The Elusive Flame (50 page)

Cerynise’s scream seized Philippe’s heart in the kitchen. Snatching up a meat cleaver, he raced into the hall with Moon following rapidly behind. By then, Alistair had already tossed his captive over his shoulder and was striding into the foyer with Rudd advancing swiftly on his heels.

Philippe espied them as he raced from the hallway. “Put zee madame down!”

Alistair made the mistake of opening the front door, which the master of the house had just been about to push inward. Beau had been summoned home by Cooper and, upon his arrival, had heard screams from within. It was the sight of his wife lying over the sly weasel’s shoulder that sent his temper soaring. Drawing up a knee, Beau slammed it with brutal force into Alistair’s stomach, doubling the man over with a painful gurgle. Deftly whisking Cerynise off the crumpling one’s shoulder, Beau swept her to her feet and then quickly drew back a fist to finish thrashing Alistair. In the next instant he found himself facing Howard Rudd, who had nervously snatched forth the pistol he had been carrying in his coat. Despite the fact that the solicitor’s hands were shaking dangerously, he had cocked the weapon and had it aimed generally in the direction of the captain’s irate frown.

“B-back away from the d-door!” Rudd stuttered and tossed a quick look behind him at the two men who were almost upon him. “S-stay back, or I w-will kill the captain! So help me I will.”

In the face of such a threat, Philippe and Moon could do naught but stumble to a halt.

“D-drop the cleaver,” Rudd ordered the chef, trying to keep the bore of the pistol centered between the sapphire eyes as he cast another worried glance toward the two. Carefully the cook laid his makeshift weapon down upon the floor.

“Now, C-Captain,” the barrister urged, stepping past
Alistair. “You and your wife m-move to the north end of the p-porch…very carefully now.”

Beau complied, drawing Cerynise with him. She was clinging to him, trying to place herself in front of him as a shield, but he would have none of it. With an arm clasped about her waist, he held her firmly against his side.

Rudd caught Alistair’s elbow and, hauling him upright, pulled him through the doorway. His companion was suffering too much to be of any help, and Rudd shoved him toward the front steps of the porch with a command. “Run to the horses.”

“Get the girl,” Alistair croaked weakly, clasping his arms across his belly. His pain was so intense he feared his vitals had been ripped asunder.

Beau swept Cerynise behind him and glowered at the two. “Over my grave!”

Alistair feebly swept a hand to indicate the captain and rasped, “Shoot the bloody bastard!”

“Nooo!” Cerynise cried, trying to thrust herself forward in front of her husband, but he refused to comply with her efforts and held her behind him.

Rudd snorted, denying the wisdom of his companion’s command. But then, it wasn’t the first time he had mentally questioned the intelligence of Alistair Winthrop. “Aye, and let the rest of them kill us,” he derided, and then snapped, “Get to the horses.”

Alistair hobbled hurriedly toward the hitching post where the reins of their mounts had been secured. Snatching the lines free, he hauled himself astride with a painful grimace. “Come on, Rudd. Let’s get out of here.”

Now that he had some open space between himself and his horse, Howard Rudd could breathe a little easier, but he was still wary of the captain. A man with a fiery temper was not to be trusted. “T-try anything, C-Captain, and you or y-your wife will die, and if y-you die, your wife will be at our m-mercy. Th-that much I promise.”

He backed down the path over which Alistair had recently trod and, swinging into the saddle, slammed his
heels into the sides of the rented gelding. He lit out amid a noisy clatter of hooves, leaving Alistair struggling to catch up.

Beau ran to the street and watched the pair ride away. They made a turn, but it was not in the direction he had hoped. They were heading farther inland, possibly toward open country, away from the docks.

Cooper was just arriving from his trek to the shipping company. Having sped there by foot, the young man was clearly out of breath and energy from his race back, which his employer, being well rested and frantic for his wife’s safety, had covered in half the time.

Philippe, Moon and some of the other servants had come out onto the porch. It was Moon to whom Beau gave an order. “Find the sheriff, tell him what the blackguards tried to do, and urge him to gather up a posse and go after those two. If he needs descriptions, he can stop by here on his way out. I’ll gladly tell him what those frogs look like.”

“Aye, Cap’n!” With a casual salute, Moon hurried off to fulfill his behest.

Beau climbed the porch steps, slipped an arm around his wife, and swept her into the house. In the parlor they found Bridget kneeling on the floor beside Jasper. The butler was sitting up, holding a wet compress against the back of his head while the maid was wrapping a strip of cloth around the pad to hold it securely in place.

