“Well, there is one very exclusive place I’m thinking of. There is a back room where the gentlemen gather if they wish to drink and play cards. Sometimes gentlemen arrange meetings there with their mistresses.” Ted looked as if he were in severe pain.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ted! I know what goes on in a brothel, or at least I have a fair idea, and the idea of a man having a mistress is not news to me either. Don’t look so distressed! I know young ladies are not supposed to be aware of all that, but facts are facts! Do you suppose I don’t know why my father went to town every so often after Mother’s death? Even in the girls’ school in London there were stories. Several of the girls, all from prominent families mind you, had fathers who supported mistresses on the side. They tried to be discreet, of course, but everyone knew.”
“Oh, dear.” Ted sank into the nearest chair. “I’ve been raised to think of ladies as delicate, innocent creatures, and you are destroying all my illusions.”
Kathleen laughed at the confused picture he presented. “It is quite all right, Ted. Ladies usually are innocent and many times most ignorant of such things. Papa would have fainted if he realized I’d guessed where he went. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I wasn’t sure what went on once he got there, but I did know where he went. Most young women, for instance, realize they will share a bed with their husband when they marry, but haven’t the foggiest idea what goes on in that bed until the wedding night. We are left to wallow in our own ignorance and wonder about it, and believe me, we do our share of wondering and whispering.”
“I’d never realized ladies were curious about such things,” Ted mused.
“Perhaps we wouldn’t be if we were more enlightened.”
“I think I see your point.”
Kathleen sat down across from him. “Do you think you could take me to this place you mentioned?”
“Good God, no, Kathy!”
“Why not?”
“Everyone in town knows you. Why, we’re liable to run into the mayor or a half dozen of Savannah’s leading citizens!”
Kathleen’s smile was that of the cat that stole the cream. “I won’t tell on them if you don’t squeal on me! Don’t forget, Ted my lad, most of them wouldn’t dare let their wives know where they’ve been!” Her laughter was tinkling and somewhat evil, and her eyes gleamed with deviltry.
Ted couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time since coming back from Chimera he had heard her really laugh. “All right, but we’ll have to sneak out and back in. How are you going to do that with Eleanore sharing your room?”
“We’ll take her with us, of course,” Kathleen replied smugly. “She’ll just love it!”
Reed arrived in time for Thanksgiving. Only the Taylors and Bakers were present at the family dinner. He had wrongly assumed that Kathleen had had enough time to calm her anger. Throughout the meal she ignored him with frosty distain. When he asked her a direct question she answered him politely but curtly. By the time the meal was over he felt he had been seated near an iceberg.
When the men took their brandy and cigars in the study, he was told that she behaved in the same fashion to everyone. He thought they were joking as they related the events of the past two weeks and told him she was referred to as the ice queen.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but we are,” William assured him.
“But Kat is so vibrant, so alive!”
“You’ll see,” was their answer.
For a solid week Reed stayed with the Bakers, and not once could he find a crack in Kathleen’s frozen facade. He insisted on escorting her to the theater and opera and various parties. Kathleen did not resist him, neither did she encourage him. It was as if she didn’t care one way or the other. She remained distant, cool, and reserved. No longer did she laugh and tease with him. She seemed impervious to his attempts to arouse either her sense of humor or her anger. She was poised, polite, elegant, and beautiful, but emotionally as empty as a china doll—or so it seemed.
After a week of this new, unresponsive Kathleen, Reed threw up his hands in temporary defeat and sailed for Grande Terre. “It will be a short trip,” he told Kate O’Reilly. “I’ll be back two weeks before Christmas and I hope to God she has thawed by then. She’s driving me berserk! I’d rather have her swearing at me and throwing china at my head than the way she is now.”
Chapter 23
THE late afternoon was hazy, promising a foggy evening. Kathleen had given up her search for the Kat-Ann and was heading the Emerald Enchantress toward her glade when the lookout shouted down from the crow’s nest.
