Fortune's Flames (21 page)

Mary met her at the door. “Where have you been?” she asked.

Maren was too fatigued to lie to the anxious woman. She related her adventures and explained her sorry physical condition. Mary said she would prepare a soothing bath and a meal, and she recommended that Maren lie down and remain in her room that night. A weary and grateful young woman agreed.

After her stomach was filled and her skin was refreshed, Maren felt pleasingly relaxed. She donned
a cornflower blue nightgown and brushed her hair. Music and laughter and muffled voices came from beneath her, but she knew Dan Myers could handle everything for one night. She had already asked Mary if there had been any news from Jared, and there had not.

When the housekeeper returned for Maren’s tray, she said, “I found a letter under the edge of your bed while I was cleaning today, an old one from your parents. I put it on
the
desk near your bed.”

“Thank you, Mary. You’re so generous and thoughtful. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’re kind to say that, Miss Maren. I love working here, even more so since you moved in. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mary, if Jared returns, will you wake me and let me know?”

“Of course, child,” the housekeeper responded soothingly. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Maren locked her door and walked to her bed. As she sat down to remove her slippers, her aimless gaze touched on the letter. It was in a blue envelope. Her brow knit in puzzlement for she did not recall any of the letters being in colored envelopes. She reached for it. It was not sealed, but she knew she had not read it. And since Mary had told her this suite was cleaned regularly, it must have fallen from the packet she had taken from the safe. She decided to read it and then replace it without delay. Eric had been gone for only four weeks, but he might cut his trip short and return
before the six to eight weeks he’d planned to be away.

Maren withdrew the pages and read the baffling letter. Propped up by her pillows, she studied part of it: “I know you won’t mind my using this lovely stationery for you know how I love blue. Soon you will have been away for a year, and we miss you terribly. We have no one else to love besides you, yet you are so far away. Things have been going badly of late, and I am glad you are not here to witness them.”

Maren sighed. “What do you mean, Papa, no one else to love? What about Eric? What was happening last year?”

She read more. “I’m worried about our family. We’ve never been devious before, but much has changed lately. It’s a tough battle, Maren, a bitter one. If you get back here one day, don’t forget to take your China doll back with you. And my favorite Wedgwood piece. Between them, you should be very happy. You’ve always been such a clever girl, so I am certain you remember that poem we loved: ‘Blue is me. Red is you. Cut them in half; And you still have two.’”

“Whatever are you talking about, Papa? Did you write this letter in clues because you were afraid Eric would find it?”

Maren jumped up and went to the bookcase by the bedroom fireplace. Her father had placed the doll there. She took it in her hands and checked it over to see if a message was hidden upon it; she found none. She hated to do it, but she took the treasure apart to make certain nothing crucial was concealed inside;
she found nothing.

Then she reached for the Wedgwood box with the familiar design and color, but there was nothing unusual inside it and no message scratched on it. As Maren replaced the box, she noted that the doll would have to be repaired. She returned to her bed and again looked over the strange letter.

“I wish I had stopped you from going to London to marry Daniel,” it said. “After your mother told me why you had consented, each morning I prayed you haven’t gone through with the wedding. One should marry for love, Maren, for no other reason. If I had been as smart as you believe I am, I would have introduced you to the perfect man for you, the son of a friend of mine. You’ll meet him one day, and I just hope it won’t be too late for him to turn your head like your mother turned mine. He is a man you could trust with your life, this Jared Morgan. I’ve been very wrong about some men, but not about him. Lastly I bid you not to be afraid to take risks, Maren; you are Lady Luck.”

Maren went to bed, her curiosity aroused. Something vital was concealed at Lady Luck. But what and where? She couldn’t tear the place apart to find whatever it was her father wanted her to know or to have, and Lady Luck was so big it could take years to find his hiding place. That night she was too tired to decipher the clues. The secret had waited for this long, and it could remain hidden one more day.

A smile teased over her face as she thought of her father’s description of Jared. Cameron would be
pleased if he knew they had gotten together. Well, she mused, almost together, soon to be together.

She sat up in bed and frowned. How convenient it was that this missing letter vilified Eric and championed Jared….

Jared had gone upstairs last night to change his clothing before he left. He had gotten into her room before, so he might have placed the letter where it could be found during his absence. What, she wondered, could his motivation be? And how had he gotten the letter? No, she had to be wrong. She was just thinking wildly because she was tired.

She went to her father’s liquor cabinet and poured herself a whiskey, then drank it, coughing and wheezing after each swallow. Having done this, she returned to bed and was asleep within twenty minutes.

