The Gambler (38 page)

"Go to hell!" she spat, flailing.

"Not right now."

"Let me go or I'll scream."

"You already did that. Do it again and you'll have men crawling all over you, Charm. Asking you questions, closing you in. But in the end they'll learn the truth. I'm your husband." His voice was little more than a whisper in her ear, but it seemed to boom like a death knell. "I've got my rights. So we might just as well go to the cabin and talk." He paused, loosening his grip marginally. "I won't touch you, I promise."

She fought to control her breathing, to push down the panic and bitter bile of betrayal. "All right." Her tone was steady. Her feet were lowered to the floor. She turned stiffly.

His face looked strained and she wondered if their fight had wounded him more than she knew. She hoped so and concentrated now on remembering exactly where the rattler had bitten him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. The bastard!

"Damn you," she said evenly.

"I think I am damned." His tone was cooler now, more controlled. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I'm ready,” she said. Drawing back her foot, she slammed the sharp toe of her shoe directly into his snakebite.

Pain shot through Raven's leg in flaming tendrils, streaking upward and outward. He gasped, and for a moment thought he might pass out. But gradually the truth of the situation came home to him.

She was getting away! In fact, she had thrown herself at the railing like a harried cat with claws outstretched, and was just about to fling herself overboard.

"Good God!" he cried, and jolting himself painfully into action, grasped her about the waist to drag her down again. She fought like a sacked bobcat, but he held on, feeling the blood drain from his face as her heels and fists found tender areas.

"Are you finished?" he asked finally when her thrashing subsided.

"No!" She swore, and kicked him again.

"So this is your blushing bride?" asked a carefully cultured voice.

Raven winced mentally. Charm slowed her agitated movements, pushing wild strands of hair aside to peer through the disheveled curtain at Captain Fields's impassive features.

His grey hair and beard were neatly trimmed, and his blue eyes showed a spark of sharp intelligent interest as he watched them. "She has a fondness for the water, does she, Mr. Scott?"

"I'm afraid there's been a small misunderstanding," Raven said, squeezing her middle as an unobtrusive warning for her to cease and desist. "Mrs. Scott has a bit of a temper."

"Truly?" Fields asked, somehow managing to act as if such a fact came as an utter surprise. "And what has she taken exception to? Nothing I've done I hope."

"No, sir," said Raven, and tentatively set Charm's feet to the gently shifting floor of the steamer. "It's just a spat. You know." He tried a careful smile, but everything from his ears on down ached. His greatest desire was to throttle the girl. If she got them tossed off the boat after everything he'd done to get them this far, he would. "A lovers' quarrel."

"I see."

Raven desperately hoped the good captain would leave now, for Charm hadn't hit him for several seconds. It was a record not likely to be outdone in the near future.

"Perhaps if you tell me what has caused this disagreement, I could help find a satisfactory solution." Fields paused, templing his fingers, and perhaps noticing the peculiar stiffness with which Raven stood, suggesting an ache in areas better left unmentioned. "Before she does you further bodily harm."

"It's nothing. Nothing to concern—" began Raven, but Charm interrupted with a sharp jab to his ribs.

"Devil's spawn!"

"I beg your pardon?" said Fields, not even raising his brows.

"She said, endless fun," Raven lied. "Endless fun, that's what we have together. She loves to—"

"He's the devil's spawn," she hissed. With the uncanny accuracy of a sidekicking mule, she jabbed her elbow into his still-healing chest wound. Pain again, sparkling outward in slicing shards. Raven gritted his teeth and held on.

"Perhaps you should release her," suggested Fields.

Raven smiled through his aching teeth. "What's that?"

"I think she's airing a bit of her temper now, Mr. Scott. Please release her."

And let her drown herself in the muddy waters below? Not likely. When she died, Raven fully intended to orchestrate the act himself. "I think it best to keep my hands on her for a moment, Captain."

"Were you aware that I'm the sole owner of the
Yankee Belle?"

"Really?" Raven asked, wondering irritably what the hell that had to do with any of his myriad pains and grunting softly as Charm's heel found his instep. "How... interesting."

"Yes. And therefore, while on this vessel I give the orders." Fields paused, settling his blue eyes on Raven's face. "Let the girl go."

