The Elusive Flame (32 page)

She truly hadn’t meant to sound flippant. Indeed, nothing had been further from her mind. But in the face of such flaring emotions emanating from this man who towered over her, all reason had fled.

The dubious scowl that Beau slanted down upon her suggested that he had serious doubts about her sanity. “You left the ship without even so much as a whisper to anyone,” he accused. “You didn’t even say good-bye. Nor did you even hint of your intentions to leave the ship without me.”

“You were busy, and I didn’t wish to disturb you,” Cerynise replied in a soft, quavering voice. “It seemed an appropriate time to leave.”

“Appropriate, hell!” he snarled. “Inappropriate would be more like it. I left everything to come after you.”

“I’m sorry if I angered you, Beau,” she murmured contritely. “I really didn’t think it would matter.”

“Well, it did matter! A lot, in fact! One moment you were there, where I could see you, and the next, you had fled. I searched the ship for you, unable to believe that you’d leave without a word, and then one of my men told me that he had seen you slipping through the crowd. As difficult as it was to accept, I should have known. You’ve proven yourself quite adept at escaping at the most inconvenient times. In fact, if I didn’t know better, madam, I’d be inclined to think you have a wide, yellow streak running down your back.”

Taking offense, Cerynise raised her chin a notch at his insinuation. “I’m no coward, sir.”

Beau snorted in disagreement. “Right now, madam, I’d say that isn’t exactly the truth. But then, I’m the one from whom you fly away every chance you get and, in so doing, leave me so riled up inside I’ve oft considered the pleasure it might give me to commit mayhem on your very fetching backside.”

Cerynise stepped back, unconsciously clasping a hand over her abdomen. “You wouldn’t dare…”

Beau was incredulous that she should even suggest that he was serious. “Do you honestly believe I would?”

Her slender shoulders lifted in a lame shrug. “I’ve never seen you so angry with me before.”

“That’s understandable,” he quipped sarcastically. “I’ve never
been
this angry with you before.”

“I saw no need in delaying our separation,” she explained mutedly.

“That was obvious,” he retorted cuttingly. Her simple statement only heightened his irritation. “You might as well have slapped my face or spit in my eye, the way you sashayed off without a word to me.”

“There was no insult intended, Beau,” Cerynise whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry if you took offense.”

He was unable to resist her worried appeal. Taking a step closer, he murmured distantly, “I even begged a loan of a mount in my haste to find you.”

“But you must have known where I’d go,” she said, somewhat heartened by the fact that the muscles in his cheeks were no longer tensing beneath his bronzed skin.

“Aye! I did, and that’s why I’m here.” Beau moved even nearer until Cerynise could see nothing beyond his broad shoulders, but then, with her eyes riveted on his face, she wouldn’t have seen anything else anyway. He advanced with measured care, and instinctively she stepped back, only to bump into the door. His long body was there to meet hers when she stumbled forward again,
and as if by magic, his arm was suddenly around her, steadying her and pulling her near. She breathed in raggedly, inhaling all the scents that bestirred her womanly being and awakened her senses to his manly virility. Her head whirled, leaving her a little dizzy and faint. She lifted a hand to brace herself, only to encounter the hard, unyielding wall of his chest, that same muscular expanse she loved to caress. She seemed naturally inclined to do so, for her hand moved unbidden in a slow, circular motion around a male breast.

Trembling, she raised her eyes to his and saw in an instant that his anger was gone, transformed into a longing so intense, it left her amazed that after all their quarrels and strife, this proud, indomitable man desired her just as fiercely as he always had.
Annulment, be damned!
she could almost hear him saying. His dark head lowered, his opening mouth came near, and she waited with emotions winging out of control.

