Fire and Ice

by Hart, Catherine

  “In that case, I’m surprised they want me to come.” Tossing her head, Kathleen thrust her chin out defiantly. Her already slightly uptilted nose tilted a little higher in her anger.

  “Don’t judge them unfairly, Kathleen. Get to know them first,” Mr. Kirby advised. “Ah, we are almost at the docks. It won’t be long now. A few minutes at the most. I am glad we started when we did. I would not want to annoy the captain by being late.”

  Kathleen breathed deeply of the sea and said, “By the way, who is this captain you’ve hired? It is my frigate we are sailing on and I could have captained it myself with my regular crew.”

  “I realize what an excellent sailor you are, my dear, but this Captain Taylor I’ve hired is from Savannah. His family owns a plantation there and he knows the Baker family well. It is better to sail with someone who knows the Atlantic as well as he, having crossed it several times. Besides, many ships have been encountering pirates and privateers lately with England and France being at war. If you don’t get stopped by the English or French, a privateer will surely try. Sailing with your father to England was one thing; this is quite another matter,” Mr. Kirby stressed.

  “Tell me more about Captain Taylor,” Kathleen said. “How does he happen to be in Ireland without a ship?”

  “Oh, he has a ship, miss. They arrived four nights ago smuggling in contraband arms for Ireland, so the rumor goes. I ran into him in one of the waterfront pubs. Of course, he does not own the other ship either, but sails it for the owners. I hear his family wanted him to stay home to run the plantation, and so would not support him with the price of his own ship. Nevertheless, he still chose a life at sea. He agreed to sail the Kat-Ann on the condition he could fill the hold with cargo to take back to America and sell at his own profit. Also, he will bring along half of his own crew, as they are used to sailing under his command, and fill in the other half with men who have sailed with your father. It is my understanding that his quartermaster will sail the other ship—the Sea Fire I believe it is—with the other half of his crew and others signed up from the docks. You will be even safer traveling in the company of another ship.”

  “Why is it we are sailing the Kat-Ann instead of the Starbright?” Though they sailed the Kat-Ann more often, the Starbright was Kathleen’s favorite.

  “Kathleen, you forget. The Starbright is in drydock getting her hull scraped and tarred. She'll soon be on the seas again and putting in at Savannah with goods and mail every so often. I’ll tell her captain to be sure to let you know when she’s in port.”

  The carriage jolted to a halt, nearly throwing all three passengers from their seats. Not waiting for the coachman to open the door, Kathleen jumped down in a flurry of skirts. She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and peered out into the bay. The Kat-Ann was riding at anchor about a quarter mile out. Glancing quickly about, Kathleen located the dinghy that would row them out to the ship. Taking off her glove, she put two fingers between pursed lips and gave a shrill whistle. Old Dan Shanahan looked up from the dinghy, gave a broad smile, and waved. Climbing nimbly from the boat, he hastened toward her.

  “Cap’n Kathleen, ’tis a pleasure to see ye again. We’ll be sailing together this voyage, though I must say ’twill seem queer not having ye in command. Mr. Kirby here warned us not to mention ye being a captain and all, seeing as that Captain Taylor knows yer relatives in America. I guess yer aunt would take a case of the vapors if she ever got wind of some of your unladylike talents, eh?” Dan chuckled.

  “To be sure, Dan, that she would. Best keep our secrets to ourselves for a while,” Kathleen grinned.

  Mr. Kirby assisted a frowning Mrs. Dunley from the carriage, and Dan went to help the men take the bags aboard the dinghy.

  “Kathleen, kindly conduct yourself properly,” Mrs. Dunley pleaded wearily, “before I lose all these lovely gray hairs you’ve put on my head.”

  Grinning impishly at the older woman, Kathleen took her by the arm and together they walked toward the waiting dinghy.

  When the dinghy came alongside the Kat-Ann, Kathleen was the first to climb aboard. Shrugging off the offer of assistance, she scurried sure-footedly up the ladder. Next came Nanna, very reluctantly and requiring much help and encouragement.

