“Miz Francine—I’se surely glad to see ya. Docta Robert be glad, too.” With that, she left Francine to her thoughts.
Francine stared at the closed door, wondering what would happen to her now. She was tired, it was as simple as that, and Albert Ramsbotham’s offer had been a good one. She could have been secure and never known want again if she’d stayed to marry him. But, she told herself for the thousandth time, she could have that here, too. She was financially well off because of the lands and monies of her parents. But she wanted more. No matter how often she’d told herself that she didn’t, the fact remained that she did. She had spent too many lonely nights over the past years, crying for the comfort of someone to hold her, someone to love.
She’d hidden this well from those few who were close to her, but at night, when no one was there, her heart ached and her body yearned. She’d only shared her body and bed to get information, never for love. Not since her husband was alive had she given herself out of genuine affection and passion.
Francine sat silently as the candles died, leaving her alone in the darkness of Chatham’s study. She was strangely comfortable among the books and furniture, among the personal things of the only man she had loved since that terrible day, long ago, when she’d received word of her husband’s death.
Francine began to cry, as silently as the night itself. Eventually, she fell asleep in the large armchair, and did not hear Sean’s entrance into the house. Nor did she hear the next visitor, hours later, when he came into the study to stand there, candle in hand, looking at the woman who slept in his chair.
<><><>
“How soon do we go after Cornwall?” asked Robert Chatham. He had arrived home only minutes ago, and finding Francine asleep in his study, had gone to his bedroom where Sean was sleeping fully clothed on top of his bed. After Chatham had shaken his friend awake, they quickly got the preliminaries out of the way. Only the last details now remained.
“We’ll leave as soon as you say,” replied Sean. “When does he load his next supply delivery?”
“If I’m not mistaken, tomorrow. Tonight’s party was to cover up something.” Chatham shook his head. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that Kira’s death was a fake.”
“Then Cornwall does think she’s dead?”
“He celebrated!”
“We shall too, soon.”
“1 overheard one of his captains tell Cornwall that his ship would be ready to go upstream.”
“Don’t tell me he’s loading his own ships, then meeting the British?”
“Why not? It’s not unusual for ships to go upstream to take on cargoes at the plantations. Besides, it’s a hell of a lot safer than trying to sneak a British man-o’-war past Commodore Finch.”
“Damn!” Sean grunted, hitting his fist into his palm. “Finch was told to let any British ship through.”
“Cornwall didn’t know that,” smiled Chatham. “Besides it being safer, it’s easier. When his ship leaves the dock at Haven, it will be filled with enough supplies to load two ships. The captain will have the ship out of the harbor before dawn and back within two days. No one will realize the ship has gone and returned to its dock at the warehouses. Cornwall doesn’t even have to fill out a cargo manifest.”
“Then we’ll have to go after them tomorrow. I was hoping to catch a British ship in the bargain,” said Sean.
“Finishing off Cornwall’s rotten dealings will be good enough,” Chatham commented. Then he cleared his throat. “Tell me, what is between you and Kira?”
Sean raised his eyebrows, his expression changing from one of determination to one of affection.
“We will marry.”
“Wonderful!” cried Chatham, taking Sean’s hand in both of his.
“There’s someone waiting for you in your study,” Sean said.
“I know. When I saw her there I almost stayed, but I knew we had to speak first,” Chatham searched Sean’s face. “Do you think she’ll have me?”
“I don’t know, Robert, but she did tell me of how much she missed your humor,” he said with a smile. “Why she missed that, I couldn’t tell you.” Then Sean’s smile faded. “Go to her, Robert—talk to her!”
“You told me before you left that if I want something I should go after it, take it. I told you that was your way, not mine. That still holds true, my friend,” Chatham said, as he turned to leave the room. “Sleep here. All the other rooms are taken, I would imagine,” he added dryly, closing the door behind him.
Light began to brighten the study, teasing at Francine’s closed eyelids. She stirred, then arched her cramped neck, sitting up to stretch the muscles that had been held in one position for too long. Her eyes opened in a sleepy haze. She leaned back and sighed. She’d not meant to fall asleep—she’d wanted to wait for Robert to return. She knew she would not change her mind. She just wanted to see him. As the sleepy mist cleared from her eyes, she opened them fully.
“Oh!” she said, surprised at the sight that greeted her. Perched on the desk, staring at her, was Robert Chatham. “Robert, I fell asleep,” she said inanely.
“I love you, Francine.”
“Oh, Robert, no...” she said in a whisper.
“Do you know how beautiful you are? When the light first reached you, it seemed to bathe you in radiance. I love you,” he repeated.
“Robert, I can’t,” she heard herself say. She tried to will away the words that had come from her mouth but they were already spoken.
“Can’t or won’t? What are you afraid of, Francine? That you’ll become my servant? That I’ll demand too much from you? Or,” he said, as his voice became a low whisper that was barely audible across the small distance that separated them. “Or,” he repeated, “Are you afraid that I’ll always see past ghosts standing in the shadows?”
She stared at him, unable to tell him how she felt and how she loathed herself for what she was doing to him. And for what she must give up now.
