Captives' Charade (7 page)

“Why thank you. I’d be delighted,” he replied, settling his lean form in the chair beside her. She immediately noticed how the firelight illuminated his twinkling eyes and long, dark lashes. He was dressed in a dark coat, closely tailored, and his ruffled shirt was unbuttoned as was the top of his matching vest, exposing a peak of his sunbrowned, muscular chest.

“I am truly sorry if I shocked you,” he said, crossing his long legs encased in tight trousers. “I was looking through your father’s books for one to take to bed. The gentle – though enjoyable – pace of my visit here is one I am unaccustomed to and I find it difficult to sleep.”

Finding his tone of voice hospitable and lacking any unseemly Sarah relaxed slightly and began picking daintily at her food. “I too find that reading is an excellent potion for sleeplessness. I am grateful that my father encouraged me to read as much as I wished.” genuinely innuendo,

“Your father is a wise man,” Stewart nodded, “for I’ve yet to find a soul that reading has harmed. I think you would find America to your liking, since the practice of encouraging young ladies to read is becoming commonplace. I, for one, applaud the trend.”

Casting her azure eyes down to the plate on her lap, she answered lightly, “Yes, much, though I doubt I’ll be able to ride for a few days.”

“You took quite a fall you know. I hope you will not hold it against me for too long, for I would not wish us to part adversaries,” he said gently.

Sarah shifted nervously on the couch, avoiding his deep gaze. “I do not see why it matters so much what my feelings are toward you. I am sure you have plenty of female acquaintances who find your attentions pleasing. One more or less should make no difference, I would think.”

Stewart laughed softly, “Ah, but rarely do I meet a woman of your captivating beauty who is intelligent as well. I think we could enjoy each other’s company were you to give yourself a chance.”

“FromwhatIhaveobserved,”Sarahreplied haughtily, “you are too little interested in my companionship. You seem more eager to wrench unwilling kisses from me and in case it is not clear to you, I find such behavior arrogant and abusive.”

“How long do you hope to deny yourself the pleasures of your own needs, Lady Sarah?” Stewart asked, his words touching her like an intimate caress. “You may not have approved of my boldness, but you must admit you found enjoyment in my arms, for your own response was warm.”

“Icannotbelievemyownears!”Sarah squeaked. “Have you no sense of decency? We can neither be talking about – nor doing – what you so boldly and knavishly suggest. And where is your pride? Why do you even bother me, when I have told you quite clearly that I do not care for you in the least?”

Stewart seemed unperturbed by her remarks as he responded easily, stretching his long legs before him. “Let me tell you something, Sarah. I learned early in life that a man who is a good judge of character can greatly economize his time and efforts, thereby saving his energies for that which is most important to him. I find you most intriguing, for your dark beauty suits my tastes. You are also quick-witted and lacking in coyness, which I admire in any woman. But all your assets would not have maintained my interest save for one ingredient I deem essential.” He paused and Sarah knew she would die of curiosity before she would ask him to continue.

“That quality,” he said finally, “is passion -a true fire that causes a woman to respond in the way nature intended.” His mesmerizing voice suddenly turned matter-of-fact. “Perhaps now you can see why I was forward. I wanted to know if you possessed that passion, Sarah, and now that I know you do, I can be more leisurely in my efforts to have you, for I know you will be worth the effort.”

Sarah was plainly appalled. Here was this man, a foreigner, a guest in the Duke of Weston’s home, telling her in the same tone of voice he would use to read aloud from a newspaper, that he was planning to bed her. Far from an expression of desire, it was a statement of fact, as if he were some sort of fortune teller who could accurately predict their future.

Why,heevenlookedlikesomesortof demon sitting there against the shadows cast by the flickering firelight, his dark hair rimmed in a golden glow, his brown eyes dancing with fiery flecks. The handsome cut of his nose and chin was chiseled by the blaze, causing his casual grin to appear menacing.

Frightened by his ominous yet strangely attractive countenance and his overpowering selfconfidence, Sarah was at a complete loss for words. Never had she encountered a member of the opposite sex so blatant in his desire for her. And she was of such limited experience that there was nothing she could summon to help her now. Her earlier decision to avoid him had already proved unsuccessful, for here she was, trapped in his lair again.

