Shadows of Love

by Gail MacMillan

  “Ah, no,” he said, his expression evil in the half-light of the dirty lantern. “When you spun so charmingly on me a moment ago, I saw something more valuable and more easily disposed of on your pretty person. I want the diamond-and-sapphire ring you’re wearing as a wedding band. Obviously it means little to you or you wouldn’t be here with this whoremaster. Hand it over, dolly, and you may stay warm this night.”

  “You despicable little cur!” I spat, my fingers tightening on the gun. “I love my husband!”

  He shrugged and made a move as if to plunge the knife into Barret’s belly.

  “No!” I tore the glittering ring from my finger. With an oath of contempt, I flung it across the plank floor into a dark corner, where it winked tauntingly up at me from among the filth.

  “That was wise, dolly.” The weird little man lowered the scalpel. “Now take him and get out. He’ll be vomiting soon—they all do—and I don’t want him fouling my surgery.”

  ****

  We entered the King’s Inn by the same rear entrance we’d used to flee the hotel two hours earlier and were able to make our way unobserved to Barret’s room. As we reached his bed, the last of his strength deserted him and he tumbled onto its covers with a deep groan.

  “Barret…”

  “Take my clothes off, angel,” he muttered. “Get me into bed before I catch pneumonia. I’ve got to get better in time to make that January voyage for Abe.”

  With strength I would not have believed I possessed, I managed to roll him out of his greatcoat and get his head upon the pillows. Except for a heavy swath of bandages about his chest and shoulder, he was naked to the waist. We’d left his blood-soaked shirt in the surgery.

  “Now my boots and pants,” he instructed. “Get me under the blankets.”

  I pulled off his boots, then hesitated.

  “It’s all right, my love,” he said, looking up at me with feverish eyes. “Unbuckle my belt and open my trousers. I’m too cursed weak to be aroused.”

  I put my fingers to his bare waist and opened the buckle. Shortly I had him naked and beneath the blankets.

  “Thank you.” He pulled the blankets to his throat and shuddered.

  “You’re cold,” I said, and went to the fireplace to build up the flames languishing there. When it was blazing I returned to the bed.

  “Barret, don’t die. Please don’t die…not now…when we’ve finally found each other.” I caught his hand and pressed it to my cheek.

  “Starr, I’m a little drunk and a bit off center with pain, but I have to talk to you,” he said, his voice barely above a rasping whisper, his eyelids heavy. “You and I have walked on dangerous ground this night. We’re attracted to each other much too strongly. We must not allow ourselves to hurt Colin. We have to…to kill the feelings between us before we do something we’ll regret.”

  “Barret, I feel warm and safe when I’m with you,” I blurted, rash from raw nerves and fatigue. I put a hand to his clammy cheek. “To fall into your arms and let you hold me and—”

  “No!” he barked, struggling up on an elbow and away from me, his eyes bloodshot, sweat beading his face and chest. “Remember Colin! And go…now!”

  Seeing the wisdom in his words, I turned and fled. I caught a cab and returned to the academy in a predawn darkness as black as Gethsemane and nearly as disheartening.

  Mrs. Lambert seemed satisfied that my disheveled appearance was simply the result of a night of conjugal activity, but she clucked her tongue as I scurried past her and up the stairs to my room.

  “And I thought Colin Douglas was a gentleman,” I heard her mutter.

  Once alone in my room, I shed my clothing, pulled on a nightgown, and scrambled into bed. There I lay curled up in a fetal position, trembling, shivering, realizing my life was a shambles. I was married to a dear, sweet man who’d been nothing but kind and generous to me, yet I was hopelessly and forever in love with his best friend.

  ****

  Colin came to the academy at 10:00 a.m. the next morning. His expression was one of deep concern.

  “Barret was shot late last night,” he said softly when Mrs. Lambert had finally left us alone. “He won’t elaborate on the circumstances. They’re not important anyway. What matters is that my friend is very ill. Will you come with me while I see to his care? I’ll understand if you refuse. Visiting a wounded man is hardly an ideal way to spend Christmas morning.”

