Wild Silver

by Iris Johansen

  His voice was savage as he called back over his shoulder. “Scream, you son of a bitch!”

  Bassinger screamed, a piercing wail of terror in the night.

  A moment later the Mary L slid slowly, sluggishly, beneath the waters of the Mississippi.

  Nicholas was sitting in the tufted olive wing chair beside the bed, the soft glow of the lamplight casting an aura of radiance about his golden head. He was wearing dark blue trousers and his white linen shirt was immaculate. He was immaculate, Silver thought with resentment. It was unfair that he look this faultlessly elegant when she felt so unkempt. She found she was on her stomach and tried to roll over and voice her displeasure.

  “No.” His hands were immediately on her shoulders, keeping her from moving. “The doctor said there would be less pain if you don’t rest on your back for a while.”

  “You’re not dirty any longer.”

  He smiled. “Neither are you. Your nurse cleaned you up quite nicely.” He straightened the sheet over her. “She thought you quite a docile patient until the doctor told her he was keeping you that way with morphine.”

  “Morphine? I’ve been asleep?”

  “For almost three days. We’ve been docked in St. Louis since the night the Mary L went down.”

  “The Mary L,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and then quickly opened them again as the horrifying visions of that night came back to her. “How many were lost?”

  “We don’t know exactly. At least four passengers and ten crew members. Robert says it’s a miracle more didn’t perish. Quite a few of the crew suffered bad burns.” His face clouded. “A few died after we docked here in St. Louis. We weren’t able to move all the survivors to the hospital immediately so the parish priest has been coming daily to hear confession and give last rites.”

  Silver swallowed. What a tragic loss of life Bassinger had brought about. So much suffering. “I can help.” She struggled to a sitting position and started to toss the covers aside.

  He stopped her again. “They don’t need your help. There are any number of volunteer nurses watching over the victims, and they’ll be moving the last of them to the hospital this afternoon. You stay where you are.”

  He stood up and poured a small quantity of water into a goblet from a pitcher on the nightstand. He knelt beside her and held the glass to her lips. “Drink. I’ve been moistening your lips with water while you slept, but you have to be thirsty.”

  She was thirsty. She took a careful sip and then another. “You’ve stayed here with me?”

  He nodded. “Since we arrived in St. Louis and had ample help for the survivors.”

  She looked at him wonderingly. “Why?”

  He deliberately gave her almost the same answer she had given him in the saloon of the Mary L. “How could I leave? You were still here.”

  She could only stare at him as the silence resonated with his words. She could feel her heart start to pound and she moistened her lips with her tongue. His dark eyes were gentle, deep, holding her gaze effortlessly. “I don’t understand you.”

  “And I don’t understand you,” he said softly. “But I think it’s time we started. We’ve been strangers too long.” He set the goblet back on the nightstand but remained kneeling by her side. “Tell me about Hell’s Bluff.”

  She frowned in puzzlement. He had started to ask her something about Hell’s Bluff in the carriage the night Bassinger had forced her on board the Mary L. “Hell’s Bluff is a mining town near Killara.”

  “I know that,” Nicholas said impatiently. “I want to know about what happened there. You told Valentin you had never met a count before, but that couldn’t have been true. You had to have known André Marzonoff.”

  “André Marzonoff? Well, I didn’t actually know him,” she said slowly. “And I forgot he was a count. It was a long time ago.”

  Nicholas looked away from her. “What do you mean, you didn’t know him? You watched him die.”

  “No, we were too late. Elspeth was there and tried to stop it, but Dominic and I came too late. He was already dead when we got to the hanging tree.”

  “The hanging tree?”

  “It’s a huge oak tree on the edge of Hell’s Bluff. Elspeth found out that the vigilantes were going to lynch Marzonoff and she was very upset. She told me they had become friends and, if he had stolen a horse, it was because he didn’t understand that it was wrong.” Silver shook her head. “He must have been very stupid.”

