Flames of Desire

by Vanessa Royall

  His eyes were on her.

  Ropes were lowered and fastened to bow and stern of the dinghy, and davits creaked as it was lifted, with its passengers, into the man-of-war. It seemed to Selena a stupendous ship, a floating world.

  On deck, he spoke to her father first. “I’ll take you across the Firth to Pittenweem, as agreed,” he said. “With luck, if you move fast, you can outflank McGrover’s police and make it north into the Highlands. And I’ll have a ship to America waiting for you at Liverpool in the spring, when a crossing is possible.”

  Lord Seamus nodded sadly, and Royce ordered sailors to take them below immediately for dry clothes and hot food. “If you don’t mind, sir,” he added deferentially, “your daughter may use my cabin. It is the only place aboard ship that provides a measure of privacy.”

  Brian roused himself to a look that was part bile and part amused skepticism. Like many an older brother, he was solicitous of his sister’s honor. But Lord Seamus paid no mind, and Royce ordered a steward to show her the way.

  Sir Royce’s cabin was high in the stern, a small, comfortable, but extremely well-organized room. The rafters of the ship formed beams along the ceiling, and from these Royce’s hammock was suspended, draped casually with blankets of leopard skin. The cabin was well-insulated, and the small iron stove gave off considerable heat. On a chair beside a map desk, she found laid out for her the rough woolen uniform and rope-soled shoes of a common sailor. Scorning these, she tore off the soaked and sullied gown, dried herself with a large Turkish towel that had been left with the uniform, wrapped the towel around her, and then brushed her hair until it glowed in the smoky glass of the porthole chamber.

  Beneath her, she felt the ship turn, moving diagonally to the wind and across the Firth, which was the bay that led into Edinburgh harbor. Then they would be put ashore, and…

  It would be a parting, again, soon, and they had never yet been together. At the same moment, her mind and body realized why she was here, in this cabin. The feeling she had then was one of utterly physical excitement, in spite of the circumstances.

  There was a knock at the cabin’s oak-beamed door. “Selena, are you ready?”

  It was Royce.

  “Yes,” she cried, and turned toward the door.

  He opened the door and saw her there. A momentary expression of surprise appeared on his face. He looked at her appraisingly, and met her eyes.

  “Royce,” she whispered.

  His face tightened with passion, and he swung the cabin door shut. The iron latch clanged to. She saw the raw desire in his gaze, but for just the shred of a second he seemed somehow to hesitate, too. Blakemore, she thought, fighting off a flicker of desperation, and then her arms were around him and her lips were seeking his. Veronica Blakemore did not matter now, and after this meeting she could never matter again, never! Selena pressed close against him and pulled his head down to her own. She found his mouth and felt his passion rise.

  “Selena,” he said, as if he were about to tell her something, but she cut off his voice with her kiss. The advice of many women throbbed in her mind: You will know what to do when the time comes, and all the women of Egypt, of India, and all the Veronica Blakemores spun away into a world of contemptible illusion as she felt Royce’s strong arms encircle her, and felt the unmistakable proof of his desire against her body. Now let him try to set me aside like a schoolgirl, she thought, feeling her own excitement. Once again, for just an instant, she sensed a hint of restraint in him, as if he were trying to resist, but then the moment passed and they were climbing together the ladder of sensual enchantment.

  Driven by need, he tightened his embrace, fairly lifting her to him, and his hands sought the tingling places of her body. Her towel fell away, and so did his greatcoat and breeches, and Selena reached eagerly to stroke and pleasure him. They moved across the cabin toward the hammock, as if joined in a dance that was composed not of steps and twirls but rather kisses and embraces, touches of endearment and words that could not quite be spoken. A sound, almost like a groan, came from his throat as he lifted her into his hammock and then came down upon her. He tried to be gentle when he entered her, but his need was urgent. Selena felt riven for a moment but it did not matter, and then she embraced him with her body, and together they were climbing the ladder to a sacred place, faster and faster. She felt him lancing into her, driven by the passion she had set afire, and her own tumultuous passion bathed her body in its glory. It was as natural as a dream or destiny, and the sacred place waited there above them, in which their melded bodies would flow. It seemed as if they had all the time in the world to reach that place, but need made them hurry. A feeling of inexpressible magnificence seemed to be waiting for them there, possession of which would give them wings to soar above the tawdry, spinning earth. Possession of the gift would be like dying and going to glory, going to glory for the space of an instant a shred of time so small that, in comparison, the length of one human breath is eternity. Royce reached that place, and clung to her, and brought her along with him. They were no longer of the world, but had put the world behind them.

  Afterward, she drifted for a time, loving the feel of his warmth. But in time, the glimpse of eternity faded from her mind and, in her body, the blood slowed down. Suddenly, she was aware that he had not spoken, and that he lay tense beside her. She opened her eyes, to see him watching her. She could not interpret his emotions, which he had concealed with his icy eyes, but the look on his face was not so much cynical as mildly perplexed.