Evelyn Sims asked, “What are we going to do about that James tart? She isn’t failing over there or getting scared like Lewis wants.”

Howard Heath looked her in the eye and said, “Kill her, of course.”

Evelyn argued, “That isn’t what we’re supposed to do, Howard. Besides, I thought you wanted a taste of her. You said you were going to kidnap her and rough her up good. That’s the best way to send Miss James fleeing.”

He smiled wickedly. “I plan to take the bitch before I cut her throat. I’ll do that just as soon as
Morgan’s out of my way. We’ll have to charge Lewis double for getting rid of Captain Hawk.”

“Kill Jared Morgan?” she asked fearfully.

Hatred was evident in the man’s eyes and voice. “After the way those two treated me in public Monday, I’ll enjoy every minute of their pain.”

“Check this plan out with Mr. Lewis first,” she cautioned.

“Hell no!” Heath snorted. “I don’t want that snooty lawyer interfering with my plans. He said to scare her out, and you can’t get any farther out than being dead. I might even do the Morgan job for free.”

Thursday night Maren walked from one room to another in her suite, unable to relax. Jared had been gone since early Tuesday evening. She had received no messages from him, and she was alarmed by his lengthy absence. Due to the strong whiskey she had drunk the preceding night, she had slept until noon. She had gone downstairs that evening, but had not stayed long. Unable to concentrate on business and not feeling like smiling and talking with the patrons, Maren had decided a long bath would refresh and calm her. But as time passed, she became more annoyed with Jared for worrying her so.

If something terrible happened to him, how would she learn of it? How could she aid him?

Clad for bed in a thin nightgown, she doused nearly all of the candles and lamps in her suite. The contents of the letter that Mary had found yesterday kept flashing across her mind. Surely her father had
been beseeching her to trust Jared Morgan and to doubt Eric James.

“It’s all about trust, isn’t it, Maren?” she asked herself.

“Yes, it is.” Jared’s voice came from behind her.

Maren whirled and suppressed a cry of panic. She had not heard him enter. “You must stop doing that, Jared,” she chided.

He came forward with a purposeful stride, one which revealed his agility and confidence. “Do you trust me, Maren?”

“Can I, Jared? Should I? Where have you been?”

Jared’s gaze took in her concern and vexation. “I trust you, Maren; that’s why I’ll answer. I’ve been meeting with some troublemakers in this area. The British are hoping to stir up three factions against us: the pirates, the slaves, and the Indians. I’ve been trying to see what I could find out about this plot. Do you realize how vulnerable we would be to a British attack if we are busy battling other enemies? I must uncover the details of this plan and try to thwart it.”

“You mean the British would incite brutal conflicts just to weaken us?”

“This is war, Maren; our enemy will stop at nothing to defeat us. I’m sorry you’ve been so frantic; I couldn’t get word to you. I thought I would be back yesterday morning.”

“Is it really that bad, Jared?”

“Not yet, but it can be if I don’t halt them.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

He smiled as he reached forward to caress her cheek. “If I think of something and it’s not dangerous to do, I’ll let you know. I don’t want you killed. You’re special to me, woman.”

“I looked for you yesterday,” she confessed.

“I know. Perhaps I should have told you my ship is anchored in Lake Borgne. If the Royal Navy heads up the river to attack New Orleans, I would be able to escape from that anchorage and nip their rears.”

The war had remained almost unreal to Maren until this moment. Now Jared’s words and his peril brought it to life. “How can you stop this madness they’re plotting?”

“By warning the plantation owners to be on the alert against agitators and by making the local authorities aware of a possible Indian uprising. If the right people know how and where trouble will be stirred up, they can prevent it or squash it quickly. I also need to persuade the pirates to join us instead of the British.”

“You want pirates to join us?”

“A soldier is a soldier, Maren. The Royal Navy is powerful and large. We need every man, gun, and brave heart we can find. Those men have as much at stake as any of us. Some of them have suffered under the British, have been impressed. We need their help, Maren; they have guns, ammunition, supplies. And they have ships with which to attack the British warships.”

“Can you trust them?” she inquired skeptically.

“It’s amazing what some men will do when you
show them respect and trust, and when they are truly needed.”

Maren sensed that Jared was referring to more than the dangers at hand. His words sounded almost accusatory. She traced his lips with her fingers as she said, “If anyone can obtain their aid, it’s you, Captain Hawk. I’ve learned you can be most persuasive.”