The clatter of a passing wagon intruded, reminding her of the fact that they were standing beside a public lane in the middle of Charleston. Anyone could see them if they chose to look through the arbor, and yet, everything within her cried out with yearning for this man in spite of all the conflicts that might follow. Her soft lips parted in a sigh of surrender.…

“Beau—”

In an instant her whisper turned to a startled gasp as the front door opened suddenly, jolting her forward against Beau. They both stumbled away from the wide step and stared in surprise at a gray-haired man with wire-rimmed spectacles who gazed back at them with the air of a startled owl.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” he apologized. “I thought I heard something and came out to see—” He broke off, a tentative smile lighting his solemn visage. “Cerynise…is that you? Oh, but it can’t be. She’s.—”

“It is!” Cerynise reassured him eagerly. This was hardly the reunion she had envisioned. Fully aware of her
flustered state, she could perceive his curiosity being aroused by her bright blush. It was too much to hope that he’d lay the cause to her arrival. “I’ve come home to stay, Uncle Sterling.”

The man seemed suddenly bemused. “But what about Mrs. Winthrop.…”

Cerynise’s voice thickened with emotion. “She passed away some three months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Uncle Sterling said, losing some of his elation. “She was a fine woman.” Looking at his niece again, he smiled, this time gently. “But you can’t believe how relieved I am to have you back. I’ve missed you so. You’re the only family I have now.”

With those simple words, Cerynise felt the wall she had erected in fear crumbling away. He opened his arms to her, and with a catch in her breath, she flew into them. Sterling gathered her close, embracing her affectionately and blinking away a flood of tears. “Dear child, you’ve been in my thoughts constantly. Your letters were a delight, to be sure, but I cannot tell you how your arrival has lifted my spirits. I had begun to despair that I’d never see you again.”

“Now I’m back,” she murmured, wondering how she could have ever thought him cold and distant. Perhaps she hadn’t really even known him. Yet she had every hope that would soon change.

Beau had stepped back a respectful distance to allow them this moment together, and after a time, Sterling Kendall faced him with a smile. “I gather I have you to thank for my niece’s safe return, Captain Birmingham.”

“There are some things you should know, sir,” Beau replied, startling Cerynise with his declaration. “And I think we should talk about them at length.”

Uncle Sterling glanced curiously from one to the other and, after noting the sudden dismay in his niece’s face, decided it was a matter of some urgency. “Of course, Captain. Let’s go into the parlor, where we can have some tea while we talk.”

They followed him through the lemon-scented hall to a room overlooking the garden, which now in winter was mostly dormant except for the camellias that were still blooming. In the summer months all manner of flowers and neatly clipped shrubs created a view that was immensely pleasing to the senses. Cerynise had always loved roaming through the mulched lanes, looking at the colorful array of blossoms and the charming gazebo where climbing roses and ivy trailed upward through the white lattice walls. It had once been her hope to create that same scene on canvas, but as yet she hadn’t done so.

“Find yourselves a seat and get comfortable while I go and see where the housemaid is,” Uncle Sterling urged them. “Cora is getting rather hard of hearing, and lately she hasn’t been seeing too well either, but she declares that she’s fit enough to carry on just as well as she always has.”

Cerynise remembered Cora from her childhood and roughly guessed the woman was at least sixty-eight. From the neatness of the house, she could ascertain that in spite of her limitations Cora was still fully capable of cleaning and cooking for her uncle. The woman had done so for the last thirty years.

Cerynise crossed the room and settled on a settee facing a wide expanse of square-paned windows that showed off the garden. Less than a moment later Beau followed, ignoring more comfortable chairs to take a place beside her. Everywhere their eyes flitted, there were books nestled in little crannies, on shelves, and larger volumes carefully arranged on tabletops. Beau picked up one and began leafing through it until his interest heightened. Besides the historical text, there were also drawings representing ancient Greek and Roman statues, many of which were rather graphic in detail. A quick glance upward confirmed the fact that Cerynise’s interest had also been stimulated, and he turned the pages much more slowly for her benefit.

“Nice drawings,” he commented with a grin, finally turning his gaze upon her.

Cerynise had been leaning toward him ever so slightly, but at his words, she sat upright, her face flaming. She couldn’t very well lie and deny that she had been gawking at the male statues on the page. The best she could do was respond with a casual shrug. “I suppose.”

“Not as nice as the real thing though.”

“Put the book up,” she cautioned in a whisper. “My uncle’s coming.”

“Is that what you did when you were a little girl?” Beau queried, laying the book back upon the table in front of them.

“What do you mean?” she asked in wide-eyed bemusement.