  “Of course I’ll come,” I said. Although I was plagued with guilt, I desperately wanted to see Barret again.

  With Colin’s promise to return later in the day to play for the inmates of the academy, Mrs. Lambert allowed me to go with him, ostensibly for a holiday luncheon.

  My husband hurried me out to the waiting cab and we drove in haste to the inn.

  ****

  “Barret?” Colin moved to the bed, and the man lying there with quilts up to his waist opened his eyes. They were bloodshot and glazed, a day’s growth of dark stubble covering the lower portion of his face.

  “Colin.” He tried to pull himself up on his pillows. “Merry Christmas, my friend.”

  “How are you?” my husband asked.

  “Sore as hell.” The captain grimaced. “But I’ll be ready to sail within a week. I have to make that voyage to London. If I don’t, Abe won’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting that mail contract.”

  “Forget the contract and London,” Colin said. “Rest and get well.”

  “You’re a good friend, Colin, but not much of a businessman.” Barret rolled on one side and took a small flask I recognized from his nightstand. With a shaking hand, he raised it to his lips. He swallowed some of the reddish-brown liquid, then fell back onto the pillows, breathing hard.

  “How much of this have you taken?” Colin picked up the container and frowned at its depleted contents. “You always said a person should be very careful of this concoction.”

  “I’m in a deal of pain, brother,” Barret muttered, closing his eyes. “Don’t preach. Not now.”

  “Very well. If that’s what you want. Now, look. I’ve brought Starr for a visit.” Colin tried to lighten the mood. “She was concerned when she learned of your accident. She’s brought you a basket of food.”

  “That’s kind of you, Mrs. Douglas.” Barret rolled his head in my direction, aware of my presence near the door for the first time. “But what I really need is someone to help me from this damned bed for other bodily functions. I tried to get up earlier but passed out in the attempt.”

  “Perhaps you should leave, Starr.” My husband flushed to the roots of his hair. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Good day, Captain. I wish you a happy Christmas and a swift recovery.”

  When my husband rejoined me, he sat down by my side with a shame-faced grin.

  “Forgive Barret his crudeness,” he said. “I’m afraid he’d taken too much laudanum to be aware that he was offending a lady. I’ll send you back to the academy in a cab. I’ll rejoin you shortly, but at present I must fetch a reputable doctor for Barret. Last night he went to the only surgeon in town who takes late-night patients without asking questions. I suspect he got that wound in a fight over a lady and didn’t want to tell anyone who might make report of the circumstances to the authorities,” he said, lowering his voice. I shifted in my seat. “The man who attended him is little better than a butcher. His wound was crudely treated.”

  “But won’t this doctor you’re about to fetch ask questions?” I asked.

  Colin shook his head. “He’s a good man. The welfare of his patients always comes before his curiosity. I’ll order you a cab. The sooner I take care of Barret, the sooner we shall be free to go on our Christmas sleigh ride.”

  He took my hand, raised it to his lips, then stopped. “Starr, where’s your ring?”

  “Ring?” For a moment I was aghast. But it was only for an instant. Then, turning actress like my mother, I gasped, in well-feigned dismay, “Oh no! I’v
e lost it! It must have come off when I removed my gloves.” Hot shame burned me as I mouthed the lie.

  “Love, don’t look so distressed,” he made me further despise myself by replying. “It was a gaudy bauble. Tomorrow I’ll buy you a string of pearls I saw in a shop on Barrington Street. They’re much more tasteful than that ostentatious sapphire Barret and my father insisted I purchase for you.”

  “Captain Madison helped you choose the ring?”

  “I’d never purchased jewelry for a lady, and I asked him to help me with the selection of your gift.” He grinned nostalgically. “Barret has been with me the first time I did almost anything important. I had my first sea voyage aboard a ship under his command. He taught me sailing and navigation. He showed me how to take the best advantage of the slightest breeze. He also taught me to ride.” He smiled reminiscently. “He and Ben Smith took the place of a father too involved in his business to have time for an incompetent son.” He paused, then chuckled. “I made my first visit to a tavern in Barret’s company. He nursed me over the brawl I got into that night and the hangover the next morning. I smoked my first cigar in his company, and…”

  He hesitated.