“I’m afraid I let my guard down, sir,” Jasper apologized, lifting a brief glance toward Beau.

“I understand it was you who sent Cooper to fetch me.”

“Yes, sir. At least I had Monsieur Philippe send the young man to warn you that your wife had visitors. I’m extremely thankful that Cooper found you in time.”

“I’m grateful for your quick thinking,” Beau responded. Hunkering down on his haunches, he asked solicitously, “How do you feel?”

“Like my head is twice as large as normal,” the butler answered dryly.

Beau chuckled. “It doesn’t appear to be.”

“Bridget told me that Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Rudd have managed to escape, sir.”

“Aye, but I’ll let the sheriff search for them.”

Jasper thought that an especially prudent decision. “It’s best not to leave the madam right now. They could come back, sir.”

Marcus’s outraged squalls could be heard coming closer, and Cerynise stepped from the parlor to find Vera hurrying down the hall from the kitchen. The girl was clearly relieved to see her mistress. “I’ve done e’erythin’ I could ta quiet him, Miz Cerynise, but he’s a-wantin’ ta be fed.”

“I’ll take him, Vera.” Holding out her arms to accept her son, Cerynise moved to meet the young woman. The baby’s outraged cries quieted immediately in his mother’s arms, and eagerly he started rooting at her breast. Cerynise took him to the study and, behind a closed door, hastily plucked open the buttons of her bodice as she sank to the cushions of the sofa. When the portal was swung open again, she glanced around as Beau entered. Securing their privacy, he pushed the door shut behind him and joined his wife on the sofa.

It amused Beau to see his son searching with birdlike fervor through the cloth of Cerynise’s gown. When the babe found nothing to assuage him, disappointed wails erupted, evoking a chuckle from his father. Cerynise finally managed to bare her breast and settled the infant against it. That was all it took. The boy latched onto her nipple with the greed of a glutton.

Her eyes glowing with love, Cerynise caressed the small head and then glanced up at her smiling husband with that same adoring gaze. “I would have missed you both terribly if Alistair had succeeded in taking me away. I’d have pined my heart out.”

“No less than I, madam, but I would have come after you,” Beau murmured reassuringly, bestowing a kiss upon her temple as he laid an arm behind her on the back of the sofa. “Did that toad say why he wanted you?”

Cerynise repeated what the two men had told her and grew a bit incensed as she recalled their demands. “Alistair actually wanted me to travel all the way to England with them, but when Rudd suggested that I could sign the papers in front of an English magistrate who came over on the ship with them, I said I’d do so, but only with you and an escort to protect us. That was when Alistair became irate. Mr. Rudd hit Jasper when he tried to come to my aid. One thing led to another.” She heaved a sigh, mentally rebuking herself. “I shouldn’t have agreed to see them. Jasper was fearful of some trick, but I ignored his warning.”

“Hopefully they’ll be caught, my pet. If they are, then we won’t have anything more to worry about.”

“Do you suppose that Redmond Wilson was somehow in cahoots with them? But why would they kill him if he was working for them?” She frowned suddenly, remembering what they had said. “According to Alistair, their ship docked only this morning, so unless they lied, they wouldn’t have been here at the time of his murder.”

“Alistair may have just said that to lead us astray, but it seems unlikely that Wilson was killed by strangers. Considering the number of men I sent out to look for him, the culprit was probably someone he knew and trusted.” Beau shrugged. “Who knows?”

Cerynise looked down again at Marcus who was still ravenously sating his hunger. She smiled impishly as she lifted her gaze again to her husband. “At times his voracity reminds me of when you made love to me and proved yourself just as starved for appeasement.”

Beau looked appalled at the comparison. “To my knowledge, madam, I’ve always tried to be gentle with you. When have I ever suckled you so unmercifully?”

“When you were delirious, my love,” she replied, rubbing his thigh. “My nipples were quite tender afterwards.”

The dark brows flicked upward briefly, conveying his chagrin. “Forgive me, madam, but considering my growing
desire to have my way with you, I’m sure I was out of my head with lust for you.”

“And quite feverish, too. I thought I was dreaming until I felt the pain of your entry, but by then, I had become a willing participant in your marital initiation. Whether you know it or not, my love, you gave me pleasure even then, though you were so sick it might not have been your intent. Still, I felt somewhat slighted when I realized afterwards that you hadn’t even kissed me.”