“Good Lord, Francine, do you think any of that matters? I care not a whit for your past. I fell in love with you when you were with Benjamin Cornwall—or rather, I realized then that I loved you.” He turned from her to stare out the window.
“But you want children,” she said defensively.
He ignored her words as he continued. “I’ve grown to love Charleston, you see. This mission is my last. When Cornwall is arrested, I plan on settling here. There are many who need my help.”
“Robert—”
“Let me finish! I want you to stay with me. Francine, I want you here to help me, to share everything with me, so that we can live like ordinary people, forever,” he finished, as he continued to stare out the window.
Francine swallowed, trying to rid herself of the dryness clogging her throat. She walked to the window and put her hand tightly on Chatham’s shoulder. He covered it with his own, and the warmth and love he had for her broke the last barrier. She leaned her head on his back and began to cry.
“I love you, Robert. I’ll stay.” Chatham lifted her face to his. She stared into his clear blue eyes and wiped the tears that fell from them. Then their lips met, softly and tenderly.
They talked for hours after that, seemingly unable to exhaust any subject; they found more in common than Francine had ever hoped for.
After a while, Francine maneuvered the subject back to children, which was still the hardest thing for her to reconcile. To be married and childless appeared to be a form of punishment.
“I must be honest,” Robert told her softly. “I have always wanted children. It’s something I’ve often thought of. But my life with you at my side would be complete, even without children. It would not be a sacrifice. You must believe that.”
She did believe him. Her mind and her heart welcomed his words. She went into his arms and they embraced. She felt a desire she had long thought dead build in her, one she feared she would never feel again. After their kiss, Robert stepped back. He took her hand and without a single word, led her t
o her room.
In her room, he began to undress her, taking off each item of her clothing and kissing her silky bare skin. His gentle hands explored her body, as did hers when he too was finally naked and lying next to her. The smoothness of his skin, so cool to the touch, made her feel good.
They were like old lovers. There was no rush, no headlong plunge into the pleasures of the flesh. They lay next to each other, lost in time, touching, feeling, holding, kissing, until they knew each other intimately. Only then did Robert lift himself into the space Francine offered and gently enter her, slowly moving to her pace.
They moved rhythmically together, looking deeply into each other’s eyes and smiling at each other.
Francine felt it happen first; her passion rose to its zenith; her fingers dug into the taut skin of his back as her eyes opened wider, staring deep into his. He kept moving, never slowing, never speeding himself on his way. She knew that he held himself in control to give her the first peak of pleasure. Then, after her passion passed its heights, she urged him on.
Wave after wave of intense emotion flood her: tears of love and happiness fell from her eyes. She put her arms around his neck, pulling his lips to hers, kissing them, tasting them, and loving them.
Robert’s pace quickened, and deep within her came the response to her love. She pulled him tighter, holding him secure inside her as she whispered her love.
Her life had begun again.
CHAPTER 31
Kira felt strangely lethargic as she lay in bed, almost as if her mind had separated from her body. It was odd being in Charleston in Robert Chatham’s house rather than in Haven.
Turning her face to the window, she looked out at the slightly overcast morning sky. She was more uneasy now than she had ever been since her arrival home. She was feeling swept along on the tide of others’ desires, like a toy, being used because she was there.
But no more of that, she told herself firmly. She would do what she had promised herself when she first discovered her uncle’s duplicity. At the final moment, she would be there to see his face and extract her revenge. He would be bound, brought to trial and exposed for the murderer and traitor he was. Until then, she could not settle the rest of her life.
Last night’s argument with Sean was the reason for her unhappiness this morning. He’d told her that he was taking a detail of men to arrest her uncle in the act of supplying the British ships. Haven, because of its location on the Ashley River and because of the river’s depth at that point, was an ideal spot for outfitting a ship, even under the cover of night. All he had to do was wait until a British ship slipped past the harbor and went upriver to Haven.
“I want to go with you,” she told him.
“No!” he answered firmly, as he tried to evade further talk with a kiss. His body was against hers and the heat pouring through her thin nightdress threatened to overwhelm her. She was almost helpless in his arms, and their love grew stronger each day. Her mind and body became weaker each time he held her. But she refused to give in on an argument this way.
“I want to go to Haven with you,” she repeated hoarsely, trying to push him away. Sean sat back, looking at her for a long moment before he answered. He stroked her hair softly.
“We can talk about this once we find out when we are going after your uncle.”
“Sean, please. It’s important to me. I must be there!”
He stood and began to pace the room, and a few moments later he said evasively, “Let me think about it.”
She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. She would wait, but not for long. She opened her arms to him and he went into them. The kiss this time was slow and gentle. A kiss of love and tenderness without the passion of a moment ago.
When he left her, Kira thought about what his words had said and left unsaid. Her mind was made up, and she would be going, no matter what!
A gentle knock at her bedroom door pulled Kira away from her thoughts of last night and she smiled as Ruth entered.
“Mister Rouger asked me to tell you he is waiting breakfast on you.” Kira nodded and sat up. A wave of dizziness passed over her, but she took no notice of it. She was too happy to be seeing the face of her former slave and friend. They had talked much on the voyage from Annapolis, reviewing what had befallen each of them, and their old bond of friendship had returned even stronger than before. Ruth had given her approval of Sean, which Kira valued greatly.
