Captain's Bride (6 page)

“Good evening, Mother, Father. Captain Blackwell.”
The last name came out with a gush of sweetness oozing an
insincerity Glory hadn’t intended. It was not an auspicious
beginning.

“Good evening, my dear,” her father said.

Nicholas pulled out her chair. “You look lovely this
evening.” His gray eyes swept her boldly, then returned to her
bosom, where the peaks of her breasts were barely concealed by the
gown. Her father glowered for a moment; then a faint smile curved
his mouth, and he picked up his wineglass as if nothing were amiss.
Her mother frowned.

“Why, thank you, Captain,” Glory said. “I’m surprised
you noticed.

This time her mother smiled and her father
frowned.

“Well, Captain Blackwell,” her mother said while two
tall Negroes served the meal: roast chicken, brook trout, com,
black beans, hominy, and fresh-baked bread. “Why don’t you tell us
what’s going on up north? With all your travels you must have heard
the latest Yankee slander on this part of the country.” She
smoothed a brunette strand into the tight coils of hair at either
side of her neck and tipped her head back, which made it appear she
was looking down her nose at Nicholas, even though he was a foot
taller than she.

“I hardly think politics is a matter for discussion
at the table, Louise,” Julian said, passing Nicholas a steaming
platter of chicken. Though the table was set for royalty, the meal
was served family style, and Nicholas felt warmed by the gesture of
acceptance.

“The
Yankees
,” Nicholas said pointedly, “have
been too busy digging out after the flood to worry much about the
Southerns.”

“Yes,” Julian agreed, “we’ve been reading about it.
Terrible thing. Seems to be affecting half the country.”

“Lots of goods have been damaged.” Nicholas loaded
his plate with food, then hefted a forkful of hominy. “Should
strengthen the market for cotton and rice.”

“It’s about time something did,” Julian grumbled.
Having been kept debt-free, Summerfield Manor had suffered far less
from the depression of ’thirty-seven than most of the other
plantations, but the Charleston economy was still languishing, as
was most of the South.

Supper continued pleasantly for everyone except
Glory. Though the captain’s glance strayed periodically to the
curve of her breast, he conversed not at all with her and for the
most part acted as if she weren’t even in the room. By the end of
the meal, Glory’s cheeks burned with indignation. She sat quietly
fuming as her mother rose from the table.

“If you’ll all excuse me,” her mother said, “I have
some sewing to do upstairs.”

“Certainly, my dear.” Both her father and the captain
stood as Louise left the room. “Nicholas, what do you say we retire
to the billiard room for brandy and cigars?” He glanced at Glory.
“Since there’s just the three of us, you won’t mind if Glory joins
us, will you?”

Nicholas lifted one comer of his mouth in what might
have passed for a smile. “I would be honored.”

“Well, I’m afraid
I
would mind, Father.
Captain Black-well owes me an apology. I was forced to tolerate his
boorish presence at supper, but I will not tolerate it one moment
more!”

“Glory!” Julian’s temper fired. “Captain Blackwell is
our guest. You will treat him with respect!”

“Not until he apologizes!”

“You, Miss Summerfield,” Nicholas said hotly,
“de-serve the lesson I mentioned this afternoon—not an
apology!”

“Stop it! Both of you.” Julian looked from one to the
other. Glory’s bosom heaved, threatening to burst from the confines
of the gown. Nicholas’s scowl was black and unyielding. They were
both standing up, glowering furiously at each other, while Julian
still sat at the table an equal distance between them. “I think you
should
both
apologize!” Julian said.

“What!” Glory shrieked. “He’s the one who—”

“And you, young lady,” Julian interrupted, “are the
one who risked injury to yourself and your horse on a dangerous
jump.”

A little of Glory’s anger dissolved. The beautiful
bay had very nearly broken its leg. “All right,” she conceded at
last. “I will if he will.” She stood in front of her chair, her
slim fingers biting into the tiny waist of her gown. “Captain?”
Julian asked.

“But of course,” he said gallantly.

