Hot Winds From Bombay

by Becky Lee Weyrich

  “And what about my daughter then?”

  Zack almost answered that he hoped by that time Persia would be carrying his child and would have that to keep her happy and occupied while he was away. But discretion stayed his tongue. He answered simply, “Before I leave, she will have a home—our home. And I’ll see that she never wants for anything.”

  “She’ll be wanting for a man. What will she do about that for the two, four years you may be away?”

  “Begging your pardon, sir, but what did your wife do?”

  Captain Whiddington suddenly looked down at his desk and shuffled some papers about. “She suffered a great deal, I’m afraid.”

  “But she is a strong, faithful woman, and she survived.”

  “Aye, lad, well put.”

  “Your daughter is every bit as strong.”

  “And does she love you?”

  “I believe so, sir. She says she does, and it’s in her eyes.”

  “I can’t say this comes as a surprise. I saw the way she looked at you at dinner today. A woman can speak volumes with her silent observation of a man. It is, however, quite sudden. I wish there were more time.”

  “I wish that, too, sir. But if I stayed ashore to court her properly, I’d lose valuable time working my way up the chain of command. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Aye. And no doubt the result would be the same. She’d wait and pine her life away until you came back to marry her.”

  “Then you approve, Captain Whiddington?” The question was spoken with almost painful relief.

  The man’s gray head shot up and his steely eyes narrowed. “No, dammit, I don’t approve! If it were up to me, I’d make old maids of both my girls, pretending to the day I die that they’re too young to marry. But what would that make me? Some kind of ogre in their eyes. If this is what she wants, so be it. You have my blessing.”

  Zachariah rose solemnly and went to the desk, offering his hand to the captain, who shook it firmly. “You do me a great honor, Captain Whiddington.”

  “Mind you treat her well! As long as you do, we’ll be friends. Raise a hand to her in anger or drunkenness, and your death is a foregone conclusion.”

  “You have no need to fear for her. I love her more deeply than I ever believed was possible.”

  They shared a toast to the occasion and passed a quarter hour in man talk. Then Zack was given his cue to depart. He desperately longed to see Persia to give her the good news. But that was for her father to do. He would come to supper the following evening to make it all official. At that time, he might kiss her cheek to seal the engagement. They would be married in two weeks at the church on Main Street. Zack had asked for a shorter wait, but the captain told him that would be impossible.

  Zack walked out the front door never feeling his boots touch solid earth. Light, powdery snowflakes were beginning to fall. They swirled in pretty patterns in the lamplight streaming from the windows. Moving on without even realizing he was walking, Zack shuffled through the fine covering of snow until he stood in the exact spot where he had first seen Persia. He glanced up. She was there at the window, and his heart gave a sudden, soul-wrenching lurch. He ached to have her in his arms, to kiss her, to touch her, to tell her all the wonders of love that they would share.

  “Soon,” he whispered. “Soon, my darling.”

  Persia stared down at the darkness. She couldn’t see Zack below on the street, but somehow she knew he was standing there, watching her window. She had heard the front door close moments before. And the gooseflesh prickling her skin told her that someone was staring up at her unshaded window. It had to be Zack… dear Zack.

  If only she could see his face. She would know then what had happened with her father. How could she wait any longer? This was a slow kind of death—waiting and not knowing. She had half a mind to storm downstairs and demand to know what had been said between them. After all, it was her life that was being decided! But no. She could not disrupt the accepted way of things. She would simply have to try to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning to find out the news—good or bad.

  It had to be good! She wouldn’t allow herself to think of any other possibility.

  Persia had changed out of her blue-and-yellow dress and now wore a long flannel gown that covered her from ankles to chin. The soft material caressed her bare flesh as she moved, causing her nipples to respond each time she thought of Zack.