“Ship ahoy, Cap’n! Off the starboard bow!”
“Can you make her out?” Kathleen called.
“Aye! ’Tis the Kat-Ann, headin’ for Barataria I’d say.”
“Do we give chase, Cap’n?” Finley inquired.
Kathleen grinned rakishly. “Of course, Mr. Finley. Give the orders. Full sail and prepare for combat.”
It took a full three-quarters of an hour to overtake the Kat-Ann. They stayed to her stern, thus avoiding all but two of her guns. By the time they drew alongside, they were only a league from their secret hideaway. As the grappling lines were tossed, Kathleen caught a boarding line and swung herself across, nearly landing on Reed’s toes.
Reed, hands on hips, stared down at her with stormy blue eyes. “Are we to fight or dance, Emerald?” he taunted.
“Fight, of course, you big buffoon,” she answered saucily. Then she gave him a flirtatious look and asked, “Just the two of us again?”
“Why not?” he shrugged.
The crews watched as the two captains squared off and the duel began. Reed matched her blow for blow. He was at his best this day and more determined than ever. It showed in his eyes, and as the contest wore on, Kathleen felt her confidence waning as well as her strength. Steel rang on steel as they lunged and parried and counter-parried, and still Kathleen could find no hole in his defense.
A part of her mind registered the fact that the fog was becoming thicker, and the deck was becoming slippery with moisture. As the minutes passed, Kathleen found herself more and more on the defensive. For a split second Kathleen’s blade faltered, and suddenly she felt the tip of Reed’s blade at her slim neck.
Time stood still. Her wide green eyes held his in astonishment. Cautiously she backed up a step and allowed herself to swallow. A multitude of impressions implanted themselves on her consciousness at the same time. First she realized that even as she and Reed watched one another in stunned silence, the crew of the Enchantress had cut the grappling lines and were quietly slipping away. This did not anger her, as she had instructed them to save the ship and themselves if she were ever caught. She knew they would immediately hide the ship and wait to see if she could escape and join them or manage to send word.
She sensed, rather than saw, Dominique’s presence to her left. She felt the expectant stares of Reed’s crewmen as they awaited their captain’s next move. She heard her heartbeats thundering in her ears as she stared unblinking into his cool blue eyes.
At last she saw his eyes flicker with the light of victory. “At last!” he said in a near whisper. “At long last I have defeated you. I’ve waited a long time for this moment, my raven-haired piratess!”
His eyes flew to the rapier still hanging limply in her hand. “I’ll have your weapon now.”
Silently she turned it over to him, amazed to find that her hand was still steady. Tossing her head, she dared to say, “It is an empty victory, Captain Taylor. What have you to show for your efforts?” With a wave of her hand she drew his attention to the missing frigate.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I should have liked to have had the ship, yes, but your hold was empty, was it not?”
At her nod, he added, “There is always another day for that. For now I have my cargo still safe, and I have defeated you.”
Under his powerful gaze she almost shuddered. He gave a short laugh. “What a bunch of
bilge rats you have for a crew, to go off and leave you to face the consequences alone! And you will face them, my lovely. You have much to pay for. ” He reached out to caress her cheek with his knuckles, laughing again as she drew away from him.
“No, no, my dear. You will have to accustom yourself to my touch. You have lost and I have won, and now we play the game my way. I shall call the tune now and you will dance to it, like it or not.”
Kathleen’s chin went up in defiance. “You’ll keep your hands to yourself if you mean them to remain attached to your worthless body, you braying ass!”
“Feisty wench, aren’t you! Let’s have a look at the nasty lady behind the mask.” Reed made a grab for her mask and Kathleen backed away, only to find her back to the sternrail and Reed’s rapier still aimed at her neck. From the corner of her eye she saw the waves far below, almost invisible in the thick, swirling fog. As Reed reached for her again, she braced herself against the rail, and bringing her feet up, planted both boots firmly against his chest. Before he could react, she pushed him back from her and launched herself in an almost impossibly graceful backward dive. In the blink of an eye she was beneath the waves and gone.
