Authors: Bonds of Love
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Nineteenth Century, #Civil War
"Oh,"
Katherine cried, "what a conceited man you are!"
"My
dear," he nuzzled her ear. "I heard you moan with pleasure, felt you
move against me, saw your eyes hot and bright with desire."
"Oh,
please, don't; I am so ashamed," she whispered.
"For
God's sake, don't be; it's perfectly natural and good and right. Katherine,
stop fighting me. Let me draw you out of your Puritan shell, let me teach you,
let me remove all your prim barriers to happiness. Why not call a truce, forget
our past differences, begin from right now? Let us just be Katherine and
Matthew and enjoy each other. Talk to each other, give pleasure to each other,
discover a thousand delights you never dreamed of."
"No!"
She twisted out of his arms. "I gave in to weakness this morning, but
never again! I despise you; I hate you; you are everything I have always held
in disfavor. You are a cruel, unthinking brute, and now, having abused me, hurt
me, ruined my life with never a thought for me, you say, 'Let's forgive and
forget. All you have to do is submit willingly to your degradation.' Well, I
won't! I'm not some weak, girlish thing to be swept off my feet by your soft
words. I am made of sterner stuff than that. You won't find me a willing bed
companion. I shall fight you every inch of the way."
"So
I have to rape you every time I want you, is that it?"
"Yes."
He
looked at her for a moment and then shrugged. "So be it. You are only making
it harder on yourself. It won't deter me; I shall take you whenever I want.
Though I can't guarantee you will receive the same consideration that I give to
a pleasant bed partner."
"Don't
threaten me, Captain Hampton. You don't scare me; you have already done your
worst to me."
His
thick eyebrows rose mockingly. "You think so? It's obvious that you are a
very naïve girl."
Katherine
felt a rush of fear; she was suddenly very much aware of his power, of the way
his sheer male presence dominated the room. It came back to her how ruthless he
was; his gentleness this morning had made her forget temporarily his true
nature. He would not be lenient if thwarted.
To
cover her fear, she said acidly, "You are right, of course; I have very
little knowledge of torture. Unlike you,
I
did not have slaves around to
experiment on."
He
went white around the lips, as if she had struck him. Tightly he said, "As
usual, madame, you have no idea what you are talking about."
She
was about to retort hotly, but they were interrupted by a tap on the door,
followed by Peljo's entrance with a tray of food. The monkeyish little man was
completely unperturbed by the tension in the room. He grinned merrily, his
teeth flashing white against his swarthy skin, and went about putting their
meal on the table. As he went out the door, he turned to wink at them.
"What
a peculiar man," Katherine said, uncomfortable because her remark had had
a greater effect than she had expected.
"Yes,"
Hampton said stiffly. "A little odd, but extremely loyal when he has
attached his affections to one, as he seems to have done to you."
"I
am sure it will come as a shock to you, Captain, but there are people who like
me."
"It
doesn't shock me at all. I rather like you; that is, when I'm not wanting to
strangle you."
Katherine
could not repress an amused smile. She dug eagerly into her food, as did
Hampton, and both found their mood lightening as their empty stomachs filled.
By the time they finished eating, the silence was no longer oppressive, only
practical. Matthew smiled at her ability to put away her food. She could be
amusing in her innocent, natural moments, when she was not striving to be
correct or fighting with him. He had to admire her courage. Few women would
have had the nerve to pull a gun on him, as she had last night, and still fewer
would have been cool enough to actually fire it when he dived at her that way.
His sister, he knew, would have screamed and dropped the gun—not that she would
ever have had the wit to carry or draw it. Nor could he think of another woman
who would have dared to try to warn the clipper after his threats, as she had
done yesterday. Or have coolly regrouped her forces and taken up the battle
anew after having met defeat, as she had today. His admiration, however, tended
to be obscured by the blinding anger she so often provoked in him. He had never
met a woman who could make him fire up so easily. She was a stubborn woman, and
it would be difficult to vanquish her and destroy her repression. But when he
did—he smiled at the prospect. He had tasted the passion that lay buried deep
within her. She would be worth the effort, he was sure of that.
Katherine
pushed away her plate with a satisfied air and said, "Captain Hampton, I have
a favor to ask."
He
smiled. "What? You must know I would grant any wish of yours."
She
snorted indelicately at that and said, "My dress is ruined beyond repair,
and I need something to wear."
"And
you think I might have one hidden up my sleeve?"
She
glared at him. "It seems to me that it is up to you to remedy the
situation, since it is your fault my dress is ripped apart."
"Perhaps
I don't wish to remedy the situation," he said and reached across the
table to run a casual finger between the edges of her cloak and lightly down
the valley between her breasts.
She
jerked away and said angrily, "All right. I shall just go around like this
then." She flung off her cloak and sat facing him defiantly in her thin
chemise. "Shall I wander about the deck like this, too?"
"That
might be a trifle cool, don't you think?" he said lightly, but his eyes
devoured her hungrily. He swallowed hard. "Perhaps we had better find you
something to wear. Otherwise I would be too tempted to spend all my time here
in my cabin. Let's look in the good captain's trunk; perhaps he was taking home
some French creation to his wife."
The
trunk was locked, but he found a key in the desk and opened it. On top lay a
frothy white lace scarf to lay delicately around a woman's shoulders. Katherine
pounced on it with a pleased cry and had to try it on, standing on tiptoe to
see how it looked in the little mirror above the dresser.
"It
looks lovely on you," he said, and she blushed at being seen doing such a
vain, feminine thing.
Next
he pulled out a crimson satin evening gown with a plunging V-neckline and held
it up, laughing, "I think I have more respect for our friend."
