Nan Ryan (28 page)

For a long, glorious time Dawson kissed her breasts while she lay, an arm thrown over her head, enjoying the sweet tugging of his mouth, her eyes opening and closing in happy, relaxed contentment. But soon it was no longer enough and Kathleen was clutching his shoulders, her hands roaming restlessly down the rippling muscles. “Dawson, Dawson,” she pleaded and Dawson, his dark eyes glazed with passion, raised his head and looked at her. “Please,” she whispered and Dawson moaned and began greedily to kiss her stomach, searing her with molten kisses. His knee was between her thighs, his hands on her rounded hips. He shifted until he was over her, his face inches from her own.

He kissed her softly and whispered, “Now, darling?”

“Yes, yes,” she breathed and lifted her hips to him.

His penetration was swift and deep and both gasped with the pleasure it brought. They began to move rhythmically as though they were one body while declarations of undying love spilled from their heated lips and the world around them ceased to exist. The only truth, the only love, the only joy, was in this room, this bed, as the two sweat-dampened bodies, one big, brown, and powerful, one small, white, and slender, moved sensuously in the age-old act of mating, moving closer and closer to the pinnacle of passion, unthinking and uncaring of anything, save the deep fulfillment only their lovemaking could bring. No other man on earth could make Kathleen Alexander shatter into a million pieces while she cried out in ecstasy. She clung to Dawson as wave after wave of frighteningly sweet explosions claimed her. No other woman in the world could bring to Dawson Blakely the blessed release that cleansed his soul and satisfied his raging passions. Only the small blond beauty under him had the power to take him to dizzying, undreamed-of heights, to lift him sweetly and completely to the supreme apex and then hold tightly and tenderly to him while he slowly descended with her wrapped in his happy arms.

Kathleen dozed for a few minutes. She awoke with a lazy, satisfied feeling and turned her head slowly to look at Dawson. He lay on his back, fast asleep, a brown hand on the pillow near his head. The steady rise and fall of his chest was a safe, reassuring sight to her. Kathleen turned on her side and raised upon an elbow to look at him. Content to lay and watch him, she was completely still, carefully studying the sleeping face. His thick black lashes rested on the brown cheeks, the jaw and mouth were relaxed, the whole face in repose. A knife-sharp pain sliced through her chest as she quietly adored the face, so innocent-looking in sleep, so hauntingly the same as the face of his beautiful son. Raising herself up for a better look, she was jerked back sharply. She looked around to see what was holding her. Dawson had insisted she take her long hair down to fall around her shoulders. Now she saw the brown hand flung up on the pillow was entangled in her curls. She lay back smiling and slowly loosened the long fingers, one by one, that were gripping a long strand of her hair. She freed herself without waking him, though he moaned slightly and turned his head in his sleep. She leaned over him, noticing for the first time a gold chain around his neck. She leaned closer and in the dim light saw what was on the chain. The tiny cameo was resting on his chest, nestled in the thick black hair. The cameo she was wearing that night they were together on the
Diana Mine
, the last night she had seen him. She stared at the little cameo resting on the body she loved so dearly and tears filled her eyes. She knew she had to leave, had to leave now before he woke up, for if she waited … if he woke … if those strong arms came around her again.…

Kathleen slipped from the bed, dressed quickly, and tiptoed into the sitting room. She went directly to the desk and took out a piece of blue note paper and pen and ink. With shaking fingers, she wrote a brief message, folded it, and went back into the bedroom. She placed the note on the pillow beside him and started from the room. Nearly to the door, she stopped and walked back to his side of the bed. Leaning over him, she kissed her own fingers and slowly lowered them to his lips. The fingers stopped an inch from his mouth. She drew her hand away, covered her mouth to stop the sobs that were welling up inside her. She ran from the bed, out of the room, and out of his life.

At 2
A.M.
Dawson woke. With eyes still closed and yawning sleepily, he put his hand over to feel for her. There was only the softness of the empty bed. His eyes flew open and he jumped with a start. He called to her hoping she was still in the room somewhere. Or maybe in the sitting room. But knew she wasn’t, knew she was gone. Gone without saying goodbye, without telling him if he would see her again, without telling him about their son, without a final kiss.

He saw the small blue piece of paper, grabbed it eagerly, and sat up in bed. His fingers shook as he unfolded it to read what she had written.