  “I knew you could do it, Nanna,” Kathleen soothed the older woman. “See, I told you it wasn’t so hard.” Kathleen patted her lightly on the arm as Nanna stepped wobbily aboard.

  As she turned from the rail, Kathleen nearly collided with the captain. The first thing that impressed her was his size. Kathleen stood five-foot-six, which was tall for a woman, but this man towered at least eight inches above her. He stepped back and she saw that he was powerfully built, his uniform jacket seeming barely able to constrain his broad frame. Though he had wide shoulders, his hips and waist were slim above long muscular legs. She raised her eyes and gazed straight into icy blue eyes fringed with thick black lashes. His dark hair was trimmed to collar length, and an inky wave of it fell rakishly across his forehead. His handsome face was etched with impatience.

  Mr. Kirby stepped forward. “Captain, this is Lady Haley, of whom I spoke, and her escort, Mrs. Dunley. Kathleen, may I present Captain Reed Taylor.”

  The captain gave a curt nod and spoke brusquely, “Ladies, ten more minutes and I would have set sail without you. The bo’s’n will see to it that your trunks are taken to your cabins, and you will be assigned a cabin boy to see to your needs.”

  Through her irritation Kathleen noticed full sensuous lips set above a strong jawline. His cheekbones were high and well defined, and he had straight white teeth that contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned face. His nose looked as if it had been taken directly from a Roman statue. He was by far the most handsome man she had ever met, and she flushed as he caught her studying him.

  “Thank you for seeing the ladies aboard, Mr. Kirby,” the captain continued, “but as we are about to be underway, perhaps you had better bid them farewell and return to shore. Unless, of course, you are prepared to travel to Savannah.” His deep voice carried a slight southern accent that sounded foreign to Kathleen’s ears, but in no way concealed his impatience and contempt.

  “Ladies, if you will excuse me I’ll be about the ship’s business.” With that Captain Taylor turned and left them.

  “A man of few words, I would say,” Kathleen commented wryly, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I do hope he is not so unpleasant during the entire voyage.”

  “He’s probably the type who feels that women aboard ship are bad luck,” Dan whispered over her shoulder. “Little does he know! Hee! Hee!” Dan ambled off chuckling merrily.

  Turning to Mr. Kirby, Kathleen inquired peevishly, “Does Captain Taylor know that I own this ship?”

  “I did not think it was necessary to reveal family business to him, dear,” Kirby secretly squirmed beneath Kathleen’s angry gaze.

  “I beg to differ with you, and I can assure you that if his present attitude is normal for him, I shall take great pleasure in informing him just whom he is dealing with.”

  “Kathleen,” he warned gently, “don’t get your back up and start making problems. Just sit back and enjoy a pleasant voyage and let the captain manage the ship.” He cleared his voice nervously. “Now I really must go,” he said, hugging her affectionately. “We’ll miss having you here to liven up our dull lives. Have a safe journey and convey my greetings to your family, especially your Aunt Barbara,” he added.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Dunley. Take good care of our girl.”

  Kathleen watched the dinghy cast off toward shore. Then with a final wave of her hand, she led Nanna down the passageway leading to the cabins at the sterncastle. A thin red-haired boy of about thirteen was just coming out of the doorway next to the captain’s quarters.

  “Captain Kathleen—er—I mean Lady Kathleen, you’ll be in your usual cabin next to the captain’s and the other lady is in the one across from yours. Your trunks are there already.” He paused, then added, “Sorry abo
ut your father.”

  “Thank you, Bobby. This,” she said, gesturing to Mrs. Dunley, “is Mrs. Dunley. Nanna, meet Bobby, our cabin boy. He will provide us with anything we may need and help you in any way he can.”

  “Right now all I need is to get to those trunks before our clothes get so wrinkled that I spend the entire voyage pressing them.” She shuffled off into the cabin, her gray head bobbing in perfect rhythm with her short, round body.