Now, as Kira chose a day dress of white cotton, Ruth assisted her, just as she had in the old days. Kira reveled in Ruth’s gentle touch, the touch she’d missed more than she realized; when she was dressed, she hugged her friend again.
“When Haven is returned to me, you and Abraham will live there again,” she declared excitedly, but she noticed a strange expression cross Ruth’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asked quickly.
“When Master Cornwall is arrested, will your father’s will be good again?” Ruth asked. Kira nodded. “Then Abraham and I will be free?” Again Kira nodded. “Abraham and I have talked about this many times. We want our freedom badly. We want to make something of our lives. For our children.”
“Children?”
“I’m with child,” said Ruth and a shy smile slowly spread across her face.
“Oh, Ruth,” cried Kira, throwing her arms around her friend. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Abraham and I want a place of our own. We want to build and work the land.”
“I see. But... what about money?” Kira asked.
“We’re willing to sharecrop,” said the black woman. “Mister Wilkinson, near Summerville, he’s been doing that with lots of free slaves. They say it’s hard work, but at least they are their own masters.”
“No! I won’t hear of it!” cried Kira impulsively. “There’s the money my father left you in his will. And even if Uncle James has stolen all of it, when everything is settled, I will see you get it back. If not, or if it should take too long, you shall have some of Haven’s land!” she declared. “Ruth, I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
Behind tear-filled eyes, Ruth nodded. “I will talk to Abraham. It is up to him,” she explained, and when she saw the protest start on Kira’s lips, she interrupted. “Now, your man is waiting. Go down to him,” she ordered. Kira smiled and, shaking her head, she started for the dining room.
Sean was seated at the table beside Chatham; both men rose when Kira entered. She noticed that although Chatham seemed as usual, there was a tired expression in his eyes.
Sean went to meet her, kissing her softly on her cheek before escorting her to the chair.
“You look lovely this morning,” he said with a smile.
“I don’t feel lovely,” she responded, and watched as Sean expressed puzzlement, then understanding.
“I thought we settled that last night.”
“No, we didn’t. When are you going after my uncle?” At her words, Sean and Chatham exchanged glances, but neither replied.
“Sean, I will not be shut out of this!” she said icily. Before Sean could respond, Bella brought in the plates of food and set each in front of them. Quickly seeing the tension at the table, she left, closing the dining room door behind her.
“No one is trying to shut you out, Kira. We simply don’t know when yet.”
“When will you know?” she asked sarcastically. “After you’ve gone there?”
“What is really wrong with you?” asked Sean. His eyes softened, probing gently. The fork that she had filled with food remained suspended in mid-air as she returned his gaze.
“I have to be there! I have to! Otherwise everything that has happened will be wasted. He must see me and know that it is I who witnessed his end, I who finished him.” Then she took a bite of her food and chewed slowly, as she returned her defiant eyes to Sean.
“No!” he said emphatically.
“Why?”
“I want you safe. I’ve spent what seems like a lifetime running after you. I can still see William’s sword moving
to your heart. I will not have the woman I love exposed to more dangers.”
“I am not yours to order about! I am not your chattel! I will do as I please,” she cried angrily.
“Again, no. I almost ruined a mission for my country by putting you ahead of it. I used my influence and my information to make sure you were safe, to make sure I could find you!”
“Does that make me your slave? Your love, your desires—must they enslave me?” she retorted, oblivious to Chatham whom, up to this point, sat silently during the argument.
“Kira,” interrupted Chatham, his low voice cutting through their angry ones. “Sean is right. What good would it do to have you injured or worse?” As Chatham spoke, Kira felt a wave of nausea hit her. She stood and ran from the room, nearly toppling into Francine in her haste to reach the necessary room. She made it just in time and knelt to let the waves of sickness leave her body.
She refused to be sick. Not when the end was so close and when justice would soon be served. As Kira washed her face with the water from the small basin, she saw a stranger reflected back at her in the mirror. The whitish, pale skin and the darkened area under her green eyes warned her she would have to take better care of her health, she decided. Ever since they had arrived in Virginia, she had been feeling ill. It had gotten worse when they were on the sloop, coming to Charleston. Yesterday had been bad, but today was the worst. She knew it was only her return home and the anxieties she was feeling.
Why, she asked herself as she opened the door, was she being so moody? Why was she so argumentative, fighting Sean instead of letting him do what was needed? She pushed away all these thoughts as she reentered the dining room and saw the three questioning faces.
“Are you all right?” asked Sean and Chatham simultaneously. Francine sat quietly, looking at her.
“Fine,” replied Kira. “It’s just that my stomach hasn’t quite settled from the sea voyage,” she explained. Suddenly, Kira was ravenously hungry. “I’d really love some hot food,” she said, reaching over to ring the small bell that brought Bella in from the kitchen. She took Kira’s plate and quickly brought back a refill. As Kira began to eat, putting forkful after forkful into her mouth, she became aware of Chatham’s light blue eyes studying her.
A Whisper Of Destiny Page 28
