Petals on the River (57 page)

who recognized them.
 
A small group of British soldiers who approached

from the opposite direction eyed Shemaine with close attention, but they

remembered her companion only too well as the one who had booted the

huge tar into the road.
 
They had deemed the oafish sailor much in need

of a harsh comeuppance for hurting the girl, and out of respect for the

man, they politely curtailed their admiration for his companion to

nothing more than a casual glance or two.

Potts had been leaning against a post in front of the tavern, but when

he saw Gage and Shemaine, he muttered something over his shoulder,

bringing Morrisa promptly through the doors of the establishment. After

a jeering perusal of Shemaine and a more admiring one for the tall man

who strolled beside her, the harlot spoke to the swabber and jerked her

head in their direction.
 
As if bidden, Potts came sauntering

purposefully across the street toward them.

The last thing Gage wanted right then and there was a fight, but it

seemed unlikely that Potts would allow him to escape without some kind

of fray, no matter how much Gage was loath to see his first evening out

with Shemaine destroyed.
 
He just hoped he'd still be on his feet when

the conflict ended.

''I think he intends to box your ears," Shemaine murmured fearfully,

casting a furtive glance toward her hulking adversary.

The four soldiers, who had been walking toward Gage, espied Morrisa.

After a brief discussion, they veered from their course, making their

way across the street toward her.
 
As they neared Potts, one of them

recognized him.

"Why, it's the mudsucker!
 
Blimey, if it isn't!"

His companions had also witnessed the swabber's difficulty in leaving

the muck after being booted into it and were just as eager to have a

little fun with the callous ox.

One of the soldiers wrinkled his nose in feigned repugnance.
 
"Eh,

what's that awful stench?"

"Manure!" a fellow soldier roared in rampant hilarity. "Mudsucker aren't

partial ta baths, don't ye know!"

"He must relish the stuff," another commented, " cause he sure ate

enough o' it!"

Their bantering had brought the red-faced sailor to an abrupt halt in

the middle of the street, and there Potts stood with massive hands

clenched into white-knuckled fists as he seethed with violent rage. His

pig eyes blazed at the four, two of whom nearly dwarfed him. "Cares ta

see which o' ye buffoons can say that right up close ta me face?"

The soldiers grinned and glanced at each other.
 
After briefly

considering the tar's invitation, they allowed the smallest one to

answer for them.
 
"Aye, we'll meet ye round back o' the tavern where our

cap'n won't see us."

The threatening altercation allowed Gage and Shemaine to pass virtually

unnoticedþexcept for Morrisa, who glared after them. Unconcerned with

how the harlot snarled and stewed, they continued on down the

thoroughfare.

The meeting hall was the place where all public functions were held, for

it was the largest building in the hamlet.
 
Gage had said nearly

everyone would be there, and Shemaine could almost guess that that was

exactly the case as she recognized several amiable faces and many others

who were not as pleasant.
 
The Tates hadn't been able to come since

Calley was still confined to her bed, but Gage's two apprentices and the

shipwright, Gillian, were there.
 
Sly Tucker and his wife arrived

shortly after his employer, about the same time that Mary Margaret

hastened across the hall with the aid of her cane.
 
Other friends smiled

=11_ and waved or called out a greeting.
 
But Alma Pettycomb and her

following gawked and hurriedly whispered to each other behind their fans

as they rudely eyed the gown Shemaine was wearing.
 
Roxanne sat at a

table near the entrance, having been enlisted to take an accounting of

those who entered and to charge the appropriate fee.
 
Upon seeing Gage

and his companion, she began to sulk in darkly brooding vexation.

Mary Margaret took Shemaine's hand and patted it affectionately as she

warbled, "Oh, don't ye take the prize for beauty." The Irishwoman cast a

sparkling glance toward Gage and grinned.
 
"I'm also delighted ta see

his handsome self lookin' so fetchin' in gentleman's attire."

Gillian was right behind her, asking Gage's permission to dance with

Shemaine.
 
"If'n ye don't mind, Cap'n."

Gage chafed at the idea that he wouldn't be the first to dance with

Shemaine, but he gave her over to the younger man and watched with close

attention as they faced each other in a contredanse.

"Well, Gage, I never expected to see you here," Roxanne commented from

the table.
 
"I can only say you've shown your usual nerve."

After hanging his tricorn near the entrance, Gage approached her and

counted out the toll.
 
