Commanding Heart (17 page)

“Find that goddamn necklace” Gibson
said in a voice like cold steel.

Catherine did not challenge this
ruthless man any further. There was no familial affection in his heart whatsoever,
no basic human decency to appeal to for mercy. Catherine had no option. She
lifted herself gingerly from the floor and searched the destruction for the
necklace she knew was there. In moments, its wicked gleam shone forth at her
from deep within the pile of rubble. Catherine lifted the weighty pendant and
rose to her feet. With trembling hands she opened its clasp and placed the
oppressive chain round her own neck. Without a word, she limped forward from
the destruction and grimly followed her father downstairs to rejoin Monsieur
duMont.

Chapter XXI

Catherine’s ordeal did not lessen as
the night progressed. Fervently she hoped the brutal private scenes would abate
on reaching the Governor’s ball; a public place and the presence of others must
provide temporary shelter from the two men by her side. The reality was quite
the opposite. Catherine’s father left for the gaming tables as soon as they
arrived, leaving her in the power of Monsieur duMont.  He roughly steered the
unfortunate young woman inside, making it abundantly clear that she would not
escape him this evening. Instead of the solitude and anonymity she hoped to
find in the crowded room, Catherine was instead the object of gossip and
speculation. Philippe duMont paraded her before all and sundry, wearing her on
his arm like an ornament, leaving no one in question about his intentions. Time
and again Catherine was presented to acquaintances of her father’s and of
duMont’s; time and again she made the same half-hearted replies to their
questions; time and again she endured quizzical glances and whispered tittle-tattle
as she turned to go. Catherine’s humiliation was complete.

In the glittering main ballroom, the musicians
made ready for the dancers. Catherine braced herself for the next of her punishment.
She knew without a doubt that duMont would lead her to the floor, making a
suitable spectacle of them both. At the thought her face burned with anger and
the heat of tears pricked at her eyes. Catherine turned away from her companion
and shifted the great pendant uncomfortably; its bulky weight pressed against
her collar bone like a prisoner’s chain, a constant reminder of her bondage. A
slight touch at her elbow made her jump, making the pendant bounce heavily
against Catherine’s heart. She turned, expecting duMont, but to her amazement
she was met by the smiling face of her uncle.

“Matthews!” Catherine cried with
abandon, throwing herself into his arms with no thought of propriety.
“Catherine! My own dear girl” he replied warmly. The lieutenant lifted her off
of her feet in an enormous hug and spun her in a circle. Catherine laughed
aloud with relief and joy, unconcerned by the many looks they were receiving.
“How do you come to be here?!” she cried delightedly. “I had no thought that we
might meet tonight!” Matthews gave her a good natured grin; “Do you not think a
polished officer such as me is a fine addition to a party?” he asked
laughingly. Catherine gave him another embrace but was pulled away almost at
once. Philippe duMont stood behind her, his hand firmly upon her arm, a grim
smile on his face as he took in the sight of Lieutenant Matthews.

“I do not believe we have been
properly introduced,” Matthews said to duMont with great charm. “I am
Lieutenant Robert Matthews, Catherine’s uncle.” He gave a sweeping bow, doffing
his bicorn with relish. Catherine stared in surprise at her uncle’s welcoming
speech and generous manner with duMont. Something was amiss here but she could
not tell what. What game was her uncle playing at? Philippe duMont seemed to
have similar suspicions, but surrounded by curious onlookers, he had no option
but to match Lt. Matthews’ courtesy: “It is a great pleasure to meet
Catherine’s uncle, and such a brave sailor of His Majesty’s Navy” duMont
returned with a forced smile.

The musicians now began to play in
earnest and several couples moved to the floor in unison. Catherine stiffened anxiously
but relief was at hand: “Catherine, my dear” Matthews said loudly, “I believe
our intended dance aboard
HMS Triton
was forgotten when those French
knaves hove in view and we had to give chase!” Catherine could feel duMont
bristling beside her at Matthews’ words. The lieutenant made no apology and
continued cheerily: “Well, there is nothing to stop us now, my fine girl. Come
take a turn with your uncle!” and with that, Lieutenant Matthews led Catherine
away from duMont before he could offer any protest.