  “He wasn’t particularly clever.” Nicholas stopped to clear his throat. “What connection did Dominic Delaney have with the lynching?”

  “He didn’t know anything about it. He was at Rina’s.”

  “The madam?”

  Silver nodded. “I ran to get him because I knew he could stop the lynching if anyone could. I was afraid Elspeth would get hurt and—” She stopped. “You knew this Marzonoff?”

  “He was my cousin.”

  “Then I’m sorry I called him stupid. I didn’t really know him, but anyone who would steal a horse in a town like Hell’s Bluff must have been.” She gazed at him, thinking hard. “It was so long ago, but Elspeth said something.… ”

  His gaze flew back to meet her own. “What?”

  She bit her lower lip. “I just don’t remember. It wasn’t important at the time. I think she said Marzonoff said something about a Nicholas right before he died. I guess you’ll have to ask her.”

  “But I can’t ask her,” he said dryly. “She’s in the company of your elusive uncle.”

  Her expression became wary. “And I won’t tell you where he is.”

  “That has been established.” A corner of his lips curved in a crooked smile. “It may no longer be necessary if you can tell me why Charles Durbin would send me a letter telling me Dominic Delaney was responsible for my cousin’s death.”

  “Durbin!” Silver’s eyes widened in surprise and then glittered with anger. “Why, that yellow bastard.”

  “You know the gentleman?”

  “Dominic shot his son. It was a fair fight, but Durbin put a price on his head anyway. When Elspeth told him she’d blow his head off if he didn’t leave Dominic alone, he backed off but—”

  “The women of your family seem to be of a singularly violent temperament.”

  “He deserved it,” Silver said fiercely. “He was probably afraid to send any more bounty hunters after Dominic, so he snooped around until he found out about your cousin and then tried to get you to go after him. You couldn’t have been stupid enough to believe anything that weasel told you?”

  “If you recall, I had no acquaintance with Durbin or any of you. I had to rely on the Randall Investigative Agency and they—”

  “Are fools,” Silver said flatly.

  “Exactly.”

  “But you’re a fool, too, for not asking me before this. I could have told you what happened.”

  “I believe you swore you wouldn’t tell me anything,” Nicholas said wearily. “And I would scarcely have trusted any story you’d seen fit to regale me with when I first met you. You told me yourself you would only lie to me.”

  He was right, Silver thought. “But you believe me now?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “Because you also said you would be honest with someone who had your respect. Whatever else we feel, I think there’s no doubt that we’ve fought our way through to respect for each other.”

  There was silence in the room.

  “Dominic didn’t want your cousin to die,” she finally said haltingly. “He would have saved him if he could have. Do you understand?”

  Nicholas gazed at her without answering.

  “You can ask Elspeth.” She hesitated, the ingrained distrust of a lifetime struggling with instinct and the desire to ease his troubled mind. Then she rushed on, “You can find her and Dominic in Tyre. They’re going on one final expedition before they go home to Killara.”

  A sudden brilliant smile lit Nicholas’s face. “Thank you, but I don�
��t think it will be necessary to see them. I know what I came here to find out.” His hand reached out and gently stroked the dark hair at her temple. “Poor Silver, it wasn’t easy to tell me this, was it? Neither one of us is very good at trust.” His smile became bittersweet. “I suppose we’ve both learned it’s safer not to let anyone too close.”

  He was trying to tell her something beyond what his words were conveying, but she couldn’t grasp what it was. They were too far apart, she thought in despair. Strangers. She looked away. “I can’t stay here. I have to get back to the circus.”

  He frowned impatiently. “You can wait until you heal.”

  “No.” She clutched the sheet to her breasts. The burns on her wrists were bandaged, she noticed absently. She had forgotten about holding her wrists over the lantern flame to free them. “I have to leave. I’ve been here too long as it is. Etaine needs me.”

  “Etaine?”

  “Monteith’s daughter. She’s only a child and can’t fight Monteith alone.” She brushed her hair from her face, wincing as the muscles rippled beneath the flesh of her lacerated back. “She thinks he wants her dead and she may be right. Monteith is capable of anything. Where are my clothes?”

