Jake gazed at her grandfather for several moments. Then she stood and turned to face Charlotte.
"Aunt Charlotte," she said softly, "you can go back home alone. I won't be returning with you. Tell Seth when he comes back that he can find me here if he wants to talk to me."
"Now just a darn minute, girl!" Ben rose abruptly to his feet. "You can't do that. This is the chance of your life. You can't throw it aside!"
"Grandpa," Jake said softly, "you're my family. You've given me all the love I've ever known. Do you want me to be the kind of person who would give up those who had loved and cared for her just to have pretty clothes and sweet-smelling perfume? Well, I won't. I love you, Grandpa, and if you won't be a part of my life up there, then I won't be there. There is no choice when it comes to you or being a lady."
Ben's eyes glowed and they were suspiciously moist. He reached out and drew Jake into his arms.
"All right, girl," he choked out. "If you want to invite me again ... well I guess I'll come."
"Come soon, Grandpa, please, I want to show you so much. I can read, Grandpa ... well almost. I get stuck on some big words, but I'm pretty good. And I'm learning to ride a horse! Oh, come soon, Grandpa!"
"I will, child. I will."
"I extend an invitation to come and see us at any time you choose, Mr. Barde." Charlotte smiled.
"The name is Ben, Miss McNeil." He chuckled. "I guess if I'm going to be around some, you might just call me by my name."
Charlotte rose from her chair, a warm smile lighting her eyes. "Then you must also call me Charlotte, for I do believe we are going to be good friends."
"I wouldn't doubt it Seems my girl wouldn't have it any other way."
They all laughed, and then they spent the balance of the afternoon talking of both the past and the future.
The words Charlotte had spoken when they had left resounded in Jake's ears as she dressed for the afternoon party to which Ben had been invited.
My dear Jake, there is nothing more in this world that I or anyone eke can teach you. What you did today has proven to me that Seth was right about you from the beginning. You are a lady, and at this moment J couldn't be prouder of you if you were my own child. Come, Jake, let's go home.
Now Jake gazed at herself in the mirror and then drew herself erect, feeling a pride she had never known before.
"Seth," she whispered softly. He was the only person she wanted to look at her. It was his approval she needed to make her world complete. To Jake, Seth was a knight in armor who had rescued her and taken her to his castle to live like the princesses in the fairy tales Charlotte had let her read.
Jake knew nothing of love. She just wanted Seth to know he had chosen well and had not made a mistake.
Chapter 29
Catalina stirred and wakened very early. The sun had not risen so the room was filled with dark shadows and vague light. But the birds had begun to sing an early medley, and a soft breeze rustled the curtains at the window, bringing a fresh scent into the room.
She lay very still as she savored the sense of security she felt at being encircled by Marc's strong arm. Her head lay against his shoulder, and she could hear the steady solid beat of his heart.
She wanted to hold back time, to keep the day from coming. She wanted to enjoy this contented peace for just a while longer. Her arm crept around him and she drew closer to his warmth.
She would give everything just to hear him tell her that he loved her, to know that he wanted to change their situation from its temporary status to a permanent one. But she feared that would not be. She had agreed to be his mistress, and she now wondered if it would not end there. He might return the Belle to her and walk away ... but if he did he would take more of her with him than he would ever know.
The game would begin again when he awoke, but for now she could dream and hope that the night they had just shared had proved to him that they shared something that was bigger than all their battles.
Catalina had no way of knowing that Marc had wakened long before she had, and was fighting a battle of which she was completely unaware. Nothing seemed to be following the pattern of his well-set plans.
He searched for an explanation for the guilt he felt. He had meant to bring Catalina Carrington to her knees, to make her feel the shame he had known when people had enjoyed the Garrisons' fall from the heights.
Now was the time. He could take Catalina to a place in Natchez-under-the-hill and leave her, knowing she would experience destruction beyond belief. Why was he reluctant to even move, to break the feeling that pervaded him as her sensuous body lay curled close to his.
He could still taste the sweetness of her lips as they'd sought his with an urgency that had, at first, startled him. But her giving passion had overwhelmed and captured him. He was not yet ready to let go of the delightful pleasures she offered, he decided, totally denying that he would never be ready to let her go.
But she wanted only her precious boat—the Belle was the only hold he had on her. He gave no thought to the hold she had on him, telling himself that she was cold and devious like all the Carringtons. He had reached out to hurt them—through the Belle and the Carrington wealth.
Nonetheless, he knew the trip from Natchez to Memphis would be a delight, for she would still be his. But at the end of it, he would have to decide to fulfill his plan for her... or to give her back the Belle and let her go. He found both alternatives too difficult to think about, so he postponed making the decision. After all, the brothels in Memphis were as ugly and dirty as the ones in Natchez-under-the-hill.
Since he was caught in thought, it was some time before Marc sensed that Catalina was awake. When he did, he brushed his cheek lightly against Catalina's tousled hair and drew her closer to him, searching again for resistance he could shatter. But he found none as slim arms encircled him and soft lips brushed the flesh of his throat.
