Nan Ryan (8 page)

“I want my daughter to be happy, too, Mister Blakely, and that’s precisely why I’ll never let her marry you.”

“But why, for God’s sake? What have I ever done but please her?” Dawson was terribly upset, his voice raised to a shout.

“Will you lower your voice, please! Mister Blakely, my daughter is above you, can’t you understand that? She is descended from the throne of France on my side of the family and from the throne of England on her mother’s. We are aristocrats and members of our family never marry beneath themselves. If you want to better yourself by marrying into a family with an impeccable background, you’ve come to the wrong place. I won’t allow it.”

“I’m not trying to better myself and you know it. I don’t care about your background. I love your daughter. Nothing else matters to me.”

“Well, it does to me. I know what you came from and you are not good enough for my daughter! Your middle name is Harpe, Mister Blakely, and the entire South is well aware of what kind of people the Harpes are. Robbers, murderers, the scum of the earth; mean, ruthless, the dregs of humanity!”

“Mister Beauregard, I’m not like that. Can I help it if my ancestors were Harpes? What has that got to do with me? I’m a decent man and you know it.”

“I don’t care. You’re a Harpe and I won’t have Kathleen marrying into that family. You are trash, Blakely, you were born and raised under the bluffs. Your mother was a Harpe and your father a worthless gambler. The Harpes are notorious! People still tell of the unspeakable things they did. They were animals; they hacked people to death, they killed whole families, they disemboweled helpless victims and filled their empty stomachs with rocks. So despicable were they that one of them even bashed the brains out of his own child! That’s what you came from! Do you have to ask why I refuse to let you marry my daughter?”

Dawson’s face grew darker with rage. “I know everything about my family and I refuse to apologize for any of it. Maybe their lives were not easy like yours has always been. How do you know what it’s like to have nothing and have to make your own way? Everything has been handed to you on a silver platter. I was born under the bluffs, but I alone struggled to better myself and get out. No one ever helped me,
ever
. I did it on my own and I’m proud of it. If you had been born there, you would probably still be down there, powerless to do anything but feel sorry for yourself! My mother was a sweet girl, she never did anything wrong in her life no matter what her name was. I never knew my father, but if she loved him he must have been special. I’m not ashamed my middle name is Harpe; I’m proud of it and I’m proud of what I’ve made of my life, regardless of what you may think of me.”

“Be as proud as you like, but you will not marry my daughter!”

“Yes, I will. I love her and she loves me. I’m going to marry her right away and there is nothing you can do about it!”

“Ah, you’re wrong. There is something I can do about it and I will.” Beauregard’s face broke into a slow smile and he continued, “I have spent many long hours deciding how to keep you from marrying Kathleen. I’ve come up with a foolproof solution. I intend to publicly challenge you to a duel, Blakely.”

Dawson laughed in Louis’ face, “Good Lord, man, do you really think I’m afraid of you? I’m a Harpe, remember? As you said, we’re all murderers. There’s no doubt in my mind I could kill you easily in a duel.”

“Exactly,” Louis smiled at him. “You would almost certainly kill me. And if you did, do you think my daughter would still love you? I think not; she would hate you for killing her father. I’ve got you, Blakely. It’s simple. I will challenge you to a duel. If I kill you, you lose and if you kill me, you lose. Either way, you don’t get Kathleen! If you really love my daughter, there is only one thing for you to do. Go away. Get out of her life and leave her alone. Go, because I know your pride and arrogance will not allow you to refuse to duel.”

“She won’t stop loving me and, if I tell her what you’ve said, she’ll marry me at once.”

“You aren’t going to tell her. She wouldn’t believe you and I would deny it. You aren’t going to see her again. You are leaving, Mister Blakely, and the sooner the better. If you stay, I intend to challenge you publicly; you’ll kill me and she will hate you forever. So why not go? I’ve won, Blakely; she’ll never be your wife. I love her enough to give up my life to prevent her marriage to you.”

“I could take her away with me, never let you know where …”

“I would hunt you to the ends of the earth and you know it. The results would turn out the same, one of us kills the other and you lose. She will never love a man who killed her father. She loves me, too, remember?”

