Petals on the River (90 page)

rid himself of his stock and shirt before returning to loosen his wife's

laces.
 
"Mary Margaret will likely be upstairs for a while, talking with

my father.
 
With her delay in going to bed, perhaps we may dally in ours

for a while just to see what arises."

"And would you be doubting such an event, Mr.
 
Thornton?" Shemaine asked

through the cloth of her gown as her husband lifted it over her head and

swept it free from her uplifted arms.

"Not when the woman I'm dallying with is you, my love," he assured her

with a chuckle, stepping away to lay the garment over the trunk.

When he turned back to admire the vision of her garbed in nothing more

than a lacy chemise, she threaded her slender fingers through her hair

and lifted the curling tresses high above her head.
 
As if reluctant to

come too close, she moved cautiously in a half circle around him,

commanding his full attention with a sweetly wicked smile and glowing

green eyes.
 
"Were I a sorceress, Mr.
 
Thornton, I would keep you a

prisoner in my den, where you would serve my pleasures both night and

day.
 
You would languish from my incessant demands until you had not

strength enough to rouse from your couch, and then I would summon forth

strange magic to make you pant in lust for me once more."

A lopsided grin widened her husband's lips as he taunted her with a

devouring perusal.
 
"I do that now, madam." Catching an arm around her

waist, he drew her between the spread of his legs as he sat back upon

the bed.
 
His fingers plucked at the ribbons closing the bodice of her

chemise and then moved the slackening cloth aside until the swelling

roundness was brazenly displayed.
 
The lustrous orbs thrust outward

eagerly, tempting him to taste and devour as they gleamed warmly in the

candlelight.
 
He readily complied, evoking a wondrous enchantment as his

mouth feasted greedily upon the voluptuous softness.

Shemaine's voice came in a whisper as she lowered her lips to his dark

head.
 
" Tis only when the handsome prince of my dreams becomes real in

my arms that this sorceress yields up all of her devices and

incantations and follows submissively wherever he leads.
 
And then

nothing can keep me from him."

Gage lifted his head and searched her smiling eyes.
 
"Nothing, my love?"

"Absolutely nothing, my darling." Her lips parted as they approached

his, and if any doubt remained, she snuffed it out with a long,

lingering kiss.

Chapter 21.

Gage had hurried across the porch shortly after the O'Hearns' hired

livery pulled to a halt near the cabin the next morning.
 
His guests

were much earlier than he had expected, for he had been told by Ramsey

that the Marquess and the O'Hearns had just begun to stir when he left

for work.
 
Gage begged their indulgence for a few moments more while he

and Shemaine completed several chores which they were in the midst of.

At present, he was helping his father bathe, and while the elder was

occupied downstairs, Shemaine had set about cleaning his room and

changing his bed linens so she wouldn't have to disturb him later.

Although the visitors seemed apprehensive about the kind of reception

they were receiving, Gage politely assured them that it would only be a

few moments before he and his wife could join them.
 
Until then, if they

didn't mind, Ramsey would see to their needs.

In the absence of his employer, Ramsey took it upon himself to show them

around the cabinet shop as Sly Tucker and the two apprentices worked at

their separate tasks.
 
With a great deal of pride and satisfaction,

Ramsey skimmed over the painstaking process of making quality furniture,

beginning his discourse by exhibiting his employer's drawings and

designs, which readily evinced Gage's incredible talent with quill and

ink.
 
Ramsey went on to show them the difference in the grains of wood

they used.
 
Whether it was cypress, cherry, maple, oak, or some other,

the unusual characteristics of each could make a piece of furniture

unique.
 
Upon concluding his talk, Ramsey led them back to where Sly

Tucker was polishing a recently finished sideboard and eagerly urged the

O'Hearns, their servants, and the Marquess to run their hands over the

top of the piece to feel the smoothness of the hand-rubbed finish.

Camille seemed most enthralled by the merits of the buffet, for it was

she who, during the length of her marriage, had selected the furnishings

for their homes, a task which Shemus had willingly left to her

discretion.
 
He had realized long ago that his wife had a natural

ability for turning the simplest dwelling into a comfortable, tastefully

appointed haven, and he had never been one to intrude and possibly

hinder perfection in the making.
 