And then it suddenly dawned on her: Stewart Chamberlain appeared to be an honest man. He frankly desired her, and just as honestly, though cruelly, he had offered his assessment of her father’s concern for her spinsterhood.

She was absolutely convinced that her father would only join in partnership with a man of high integrity and trustworthiness. And he was indeed among her father’s favorites, if appearances could be judged. Being honest herself, she decided to respond without pretense.

While observing the interesting play of her lovely, serious face as she considered his words, Stewart smiled inwardly and once again pondered his good fortune in having met the Duke of Weston. A man born to wealth and privilege, Weston had begun a trading business by purchasing a few ships captained by men who were willing to take unusual risks to assure England of goods which were most desirable and least readily obtainable. Through his own personal efforts, Weston had added new fortunes to the previous wealth he had inherited. And while his fellow aristocrats may not have approved of his risky and unnecessary adventures, Weston was much too powerful – and popular – to snub.

Now the maverick gentleman, who saw his thriving business as an exciting game, was all too aware of the difficulties involved in trading with the young United States. And yet the market for American goods was never better. Weston, ever a loyal British lord and subject, could not agree with his business associates who felt threatened by America’s growing share of trade. “There’s room for all of us to prosper,” he had told Chamberlain at their first meeting in London, “and I intend to.”

Great Britain had enacted the Orders in Council in 1807 which forbade neutral ships to trade with Europe – especially France – without stopping in England first. Intending to strike a blow against American traders, England had not counted on the skill or daring of Yankee blockade runners. The United States still prospered, but grew in their outrage over the British practice of impressments: taking British deserters off American vessels to return them to the stricter and lower-paying jobs of English seamen. Many of these sailors, however, were true American citizens, and were actually being kidnapped to build up the dwindling British navy. President Jefferson retaliated with The Embargo Act, which forbade American ships to sail for any foreign port, a horrendous self-inflicted blow to U.S. trade.

Thousands of sailors were immediately put out of work. Ships rotted in the harbors while merchants stood by helpless, their businesses ruined. Stores of American wheat, cotton and tobacco piled up on the docks, their prices plummeting to rock bottom.

Chamberlain, who had made his own fortune as a shipbuilder and trader, had been lucky enough to escape immediate devastation. But he could not sit idly by while good seamen lost their jobs, fine ships deteriorated in the harbors and much-needed goods sat wasting away without a market. At the first opportunity, he sailed for England, determined to find people who agreed that these economic boycotts were wasteful and ill-conceived and was bent on finding a scheme that would bring some order to all this chaos.

Weston, impressed with the younger man’s common sense – as well as his courage to gamble with the world power bureaucracies – immediately agreed to a partnership whereby they would trade under a neutral foreign flag. Together, they had the financial resources, the political influence, and the business know-how to succeed – and both were eager to begin.

But not too eager to leave, Stewart thought, running a long, lean finger across the cleft of his chin as he surveyed the woman beside him in the firelight. In her softly clinging dressing gown, her dark, glossy hair streaming over her firm breasts, she looked like a delicate rosebud, ready to blossom at the slightest provocation. He could almost imagine how tantalizing she would be, writhing beneath him in ecstasy as they jointly partook of the joys their bodies could give each other. But as his dark eyes rose again to her face, it was not the smoky blue gaze he had imagined, but a wide, troubled one.

“Mr.Chamberlain,”shepleaded,her sensuous lips quivering slightly. “Please. There is something I must say to you. And it will be much too difficult if you continue to stare at me – in that way.” Sarah squirmed on the sofa, pulling her gown more protectively around her slim form.

Drawing a deep breath, Sarah prayed fervently that her words would resolve the tension she felt whenever he was near. Hoping her honesty would appeal to his sense of fairness, she began, “Mr. Chamberlain, a man of your vast experience must surely realize that I have led a rather sheltered, quiet existence. I am troubled by your boldness and have so far been unsuccessful in making my objections clear. Since I do not wish to offend my father by being rude to his guest, I would like to propose a compromise – of sorts – so that I can continue living in my own home without fear of losing my virtue.”