  Tucking the hem under her feet, she curled up in the window seat and stared out at the swirling flakes dancing past. She let her mind flow, imagining what it would be like to snuggle close to Zack’s warm body on such a night. In his arms, she would have no need of long gowns to keep her from the cold. She would be wrapped in his love and filled with the heat of their newfound passion. Even now, she could imagine how it felt to have his full lips taking possession of hers, demanding with his silken tongue that she obey his fierce will. A weakness of willing surrender washed over her. She could remember the intense sensations aroused deep within her when his fingers fondled her breasts. What would it be like when no fabric stood as a barrier keeping flesh from aching flesh? She shivered at the mere thought, and a gnawing ache took possession of her deepest, most private parts.

  “Zack,” she sighed. ‘Oh, my darling, how I need you!”

  Persia had drifted off to sleep dreaming of her wedding night by the time her father finally gave up work at his desk and climbed the stairs wearily. He had planned to finish early tonight. He needed Victoria’s softness beneath him, surrounding him. He had planned to make slow and satisfying love to her tonight.

  But now it was late. He would probably have to wake her. And once she heard his news, she would be in no mood to lavish affection on him. He knew that the last thing she wanted for either of her daughters was marriage to a seafaring man. Victoria was adamant about it. But what could he do? They were in love. And the man had saved her life! But for Zachariah Hazzard and his daring rescue, they might be anticipating a funeral now instead of a wedding.

  Asa moved down the hallway silently. Both his daughters’ doors were closed and their rooms quiet and dark. He didn’t want to wake them. Reaching for the brass handle to the bedroom he shared with Victoria, he turned it soundlessly. She was sleeping, her lovely dark hair spread out on the pillow like lush strands of black silk thread.

  He undressed and pulled on his nightshirt before waking her. When he reached the bed, he touched her linencovered breast, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “My darling?”

  Her eyes fluttered open and a slow smile curved her elegant mouth.

  “Home from the sea, my captain?”

  “Aye, woman! And demanding my usual welcome,” he said in a teasing voice.

  “Well, you shan’t have it!” She turned away from him, playfully daring him to steal a kiss from her.

  Instead, he touched her arm lightly. “Victoria, we must talk.”

  She turned back to him, her smile gone and a worried look in her eyes. “What is it, Asa? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, darling. It’s just that we may be about to lose one of our girls.”

  She sat up in bed, her face wild with apprehension. “What are you saying?”

  “It seems love has struck, my dear.”

  Her worried look smoothed itself into a mask of delight. “You mean that’s what Seton wanted to talk to you about? He’s finally asked to marry Europa?”

  Asa waved a hand in annoyance. “No. No. He only wanted to ask my advice on some tedious point of nautical law. A pure waste of my time. Persia would have known the answer to such an elemental question. It’s Zachariah Hazzard. He made an honest and noble plea for Europa this evening.”

  “You turned him down, of course!”

  Asa reached out and stroked his wife’s cheek. “Dearest, how could I? They’re in love.”

  “I won’t have it!” she stormed. “She’ll be no better than a widow most of her life. I have it
all planned. She’s to marry Seton Holloway.”

  “That’s your plan, Victoria. I believe Europa has plans of her own. We can’t stand in the way of her happiness. Not when we know the wonders of love.”

  As he spoke, Asa stripped the gown from his wife’s shoulder, baring one breast. The nipple stared up at him—wide, erect, inviting. He circled it slowly with the center of his palm, and Victoria caught her breath.

  “Would you deny your own daughter such pleasures with the man she loves as you and I have found together, my darling?” He whispered the words onto his wife’s bare flesh and felt her breast shudder against his hand in response.

  “Don’t talk of such things. It’s indecent to think of one’s own daughter doing… feeling… ah-h-h!”

  Asa kissed her nipple, letting his tongue tease its tip just before he sucked it into his mouth. Victoria fell back among the pillows, unable to offer any further protest to her daughter’s marriage or to her husband’s needs.

  All the while, their daughter Persia lay wrapped in the down quilts of her bed, dreaming of the time when she could give up her body and her love to the man of her choice—Zachariah Hazzard—having no idea that he had unwittingly promised himself to her sister, Europa.

