The Elusive Flame (43 page)

Heather laid a hand over the cup, forestalling Cerynise’s effort to fill it. “I’ve changed my mind about the tea, my dear. How would you like to accompany me to Madame Feroux’s? I’m having some new gowns made for fall, and I would greatly enjoy your company while I’m there. Sometimes that woman’s incessant chatter wears on me. I’m sure you can understand since you’ve been there yourself. It would help tremendously if I’m fortified by a calmer companion.”

Cerynise looked suddenly distressed. “I fear Moon would have to accompany us, Mama Heather.” Then she pressed her hands alongside her belly worriedly. “And what will Madame Feroux think of me coming into her shop so late in my pregnancy?”

“You’re looking absolutely beautiful, my dear,” Heather rejoined with fervor, “and since you’re Beau’s wife, Madame Feroux will be eager to hear all of the details so she’ll have something more to talk about. But tell me, dear, why must Moon accompany us?”

Cerynise lifted her shoulders briefly. “Beau is afraid something will happen to me and has given both Jasper and Moon the task of guarding me.”

Heather raised an eyebrow wonderingly. She suffered no uncertainty that Beau and Cerynise were blissfully happy, but she hadn’t realized her son was so possessive of his wife that he would set guards to spying on her. She didn’t want to pry…well, perhaps not much. “How long has Beau had these other men observing you?”

“Since the incident in the garden last month.”

“What incident?”

Cerynise didn’t want to worry the woman, but she had to talk to someone, and she thought Heather would understand. “I was cutting flowers in the garden when a man opened the back gate. He let in a monstrous dog and gave it a command to kill. The next thing I knew, the animal was snarling viciously and coming after me. Beau arrived home
just in time to save me from being attacked. He killed the dog, and ever since then he refuses to let me out of his sight unless Jasper or Moon is watching after me. I know Beau is genuinely concerned, and heaven knows, the incident left me shaking for a whole week. But can you imagine having Moon and Jasper constantly underfoot?”

“I hadn’t heard about the dog,” Heather said, clearly worried. “Did the man get away?”

“Yes, that’s why Beau is so anxious about my safety.” Cerynise heaved a forlorn sigh. “Frankly, I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner in my own home, and although I keep telling myself that’s not really the case, I always have someone standing guard, especially when I venture out to the garden. Why, I can’t even go to the privy without Moon or Jasper being close by. It’s terribly embarrassing, considering how often I have to go now.”

“Would you like to come and stay at Harthaven until the man is caught?”

Cerynise shook her head and smiled. “Thank you for the invitation, Mama Heather, but I think I’d miss Beau too much if I did.”

It was an unusually fine day, sunny but not too warm for July. The gentle breezes wafting in through the interior shutters that shaded the windows were heavily scented with the delectable fragrance of the tiny blossoms covering the sweet olive tree growing just outside. The drone of bees hovering over the profusion of flowers could be heard amid the soft, gentle cooing of doves. It was a day for strolling hand in hand with a beau or a husband, and if a walk took a couple in the direction of a secluded bower, then it was to be expected. It was definitely not a day for moping about.

“If you’re willing to go with me, my dear, then Moon can sit beside my driver and escort us to the door of the shop. Would that suffice?”

“That should be enough.” Cerynise smiled with more enthusiasm. “I think I’d enjoy an outing immensely.”

“’Twill do you good, my dear.” Heather rose from her
chair. “And you look delightful as you are, so if you’d like, we can leave now.”

“Let me fetch Moon. No doubt Philippe will be relieved to have the man out of his kitchen. His temper has been sorely tested by the old sailor, who swears his French cuisine will be the death of him. Poor man, I think his stomach has been soured by all those sea victuals and hardtack he has been eating for most of his life.”

Heather laughed. “Perhaps Moon needs an outing for Philippe’s sake.”

Beau had concluded his day’s work at the warehouse and was just leaving when, from an upper-story window, he espied a familiar carriage pulling into the shipping yard. He recognized Moon sitting atop the conveyance and quickly concluded that his wife had been out and about with his mother. He hastened to lock up the safe and fetch his coat and top hat before taking his leave by way of the back stairs. By the time he descended, Cerynise was already out of the carriage and making her way across the yard toward him. She paused to await the passage of two six-in-hands that Beau determined were returning unusually late after unloading their cargo at another dock. The wagons were now empty and the teamsters, having finished their labor for the day, were no doubt anxious to tend the needs of the draft horses and leave for home. Beau waved to the men and then glanced down the street for some sign of the third one which had left the warehouse at the same time as the other two.