Battling her temper down, Glory pressed her lips
together and took several steadying breaths. She turned her bright
blue eyes—and all the false charm she could bring to bear—on the
captain. “I apologize to Captain Blackwell for what happened this
afternoon. It was a foolish thing to do. But Raider’s taken that
jump a hundred times and I just didn’t think—”

“That is correct, my dear,” Julian put in, “you
didn’t think.” He turned his attention to Nicholas. “Captain?”

“And I, Miss Summerfield, am sorry you were forced to
walk all the way home on foot. It’s a very long walk, and I’m
certain you were more than a little tired by the time you reached
home.”

“What! That’s no apology!”

“I’m also sorry you’re still angry,” the captain
added with a teasing note in his voice. “But as I said before, you
look beautiful that way.”

Julian Summerfield roared with laughter. Glory held
her tongue, her color high. A tiny place in the back of her mind
saluted the captain’s quick wit. She decided to accept his
backhanded compliment and—for her father’s sake— concede defeat. At
least for the time being.

“All right, Captain, you win. Consider your apology
accepted.” She smiled effusively. “Billiards, anyone?” Without a
backward glance, Glory swept from the room.

Playing the game of billiards was Glory’s secret
vice. Until tonight, the fact that she played had been a closely
guarded secret. No lady of quality would ever venture into the
smoke-filled rooms where men secluded themselves to drink brandy
and discuss business, but her father had amused himself by teaching
Glory to play. In the beginning, Glory would have preferred to be
upstairs dressing her dolls or perfecting her skills on the harp or
pianoforte. But for Julian’s sake, and for the extra time it gave
them together, she had learned to play.

Glory’s mother had been furious. Louise had done her
best to end their boisterous camaraderie in the confines of the
billiard room, but to no avail. Eventually, Glory came to love the
game as much as her father did, and she was good at it. She
appeased her mother by promising not to let anyone know she played,
and until tonight she hadn’t.

She’d been amazed when her father had included her in
the invitation, but now that he had, she was bound and determined
to play the best game ever.

Glory was rummaging through a window seat at the far
end of the room when Nicholas entered. As she bent over, Nicholas
noticed again her dainty waist, admired her full bosom, which
teased the low neckline of her gown. He could easily imagine the
tantalizing curves of her bottom and her long, slender legs. Beads
of perspiration formed on his brow. Nicholas drew a kerchief from
his gray brocade waistcoat to blot them away.

Damn the woman for the provocative creature she was!
She was determined to make his stay a living hell, and she was damn
well succeeding. She was all he’d been able to think about from the
first moment he’d seen her.

Glory straightened and walked toward him, proudly
holding a long teakwood cue beautifully inlaid with ivory. It was
thinner than the others, which were kept on the wall, obviously
custom made for her slighter frame, and Nicholas fought to suppress
his amusement. She was full of surprises—delightfully so. And the
more he felt drawn to her, the more he wished he’d never come to
Summerfield Manor.

They were playing pocket billiards. Nicholas racked
up the balls, and they lagged for the break. Glory won. Nicholas
chalked it up to luck until he watched her sink the one ball on her
opening shot. The two and three followed, but she missed the
four—barely. A difficult bank shot Nicholas would probably have
missed as well. He silently saluted her skill.

Nicholas sank the next three balls with ease but
missed his fourth shot, and Julian sank only two. Glory ran the
table. The smile she lavished on him was so exceedingly smug,
Nicholas found his temper rising again. A woman playing billiards.
It was unheard of. Unladylike. The girl should be taught her
rightful place, and Nicholas was just the man who could do it! The
thought intrigued him more than a little. If only she weren’t
Julian’s daughter.

The evening wore on. They were excellent players, and
all three won their share of games. In the end, Glory came out on
top. Nicholas put her winning off to the advantage she held in her
low-necked gown. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on
the game with the girl’s beautiful bosom threatening to overflow as
she leaned over the table to place her shot. No wonder women
weren’t encouraged to play.

“Well, Captain, I hope you’ve enjoyed the evening as
much as I.” Glory smiled broadly, her even teeth pearllike in her
beautiful oval face.

Nicholas barely lifted one comer of his mouth. “I’ve
never played billiards with a woman before. I’m not certain I could
survive the experience again. But one thing I’ll say for you, Miss
Summerfield: You never cease to amaze me.”

