Nan Ryan (6 page)

She smiled at him and said “I’ll be fine.” The two women made small talk, but were interrupted shortly by a tall blond man asking for a dance with Kathleen. “No, thanks, I don’t think so,” she said, smiling.

Persistent, the young man said, “I’m Dan Logan and I refuse to be turned down. I’ve been watching you dance with Dawson, you love to dance and I do, too. Come on. Just one,” and he took her arm and led her to the floor.

The music was a slow waltz and the blond man pulled Kathleen close and pressed his cheek to hers. She followed his easy lead and enjoyed the dance. “Dawson is a lucky man,” he said, looking down at her. “Not only are you beautiful, you dance divinely, too. What more could a man want?” She smiled and her blue eyes dazzled him.

Dawson entered the room just as Kathleen was smiling at Dan Logan and Dan was pulling her closer. He wore a relaxed, lazy smile. When the music stopped, Dan walked Kathleen back to Dawson and said, “She’s a marvelous dancer, Dawson, and she’s a real beauty, too.”

“Yes, she is,” Dawson smiled down at her. “I think we’d better be going, dear, it’s getting late.”

“All right,” she said and they went to get their wraps.

When the big front doors closed behind the departing couple, the smile left Dawson’s face and his eyes turned cold. He took Kathleen’s elbow without a word and pulled her down the long walk. His grip was so tight it hurt her arm. She looked up and saw the strange expression on his face and was puzzled. “Dawson, you’re hurting me,” she said. He gave no answer and didn’t loosen his grip on her arm. He shoved her up into the carriage and climbed in beside her.

“What’s wrong?” she said, cringing at the look on his face. He didn’t turn his head to look at her. “Dawson, look at me. What is wrong with you? You’re acting so strange, you frighten me. I’ve never seen you like this.”

He turned at last and snarled at her, “You know very well what’s wrong, so stop acting coy.” He turned and stared straight ahead.

Stunned and confused, she reached up and put her fingers to his face. He drew her hand away and placed it in her lap. “Dawson, please,” she begged, “tell me what has happened. Did the man you had a meeting with give you some bad news or did …”

All at once, Dawson whirled on her. “I leave your side for five minutes and you’re in some other man’s arms. And you’re smiling up at him and flirting and …”

“Dawson, the man’s your friend. You took me to the party, remember? He asked me to dance and I accepted because he is your friend. Why are you mad at me? I didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t.” She started crying, tears overflowing from the hurt blue eyes.

He saw the tears and it touched his heart; he was immediately sorry for making her cry. His dark eyes softened and his arm came around her and pulled her to him. He put his fingers under her chin and raised her face to his. Sad tears streamed down the fresh young cheeks and he wanted to bite off his tongue for hurting her. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m so mean and selfish, it’s just, well, when I saw you in Dan’s arms, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to run to you and tear him away from you. I’m a jealous fool, but I can’t help it. I can’t stand any man’s hands on you but mine. Please forgive me.” He wiped the tears from her eyes and leaned down to kiss the trembling lips. Her arms came around his neck and she whispered, “You frightened me, Dawson, you looked so mean and I didn’t know …”

“Oh, darling, I know and I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to frighten you, I would never, ever hurt you, you know that.”

“Well, I just don’t understand why …”

“Because, Kathleen Diana Beauregard, I lose all logic when you are around. I’m crazy about you, honey, and I can’t stand to share you with anyone else. The thought of another man touching you makes me insanely jealous.” Dawson lowered his voice to a faint whisper and put his lips to her ear. “You see, darling, I’m completely obsessed with you. You’re all I ever think of, all I ever want. The only reason I take you out to parties is because you’re young and pretty and I know you like to dress up and go out where there’s fun and gaiety. If I had my way, I’d never share you. I’d take you to my big house where there would never be anyone to dance with but me.” His lips dropped from her ear to the pulse in her neck. He softly kissed the faint throbbing there and felt it speed up. “I’m sorry I scared you, honey, I promise I never will again,” and his mouth stayed on her neck.

