Captives' Charade (32 page)

She wanted to scream at his shallow, hedonistic attitude, but managed to control herself. “That is impossible, as well you know. The luxury of living for the moment is passed. ‘Tis best we forget what’s happened and resume our former roles.” Even to her own ears, the words sounded clipped and forced.

He gave her one last stirringly sensual look before leaving her alone with her troubled thoughts. “Resume our former roles? I suppose that is sensible. But forget?” His eyes held hers with smoldering intensity as his words caressed her. “Forget, Sarah? Never.” And then he was gone. CHAPTER 31

More than two months behind schedule, Sarah was thrilled by her first glimpse of Charleston, South Carolina. Though she knew America was somewhat civilized, she was unprepared for the modern, bright and bustling view of the southern city as they made their way up Charleston Bay. Even in November, the weather was moderate and greenery abounded beyond the white sandy beaches that greeted them.

Dressed in one of only two decent dresses she had been able to collect from the poorly provisioned ship, a rather nondescript dark brown, high necked gown of serviceable linen, and her green wool pelisse, Sarah stood on deck to observe the excitement of her first docking on American shores.

Everywhere there was movement, but it was the commanding figure of one man who held Sarah’s attention most raptly. Stewart, looking tall and lean, stood at the bow, signaling directions to Jeremiah on the bridge, giving Sarah’s heart ridiculous little twinges of nostalgia as she remembered how very close they had once been and how very much she longed for that intimacy again.

But even though Stewart’s eyes occasionally told her he, too, wanted that intimacy again, his manner toward her was beyond reproach, a turn of events she found ridiculously frustrating. Accustomed to spending so much time alone with him, Sarah found it increasingly difficult to accept the fact that he was deliberately avoiding such situations now. Jeremiah, warm and congenial as ever, seemed to have attached himself to Stewart’s coattails. All their meals were taken together, as well as any other time Sarah could hope to talk with Stewart alone. She knew, of course that this was for the best, but that did not make it less frustrating.

The Endeavour was no stranger to Charleston Harbor, Sarah soon learned. Berthing was met with cheerful greetings called from sailors working on the ships anchored alongside, as well as from earthy-looking dock workers, all eager to trade the latest news. But business came before pleasure. Jeremiah’s crew worked swiftly to put the ship abed before anyone was allowed to disembark.

But at last the moment came. A carriage had been summoned and when it pulled up alongside the gangplank, Sarah felt a hand cupping her elbow, turning to find Stewart smiling beside her. “Well, my fair English rose, are you ready for your first walk on Yankee soil?”

“Ohyes,”shebeamedhappily.“Itseemslike a dream.”

Bending his dark head so that his words were for her ears only, Stewart whispered teasingly, “Should you require pinching to ascertain the fact that you are not dreaming, I will be only too happy to accommodate you.” He laughed at her surprised gasp and the attractive blush that suddenly colored her fresh face. “Come then, Lady Sarah, let’s be off. The comforts of a warm bath, a decent meal, and a soft bed await you.” Stewart walked her down the gangplank, handing her carefully to the driver of the carriage waiting on the street.

Immediately Stewart was converged upon by an assorted group of men milling on the dock. Without turning around, Sarah heard him promise them all a full report after they’d had a chance to settle in. “The Ram’s Head at nine, then?” a drawling voice called as Stewart followed her into the carriage.

“Whereelse?”herepliedjovially,pokinghis head outside for a final farewell, “I’ve been hankering for Belcher’s ale since New Year’s last.”

“Not as much as Belcher’s daughter’s been hankering for you!” a crude voice interjected, followed by a chorus of raucous laughter as the driver pulled the horses away.

Surprised by the familiar banter, Sarah sat across from Stewart in the comfortable coach. Seeing that he was not going to explain the remark, she observed, “I didn’t realize you had so many acquaintances so far from your home.”

“Inmybusiness,”herespondedcasually, “the entire Atlantic coast is more or less home. Jeremiah and I come here frequently, which, by the way, is fortunate for you.”

“How so?” she asked, her curiosity overtaking her.

Stretching a long leg onto the seat beside her, he exhaled comfortably. “Because I can promise a replacement for your wardrobe posthaste. Am I correct in assuming that you’re in need of some things before we arrive in Boston?”

“Oh yes!” she cried, delighted, her reticence gone. “I must admit I was none too pleased at the prospect of meeting my hostess in these well-worn rags, but they happen to be the best I have at present. But how will you manage it?”

