I flushed. I guessed the unspoken message in my father-in-law’s instructions. I was to rest before another night of arduous lovemaking.
To keep Marie from seeing my embarrassment, I looked down at the tray she’d brought me. It was heavy with roast beef, vegetables, breads, tea, tarts, and even oranges and raisins. In the center was a bouquet of blue violets.
“The flowers are from Monsieur Colin,” she explained. “He is working at his father’s offices in the village today. He sent a message to say he will be late getting home.”
“Thank you,” I said. “He’s very thoughtful.”
“You may wish a bath before Monsieur Colin arrives,” she continued. “After you have eaten, I will prepare one for you, if that would suit you.” She turned to leave, but I stopped her.
“Thank you for your assistance this afternoon, Marie,” I said. “I should have made some unfortunate mistakes without it.”
“I enjoyed helping, Madame,” she replied with a shy smile. “It reminded me of the time when Madame Christiana, Monsieur Colin’s mother, was alive. She was a wonderful woman. We all loved her dearly.”
Later, while I waited for Marie to prepare my bath, I strolled downstairs and out onto the verandah. The evening was warm and tender. I looked out over the village basking in the last rays of the sun and thought how peaceful it all appeared. Crude and rudimentary though it was, Pine represented a fresh beginning, offering a second chance to people like me. When its rough edges were smoothed away, this little village would be a fine new community free of the Old World prejudices of race, religion, and social position.
A number of ships rode at anchor on the river’s calm surface; several more, including the Maris Stella, were tied up docksides. Five more partially built vessels lined the shore. No wonder Abraham Douglas was insistent on the success of his windjammers. He had a fortune invested in them.
As I was returning to Colin’s room, I met Marie in the foyer.
“Your bath is ready, Madame,” she said. “I scented it with violets. Madame Christiana always enjoyed their fragrance.”
Inside Colin’s room, I locked the door and unbuttoned my dress. Feeling uninhibited and sensuous, perhaps inspired by the perfection of the evening and luxury of my surroundings, I doffed my clothing and confronted my naked self in Colin’s cheval glass.
I saw a shapely young woman with loosened, honey-colored curls falling over the smooth white shoulders of a body with an overall creamy complexion. Rested, clean, and well fed, I was not an unattractive woman.
Confident I would not repulse my husband and swinging my hips in an imitation of Meg the barmaid’s sultry walk, I strolled toward the closed bathroom door. I pushed it open, sauntered inside…and froze.
Submersed in suds, a cigar in one hand, a drink in the other, Captain Madison sat in my tub staring unblinkingly at my nakedness.
“Good evening, Mrs. Douglas,” he said. “This is a surprise.”
For a moment I was too shocked to move. Then I snatched a length of toweling linen from a shelf and flung it about me.
“What are you doing here?” I spat out the words. “This is my husband’s room.”
“Unlike the rest of the Douglas clan, I don’t have a private bath.” He took a pull on his cigar before continuing. “Since sharing Abe’s, or Randall’s and Caroline’s, appeared inappropriate, Colin and I decided I should have the use of his. You might say I have priority over you, since I was here first.”
“Get out!” I cried, as outrage replaced embarrassment. “That’s my tub and my water. Marie prepared it for me!”
“As you wish, milady.” He started to rise.
“Oh!” I gasped and swung away to flounce back into the bedroom.
When he joined me a few minutes later, I wore my coarse woolen dress over my naked body and was sitting in a chair near the window. I pretended to ignore him, but he circled to stand before me, clad in closely fitting trousers, a towel draped over his broad, bare shoulders.
“Next time you feel the need to bathe, please inform me,” I said crisply. “If we must share our bath with you, you must give notice of your intentions.”
“That seems fair,” he replied with cordial civility. “We wouldn’t want to end up in that tub together.” His gray eyes twinkled wickedly.
“Get out! Just get out!”
“Of course.” He bowed and went to the door. There he paused and glanced back at me. “But I must tell you that, naked, you’re quite beautiful. Colin Douglas is a lucky boy.”