Glory wasn’t sure whether his words were a compliment
or an insult, but right now she didn’t really care. She’d beaten
Nicholas Blackwell this evening, and she felt exhilarated.

“Good night, Captain.” She moved past him to where
her father rested in a tufted leather chair and kissed him on the
cheek. “Good night, Father.”

He patted her hand. “Get a good night’s rest, my
dear,” he told her. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Glory nodded and left the room, a satisfied smile on
her face.

Glory awoke the next morning feeling better than she
had in days. She recalled her evening with Nicholas Black-well as
she stretched and yawned. April scurried about, opening the
mosquito netting, drawing the curtains, and folding wide the heavy
wooden shutters to allow the cool morning air to cleanse the room.
At last Glory had won the upper hand with the captain. His mood had
been black by the time they ended the games. Glory smiled at the
thought. It was time someone bested the man at something. From the
look on his face, it was not a common occurrence, and Glory reveled
in her victory.

“Hurry up, chile.” Plenty bustled into the room just
as Glory finished dressing. “You got company. Mr. Eric down in the
receiving room with your daddy and the captain.”

Glory smiled. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”
Dabbing a spot of cologne behind each ear, she turned to her maid.
“April, you’d better hurry and finish my hair. We wouldn’t want to
keep our guests waiting.”

Plenty waddled back out the door, and April began
brushing Glory’s hair. She was going to visit Miriam today—she’d
had quite enough of the captain—but a little of Eric’s flattery
always gave her a bit of a lift. She’d flirt with him outrageously,
show the captain just how charming she could be.

After a final quick glance in the mirror, Glory
headed down the sweeping staircase dressed in a rose silk day
dress. While April had coiffed her hair in ringlets beside her
face, Plenty had brought her warm sweet rolls and coffee, since
she’d missed breakfast, which, from the look on her father’s face,
he was none too happy about.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Captain,” she said
pointedly and caught the hint of a frown from her father and a look
of amusement from Nicholas.

“Good morning, Glory,” Eric said. His hazel eyes
swept over her, his look of adoration unmistakable. “You look
ravishing, as always.”

“Thank you, Eric.”

“Glory, we’ve been waiting patiently down here for
hours,” her father said. “Nicholas and I are riding over to the
rice fields. Since it’s such a lovely day, we thought you might
enjoy coming with us.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Father,” Glory said.
“But I have an engagement at Buckland Oaks.”

“I’ll be happy to escort you,” Eric put in, his hazel
eyes soft.

“What kind of engagement?” her father wanted to
know.

“Miriam is planning a costume ball, and I’ve agreed
to help. Besides, her mother is sick, and I’m taking her some of
Plenty’s special remedy.”

Julian sighed in defeat. “Well, I suppose you have no
choice if Mrs. Allstor is ill.”

Glory smiled at the captain, who hadn’t said a word
and looked utterly bored by the entire conversation. “Have a nice
ride, Captain. I’ll see you at supper.”

He merely nodded, looked hard at Eric, who had rushed
to open the door, then returned his attention to her father, who
appeared not the slightest bit happy about this latest turn of
events.

Outside, Glory called for the calèche to be readied,
instructing them to leave the top open in concession to the
beautiful weather, while she conversed lightly with Eric. He told
her he’d thought of her every moment since the night of her
birthday, told her how much he adored her, and asked her to attend
Miriam’s costume ball with him. As handsome and attentive as he
was, Glory found it hard to keep her mind on the conversation. She
suddenly wished she’d gone riding with her father and the
captain—though for the life of her she couldn’t imagine why.

Glory spent the day at Miriam’s feeling the same
disquiet she’d felt before she left. She’d sent Eric packing as
soon as they arrived, telling him how much she and Miriam had to do
and placating him with a tentative acceptance of his invitation to
the costume ball. All the while she wondered what Nicholas
Blackwell and her father were doing.

Miriam only made matters worse. “How are you and that
roguish sea captain getting along?” she asked. “He is, without
doubt, the most wickedly handsome man I’ve ever seen. Why, I’d
positively die to spend the day with him. But then, I guess you
have so many beaux you hardly need another.” They were seated on
the porch, looking out across manicured gardens toward the
river.