"Two for the meal and the dancing."

Roxanne took exception to his simple declaration and accepted his coins

snippishly.
 
"I can count, Gage!
 
And I'm not blind!
 
I can see you've

brought your slave with you.
 
But tell me this, if you would. If you

bought her to take care of Andrew and to teach him, why is she here with

you?"

"I asked her," Gage replied laconically.

"Why?
 
Were you afraid some other woman would turn down your invitation

if you asked her?" By supposing upon his reticence on that account,

Roxanne sought to assuage the hurt gnawing at her heart by convincing

herself that he hadn't asked her solely because he had assumed she'd

reject him outright.
 
After her threats, was it not reasonable to

imagine that he'd be aloof with her?

Gage felt a need to be plainspoken with the woman.
 
She had imagined far

too much as it was.
 
"I didn't care to bring anyone but Shemaine."

Roxanne's gray eyes flared with fiery indignation at his frankness.
 
No

matter how many times she had told herself that Gage just had to feel

some tiny bit of tenderness toward her, her searching heart was always

rebuffed.
 
Perhaps the time had come for her to stop lying to herself

and to cease making excuses for his cool reserve. "I'm sure .
 
, I Mrs.

Pettycomb will delight herself by spreading tales of your latest

effrontery about the village.
 
Gage Thornton bringing his bondslave to

an event intended for freemen.
 
That should perk up everybody's ears."

"I have no doubt it will." With a tense smile, Gage turned and strolled

back to Mrs.
 
McGee.

The widow grinned as she folded her slender hands upon the head of her

cane.
 
'I see, fine sir, that ye've come ta enliven me drab life with

yer winsome face an' yer devilish ways."

"I'm glad to be of service, madam," Gage said debonairly, clicking his

leather heels and tilting his head in a clipped, precise nod that

sufficed as a bow.

The elder briefly marked Roxanne with a glance as the younger woman

accepted the required fee from several newcomers.
 
"I also saw the

torment o' wantin' ye in the eyes o' that poor soul ye just left."

Gage sighed pensively.
 
"I can't live my life trying to avoid Roxanne,

Mary Margaret."

"Nay, nor do I expect ye ta do anythin' less than what you're doin' now.

Ye've as much right ta be here as Roxanne."

Gage made no reply as his gaze found Shemaine.
 
She was being escorted

through the steps of the contredanse by the younger man and seemed in a

vivacious mood, having lost her fear of attending.
 
He saw several

bachelors closely perusing her, but he intended to be at her side well

before any of them could interfere.

"Yer mind is fixed on yer bondslave," Mary Margaret ventured with a

smile.

The brown eyes twinkled with amusement as Gage flicked a glance askance

at the widow.
 
"Aye, I'm impatiently awaiting my turn.
 
Is that what you

want to hear, old woman?"

She nodded pertly, noticing a welcomed change in the man.
 
While Roxanne

worked for him, he had seemed tense, but he now appeared at ease and

happy.
 
"Aye, that will do for starters."

When the dance ended, Shemaine saw Gage moving through the crowd toward

her.
 
Their gazes melded in warm communication, and when he took her

hand and led her into the reel, she could not subdue the nervous

fluttering in her breast no matter how many times she silently reminded

herself that he was just a man.

Stepping back into a line of women facing men, Shemaine sank into a deep

curtsy before him, and he, in turn, bowed before her.
 
The other couples

moved out as their time came and sashayed down the line while the rest

of them clapped.
 
Then it was their turn.
 
Of a sudden, it was as if her

fantasy had become reality, for her handsome escort iL seemed to have

eyes for no one else but her as he swept her toward the far end.

"People are staring at us," Shemaine whispered as they moved together.

Indeed, there were many who had stepped to the sidelines to openly view

them, including Roxanne, who had left her reception duties long enough

to do so.

"They have good cause," Gage breathed, leaning near his bondslave.

"You're the comeliest maid here."

"They're observing both of us," Shemaine corrected in passing. "Do you

suppose they're expecting us to do something outrageous?"

"Perhaps we should," Gage suggested, curbing a grin.
 
Briefly

considering several possibilities, he nodded after coming to a decision.

"A kiss might suffice."

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't!" Shemaine hissed in a whisper.

A chuckle accompanied the sudden roguish gleam in his eye. "Wouldn't I?"