When she reached the dance floor Catherine
had to stifle the urge to laugh. At the side of the room duMont stood glaring;
in front of her danced Uncle Matthews, grinning like the cat who swallowed the
canary. The two things were so incongruous that she could only smile. As they
passed one another in the steps of the dance, Uncle Matthews leaned toward her
and whispered with urgency; “You must attend to what I say Catherine and all
will be well.” Catherine looked sharply at her uncle, his words the echo of
what Captain Knight had said just the day before. “Look sharp!” Matthews said,
forcing a smile to his face and nodding at her to do the same. Catherine
managed to regain her composure and smiled with pretended cheer as they stepped
lightly away in the rhythm of the dance. When the pattern brought them together
once more, Catherine looked to her uncle again. “My message is this,” Matthews
said quickly. “You must keep dancing. Whatever else happens tonight you must
stay on the dance floor and out of reach of your father and duMont.” Catherine
looked at her uncle completely perplexed: “I will try, Uncle Matthews, but how?
Are we to dance together like this all evening? I have no other acquaintance in
the room.” she asked in confusion. Before he could answer they were parted in
the final steps of the quadrille. When they came together to bow farewell her
uncle was smiling broadly; “You are not alone, Catherine. Tonight you are
surrounded by friends.”

With those quizzical words, Matthews
turned her around slowly and Catherine was met with the pleasant sight her old
friend, Doctor Lyons. “May I have the pleasure of this next dance?” the
gentleman said with a sincere bow. Catherine nodded her acknowledgement,
astonished at his presence and by Matthews’ deft handling of her transfer.
Monsieur duMont had been approaching them with great speed but before he could
give protest, Catherine was whirled away in a cotillion by the ship’s good
doctor. Matthews in turn stopped duMont and, with gracious manners and friendly
generosity, began to talk endlessly about his ship, his many voyages, and a
variety of other useless details that duMont cared for not in the least.

Philippe duMont bore the lieutenant’s
conversation with little grace, watching Catherine as a wolf follows its prey.
As the dance was drawing to a close duMont attempted to excuse himself but
Lieutenant Matthews was prepared. Just as Doctor Lyons gave Catherine a polite
bow of farewell, one of the
Triton’s
lieutenants stepped forward
claiming the honor of a dance with the lovely Catherine.  Doctor Lyons now
joined Matthews and the two ceaseless conversationalists held duMont captive
once more.

Over and over, the same ridiculous
scene played out on the ballroom floor. Monsieur duMont would struggle to free
himself from Matthews’ lavish attention only to find Catherine engaged yet
again by what seemed an endless supply of lieutenants, first mates, doctors and
midshipmen from
HMS Triton
. On the dance floor, Catherine delighted in
the arrival of each new face. To be reacquainted with these brave men would be
welcome on any occasion but tonight it was doubly so. In their familial embrace
she felt safe once more, her spirits lifting with hope. And so Catherine
danced, whirling about the floor without pause, obeying her uncle to the
letter.

It did not take Monsieur duMont long
to see the ruse that had been set by Matthews. As the succession of partners continued
without abatement, duMont felt his careful control slipping away. He tried to
clear his angry thoughts and formulate a plan but he could not think with the
indomitable Matthews at his ear, ceaselessly chattering like an errant bird. At
last duMont’s firm resolve snapped and he stepped angrily away from Matthews.
“Enough!” he said heatedly, much to the amusement of curious onlookers. With
great haste, duMont turned on his heel and departed the ball room, desperate to
find William Gibson. Something very wrong was going on and they needed to make
a move at once.

Matthews watched duMont’s progress
the length of the great room. When duMont stepped out of the ball room, the
lieutenant gave a subtle nod to an officer of the Admiralty who had been casually
lounging by the door. The officer disappeared at once, following duMont
undetected as the Frenchman searched for Gibson. At almost the same instance,
Matthews noted a gesture directed at him from across the ball room. He answered
the summons with a firm nod of his head. With a final look at his niece,
Lieutenant Matthews left the room in preparation for the events that would
happen next.