"Good morning,'' he murmured, and Catalina raised her eyes to his. Her soft mouth was curved in a half-smile, and her eyes were warm and inviting.
He bent his head to kiss her moist parted lips, leisurely and gently. The sheer pleasure of the night before seemed to blossom again at this heated renewal of contact, and again he was amazed that no matter how many times he possessed her, he still wanted her. Of course, he assured himself, by the time they reached Memphis he would have tired of her. The sensual intoxication of her passion would have dissipated and he would be capable of leaving her... of forgetting her.... But that was Memphis. Now she was here, warm and responsive.
"Marc?"
"Umm," he murmured, as his lips traced a pattern of feather-light kisses along her throat and shoulders.
"Do ... do we leave for the Belle this morning?" Her eyes were half-closed as the warmth of his body and the touch of his hands roused her senses.
"We won't leave until late tonight. We have a lot of time," he whispered, his hands becoming intent on seeking sensitive places. He stimulated her until the blood raced in her veins and all thought was pushed from her mind.
She wanted so desperately to speak of her love, to tell him that she would go with him anywhere, live whatever kind of life he chose. But she knew the danger of doing this.
He would laugh, would tell her in so many ways that she was only another conquest, that he had defeated her. No, she could not say the words, nor could she expect to hear them. But she could enjoy the amazing brilliance of their passion, hold the memory of it when he returned the Belle to her and walked out of her life.
Although logic told her the futility of her love for Marc, her body answered the call of his, and she was soon possessed by a wild and overpowering need that chained her to him with fetters of pleasure.
He kissed her until her senses swirled. His hands were caressing, gentle. Then he sought to arouse in her a heated need that matched his.
"Marc," she gasped, "it's ... it's morning."
"Making love in the daylight can be exciting." Marc chuckled. "Besides, I like to look i
nto your eyes when you lose control. Do you know your eyes change color?" he teased, enjoying the flush that tinged her cheeks. "You're an exciting woman, Cat, and our time is too short to waste," he added. Then he silenced her resistance with a searing kiss. He heard her moan softly as he drew her beneath him and entered her, moving with sure hard strokes meant to drive them both beyond thoughts of tomorrow.
❧
Lorelei had requested that breakfast be served on the terrace, for it offered bright sunshine and a breathtaking view of the river.
She sat there now, sipping tea and waiting patiently for Marc and Catalina to appear. Her mood was cheerful, for Lorelei was completely convinced that whether he knew it or not Marc was captivated by Catalina. That pleased Marc's sister immensely. She had always been against what Marc intended; she liked Catalina and couldn't place any of the responsibility for their past problems at her door.
She was almost ready to go ahead and eat, when the sound of voices made her turn to look back at the house just in time to see Marc and Catalina approaching.
How perfect they look together, Lorelei thought. She wondered if either of them realized how they looked when their eyes met, knew that they laughed as lovers do. She imagined both would vehemently deny such behavior.
"Good morning," she called.
"Good morning," Catalina responded. "What a lovely place to have breakfast. Why, you can see for miles, and what a lovely view."
"Isn't it though?" Marc responded. "I've always enjoyed it."
Lorelei noted that Catalina's smile became strained as she turned to Marc. "You've been here often?" she questioned, trying to keep her voice conversational.
Lorelei enjoyed Marc's discomfort He deserved to be caught in his web of lies. "Well, not often enough, but I've been here a time or two."
Marc was deliberately allowing Catalina to imagine what he might have done in this house, with Lorelei... or other women.
If Lorelei hadn't been certain that Catalina was in love with Marc before, she was now, and her annoyance grew. It didn't take Marc long to realize it
"Right after breakfast I'm going to take Catalina on a tour of. . . your property and the rest of the town," he said quickly. "We'll have to leave right after dinner tonight."
"So soon, Marc?" Lorelei taunted, watching the flicker of anger in his eyes.
"I'm afraid so, Lorelei."
"That's a shame," Lorelei said with deceptive regret "I had so many things to talk about with
Catalina. Maybe you'll come back on your trip downriver."
"I doubt it," Marc said stiffly, wishing he could throttle Lorelei.
"Oh, Catalina"—Lorelei fluttered and Marc glowered—"convince him to stop on the way back. Why"— she looked at Marc innocently—"I have a feeling we could be such friends... almost sisters." She smiled pleasantly.
Catalina looked from Lorelei to Marc, sensing something between the pair. Whatever it was it didn't please Marc too well, and he ate very little for breakfast, then hustled her to a carriage.
They rode slowly through upper Natchez. This part of town was obviously occupied by the rich and elegant. Its mansions were impressive. Catalina was taken by the graceful beauty of Belle Grove, a beautiful Greek revival mansion and a prime example of plantation living on a grand scale. It was framed by graceful trees, and its great green porticoes were hung with thousands of lights which shone far out over the river. Catalina listened while Marc told stories of the wondrous parties and feasts held there.
As they passed plantation after plantation—Belair Plantation followed Belle Grove—Catalina became more and more intrigued by Marc's voice. It had warm affection in it, as if he felt a great love for this area, as if he knew it as he knew no other.