Softly, she sighed and murmured, “Oh, Dawson, it’s all right. I wasn’t really frightened.” Her eyes closed. He smiled and raised his head. He put his hand up to the shiny blond hair, stroked it, and gently pushed her head back against the carriage seat. Her eyes fluttered open as his mouth came down on hers. He kissed her tenderly, lovingly, barely touching his lips to hers. Between kisses, he continued with the thrilling confessions she loved to hear.

“You’re so beautiful, it makes me lose all reason; I don’t even like anyone else looking at you. I’ve been meaning to tell you that I don’t want you wearing those low cut dresses any more except when you are alone with me. I don’t want other eyes seeing the beauty of the soft white skin that belongs only to me.”

“Dawson, I didn’t know you felt that way, I thought you liked my dresses, I …”

“I love your dresses, darling, but they show too much of you to the world. I want you covered up when others are around because when I see another man’s eyes go to that sweet bosom, I can barely control my rage. I want to rip his eyes out of his head.” His lips again moved to her throat, then up to her ear.

“Oh, Dawson,” she sighed and pulled him closer.

“You are mine, Kathleen, only mine. I want you to remember that always. I would kill any man who ever tried to take you from me. You belong to me, every sweet square inch of you. Don’t ever forget it.” His mouth moved back to her lips. He kissed her and said, “These lips belong to me, they will never kiss another.”

“No, Dawson, never.”

He pulled back a little and put his hand around her neck, held it there for an instant, then let it slide slowly down over her throat to the soft flesh of her breast. “And this belongs to me,” he said, his fingers tightening slightly on the bare skin, “no one else will ever look at it again, much less touch it, do you understand?”

“Oh, yes, yes, it all belongs to you.”

“Good,” he said, moving his hand down to her waist and kissing her again. He then leaned back on the seat and she rested her head on his broad chest.

“Dawson,” she looked up at him, “can I ask you one question?”

Dawson laughed happily and looked down at her, “Yes, darling, what is it?”

“Does this mean that you have fallen helplessly in love with me, like you told me you would?”

Chuckling still, Dawson said, “Not yet, but I’m on the way.”

Five

The glorious days of the following year flew by, and yet they seemed to drag for Dawson because he had fallen in love with Kathleen. They flew by because every day Kathleen was a new delight for him, his love for her changed the most routine meetings into magical interludes. Everything about her enchanted him. The way she tilted her head when she asked one of her countless questions. The smile on her lovely face when he surprised her with some sentimental little present. The trust in her sweet face when he stood at the wheel of the “Diana Mine” with her beside him, she certain he was the best pilot on the river. The thrill he felt when she told him she wanted to steer the boat again, but only if he stood behind her with his hands on hers. The love he felt for her when he came up the steps of Sans Souci and she ran to him and covered his face with kisses, even with her parents near. The respect he had for her, making it pleasantly easy to restrain his kisses from ever getting too heated, so afraid he was of doing anything that might frighten or upset her. The pride he felt when he took her to dances and parties and saw the envy in the eyes of other men, their open admiration for the beauty of the young girl who loved only him. The anticipation of the day when she would be his wife and share every minute of each day and night with him. All these things made the love-filled days fly by for Dawson.

The days also dragged as they never had before. Each day became a new, exquisite torture because he was near Kathleen, but could not possess her completely. He ached to take her in his arms and know the full wonder of her love. He longed for the day when they were married and he could carry her away to his house, far from prying eyes and parental rules. He prayed that nothing would ever happen to come between them and break his love-filled heart. He cursed himself for the passion that made him almost ill with desire. He fantasized guiltily about kidnapping her, whisking her away from home and family and holding her prisoner, locked safely away where no one could ever be near her. He yearned for the moment when he could at last unclothe the sweet body and let his thirsty eyes drink in her youthful beauty until he got his fill. He lusted after her in an animal way that made him want to hurt her, ravage her, shock her, devour her. He loved her so much he wanted to touch her tenderly, awaken her slowly, teach her patiently, worship her openly, be her slave for life. He feared that he would wake up to find she no longer loved him, that she would send him away to live the rest of his days in lonely agony without her.