  “That bit of scarlet gauze you were wearing is in rags and I haven’t procured any replacements yet.” Nicholas’s eyes twinkled. “You could always try the bed curtains again.”

  “This isn’t funny. Etaine needs me.” Silver’s hand tightened on the sheet. “She has a lung affliction and—”

  He placed his fingers on her lips to silence her. “I’m not laughing,” he said softly. “You say the child is in danger? That’s not reasonable if the man is her father, Silver.”

  “Just because he’s capable of begetting a child doesn’t stop him from being a monster. He makes her go into a cage with three lions every day of her life. Does that sound like a loving, fatherly thing to do?” she asked fiercely. “I promised her I’d take her away from Monteith. I was going to wire Patrick and ask him to send me a draft on a local bank. I thought Monteith would give her up if I gave him enough money.”

  “I don’t know. Monteith impressed me as being something of a puzzle. Still, money might be the key.” He stood up. “You want the child?”

  “Of course I want her. I just told you that I’ve made her a promise. Now, get me something to wear.”

  He shook his head. “You stay where you are. The doctor said you should spend at least another week in bed. I have to oversee the moving of more burned patients to the hospital, but I’ll send Valentin to get your Etaine.” He turned toward the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll give Monteith enough money to be sure he releases the girl to you.”

  Silver gazed at him suspiciously. “Why should you do that? Etaine is my problem.” She paused. “I still won’t go to St. Petersburg with you.”

  He flinched. “I’m not without compassion for a helpless child. I don’t demand my pound of flesh in every instance.”

  She gazed at him, the frown still wrinkling her brow.

  He laughed harshly. “My God, what do I have to do to convince you? You want the child. I’m giving her to you. I’ll give you any damn thing you want. As soon as you’re well you can leave me and I won’t reach out a hand to stop you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” he echoed incredulously. “I stood there and watched Bassinger try to beat you to death, knowing I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him.” His hands slowly closed into fists at his sides. “I was helpless. I stood there muttering curses and prayers.” He paused. “And promises. One of those promises was that if you lived, I’d release you and let you go your own way.”

  Silver experienced a strange throb of pain. He was giving her what she had fought for so fiercely. How foolish to feel this aching emptiness. “Guilt?”

  He nodded, his lips twisting in a mirthless smile. “Oh, yes, I’m capable of feeling guilt … and compassion … and many other emotions besides lust and anger and a desire for revenge. It’s unfortunate our association will end before I’m able to demonstrate any of my more virtuous qualities.” He opened the door. “Though you would probably only suspect me of pretending to lure you into my bed again.”

  “No,” she said impulsively. Then when he looked at her in surprise, she hesitated before continuing slowly. “You wouldn’t pretend. I think you’re an honest man.”

  He bowed mockingly. “Many thanks. I suppose I should be grateful to be granted your trust in one area at least.” He gazed at her for a long moment, a multitude of expressions flickering over his face. “I’ll send Valentin and the child to you as soon as he returns.”

  The door swung shut behind him.

  Silver stared at the mahogany panels of the door for a long time before she slowly turned to lie on her stomach, her cheek nestled against the pillow. Her captivity was over. Soon she would be free to take Etaine to Killara, where the child would be safe. She should be wildly happy. She was happy. Naturally her body would miss Nicholas, who had awakened it to pleasure, but her heart would not miss him and she would surely forget him in a few months.

  Forget Nicholas? Forget his seductive golden beauty and sorcerer’s smile? Forget the moments when she had glimpsed tenderness behind that cynical façade?

  Of course she would forget him. The tears running down her cheeks were due only to temporary physical weakness, not sadness. She must get on with her life, for there was no place in Nicholas’s for her that she would accept.