  “This time I was fortunate and you were not,” he said enigmatically.

  “I love you,” she said, moving close for a kiss.

  He gave her the kiss, but said nothing. An entire world fell away from her then, and her heart with it. She kissed him again, to hide the hurt. She hoped he could not hear the beating of her heart. Now she recalled Brian’s attitude toward Royce, and her father’s warnings about his nature. Abruptly, he broke away from her kiss.

  “What’s the matter?” he wanted to know.

  Selena tried to smile. “Why…why nothing. Why on earth should anything be the matter?”

  Royce narrowed his eyes and studied her. She watched him. He seemed much taken by her. She knew, because she had seen the same look in the eyes of Sean and the others. But, with Royce, something was different, as if he were slightly puzzled, even a bit wary.

  “You are on the run from McGrover, with a long road to travel, no certainty of safety, and you imply that everything is fine?”

  “I shall be with you again in Liverpool, in the spring,” she said, caressing him where, again, his manhood stirred. And again, he could not resist, or did not want to. He came to her with a moan of pleasure, and they feasted upon sensation, sensation all the keener because their bodies had so recently tasted raw delight. But when they had finished, Selena knew him no better than before.

  A noisy knock sounded at the door. “Pittenweem’s off starboard, sir,” Lieutenant Fligh called. Fligh! Had he been outside all along? At this moment, Selena didn’t care.

  “All right,” Royce told his second in command. “I’ll be right up on deck.”

  Selena watched with admiration and unquenched desire as Royce pulled clothes onto his powerful body. “Here,” he said, almost curtly, and tossed her a pair of pants and a shirt from a peg on the wall. “It’ll be a good disguise for you.” Then he was gone.

  Selena got out of the hammock, half-joyful, half-distressed. She had held him; he had been hers. His essence was even now seeping from her. But he had acted—oh, she knew it now—strangely, and then he had left so abruptly. She looked at the clothing he’d given her. The rough uniform of a common seaman. She glumly put it on; it hung from her body, loose and baggy, and she noted with great disappointment the manner in which the heavy folds of the shirt all but concealed the slimness of her waist, the swell of her breasts and hips.

  She left the cabin and was just about to take the passageway up on deck when she saw Brian and her
father approaching. They were dressed in uniforms just like hers, which seemed to rob them of their identities. Lord Seamus looked utterly defeated, but in her present mood of reverie mixed with rue, Selena barely noticed.

  “A sailor said we might find Lord Campbell down here,” said her father.

  “He…he was here, but he went back up on deck.”

  “What did he want?” Brian snapped.

  “To know how we were managing,” she answered, more angrily than necessary.

  “He asked you how we were managing?” Brian repeated, with a look of disgust.

  “Yes. And I thanked him for all that he’s done.”

  Brian and Lord Seamus looked at each other. There was a pause, into which Selena read the emotions of each.

  “Selena,” her father began, “do you remember in the coach to Edinburgh that I informed you of Sir Royce’s visit to me last year? And of a scheme he advanced which I considered to be highly insulting?”

  Selena remembered. It had seemed insignificant at the time, nothing that would ever affect her.

  “I have never doubted Sir Royce’s shrewdness,” her father said. “He knew we were in danger as early as last year, and he offered to take us all to safety in America. I told him we did not require his services, and that we never would. But he estimated the political situation better than I. This year I had to go to him, hat in hand.” He shook his head sadly. “I had to deal with the devil.”

  Selena’s brain was spinning, as if the timbers she stood upon had suddenly dissolved beneath her feet. Father reduced to begging…

  “But what is so terrible about being taken to safety?” she asked.

  Lord Seamus gave her a direct look. “We had to pay him, Selena. He is doing nothing for us out of the goodness of his heart. I can assure you of that.”

  Selena sought an explanation. “But it’s dangerous for him,” she began. “And after all, he is a sailor for hire…”

  “Sean was the one who had to pay him,” Brian said.

  There was a silence in the great ship, broken only by the occasional sound of orders being shouted on deck, and the creaking of the timbers.

  “All we have is gone, Selena,” her father said, trying to be gentle, trying to make her understand the extent of their distress. “Position. Money. Coldstream. It’s all gone. We had to call upon Sean Bloodwell for money to buy our way to safety, if we’re fortunate enough to reach safety. And Royce Campbell took that money. Spare yourself further illusions about him.

  “Sean’s also paid our way to America. We are to meet up with Royce in Liverpool in spring, when passage across the Atlantic is possible. If Campbell even makes the rendezvous,” he added bitterly.

