Gregory, Lisa (47 page)

"Later,
then, we will meet somewhere. I can slip out of my room anytime. I shall come
to your room. It won't be like it used to—I will do anything you say, I
swear."

"Good
God, can't I make you understand? I have to think of your future—and mine. II
you were to be caught and I was embroiled in a scandal, soon my entire
masquerade would be discovered, and I would be hanged as a spy. And you would
be treated as a spy, too, knowing who I was and not revealing it. But even if
we were not caught, as soon as I am done here, I have to leave, and frankly, I
doubt if I shall manage to reach Virginia. I expect to die. And I cannot just
take my pleasure of you and then leave you here, perhaps carrying my child, to
face the world alone."

"If
that is the case, I should think you would want to have your one last moment of
pleasure, and I do, too. And these past few weeks, thinking you were dead, the
thing I have regretted most bitterly is that I am not pregnant with your
child!"

"Katherine,
you are not thinking clearly."

She
gave a short, bitter laugh and straightened her disarranged dress. "Oh,
yes, I am thinking clearly—clear through to the obvious reason you refuse to
take me—simply that you don't want me."

"Katherine—"

She
brushed past him and marched into the ballroom without a backward glance. He
leaned against the railing and sighed. God, what an unholy mess.

Katherine
lay awake all night. She felt as if she had been hit by an emotional hurricane:
first the agony of thinking him dead, then the exhilarating joy upon finding
him alive, the spiraling passion that had engulfed her this evening, and
finally, his second rejection of her. Now, bruised and buffeted, she tried to
gather herself together and return to some stability, sort everything out and put
it into perspective.

He
did not want her anymore—how could she have forgotten that? He had rid himself
of her forever back in Liverpool. Her happiness at seeing him had simply
obscured that unpleasant fact. She had thought she had rekindled a passion in him,
but obviously she had been mistaken. Katherine didn't believe his excuses for a
second: he was the most irresponsible man alive, not one to be guided by fear
for her reputation, or even for their lives. No, he was lying, for some reason
pretending to be enflamed by her, but glibly fibbing his way out of bedding
her. And the reason was obvious; he must keep her on his side because she could
identify him to the authorities. One word from her and he would be on the path
to the gallows. So he must keep her happy by paying court to her, but could not
bring himself to make love to her.

Sternly,
she shook herself. What did it matter? She had known Matthew did not love her,
or even desire her any longer. All that was important was that he was alive.
She could see him and hear his voice and feel the warmth of his lazy grin. At
least she could revel in that. He would continue to come to see her, and they
could continue their verbal games. She could drink in the pleasure of seeing
him, and she would not press him again to make love to her. No, she would be
her old self, sharp, light, amusing; she would not plague him with her love.
And perhaps, if she could manage to look pretty enough, some of his old desire
for her might reignite.

But
what was she to make of his reason for being here? He must be here as a spy or
saboteur; she was betraying her own country by not revealing his identity.
Katherine felt stricken with guilt. She knew she would never identify him: that
would mean certain hanging for him as a spy. Yet how could she, ardent Unionist
and abolitionist that she was, allow him to bring harm to her country? Her love
for Matthew had not changed her opinion of the South or of the rectitude of the
Northern cause. The South was almost defeated now, but whatever Matthew was
trying to do—and she had no doubt but that he would accomplish it—could prolong
the War, cause more lives to be lost. And she could not just toss away hundreds
of men's lives for her love of a Rebel spy.

I
must stop him myself, she thought. That is the only way. I must find out what
he is here for and somehow dissuade him or foil his plans.

And
upon setting that task for herself, she finally drifted off to sleep, just as
dawn broke.

She
awoke late the next morning and spent a long time getting dressed; she wanted
just the right dress and just the right hair style. Then she sat down to wait,
trying to cover her nervousness with needlework. But looking at her uneven
stitches, she knew that she would have to tear them all out and start over
again. Angela stuck with her, plying her with curious questions and gossiping
about the party, until Katherine felt that she would scream. At last, unable to
endure the boredom or her cousin's chatter, she went for a stroll, taking her
maid with her for propriety.

A
block away from the house, she saw Hampton coming toward her. "Miss
Devereaux," he said sweeping off his hat and bowing. "What luck! I
was just coming to call on you."

His
eyes swept over her. She looked like a delicious confection in a frosted silk
of broad purple and white chevron stripes. A dainty straw hat perched on her
curls, a lavender feather curving fetchingly downward to brush against her
cheek. Matthew felt a distinct desire to gather her up in his arms and kiss her
right there on the street.

"Commander
Forrest, what a pleasant surprise," Katherine murmured, her eyes
twinkling.

"And
Pegeen," he smiled at the pert redhead, "are you still breaking
hearts? You made my crew quite worthless, you know."

Pegeen
giggled. "None of your blarney now, Captain Hampton. You don't need it to
get me to leave you alone."