****
He’d said I was beautiful, “quite beautiful” to be exact. As I slid between the cool, fresh sheets of my husband’s big featherbed, I found myself basking in the implications of his comment. Perhaps I was attractive to men. Barret Madison was a man of the world. I was probably only one of any number of women he’d seen in a state of undress. Perhaps in time Colin might also find me “quite beautiful” as well.
I was still speculating on this aspect of my marriage when the door opened and my husband entered. In the light of the single lamp I had left burning on a bedside table, he forced a tired grin and began to open his cravat. I had been planning to question him about deceiving his father that morning, but when I saw his haggard face, his linen shirt stained with perspiration and grime, I could not find it in my heart to reproach him. Freshly bathed, my hunger sated by fine food, I sat ensconced in his luxurious bed, my mended chemise a poignant reminder of my recent past and only recently possible future. He was responsible for my comfortable state; he did not deserve to be interrogated.
“You smell wonderful,” he said, bending to touch his lips to my forehead. “Marie knows I’m partial to the scent of violets. I’ll wager she put some in your bath. I must thank her. And speaking of my favorite fragrances, did you receive my flowers?”
“Yes.” I tried to forget the fact that Marie had had to scent a second tub, and why. “Both you and Marie are kind and thoughtful. Colin, are you unwell? You look exhausted.”
“It’s been a long, hot day, and I’m still trying to shake a deuce of a hangover,” he replied. “Don’t concern yourself.”
“There’s a tub of water prepared for you,” I said, still struggling to push the earlier presence of Captain Madison from my mind. “Once you’re bathed, you’ll feel better.”
“Perhaps,” he said with a wan smile.
Stripping off his shirt, he went into the bathroom and closed the door.
Twenty minutes later he emerged freshly shaven and bathed. He wore a maroon silk dressing robe, below which his feet and legs were bare. His muscular, naked chest was visible through its half-open front. As he paused to look out the window into the balmy night, I thought, Tonight we will be lovers.
But when he turned and came to the bed, his expression was grave and strained.
“Starr,” he said sitting down on its edge and taking my hand. “We must…talk. I…I can’t consummate our marriage.”
“Why?” What is he saying? What have I done? Captain Madison said I’m quite beautiful “Am I…that repugnant to you?”
“Sweet Starr.” He touched my cheek. “Of course you’re not. You’re one of the loveliest women I’ve ever seen. Most men would risk life and limb for the privilege of making love to you. But I…can’t. You see, until recently, there was someone else…and it’s still too soon…”
He lowered his head, shaking it in confusion. I swallowed hard. I should have guessed a handsome, wealthy young man like Colin Douglas would not have been unattached.
“It’s all right, Colin.” Tears blurred my image of him. “I understand.”
“Thank you,” he breathed, raising his head to look at me, his eyes also moist. “Even though you don’t. Not really.”
For a few moments we sat in silence. Then I could hold back the question no longer.
“Why did you perpetrate that hoax with our sheets this morning? Why didn’t you simply tell your father the truth? Surely he’d understand.”
“
You don’t yet know my father, Starr,” he said, his expression hardening. “He thinks a man can assert himself with a woman as easily as a stud stallion covers a brood mare. Forgive my coarseness, but I cannot think of a better analogy.”
“You could never be coarse, Colin.” I looked up into his sensitive young face. “You’re a gentleman like Darcy.”
“You really do smell wonderful,” he repeated. His tone was once more warm and gentle. “That fragrance reminds me of my mother.”
“Marie told me it was her favorite scent. She’s taking care of me, just as you asked.”
“She’s a good person,” he said. “I’ve been fortunate in the women who’ve come into my life.”
“Who is the girl in the picture on your desk, Colin? Is she another woman you’ve been fortunate to know?”
“Yes,” he replied. “She was an Austrian opera singer, perhaps one of the finest in the world, until she married my father and gave up her career to come to live out her life as another of his chattels.” The bitterness arose again in his voice as it always seemed to when he spoke of his father. ”She died last autumn.”