There was nothing Raven could do but release her. He loosened his arms slowly, waiting for her to run. But she did not. Instead Charm straightened to push a few strands of hair back into her failing knot.

"Thank you, Captain." Her voice, Raven noticed, had taken on that husky tone it sometimes did when pressured

"You' re quite welcome, madam." Even though he stood absolutely straight, with his shoulders drawn sharply back and his hands clasped behind his hips, Captain Fields barely equaled Charm's height. Still, Raven got the distinct impression that Fields was the kind of man who did not need great physical stature to make him irresistible to women.

He turned now, his steely gaze sweeping the crowd that had gathered. A few of the faces Raven had noticed during his earlier fight, Clancy's irritating visage included.

"It seems Mr. Scott has again gifted us with a diversion," said the captain evenly. "But the entertainment is over now. Please disperse."

Every man, woman, and child remained exactly in place, as if certain war would break out again, and loath to miss a single blow.

"Please disperse," Fields repeated more coldly. The people finally snapped their jaws back into their proper positions and began to wander off, while throwing hungry glances back over their shoulders. Clancy, of course, didn't budge.

"Have you got a stake in this, Mr. Bodine?"

"Yes."

"No!" Raven exclaimed in unison with Clancy's affirmative.

"Yes, indeed I do," argued the other stoutly. "The lass is the daughter of a very dear friend of mine."

The captain turned slowly toward Charm. "Is that true, Madam?"

She raised her chin a notch further. "Between the two of them, sir, they've not spoken an honest word since infancy, I'm certain."

"I'm wounded," declared Clancy. Raven only glowered.

"I hadn't met either one of them before a month ago."

"I see. Then you are not wed to Mr. Scott?"

Here she paused and scowled. "Against my wishes, I assure you."

"I can see this is a tale not easily unwound," said Fields, still looking at Charm. "Perhaps we should retire to my quarters and discuss this."

"I really don't think that's necessary," began Raven, but Fields fixed him with a steady stare.

"It wasn't a request, Mr. Scott. Madam..." He lifted a hand, and to Raven's surprise, Charm quietly acquiesced, letting the man touch her back as he escorted her away.

They stepped into a sitting room of sorts, uniquely decorated with mismatched items from a hundred different lands. An intricately woven rug. A basket made from a strange manner of dyed reeds.

"Sit down, please," said Captain Fields.

Good God, how had it come to this? Raven wondered. "I'm sure you have more important things to do," he said. "We really shouldn't bother you."

"No, you shouldn't," agreed the captain, "but you have." He settled his gaze on Raven, who held it easily. "Let us not forget that you are, essentially, my guest, Mr. Scott."

Raven sat finally, knowing a threat when he heard one.

"Now." Fields paced the length of the room once before turning to look at each of them in turn. "Where do we begin?"

"I wish to obtain an annulment." Charm's voice was the first to enter the fray. Raven swore in silence. "Can you help me achieve that end, sir?"

"An annulment?" Though his expression showed little change, Fields's tone evidenced his surprise. "Forgive me for seeming indelicate, but, an annulment implies the absence of certain... rituals." He paused. "Have those... rituals been neglected?"

"No!"

"Yes!" Charm snapped, and glared at Raven.

Double goddamn! If he could just get her alone. Explain things. "I fear my wife is understandably angry," said Raven. "It seems she overheard my conversation with Mr. Bodine here and misunderstood..."

"I'll have an annulment, Mr. Fields," Charm said evenly.

"Perhaps we should start at the beginning," suggested Fields.

"Let's do," said Clancy, settling back in his chair.

"At the beginning," Fields repeated evenly. "And you start, madam."

It seemed to take forever to wind up the tale. Although every word spoken was surprisingly honest, discounting a few embellishments on Clancy's part, Raven found he sounded like nothing more than a gold-digging scoundrel. He resisted wriggling in his chair like a recalcitrant boy and took a sip of the spiced coffee a servant had brought in.

"So, in truth, you're uncertain of your own heritage, madam?" Fields asked now, still standing rigid with his arms behind his back.

Charm's eyes showed every bit of uncertainty that was in her soul. For a moment Raven would have given anything just to have taken her in his arms.

