by Jo Goodman
“All right,” Rhys gave in graciously. In truth he did not care what others thought but he knew she was right. “Let us plan on having luncheon together. We’ll find a respectable tavern.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Rhys grinned at her absent reply. She had already opened the first ledger and was scanning the accounts thoughtfully. He picked up her redingote which she had thrown over a chair and hung it up on a hook by the door. He doubted she even heard him bid her good day.
Immersed as she was in her figures, Kenna did not glance up when she heard the door open several hours later. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Rhys. I have only this column to do.”
Alexis Cloud shut the door softly behind her and sat down in one of the pair of chairs in front of the desk. Her striking amber eyes studied Kenna’s intent posture thoughtfully. If Alexis had relied on the rumors already circulating Boston concerning the Cannings, the last place she would have expected to find Mrs. Canning was in her husband’s offices. It was believed she would be making a triumphant entrance into society based on her late father-in-law’s power and position. It was expected that she and Rhys Canning would attend the splendid affairs given by their wealthy peers, thus filling the void left by Roland and Richard. The fate of all that Canning money weighed on everyone’s mind. Or nearly everyones’s mind. The Canning wealth had been used generously to hold a number of people in the Canning pockets. Alexis Cloud was not one of that number.
When Kenna finally looked up from her work she found herself staring into a pair of the most intriguing eyes she had ever seen. Amber, with flecks of gold, they seemed to reflect the light in the room. The woman seated across from her was naturally poised, confident, and clearly beautiful. Kenna estimated her age was very near Kenna’s own. From beneath her attractive bonnet wisps of bright gold hair framed an oval face that was more lovely than the sum of its features. Kenna found herself admiring the character she saw and it was only after smiling in welcome that Kenna realized she had been under similar scrutiny and had not been found wanting.
“I’m Mrs. Canning,” she introduced herself. “Pardon me for keeping you waiting. I thought you were my husband come to take me to luncheon.” As a smile dimpled the corners of the woman’s mouth Kenna realized the woman must think her remarkably unconcerned about her husband’s feelings. “You were infinitely more patient than he would have been.”
“I confess I have kept my husband cooling his heels while I attended to some matters also,” she said in the manner of a fellow conspirator. “Now that we share that much in common, permit me to welcome you to Boston. I am Alexis Cloud.”
Kenna could not suppress her shock. “But you can’t be.”
Alexis’s laughter was genuinely pleased. “I do enjoy that reaction. Tell me, what have you heard?”
Kenna was embarrassed by her lack of manners. “It doesn’t bear repeating. It was plainly untrue.” She was not the sort of woman who would permit her wealth to be bartered into marriage. “Would you like a cup of tea? I was going to have one myself.”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
Kenna poured hot water from a kettle on the stove into a pot and measured out the tea. While it steeped she found a second cup in one of the drawers of the desk and set it out. “Your accent surprises me,” she said. “I did not realize you were English.”
“I’m not.”
The reply was so terse that Kenna felt as if she had somehow given offense where none was intended. “Have I said something wrong?”
“Forgive me,” said Alexis. “Cloud always says I am too quick to take issue with comments like that. I was born in England and lived there until I was thirteen. Breecham Lane. Have you ever heard of it?”
“Oh, but that’s—” She stopped before she offended Mrs. Cloud again.
“It’s all right. I know very well what it is. If there was a poorer, dirtier section of London, I’ve yet to learn of it. After I left England I lived on Tortola with George and Francine Quinton for six years. I assume you heard my name in connection with Quinton Shipping.” Kenna nodded. “I thought so. When they were killed by a British naval officer, I severed the last ties with England. I’m American now.” She said the last with unmistakable pride.
Kenna poured their tea. She was filled with curiosity but held her questions. She felt certain this woman could be her friend and in time they would share their pasts. “I’ve rather had the country thrust upon me, but I admit there is much to admire about it.” She handed a cup to Alexis then sat down, but instead of putting the desk between them, she took the chair beside her guest. “It was kind of you to come here today. Do you know you’re the first person to welcome me to the city?”
