Catalina's Caress

by Sylvie F. Sommerfield

In a few minutes Charlotte appeared in the doorway. She was a woman who commanded respect no matter where she was, and Marc could feel the magnetism of her presence when she stepped through the door.

  He rose from his chair and walked to her side.

  "Good morning, Mrs. McNeil. To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning visit?"

  Charlotte eyed Marc speculatively, a half-smile on her lips and a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. She had been touched by a faint wisp of memory, yet she could not grasp it. He seemed familiar, and she wondered if she could have seen such a dashingly handsome young man and forgotten him. It was very unlikely for since the age of sixteen Charlotte had had an eye for handsome young men... and she never forgot them as they never forgot her.

  "It is Miss McNeil, Mr. Copeland... by choice not by chance."

  "Miss McNeil. Have we met before?"

  "I don't believe we have."

  "Then I don't understand why you want to speak to me."

  "I am Catalina Carrington's aunt," Charlotte said, watching his face closely. She saw recognition leap into his eyes, and despite his effort at control Charlotte saw much much more.

  "Ah," Marc said softly, "the lovely Catalina. And how is my lady now?" Marc would have loved to know just how much Charlotte knew about last night. Had Catalina run to her aunt in tears to accuse him?

  "I don't believe"—Charlotte chuckled—"that Catalina is in any way your lady, Mr. Copeland. In fact, I do believe she is most upset with you. Why did you not tell her last night where her brother had gone?"

  "Because I didn't know. I told her that, but I think the lady chose not to believe me. Won't you come in and sit down? I was about to have breakfast. Would you like something?"

  "Some tea please."

  "Of course." Marc went to the door and snapped out an order. Then he returned to sit opposite Charlotte. But before he could speak again the door opened and China entered.

  If Charlotte was surprised by her presence, only a slight widening of her eyes betrayed it. She found China exceedingly beautiful, but she wondered about the nature of her connection to Marc Copeland.

  "China"—Charlotte could hear the gentleness in Marc's voice—"come and have breakfast with us. My guest is Miss Charlotte McNeil. She"—he said calmly—"is the aunt of Catalina Carrington."

  "Good morning, Miss McNeil," China said softly.

  "Good morning," Charlotte answered.

  China sat close to Charlotte, who could smell the delicate scent of her perfume.

  "Now, Miss McNeil," Marc said, "I doubt if you came here to share breakfast. You have something to say to me?"

  "You are quite certain we have not met, Mr. Copeland? Your face is so very familiar."

  Did she see one moment of shock, one spark of fear in his eyes for that breathless second?

  "No .. . as far as I know," Marc responded honestly, "we have never met."

  "Oh, well," Charlotte said briskly, "I will remember. My memory is quite good. Maybe I knew someone who looked like you. Though"—she laughed softly— "there are not many men as handsome."

  "Thank you." Marc chuckled. If Charlotte were not one of the enemy he had a feeling they might have become friends.

  "Mr. Copeland..."

  "Marc." Marc grinned.

  "Marc," Charlotte repeated. "I will come to the point. I have only two questions. What has become of my nephew Seth? And what happened between you and my niece last night?"

  "What has she told you?" Marc questioned carefully.

  "Nothing, which is why I suspect a great deal happened."

  "It's of no importance whether you or she believe me or not. But her brother was not on this boat last night, and I have not seen him since the card game in which I won the boat."

  "And last night?" Charlotte asked quietly.

  "As your niece said," Marc replied, "nothing happened. She wanted her brother, he was not here ... she left"

  "That easily?"

  "That easily."

  Charlotte laughed softly and Marc chuckled.

  "Obviously you do not know my niece very well."

  "No. Actually last night was only the third time our paths crossed."

  "I see."

  "What do you see?"

  "That my niece might be correct about you."

  "Oh, in what way?"

  "That you are a very unscrupulous young man. Tell me, Marc Copeland ... is that your real name .. . and what is it you want from my family?"

  Marc shrugged. "That," he said softly, "is not between you and me but between me and Catalina."

  Charlotte rose, her smile intact and her voice unruffled and cool.

  "We shall see what you are about, Mr. Copeland. We shall see." She swept from the room with the regal bearing of an empress.

  When the door closed behind her, Marc whistled softly. "That is a formidable lady. It's like having an audience with the queen of England. I had a feeling she was looking right through me."

  "I agree," China said. "Marc, I wonder why she expected to find her nephew here. Have you really not seen him?"

  "Not since the game. I don't understand that either."

  "And the girl?" China said softly.

  "She was here."

  "Last night?" China questioned. She was at first surprised, then amused that she was witnessing the first time in their relationship that Marc refused to meet her eyes.

  "Yes, last night She tried to shoot me."

  "I heard nothing."

  "The gun was never fired." He reached into a drawer in a small table nearby, took out the gun, and placed it on the table.

  "So she just changed her mind about shooting you?"

  "No," Marc said reluctantly. "I changed it for her."

  "I see," China spoke very softly.

  "No you don't, China." He shook his head negatively. "And don't go jumping to any conclusions. She tried to kill me, I took the gun from her ... and sent her on her way. It changes nothing . .. nothing at all."