My Love
,

You made it a night of paradise and I shall carefully tuck it away in my memory to be taken out in private, over and over again, to relive and cherish, to sustain me for a lifetime. But, darling, it changes nothing, it can’t. If it meant anything to you, please don’t try to see me again
.

Your Diana

Dawson read and re-read the note, folded it, and held it tightly in his hand. Slowly he laid back down, his eyes turned up to the ceiling, sightless. In a fit of agony, he rolled over onto his stomach. Moving to her side of the bed, he buried his face in the pillow where the golden head of his beloved had lain. Only her sweet fragrance remained.

Twenty

Doctor Rembert Pitt’s illness proved to be nothing more than exhaustion and within two or three days he was feeling much better. Hunter willingly nursed him back to health and was greatly relieved that his uncle’s chest pains were not caused by his heart as both had feared.

“Hunter, I feel just terrible for keeping you from your long-planned trip to New Orleans with your family. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Don’t talk foolishly, Uncle Rembert. I was glad to come over and I’m just relieved you are all right. There will be other trips, so don’t worry about it.” Hunter smiled at his uncle.

Uncle Rembert raised himself up in his bed and propped two pillows behind his back. “You’re a good man, Hunter.” Rembert was silent for a minute, then said, “Hunter, I’ve been wanting to have a talk with you for some time,” and his face grew serious.

Hunter leaned back in his chair beside his uncle’s bed and replied, “Now you have the perfect opportunity, Uncle. What’s on your mind?”

“You are, son. You and Kathleen.” He looked at Hunter’s face. “Hunter, I’ve heard some news I think you should know.”

“Then tell me,” Hunter said and set his glass of wine on the night table.

Rembert looked up at the ceiling briefly, then at his nephew. “Son, I heard in town that Dawson Blakely may be coming back to Natchez.”

“Should that mean anything to me, Uncle?” Hunter said, the expression on his face never changing.

“Don’t pretend with me, Hunter. I’m your uncle, I love you.”

“Uncle Rembert, I’m not hiding anything. Dawson Blakely is free to come and go as he pleases, I don’t see that it’s any concern of mine or yours for that matter.”

“Dammit, Hunter! I’ve told you before, Blakely and Kathleen were inseparable for an entire year before you came to Natchez. There was talk they would be married and no one ever knew what happened between them. Aren’t you worried? Don’t you believe in honor?” Rembert was very agitated, his face now turning red. “If that man comes back here, I think you should challenge him to a duel! Get this whole matter settled once and for all!”

“Uncle, I appreciate your concern, I know it’s because you love me. But I’m telling you as I’ve told you before, I do not care what happened between my wife and Dawson Blakely before I met her. It has nothing to do with me and, as for Dawson coming back, if he tries to see Kathleen, no one could keep him from that but her. You are worrying needlessly; the man’s no fool, Uncle. He knows she’s married and, for your information, in the last few months Kathleen and I have drawn closer together. I love her, Uncle, I’ve always loved her. I can’t kill a man because he once loved her, too. I don’t blame him for that.”

“Hunter, you are much too kind,” Rembert’s face contorted and he continued, “If you won’t challenge him to a duel, by heaven, I’ll will myself,” and his chubby hand hit the bed beside him.

“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” Hunter got up from his chair. “Kathleen is my wife, if there’s anything to be decided or taken care of, it’s my place and mine alone to handle it. I’ve told you I intend to do absolutely nothing about it. Their relationship happened before she became my wife, so I want to hear nothing further on the subject. If you feel it is somehow hurting your honor, I’m sorry, but I forbid you to do or say anything to anyone about it, do you understand?” His soft brown eyes narrowed.

“Yes, Hunter, but …”

“The subject is closed, Uncle, don’t ever mention it to me again.”

“Very well, son,” Uncle Rembert lay back on his pillows, shaking his head.

“Thank you, Uncle. Now it’s getting late, I want you to get some rest. Quit worrying about unimportant things,” and he rose and left the room.