"It no longer matters." Her voice was very soft. Despite everything, Raven could hear no tension in it. Perhaps he should be grateful she had learned to trust as much as she had. Or perhaps it would never matter, for her hatred of him was something that could no longer be overcome. "I wish to return to my father."

"To Jude?" Fields, it seemed, had not missed a word.

"Yes." Charm remained very still, her slim hands clasped in her lap.

"And renounce your fortune?"

"Who can say if there is a fortune?" She quickly raised her gaze to the captain's. "But if there is, it's brought me nothing but trouble thus far."

"She's right," said Clancy, shaking his head like some worldly schoolmaster. "You've treated her shamefully, Joseph."

Shut the hell up,
Raven wanted to say. Instead, he remained silent, watching Charm's somber face. If he could just hold her. Just for a moment.

Fields paced again. "One has a responsibility to one's family, though, madam."

She pursed her funny little mouth, painfully reminding Raven of a thousand different events that had shaken his world over the past weeks.

"My responsibility is to Jude," she said softly. "And to myself. I want an annulment."

All eyes watched her.

"I fear I can't help you on that front, madam," Fields said quietly, "but I can, at least, give you some time to yourself, to think things through. I've a stateroom that adjoins mine. It would be an honor if you'd use it."

"But..." Every fiber in Raven's body screamed foul. He needed to see her alone. She was his
wife,
for God's sake! "We don't wish to trouble you, or
Mrs.
Fields," he said, thinking quickly.

The captain's gaze turned smoothly. If Raven weren't mistaken, there was, quite suddenly, a spark of laughter in it. "There is no Mrs. Fields."

Damn, damn, damn! "Then I fear it would hardly seem proper—" Raven began in his most formal tone.

"On the contrary," Fields interrupted, the shimmer of good humor hidden as he turned away. "It will be nothing but proper. I will consider Mrs. Scott's safety my personal responsibility, and will, if even remotely possible, grant her fondest desires. Mrs. Scott..." he went on, extending his arm to her, "if you'll accompany me, I'll show you to your quarters and send a roustabout round to retrieve your possessions."

"Charm!" Raven stood suddenly, though he knew better^ knew he should remain as he was, retain some pride.

Fields turned with her on his arm. "Yes, Mr. Scott?"

"She's my wife." They were, despite it all, the only words he could think to say.

Charm's smile appeared suddenly, slightly tilted, showing tiny dimples with her perfect insincerity. "I'll be certain to correct that problem at the earliest possible moment," she said, and turning smoothly, disappeared through the doorway on the captain's capable arm.

Dinner was excruciating. Perhaps fifty passengers crowded the dining area. Five shared the captain's table—Mr. Phelps, a man of obvious affluence, Fields, Clancy, Raven, and...

Charm! Only by the sheerest will power was Raven able to keep his gaze from welding to her. But in truth there was no need to look, for he'd relegated every detail to his memory. She sat at the captain's right, laughing her low lilting laugh now and then, and flirting. Not with words, or in any other concrete way, but flirting, nevertheless, to Raven's way of thinking.

Somehow she'd coaxed her hair to the top of her head, from where it spiraled down in intriguing curlycues of feminine appeal. Her face seemed to glow in the light of the falling sun, and her dress...

Raven swore in silence, forcing himself to keep his gaze from her, to remember his pride. But where the hell had she gotten that damn dress? It was lavender, sprigged with a design of delicate apple blossoms and cut so low that every time she drew a breath, Raven held his.

"Don't she look grand in that getup?" asked Clancy, leaning closer to Raven's left side. "Now you gotta agree, Joseph, there's an example of money well spent."

It took a moment for Raven to understand Bodine's meaning. This was the gown Charm had refused to buy, but Clancy had purchased anyway. It set his teeth on edge knowing she'd decided to wear it now, with another man, even if that man was over twice her age and a picture of proper etiquette.

Clancy chuckled. "Told you it fit her like a second skin, didn't I? That you'd thank me for my farsighted friendship someday? I'll tell you." He chuckled again. "When she first tried it on, I feared she'd bust right out of it, but you know, it's surprising how them seams hold all that... Joseph, you been smoking? I think there's steam coming out of yer ears."