  "I see."

  "China, quit saying I see like you're looking into a crystal ball."

  China laughed. But her astute gaze had read much more in Marc than he wanted to reveal.

  "What do you plan now?"

  To go on with the work on the boat I want her ready as soon as possible. It's time we slapped the Carringtons on the other cheek."

  "All right"

  "And," Marc said quietly, "send a few men out to scout around the city. I've got a strong suspicion we'd better find out just what did happen to Seth Carrington. If he's not with his family and he's not here, then I'd like to know just where the hell he is."

  "You worried about him for his sister's sake?"

  "No. I told you China, they're all going to pay their own price so I don't want him slipping through my fingers." He added quickly, "Dont say I see."

  "I'll go and tell the men to start a discreet search," she responded.

  "Good gir1."

  "When do you want the boat to be ready to leave?"

  "By late tonight If Seth Carrington is in the city find him, but I want everything else on the move."

  "By the time the sun sets we'll be leaving," China declared. "Is there anything else?"

  "No."

  "Marc?"

  "What?"

  "I ran across Nina and Charlene chatting together in a very friendly manner on my way here."

  "So?"

  "For a man who thinks he understands women so well you don't see anything odd about two women who dislike and distrust each other as much as those two suddenly becoming so friendly?"

  "I don't see what their friendship, or the lack of it has to do with anything."

  "You've put Nina out of your bed?" she asked quickly.

  "For Christ's sake, China! What do my sleeping arrangements have to do with this?" His anger was rising. "Aren't you nosing just a little too deep?"

  "Marc, Nina can be dangerous, and Charlene even more so. Charlene is ambitious, and as for Nina ... a spurned woman can be
more than dangerous. Nina doesn't know all the facts, but she's clever and not beyond seeking revenge. She's in love with you, Marc. Be careful."

  "I'll keep your warning in mind." Marc smiled. "China, you worry about me like a mother hen with only one chick. I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself."

  "You are so set on one goal sometimes you do not see all that you should I have only suggested you keep an eye on Nina. If she is no longer welcome in your bed, why do you not rid yourself of her?"

  Marc made a soft sound of irritation. "China, Nina is not your problem. Suppose we get busy with more important things."

  China nodded, bowed slightly from the waist, and turned to leave.

  "China," Marc said softly. She turned back to look at him and he added, "I'll keep your words in mind, and thanks for worrying about me."

  China smiled, then left, and Marc slowly sat down in his chair.

  He hadn't thought of Nina for days. Maybe he should listen to China, he thought, but he needed someone now, someone to help him erase the soft scent and the warm lips of the elusive Catalina Carrington.

  One way or another he would wipe Catalina from his senses, he would drown his thoughts of her in the arms of other women. No matter what his senses told him he knew that for him Catalina Carrington was the most dangerous woman of all.

  ❧

  Charlotte made several stops on her way to her planned visit with Charles Dante, stops to see remarkable people who would not, in the minds of her society friends, be persons the illustrious Charlotte McNeil would know.

  All these stops were made for the same purpose. Slowly she spread a web across the city, created a network to find out who Marc Copeland really was. For in the back of her mind she was sure she bad seen or known him. Ordinarily blessed with a good memory, she was annoyed that she could not put his face and a name together.

  It was well after one in the afternoon when she again called on Charles, who welcomed her with warm enthusiasm.

  "Charlotte my dear, two visits in just days. Could I hope that you have developed a fondness for my company?"

  "I have always been fond of you, you scoundrel." Charlotte laughed.

  "Then have dinner with me tonight."

  "I might consider doing that if you can provide me with my answers."

  "It's too soon for me to have found out anything. This Marc Copeland seems to have something to hide. His past just vanishes. He's a very elusive character."

  "I thought he might be."

  "Have you had lunch yet, Charlotte?"

  "No, I haven't."

  "Then share my lonely lunch with me."

  "I'd be delighted."

  Charlotte accompanied Charles to one of New Orleans most elegant restaurants, where they were greeted graciously. Seeing two such eminent citizens together sent a ripple of excitement through the other luncheon guests.

  After they were seated and Charlotte had endured all she could stand of the nearly overwhelming maitre d' they ordered and exchanged superficial conversation until the food was brought and they felt they enjoyed some semblance of privacy.

  "Now, Charles, suppose you tell me what you have found so far."

  "I told you, Charlotte, most of the people I have looking into his background have not yet brought me any information. The others have learned little more than what we already know."

  "Which is?"

  "He has a signed deed to the Belle. He has deposited a great deal of money in the bank, and he plans to turn the Belle into one of the most elaborate gambling casinos on the river. He has even acquired all the .. . ah . .. luxuries any man could ever expect to find."

  "The word is whores, Charles ... whores. And you mean he's hired a few beautiful and well-accomplished whores to ply their trade aboard the Belle," Charlotte said in well-controlled rage. "The Belle, one of the most beautiful and well-known boats on the river!"

  "Well at least you're blunt." Charles smiled. He was never surprised at what he heard from Charlotte's mouth. She is the only lady, he thought, in high New Orleans society who bluntly calls a whore a whore.