“Devour all the pictures of naked men and women and then scurry to hide that fact when your elders approached,” he explained with a soft chuckle.

Cerynise wished she could cool her cheeks with a wet cloth, but then, she seriously doubted even that would help, for her blush warmed her whole body. “I don’t remember ever seeing that kind of book here before. Perhaps my uncle was more careful about leaving it out for children to find.”

“A historian would never imagine that kind of book lewd,” Beau argued, “so I doubt the good professor would hide it.”

“Well, I never saw it before in my life!” she hissed hotly.

“All right!” He could not quell an amused grin, and then, because he loved to tease her, he leaned near to whisper, “Have you ever painted a man in the nude?”

“Certainly not!”

“Didn’t know what they looked like before me, eh?”

“Be quiet! My uncle will hear you.”

His broad shoulders lifted casually. “I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do!” she protested in a barely audible tone. “We’re supposed to be considering an annulment. Or have you forgotten?”

“You won’t let me,” he prodded.

Startled by his answer, Cerynise looked up to search his eyes, but she had no time to question him, for her uncle opened the door and held it wide as Cora pushed the tea cart in.

Tea and crumpets were served, and Cerynise nervously partook of both. She had no idea what Beau meant to tell her uncle; she only knew that whatever it was, it would come as a shock to the elder.

After closing the door behind the housemaid, her uncle faced Beau over the tea cart. “What do you wish to tell me, Captain?”

“Simply that Cerynise and I are married…”

Cerynise cringed, awaiting her uncle’s reaction. He would no doubt take offense because he hadn’t been informed prior to the event.

Sterling sat back in his chair in stunned disbelief. “How did this come about?”

In an anxious rush to have it all behind her, Cerynise gave Beau no opportunity to say what was on his mind. “It was all rather sudden, Uncle Sterling, and most needed at the time. You see, Mrs. Winthrop’s nephew tried to claim me as his legal ward upon her death, and when Alistair threatened to have the authorities halt the
Audacious’s
departure, Beau…I mean, Captain Birmingham offered marriage as a way to get both me and his ship out of England. We have plans to get our marriage annulled as soon as possible, but we thought you should know immediately.…”

The clatter of a china cup being set upon a saucer with unusual force drew Cerynise’s startled attention to her husband, who at the moment seemed genuinely perturbed with her.

“Did I not explain our situation precisely?” she queried uneasily.

“Very concisely, madam.”

Sterling looked from one to the other and wondered what he was presently seeing in the younger man’s face. It was not pleasure, by any means. He sought to soothe
whatever irritation the captain might be feeling. “’Twould appear that you both found a resourceful solution to a difficult predicament.”

“Perhaps,” Beau muttered. “At least your niece seems to view it that way.” Then rather abruptly he put his cup and saucer back on the tea cart and came to his feet. “I must get back to my ship now. I left Mr. Oaks in charge without giving him adequate instructions how I wanted to handle certain matters. I’m sure he’ll be at a loss until I get back.”

“Certainly, Captain,” Uncle Sterling said, opening the door. “I’ll show you out.”

As the elder entered the hall, Beau paused briefly to glance back at Cerynise, who could find nothing more to say than “I suppose you’ll be sending the annulment papers around for me to sign.”

His smile was stiff and terse, his mood dark. “If you insist, madam.”

Then, whirling on a heel, he followed her uncle through the hallway.

The hard lump in Cerynise’s throat threatened to dissolve into a burst of tears as she listened to the striding footfalls of her husband, who apparently was in no mood to walk softly. The men exchanged a few murmured words at the door, and then the portal was swept open. She sat frozen until it closed again with a firmness that had a definite ring of finality.

M
ORE THAN A
month after her return, Cerynise came down to breakfast much later than usual, wearing a painting smock and looking for all the world as if she had finally found the heart to return to her work. Uncle Sterling had already settled in the dining room, where bay windows overlooked the garden. He had been addressing his morning meal with enthusiasm, but at her entrance, he rose in gentlemanly manner.

“I was wondering where you were, my dear,” he greeted jovially. “Please forgive me for starting without you. I have an early appointment this morning that I mustn’t be late for.”

