by Jo Goodman
Tanner answered her question. “Yes, Danty was pursuing one man. A British commander. A murderer.”
“I never knew that. I never even knew if Danty was an American. No one was certain. Shortly after the war began there was no more news. I thought he was killed, but perhaps he finally found his man.” Kenna’s expression was thoughtful as she recalled something else. “I seem to remember speculation that Danty was horribly disfigured. The papers said he always wore a mask. Is that why you chose him, Alex, because of the mask?”
“Yes,” she said. “Because of the mask.”
As Rhys had listened to Kenna speak his features became progressively clouded. Now the shutter over his thoughts lifted and his focus shifted from Kenna to Alexis. “But the mask never hid any disfigurement, did it, Alexis?” he asked, studying her through narrowed eyes.
Alexis shrugged, unmoved by the steady gaze. “How would I know?”
“Yes, Rhys,” Kenna said. “How would Alexis know?”
Rhys leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, and smiling for all the world like a cat who found the cream. “I may not be as good with figures as you, Kenna, but even I can add two and two and arrive at the appropriate sum. Do you recall Captain Danty’s Christian name?”
“Why, I think it was Alex.”
“Not a diminutive of Alexander though, I’ll wager. Would I win my bet, Mrs. Cloud?”
A half-smile touched Alexis’s lips. “I believe you would, Mr. Canning.”
Kenna’s eyes went perfectly round with shock. “You are Alex Danty?”
“I was.” Alexis’s smile became full blown as she looked at her husband. “Danty was a name I chose for myself before the Quintons adopted me. But I’m Alexis Cloud now, and I’ve a fondness for the name, so I’ll ask you not to repeat the other. There aren’t many people who know the truth.”
“How did you know, Rhys?” asked Tanner.
“Something you said when we first dined in your home. You toasted your notorious wife.”
“Ah. Then I shall have to guard my tongue more carefully in the future.”
“It wasn’t merely that,” Rhys said to Alexis. “As I listened to Kenna several things began to make sense in my mind. For instance, the fact that you were the one commanding the schooner the day we arrived in Boston. And the way you held those pistols this morning. If that weren’t enough to make me suspicious, you’d already told me that you were responsible for the charges of treason brought against Senator Howe. At the time I didn’t ask myself how it was possible that you could be in a position to make those charges, but now I see it was not Alexis Cloud who made the claim, but Alex Danty. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
Rhys leaned forward. “And my father knew who you were. That’s why you never fought him, never publicly acknowledged what he was doing to Garnet Shipping.”
“Yes. Roland knew. He visited Howe in prison several times and Howe must have told him. Do not mistake our reasons for silence. Neither Cloud nor I are ashamed of who I was or anything I’ve done. But I have no wish to have it known that I was Alex Danty. There are still those in England who would pay dearly for that knowledge.”
“If they believed it,” Kenna said. “I am finding it quite difficult.”
Tanner laughed. “You would not be the first. It’s for precisely that reason that Roland never spoke publicly of his knowledge. He would not open himself to ridicule any more than we would open ourselves to the possibility that he would be believed. Even though Danty is something of a folk hero on these shores, Alex would be ostracized by most of society if the truth were known.”
“I don’t care so much for myself,” Alexis said softly, “but it would be a burden for the children we may have some day. It’s better that everyone think Alex Danty is dead.”
“You didn’t have to admit the truth to us,” said Rhys. “Why did you?”
“Because I trust you, both of you, and I think you had a right to know what Roland was holding over our heads.”
“I thank you for that.”
Tanner stood and Alexis followed suit. “We have to be going. I’ll speak with my foreman about our plans to keep the wharf safe. You’ll have some additional men by this afternoon.”
Rhys escorted the Clouds to the street then returned to the office. Kenna had moved behind the desk but her attention was directed absently on the window rather than on the ledgers in front of her. Rhys shut the door behind him and leaned against it, studying Kenna. There was a serenity to her expression that captivated him. The corners of her beautiful mouth were turned up in the merest suggestion of a smile; her eyes caught the light filtering in the window and glistened with a faraway look.
“What are you thinking?”
Kenna started guiltily at having been caught daydreaming. “Just things,” she said, shrugging off her thoughts as if they could be of no importance to him. In truth she was a little embarrassed by the direction her mind had taken after Alexis and Tanner had left. Rhys had come upon her while she was thinking of children. One of Alexis’s last remarks had started her thinking about a family again.
Rhys pushed away from the door and rounded the desk, sitting on the edge with one foot propped on Kenna’s chair. “Just things,” he echoed softly. “They were lovely thoughts, whatever they were. You looked beautiful thinking them.”
“How kind of you to say so,” she said, tilting her head to one side and looking at him with a coy sideways glance.
“I’m no idle flatterer, Mrs. Canning. And if you keep looking at me that way I’ll not prove reluctant to show you what’s on my mind.”
“Rhys!”
“Kenna!” he mocked, grinning wickedly.
“I forbid you to make advances in this office!”
“Forbid, madam?”
She relented, knowing he would take up the challenge and she would inevitably surrender. “All right. I don’t forbid it, but if you ever want me to work in here again you won’t do it. I won’t be able to concentrate for thinking of other things.”