  Selena tried desperately to fit it all together, to assemble the various impressions in a way that would leave her feelings of love for Royce intact. Now, for the first time, she realized fully the extent of Sean Bloodwell’s love for her, and also her father’s knowledge of that love. He had counted on it as a rock for her to cling to after he himself was gone. Then her heart convulsed in a sudden, painful rage against Royce Campbell, the mercenary cynic upon whom they now depended. This was the man in whose arms she had lain only moments before! Now she knew, too, how they had become beneficiaries of Campbell’s power and largess, which she had mistaken for comradeship and love. Money—blood money—had changed hands. (And yet she remembered how it felt in his embrace.) Worse, it had been Sean Bloodwell’s gold which was giving them this small measure of safety. And had she herself been part of the payment for this passage? Was that the reason for Royce’s momentary restraint just before he had taken her? Selena did not know. In spite of her anger and pain, her body betrayed her, recalling nothing but the sweet madness of his embrace. Finally, with a supreme effort of will, she forced herself to realize what had taken place, and she stormed off down the passageway.

  “Where are you going?” Brian called.

  “To see Royce Campbell. I have a few things to say to him.”

  “It will be of no use,” Lord Seamus warned.

  “On the contrary, I believe that I shall feel much better,” Selena replied.

  She found Royce on the bridge of the Highlander. He greeted her with his customary expression of wry amusement. Lieutenant Fligh, standing beside Royce, eyed her closely. They both saw how angry she was.

  “What is it?” Royce asked.

  She saw with a sickening sensation how adept he was at giving the appearance of sympathy and concern. She had been deceived by certain other of his dramatic techniques.

  “I think you are despicable! Thoroughly despicable! My father is one of the greatest men in Scotland, and yet you take money, Sean Bloodwell’s money…”

  “Oh, that,” Royce said. “His money means something to you now, does it?”

  “You…you bastard.”

  Royce laughed grimly. “No, young lady. My antecedents have been unsullied for thirty generations, perhaps more. But let me explain something. I am taking your father to safety. And your brother, the young hothead. And you. There is no one else who, in this weather and under threat of being charged with treason, would dare have done it.”

  “But for money! When it’s Scotland and the Rob Roys at stake!”

  Royce looked angry now, and although he controlled it, the feeling was genuine. “I have my principles,” he said, “and you have yours. And one of mine is not to invest emotion in lost causes.”

  “That’s not true,” she cried. “It is well known that you are a rebel at heart, capable of anything. I know that now…”

  “Hold your tongue, young lady. There are things you do not know, among them the measure of a man. Aye! They call me rebel, and I do take risks, but in the end it’s my life, and I am the one who must make my choices and live with myself.”

  “If you are able to do that,” she told him, with revulsion in her voice, “you would be able to live unnoticed in a den of wolves…”

  A strange look came over his face then. She took little notice of it.

  “…but to make a profit from Scotland, from the misfortune of my father and his followers…”

  She could not go on. Fligh grinned, enjoying the exchange. But when Royce spoke, his voice was softer, as if there were things he truly wished her to understand.

  “Selena, many things have occurred which are beyond your understanding now. But you will understand in time. You may not believe that, and I am sure you think that I care nothing for you. I hope we do meet one day. You are going to be a splendid woman, and…”

  Going to be?

  “…and you have the fire to endure the life upon which you are about to embark, and the intelligence to learn from it…”

  He seemed sincere. Selena hesitated, not knowing whether to believe him or not. The outrage of his mercenary actions had colored his image black in her mind.

  “It is unnecessary for you to go on so. It is quite clear to me that you will make anyone the fool if it suits you.”

  “That is untrue.”

  “To a man like you, neither patriotism nor love are sacred.”

  Now his eyes glittered with a strange, secret feeling. “You are the kind of woman I do not need,” he said. “Patriotism is just as private as love, and as unpredictable. Don’t begin to judge others until you’ve learned a few things on your own.”

  “I can judge others, and I shall! You have taken me, with neither honesty nor love, just as you would take anything that promised to give you pleasure without consequences…”

  “If that’s what you think.” Royce said, looking away.

  Fligh was laughing.

  “Lieutenant, remember your position,” Royce told him. Fligh stopped laughing, but continued to regard Selena with a kind of contemptuous amusement. Obviously, he did not care for her.

  “You speak of understanding,” Selena was saying. “Well, I understand you well enough.”

  Royce decided something. The cold, ironic smile appeared on his mouth. “All right, Selena,” he
said, with no feeling at all. “You may think yourself right about everything. I’d best admit my faults. A piece is just a piece to me, whether it be gold or womanflesh. There. I have confessed. How do you like it?”

  But Selena had already turned away from him, and was racing down the passageways of the Highlander, past surprised sailors, to the security of the cabin. She was trembling, and her heart thundered, but she felt a savage satisfaction. Royce Campbell had been exorcised from her heart, burned from her brain. Now she would turn to duty, to saving the family, to the struggle for the future.

  “Well, did you speak to him, Selena?” Brian asked grimly, coming up the passageway with a bag of gear in a sack across his shoulder. Lord Seamus slumped along behind him, bowed and disconsolate.