Hot Winds From Bombay (10 page)

“Aye. And no doubt the result would be the same. She’d wait and pine her life away until you came back to marry her.”

“Then you approve, Captain Whiddington?” The question was spoken with almost painful relief.

The man’s gray head shot up and his steely eyes narrowed. “No, dammit, I don’t approve! If it were up to me, I’d make old maids of both my girls, pretending to the day I die that they’re too young to marry. But what would that make me? Some kind of ogre in their eyes. If this is what she wants, so be it. You have my blessing.”

Zachariah rose solemnly and went to the desk, offering his hand to the captain, who shook it firmly. “You do me a great honor, Captain Whiddington.”

“Mind you treat her well! As long as you do, we’ll be friends. Raise a hand to her in anger or drunkenness, and your death is a foregone conclusion.”

“You have no need to fear for her. I love her more deeply than I ever believed was possible.”

They shared a toast to the occasion and passed a quarter hour in man talk. Then Zack was given his cue to depart. He desperately longed to see Persia to give her the good news. But that was for her father to do. He would come to supper the following evening to make it all official. At that time, he might kiss her cheek to seal the engagement. They would be married in two weeks at the church on Main Street. Zack had asked for a shorter wait, but the captain told him that would be impossible.

Zack walked out the front door never feeling his boots touch solid earth. Light, powdery snowflakes were beginning to fall. They swirled in pretty patterns in the lamplight streaming from the windows. Moving on without even realizing he was walking, Zack shuffled through the fine covering of snow until he stood in the exact spot where he had first seen Persia. He glanced up. She was there at the window, and his heart gave a sudden, soul-wrenching lurch. He ached to have her in his arms, to kiss her, to touch her, to tell her all the wonders of love that they would share.

“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon, my darling.”

Persia stared down at the darkness. She couldn’t see Zack below on the street, but somehow she knew he was standing there, watching her window. She had heard the front door close moments before. And the gooseflesh prickling her skin told her that someone was staring up at her unshaded window. It had to be Zack…
dear Zack.

If only she could see his face. She would know then what had happened with her father. How could she wait any longer? This was a slow kind of death—waiting and not knowing. She had half a mind to storm downstairs and demand to know what had been said between them. After all, it was
her
life that was being decided! But no. She could not disrupt the accepted way of things. She would simply have to try to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning to find out the news—good or bad.

It
had
to be good! She wouldn’t allow herself to think of any other possibility.

Persia had changed out of her blue-and-yellow dress and now wore a long flannel gown that covered her from ankles to chin. The soft material caressed her bare flesh as she moved, causing her nipples to respond each time she thought of Zack.

Tucking the hem under her feet, she curled up in the window seat and stared out at the swirling flakes dancing past. She let her mind flow, imagining what it would be like to snuggle close to Zack’s warm body on such a night. In his arms, she would have no need of long gowns to keep her from the cold. She would be wrapped in his love and filled with the heat of their newfound passion. Even now, she could imagine how it felt to have his full lips taking possession of hers, demanding with his silken tongue that she obey his fierce will. A weakness of willing surrender washed over her. She could remember the intense sensations aroused deep within her when his fingers fondled her breasts. What would it be like when no fabric stood as a barrier keeping flesh from aching flesh? She shivered at the mere thought, and a gnawing ache took possession of her deepest, most private parts.

“Zack,” she sighed. ‘Oh, my darling, how I need you!”

Persia had drifted off to sleep dreaming of her wedding night by the time her father finally gave up work at his desk and climbed the stairs wearily. He had planned to finish early tonight. He needed Victoria’s softness beneath him, surrounding him. He had planned to make slow and satisfying love to her tonight.

But now it was late. He would probably have to wake her. And once she heard his news, she would be in no mood to lavish affection on him. He knew that the last thing she wanted for either of her daughters was marriage to a seafaring man. Victoria was adamant about it. But what could he do? They were in love. And the man had saved her life! But for Zachariah Hazzard and his daring rescue, they might be anticipating a funeral now instead of a wedding.

Asa moved down the hallway silently. Both his daughters’ doors were closed and their rooms quiet and dark. He didn’t want to wake them. Reaching for the brass handle to the bedroom he shared with Victoria, he turned it soundlessly. She was sleeping, her lovely dark hair spread out on the pillow like lush strands of black silk thread.

He undressed and pulled on his nightshirt before waking her. When he reached the bed, he touched her linencovered breast, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “My darling?”

Her eyes fluttered open and a slow smile curved her elegant mouth.

“Home from the sea, my captain?”

“Aye, woman! And demanding my usual welcome,” he said in a teasing voice.

“Well, you shan’t have it!” She turned away from him, playfully daring him to steal a kiss from her.

Instead, he touched her arm lightly. “Victoria, we must talk.”