Rhys tossed his head back and laughed. “When you put it that way, I have no choice. I cannot afford to lose my best unpaid employee.”
Kenna pushed his foot off her chair and struggled to temper her own mirth. “Go on,” she said severely. “That ship is not going to build itself.”
At the door he smartly saluted her, winking for good measure, then ducked outside before he made himself a target for the book she was preparing to throw.
Rhys arrived home quite late that night. Kenna was reading in bed when he entered the room and she could smell spirits on him before he crossed the floor to kiss her.
She wrinkled her nose and gave his shoulders a shove. “Before you went to the tavern were your plans to drink your liquor or wear it?”
Rhys pulled the lapel of his jacket close to his nose and sniffed. “I swear I meant to drink,” he laughed. “I’m not foxed, but I’ll forgive you if you don’t believe me. One of Tanner’s men upended a tray of rum and most of it landed on me.”
Kenna got out of bed and helped Rhys get out of his sodden jacket and trousers. “I had one of the maids draw you a bath. Here, I’ll take these clothes and you deposit yourself in the tub. There’s a kettle of water heating in the fireplace. You’ll need it, the water’s no better than tepid by now.”
Rhys stripped off the remainder of his clothes and handed them to Kenna. He slipped into the tub while she deposited the reeking material in the dressing room and instantly regretted he had forgotten to add the hot water. He looked at Kenna plaintively when she reentered the room, making his teeth chatter to call attention to his plight.
“I’ve a good mind to let Alcott chip you out of there in the morning,” she said. She used a mitt to remove the hot kettle from the hearth. “Move your feet if you don’t want them scalded.” Carefully she poured the water into the tub. When she had emptied the kettle Rhys slid lower, resting his head on the edge and closed his eyes.
“
You’re a kind woman, Kenna Canning,” he sighed.
She knelt beside the tub and took the sponge and soap in hand. “Simple-minded would be a more accurate description,” she said, mocking herself as she began to lather Rhys’s smooth chest.
“Mm.”
The gentle massage stopped. “Are you agreeing with me or simply enjoying my attentions?”
“The latter, dearest.” He smiled complacently as the sponge was drawn across his chest again.
“How did it happen that you went to the tavern?”
“Tanner came by the construction site an hour or so after you left. He offered a few suggestions on the design and I offered to discuss it over a few pints. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Oh, dear. Have I sounded like the veriest fishwife?” She brushed his mouth with hers. “Honestly, I don’t mind. But, given the unsavory events of this morning, perhaps you would send someone out to the house with word that you are going to be delayed.”
His eyes flew open. “You were worried!”
“Did you think you had an exclusive right to that state of mind? I love you, Rhys Canning. Of course I was worried.” She touched the bruise on his chin. “I don’t like to think of someone marring this perfectly beautiful face.”
“I could remind you that this handsome visage you affect to admire would have been unscathed if I had not been distracted by a sprite wielding a veritable battering ram. I could remind you of that. But I won’t.”
“Your reticence to dwell on past events is one of your most admirable qualities.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He closed his eyes as she tenderly bathed his face. “If I plan to work late in the future I’ll send someone round with a message.” His concession was rewarded by a very warm kiss.
“Thank you.” She brushed a bubble of soap away from the corner of his mouth. “Lift your foot.”
He curled his toes over the edge of the tub so she could wash his leg. “Do you really want to attend the Clouds’ masque, Kenna?”
“Yes. I really do. It’s absurd to let the past interfere with present.”
“If you’re certain then.”
“I am. Other leg please.” She paused, waiting for him to comply. “What will you wear?”
“I’ve already decided against a highwayman. And pirate garb is out of the question. Alexis has priority there.”
“Most definitely. She’s quite something, isn’t she? I’d love to know her story. Did I tell you she grew up on Breecham Lane? Can you imagine? One would never think it to hear her speak.”
“I’m certain, given time, she’ll tell you how she became Captain Danty. And if you don’t share it with me I doubt I shall ever speak to you again.”
“As long as you don’t deny me the pleasure of bathing you,” she said, dipping the sponge beneath the water and running it along his thigh. “So what are you going to do?”
“I thought you had lost interest.”
“Hardly, though I admit my interest is beginning to take another turn.” She leaned over the tub to reach his other thigh. Rhys’s eyes fluttered open and he knew himself to be quite taken with the view of Kenna’s breasts thrusting against the bodice of her low cut nightgown.
“So is mine,” he warned her as she leaned back and he saw her bodice had become damp, outlining her every curve.
Kenna tossed the sponge at him so that he caught it reflexively, thus foiling his attempt to grab her. Laughing, she went to the vanity and gave her hair a few hard strokes, watching Rhys in the mirror as he finished bathing. “I believe we were discussing your costume,” she reminded him.
Rhys climbed out of the tub and hitched a towel about his waist. “I am not going as Marc Antony or Caesar so you can put that from your mind, Cleo.”
Kenna affected disappointment. “Oh, and you look so dashing in a sheet.”