“Quite honestly I had come to welcome your husband and extend an invitation to you both for dinner in my home some evening this week. It was an unexpected pleasure to find you here. At this very minute there are at least four of Boston’s bloody blue matrons on their way to your home to look you over.”
“Are there really?” asked Kenna, plainly astonished.
“Oh, yes.” Alexis sipped her tea. “I saw them gathering on Beacon Hill this morning when I left the house. They will be quite put out that I found you first.”
“It amuses you,” Kenna observed. “Why is that?”
“I’ll let you discover that for yourself,” she replied enigmatically. “I’m of no mind to spoil it for you.”
Kenna realized she was going to have to be satisfied with the explanation. “When Rhys and I arrived the other day we saw one of your schooners coming into the harbor. It was truly a beautiful ship. Rhys said she could chase the wind. Have you many like her?”
“She’s one of a kind,” Alexis said, pleasure in her voice. “Responsive to the slightest touch. Yes, I believe she can chase the wind. I will have to tell Cloud that. He designed her. You saw her coming in on her maiden voyage. I took her out to get the feel of her.”
“You took her out?” Kenna’s awe was transparent.
“Not alone, you understand. I have an excellent crew,” Alexis added without a trace of conceit. She finished her tea and placed her cup on the desk. “I have to be going. I’ve taken up enough of your time and your husband will no doubt be here shortly. Will you think about my invitation? Say for Friday around seven? Cloud and I would both enjoy your company.”
Kenna rose to her feet when Alexis stood. She found one more thing to like about Alexis Cloud. The woman was every bit as tall as she was. Kenna opened the door for her. “I don’t have to think about it. Rhys and I would be delighted to come.”
“Good,” said Alexis, meaning it. “Enjoy your luncheon.”
Kenna stood in the doorway with a rather bemused expression on her features as Alexis Cloud walked confidently through the outer office and disappeared in the corridor. Rhys appeared a moment later, looking somewhat preoccupied himself. He crossed the outer office and gave Kenna a light kiss on the cheek she offered.
“Who was that striking woman I saw leave her?” he asked.
“That,” Kenna said a trifle smugly, “was Quinton Shipping.”
“Mrs. Cloud?”
“One and the same, according to Captain Johnson,” Kenna reminded him.
Rhys looked at the two cups on the desk. “And you had tea with her? They’ve not spared a second becoming acquainted with their competitors, have they?”
“They?”
“I was talking with Tanner Cloud only an hour ago. That’s why I’m late. He took me on a tour of some of the Garnet ships.”
Kenna did not know what to make of that, but she voiced her first impression. “Rhys, I quite like Mrs. Cloud. I hope you are not saying we cannot be friends simply because our lines are rivals.”
Rhys laughed openly. “Damned if I didn’t like Tanner, too. I accepted an invitation for dinner in their home on Saturday evening. Does that meet with your approval?”
Kenna paused as she reached for her coat. “That at least proves they were not rus
hing their fences together,” she chuckled. “Mrs. Cloud asked us to dinner Friday night.”
When Kenna dressed for the dinner Friday evening with the Clouds she chose the rose gown Alice had just finished that morning. Kenna discovered when she tried the gown on that Alice had not lied about her talent. The fit was excellent and the fine detail surpassed Kenna’s expectations. The gown bared her shoulders and the delicate line of her collarbones while the empire cut hugged her breasts. Tiny rose beads dotted the puffed sleeves, a touch that Alice had taken upon herself to add, and one that Kenna thought added greatly to the gown’s simple elegance. She wore long white gloves, rose slippers, and carried a white shawl. When she turned away from the mirror after giving a wayward curl a stern admonition to lie quietly she feared from the dark speculative look in Rhys’s eyes that they might not arrive on time.
“I hope you were dressing for me when you chose that gown,” he said, his sharp silver gaze glancing off her bare shoulders and taking note of her barely concealed bosom.
“I was dressing to please myself,” she said tartly, then lost the effect because she smiled flirtatiously. “But I’m glad you approve.”