  “And had your first lady?”

  “No! Starr, I swear to you I never…”

  “It’s all right, Colin. I never expected to marry a celibate man.”

  “Starr, please! Because Barret has known a lot of women and I’m his friend, it doesn’t mean I‘ve been like him in that way.”

  “Hush,” I soothed, rising. “Go and get a doctor for your friend. I’m eager to be off on our sleigh ride.”

  ****

  On New Year’s Eve, Colin and I had been invited to attend a ball held in honor of the governor of the province. I was delighted. There would be music and dancing, and I would have an opportunity to wear a new gown I had recently acquired. I would also wear the beautiful strand of pearls which had replaced the sapphire ring.

  On the night of the ball, I was astonished to discover Captain Madison had come with Colin to escort me. His recovery had either been swift or he was strong in conquering his pain. As I descended the stair, both men arose from where they had been seated in the parlor with Mrs. Lambert. Colin, handsome in evening attire, came to me as I reached the foot of the steps, his face bright with admiration.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, taking my arm and kissing my cheek. “That peach-colored gown is perfect with the pearls. Barret?” He turned to the captain. “Isn’t my wife beautiful tonight?”

  “Tonight and every night,” he said, coming to join us. “If you haven’t already noticed her loveliness, you must be blind, sir.”

  “Let me assure you, Captain, I’m far from sightless,” Colin retorted. “I often see things I believe you’d rather I didn’t.”

  Was Colin referring to the captain’s interest in me? I couldn’t bear it if my husband discovered the truth. Glancing at the ship’s master, my heartbeat quickened. Captain Barret Madison in evening attire was a charismatic man, a man who would forever be at the center of my heart.

  I tried not to recall our mutual confession of love, but failed. I longed for him, wanted him with body and soul. Every day without him was a burning torment I would have to bear for the rest of my life.

  “I’ll get your wrap.” Colin brought me back to the present.

  “I’ll show you where it is, Mr. Douglas,” Mrs. Lambert, always eager to have Colin to herself, volunteered.

  As the captain and I waited alone in the foyer, I turned to him.

  “Why did you come with Colin? It can only make things worse.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “But you need protection.” He flashed open his coat and I caught a glimpse of the small pistol secreted in an inner pocket.

  “Surely that’s not necessary.”

  “Surely it is,” he replied. “Have you forgotten Christmas Eve?”

  “No, but…”

  “Hush.” He stopped me. “Here comes Colin.”

  ****

  During an intermission midway through the evening, the orchestra leader came over to where Barret, Colin, and I were seated. His round, bright face was flushed with pleasure as he stopped before us.

  “Herr Colin Douglas, is it not?”

  “Yes, sir.” Colin stood and bowed. “This is my wife, Starr, and my good friend Captain Barret Madison, master of the Maris Stella. Please join us.”

  “Forgive my boldness in approaching you, Herr Douglas,” the maestro said, as he accepted my husband’s offer and Colin signaled a waiter to bring more champagne. “But I heard you play in Vienna last year. I was deeply impressed. Tonight, when I saw you here, I thought to myself, ‘Wilhelm, you must ask that young man to play with your humble orchestra. It would be a rare and wonderful experience for this assemblage to hear such genius in command of a piano.’ ”

  “You’re very kind.” Colin flushed at the praise. “But I haven’t practiced in some time. I’m afraid these good people might be disappointed by my performance.”

  “Never!” The maestro was emphatic. “Yours is a great gift. It does not diminish. Please. I would be most grateful.”

  “Go ahead,” Barret urged him. “You know you’d enjoy having an audience again.”

  Colin hesitated only a moment longer. Then he stood.

  “Excellent, excellent.” Wilhelm Kroisenbacher beamed. “Come, come, I will introduce you.”

  With a resignedly good-natured shrug to Barret and me, Colin straightened his cravat and smoothed his vest. “I hope I don’t embarrass you,” he said.

  “You won’t,” Barret assured him.