Rhys grunted as he dried himself off. “I was thinking of a musketeer. When I was in France I saw a number of paintings featuring them. Do you think Alice could copy their uniform if I sketched it for her?”
“It will cost you dearly. She is already working on Cleopatra’s gown.”
“Why do I feel as if I am the sole contributor to that dress shop of hers?”
Kenna put her brush aside and turned to him. “Perhaps because you are.” She rose from the vanity and skirted past Rhys while he had his head buried in a towel, briskly drying his hair. “Are you ever coming to bed?” she asked, slipping between the sheets. She reached over to the nightstand and put out the lamp, then lay on her side, warming a spot for Rhys with the palm of her hand.
Rhys slid insto bed a few moments later and reached for Kenna. She went into his embrace willingly. His fingers threaded through her hair as her fragrance teased his senses. “Care to share a pillow?”
“I’d like that very much,” she said, responding to the phrase that had come to mean he wanted to love her.
Rhys teased her face with kisses until Kenna was forced to take him in hand, directing his mouth to the one place he had neglected—her soft, moist lips. They made love slowly, savoring the tension building between them. He adored her with his mouth and hands, knowing precisely where to touch her to elicit her small cries of pleasure. She caressed him with her slender fingers, cherishing the husky sounds he could not hold back.
Afterward they lay curled against one another, listening to the cadence of their breathing as it slowed in unison. Kenna reached for Rhys’s hand which rested lightly on her hip and brought it around to the flatness of her abdomen.
“I was thinking about children today,” she said. “Our children.”
Rhys’s caressing hand stilled. “So those were your lovely thoughts.”
“Hmm.”
“Then, my very dear Mrs. Canning, I shall try my best to accommodate you.”
“I thought you might,” she murmured sleepily.
Chapter 10
Kenna adjusted the coal black, shoulder-length wig on her head and secured it with the finely crafted gold leaf band Rhys had presented her at breakfast. The front of the head piece was adorned by the slender coil of a snake with fiery ruby eyes. She darkened her brows and lashes and enhanced her eyelids with kohl. Kenna lifted her chin a regal notch and stared at her reflection, pronouncing herself quite mysterious and every inch a queen. Then she wrinkled her nose and made a face just to remind herself who she really was.
Rhys’s shout of laughter came from the other side of the room. “I saw that!”
“Quiet, slave! Or I swear I shall have you entombed in a pyramid,” she announced dramatically. “Alive!” She rose gracefully from her seat and crossed the room to Rhys. Her gown shimmered as she walked, caressing her body in a film of golden threads. The broad onyx necklace that she wore lay flat against her chest, accenting not only the slim column of her throat but the delicate curves of her breasts. Each of her bare arms was adorned by a coiled golden bracelet and the hem of the dress swayed softly about her ankles, allowing an occasional glimpse of the thin leather straps of the sandals that wound around her calves.
Rhys made a deep bow as she approached, flourishing his broad hat in a grand manner that made the white plume dip and sway.
“You may rise,” she said grandly. “Let me look at you.” Rhys straightened. “Oh, my. Alice has outdone herself.” She walked around him, surveying him critically from every angle. The sleeves of his white linen shirt billowed on his arms and tapered at his wrists in tiers of lacy ruffles which lay over the backs of his hands. His long, lean fingers appeared more masculine for the contrast. The loose fitting vest he wore was royal blue, emblazoned with the gold insignia of the old guard of France. His dark velvet breeches disappeared into black leather boots that were softer and allowed more room than the current fashion. The lethal looking rapier Tanner had lent him for the occasion was fastened to his side.
“Magnifique!” Kenna pronounced when she came to stand in front of him again.
“I’m so very pleased you approve,” Rhys said
dryly. “I cannot remember a time when I felt so…so…You see!” he accused. “The proper description is foreign to me.”
Kenna gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “Remind yourself that you could be wearing a sheet, dearest. That should help you put this in perspective.” She offered him a saucy smile before she swept out of the room.
When they arrived at the Clouds there were already more than a dozen couples dancing to the lilting waltz melody the stringed orchestra was playing.
“Do you know that I’ve never waltzed before?” Kenna whispered to Rhys.
“Regretting not having that London Season after all? You could have waltzed until the wee hours of the morning at Almacks.”
“I’ll make up for it this evening,” she promised, casting a glance at his feet. “I hope your boots are comfortable.”
“The only part of this costume that is,” he whispered back. He started to say something else but Tanner approached them then and Rhys grinned when he saw him. Tanner was wearing a swirling desert robe, much like those worn by the Infidels the English had fought during the Crusades.
“Alex said I looked quite fierce,” Tanner said, almost daring his friend to laugh out loud.
“Oh, you do,” said Kenna quickly, reminding Rhys of his manners by giving him a poke in the ribs. “Doesn’t he, Rhys?”
The plume in Rhys’s hat wavered as he nodded and bit back his smile. “Quite fierce.”
There was laughter in the emerald depths of Tanner’s eyes as he turned his attention to Kenna. “And you, my lovely queen, are radiant.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
Kenna fluttered her darkened lashes at Rhys over Tanner’s bent head. “So gallant, my lord.” She laughed gaily as Rhys pretended to prepare to draw his sword.