“Your mother,” I breathed. “Colin, I’m sorry.”
“She taught me music and German and any other worthwhile accomplishments I may possess.” There was a catch in his voice.
“Those books on your shelves…they’re written in Austrian?” I asked.
“German.” He managed a shaky smile.
“And the music on your desk?”
“I play piano and guitar.”
“You’re very like Darcy, talented and sensitive.” I touched his cheek with a growing sense of sincere affection. “I could love you, Colin Douglas.”
“No, Starr.” He caught my fingers and kissed them. “Don’t.”
“But, Colin, we’re married! We must give ourselves a chance to…”
“My mother allowed my father to consummate their union,” he retorted, turning away. “All it brought her was two disappointing children and a possessive, ruthless husband who had no time for her except in bed. For years he kept me from her, from music, from all we both loved. He sent me away to school in Scotland, along the Clyde River, that I might learn shipbuilding as well as academic subjects.
“When I returned, he put me into his lumber camps, chopping trees for fifteen hours a day, and freezing in subzero temperatures.” He got to his feet and went to stare out the window, his back to me. “Finally I became so ill he was forced to bring me home.
“It was early spring. I had fallen into a half-frozen river during a log drive. I could barely breathe when they brought me back to this house. My mother, who had never been strong herself, nursed me. She moved out of my father’s room and put a cot in mine, to be near me.” He paused and drew a deep breath before continuing.
“They had a terrible row over it, but for once she stood up to him.” He turned back to me, his face bright at the memory. “She wouldn’t let anyone, not even Randall, care for me in any way. She exhausted herself.” His tone softened.
“When I was finally back on my feet, she fell ill. In September, she died. If Barret hadn’t taken me to Vienna after her funeral and let me submerge myself for a time in the musical community there, I believe I would have died of misery myself.”
He covered his face with his hands. I jumped to my feet and went to put a comforting hand on his arm.
“Colin, I’m sorry, so very sorry.”
“Thank you.” He dropped his hands and looked down at me. “I know you are.” He put his hand over mine and bent forward to kiss me lightly on the forehead. For a moment we were silent; then I broke the spell and moved away.
“You said you went to Vienna with Captain Madison?”
“Yes,” Colin said. “He knew I needed to escape. Defying my father’s repeated orders to return home, we spent nearly six months there.” Colin squared his shoulders and led me to the bed to sit beside him.
“When we came back, early in April, Barret shouldered the blame for our escapade. As a reprimand, my father ordered him to carry immigrants aboard the Maris Stella on his next return voyage from England. It’s a cargo Barret despises, but refusing to do it would have resulted in his losing his position as Commodore of the Douglas Fleet and, quite possibly, his Master’s Ticket. My father is the magistrate for this area and, as such, holds considerable sway with the Court of Vice-Admiralty. On the day Barret sailed for England to carry out his penance, I met Darcy.” He took both my hands in his and smiled reassuringly. “But enough of me. Tell me about yourself, Starr.”
I hesitated. I had to decide what I could tell him now and what I’d best save for later when our relationship stood on firmer ground.
“Starr, please. I’d like to know more about my wife.”
“Of course.” I drew a deep breath and began.
He listened attentively, but when I told him of my mother’s death and of the overseer’s brutality, my voice breaking over the words, he drew me to him, against his broad, naked chest.
“No one will molest you again,” he murmured against my hair. “As God is my witness, no one will hurt Darcy’s girl again.”
To change the subject and not have to continue my narrative, which would have to include the story of my voyage, I recalled Caroline’s brutal accusations and decided I must ask Colin the reason for her attack.
“My father has made a strange but specific and legal will,” he explained. “His entire estate will go to the son who produces his first grandchild. As long as I didn’t marry, it appeared Randall and Caroline would be the winners. Quite frankly, I didn’t care. Then you came along, and suddenly Caroline has competition— competition she isn’t able to deal with. She and Randall have been married five years and there’s still no sign of an heir apparent. Although I know it’s difficult, please try to ignore her. She’s a grasping, nasty creature not worthy of your concern.”