A feeling of helplessness came over Dawson as he listened to the determined man threatening him. He was powerless to do anything. Kathleen’s father wasn’t bluffing and Dawson knew it. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, to come up with a solution, but he could think of none. The thought of Kathleen hating him was more than he could bear. There was no way out. If he took her against Beauregard’s will, this cruel man would indeed track them down. If he told Kathleen about this meeting, would she believe him? Her father had never been anything but nice to him, acting like he was more than pleased with the prospect of Dawson for a son-in-law. He’d cleverly concealed his true feelings from Kathleen all this time. Would Kathleen believe that he really hated Dawson and refused to let her marry him? No, she loved and trusted her father. Her father would convince her it was he, Dawson, who was lying. There was nothing he could do but give her up. He loved her too much to ruin her life. If her family felt this way about him, there was no way it could ever work. It would be best to get out of her life; it was the only answer. She would get over him, forget him. For her happiness, he would become Louis Beauregard’s unwilling ally.

“I’ll leave. I love her and the last thing I want is to make her unhappy. You’ve won. I suppose you intend to tell her I never really loved her and that I ran away?”

“That’s exactly what I’ll tell her. She’ll cry a little at first, but she will soon forget you. If you love her as much as you say, you are doing the right thing. It’s best you leave Natchez at once. When do you think you can go?”

“I’ll leave tonight,” Dawson answered sadly. “I won’t see her again. I’ll go to my boat as soon as I wind-up things at home. I’ll be gone before the night is over.”

“Good. That’s just fine. If Kathleen asks, I’ll- say you never came here today, that I heard you were leaving town.”

Dawson swallowed and said, “As you wish.”

Louis smiled, “Now if anything unforeseen happens and Kathleen should find you before you have a chance to leave, you are to tell her that you don’t love her, you never did, and you’re going away. Understand?”

“I understand.” Dawson moved to leave and Hannah quickly left her place just outside the door, moving quietly along the wall to the back of the house and out of sight. Her heart was pounding in her chest. What she had overheard made her violently ill and she held her big stomach with both hands, her body trembling. Kathleen’s father was sending her true love away and it was going to break the poor girl’s heart. What should she do? How could this be happening? It was too terrible. Oh, what should she do?

Dawson reached the doors and opened them and Beauregard called after him, “Also, Mr. Blakely, I want you to take her name off that boat immediately!”

Dawson whirled and his eyes flashed fire. “Your daughter may belong to you but, that boat is mine and it will keep the name
Diana Mine
for as long as I live. Don’t push me, I would just as soon kill you right now as look at you.” He rushed from the house and to his horse. He galloped away from Sans Souci at breakneck speed, cursing the demon who called himself a loving father. He spurred the big horse on and flew down the streets, his face contorted with rage. It had taken all the control Dawson Blakely possessed to keep from killing Louis Beauregard with his bare hands.

Six

Kathleen was brimming over with happiness and excitement while she dressed for the most important evening of her life. She stood humming a Stephen Foster song while Hannah hooked up the soft blue velvet skirt. She grinned at herself in the mirror, thinking it was a shame she had to cover up the dainty batiste camisole she wore with a blouse. Delicately pretty, it was sheer and soft, a blue satin ribbon at its top tied in a small bow at the center. Tiny straps over her shoulders had the same blue ribbon running through them. Kathleen put her hands to her waist and turned around, imagining Dawson seeing her this way, without her blouse. She blushed, realizing that in a few short weeks he would see her in less than the camisole.

Hannah picked up her new white blouse and Kathleen put her arms into the long sleeves. She pinned the small cameo left to her by Grandmother Howard onto the collar. Dawson had given her the blouse and she thought it the most exquisite one she had ever seen. His taste was excellent and he found unusual clothes for her, delighting in giving her pretty things, though her father told her it was not proper for a gentleman to give clothes to a young lady. She had laughed at her father and assured him it was quite proper because Dawson was in love with her and intended to make her his wife and buy all her clothes.

It was turning dark out and Kathleen assumed the important meeting between Dawson and her father had gone smoothly. Dawson was to be here by seven-thirty for dinner and they would all drink toasts and celebrate the coming event. Dressed and eager for her handsome fiancé to arrive, Kathleen left her room and skipped down the stairs still humming. She hurried into the drawing room to join her parents, but found only her mother there. Abigail looked up when her daughter entered the room and smiled to her.

“How lovely you look, dear,” Abigail said sweetly.

