Gregory, Lisa (51 page)

She
groaned at the almost painful delight he brought to her. "Matthew, I love
you; I want you. Love me, please. Please," she whispered.

His
voice was incoherent, muffled against her skin. Greedily he took her mouth in a
fierce kiss as he entered her, their bodies blending in a shattering explosion
of pleasure, one blinding moment of death and rebirth and perfect unity.

Softly
Matthew kissed Katherine awake; she smiled at him shyly and glanced away. He
chuckled deep in his throat.

"My
demure little girl," he teased. "You were less inhibited last
night."

She
buried her face in his shoulder. "Was I—were you—disappointed?"

He
stared down into her eyes. "No, my love; it was the most beautiful thing
that ever happened to me." Then it was he who felt embarrassed and looked
away.

"I
love you," she whispered and kissed his shoulder. "I would do
anything for you. I am sorry for all those times I was so stubborn and refused
you."

"No,
I was a brute to force you." He smiled briefly. "Shouldn't rush your
fences, as Shelby would say. I was just so impatient to have you; you drove me
mad with desire. You still do, you know. That clean, rose-petal smell of you;
your hair; those wild golden eyes. Did you know how wide and inviting your
mouth is? Cries out to be kissed." He suited his action to his words,
covering her mouth with his.

When
at last he pulled his lips away, she said shakily, "No, Matthew, the house
is awake; they will hear us. And Pegeen will be here with breakfast."

"Are
you refusing me?" he mocked.

"No,
oh, Matthew, no." She covered his face and neck with kisses until it was
he that pulled away.

"Oh,
girl," he said unevenly. "When we sail, I am going to lock us into
our cabin and do nothing but make love to you. And we won't have to be quiet
anymore; I intend to make you moan and whimper and scream with desire. But for
now, you are right; this is no time to give ourselves away. So you hop out of
bed and get dressed before I forget our safety and take you here and now."

"Yessir,"
she saluted, and scrambled out of bed.

He
watched her dress, a faint smile on his lips. She blushed a little at his warm
gaze, but did not turn away. It was still a little embarrassing, but also
pleasing. She felt proud of her ability to stir him.

Matthew
felt bombarded with new sensations. It was scary, this new, fragile little
thing nestling in them both; he could so easily break it with a careless word
or action. He hardly knew how to tenderly nurture their seedling love. It made
him feel immensely strong and powerful and at the same time weak and bound. It
fogged his thinking, made him take her with him when it was safer for her to
stay, and made him revile himself for thus exposing her to danger even though
her plan made sense. What a tremendous responsibility lay on him now—to protect
her, think of her, control his selfishness, his temper.

"Katherine,"
he whispered fiercely and she hurried to him. "I love you; trust me;
believe me. Even though I act stupidly or unkindly, please don't turn
away."

"Matthew."
Her throat felt too full to speak, and tears glistened in her eyes. She took
his hands and squeezed them tightly.

Pegeen's
entrance with their breakfast interrupted their communication of silence, and
both of them suddenly discovered that they were starving. When they finished,
Katherine went downstairs to tell Angela that she had decided to leave the next
day, as she was absolutely unable to sleep a wink for fear they would all be
murdered in their beds. Angela grew quite agitated at the idea that she would
be left alone, and the house soon hummed with the activity of two hurried departures.

Katherine
wrote a letter to her father, and gave it and a bundle of money to her maid.
"Now promise you will go home and not give this to Papa until two weeks
have passed."

"Oh,
yes, mum, never fear," Pegeen answered stoutly.

The
maid packed up Katherine's clothes and hers in the trunks, then stuffed a dress
and a few other necessities into her own worn carpetbag for Katherine to take
to Philadelphia. Katherine quietly added the flimsy nightgown Matthew had given
her. When we get out to sea, she said to herself determinedly, then I will wear
it; and we
will
get there.

The
household retired early after their hard day. Katherine, forcing herself to
remain still as Pegeen brushed her thick hair, knew she was far too nervous to
sleep. Tomorrow they might be heading straight for their deaths. And the
responsibility lay on her shoulders, for Matthew would be sightless and
vulnerable with the bandages over his eyes. She had not realized before just
how much she depended on him to master all the crises. She bit her lower lip
and looked over at him.

He
smiled at her, that warm, lazy smile that seemed to melt all her bones,
apparently concerned only with watching her hair being brushed out.

After
Pegeen helped her into her nightgown and left the room, she turned and crossed
the carpet toward him.

"Take
off that silly nightgown," he ordered, and she obeyed him, teasingly
lingering over the buttons.

"You
vixen," he laughed as she crawled into bed beside him.

"Any
complaints?" She pretended to be aloof.

"Not
one." He pulled her to him and murmured against her hair, "Tomorrow
night I shall have to play lady's maid and brush your hair, with Pegeen not
around."

She
smiled at the thought, her gold eyes darkening seductively, and he drew in his
breath sharply. Slowly, tenderly, he began to make love to her, patiently
building the fires of her passion, until she had to clench her teeth to keep
from sobbing out her desire. Expertly his fingers enflamed her, brought her to
a shuddering ecstasy, his mouth on hers muffling her involuntary moan. She
clung to him, limp with satisfaction.

Katherine
blushed at her own wild passion, and his eyes glinted with amusement.
"Wanton," he whispered, his voice making it a caress.