“Averydear,oldfriend,”herepliedeasily, “in the business of dressing beautiful women. I can summon her this evening if you like.”

“Can you really? Oh, but ....” her face fell with quick realization.

 

“Don’t tell me you’ve somehow made other plans,” he cajoled her.

“No,” she hesitated, feeling quite uncomfortable. “It’s just that I-I haven’t any funds. D’Alava confiscated the money my father provided for me.”

“Now don’t you worry about a thing, Sarah,” he reassured her, reaching over to pat her hand paternally. “Our cargo was heavily insured and I have connections with the Charleston bank. I was planning to get some cash for you first thing in the morning. We’ll settle the rest when we return to Boston. Feel better now?”

“Much,” she sighed, relieved with the knowledge that she was not his financial burden. Somehow it would have made her situation ... awkward.

The Back River Inn was palacial and Stewart was obviously no stranger there. Despite their rather mundane appearance in sharp contrast to the glamorously-attired staff in silk and fine cotton, their entrance was met
“Welcome to Charleston,
with warm hospitality. Mr. Chamberlain,” the

stately desk clerk offered in his pleasant drawl. “It’s been nearly a year, hasn’t it?”

“Thatishas,Mr.Henderson,andIammore pleased to return than you could imagine,” Stewart replied as he accepted the quill from the older man. As he registered, Sarah standing quietly next to him, he continued, “Is the Carolina Suite available by any chance? I’d like Lady Sarah Tremont to have it if possible, and rooms close by for Captain Slade and myself.”

“Of course, sir,” the gray-haired man agreed without hesitation and Sarah had the feeling that there was nothing Stewart could ask for that would not be granted. “I’ll summon Mr. Mason to handle your luggage.”

Stewart chuckled unselfconsciously as he finished writing. “I’m afraid there’s precious little of that on this trip, Mr. Henderson. Our crossing was met by a rather greedy band of pirates. We’re here only to reprovision before heading for Boston. Which reminds me,” he added, glancing at Sarah. “Could you please summon Madame Petit to Lady Sarah’s quarters this evening? She’ll be needing some things rather quickly.”

“Consideritdone,”Hendersonreplied, offering Sarah an understanding smile. Then turning his kindly gray eyes back to Stewart, added, “Your suites will be ready shortly. Perhaps you’d like to wait in the dining room? They’re serving tea.”

“Thank you,” Stewart said. “I’m sure Lady Sarah would like that after our rather uncivilized voyage.” Offering Sarah his arm, he called over his shoulder as they began walking toward the dining room. “Should Captain Slade arrive, would you please tell him where we are?”

“Certainly sir,” Henderson promised and then his eyebrows suddenly shot up as he remembered something. “Mr. Chamberlain, excuse me!” Stewart and Sarah turned around at the sound of his anxious voice. “I nearly forgot to tell you. This is quite a coincidence. There’s someone in the dining room who’s been asking for you, though we had no idea you would be here.”

“Did he give his name?” Stewart asked, though Sarah thought him surprisingly indifferent.

“No sir. He and the lady, his sister I believe, only arrived yesterday. She seemed quite concerned for your whereabouts. I believe now they’re trying to arrange passage to Boston in hopes of finding you there.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Henderson,” Stewart replied, his brow furrowing as he considered the desk attendant’s words. “We’ll see them now.”

Unable to contain her curiosity, Sarah wasted no time asking questions. “Do you know who it is, Stewart?”

“Ihavemysuspicions,”hedrawled,afrown creasing his handsome features, “but it makes no sense.”

“Stewart! My darling!” They had arrived at the entrance to the dining room and the few heads present turned in surprise as the beautiful woman, dressed in billowing lavender silk, flamboyantly bolted from her chair and rushed to the couple standing there. “My God! I can’t believe you’re here and you’re safe!” By this time the strikingly gorgeous lady had flung herself at Stewart, and oblivious to all, was crushing him in an intimate embrace, which, Sarah noticed, was met without resistance. Indeed Stewart was smiling, nearly laughing, a fact that disturbed her more than she was willing to admit.

“Felicia,youareeverfullofsurprises,”he crooned as he held the raven-haired beauty by the shoulders, looking her over as one would examine a familiar but cherished ornament. Obviously he was pleased with everything he saw, Sarah surmised as she turned her gaze to the woman, who was touching him as if she were searching for broken bones. And that was what jarred her memory. Of course, the woman at the London docks! The very one he had so passionately kissed before setting sail. But what was she doing here?