“Where’s Charlie?” he called to the second teamster.

“He’ll be comin’ any moment now, Cap’n,” the driver yelled back above the noisy rattling of his large dray. “He lost a wheel on the dock, an’ we had ta stop an’ help him. That’s why we’re so late.”

Cerynise moved around the last wagon and, with a bright smile, hurried to meet her husband. “We thought we’d give you a ride home if you’re acceptable to the idea.”

“How can I resist such a winsome invitation?” Beau countered, his eyes glowing above a grin. He gallantly offered an arm and was in the process of escorting her back to the carriage when he remembered that he had left some important papers lying atop his desk.

Cerynise looked up at him as he stopped abruptly. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve got to go back to my office for a moment to get something, my pet.”

“I’ll wait for you,” she eagerly volunteered.

He winked at her affectionately. “I won’t be long.”

As he left her, Cerynise tilted her bonneted head away from the late afternoon sun that now hovered above the rooftops of the tall warehouses across the street and readjusted her lace shawl around her shoulders, self-consciously trying as much as possible to conceal her rounded shape. The rumble of wheels and thudding hooves drew a brief glance from her, and she moved nearer the warehouse to give the third driver plenty of room to maneuver his six-in-hand and wagon toward the stables.

Barely an instant later, the energetic footfalls on the back stairs of the warehouse drew Cerynise’s attention, and she turned to find her husband descending the last few steps. Beau tossed her a grin before opening his coat and sliding the papers inside an inner pocket, freeing his hands for the joyful honor of esquiring his wife back to his parents’ coach.

When Beau lifted his head again, he noticed an elongated shadow of a man stretching across a portion of the cobblestone drive that separated him from Cerynise. He looked around, hoping to find a friend, but his hackles rose in sudden apprehension. Though a large floppy-brimmed hat shaded the fellow’s face, his hulking form seemed distressingly familiar. Beau quickened his step, hoping to cut the man off before he reached Cerynise, but his haste seemed to provoke a similar response from the stranger, who sprinted toward her suddenly. As Beau raced forward, he cried out a warning to his wife, but in the next instant the man slammed his bulk into
Cerynise, sending her reeling with a scream into the path of the oncoming team.

A startled shout erupted from Moon, who immediately began scrambling down from his perch. Treading on the heels of his cry, a higher-pitched scream was wrenched from Heather who clasped a quivering hand to her throat and watched in horror as her son hurled himself toward his falling wife. It seemed an impossible feat, and yet he swooped his arms around Cerynise in midair, enfolding her burdened form as he twisted. He lit on his back on the cobblestones, willingly accepting the brunt of their combined weights. Without pause, he rolled up on his knees and elbows and continued turning over and over, his large body protectively encompassing hers with limbs extended in a kneeling position as he exerted every measure of strength he was capable of mustering to protect Cerynise and their baby from harm.

Though the driver had slammed a booted foot against the wooden brake and sawed frantically on the reins to bring the steeds to a halt, the massive hooves thudded down upon the stones a hairsbreadth from Beau’s still-turning form. When the couple finally rolled to safety, a fair amount of pandemonium erupted. With a curse Moon launched himself into action and struck out after the now-fleeing stranger at an amazing fleet-footed run. The two drivers raced from the stables while the third finally brought his draft horses to a standstill. He leapt down from his lofty seat just as Heather stumbled from the doorway of the carriage and ran on trembling legs toward her family.

“Are you hurt?” she demanded in a tone that approached panic. She was shaking uncontrollably, and though she tried to see what injuries they might have sustained, worried tears blurred her vision. “Oh, please, tell me you’re both all right!”

“I think we are,” Beau replied a bit uncertainly as he searched his wife’s face for any visible signs of pain. Cerynise was too anxious about him to be concerned about herself. Even as he lifted himself off her and sat back
upon his heels, she followed to examine his hands, arms and legs. It seemed only his clothing was beyond repair. His trousers were torn at the knees, which were now bloody, and his coat was badly frayed across the back and at the elbows.