Before
dawn, Matthew rose and dressed in his private's uniform, then eased himself out
the window. Clenching his teeth against the stab it caused in his ribs, he
swung down the limbs and dropped to the ground. Katherine tossed down the
carpetbag, blew him a kiss, and closed the window. He picked up the bag and
began his walk to Saint Patrick's, their agreed meeting place.

Upstairs
in the house, Katherine anxiously waited for the time to pass. She paced the
room, started dressing a hundred times and stopped, and checked and rechecked
her reticule to make sure the wad of notes and pouch of gold coins were still
there. When at last Pegeen came in with the breakfast tray, she was too nervous
to eat a bite. After crumbling a roll and sipping at a cup of coffee, she
shoved the tray aside and began to dress. For the sake of anonymity, she wore
one of her old gray dresses and a plain bonnet; catching sight of herself in
the mirror, she grimaced. How had Matthew ever seen through all that to the
wilder creature locked inside her?

And
then at last, there was Adam to carry down her trunks, and she and Pegeen were
scurrying down to the carriage, stopping only to hug Angela goodbye and tip the
staff. The ride to the train station seemed interminable, and then Adam
insisted on seeing them onto the train and into their seats before leaving.

"I
thought he was going to stay until the train began to move!" Katherine
exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

Pegeen,
now that the actual moment of parting had arrived, began to cry. Katherine gave
her a quick, fierce hug.

"Don't
cry, Peg; I shall be all right, truly. Matthew always wins. And think how happy
I will be. Remember to wait two weeks. Oh, Pegeen, I shall miss you; you have
been my dearest friend."

"You
better go now, Miss Katherine," the girl said tearfully. "And may
Saint Christopher watch over you and keep you safe."

Katherine
fled, almost in tears. Hurriedly she returned her ticket to Boston and
purchased two to Philadelphia. There was a two-hour wait for that train, and
she forced herself to make her way slowly and calmly to the cathedral. Mass was
over and the huge church nearly empty; it was easy to spot Matthew kneeling on
one of the back rows, to all appearances deep in prayer. Quietly she slipped in
beside him.

"Thank
God," he hissed. "My knees were about to give way."

"Don't
be flip," she said severely and squeezed his hand.

They
found a hiding spot behind the confessionals, and Katherine pulled a swath of
gauze from their bag and quickly began to wrap it around his eyes. Soon all of
his head above his nose was encased in white.

"I
can't
see a damn thing," he complained.

"Matthew,
please, we are in a church."

He
chuckled. "Boston-proper to the end."

"Oh,
hush, and take my arm. Carry the bag with your other arm. Ready?"

"Lead
on, MacDuff."

They
had to wait an hour in the station for the train to arrive. Though Katherine
carefully schooled her face to look only sorrowful, without fear, she squeezed
Matthew's hand until he winced. He, however, now that he was in the midst of
danger, was possessed of his battle calm. Katherine marveled at him. Had it
been she who was sitting helplessly blindfolded, surrounded by enemies, she
would have been reduced to abject terror by now.

The
journey turned out to hold no fear except that which their minds imposed.
Katherine trembled at the sight of a blue uniform, and her stomach churned with
trepidation at every stop. Each new passenger made her tense, and any look cast
their way made her sure they had been discovered. She felt every single minute
of the long day; it seemed as though it lasted for years.

When
they reached Philadelphia, they found a hansom cab and Katherine directed it to
the address Matthew had given her. It was the office of a shipping merchant,
Mercer & Sons, seemingly a very prosperous one. Katherine told the
secretary of their desire to see Mr. Mercer, and the secretary haughtily told
them to wait.

"May
I inquire your names?" he asked.

"I
represent a shipper from Havana; Hampton is the name," Matthew said.
"I believe Mr. Mercer has dealt with my firm a few times before."

The
secretary returned moments later and ushered them into Mr. Mercer's office. The
man behind the desk was a portly gentleman, at the present a trifle pale.

"See
here," he began to bluster as soon as his secretary left, "what the
devil are you doing here? Next week is my last load; I absolutely refuse to run
any more risks."

Matthew
calmly unbandaged his head. "Indeed?"

"Yes.
It's a losing proposition now, and you know it. You fellows can't last much
longer, and I think the authorities are on my trail."

"Well,
don't worry. I have not come to ask you to sell us any more goods. What I need
is passage for two on your next ship."

Mercer
peered at him. "Oh, is that all?" he said sarcastically. "My
God, man, what are you doing here? I thought you escaped from Fort Warren
months ago."

"And
so I did. But I returned, you see, and now I need passage out. Anywhere will
do. Bermuda. Cuba. A Confederate ship."

"Are
you insane? Do you realize what would happen to me if they found out I helped
you escape?"

"I
know what will happen to you if you do not help me," Hampton returned
easily.

The
man glowered at him. "Don't threaten me, Hampton. Turn me in and your
goose is cooked."

"No,
I shan't run to the Navy with the information," Matthew said judiciously.
"But if I am unable to get out of the country and am captured, believe me,
your name will be the first word on my lips. I will have nothing to lose, after
all. Unlike you."

"The
first ship I have doesn't leave until next Tuesday. It sails for Nassau; the
Sea
Nymph,
under Daniel Josephs."