Cerynise spared a quick glance at the shirred eggs, hominy cakes, sausage, and applesauce available on the sideboard and swallowed with difficulty. The housemaid waddled in with a warmed plate which she set before the girl, but Cerynise shook her head. “Thank you, Cora, but I think I’ll just have tea this morning.”

The older woman poured a cup and served it with an ample piece of her mind. “Miss Cerynise, you ought to
eat more than you do. You don’t eat enough to keep a cricket alive.”

Cerynise started to lift the cup, but her stomach chose that moment to do a slow, dizzying flip-flop, making her feel just as she had aboard the
Audacious
in the earlier days of the voyage. She set the cup down hastily and quickly averted her gaze.

“Is something wrong?” Uncle Sterling asked, glancing up to find her eyes closed and her face pale.

“No.” Cerynise looked up to find him in the process of spreading thick orange marmalade on a warm corn muffin. Cautiously dragging her gaze from him, she watched her tea do an odd little back-and-forth motion in her cup. With trembling hands she reached out to steady the cup, but immediately discovered that it wasn’t moving. It was only her stomach turning. Her hands began to shake noticeably, and she yanked them back quickly, clenching them together in her lap.

“Something
is
wrong,” Uncle Sterling stated with conviction, dropping his muffin. He pushed his chair back and came around to her side of the table. “You’re as pale as a ship’s canvas this morning, my dear. What plagues you? Are you feverish?” He pressed his knuckles to her brow to judge for himself.

“No, I’m fine,” Cerynise muttered in a weak, unconvincing tone. She felt perfectly well…aside from her inability to keep food on her stomach…and the strange lassitude that had continued on unswervingly since her first bout on the
Audacious.
“I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Well, no wonder,” Uncle Sterling replied, resuming his seat. “The way you’ve been moping around here lately, you’ve undoubtedly become bored after the excitement of the voyage. A young girl like you should be out meeting new friends and going to balls and such. Perhaps a stroll would improve your frame of mind. ’Tis a lovely day, and my appointment shouldn’t occupy me above an hour. When I return, I shall expect to have the pleasure of your company for a walk.”

“If you insist,” Cerynise acquiesced listlessly, finding no enthusiasm for such a task. In spite of her careful explanations to Beau about her need to set up a studio and get back to her painting, she had progressed very little toward that end. Even when Uncle Sterling had suggested that they should get together with old family friends, she had politely put him off, not wishing to go anywhere or see anyone.

“Perhaps we could stroll along Broad Street and do a little shopping,” he suggested. Women always enjoyed such things, and he was in a rare mood to be out and about with his niece on his arm. “I understand there are some excellent modistes there.”

Cerynise didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All she needed was to be fitted and measured by a seamstress. That would definitely raise havoc. But her dear, sweet scholarly uncle was so concerned about her that he imagined a new gown would be effective in bringing her out of her doldrums. She knew he couldn’t have recited more than one or two facts about feminine fashions, but he was offering to spend his own money and time escorting her to dressmakers with the hope that it would somehow make her feel better.

Cerynise smiled at him gently. “I’d love to go with you, Uncle Sterling, but perhaps we could visit some bookstores instead. I’m just not feeling in a mood to shop for material or fret over fashions right now.”

Her uncle’s relief was obvious enough to make her laugh in appreciation for the sacrifice he had been willing to make on her behalf. Soon he left for his appointment, but only after wringing a promise from her that she’d eat something. Barely had she sampled the smallest portion of a hominy cake than her stomach rebelled. She just managed to get to her room in time, but afterwards, she felt so weak she had to lie down. Finally her nausea faded, and she began to move about in a halfhearted quest to get ready.

When Uncle Sterling arrived a little more than an hour
later, Cerynise was waiting for him in the entrance hall. She had garbed herself in a pale blue woolen gown trimmed with brown velvet cording and a wide band collar of the same hue. It was the only one among her day dresses loose enough to allow her to forgo wearing a corset. Since there was only a slight nip in the air, she had shunned the idea of wearing a cloak and, instead, had draped a large, enveloping cashmere shawl of pale blue and brown paisley around her shoulders. Over her neatly coiled coiffure, she had tied a pert blue bonnet handsomely arrayed with pheasant feathers. Although the converse was true, her smile suggested that she hadn’t a care in the world.

