Fire and Ice

by Hart, Catherine

  Dear Reader,

  I am so pleased that my titles have been converted into e-books for your continued enjoyment in the new format. As for Fire and Ice in particular, it was my first book and as such will always hold a special place in my heart. Having enjoyed reading so many historical novels about pirates, I noticed that the majority starred males, with very few female pirates. I became intrigued with the notion of a female pirate, and began jotting down ideas, which inevitably evolved into this book.

  May you enjoy reading it as much as I took pleasure from writing it.

  Catherine Hart

  “Fire and Ice” Copyright © 1984 by Catherine Hart

  FIRE AND ICE First Ebook edition July 2018 ISBN: 978-1-944654-20-7

  All rights reserved. No part of the Ebook may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both copyright owner and Class Ebook Editions Ltd., the publisher of the Ebook. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  “What could be more exciting than an adventurous, swashbuckling romance like Catherine Hart's FIRE AND ICE? – Romantic Times

  “ASHES AND ECSTASY will keep you captive in its colorful world from the first page” – Romantic Times

  “An absolute delight, pure fun and sizzling romance from the first page to the last, with a twist in the plot that makes it stand apart … a book I'll always remember. Wonderful characters! Witty dialogue! In SPLENDOR Catherine Hart proves herself to be a master.” — Bestselling author Catherine Anderson

  “A rollicking swashbuckler that's full of laughs and loads of fun to read... Enjoy.” –New York Times Bestselling author Kat Martin on SPLENDOR

  “A real page turner, sparkling with verbal wit filled with that special Catherine Hart touch of magic.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on SPLENDOR

  “Bold and audacious.”– Publishers Weekly on CHARMED

  “Veteran historical author Catherine Hart branches into time-travel romance and takes lucky readers on a wondrous journey. CHARMED combines magic, history, and romance into a most enthralling read.” – Romantic Times

  “Hart offers a gripping, sympathetic portrait of the Cheyenne as a proud people caught in turmoil by an encroaching world.” – Publishers Weekly on SUMMER STORM

  “Hart again demonstrates an unusual sensitivity to Native American traditions [and] presents the Cheyenne way of life with great respect and sympathy.” – Publishers Weekly on NIGHT FLAME

  “TEMPEST is more than a romance, but a novel that teaches us about forgiving and building a new life. An extraordinary novel.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review

  “This is a light-hearted, charming, delightful, classic Catherine Hart romance. Hart has incorporated her unique sense of humor with a powerful clash of wills and a highly sensual love story. Fans are in for a real treat.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on TEMPTATION

  “Catherine Hart has written a delightful love story filled with some wonderful characters. A fast-paced page turner.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on DAZZLED

  “IRRESISTIBLE is tantalizing—a love story that will make you laugh and cry and lift your spirits. Catherine Hart has created a story of love triumphing over all obstacles. This is the ‘feel good’ read of the season.” – Romantic Times 4½ starred review on IRRESISTIBLE

  “Action-packed, thrilling HORIZONS is an exhilarating tale of courage, ingenuity and survival. With this novel as her launching pad, the talented Ms. Hart makes a spectacular jump into contemporary fiction.” – Romantic Times 4½ starred review

  “Hart chooses to set her latest tale of romantic suspense in the high-profile world of professional sports. Those looking for danger and passion spiced with humor will find she delivers.” – Romantic Times 4 starred review on IMPULSIVE

  Fire and Ice

  Catherine Hart

  Class Ebook Editions, Ltd.

  New York, NY

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Dear Reader

  Copyright

  Praise for Catherine Hart

  Title page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Biography

  Also by Catherine Hart

  Excerpt

  Splendor Chapter 1

  Chapter 1

  KATHLEEN stood alone on the crest of the hill. A breeze tugged at the skirt of her black silk dress, and her long red-gold hair whipped across her face. That face, lovely enough to start any man’s heart racing, was filled with sorrow. Her large emerald eyes reflected the color of the Irish sea into which she tearfully stared. She was an arresting sight even in her mourning dress, with her beautiful young figure outlined in silhouette as the wind molded her dress against her thighs and firm, high breasts. Arms clutched tightly at her waist, she valiantly blinked away the tears that clung to her long, dark eyelashes and traced a path silently down her cheeks. A shudder ran through her slim frame as she tried to quell the sobs which threatened to start anew.

  “Mistress Kathleen, ’tis time to go. The carriage is loaded and waiting. Mrs. Dunley sent me to fetch ye.”

  The girl turned to nod sadly to the elderly man climbing the hill toward her. “Thank you, George. I’m coming, though Lord knows why I have to go anywhere at all when I have a perfectly fine home and friends here.” She sighed. “But, no! They are determined to send me halfway across the world to a wilderness full of Indians and crude backwoodsmen, and relatives I’ve never laid eyes on. It doesn’t make a tinker’s lot of sense to me!” She stopped her descent to stamp her small booted foot for emphasis, then continued, “And that’s another burr under my saddle! Why is it just because I’m seventeen and a female, everyone thinks I haven’t the brains to manage this estate by myself? Papa left it to me in his will. He knew I could manage it. For years now I have handled the books for the estate. I’ll wager I know more about rents and sales of grains and stocks than most boys my age.”