“We heard your ship was captured,” Felicia was exhorting, her sultry voice sounding carefully anguished. “Captain Lattimer saw the Endeavour being escorted southward upon his return from the West Indies. When he told us, I made Ross book us passage on the first ship to America, a wretched but speedy little freighter bound for Charleston.” She sniffed in tearful remembrance and Sarah had a malicious thought that indeed she was a very good actress for her features were unmarred by tears. “I simply could not wait to hear if you were all right. We were just this morning searching for transport to Boston to see if you’d arrived there, and if not, well, darling, you know I would have searched the world to find you.”

Stewart’s brown eyes twinkled with mirth. “Somehow, Felicia, I find it difficult to feature you bearing the discomforts of the sea life simply to find me, but,” he added, cautioned by her pretty pout, “I am grateful for your concern. As you can see, we’re unscathed.”

At the mention of “we,” Felicia turned her attention to Sarah, her beautifully-shaped almond eyes narrowing perceptively at the much younger woman standing to the side. Despite her plain attire, she was still stunningly beautiful. “And who might this be, dearest?” she asked sweetly as her arm encircled his waist possessively.

“Lady Felicia Amberling,” Stewart had suddenly affected a formal tone, “may I present Lady Sarah Tremont, daughter of the Duke of Weston. Weston is a business associate. Lady Sarah has come to America with me to represent her father in a legal transaction.

“Lady Sarah,” Stewart turned to her, “Felicia is the widow of the Duke of Hartwick. She serves Queen Charlotte at the court of King George. She and I have been friends for many years.” The women exchanged a formal, and somewhat cool, greeting. Sarah could not help but notice the catbird gleam in the dowager’s jewel-like violet eyes. The spark told her a great deal more about her relationship with Stewart than his introduction.

And the way Stewart had introduced Sarah served as a vivid reminder that their charade was over. How cold and impersonal he had sounded. Even knowing it was in her best interest, Sarah was miffed, the noxious green stone of jealousy sitting heavily in her stomach.

“I am charmed to meet you, my dear,” the Duchess purred in a superior tone. “Such a terrible experience for one so young. Is this your maiden voyage abroad?”

Her well-chosen double entendré shocked the younger woman, particularly under these strained circumstances. “Yes it is, Ma’am,” Sarah replied tightly.

“Oh,docallmeFelicia,won’tyou?These colonists have a charming disdain for titles, and I wouldn’t want to draw undue attention,” she confessed with honeyed sweetness. As if she didn’t go out of her way to draw attention, Sarah thought spitefully. “May I call you Sarah?”

“By all means,” the younger woman smiled without warmth.

At that moment, they were joined by a dapper and good-looking young man, almost as tall as Stewart, though of a slighter build. His dark hair was neatly clipped and straight, combed away from his face to give notice to expressive eyes of forest green. Giving Stewart a friendly clap on the back, he announced in an engaging tenor voice, “May I say how delighted I am to see you safe and sound, Stewart, old boy, for Felicia would have dragged me ‘round the world in search of you, and I can think of much better things to do ... like being introduced to your lovely companion,” he added with a flirtatious wink in Sarah’s direction.

“Ross, good to see you again,” Stewart smiled, shaking the younger man’s hand. “You are looking none the worse for wear.”

“Neither are you, Yankee, though my sister had us believing the worst. Pirates, eh?” But before he could continue, Felicia broke in effusively.

“Ross darling, this is Lady Sarah Tremont, daughter of the Duke of Weston. Sarah, this is my precious brother, The Earl of Rossing. Our mother was married to his father, the Marquess of Shaftsbury.” She was obviously proud of her brother
– and his bloodline. “Now do be a gentleman, Ross. You can see she’s no more than a child. Please help her to get some tea before she swoons.”

TakingSarah’spro fferedhand,Ross graciously kissed her on the glove as she murmured a stiff greeting. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Sarah,” he said, ignoring his sister’s call to dispense with titles. “Please come and join our table, won’t you? As an Englishwoman, you must be rabid for tea.” Taking her arm, leaving Stewart and Felicia to follow, he whispered, “Felicia has absolutely no manner when it comes to our Mr. Chamberlain. You should have been seated at once. You must be quite exhausted.”