted and in the darkness she saw the flash of white teeth... his grin. She couldn’t help responding in kind.

  “You are full of surprises, Lady Merideth.”

  “I... I don’t understand. What happened?”

  “Only a prelude,” Jared assured, then lowered his mouth again for a probing kiss that proved him right. She longed for more. He longed for the feel of her heat surrounding him.

  The sound of the shot caught them both off guard. “What was that?”

  Jared jerked up, then pushed her onto the floor. She landed in a pile of lace and petticoats. The coach slowed, then rolled to a stop. Jared could hear voices outside. The driver, and someone else. A coarse, ill-bred voice that yelled for the driver to get off the box.

  Cursing the fact that he had left his pistols at the Hôtel de Valentinois, Jared lifted the flap and peered out. By the light of the lanterns mounted on the side of the carriage, Jared could see that the road was surrounded by forest... the perfect place for a highwayman.

  “What is it? Who’s out there?”

  Jared hushed Merideth, pushing her back when she tried to climb up to see for herself.

  “Come on out with ye, yer ladyship. I know yer in there.”

  The burly man who spoke stood close to the coach, his pistol trained at the door. Jared couldn’t see any sign of the driver. Or of the highwayman’s horse.