Questions arose in Catalina's mind, but she knew Marc would never answer them. He kept his past shrouded in darkness. He had no intention of letting her penetrate it, and she knew that.
As they passed a particularly beautiful mansion, Cat asked about it.
"It belongs to Simon Gere," Marc said, offering no other explanation.
"Simon Gere? Do you know him well?"
"He is somewhat of a shady character. Most inhabitants of Natchez attend his parties, but no one questions his dealings. He gives elaborate affairs. Married a girl from New Orleans, and they have three sons. One is my age and the others are a little younger."
"Are they friendly with Lorelei?"
"Hardly," Marc retorted shortly. He had no intention of elaborating on the mansion of Simon Gere.
It occurred to Catalina that Marc's background must be interesting, for he seemed to have touched on all walks of life, from the depths of Natchez-under-the-hill to the heights of society in upper Natchez.
She sighed. Marc did not want her in his present or his future, and most assuredly he did not want her in his past; yet she felt it contained a puzzle she should understand. But the solid wall of his resistance forbade her entrance. How could she ever reach Marc's heart when he held it in the secret caverns of his mind, refusing to share anything with her.
She knew the key to his behavior lay somewhere in his past. That key would let her open the door between them. But Marc was careful to keep it from her.
Catalina turned to the rare beauty of upper Natchez, and they made an extensive tour of it before returning to Lorelei's home for a quiet dinner.
❧
It was late afternoon when China received a message and immediately made ready to go back into town, cautioning Shawna to remain in her cabin until she or Marc returned. Her departure was watched by a smugly smiling Travis and Charlene, who expected Marc and Catalina to return soon. They were quite pleased that China would not be present to disrupt their plans. Indeed, they had been searching for a way to temporarily rid themselves of her, but she was doing it for them.
"So, Charlene"—Travis smiled—"we can put our plan in motion as soon as Marc and Catalina appear. We're supposed to sail in about two hours, so I expect they'll come aboard at any moment.''
"Marc will be on time, and I'm sure Nina will be too," Charlene replied. "She can't wait to pay back both of them."
"Well, she should have everything her way."
"And you should have things your way, too. You'll have the girl and her money, and you'll be rid of Marc."
"And Marc will be left with some bad memories of the deceptiveness of women."
They laughed again as they watched China's carriage disappear into Natchez-under-the-hill. Neither of them gave much consideration to the message she had received or to where she was going. They were too glad to have her out of the way.
Travis watched the dock from a spot in which those arriving in carriages would not see him. Timing was of the utmost importance now, and he knew that Marc was clever enough to sense something if given a moment to react.
A carriage drew to a halt, and Marc stepped down, then turned to help Catalina. Just as Catalina stood beside him a young boy came toward them.
"Mr. Copeland?"
"Yes," Marc replied, as he turned to look down at the boy.
"I have a message from a lady."
Marc was surprised, and Catalina pressed her lips together and turned away so Marc could not see the hurt in her eyes. She could not allow him to know that his affairs with other women touched her in any way.
"Lady? What lady?"
"A Miss China, suh, she asked me to run and find you."
"Is she in trouble?" Marc was alarmed.
"No, suh. She ain't in trouble. She just said for you to come right away. She has something real important for you to see. She says hurry. It's real important."
Marc knew China would never send for him in this way unless the matter was urgent.
"Cat, go aboard. I'll go see what China wants. Will you be all right? I'll be back in an hour."
"I'll be fine."
"Good."
As Catalina left him and walked up the gangplank, Marc stood for a moment, watching her and again experiencing the strange fe
eling of loss he always felt when she was no longer beside him. Then he turned and got back into the carriage, motioning the boy to join him. Within moments, the carriage had disappeared.
Catalina went directly to the cabin she shared with Marc. She moved slowly, as if she were weighted down by the thoughts that plagued her.
She felt that Marc would walk away from her as easily for another woman as for China. Closing the door behind her, she stood in the center of the cabin. Its emptiness gave her a leaden feeling.
She had tried, she had wanted him to love her, to put away their battles and share a life together. But now her dreadful thoughts made her see the truth. Marc did not love her, nor would he. She had played the game ... and she had lost. She had to face an uncertain future without him, and she would never be the same once he had left her.
Could she spend the days and nights with him for the balance of the trip to Memphis in return for the Belle? She would have to, for the Belle was all she would have—the Belle and memories of what might have been.
❧
Marc's carriage stopped before a house he knew well. He was puzzled, for it was not a house China would frequent. But he walked up the steps and knocked.
The door was opened by a woman who, at one time, must have been pretty. Now she was slatternly and disheveled. Her painted lips widened in a smile, and her eyes raked him appreciatively.
"Well," she said suggestively, "she said ya was a handsome one. She sure was right."
"Is China here? What's the problem, where is she?" Marc replied, ignoring her rapacious gaze.
"She was here. She said she had to do somethin' and she would be right back. You wuz to wait for her. It's real important that ya do. She said she could tell ya somethin' you have to know."
Catalina's Caress Page 31