“You, too, Mother.” Kathleen went to Abigail’s chair and kissed her cheek. “Where’s Father? Isn’t he dressed yet?”

“Your father isn’t home. I don’t know what could be keeping him. I told him we would be having dinner around eight, shortly after Dawson arrives.”

“You mean, Father hasn’t been at home this afternoon?” Kathleen was puzzled.

The words were hardly out of her mouth when the front doors opened and Louis came in. Kathleen ran to the hall to meet him. Daniel was helping him take off his heavy cashmere overcoat.

“Daddy,” Kathleen threw her arms around her father’s neck, smiling. “Did you see Dawson?”

“Sweetheart,” he disengaged himself from her arms, “can’t I go in and get warm before you bombard me with questions?” He walked to the fireplace in the drawing room, nodding to Abigail, “Good evening, dear.” His wife smiled and watched him stretch his hands to the fire.

Kathleen followed him to the fireplace. “Father, did you see Dawson? Did he have the talk with you today?” Louis stared into the roaring fire, reluctant to meet his daughter’s eyes. “Father, answer me! Where’s Dawson? He was to come over here today at two o’clock, remember? Didn’t he come? Something’s wrong, tell me.”

Slowly, Louis lifted his eyes to Kathleen’s. “Dear, I haven’t seen Dawson today; he never showed up. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. I was in town and heard that Blakely is leaving Natchez tonight. I’m sorry.”

Kathleen stared at her father, then laughed nervously. “Father, you have lost your mind! Dawson will be over here any minute for dinner. He was to meet with you today and tell you we are getting married.”

“Oh, darling, I don’t know what happened, but I do know Dawson’s leaving.”

“This can’t be. Dawson promised, he …”

“Sweetheart,” Louis put his arm around Kathleen’s shoulders. “I waited and waited for Dawson, but he never arrived. I’m as puzzled as you are. I’m so sorry, Kathleen.”

Kathleen pushed her father away and shouted, “You’re lying, you’ve got to be lying. Dawson loves me, he wants to marry me, I know he does. It’s a mistake, it’s all a mistake.”

“Kathleen,” her mother rose to comfort her. “Your father wouldn’t lie to you. Dawson fooled us, too. Please, don’t be so upset, there will be other young men.”

“Stop it, both of you. He loves me, do you hear me! He’s going to marry me!”

Abigail looked helplessly to her husband and his face had grown stern as he looked at Kathleen. “Now, I want you to stop all this foolishness right now. Dawson Blakely is leaving tonight and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“No,” Kathleen was screaming now, “he can’t go. I won’t let him!”

“Kathleen, please let me …” her father began.

“Don’t touch me! You’re lying! I’m going to him.” Kathleen ran into the hall, jerked the closet door open, and swept a long blue wool cape around her shoulders. Her parents rushed after her, her mother now wringing her hands, saying, “Louis, do something, you must stop her.”

“Kathleen Beauregard,” Louis shouted, “you’re not going anywhere. You’re making a fool of yourself. He’s probably already gone, he was going to his boat and …”

“The boat, the “Diana Mine”! I’ll go there and stop him. It’s a misunderstanding, I’ll talk …” Kathleen was near hysterics.

“Young lady, you are not leaving this house!” Louis Beauregard took her arm.”

Kathleen pulled her arm free and ran to the door, whirled around and shouted, “I’m going to Dawson! No one is stopping me.” The blue eyes blazed and she flung the door open and ran out into the cold night.

“Daniel,” Louis was shaking with wrath. “Hurry, you must go with her!”

“Yes, suh, Mistah Beauregard, I go with that chile,” and he followed Kathleen down the steps without stopping to get a coat.

“Why did you let her go, Louis?” Abigail was crying softly as her husband closed the heavy front doors.

“There, there, dear. Don’t worry. Come back in by the fire,” he coaxed her.

“But, Louis, what if …”

“I’ve taken care of everything, I assure you. Dawson’s probably already gone, but even if he hasn’t, he’ll be gone by tomorrow and he won’t be marrying our daughter. If Kathleen finds him, he will turn her away and in a few weeks she’ll forget all about the scoundrel, so don’t worry your pretty head about it.” He kissed her and smiled, “Now, why don’t we go in and have our dinner. I’m quite hungry, aren’t you?”