One of Rhys’s brows kicked up. “Approve, madam? I don’t know that I approve at all. Haven’t you got one of those things, you know, to cover your…your…” He pointed to his own chest.
“Bosom,” she said sweetly, grinning at his stammering. “And I have a shawl that will do nicely. Now put your eyes back in your head.” She made an assessing sweep of his appearance. He was wearing a dove gray tail coat and trousers a shade darker. His cravat was a snowy fall of white linen impeccably arranged and in the crook of his elbow he carried a top hat. “You are looking more handsome than you have a right to. Don’t cast stones in my direction.”
Rhys wasn’t mollified in the least by her backhanded compliment. He arranged the white shawl over her shoulders to his own satisfaction while trying valiantly to ignore Kenna’s blatant amusement. In the end he surrendered to it. “I sounded rather priggish, didn’t I?”
“Endearingly so.” She patted his cheek as if he were a naughty boy.
Rhys took exception to that and kissed her hard on the lips until she gave a little moan against his mouth. Pleased with himself, he drew back and mocked her gesture by patting her flushed cheek. “Shall we go, sprite?”
Kenna took the arm he offered. “Rogue,” she said, not unkindly.
By the time their driver stopped the carriage in front of the Clouds’ Beacon Hill home, Kenna’s cheeks matched the rose of her gown and her lips had a decidedly well-kissed look. When she tried to scold Rhys he swept aside her concern by reminding her they were still newlyweds and it was expected. Kenna was skeptical but his kisses wreaked havoc with her common sense.
Kenna’s first glimpse of Tanner Cloud, scion of the Garnet wealth, gave her a clue to Rhys’s earlier protectiveness. He was a vital man, tanned from long hours out-of-doors with a broad-shouldered frame that bespoke of his labors. He might design ships, she thought, but he helped build them as well. He probably acted as his own foreman, working beside his men. His hair was the color of copper and his eyes were as deeply green as emeralds. He greeted them warmly as the butler took Rhys’s hat.
“I’m delighted you could come,” he said with genuine pleasure. “Alex tells me that she is hosting this affair and tomorrow night is my turn. God knows, life would become too simple if we consulted one another at every turn.”
Kenna laughed. “About Saturday’s invitation. We would like you to come to our home.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I’ve already made reservations for the four of us at Forrest’s. The owner used to be the cook on a ship I commanded, but don’t let that frighten you away. He doesn’t actually do the cooking and therefore has promised me an excellent meal.”
Rhys chuckled appreciatively while absently straightening the shawl on Kenna’s shoulders. “I’ve heard Forrest’s is an excellent establishment. And quite a popular place.”
Tanner nodded, his eyes amused as he watched Rhys’s hands on his wife’s shoulders. “That’s because no one knows he once headed a galley. I’m going to ask you to keep the secret.” He motioned them toward the drawing room. “Come. We’ll have a drink before dinner,” he said. “Alex is waiting. She’ll be wondering what I’ve done with you.” In an aside to Rhys as they were entering the room Tanner said, “In your place I’d want to wrap her in that shawl, too.”
Kenna glanced over her shoulder and saw a touch of red creep over Rhys’s face though at the same time he looked absurdly pleased by the compliment to her appearance. She sighed, wondering if she would ever understand the vagaries of a man’s mind, and loosened the shawl, draping it over her arm as it was meant to be worn.
When Kenna saw Alexis she was once again struck by the woman’s cool beauty though not at all intimidated by it. She realized in that moment how much of her confidence she had regained since being away from Dunnelly. In part it was due to Rhys because of his unflagging belief in her, but Kenna also knew she had a well of strength that existed with or without Rhys Canning. She had proven that when she had pitched Mason Deverell’s vile drugs overboard.
Alexis was pouring them drinks in long stemmed crystal glasses. “This is a very light, dry wine,” she said. “I hope you like it.” She gave a glass to Kenna and Rhys. “Mr. Canning, I’m Alexis Cloud. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”
Kenna noted Alexis’s stare was not bold but she was studying Rhys’s face thoughtfully, clearly making up her own mind regarding the man her husband had told her about.