The candlelight danced lovingly over Jared’s face, exposing the warm glow in his eyes, and a fiery flush suddenly consumed Maren’s receptive body. His light brown hair with the tawny tips was mussed, but that only enhanced his appeal. His skin, what she could see of it, was tanned and unmarred. His billowy shirt—cloud white like his teeth when he smiled—was open to a few inches below his heart, where she longed to nuzzle her cheek. Drawn to him, she was helpless to resist the pull. Like leaves in a brisk wind, her senses were suddenly scattered, wild and free. Jared was mesmeric and persuasive, and Maren felt a curious tension mounting between them, around them, within her. This tension was heavily laced with anticipation, not restrictiveness or fear. She did not move or speak as her gaze communicated with his.

Jared was alert and perceptive. He sensed that she was ready to explore the bond stretched tight between them like a hawser, the emotional rope that urged him to tow her into his arms and moor her there forever. As he looked deeply into her limpid eyes, he had to battle the golden brown currents there to keep
from losing his wits and being set adrift, rudderless. The aura around her spoke of
paradise,
and he desperately wanted to visit it. He wanted to bask in the radiant glow of her eyes, to spend exotic days in her sultry arms. Her hair flowed in dark waves around her head and shoulders, and she drew him to her as powerfully as a whirlpool, yet as gently as a small eddy.

A talented artist might have placed her features on the figurehead decorating the bow of a ship. Her lips were parted as if in invitation, and even though her skin was darker than most women’s, he could tell it was unblemished and creamy soft. His heart was thudding heavily and his breathing was quickening. She was unintentionally causing him to lose some of his self-assurance and to neglect his seductive skills. He feared doing or saying the wrong thing. He wanted this night to be perfect for her. He wanted her heart as much as he wanted her body. He had waited a long time to possess her, and he did not intend to rush this precious moment.

Unable to keep from touching her, his quivering fingers slipped into her shiny hair and pleasured themselves in its fullness. He watched her shut her eyes dreamily and then lean her head into his palm, nuzzling it like an affectionate kitten being stroked by an adoring owner. He brushed his lips over her forehead, then trailed them ever so slowly and enticingly over her brows, temples, nose, and cheeks. He kissed her closed eyes and finally, tentatively, claimed her mouth, at first softly and then hungrily.
He groaned, expressing his rising need for her, and banded her tightly against his trembling body.

Their tongues touched, savored, and teased; snailishly at first, then swiftly and demandingly. Spontaneously, their hands joined in the sensuous and tantalizing quest. Tonight they would delve into the magic which enchanted and united them, and they would solve its mysteries. They would challenge this heady sea together and travel each knot side by side, through calm or turbulence. Tonight there would be no captain or first mate, only loving partners. They would examine their feelings, their attraction; would test its strength and uniqueness. Undeniably paradise beckoned.

Maren’s head steadily drifted backward as Jared’s seeking mouth wandered down the silky column of her neck. His teeth gently nibbled at her collarbone, and his tongue played in the hollow of her throat before his provocative journey was halted by her garment.

“It’s Thursday night,” he murmured into her ear before playfully nipping its enticing lobe, causing her to quiver and squirm.

She laughed softly. “You didn’t knock first,” she reminded him, her voice constricted by desire. She felt as if she were aflame and nothing could douse the fire.

It was the same for Jared. He had difficulty breathing and speaking, thinking, moving, holding still. His body felt heavy, yet light. He was tense, yet free. He was experiencing a strange and unfamiliar
range of emotions and sensations. He looked into her seductive eyes and asked, “Do I need to?”

Maren returned his gaze as she shamelessly responded, “The only no you’ll receive tonight is to that question.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, suddenly feeling as if his vast experience and skills were insufficient. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he knew there was pain involved during a woman’s first union with a man. He wanted her to find pleasure and satisfaction with him, yet he wondered if he could restrain himself long enough to give them to her.

“Yes, Jared, I’m ready; I have been for years.” Color slightly tinged her cheeks, but it was due more to blazing passion than modesty. “I don’t know what to do, so you’ll have to guide me through this adventure.”

“Just relax, Maren, and allow your instincts to take command. Anything that doesn’t come to you naturally, I’ll teach you.”

“Teach me everything, Jared. I want to experience all with you.”

Jared unbuttoned her gown, but did not remove it. He must cover this new territory carefully and leisurely, allowing her time to deal with her modesty and apprehensions. No matter how brave and hungry she was at this moment, haste could spoil her willing surrender.