  “I’d bet on that, Miss,” George agreed, nodding. “Besides, ye did a fine job of runnin’ the house, too, since your poor dear mother took sick of the fever and passed away four years back. She was a fine Irish lady, she was. O’ course, yer pa was a fine gentleman, too, even if he was English. No disrespect meant, Miss.”

  “None taken, George. To be sure, I’ll miss him dearly. I’ll never understand how his horse stumbled and threw him. Midnight was always so sure footed and Papa was a superb horseman.” A fresh sob broke through as she recalled both horse and rider found three days before with their necks broken.

  The neighbors had all been very kind. Nearly everyone in the county had attended the
funeral the day before. Edward Haley had been well thought of by all who knew him. He had come to Ireland twenty years before, fallen in love with a beautiful red-haired lass named Ann O’Reilly, and married her. Lord Edward did not endorse the harsh way England ruled Ireland and her people, but there was little more he could do than treat his tenant farmers and servants fairly. He fell in love with the country and would never consent to becoming an absentee landlord as many Englishmen did. Thus, he won the admiration and respect of his new countrymen.

  Kathleen had been born in Ireland and had only left for two short years to attend finishing school in England. Although she had excelled in her courses, she hated leaving her father alone in Ireland. She worked hard at learning to conduct herself as a lady, not an easy task for such a high-spirited tomboy as she. She quickly learned to speak French, Spanish, and even English without a trace of Irish accent. However, she did not learn to curb her quick temper, nor her razor-sharp tongue. She had a natural grace, never seeming awkward or clumsy as some young girls were. There were lessons in manners, how to walk and talk, dress and dance, eat and sit; how to entertain a gentleman and have him think you were interested in his every word when you were bored to tears. She also learned how to flirt, and to politely reject a gentleman’s proposals, whether decent or indecent in nature. Kathleen learned to play the pianoforte tolerably well, and surprised even herself to learn what a beautiful full-throated singing voice she had. But most of this was extremely tiresome to her, so she determined to learn quickly and return home as soon as possible.

  Once home, her father taught her more interesting things, such as fencing. As her father had hired the best fencing masters to tutor her, no one handled a rapier better than she. At first the rapier seemed extremely heavy, but gradually she grew used to its weight and length, and it became almost an extension of her right arm. Her reflexes were superb; her responses instantaneous. Soon she was besting each instructor in turn, much to their dismay and embarrassment.

  Edward also took her on many of his sailing jaunts to England, checking with buyers for his small shipping line. She became an expert sailor, much of the time captaining the ship herself while her father busied himself with the merchandise or paperwork. The other sailors grudgingly respected her, but eventually grew used to having her command. Many took a great liking to the lass and were proud to sail under her. She seemed to inspire a rare loyalty in her men.

  Rarely had Kathleen encountered anything she loved better than sailing, with the wind filling the sails and the sea changing colors beneath an azure sky or brilliant sunset. She gloried in the awesome power of the waves and the freedom of being perched in the rigging and losing herself in the beauty of a perfect dawn. The sights and sounds, smells and feel of the sea made her blood race wildly.

  Now she would be sailing on her father’s ship again, only this time as a passenger. She was going to Edward’s sister’s home in America. Aunt Barbara and Uncle William Baker lived in Savannah, Georgia, with their two children, Ted and Amy. Kathleen did not want to go, and determined to try again to persuade her father’s solicitor and lifelong friend to let her stay. Somehow, the adventure of sailing unknown seas did not dull the pain of leaving home. “Perhaps,” the thought crept in, “forever.”

  Reaching the bottom of the hill, they continued past the stables where Kathleen had already bid a final farewell to her beautiful black gelding, and circled around the corner of the huge stone mansion to the front entrance where the carriage stood ready. The servants were waiting to wish her well on her journey, all trying to look cheerful and failing miserably. Kathleen stopped before each with a kind word here, a pat there, an embrace for another. There were numerous sniffles and coughs, and nearly all were dabbing at their eyes by the time she climbed into the carriage with her faithful old Nanna and her father’s solicitor, Mr. Kirby.

  As they started rolling along the curved stone drive, Kathleen could not resist the urge to take a final, long look at the only home she had ever known. The stone mansion stood majestically beyond a rolling green lawn dotted by huge oaks. Steep hills rose behind, their emerald glow intensified against the brilliant blue sky above.

  Now they were passing numerous pastures where sheep, cattle, and horses grazed contentedly. Kathleen could see farmfields beyond being readied for planting. All the world was coming to life to greet spring in a profusion of color, yet Kathleen had never felt so numb inside. She felt nothing save her heart-wrenching pain and grief.