  Kathleen entered her cabin and glanced around. Everything was as she remembered it. She had always occupied this room when she sailed the Kat-Ann with her father. It was smaller than the captain’s, but larger than the quartermaster’s. Definitely, it was not your usual, Spartan cabin. Her trunk sat at the foot of the bunk against the wall which divided her room from the captain’s. On the other side of the connecting doorway was a curtained corner with a chamber pot. Along the passageway bulkhead was an anchored washstand with pitcher and bowl. A few towels and washcloths were neatly stacked on shelves below it and there were cupboards above it for storage. To the right of the passageway door stood a roomy oak wardrobe lined with cedar. Near this was an enormous highboy and a low dressing table with hinged mirror. Below the porthole was Kathleen’s writing desk. Along each wall lamps were mounted, and a small table was bolted to the floor in the center of the room, circled by four chairs. In the far corner stood a small stove, an orderly stack of cordwood next to it. A rocking chair sat in front of the stove on a colorful little rag rug.

  The room had been redesigned by Kathleen for her own comfort. The bunk was extra wide, with a comfortable mattress. Turned down over a blue coverlet was the eiderdown quilt Kathleen’s mother had made for her. Curtains to match the coverlet hung over the porthole. Because the cabin was used by other passengers when she wasn’t sailing, only two of the desk and dresser drawers could be opened without the key that only Kathleen carried.

  Now Kathleen unlocked the drawers and her trunk. She shoved her reticule with her money into a desk drawer along with her jewel case and relocked the drawer. She hung the key on a ribbon about her neck, and tucked it between her breasts. Closing her door, she hurried back on deck.

  The frigate had already raised anchor and was heading out of the bay. The wind-filled sails reminded Kathleen of huge clouds. Men were scurrying about setting sails and performing other necessary tasks.

  “I feel so useless just standing here,” she mused, allowing herself a moment of self-pity. “I should be up there on the bridge with my hands at the wheel.” Automatically she raised her eyes to the upper sterncastle.

  He was standing there, feet planted firmly apart, hands on the wheel, his head thrown back surveying the sails. As if her look was a physical touch, he lowered his head and saw her standing below him at the rail. Blue eyes caught emerald in a long, curious gaze until she turned away to watch Ireland’s coastline grow smaller in the distance, finally fading away altogether. Now, in every direction, all to be seen was the deep blue of the sea melting into the lighter azure of sky.

  Reed stood on the bridge and watched Kathleen. Somehow, with just a glance, this girl had the power to unnerve him. Her tall, lithe frame, her emerald eyes, the upturned nose. Or was it her stubborn chin; the tilt of her head, or the way she unconsciously squared her shoulders? Something about her disturbed him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was positive he didn’t like the feeling.

  “Lady Haley; Kathleen is what Kirby had called her,” he mused. “Probably nothing more than a beautiful spoiled brat used to having men fall at her feet and beg for her favors. Well, Lady, here is one man who won’t. What a jolt it will be for you to find your title doesn’t mean a thing in Savannah!” Still, he had to admit she was a beauty. “A raving beauty!” Her red-gold hair was glistening in the sunlight and the wind was catching loose tendrils from her coiffure. He wondered how long it was when unbound and flowing down her back.

  “And a beautiful ivory back it would be, too.” He drew himself up short, scolding himself for letting his mind wander off on such a ridiculous tangent. “Besides,” he told himself, “she has brought good old faithful Nanna to keep the wolves at bay.” With a terse laugh, he turned the wheel over to the quartermaster and headed for the hold.

  Chapter 2

  THE sound of Reed’s laughter jolted Kathleen out of her reverie. She waited until he descended into the hold, then made her way to her cabin. “I’ll have plenty of time to freshen up before lunch,” she reasoned to herself. She passed Bobby in the passageway and asked him to bring her some fresh water as soon as he got the chance.

  Once in her cabin, she wandered to the door connecting with the captain’s quarters. Lifting the latch, she swung the door wide and stepped inside. Instantly a deep feeling of nostalgia swept over her. She sauntered about the room, stopping now and again to touch her father’s nautical instruments, his maps, his chair. She opened the wardrobe and suddenly it struck her that her father’s personal items were gone. Captain Taylor’s clothes hung there. His razor and mug lay on the shelf above the washstand. It was Reed’s trunk at the foot of the bunk.