“You’re ready!” Uncle Sterling exclaimed, pleased that she was looking so winsome. Gallantly he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

The day fairly sparkled beneath a clear sky, while the air was imbued with just enough scent of the approaching spring to tantalize the senses. Everywhere Cerynise looked, she espied finely garbed men and women making their way in and out of shops. They were certainly eloquent testimony to the prosperity of Charleston. Some, she guessed, were from nearby plantations, others perhaps from the area near the mills nestled on the Ashley River or from places much farther afield. Her ears caught enunciations with a northern twang amid the leisured drawls of the Carolina inhabitants. There was also evidence of Europeans aplenty everywhere they went. After living in a city as immense as London, Cerynise could hardly think of Charleston as a great metropolis, yet it had a charm all of its own. Most of its citizens seemed to combine a love of adventure with shrewd business sense and genuine southern hospitality, which certainly made shopping an affable experience. Cerynise found herself involved in more than a few delightful little chitchats with store owners and clerks. Their discussions ranged anywhere from passing comments on their balmy March weather to lighthearted observations on the various plays presently being performed
at the local theaters. After catching herself laughing in response to some witty remark, it dawned on her that merely being out and about had helped considerably to lift her spirits.

Or at least it had until she rounded a corner with her uncle in time to see an elegant carriage roll to a halt in front of a shop belonging to one of Charleston’s most renowned couturiers, one Madame Feroux. A tall, broad-shouldered man alighted and held out a hand to assist his female companion in her descent. The young lady was of such doll-like beauty Cerynise might have stared in admiration had she not recognized her own husband serving as the woman’s escort. From then on, she was helplessly caught in the throes of acute despondency with a fair amount of jealousy blended in.

Beau’s teeth flashed whitely in sharp contrast to his darkly burnished skin as he threw back his head and laughed at whatever the ravishing creature had said. He was exceptionally well garbed and looked every bit the Carolina aristocrat that he was. Indeed, no London dandy could have matched his debonair appearance. His fine, charcoal gray swallowtail coat was set off to perfection by thinly striped gray trousers and a shawl-collared vest made in a wider, complementary striped silk. A rich, waffled-silk cravat of pearl-gray was a stunning addition to his elegant garb. The fact that it was neatly in place beneath the stiff collar of his white shirt led Cerynise to wonder morosely if his little friend had had anything to do with its natty appearance. His dark gray top hat was angled jauntily upon his dark head, and if anything, his dashing good looks were even more striking than before. The petite brunette evidently thought so too, for she swayed against him, brushing her small bosom against his arm as she smiled up at him enchantingly and lightly touched a hand to his broad chest.

“Really, Beau,” she warbled, “where are your manners? Surely, it isn’t too much for me to expect that you—” She broke off abruptly when she realized she no longer
had his attention. In sudden confusion, she followed his gaze to the source of his distraction, and for the briefest of moments her dark eyes chilled in arrogant displeasure as she appraised the tawny-haired beauty at whom he stared.

Beau stepped aside, deftly detaching himself from the brunette, which by no means was an easy task since she had actually taken hold of his lapel. Smiling, he tipped his hat gallantly to his wife. “A pleasure to see you again, Cerynise.”

Beau doubted that he had ever uttered a more truthful greeting in all of his life. He hadn’t seen her since the day he had stalked out of her uncle’s house, but it couldn’t be said that he hadn’t thought of her, for he definitely had. Constantly, in fact. The time during which they had been apart had been an agony of memories running over and over in his mind. When he had helped Sterling Kendall load her belongings in a carriage, every instinct within him had goaded him to ask news of her, but his stubborn pride hadn’t allowed him to do so. She had seemed so adamant about getting the annulment that he had hoped to assuage his anger by totally ignoring her, even to the point of refusing to visit his lawyer, which would have awakened his ire all over again. What he had deemed as suitable punishment for her had resulted in a living hell for himself. Thus, it came as no surprise to him to realize just how much her appearance delighted him. Indeed, his eyes feasted on her with ravenous hunger, and it was almost a full moment before he remembered that she, too, had an escort.