  A few moments later we watched as Maestro Kroisenbacher returned to the dais and tapped the podium with his baton. When all was quiet, he cleared his throat and spoke.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” He beamed. “I am most honored and privileged to present to you, as a special guest pianist, a young man who was the toast of Vienna before he was yet twenty years of age. I give you Herr Colin Douglas, the most gifted and unique young musician I have ever been fortunate to encounter.”

  A light sprinkling of applause accompanied Colin as he joined the maestro and bowed first to the assemblage, then to the orchestra. These people did not know Colin’s talent and were expecting a performance inferior to the one they had been enjoying under the baton of Herr Kroisenbacher. They possibly knew of Colin as his father’s son, a young man involved in shipbuilding, timber export, and international trade. They probably imagined Herr Kroisenbacher had turned his piano over to him only in hopes of securing a large financial contribution from the Douglas enterprises to help support his group of itinerant musicians. Wealthy patrons were courted by men of the arts.

  The orchestra leader smiled, nodded, then conferred softly with his musicians as Colin seated himself at the piano. I waited breathlessly as my husband got the attention of the orchestra. Then he put his fingers to the keyboard and the first notes of a famous waltz filled the ballroom.

  In a matter of seconds the entire group was mesmerized by my husband’s masterful performance. Transfixed by the genius of the handsome young musician, the guests made no move to dance. Instead they listened with rapt attention.

  “Come.” Barret took my hand and drew me to my feet. “We must dance. We’re unlikely to get such perfect accompaniment again.”

  “He’s wonderful,” I breathed, as we glided out across the dance floor, my full skirts swishing softly in time to the melodic sounds.

  “He’s a genius,” Barret said matter-of-factly.

  I wondered what Abraham would think of the son he’d dubbed a failure if he could see him at that moment. Holding an audience spellbound with his music, Colin Douglas was a tremendous success. I could only conclude Herr Kroisenbacher had spoken the truth when he’d called my husband the toast of Vienna.

  The music took a sweeping upbeat. Barret swung me gracefully about until my skirts billowed and my feet barely touched the floor. His arms strong and possessive about me, the pulse
of the romantic music surging in my soul, I was overcome by the rightness of it. I closed my eyes to the crowd watching us. There was only the exquisite beauty of the music and the erotic sense of Barret’s lean, powerful body tantalizingly close to mine. The excitement of the moment and several glasses of excellent champagne erased the inhibitions of reality.

  A gush of cold air on my skin made my eyes fly open to discover Barret had waltzed me out onto the dark, glassed-in side porch of the manor. Unheated and without lamps or candles, the sunroom brought a shiver washing over me.

  Barret had obviously planned this move, for once we were out of sight of those in the ballroom he flung my cloak about my shoulders. He’d had it ready on a chair. Then he drew me into his arms.

  “I’m sailing at dawn,” he said, kissing my hair. “I had to see you alone one last time.”

  “No!” I pulled away from him and put my fingers to his lips.

  “Hush, my love.” He stilled my outburst. “I must go. And even if I didn’t, what is there for me here? I would have to go on loving you, watching another man share your life. Another man I call my friend, my brother. No, sweet angel, it’s best I go and let the fates decide my future.”

  “Barret, come with me now!” I was desperate, wild, impetuous. “We’ll go to an inn where no one knows us! We can have one night, one magic night…” Half-mad with despair, I gripped his arms and begged.

  “Angel, don’t. I’m only flesh and blood. If you weren’t a little drunk, and if I didn’t respect you for the wonderful woman you are, if I didn’t love Colin, and if I didn’t know how you would loathe us both in the morning…”

  He caught me in his arms and crushed me against him so savagely it seemed he was trying to merge our two bodies into one. Then he released me, kissed my forehead, and strode off into the darkness.

  I was cold, so cold not all the feather quilts and hearth fires on earth could make me warm. I turned and fled back into the ballroom.

  As I rushed through the open doors, I collided with my smirking sister-in-law.

  “Well, well, little sister,” she smiled slyly. “Giving our commodore a warm send-off, were you? Generous of you, I’m sure, but I’m not certain our father-in-law would view it in the same way.”