“Sweet Jesus!” Dominique swore. “Who would have thought she would try a fool stunt like that!”
He and Reed were hanging over the rail, trying to glimpse the woman through the fog.
“Can you see her?” Reed asked.
“Nay.”
“The fool wench probably broke her neck.”
“A pity, too. She was a fine piece,” one of the crew added.
“God, what a waste,” another said.
“Damn!” Reed swore. “To think she’d risk death before she would show me her face! I simply don’t believe it!” Turning to Dominique, he asked, “Do you suppose she has a chance? We’ll never find her in this fog.”
Dominique was fighting nausea. He felt as if his chest was caving in, his breath coming in short gasps. All he could do was pray for a miracle. How could he tell Reed? What could he say? Better yet, what should he say? By her own actions, Kathleen had said she would rather die than have Reed discover her identity. Swallowing hard, Dominique decided to keep her secret and pray she found her way to safety somehow. He decided he would talk Jean into a trip to Savannah for the holidays. Maybe by then something would have happened; some miracle, for that is what it would take.
Aloud he said, “I don’t think the odds are very good, my friend, but I hope so.”
If Reed had known the pirate Emerald was actually Kathleen, he would probably have had more faith in her survival, and he would have been right. She surfaced about twenty yards from the Kat-Ann’s stern. Instinct alone guided her, for the fog was too thick to allow her to sense direction. If not for the voices, she would not have known where the frigate was. She struck out with strong, even strokes, knowing only that she must keep far from the Kat-Ann and Reed. She paced herself. When she felt tired, she floated and rested, and then went on.
After a while Kathleen began to doubt she would make it. Her arms felt like dead weights, and her legs were numb with fatigue. She had removed her boots and tied them under her vest in order not to lose them, and now the weight was dragging her down. She considered releasing them, but hated to lose the last gift from her beloved father. She stopped to rest, treading water and trying to gather more energy from within. She peered through the fog, trying to determine where she might be. She was not so much frightened as she was tired—bone tired.
Suddenly, through an opening in the gray curtain about her, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a large dark shape to her left. Then the swirling mist closed about her once more. Straining her ears, she could barely distinguish the sound of waves lapping against a wooden hull. Then the distinct creak of a ship afloat reached her hearing.
Strengthened by renewed hope, Kathleen struck out with sure, silent strokes in the direction of the ship. What she would find when she reached it was anyone’s guess. Since she’d lost all sense of direction, it could be the Kat-Ann, or one of Jean’s fleet. Perhaps it was an English vessel or an American trader, or another pirate ship. She could only pray it was her crew searching for her, but at this point, even Reed’s face would be a welcome sight.
A long hundred yards later, Kathleen at last came alongside the ship. The familiar green hue of the hull sent a shudder of relief through her as her hand traced the familiar lines of the Enchantress.
All was dark and silent aboard, but she could make out the shadowy forms of her men. Dan was leaning forward against the rail, his head in his hands, and she could see Finley standing next to him.
Chuckling to herself and sincerely hoping she wouldn’t give poor Dan heart failure, she called up, “Hey, Finley! Get a move on and throw me a line!”
She wished she was close enough to see their startled faces as their heads snapped up in surprise.
“Cap’n?” Dan queried softly, as if fearing a ghost.
“And who else were ye expectin’?” She aped his brogue perfectly.
In the end, they had to pull her aboard, for she hadn’t the strength to climb the rope. Her crew rejoiced fervently over her escape, and Dan repeatedly praised every saint he could recall. When the initial shock was past, Kathleen let him order up hot bricks for her bed. Feeling she had endured enough excitement for a long while, she told Finley to take the helm and set sail for Savannah as soon as the fog and tide permitted. Then she dragged herself to her cabin, pulled on an old flannel nightgown, and snuggled down between warm sheets with a hot buttered rum for a nightcap.