“I can say the same,” Rhys said gravely, not flinching from the steady gaze of his hostess’s striking amber eyes. Whatever she was searching for she must have found it in his serenely confident features because she smiled then, looking very nearly radiant as she did so. Rhys returned the smile and understood what Kenna admired about this woman. “Kenna has scarcely stopped talking about you. She tells me it was you commanding the schooner.”
“And you came to dinner anyway,” Alexis said in self-mockery. When she saw their puzzled faces, she explained. “My penchant for sailing the ships Cloud builds has kept more people than I can name from coming here. It is something of a scandal here on Beacon Hill.”
Tanner chuckled deeply and raised his glass of wine toward his wife. “To my notorious wife,” he said, a secret smile lifting the corners of his lips.
Rhys and Kenna were a little bewildered but they drank dutifully. “This is very good,” said Kenna. “Is it a domestic wine?”
“It’s French,” said Tanner.
Kenna looked quickly at Rhys. The smile around his mouth had become a little strained.
“What is it?” asked Alexis quickly, alert to the sudden tension that existed in the room.
“It will take some time getting used to,” Rhys said, twirling the stem of his glass in his long fingers. “In England it is tantamount to treason to drink French wines. Some do, of course, lifting their glasses and cursing Napoleon at the same time, but I—” He stopped, shrugging his shoulders as if it were no longer of any importance.
Tanner stepped forward and drew the glass from Rhys’s hand. “But you never could. It’s understandable. You fought that bloody Peninsula War, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?” Realization dawned in his eyes. “No, never mind, I know where you heard it.”
“Roland could not accept that Rhys would not come here three years ago to fight on the side of the United States,” Kenna said quietly. “It was a difficult decision for my husband but he wanted to remain in England.”
“As I would have in his place,” said Tanner. “What is the latest word on Napoleon?”
“You probably know as much as I do,” Rhys said. “When we left England he was rallying his armies. He has likely taken over the reins of power in France. If he is not checked by the English, he will have the entire Continent again.”
Alexis placed her hand on Rhys’s for
earm. “It cannot be easy for you to know he is free after so many years of fighting.”
“It’s not. But my part in it is over. I’ve had my fill of war.” His eyes were soft as he looked at Kenna fondly. “This is where I want to be now.” He touched the slender hand Alexis had placed upon his arm. “But I seem to have left my manners in London. Forgive me for becoming so tiresome about something as trifling as a glass of wine.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Alexis said simply. “I am happy you spoke your mind.”
Tanner offered his arm to Kenna. “A moment ago I saw Widdoes motioning from the hallway that our dinner is ready. Shall we go?”
Kenna went happily on his arm while Rhys escorted Alexis. The Clouds entertained in their small intimate supper room. Fresh, beautifully arranged flowers filled several vases on the sideboard and the room’s light came from the candelabras which had been set on the mantel, sideboard, and the dining table. The room had a mellow warmth about it that made Kenna very comfortable. She touched Rhys’s hand beneath the table and saw by his gentle smile that he was also quite content.
The meal was served with unobtrusive flair by Widdoes and the conversation flowed easily while they dined on fresh lobster served with hot melted butter, mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat and herbs, and a colorful rice and vegetable dish. Kenna laughed at her clumsy efforts to separate her lobster from its meat. She had difficulty peeling back the softened and cut shell and pushing out the meat.
“It requires a little perseverance,” Alexis assured her.
Kenna tried again, pressing the back of the shell, and the white succulent meat flowered to the top. She poked at it with her fork to separate the juicy flakes.
“I always think this food is meant to be enjoyed with one’s fingers. Go ahead. It’s quite acceptable here.” Alexis graciously demonstrated, then Kenna and Rhys followed suit. Tanner grinned, shrugged, and not to be left out, joined them.
“You were correct about the four Boston blue bloods, Mrs. Cloud,” Kenna said.