On the dance floor, Catherine bowed
farewell to her most recent partner, one of
HMS Triton’s
young
lieutenants. Her injured ankle was beginning to throb from her exertions but
she would not acknowledge it – she would follow her uncle’s instructions to the
letter if it meant she had to dance all the way to the devil. Catherine looked
to where her uncle was keeping duMont at bay, only to find neither man there. “What
could have happened?” she whispered with worry. Catherine stiffened with dread
as a hand touched her elbow. She turned round with slow foreboding, certain
that the plan had failed and duMont had reached her at last.

Quite the opposite was true.

Before her was the most agreeable
sight of Captain John Knight. With grateful eyes, Catherine took in the
splendor of his immaculate uniform, its polished brass buttons and epaulettes
shining bright in the glow of the chandeliers. Catherine raised her eyes to trace
his handsome face, her heart singing as she took in each familiar detail; the
dark eyes that shone with their customary brilliance, the lines around his
mouth that accentuated firm lips, and the glossy waves of raven hair that framed
his proud face. Knight looked down at Catherine from his great height, his dark,
serious eyes regarding her while she made her silent study. His mind captured
every detail of her great beauty on this evening; the golden hair captured with
roses at the nape of her neck, her ivory skin radiant against the white of her
silk gown, her blue eyes that glistened like pools of water. Knight’s careful
eye also took in the exquisite pendant that hung round Catherine’s neck.
Catherine saw the questioning look that came into his face and she squirmed
uncomfortably as his eyes met her own. She expected condemnation but was
surprised instead to see Knight’s face break into a dazzling smile. As before,
Catherine was caught off-guard by the brilliant transformation, like sun coming
out from behind a cloud. An answering smile came to Catherine’s face, lighting
her eyes more radiantly than the jewels that hung round her neck. Without a
word, she took Knight’s arm and was led to the dance.

Every soul in the room was caught by
the spectacle of Catherine in the arms of Knight. They made a handsome couple,
to be sure – a beautiful, wealthy heiress and a brave, handsome captain. But
more than this, something in the manner of their embrace, in the way their
bodies moved and the looks they shared raised the curiosity of the crowd.
Catherine was completely unaware of this scrutiny; the world and its worries had
melted away and all that remained was the strength and solidity of Captain
Knight.

They danced unspeaking a long time
before Knight finally addressed her in low tones: “I hope the officers of
HMS
Triton
have not tired you overmuch this evening?” Catherine’s sparkling
laugh was his answer. Knight smiled with humor but a certain seriousness
remained in his eyes. As the steps of the dance brought them together he leaned
his head closer and asked earnestly; “Did you experience some… difficulty
before leaving for the ball?” Catherine started at his question, wondering what
had prompted the remark. Her face flamed in embarrassment as the heated scene with
her father replayed in her mind’s eye. Knight noted her discomfort at once. His
lips compressed in a thin line, and angry flames flickered in his dark eyes as
he awaited her response. Catherine stumbled a moment for words, finally saying
in a low voice: “There was some….. unpleasantness….. Between my father and I.
We argued….. about M. duMont” she said with trembling voice; “But I do not
understand how you can know?” she finished haltingly. Catherine looked into Knight’s
face for answers; she could sense the tension within him and felt his
protective hold tighten around her waist.

Captain Knight paused before
replying; “I have been to your father’s house this evening” he said at last
with stark simplicity. Catherine’s eyes widened. “The Admiralty went there
looking for evidence of his crime” Knight continued, “and I assisted with the
investigation. I discovered the state of your room while we were conducting our
search. Catherine,” he breathed softly, “What happened in there? Have you been
hurt” Catherine shook her head at the painful reminder. Even with Captain
Knight standing by her side she could not speak of this evening’s events. The
scars were too fresh, and the threat of danger still too immediate. Catherine turned
her head and looked away with distress. Knight saw how his questions hurt her
and he chided himself for doing so. As they turned in unison in the dance,
Knight spoke again with quiet confidence; “Catherine, you need not be afraid. I
will never let your father hurt you again, I promise.”