Beau didn’t care to explain that he had always been reluctant to kiss the harlots he had sought out to satisfy his manly cravings. It was not until he had kissed Cerynise on their wedding day that he had actually become appreciative of that delectable practice. “I, too, thought it was a dream, but I’m glad it wasn’t.” He reached up to slip a finger through the tiny hand that kneaded her breast. “If I hadn’t been alerted to the fact that you were carrying my child, madam, I might never have realized that you needed or even wanted me. For a time I was convinced that I was the only one who felt like that.”

“We made a beautiful son together,” Cerynise replied, dropping her head briefly on her husband’s shoulder. Reminded once again of what those two scoundrels had tried to do to her, she shivered. “Hold me close, Beau. I need to be reassured that I’m safe in your arms.”

Beau willingly obliged her, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck before spreading more kisses over her cheek and moving on to her mouth. When at last he leaned his head near hers and gazed down with doting pride upon his nursing son, the baby cut his eyes to look up at him. For barely an instant, Marcus stopped feeding and gave his father a happy gurgle. Then, with renewed dedication, he returned to his feast.

Several days passed before Sheriff Gates dropped by the warehouse to inform Beau of his lack of success in capturing Alistair Winthrop and Howard Rudd. Though the lawman and his posse had scoured the countryside
west of Charleston several times since the botched kidnapping, they had found no trace of the culprits. However, the sheriff had received reports that led him to believe that Alistair and Rudd might have fled back to England on the first ship available. Two men fitting the descriptions that Beau had supplied were seen boarding a ship which had set sail before his deputy could go and question its captain.

Beau sincerely hoped the two were gone, but he would need irrefutable proof that the scoundrels were still aboard the vessel when it set sail before he could feel assured of his wife’s safety. Although he considered Alistair and Rudd rather thick-witted at times, they had spurts of shrewdness which left him little choice but to suspect that they were not above faking their flight by devious methods. After he had checked with the captains of several ships inbound from London, which had docked the same day Alistair and Rudd had supposedly disembarked, Beau had failed to find their names on the lists of passengers. Yet, when he had gone to other vessels that had entered the port as much as a week earlier, his suspicions had been confirmed. Their arrival had been well in advance of Wilson’s murder. Having now become cognizant of the lie they had deliberately told for some unknown purpose, he was convinced that they were completely dedicated to creating any fabrication to achieve their own ends, perhaps even for the purpose of hiding a foul, murderous deed.

His mother and father came in to stay with them for a few days to get better acquainted with their grandson. It was gratifying for both Beau and Cerynise to see the older couple so engrossed in the little one, whose comical faces and bright-eyed cooing elicited their delighted laughter. To celebrate the new addition to the family, the four, bedecked in all their finery, went to the theater to watch the American actor, Edwin Forrest, in a production of
Othello.
Since it was the first evening that she and Beau had gone out in elegant garb since Marcus’s birth, Cerynise wanted to look especially nice for her husband. Her cream-colored satin gown, which bared her shoulders sublimely, was bejeweled
with tiny seed pearls and other diminutive beads that shimmered in the light. Her hair was dressed on top of her head, and a creamy plume curled coyly behind an ear. The cameo and pearl choker graced her throat, and pearl and diamond earrings glittered at her ears.

In all, Cerynise created a beautiful, radiant vision that drew more than a few admiring stares from other men. Germaine Hollingsworth’s own newly acquired escort stared agog until the petite brunette jabbed him surreptitiously with her elbow, quickly drawing his attention back to her. Even so, during the performance, Germaine caught him avidly perusing her tawny-haired rival through her opera glasses, which he had apparently borrowed for such a purpose.

“If you can’t keep your eyes off that little tart, Malcolm McFields, I’m going home!” she hissed in an huff. The actor’s booming voice made it necessary for her to repeat her threat in a somewhat louder tone, but in an abrupt moment of silence that ensued in the play, her last words were loud enough to draw sharp gasps of astonishment from the theater-goers and startle the performers. Germaine froze in sudden humiliation as she felt nearly every eye upon her. She saw the Birminghams glance around briefly, but they seemed much more interested in the performance than with her. The play resumed, but Germaine’s attention had now been ensnared by the four. It nettled her sorely when Beau pulled his wife’s gloved hand within his lap. As much as the conjecture disturbed her, she just couldn’t imagine him ogling another wench in Cerynise’s presence or her absence, which made Malcolm’s effrontery all the more angering. Germaine glared askance at her escort, but after suffering through such a painfully embarrassing ordeal, she was unwilling to issue another verbal reprimand lest she find herself completely flustered by a similar occurrence.