"Thank
heaven you are Irish." He winked at her and offered his arm to Katherine.

She
flashed him a dazzling smile, and they walked off together, Pegeen trailing
discreetly several paces behind.

"You
have changed, Katherine."

"Have
I? In what way?"

"You
are more beautiful than ever. You seem to have accepted your beauty."

She
looked up at him through her lashes and smiled. "You thought me beautiful;
no one else ever had. It made me look at myself in a different way. And I
decided to be daring; I was quite an outcast anyway—I had nothing to
lose."

"Katherine,
I am sorry," he began, but she tossed her head and said, "Old
cats!" so furiously that instead laughter bubbled up out of his throat.

"Don't
laugh. It is true; they are. Wouldn't even speak to me! God knows they were all
dull enough, but compared to being shut up all day with only Aunt Amelia!
Her
only topic of conversation is the Fritham family tree. Oh, except for
funerals; she is quite enamored of them, too. Of course, Aunt Amanda did come
over to scold me, and her son Jamie, too, to slobber over my hand and tell me
how he was willing to marry me, despite my wicked past."

"Ah,
another suitor," he said lightly.

"Mm.
One of your Boston cash registers."

"Katherine,
couldn't we find some place more private than the street to talk?"

"There
is a little park a couple of blocks from here."

"Good.
To the park, then."

A
few minutes later they were ensconced on a stone bench, hidden by spreading
trees, with Pegeen on guard at the gate. Matthew took her left hand in his and
lightly stroked the ring finger.

"Has
your stupid lieutenant beat a retreat, then?" he said sarcastically.

She
snatched her hand back and said heatedly, "Oh, you are a fine one to talk
about deserting me! For your information, Lieutenant Perkins did not break off
our engagement. He loved me and was very sweet and told me that it didn't
matter about you and that he would be patient and—" she choked in fury.

"What
a magnanimous man he is," Hampton said dryly. "He seems such a
paragon, I only wonder why you broke your engagement. I assume one of you must
have cried off, since you no longer wear his ring."

Katherine
clenched her fist. How could she have forgotten what an infuriating man he was!
She wanted to hit him for his lazily mocking tone, to wipe that derisive grin
from his face.

"Yes,
I called it off, not that it is any of your business. I was not going to saddle
him with a tainted wife; I have more respect for him than that. He deserves
better than your leavings! Yours and quite a few other men's—"

"Shut
up," he said grimly.

"Oh,
so that hit home, did it?" she said, perversely pleased and wounded.
"You don't like to be reminded of that, do you? That I have been handled
and used by others; that you were not the only one to take me!"

"Katherine,
for God's sake, please—"

"Oh,
I know, your delicate masculine ego," she said bitingly. "You cannot
stand to think that your property has been touched by someone else, can you?
That made me quite unworthy of you, didn't it? So low and common!"

"Don't
be stupid, Katherine; you know very well—"

"Yes,
I know very well! There is no need for you to pretend that it isn't so, that
you still want me. Do you take me for an imbecile? Don't you think I know that
you are hanging about, professing mad passion for me, so that I will not reveal
who you are? Well, you don't need to bother, because I won't tell them. I have
no desire to spread my shame all over New York, too."

He
stared at her, amazed. "Katherine, you half-wit, do you think I am
pretending
to desire you?"

She
leaped to her feet in rage. "Of course I think that. I don't believe your
protestations about 'my reputation'—what a joke! When you wanted me, you
weren't halted by any such concern!"

"Good
God, girl, are you taking me to task because I am
not
carrying you off
and raping you this time? You're insane!"

"Oh,
am I? Well, thank you very much. I would rather be insane than be a low,
blackhearted scoundrel like you! You are a snake, and spying is the perfect
profession for you. And I shall tell you something else: you are not half the
man Lieutenant Perkins is. He doesn't care about my past. He didn't throw me
over because another man had raped me, as you did."

"As
I
did! Katherine, I asked you to marry me. Is that what you call
throwing you over?"

"Oh,
yes, you asked me—because Dr. Rackingham forced you to! But you didn't want me.
You would not even touch me. Because I was spoiled; because other men had raped
me. I was not fit for you any longer, was I? Of course not. I was stupid enough
to tell you what happened, and immediately you rushed to get Dr. Rackingham to
shuttle me off. And you think I am fool enough to believe you are suddenly
burning with passion for me now? Well, I am not; so don't waste your time on
me. Go ahead and do whatever treacherous thing it is you came here to do. I
will not betray you. Just don't come near me again. I despise you, and I hope I
never have to see your face again!"

She
whirled and ran down the path out of the park. Matthew simply stared at her,
stunned. His mind could not quite comprehend what she had said. He sat down
heavily on the park bench. Back in Liverpool she had not wanted to go. For once
he had decided to do the honorable thing: he had released her because he loved
her. And she thought he had cast her away because he did not want her—and she
despised him for it. Suddenly he began to laugh. What idiots they both were!