  She was standing in the center of the room when the passageway door opened to admit Captain Taylor. Reed stopped in the doorway, his eyes as cold as steel. He was a formidable sight in his anger, his powerful body filling the doorway.

  Kathleen, taken aback, stood uncertainly for a moment. Then recovering from her surprise, she stepped toward the connecting doorway.

  “Just a moment, Lady Haley,” the captain commanded her, his voice deceptively mild. “I would like an explanation as to why you have entered my quarters. No one enters here without my express wishes.”

  Dumbfounded, Kathleen remained silent.

  “Well?” he pressed. “Have you come to steal me blind? Or perhaps,” he suggested, “you have thoughts of warming my bed.”

  At this Kathleen went scarlet and exploded, “On a cold day in hell I’ll warm your bed, you arrogant toad! Just who do you think you are to speak to me in such a manner?”

  “I am the captain of this vessel, in case you have forgotten, miss, and if that be the case, may I suggest you not forget again in future. You still have not answered my question.”

  Pushed beyond all restraint, she retorted hotly, “You, sir, may be the captain, but I am sole owner of this ship—a fact which may have slipped your notice. And might I suggest you not forget that little fact in future!” Again Kathleen headed for the doorway.

  Quick as a panther he blocked her path, his eyes gleaming with the light of battle. “So, you are the Kat of the Kat-Ann. How appropriate that you should have the slanting green eyes of a feline. Still, I am issuing you a warning not to return to this cabin uninvited. For if you do, you shall indeed share my bed, whether you are willing or unwilling.”

  With one swift move his arms encased her, pinning her arms to her sides. For a long moment he gazed intently into her startled green eyes. Then, lowering her head, he brought his warm, full lips to hers. She struggled to free herself from his hold, and kicked out at him ineffectually. Laughing deep in his throat, he merely increased the pressure on her mouth, and she felt his tongue forcing her lips apart. She gasped and his tongue slid into her mouth, moist and probing. Inside her she felt a warmth start in her stomach and progress downward. Through a daze she realized he was running one hand along her spine, while the other he had slipped into the low bodice of her dress and was gently caressing her breast. The nipple rose at his touch and he laughed again. He pressed her to him and through the thin material of her dress, she felt the bulge of his manhood. The contact sent a warmth coursing through her, and she moaned involuntarily. Never in her life had she been kissed in this manner, and her mind reeled as she fought for control over feelings she had never even imagined existed.

  He released her so suddenly she nearly lost her balance. Brought back to her senses, she drew back her arm and slapped him across the face with all her might. Darting swiftly past him, she ran into her cabin and quickly shut the door. I
nstantly the door flew open again. Reed gave her a long mocking look and said with a low laugh, “This door seems to be sadly missing a lock.” Then, as he closed it again, he added, “I’ll look forward to seeing you at lunch, Kat.”

  She quickly picked up the empty water pitcher and hurled it crashing at the door. It shattered into pieces on the floor. Her only regret was that it had missed his skull.

  Shaken and enraged, she threw herself onto the bunk and cried out furiously. “That big, overbearing, no-good arrogant Yankee!”

  A roar of laughter from the next cabin told her he had heard her through the wall. Then she heard the door slam and he was off down the passageway.

  When Kathleen had finally calmed down, she began to wonder where Bobby was with her water. Nor had she seen Nanna since they first came aboard. Her clothes were still in her trunk. “Nanna was so adamant about the dresses not getting wrinkled. I wonder what is keeping her?” she pondered.

  Rising from her bed, Kathleen straightened her gown and crossed to her dressing table. She smoothed her hair and studied her reflection in the mirror. “Good grief! I look like an old crow in black! I don’t care what anyone thinks, I refuse to wear these weeds any longer. Nanna will pitch a fit, but Papa would understand. He was proud of me, and would not want to see me looking like a withered old hag. Tomorrow I go back to colors again. Besides, mourning is a matter of the heart. It is inside of you, not worn on your sleeve or your back. My grief will not be less because I dress in lavender or white.”