  She wiped her damp cheeks against the pillow. She must plan her future, for she thought it quite possible that she would have Nicholas’s child. If this was true, she must take measures to protect that child. She had taken her pleasure, but the baby must not be allowed to suffer for her recklessness. She must leave the Rose as soon as Valentin returned with Etaine, but there was something she had to do first.

  But she would not worry about that now. She would rest and gather strength and perhaps remember Nicholas’s face when he had smiled at her. It could do no harm to indulge herself when she would be leaving him so soon. Yes, she would lie here and think of Nicholas.…

  “The circus is gone?” Silver gazed at Valentin blankly. “But it couldn’t be gone. I was there only three nights ago.”

  “They packed up and left the next morning.” Valentin said gently. “Monteith arranged passage for his troupe and animals on the Jefferson Davis to New Orleans. According to the shipping agent, he was planning on taking another ship when he reached New Orleans.”

  “He’s going to Europe,” Silver said numbly. “Etaine said—”

  “Not Europe. At least, not immediately,” Valentin said. “Russia.”

  Silver’s eyes widened. “Russia!”

  Valentin nodded ruefully. “He was evidently very impressed by Nicholas’s affluence. He told the shipping agent he was sure Russia would have rich pickings.”

  “Which port?”

  “The agent wasn’t sure. Monteith said he would decide when he got to New Orleans and found what ships were available.”

  Silver drew a deep quivering breath. Oh, Lord, she didn’t even know where Monteith had taken Etaine. Well, she had to find out and quickly. “Where’s Nicholas?”

  “He’s gone ashore to telegraph Randall’s in New Orleans and try to have them intercept Monteith.”

  “Those idiots will never—” She broke off and her hands tightened on the sheet until her knuckles turned white. She must not become upset. She had to think … and act. “Valentin, I need clothes. Would you buy a gown, shoes, and cloak from one of the volunteers nursing the survivors?”

  He gazed at her warily. “Nicholas won’t like it. You’re not well enough to get up yet.”

  “Would he like it better if I walked down that gangplank wearing no gown at all?”

  “Touché.” He grimaced. “It seems I have no choice. Anything else?”

  “Money. I have to go ashore and purchase something.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me th
e nature of the purchase?”

  “No.”

  “Nor let me accompany you?”

  “No.”

  Valentin shook his head gravely. “I can’t let you go unless you promise to come back. Nicky would have me skewered and roasted over slow flames if I let you run away again.”

  “I promise I have every intention of returning to the Rose.”

  Valentin hesitated before slowly reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fat roll of bills and tossing it on the bed. “I know you’re upset, Silver, but don’t do anything foolish.”

  “I won’t.” Silver felt a sudden stinging behind her eyes as she looked up into his worried face. This might be the last time she’d see Valentin, and she realized she would truly miss his wry humor and droll pretense at fopishness. “Thank you, Valentin.”

  “It’s Nicky’s money.” He made a face. “But my head, if you don’t keep your word.”

  “I’ll come back.”

  Valentin studied her. “I believe you.” He turned away. “So I’ll use my considerable charm to talk one of the good ladies out of her clothes. You won’t be pleased. They all dress with the depressing drabness of most virtuous women.” He lifted his brow as he glanced back over his shoulder. “You won’t change your mind?”

  Silver shook her head.

  Valentin sighed. “I didn’t think so.” He shut the door quietly behind him.

  “Hurry,” Silver said impatiently. “I told you there wasn’t much time, Father.”

  The plump, white-haired priest’s breath was coming in little pants as he followed Silver up the gangplank of the Rose. “I am hurrying, young lady,” he said indignantly. “It will do that poor dying soul no good if I expire before I can give him the last rites.”

  Silver caught sight of Mikhail watching them at the top of the gangplank. “Is Nicholas back?”

  Mikhail nodded, puzzled. “He’s in his cabin.”

  “Good.” Silver turned briskly and started toward the stairs leading to the hurricane deck. “Come along, Father Jason.”

  The priest scurried after her.

  Mikhail gazed after them thoughtfully for a moment. Then he walked slowly toward the stairs and began climbing the steps.