  “How I shall miss all this,” she thought sadly.

  Once again she turned to the portly Mr. Kirby and queried, “Why can I not stay here instead and run the estate myself with your help? I know I could do it. I promise not to be a burden. Please! I cannot bear this so soon after my dear papa has gone,” she choked.

  The kindly Mr. Kirby leaned across and gently laid a hand on her arm, saying, “I’m sorry, lass, but I have explained all this to you before. It is unwise for you to remain here with political unrest becoming more pronounced each day. You are half English, and though you were raised here it is unhealthy for an unprotected young lady to ever consider staying. It would be very risky indeed. The Irish will resent the English blood you carry, and the English will not trust the Irish part of you. The situation here is fast becoming critical, and you should not be here when the cauldron boils over.

  “In the meantime, the estate will be maintained through me, and kept running. The house itself will run with a small staff until you can return. Meanwhile, you must go to America and live with your aunt. A single lass such as yourself cannot remain living alone in a huge house with only servants. It would only invite gossip and problems. Being a bachelor myself, it would not be deemed proper for me to take you in. You cannot imagine the fortune hunters who would flock to your door. You are quite a wealthy woman with this estate. I know there are young lads aplenty who would sincerely court you for your love and beauty alone, but then there are none you have particularly favored so far. I must warn you there are others who would wed you for your fortune alone, since even now Catholic Irishmen cannot own land under English law. An enterprising young scamp could wed a Protestant lass such as yourself, and though he couldn’t claim a title, he would own the estates through marriage and his children could inherit the lands and the title of lord or lady. I would hate to see you marry for any reason other than a love such as your parents had. You need time to adjust to your loss so as not to jump hastily into a marriage you may regret. Give yourself this time, girl. You will see the wisdom of it.”

  “You are right when you say I have not found a man I can love as Mama loved Papa, but I doubt I shall find one in America, either,” she said. “I would rather stay here and let the right man find me, but I can see I’ll get no place trying to convince you on that matter.”

  Turning to Mrs. Dunley, she added glumly, “Well, Nanna, it looks like we are off to America—like it or not. I hope you will have little trouble developing your sea legs. From what I figure it will take six to eight weeks to reach Georgia, depending on the weather.”

  “Once you get there I’m sure you’ll like it,” Mr. Kirby assured. “I’m told Savannah is a port city with a fine ocean breeze in the summer and not too dreadfully cold in winter. At least not as cold as England or the northern American cities.

  “I’ve written your aunt of your coming, but could not really advise her on a time for your arrival. She is a lovely woman. In our university years, she was always underfoot of Edward and me. Her husband, Mr. Baker, seemed a nice enough sort, but they left soon after they were married, so we never saw either of the children. They are about your age, I suppose. Also,” he continued, “your maternal grandmother lives on a plantation just outside Savannah, so you will not lack for people who care for you.”

  “Grandmother O’Reilly,” Kathleen mused. “I think I remember her and Grandfather from when I was little. When did they move to America?”

  “They left when you were just a wee lass of three,” contributed M
rs. Dunley. “Your mama used to say although your grandmother loved her new country, she missed her only daughter and granddaughter. You are her namesake, you know, Kathleen. She was called Kate. You look and act exactly like her. She was quite a spirited young lass, too, she was. Always into much mischief so I hear, just as you are most of the time, love.”

  “Now, Nanna, don’t start on me,” Kathleen began. “I truly try to be good. I always have, but boys just have so much more fun. I never could resist climbing trees, swimming in the lake, catching frogs, and all.”

  “To be sure,” Mrs. Dunley laughed, “but you didn’t have to fall out of the trees, swim in the altogether with the lads, and wallow in mud to get the frogs! Oh, you’ve led your mama and me a merry chase, and I’ve a feeling you’re not done yet. Just now it is the boy’s breeches I disapprove of so.”

  “Nanna, I’m sure you’d not be pleased to see me sail or ride astride a horse or fence in a skirt,” Kathleen said. “They are not only uncomfortable and impractical, but also much more revealing than the breeches.

  “Now I am wondering,” Kathleen said, leaning out through the window of the carriage, trying to catch a glimpse of the bay they were nearing, “if Grandmother lives in Savannah, why can’t I live with her? After all, she is probably lonely with Grandfather dead these past seven years.”

  Mr. Kirby shifted to a more comfortable position on his seat. “No, Kathleen, it is best you live with your aunt. Your grandmother is probably in her late sixties and an active young girl would likely be upsetting to her. Besides, I suppose she is not very active in the social circles any longer, while your aunt and uncle will be attending numerous functions of society and can introduce you to other young people in the proper circles. Your cousins will be much company for you too, I know, especially at first when you know no one else. Of course, you may visit your grandmother whenever you wish, though your Aunt Barbara’s family, being English, does not associate with her overly much. In point of fact, they do not acknowledge any family ties to your Irish side of the family at all.”