By the time Kathleen got back to Savannah she had regained her normal sense of humor. She was more like the old Kathleen and less like the ice queen. In public, she remained aloof. Almost every evening, however, found her at the Golden Slipper with Ted and Eleanore.
Kathleen enjoyed gambling. She always set herself a loss limit and stuck to it, for she realized the dangers of gaming. To Ted’s surprise and her delight, she usually came away a few coins ahead. The club members still grumbled among themselves, but were gradually accepting her and Eleanore. The two women played seriously, which drew approval. The men were vastly relieved that they were not flighty, giggly and harebrained.
Although Kathleen tried each of the games at least once, she didn’t really care for fantan or baccarat, and an hour of dicing was her limit. She most enjoyed blackjack and faro, or a good game of euchre or poker.
Reed arrived three days ahead of schedule. Kathleen and Eleanore were Christmas shopping when Ted discovered them in the milliner’s and told them that the Kat-Ann was at the docks. The crew were full of news of good trading this trip, but mostly regaling others with tales of the fate of the daring lady pirate.
“General consensus is she is probably dead and dining with the devil by now,” Ted repeated.
Kathleen glanced ruefully at Eleanore and muttered, “She’ll probably be dining with him this evening, at any rate.”
“Undoubtedly,” Eleanore agreed with a grin.
That evening, much to Kathleen and Eleanore’s surprise, not only did they dine with Reed, but Jean and Dominique were there, too. A quick look passed between the five friends, and before Kathleen could collect her thoughts, Reed said, “I would like to introduce two friends of mine, ladies. This,” he said, indicating Jean, “is Mr. John Lafferty, and the other gentleman is Mr. Donald Alexander.”
Kathleen’s eyes twinkled with impish delight as she caught their imploring glances, especially Reed’s. Jean was his usual impeccable self, but Dominique was a delight. He had exchanged his pirate garb for excellently tailored clothing. His dark hair had been neatly trimmed, as well as his beard and mustache. To Kathleen, he looked almost naked without his weapons and earring.
Kathleen choked back a giggle and curtsied politely. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.” She noted that Dom seemed extremely relieved to see her alive and well.
Dinner went well, considering. Eleanore gravitated immediately to Jean’s
side and Reed was besieged by Amy. Kathleen, much to Reed’s dismay and anger, seated herself next to Dominique and paid him an extraordinary amount of attention.
Dinner had just ended when the butler entered to announce Charles’s arrival. Chaos reigned for a few minutes as everyone tried to determine who they were supposed to be acquainted with previously, or not, as the case demanded, and whom to call what. It was so laughable that Kathleen wore an ummanageable grin throughout, and nearly burst into fits and giggles each time she glimpsed the humor in Eleanore’s huge brown eyes.
As large as the Baker’s house was, there still was not enough room for all the extra holiday guests—the Bakers and Taylors, Eleanore and Charles, and the two new arrivals too. For the evening Reed would return to the Kat-Ann with Jean and Dom. Better arrangements would be made on the morrow. As usual, after the house settled down, Kathleen made her nightly pilgrimage to the Golden Slipper.
The next day Eleanore moved to the hotel with her brother. She and Charles shared a suite next to Jean and Dominique. Eleanore promised she would see Kathleen often, but Kathleen knew most of her friend’s time would be spent with Jean.
In the afternoon Kathleen sneaked away and met Dominique just outside town and took him to meet Kate. They spent the day with her, and it was almost dark by the time Kathleen stabled Zeus once more.
As she passed the library door, it flew open and Reed stood glowering down at her.
“It’s about time you got back. Where have you been all day?”
“I’ve been visiting Kate, not that it is any ot your business!” she retorted, flipping her copper hair from her face.
“Oh, but it is my business, my love.” Then his eyes narrowed dangerously. “I can easily check on your story, you know.”
“Go right ahead. In the meantime, would you mind removing yourself from my way? I must dress for dinner.”
Fire and Ice Page 39