Jared’s lips captured hers as he slipped a hand into the opening of her gown and gently covered a breast.
His tongue invaded her mouth, savoring its sweetness, while he caressed the fleshy mound and tenderly thumbed the taut bud on it. He was amazed by the contrast between the rigidity of the peak and the satiny texture of her breast. With great care, his mouth trailed down her throat and closed over the nipple. As he lavished moist and hot attention there, he felt her shudder, heard her moan. His tongue circled and flicked the joyous bud while he eased her gown off her shoulders. It quickly snaked to the floor, to lie around her bare feet.

Maren instinctively disentangled them and kicked the garment aside. His strong hands were caressing her bare arms and back, and she gave herself to the blissful sensations dazing her. Lost to the sounds coming from below them, she was aware only of their rising passion.

Jared tensed briefly as her quivering hands impatiently drew his billowy shirt over his head and her fingers roamed his bare torso. Her long hair gently caressed his body as she pressed kisses to his chest. Then she buried her fingers in his hair and drew his lips to her aching, pleading breasts. Because of his height, Jared was in an uncomfortable position, but he hated to move just yet, even to the enticing bed not far away. His mouth returned to hers and greedily feasted there, and though his body craved swift union with hers, he labored lovingly to arouse her to an even higher plane of urgency. His hand touched the incredibly silky curls which guarded her womanhood, parted her downlike
maidenhair, and located the satiny folds which were fiery yet damp.

The peak they hid was hot and hard. It begged to be pleasured. Very cautiously, because he knew an aroused bud was sensitive at this point of lovemaking, he massaged it until it craved to burst into bloom, skillfully tormenting her to a frenzy of yearning.

Maren’s legs were shaky and she knew they would not support her weight much longer. “Jared, you’re making me weak with longing. I can hardly stand. If we don’t lie down, I shall melt to the floor.”

Jared scooped her into his arms and placed her on the bed. In the pale candlelight his adoring gaze traveled her full length, and his desire intensified. “You’re a treasure, my beautiful and bewitching siren,” he murmured in a low, thick voice.

Maren opened her arms. “Then lay claim to me, my roguish pirate, because I can endure no more plundering.”

Jared chuckled happily,
the
sound mellow and soothing to her ears. “Let me eye you a moment longer, for your beauty steals my breath and plays havoc with my self-control.”

“You can study your prize later, my love. Now please come and enjoy it. Do you want this carefully ignited fire to cool before it can consume us?” she teased, feeling marvelously free spirited and bold.

“My fire needs to cool a mite, my blazing booty, else I might ravish you the moment our bodies touch.”

“And waste all that wonderful kindling?”

“Nothing is wasted on you, Maren, nothing.”

Their gazes locked and they smiled, each realizing how aroused the other was.

Even more than the scent of the sea, her fragrance called out to him, intoxicating his senses. As he removed his boots and unbuckled his belt, he suddenly wished
the
room were dark for he feared the sight of his tumid manhood might frighten her.

But Maren’s mother had discussed this aspect of sex with her daughter. She had told Maren not to panic over a man’s size and eagerness, had explained what would take place on her first night with a man and later. Naturally Maren was nervous because of her inexperience, but she knew that Jared would be gentle and patient with her. She witnessed her love’s hestiation and was touched by it. To relax him, she teased, “Don’t tell me you’re shyer than I am, my lusty privateer.”

“This is new for you, Maren, and I don’t want to frighten you. Actually it’s new for me too love, so bear with me.” He removed his pants and tossed them onto the floor. Strange, he had never felt more naked and vulnerable in his life! He prayed she was too aroused to be frightened by the sight of his prominent manhood.

But before he could join Maren, she said, “Please wait a moment, Jared. Let me see you as you’ve seen me.”

He halted and gazed at her, and her eyes slowly roamed over his lean, hard body. His golden brown
shoulders were broad and powerful, his midriff flat, his hips narrow. She noticed the ripples of his rib cage and the way his muscles rose and fell, reminding her of gently rolling hills covered by supple grass. His flesh looked smooth and snug, and his tan halted at his waist. She eyed the curling fuzz on his chest, followed it down his sleek abdomen.

Jared was thrilled by her courage and admiration. Enflamed by her pervasive study of his naked frame, he joined her on the bed. Lying half atop her, he longingly gazed into her flushed face and entreating eyes, relieved that she had not been discouraged or intimidated by him. His lips and hands again caressed her, rapidly arousing flames of raging desire.