  Chapter Nine

  Europa was up early the next morning. She swept into Persia’s room without knocking, her face aglow with anticipation.

  “My stars, Persia! You’re not dressed yet? You know, of course, that Seton asked Father for my hand last night. It seems to me you’d have a little more consideration and hurry for once in your life. It’s cruel to keep me waiting like this. I was awake all night. I can hardly bear it a moment longer. Father must make the announcement at breakfast.”

  “It’s only six-thirty, Europa. Father is probably still sleeping.” Persia started to add that she was just as excited and eager to get to the breakfast table as her sister. But she stopped herself. What a grand surprise it would be when their father announced two engagements over breakfast! Yes, it would be worth the wait just to see the look on her sister’s face.

  While Europa paced the bedroom, her lavender-blue woolen skirt whispering over the floor, Persia did up the last of the pewter buttons at the neck of her red-and-black Scots plaid dress. She brushed her hair out and let it hang to her waist. Her fingers were trembling far too much to pin it up or even to braid it.

  “I’m ready,” she announced.

  Europa turned to her younger sister, and suddenly her haughty composure slipped. Tears brimmed in her eyes and her lower lip quivered.

  “Europa, whatever is the matter?” Persia cried. She’d never seen her sister this way.

  “Oh, I’m so frightened!”

  The next instant she flung herself into Persia’s arms and let out a sob.

  “Frightened of what? Surely not of Seton. You love him, don’t you?”

  Europa, fighting for control, stepped away. “Love him? Why, I haven’t the vaguest idea whether I love him or not. I’m used to him. I know what to expect from him. But lovel Actually, I’ve never put much stock in that emotion. It just comes naturally after marriage, I’d always supposed. That’s not troubling me in the least.”

  Persia stared at her sister, unable to form an answer. How often she had felt jealous of Europa, but not this time. It must be dreadful not to know about love!

  “Then why are you so upset?”

  The lip commenced trembling again. “Supposing Father said no. I’m practically an old maid now. And if I had to start all over, allowing some new suitor to woo me, I’d be gray and arthritic before he proposed.”

  “Oh, bilge water!” Persia replied, using her favorite sailor’s curse. “Is that all that’s bothering you? You know Mother is all for this match. She wouldn’t have allowed Father to turn down Seton’s proposal.”

  “I certainly hope you’re right.” Europa laughed suddenly, and the tears dried at the same instant. “You know, for a time I thought it might be interesting to try taking Zachariah Hazzard from you. But then I saw that he was only toying with your affections anyway and I lost interest. Still, he came in handy. Seton certainly jumped right in to pop the question when he saw me making eyes at Zack. He’s a fascinating man all right. But he’ll never be a one-woman man. Why, I imagine he has girls in ports all over the world. No, he’s not the sort for me. And you’re lucky you’re too young to have your head turned by his pretty talk. Because that’s all he is… talk! The woman who agrees to marry him will have a glorious wedding night and then live in misery for the rest of her life.” She cocked her head and gave Persia a sly smile. “Still, it might be worth the pain to spend just one night in those great, muscled arms of his, to be the victim of his ravenous kisses from dark till dawn. He is such an animal!” She finished in a husky whisper, with a shudder of delicious dread.

  Persia was seething inside, but she managed to control her outward emotions. So Zack was all talk, was he? Well, Europa would soon find out the truth of the matter. As for the glory of her wedding night, she could hardly wait. But there would be no misery following it, only love… to the grave and beyond. And her mind was made up. She and Zack would move to Boston and make their home there once they were married. She refused to spend the rest of her life having Europa remind her daily that she, too, had been held in Zack’s arms and had tasted his kisses. In Persia’s eyes, such vicious, sisterly taunts would be grounds for murder.

  The tinkling of a silver bell signaled the sisters that breakfast was about to be served. Persia was still furious as they started downstairs, but with every step her racing pulses calmed. Europa would soon have to eat her words with her oatmeal for breakfast. Oh, what a joy that would be!