She turned back to him, her smile gone and a worried look in her eyes. “What is it, Asa? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, darling. It’s just that we may be about to lose one of our girls.”

She sat up in bed, her face wild with apprehension. “What are you saying?”

“It seems love has struck, my dear.”

Her worried look smoothed itself into a mask of delight. “You mean that’s what Seton wanted to talk to you about? He’s finally asked to marry Europa?”

Asa waved a hand in annoyance. “No. No. He only wanted to ask my advice on some tedious point of nautical law. A pure waste of my time. Persia would have known the answer to such an elemental question. It’s Zachariah Hazzard. He made an honest and noble plea for Europa this evening.”

“You turned him down, of course!”

Asa reached out and stroked his wife’s cheek. “Dearest, how could I? They’re in love.”

“I won’t have it!” she stormed. “She’ll be no better than a widow most of her life. I have it all planned. She’s to marry Seton Holloway.”

“That’s
your
plan, Victoria. I believe Europa has plans of her own. We can’t stand in the way of her happiness. Not when we know the wonders of love.”

As he spoke, Asa stripped the gown from his wife’s shoulder, baring one breast. The nipple stared up at him—wide, erect, inviting. He circled it slowly with the center of his palm, and Victoria caught her breath.

“Would you deny your own daughter such pleasures with the man she loves as you and I have found together, my darling?” He whispered the words onto his wife’s bare flesh and felt her breast shudder against his hand in response.

“Don’t talk of such things. It’s indecent to think of one’s own daughter doing… feeling… ah-h-h!”

Asa kissed her nipple, letting his tongue tease its tip just before he sucked it into his mouth. Victoria fell back among the pillows, unable to offer any further protest to her daughter’s marriage or to her husband’s needs.

All the while, their daughter Persia lay wrapped in the down quilts of her bed, dreaming of the time when she could give up her body and her love to the man of her choice—Zachariah Hazzard—having no idea that he had unwittingly promised himself to her sister, Europa.

Europa was up early the next morning. She swept into Persia’s room without knocking, her face aglow with anticipation.

“My stars, Persia! You’re not dressed yet? You know, of course, that Seton asked Father for my hand last night. It seems to me you’d have a little more consideration and hurry for once in your life. It’s cruel to keep me waiting like this. I was awake all night. I can hardly bear it a moment longer. Father
must
make the announcement at breakfast.”

“It’s only six-thirty, Europa. Father is probably still sleeping.” Persia started to add that she was just as excited and eager to get to the breakfast table as her sister. But she stopped herself. What a grand surprise it would be when their father announced
two
engagements over breakfast! Yes, it would be worth the wait just to see the look on her sister’s face.

While Europa paced the bedroom, her lavender-blue woolen skirt whispering over the floor, Persia did up the last of the pewter buttons at the neck of her red-and-black Scots plaid dress. She brushed her hair out and let it hang to her waist. Her fingers were trembling far too much to pin it up or even to braid it.

“I’m ready,” she announced.

Europa turned to her younger sister, and suddenly her haughty composure slipped. Tears brimmed in her eyes and her lower lip quivered.

“Europa, whatever is the matter?” Persia cried. She’d never seen her sister this way.

“Oh, I’m so frightened!”

The next instant she flung herself into Persia’s arms and let out a sob.

“Frightened of what? Surely not of Seton. You love him, don’t you?”

Europa, fighting for control, stepped away. “Love him? Why, I haven’t the vaguest idea whether I love him or not. I’m
used
to him. I know what to expect from him. But
lovel
Actually, I’ve never put much stock in that emotion. It just comes naturally after marriage, I’d always supposed. That’s not troubling me in the least.”

Persia stared at her sister, unable to form an answer. How often she had felt jealous of Europa, but not this time. It must be dreadful not to know about love!

“Then why are you so upset?”

The lip commenced trembling again. “Supposing Father said no. I’m practically an old maid now. And if I had to start all over, allowing some new suitor to woo me, I’d be gray and arthritic before he proposed.”

“Oh, bilge water!” Persia replied, using her favorite sailor’s curse. “Is that all that’s bothering you? You know Mother is all for this match. She wouldn’t have allowed Father to turn down Seton’s proposal.”

“I certainly hope you’re right.” Europa laughed suddenly, and the tears dried at the same instant. “You know, for a time I thought it might be interesting to try taking Zachariah Hazzard from you. But then I saw that he was only toying with your affections anyway and I lost interest. Still, he came in handy. Seton certainly jumped right in to pop the question when he saw me making eyes at Zack. He’s a fascinating man all right. But he’ll never be a one-woman man. Why, I imagine he has girls in ports all over the world. No, he’s not the sort for me. And you’re lucky you’re too young to have your head turned by his pretty talk. Because that’s all he is…
talk!
The woman who agrees to marry him will have a
glorious
wedding night and then live in misery for the rest of her life.” She cocked her head and gave Persia a sly smile. “Still, it might be worth the pain to spend just one night in those great, muscled arms of his, to be the victim of his ravenous kisses from dark till dawn. He is such an
animal!
” She finished in a husky whisper, with a shudder of delicious dread.