She stopped then, hoping to gauge his reaction to her words, but Stewart’s face was a handsome mask. Seeing her pause, he raised a dark eyebrow as a signal for her to continue.

So he wasn’t going to make it easy, Sarah thought, feeling her temper rise. Willing herself to remain calm, she went on, painful though the effort was. “At this time, I have no special suitor. This fact, I know, causes my parents and my sister concern, though I have not given it much care. If you wish to court me – as a gentleman courts a lady
– I-I will try my best to give you a fair trial. I only ask that you do not abuse your liberty to act as a beau and that you make it clear to Juliana your intentions toward me. I would not wish to hurt her in any way.”

Casually, Stewart resettled himself in the chair, his hand tugging at his mouth to restrain a grin. “Go on,” he finally uttered.

“Sarah,youspokeearlierofacompromise. That means both of us must make concessions. You have not yet told me how you plan to concede. I have already told you what I wish from you, but so far you’ve made no mention of our physical needs.” His dark brown gaze on her was innocent and quizzical, yet his words stroked her as surely as a caress. “What of that?”

“B-but I told you,” Sarah replied urgently, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks. “As my suitor – if we find the situation a compatible one—I would not be opposed to some ...” she groped for the word, “affection. And if by some miracle, our relationship were to blossom, we would marry and you would have all you desire.”

“Ah hah,” Stewart responded and a deep rumbling chuckle escaped from his lips. “I see. So you expect to be wed to me before you discard your innocence?” Ignoring her nod, he continued, “Well, ‘Your Grace’,” he mocked, “you must surely think yourself some prize to try and extract a proposal of marriage from me just to bed you. I am truly sorry to disappoint you, but the idea of matrimony does not appeal to me. Especially,” he emphasized with a wave of his arm toward her, “to someone whose abilities to satisfy a mate for life are completely untested.

“No Sarah, it appears that you have not compromised in the least. I would think you’d be willing to strike a better bargain, when you have so much to gain.” Stewart ended calmly, a twinkle lighting up his dark eyes. He knew that he had lit the fuse.

Seething, Sarah sat straight up on the settee, her azure eyes blazing steel. “Sir, the audacity of your tongue far exceeds your crude behavior! I have nothing to gain by your pawing – and a great deal to lose!”

“But you said it yourself,” Stewart replied, leaning forward, muscular thighs. moment – and at your age that is considered dire. At least my attentions will give your family cause to hope that you can yet attract a husband before one will have to be found for you.”
his forearms resting on his “You have no suitors at the

But in truth, Stewart knew, she was far from desperate. Rarely had he met a young woman so beautiful or captivating. Her thick, chestnut hair hung in tumbling waves about her lovely, pure face. Eyes of the deepest blue were encircled by long black lashes and even though, at this moment, her face was contorted by her rage, a fine bone structure beneath the rosy hue of her flawless skin ensured that each expression was as appealing as the last. He remembered the delicious feel of her slim yet soft and pliant body next to his and he knew that if any other man had been able to get as close as he, she would certainly be claimed by now.

Even as he taunted her, Stewart knew he’d be willing to bide his time to have her, for she was surely a prize. But at the same time, it would never do to openly approve of her virginal games, for he certainly did not. He was -- and always had been
-a man of expedience. When he wanted something, he assessed its value and paid the fair price. Lady Sarah Tremont was certainly worth his patience, but she, nor any woman for that matter, was due his name. Bachelorhood suited his temperament and lifestyle, and there was nothing here that he could foresee capable of changing his mind.

His reverie was abruptly interrupted when Sarah suddenly leapt from the sofa, ignoring the pain it caused her to do so. Feet apart, her hands on her slender hips, she spit fury. “In my entire life, I have never been so insulted! Not only have you laid claim to my body – as if I were a trollop – you shamelessly offend me not once but twice today by suggesting that I have neither the propensities nor the means with which to attract a husband!”