  "He has a purpose, Charles. I know it, I can feel it. He is unscrupulous, and I've a feeling his purpose is directed at one goal. I want to know what that goal is before any more harm befalls my family."

  "Maybe, Charlotte," Charles said gently, "if you were to trust me more and tell me all that has happened, I might be able to get some answers sooner. Don't you think it's time you laid all your cards on the table?"

  Charlotte held his eyes with an intense look, and Charles had the very uncomfortable feeling she was reading his soul. But he knew if he did not return her steady gaze he would never get another word of explanation from her.

  "All right," she said quietly. "I'll tell you all I know for certain... and what I suspect."

  Charles breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed she had allowed him to take a step closer to her.

  In a dignified and quiet voice Charlotte explained all that had occurred. Charles did not interrupt until she was completely finished.

  "Charlotte, I want you to know I am honored by your confidence. No word of what you have said to me shall pass my lips. I will do everything, move every mountain, to find out just who this man is and what devious plot he has in mind. In the meantime I would like you to get Catalina to stay as far away from him as she can."

  "One does not tell Cat what she can or cannot do. She rises to a challenge like a gladiator. I'm afraid my words of warning will only serve to make her angrier."

  "She can be angry so long as she stays out of his reach until we can find some answers and some proof."

  "She went to see him last night."

  "How foolish!"

  "I couldn't stop her. I have no idea what time she came home. I fell asleep on the settee in front of the fireplace and she must have thought I was in bed. After a while I woke and heard her in the kitchen. We shared a few confidences over a cup of tea, but I know no more about her visit to Marc Copeland last night than I knew yesterday. She was still asleep when I left this morning."

  "Find out what happened if you can, but for God's sake keep her at home. I have a feeling this man doesn't possess a sense of honor."

  "I will most certainly do my best, Charles."

  "Good. Now that that is settled, where would you like to have dinner tonight, and what time should I call for you?"

  The balance of their lunch was relaxed and filled with laughter. When Charles waved goodbye and watched her carriage roll away he was more than pleased.

  Charlotte arrived home only to find that Catalina had gone out to have lunch with Travis. She waited patiently, but Catalina did not return before it was time for Charlotte to dress for her dinner engagement with Charles.

  Oh, well. She is with Travis now, so Marc Copeland is not involved, Charlotte thought. I shall speak with her when I return.

  She went to join Charles, not knowing that it would be a very long time before she saw Catalina again and that their lives would have changed drastically before she did.

  Chapter 8

  Travis sat across the table from Catalina in a small but excellent restaurant. He had had to coax her into lunching with him because she had been caught up in worry over Seth's sudden disappearance and even over her aunt's absence.

  "It will do you good to get out of this house for an hour or two, Cat."

  "But Aunt Charlotte—"

  "Is probably having a good lunch with a friend."

  "All right," she agreed.

  Now, as they sat opposite each other, questions bubbled from Catalina. It seemed that she felt if she could voice her worries, she could find answers to them.

  "Where could he have gone, Travis? He left our house with one destination in mind. I can't believe that he never got there."

  "Most likely he did, and Marc Copeland is lying to you for some reason."

  "But why? Why?"

  "I don't know. I have some men out searching the city. If he's in it, we'll find him."
<
br />   "God, Travis, he might be hurt somewhere. He might need us desperately."

  "Cat, don't get so upset. I'll find him for you."

  He reached across the table and took her trembling hand in his.

  "There's a lot of other news I have to tell you."

  "What?" she said. Her brow furrowed as if she knew what he was going to say was something she didn't want to hear.

  "It's about Marc Copeland and the Belle."

  "What more can he do? The boat is his."

  "He's turned it into a gambler's heaven and plans to go up and down the river with it. He has made a point of not changing her name. That means he's deliberately making her a scandal to strike out at the Carringtons."

  "He is an atrocious man. If my father hears of this he will be shamed. It will make any redemption for Seth impossible."

  "I want you to consider something, Cat."

  "What?"

  "It might be dangerous and I wouldn't blame you if you refused."

  "What is it? I'll do whatever is necessary."

  "He's taking the Belle out late tonight."

  "We can't stop him."

  "No ... but I think we should be passengers on her when she leaves."

  "That's impossible!"

  "Think about this, Cat. If Seth is nowhere in the city, he might just be aboard the Belle."

  "Why?"

  "So he could be gotten away from here and disposed of in a safer place. Or Copeland might be wanting more from the Carringtons and Seth might be his hold on your family."

  "What else could he want?"

  "Ransom," Travis said bluntly. "Your father might be angry, but what would he—or you or your aunt— pay to get Seth back?"

  "Anything," she whispered, her eyes widening with the realization.

  "I think it would be clever on our part—and it would spoil any plans he might have—if we were passengers on the Belle when it left."

  "He would never let us aboard."

  "I will have someone else book our staterooms. We will arrive at the last minute. Outside of admitting his reasons he can't stop us."

  "I... I don't know," she began hesitantly.

  "Think of it, Cat. We will watch carefully. If Seth is aboard, we will find him."

  "I would like to talk to Aunt Charlotte."