Persia was seething inside, but she managed to control her outward emotions. So Zack was all talk, was he? Well, Europa would soon find out the truth of the matter. As for the glory of her wedding night, she could hardly wait. But there would be no misery following it, only love… to the grave and beyond. And her mind was made up. She and Zack would move to Boston and make their home there once they were married. She refused to spend the rest of her life having Europa remind her daily that she, too, had been held in Zack’s arms and had tasted his kisses. In Persia’s eyes, such vicious, sisterly taunts would be grounds for murder.

The tinkling of a silver bell signaled the sisters that breakfast was about to be served. Persia was still furious as they started downstairs, but with every step her racing pulses calmed. Europa would soon have to eat her words with her oatmeal for breakfast. Oh, what a joy that would be!

Both girls sensed good news in the air the moment they reached the floor below. Breakfast was not set in the little blue room off the kitchen where they usually ate their morning meal, but in the formal dining room with its lovely mural. Once more, elegant lace graced the table and the best china lay gleaming in place. Persia and Europa exchanged knowing glances as they entered.

“Well, ladies, won’t you be seated?” their father invited, a merry gleam in his silver-gray eyes.

There wasn’t the slightest hint of the smell of oatmeal in the air. Instead, the mouth-watering aroma of cinnamon and apples drifted in from the kitchen. Dried apples were a well-guarded commodity in the Whiddington household, kept in barrels in the root cellar. Although the Whiddingtons had a fine orchard out back, most of the fruit it produced was sent on the ice ships to India, where fresh frozen apples brought their weight in silver. The bright red beauties were too dear to be consumed in large quantities by the household.

“Apple muffins? Why, Mother, what’s the special occasion?” Europa sounded as if she hadn’t the faintest idea in the world of what was going on.

“Sit down, dear, and let Fletcher serve us. Then your father has a few words to say.”

Fletcher eased his way into the room like a blue-clad specter, gliding soundlessly from one chair to the next, serving the prized apple muffins with fresh-churned butter, apple jelly, and thick slabs of honey-cured ham. As much as the girls would have wished it, he could not be rushed. The native servant was as methodical as the tattooed pattern dotting his face. Finally, he poured coffee, tea, and chocolate, then disappeared.

“Well, Captain?” Victoria was back to the usual formality she used in front of family, friends, and strangers alike. This might be the same dear husband who had caressed her to frenetic ecstasy in the privacy of their bedroom last night, but now the door to that room was shut, and he was no longer “darling,” but “Captain Whiddington” to his wife. “I believe it is time.”

He chewed the rest of his muffin with excruciating care, swallowed, then reached for his coffee cup and drank deeply. Persia and Europa both sat bolt upright in their chairs, their mouths closed to food until they heard what their father had to say.

As usual on such auspicious occasions, the captain was not one to get straight to the point. He was a firm believer in preamble at the speaker’s rostrum.

He rose slowly, pushing out from the table, and stood, gripping his napkin as if it were the helm of a ship. “Ladies… ahem. It is with great pleasure and, I admit, no small amount of fatherly pride that I make this announcement to you today. It has been evident for some time now that you, Europa, are the most sought-after maiden in all of York County. I have lost track over the years of how many suitors have come and gone. This doesn’t surprise me. You were a cunning child, and now you are a fetching woman—as bright as you are beautiful.” He paused and smiled directly at her.

“Thank you, Father.” Europa’s voice was as thin as a cobweb.

“No thanks to me, my dear girl. Your mother deserves all the credit.” He extended a hand toward his wife as if he expected her to rise and take a bow. Victoria only smiled and nodded encouragement for him to get on with it. He did, turning to his other daughter.

“Persia, my dear, I see that you are following in your lovely sister’s footsteps. In that gown you were wearing yesterday—”

“Captain!”
Victoria interrupted, a scold in her voice.

He cleared his throat once more before he continued. “Your day will come all too soon, I fear.”

Persia frowned. Something about his tone and her mother’s interruption set her on edge. What was he saying? That her time had not come yet? It certainly sounded that way. Had he accepted Seton’s petition for Europa’s hand, but rejected Zack’s offer for hers? But why? It had to be her age. Still, she was no younger than her mother had been when she had married. Suddenly she felt faint and sick. Her father’s next words didn’t help the feeling any.