For Kathleen, mere hours, not days, flew and dragged. The hours she was with Dawson went too rapidly; his very nearness was enough to make her happy. Everything about Dawson thrilled and pleased her. The way he always said, “I love you, honey,” when he saw her, even if he’d only been gone for a few hours. His smile, so sensual and easy, lighting his handsome face whenever she entered the room and remained as long as she was at his side. The trust he inspired in her by his self-assured, take-charge manner, making her feel safe and secure when she was with him. The thrill she got when he took her in his arms and held her close, promising to love her forever. The love she had for him was so deep that it scared her with its intensity. The respect she had for him as a man, for in her eyes he was above reproach and the most brilliant person she had ever known. The pride she had in him when he took her out and she saw the envious eyes of girls and ladies when they looked at her tall, good-looking escort. The anticipation of becoming his wife someday was delicious and fun and made her heart pound at times in a pleasant, exciting way.

The hours dragged only when he was not by her side, but she experienced none of the agonies of aching, longing, yearning, lust, or fear her sweetheart endured. She was much too young, naive, and spoiled to be plagued with the complex problems that disturbed the sleep of her anxious lover. Kathleen slept like a baby, happily drifting off into uninterrupted slumber with nothing on her mind but the memory of his goodnight kisses.

Love changed the personality of both and affected the other lives they touched. Dawson became so obsessed and distracted with Kathleen that he could think of little else. Always a stickler for details, he had ruled his plantation with an iron hand. Under his watchful eye, it had become one of the most profitable cotton plantations in Mississippi. His overseer discussed all problems, plans, and profits with Dawson and Dawson was acutely aware of everything that went on at his property. Nothing got by his eagle eyes and never had.

He had been the same way about the small fleet of cargo boats he owned. He knew where each one was at every hour of the day and night and nothing was ever loaded or unloaded without orders from Dawson Blakely. He signed complicated documents with the flash of a gold pen and made profits rise miraculously with his keen business sense. There were times he would have eight to ten different business schemes going at once and was never mixed up or confused on any of them.

Even with a head full of valuable knowledge and hundreds of people looking to him for answers and decisions, he still found time to be a ladies’ man. He remembered what particular weakness each lover had and knew just how to please them. After hours spent wooing and thrilling a half dozen ladies, juggling them successfully, keeping them all happy and feeling like they were
the
special one in his life, Dawson still found time to gamble often in the joints at Natchez Under. The sun came up many mornings before Dawson Blakely headed for his waiting carriage for the ride to his mansion on the bluffs.

Then Dawson saw Kathleen Beauregard and he fell in love for the first time in his life. He became a different man. The overseer at the plantation found Dawson had lost interest in hearing about the latest ideas for the future. When he could catch Dawson for a much needed meeting, which wasn’t often, Dawson said little. He would merely nod and say, “Whatever you think’s best, Brody,” or “Buy it if you need it,” or “Sorry, I don’t have any more time.”

Sam had the same problem; getting a word with him was next to impossible. When he needed to talk about the boats and the cargo they carried, all he got was, “You handle it, Sam, I trust you,” while Dawson grinned lazily and walked away.

The women in Dawson’s life were confused and upset. He disappeared from their worlds without a word of explanation and more than one hopeful heart was broken by his sudden lack of interest. They had no idea what had happened. The last time they had seen him, he was charming, attentive, and promised to be back soon, leaving them glowing from his warm parting embrace.

Dawson even quit drinking and gambling. The gentlemen, and men who were not gentlemen, who had enjoyed his companionship at the dice tables or the drinking taverns, missed him and found it hard to understand how he could give up his favorite vices without a backward look.

Dawson Blakely was a man in love. Totally, completely, everlastingly in love, and anything that did not involve Kathleen Beauregard left him bored and impatient. There was no longer room in his head or his heart for anything but the golden-haired charmer he adored.

Kathleen was changed by love, too, though in different ways. Her mother found her more respectful, less argumentative. Her father found her less willful, more eager to please, better-mannered. Hannah found her kinder, more considerate, less bossy. Her girlfriends found her more fun to be with, less jealous of their happiness, possessed of a sweeter disposition. All of them found her more beautiful than ever as the fires of love put a new brightness in her blue eyes, new color in her white cheeks, a new radiance about her that came from within. The haughty, high-tempered, selfish young girl had turned into a more placid, easy-going, giving young lady.