“Yer pardon, Cap’n,” the driver apologized in a shaky tone. “I just couldn’t get me horses halted in time.” He handed Beau his smashed top hat and the lace shawl that Cerynise had lost in their tumbling roll. The latter was now torn and blackened by hoof and wheel marks. “I was sure I had kilt ye both.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Charlie,” Beau assured the skinner.

“I saw that awful man push her!” Heather exclaimed in outrage.

“Aye, we all saw it,” the first driver declared. “He’d have kilt her if’n it hadn’t been for the cap’n.”

Even after her initial examination, the fierce set of Beau’s features made Cerynise fear that he was still in pain. She pressed an unsteady hand to his breast and searched his face worriedly, seeing the muscles snapping rigidly in his lean cheeks. Only then did she realize that she was seeing a depth of rage that she had never known existed. The fierceness of it unmistakably diminished anything she had previously seen.

“Let’s go home,” she pleaded shakily, her eyes delving into those dark green depths.

The seething rage in Beau’s face ebbed until a tense smile tugged at his lips. “Aye, my love. Let’s go home…where you’ll be safe.”

Several hours later, Beau sat in his study, turning over the events of the day in his mind as he stared fixedly at the top of his desk. His mother, who had been clearly distraught by the attempt on Cerynise’s life, had been taken home by her driver. Cerynise was in their bedroom upstairs, sleeping beneath Bridget’s watchful eye. From all outward appearances, his wife had managed to come
through the incident like a trooper, yet her sudden lethargy convinced Beau that inwardly she was frightened. He had called the servants together and, after explaining what had happened, had informed them that effective immediately there would be someone on watch in the house at all times. Moon was the first to volunteer, declaring himself too vexed to sleep anyway.

Though for a few moments Beau had considered taking his wife to Harthaven, he had promptly decided that the plantation was not the safest place for her. In addition to all of the outbuildings, it was surrounded by literally miles of land that offered innumerable hiding places for the rapscallion to sequester himself. The main house itself had no fewer than a dozen entrances and far too many places for easy concealment. No, their house in Charleston could be defended much more easily until he could find the gutter-licking scum responsible and put an end to his miserable life. Nothing short of that solution would assuage his doubts that Cerynise was entirely safe from the knave.

Too bad he had let the man off so lightly on the
Audacious.

When Moon had returned to the house bruised and bloody after trying unsuccessfully to stop the man from escaping, the old tar had reported that he had gotten a good look at the culprit during their brief scuffle. It was none other than Redmond Wilson, the same man who had taken an ax to the
Audacious
until Beau had disarmed him. In addition to the precautions Beau had set in force in the house itself, he also sent Stephen Oaks out with several crew members to prowl the streets for Wilson. If the renegade went into a tavern, visited a brothel, or so much as found a place to lay his head, Beau was confident that he would soon know about it.

Absently Beau rubbed his shoulder, feeling a painful twinge in the muscles there. At the time, he had hardly noticed the deep bruise he had inflicted upon himself when he dove across the cobblestones to save his wife from being trampled beneath the six-in-hand. But then, any
harm to himself was insignificant when he compared it to the pain he would have suffered if Cerynise and their child had been harmed or killed. Such a loss would be similar to having his own heart ripped from his chest.

Thinking of what had almost been taken from him filled Beau with a sudden, insatiable need to hold his wife within his arms and feel the steady rhythm of her heart against his own. Purposefully he strode from the study and ascended the stairs. Bridget rose as soon as he entered the darkened bedroom. It was Cerynise’s wont to leave the draperies open on moonlit nights, and by the dim glow shining through the windows, he readily discerned the maid’s distress. The worry in her eyes readily conveyed the fact that she was desperately afraid for her mistress. Nothing was said. There was no need, for they shared a common fear.

Bridget left with a muted “Good night,” and Beau quietly closed the door behind her. He crossed to the four-poster and, for a long moment, stood gazing down upon the delicate features of his wife. A shaft of silver light streaming across the bed illumined her face. She seemed untroubled by dreams and, to him, as innocent as an angel. How could any man in his right mind want to harm her? he wondered morosely. The idea was ludicrous and yet, all too true.