“Europa, last night a young man came to me and asked for your hand in marriage. Although your mother had some reservations at first, she has now agreed.”

Now Europa was frowning. Her mother had pushed for her engagement to Seton Holloway all along. Why would she suddenly raise objections? And
what objections?

“We have discussed the matter thoroughly and are in total agreement that the man is worthy of such a lovely and gracious wife. He assured me that even when he is away you will be well taken care of.”

“Away?”
Europa said the word without even being conscious that she had spoken aloud.

“Why, of course, my dear. You don’t expect that he would give up his life’s calling to marry? That would be demanding too much, even of a man who loves you so dearly.”

“But Seton never goes anywhere. He’s
always
right here. Sometimes I wish he would go down to Boston or up to Portland… anywhere, just to give me a few hours to myself. Where on earth is he planning to go, Father?”

Captain Whiddington’s face had gone pale and blank. He looked to his wife. Her smile had vanished.

“Europa dear,” Victoria said gently, “I’m afraid we aren’t talking about Seton.”

“But didn’t he speak to you last night, Father?”

“Yes. About nautical law and some other gibberish that I never even listened to. The man is as dull as last month’s news. He seemed never to get to the point of what he wanted to say. The thought struck me that he came to speak to me on one subject, then lost his nerve and fabricated questions that didn’t interest him any more than they interested me.”

“Then what are you talking about, Father?” Europa’s voice was nearing an hysterical pitch.

“Your
engagement,
of course!”

“To whom, if not Seton?” she demanded, rising from her chair.

“To Zachariah Hazzard! He came to me last night and asked to marry you, Europa.”

Persia felt the words stab through her heart as if her father had just thrown one of Fletcher’s native spears and struck his target point-blank.
No!
There had been some mistake! Zack couldn’t have asked for Europa’s hand. He loved
her!

Persia turned to Europa for salvation. She knew her sister cared nothing for Zack. She would laugh at the mistake their father had made and set the record straight. Tonight, when Zack came to dinner, they would
all
have a good laugh over it. But when she looked at her sister, Europa was smiling and nodding.

“So, he really did it! I actually thought he was joking when he mentioned marriage to me, Father.”

“Are you telling me that Mr. Hazzard’s proposal is some sort of jest? I won’t have it! No one plays my daughter for a fool or me, either!”

“Calm yourself, dear. Remember your heart,” Victoria cautioned.

“Damn my heart! I’ll have the man keel-hauled!”

“Father, don’t get so upset,” Europa said pleasantly. “I’ll gladly marry Zachariah Hazzard. He’s quite the most fascinating man I’ve ever met.”

Persia’s intake of breath was heard all around the table.

Her mother rushed to her and patted her back. “Dear, are you all right? Don’t eat your muffin so fast. You’ll choke on it.”

Persia was choking all right, but not on an apple muffin. Suddenly, Europa had stolen her black-and-white puppy all over again. Only this time the pain was far worse. This pain was excruciating, soul-rending,
killing.
In that awful moment, a tale Fletcher had told her came to mind. He had said that in some ancient culture the native priests sacrificed their victims to the gods by cutting out their hearts with razor-sharp ceremonial knives while the poor human creatures still lived. She had been both fascinated and horrified at the very idea. Now she knew how those victims of antiquity had felt. She knew their pain… their hopeless anguish.

“Persia dear, are you ill?” asked her mother.

Before Persia could answer, Europa piped up, “Don’t worry about her, Mother. I’m afraid she’s suffering a sudden attack of envy. She’s had quite a crush on Zachariah since first they met.” She turned her glowing but false smile on her sister. “Think of it, Persia darling, you’ll have Zack as a big brother now. Won’t that be wonderful? And your time will come, as Father said.

Perhaps Seton might be right for you. He’s very nice, even if he isn’t the most romantic fellow in the world. And he’s always told me that he’s quite fond of you.”

Fond? Fond!
Persia would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so numb. Fond was hardly what she wanted from a husband! Zachariah Hazzard was the man she wanted, and she wanted a husband’s love from him, not a brother’s!

If his marriage to Europa was to take place right away, before he went back to sea, she wouldn’t even have a chance to talk to him—to find out what happened—before the wheels were set into irreversible motion. Once her mother had spoken to Reverend Osgood and reserved the date for the church, there would be no calling it off. And she was sure to visit the minister this very morning with so many preparations to make in such a short time.

“Excuse me, please,” Persia said, her mind set now on a course of action. “I feel like taking a walk.”

“But dear, it’s snowing out,” her mother protested. “And besides, you haven’t even eaten your apple muffin.”

“Let Europa take it,” she replied, wanting to add,
She takes everything else that belongs to me.

But this time she really couldn’t fault her sister. Something had gone amiss. Europa could only be blamed for accepting what was handed to her.