“Professor Kendall, how nice it is to see you again.”

“And you,” Sterling responded, cheerfully unaware of the emotional currents running between his niece and the captain. Not so the pocket Venus. When a man perused another woman in her presence the way Beau Birmingham was doing at this precise moment, her hackles were inclined to rise like those of an enraged feline. She had never been confronted with a situation in which she had
to share a man’s attention with another female, for she was quite popular and had many admirers, to the extent that she could pick and choose her escorts. The fact that Beau Birmingham, the most reticent toward her, was probably the richest and, to be sure, the most handsome among Charleston’s male populace only solidified her objective of wooing him into matrimony. This tawny-haired Aphrodite whom he zealously perused was unmistakably a rival she’d definitely have to dispense with in one fashion or another.

The brunette tugged on Beau’s sleeve in an effort to break his unwavering stare. He seemed startled as he glanced around, and for barely a moment he looked at her as if he hadn’t the slightest idea who she was. Abruptly recalling his manners, he hastened to make the introductions. “Cerynise, this is Miss Germaine Hollingsworth. Germaine, I’m sure you remember Cerynise Kendall from your—”

Germaine managed a small frown and blinked her long lashes in a close resemblance of confusion as she looked up at him. “No, Beau, I’m afraid I don’t.”

He was taken aback by surprise. “I’m sorry. I just assumed your paths had crossed at some point in time.”

It was a reasonable conjecture, considering that Germaine was only a year or two older than his wife, and as much as the brunette denied it, his premise was correct. Cerynise recalled her only too well. The pampered Miss Hollingsworth had attended the same academy to which most of the wealthy families and parents with more of a professional scholarly bent sent their daughters to be instructed in a manner suitable for young ladies. Germaine had been one of those who had enjoyed tormenting a somewhat gawky twelve-year-old who had failed to believe the world revolved around bonnets and beaus. More than once in the presence of Germaine and her friends, Cerynise had been made the target of tongues that could have flailed the hide off an alligator. Yet, at the approach of an attractive male, those same young ladies had had the ability to mask their shrewish dispositions with
chameleon-like swiftness and drip sweet honey with every syllable they uttered.

“Beau, dear, we really mustn’t linger,” Germaine coyly pressed. “You did promise…”

“To give you a ride to Madame Feroux’s.” He swept his hand to indicate the shop behind them. “And you have arrived.”

“Silly me.” Germaine laughed and tossed her elegantly coifed head as if embarrassed by such a foolish mistake. “Why, I hardly noticed where we were.” With a flutter of dark lashes, she looked up at Beau with a pleading expression that, in Cerynise’s mind, wouldn’t have been misplaced on a hungry wolf. “I always have such difficulty deciding what looks best on my tiny frame, and everyone says that you have the most divine taste, Beau, so I was wondering if you could assist—”

“I’m afraid not.” He didn’t even look at Germaine as he answered, for his gaze was fastened on Cerynise, who found herself unwillingly fascinated by the other woman’s charming endeavors.

Germaine’s pretty mouth tightened, but she was not about to relent. “Why, Beauregard Birmingham, how can you be so nasty to little ol’ me? I’ve heard rumors about you being a tough sea captain, but you’re also supposed to be a gentleman, and a gentleman would never deny a lady’s—”

“Am I?” he queried in distraction.

“Are you what?” Germaine asked petulantly.

“A gentleman?” Although the question seemed primarily addressed to Germaine, he never looked away from his wife. “Would you say that to be true, Cerynise?”

Cerynise was distantly aware of Uncle Sterling eyeing them both fairly closely now, no doubt bewildered by her high blush and the sudden trembling that had beset her. She was averse to praising her husband in front of the little coquette and answered him as diplomatically as she could. “Were you not one, sir, you’d certainly be unwilling for me to announce that fact,” she rejoined, her voice
sounding faint in her own ears. “And yet, if I were to laud your character for your companion’s benefit, I wonder where that would lead.”
To bed?
Cerynise dolefully wondered.