Katherine
gasped. "That couldn't be for his wife!"
"Not
unless he has a highly unusual wife. No, I think he must have a mistress hidden
somewhere. Here, put it on."
"No,
I cannot wear that!"
"I'm
not asking you to parade around deck in it. Just try it on for me; I want to
see how you look in it."
"Absolutely
not!" Katherine said stoutly, though her fingers itched to snatch the dress
from his grasp. She longed to see what such a wicked dress looked like on her.
"You
are the most exasperating wench," he said and tossed the gown onto the bed
and continued digging in the trunk.
"Ah,
here is the wife's dress," he said triumphantly, holding up a sensible
brown wool dress.
"Why,
how awful!" Katherine exclaimed, and Hampton roared with laughter.
"Well, it
is
awful: to bring some wicked woman a beautiful satin
dress—even if it is outrageous—and bring your wife only a plain, ordinary day
dress. I'll wager this lovely scarf isn't for his wife, either."
Hampton
sat back on his heels and looked at her. "No doubt his wife is fortyish
and quite plain and very monotonous; whereas his mistress probably has wild
tawny hair and golden eyes like a lioness and a very sensual mouth."
Katherine
blushed and looked away in confusion when she realized that he was speaking of
her. He rose and came to stand very close to her. He adjusted the lacy scarf
about her shoulders and then cupped her face between his hands and turned it up
so that he was staring down into her eyes. She looked up at his face, hovering
hawklike above hers, at his wide gray eyes, his high, fierce cheekbones, his
wide, full lips. Suddenly she realized that she wanted very much to feel those
lips on hers. He smiled at her as if he could read her thoughts, and lightly
ran his thumb across her lips.
"You
would like to be kissed, wouldn't you?" he said in his low, husky voice.
"My dear, all you have to do is just stretch up a little and put your lips
on mine."
She
frowned at him, looking like an obstinate child, and he smiled and released
her. "Have fun with your new possessions, Katherine. Until this
evening." He bowed slightly and left.
Katherine
grimaced at the closed door and stuck out her tongue. "Monster."
After
Hampton left, Katherine tried on the red dress. Without her stays it was a
little tight, and it was too short, ending at her ankles, but even in the
inadequate little mirror, she could see that it looked very good on her. It was
shockingly indecent, of course; she could not wear any underclothing under the
bodice, it was cut so low—but her unusual coloring could take the strong red as
many could not, and it set off her figure admirably. The neckline revealed a
great deal of her breasts, as well as the flawless ivory skin of her chest; it
was the sort of dress that kept a man trembling in hope that some sudden move
would expose even more. All it needed, she decided, was her ruby drop nestling
in the hollow of her throat. She smiled to think of what Matthew's expression
would be if he were to see her in this.
Which
is why, she told herself firmly, taking it off, he will not see me in it. She
folded the dress and put it back into the trunk. Then she tried on the dark
brown dress. It also was too short, and hung loosely on her, even uncorseted as
she was. Sighing, she rummaged through the trunk some more and found a girlish
print with a scoop neckline, which was much too tight as well as too short. She
decided that this must have been meant for his daughter.
Once
again, Katherine dug out the sewing kit and whiled away her afternoon altering
the brown dress. When she finished, she put it on and looked at herself in the
mirror. Serviceable and dull, she decided, and heaved a profound sigh. Donning
her cloak and muff, she went to the door, determined to scream until someone
let her out, if necessary. To her surprise, the door was unlocked. She
shrugged. He was right; no point in locking the door now, since what she had
been trying to escape had already happened.
The
brisk sea air immediately lightened her spirits. She leaned against the railing
and looked out to sea, remembering how desperately she had searched the horizon
yesterday for sign of a ship. Now she hoped the Navy would not catch them. It
would only mean bloodshed. As for her, Hampton would doubtless have tired of
her by the time they reached London and would gladly release her. It did not
really matter that she would have spent weeks with him instead of only days;
she was ruined either way. Of course, they should be punished for stealing the
ship and stopped before they could do any harm to Union shipping, but she did
not want to see any of the men hurt. After all, she had fed them, given them
clothes, knew their names. Compared with their lives, military considerations
didn't seem so important.
Her
gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a thin,
distinguished-looking older man. "Pardon me, Miss—"
"Devereaux,"
she said automatically and then stared at him. Who on earth was he?
"Dr.
Rackingham," he said helpfully.
"Of
course, the doctor who was with Captain Sloane. But I thought all of you were
in irons."
"Well,
I was only a passenger on the
Susan Harper,
returning home to Portland.
Captain Hampton apparently regards me as a civilian and has allowed me to
remain in my cabin. He counts me, I think, as rather harmless. Moreover, he is
quite pleased at having a doctor aboard, and I believe he wants to keep on
friendly terms with me."
"I
didn't know he ever tried to be on friendly terms with anyone," Katherine
said sarcastically.
"He
has been most amiable to me. I hope that you will be also."
"Of
course, Dr. Rackingham. We are, after all, the only 'Yankees' on this ship not
in chains."
"I
thought your accent was that of a New Englander. Tell me, how did you come to
be with all these Johnny Rebs?"
Katherine
spilled the story of her abduction into the doctor's receptive ear. The doctor
seemed quite taken aback at the story.
"But
my dear," he said, "this is dreadful. Kidnapping a genteel young
lady! He must be a madman."
"Just
a Southerner and used to having his own way, I think."
"But
he seems to be a gentleman."
"That
depends on your definition of gentleman. If it means only a certain suavity of
manners, he is capable of being a gentleman. But if it means true nobility of
mind and spirit, he will never reach it."