He sounded so weary as he finished speaking that I looked up into his face.
“Have you had supper, Colin?”
“Supper was well past when I arrived home,” he said. “Father has a cardinal rule in this house. If one is late for a meal, regardless of the reason, that person goes hungry. Abe Douglas doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”
He grinned resignedly down at me, but I guessed he must be hungry. He’d eaten little breakfast and, since he had not come home at midday, probably no lunch.
“Then we’ll raid the kitchen.” I jumped from the bed and tugged at his hand. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know, Starr. Mrs. MacDonald, our housekeeper, keeps a tight inventory on foodstuffs.”
His hesitation did not give me pause.
“Oh, come on, Colin! Where’s your sense of adventure? If we’re caught, I’ll defend you to the death.”
“Well… Oh, all right.” He stood up, tightened his robe about him, and grinned. “Let’s go.”
****
Shortly we were back in the bedroom, a tablecloth filled with bread, fruit, and cheese slung over Colin’s shoulder. As soon as we’d closed the door behind us, we looked at each other, eyes bright with the comradeship of a shared mischief, and burst out laughing.
“We did it!” Colin laughed, flinging our booty onto the bed. “And look!” He drew a bottle of wine from inside the top of his robe. “I filched this while you were looking for a knife. Lord, I haven’t had such fun since…” His words trailed off, and he was suddenly solemn.
“Since when, Colin?”
“Since Darcy was alive,” he breathed. “Oh, dear God, why did I have to remember…”
“We’ll never forget him,” I said, a thick lump forming in my throat. “Remembering him isn’t wrong, but we mustn’t recall him with sorrow. He would want us to remember the happiness and laughter we shared with him, not the tears.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Of course. Now”—he forced a smile—“will you honor me by cutting the bread and cheese for this elegant repast, while I open the wine?”
&
nbsp; “I would be pleased to, sir.” I dropped him a mock curtsy.
“I need a corkscrew,” he said. “There’s one on Barret’s dressing table across the hall. He’s not in yet. I’ll dash over and get it.”
Picking up the bottle, he eased his way out of the room. Soon he returned with the corkscrew. His distracted shove at the door as he reentered, working at the bottle cork, failed to make it shut completely. I recall thinking I would close it when I had finished cutting the cheese, but I forgot a moment later when Colin pulled the plug from the bottle with a mighty pop and wine fountained out over the front of his robe.
“Oh, God!” he breathed. “Champagne.” We burst out laughing.
“Sweet Jesus!”
Our mirth ended as we whirled to the sound of his voice. Barret Madison had shoved the partly open door wide ajar and stood staring at us.
“Drinking again, Colin? Is making love to her so difficult you have to dull your senses to get to the business of it?”
“Damn you, Barret!” Colin’s face grew red. “Get out! You have no business in my…our bedroom.”
“Of course, young master,” Captain Madison favored him with a mocking bow. “A word of advice before I do. Don’t allow yourself to become inebriated. A man can get rough and crude, or at worst, unable to perform. Get your lady drunk; she did no less for you last night. A bedmate with a bottle of wine inside her loses all her inhibitions.”
“Get out, Barret.” Colin advanced toward the captain. “Starr and I aren’t impressed by your vulgar talk.” In front of Barret Madison, he stopped and sniffed. “Why do you smell like…?”
I caught my breath, horrified lest Colin recognize the violet scent of the bath the captain had stolen from me.
“Like a woman’s perfume?” Captain Madison interjected. “A most indecorous question, sir, but if you must know, I’ve been visiting Meg at the tavern. I daresay a bit of our evening lingers about my person. Now, I’ll take my leave and permit you two children the opportunity for a similar time of intimacy.”
He touched his forelock and withdrew.
“Blast him!” Colin exploded, banging the bottle down on his desk. “Sometimes he can be such a…”
Shadows of Love Page 9