  Both girls sensed good news in the air the moment they reached the floor below. Breakfast was not set in the little blue room off the kitchen where they usually ate their morning meal, but in the formal dining room with its lovely mural. Once more, elegant lace graced the table and the best china lay gleaming in place. Persia and Europa exchanged knowing glances as they entered.

  “Well, ladies, won’t you be seated?” their father invited, a merry gleam in his silver-gray eyes.

  There wasn’t the slightest hint of the smell of oatmeal in the air. Instead, the mouth-watering aroma of cinnamon and apples drifted in from the kitchen. Dried apples were a well-guarded commodity in the Whiddington household, kept in barrels in the root cellar. Although the Whiddingtons had a fine orchard out back, most of the fruit it produced was sent on the ice ships to India, where fresh frozen apples brought their weight in silver. The bright red beauties were too dear to be consumed in large quantities by the household.

  “Apple muffins? Why, Mother, what’s the special occasion?” Europa sounded as if she hadn’t the faintest idea in the world of what was going on.

  “Sit down, dear, and let Fletcher serve us. Then your father has a few words to say.”

  Fletcher eased his way into the room like a blue-clad specter, gliding soundlessly from one chair to the next, serving the prized apple muffins with fresh-churned butter, apple jelly, and thick slabs of honey-cured ham. As much as the girls would have wished it, he could not be rushed. The native servant was as methodical as the tattooed pattern dotting his face. Finally, he poured coffee, tea, and chocolate, then disappeared.

  “Well, Captain?” Victoria was back to the usual formality she used in front of family, friends, and strangers alike. This might be the same dear husband who had caressed her to frenetic ecstasy in the privacy of their bedroom last night, but now the door to that room was shut, and he was no longer “darling,” but “Captain Whiddington” to his wife. “I believe it is time.”

  He chewed the rest of his muffin with excruciating care, swallowed, then reached for his coffee cup and drank deeply. Persia and Europa both sat bolt upright in their chairs, their mouths closed to food until they heard what their father had to say.

  As usual on such auspicious occasions, the captain was not one t
o get straight to the point. He was a firm believer in preamble at the speaker’s rostrum.

  He rose slowly, pushing out from the table, and stood, gripping his napkin as if it were the helm of a ship. “Ladies… ahem. It is with great pleasure and, I admit, no small amount of fatherly pride that I make this announcement to you today. It has been evident for some time now that you, Europa, are the most sought-after maiden in all of York County. I have lost track over the years of how many suitors have come and gone. This doesn’t surprise me. You were a cunning child, and now you are a fetching woman—as bright as you are beautiful.” He paused and smiled directly at her.

  “Thank you, Father.” Europa’s voice was as thin as a cobweb.

  “No thanks to me, my dear girl. Your mother deserves all the credit.” He extended a hand toward his wife as if he expected her to rise and take a bow. Victoria only smiled and nodded encouragement for him to get on with it. He did, turning to his other daughter.

  “Persia, my dear, I see that you are following in your lovely sister’s footsteps. In that gown you were wearing yesterday—”

  “Captain!” Victoria interrupted, a scold in her voice.

  He cleared his throat once more before he continued. “Your day will come all too soon, I fear.”

  Persia frowned. Something about his tone and her mother’s interruption set her on edge. What was he saying? That her time had not come yet? It certainly sounded that way. Had he accepted Seton’s petition for Europa’s hand, but rejected Zack’s offer for hers? But why? It had to be her age. Still, she was no younger than her mother had been when she had married. Suddenly she felt faint and sick. Her father’s next words didn’t help the feeling any.

  “Europa, last night a young man came to me and asked for your hand in marriage. Although your mother had some reservations at first, she has now agreed.”

  Now Europa was frowning. Her mother had pushed for her engagement to Seton Holloway all along. Why would she suddenly raise objections? And what objections?