Kathleen stood at the railing of the
Roxanne
in the warm summer evening, the breeze from the river cooling her face and soothing her confused brain. After boarding the river-boat at 8
P.M.
for the trip to Natchez, the family had dinner together in the ship’s big dining room. By the end of the meal, Scott was yawning and gave her no trouble when she told Hannah to get him to bed. Kathleen shared one last cup of coffee with her parents, then Abigail said she too was tired and Louis accompanied her to their cabin on the bow. Kathleen presumed they were both sound asleep by now. The deck was practically deserted at this late hour and Kathleen was glad. She stood alone, looking out at the murky waters while the riverboat churned slowly north, taking them home to Natchez. Taking her away from Dawson. Kathleen closed her eyes and felt again the full mouth on hers, the strong brown arms holding her tightly, the hard, lean body next to hers. Once again she could see the dark, hooded eyes looking into hers, hear the deep, resonant voice murmuring her name. Without realizing it, Kathleen was smiling to herself, so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear her father approaching.

“Kathleen,” Louis said softly and touched her arm.

Kathleen jumped instinctively and turned, “Oh, Father,” she smiled at him, “I thought you and Mother were in bed.”

“Your mother is brushing her hair, preparing to retire. I decided I would come up on top for one final cigar before turning in. Would you like company or did you want to be alone?”

“Oh, Father,” she smiled and slipped her arm through his, “I’m always happy to have your company, you know that.”

Louis Beaurgard patted her hand lovingly and said, “You were smiling when I walked up, darling. Did you have a nice time in New Orleans?”

She looked up at him and without hesitating, said, “Yes, I did, Father. It was wonderful, just perfect.”

“I’m so glad,” he said, “I think the trip was good for you, Kathleen. There’s a look about you, darling. All day long I’ve noticed that you look … well, I don’t know, peaceful somehow, and lovelier than ever.”

Kathleen flushed in the darkness and said, “I do? I didn’t realize. I suppose getting away for a while was good for me, for all of us.”

“Yes, darling, it was. I’m just sorry Hunter couldn’t come with us. He’s been working so hard and he looks so tired.”

Kathleen removed her hand from her father’s arm and once again looked out at the peaceful river. “Yes, it is too bad he couldn’t be with us.”

“Well, perhaps next time. I know he’s anxious to have his wife and son back, I’m sure he’s missed you terribly.”

“Yes, I know he has. Scotty … we have missed him, too. I’m glad we’ll be home tomorrow.”

“I am too, dear. I guess I’d better get back to your mother. Goodnight, darling,” he said and kissed her cheek.

“Night, Father,” she smiled and looked at him.

Louis Beauregard made no effort to move, but stood looking down at his daughter. He cleared his throat needlessly then said, almost in a whisper, “Kathleen?”

“Yes, Father?”

“You are happy, aren’t you, darling? I mean, well, it seems I never get the chance to talk to you the way I used to do and I worry sometimes. You know I always want you to be content, don’t you?”

“Father,” she smiled and patted his hand, “I am. I have a good, caring husband and a beautiful son. And the best two parents in the whole wide world. I’m very happy.”

“I’m glad,” he beamed and kissed her again, “I love you so much, my precious girl. Now promise me you’ll go to bed soon,” and he went to his cabin.

After he left, Kathleen sighed to herself and, feeling tired from the sleepless night she’d spent, went to her own cabin, next to Scotty and Hannah. Hannah appeared through the connecting door and undressed her for bed. Wordlessly, the old black woman unhooked her summer dress and helped her into the long white nightgown. Kathleen took a seat at the small vanity and Hannah took down the thick blond hair and stood gingerly brushing it until it crackled and snapped with electricity.

“Hannah,” Kathleen said softly to her mammy’s reflection in the mirror, “Do you think God will punish me for being with Dawson last night?”

The hairbrush stopped in midair and Hannah leaned down and took her shoulders, softly saying into the mirror, “Honey, God don’t work lak that. You jest stop yo’ frettin’. De good Lord understands a powerful lot more than folks gives him credit fo’. He be forgivin’ you ifin you had done anything wrong. Now you put that notion rat out of you mind. You needed to see Mister Dawson and he needed to be with you and that’s all there is to it. Ain’t nobody gonna know. Go to bed, chile, you is tired and you upsetting yo’self fo’ no reason.”

“Thank you, Hannah. You get some rest, too, I’ll see you in the morning,” and she smiled at her mammy.

“Night, honey,” Hannah kissed her cheek and went into the next cabin where Scotty slept peacefully.