Over the years, Camille had acquired a

keen eye for recognizing a worthy piece when she saw one, and though the

lines of the sideboard were fairly simple, the tiger's-eye grains and

hurled woods from which it had been constructed made it distinctive and

beautiful.
 
Stressing the fact that it was among the finest she had ever

seen, Camille implored her husband to examine it more closely, wanting

him to understand the skill and dedication required to produce such an

outstanding piece.

Outwardly Ramsey seemed inattentive to the couple's muted discussion,

but his ears were closely attuned to their exchange.
 
While helping Sly

for a moment, he also had a chance to study Maurice, albeit

surreptitiously.
 
His lordship remained coolly indifferent to Camille's

enthusiasm as he glanced casually about the shop.
 
His reserved dignity

seemed imperturbable, and when the tour continued, Ramsey tested the

precise depth of that unflappable mien by purposely rubbing a bit of

salt in the Marquess's wounds.

"Ain't no doubt bout it.
 
Mr.
 
Thornton gots ta be the most skillful

woodwright in this here area.
 
Why, he not only draws up pieces like

this here furniture from his imagination"þRamsey emphasized his point by

tapping a finger against his own templeþ"he's prosperous enough ta

support several families, to boot.
 
He's a fair man with his wages, he

is, an' none o' us would be as well off today workin' for nother

carpenter."

After motioning them to the windowj he hurriedly wiped away some of the

sawdust until they could view the unfinished brigantine that rested in

bracing stocks near the river's edge.
 
"Ye see that?" He glanced around

to assure himself that he had gained their undivided attentiOn and

briefly noted the stoic detachment that his lordship still conveyed. Mr.

Thornton dreamed at there vessel up in his noggin, too.
 
If'n tweren't

for his love o' designin' ships an' buildin' em, he'd likely be the

richest man in these here parts by now, just by what he earns makin'

furniture.
 
But ye wait, give or take a year or two more maybe even

three, he'll be provin' his worth as a master shipbuilder an' then

people'll be takin' careful notice!"

Maurice allowed a pensive sigh to escape his lips as he turned away from

the window.
 
He had little tolerance for praise that was liberally

heaped upon an unprincipled knave.
 
If it were left up to him, he'd call

Gage Thornton out right then and there and rid the world of a worthless

scoundrel.

Ramsey flicked a glance toward the tall, well-garbed man.
 
The brooding

hostility now roiling perceptibly behind those noble features evidenced

his success in baiting his lordship.
 
He now deemed a tour of the

brigantine to be in order to set the barb more firmly, just to let the

Marquess hnow that it was no common man he had defamed the night before.

Bidding them to accompany him, Ramsey led the small entourage down the

path to the riverside edifice and introduced them to Flannery Morgan.

There he allowed the grizzled shipwright the honor of explaining the

merits of Gage's design, for none could do it with more enthusiasm.

"When she's finished, this here'll be what ye'd call a two-masted

brig'ntine," the old man informed them.
 
"She's low in the hull an'

sleek in lines.
 
If'n ye be acquainted with ships at all, m'lords an'

ladies, ye'll see that in this vessel, the beam is well nigh the bow.

Twill give her good stability in the water, all right, but I'll warrant

her best feature'll be her speed.
 
Why, she'll slim through the sea like

a mermaid loohn' for a mate ta sport with."

Camille pinkened lightly at his comparison, but the old salt failed to

notice her unease as he encouraged them to follow him down the

companionway.
 
Gesturing here and there to draw their attention to

several points of interest in the worEmanship, he showed them around the

lower levels, all the while extolling his employer's extraordinary

vision and talents.
 
At last, he brought them up to the main deck again.

Leaving the others behind, Shemus O'Hearn went to the far end of the

ship and looked back upon it, wanting to consider everything he had been

shown.
 
He had taken in the comments with an attentive ear, trying to

glean some insight into the individual, Gage Thornton.
 
What he had been

most surprised about were the employees.
 
Shemus had hired many men in

his lifetime, but he was not at all sure any of them had ever been as

dedicated or had taken as much pleasure in their work and

accomplishments as Ramsey, Sly Tucker, Flannery and the others seemed

to.
 
In the face of their loyalty and enthusiasm, he had to wonder how a

rogue could have inspired such qualities.

rq .

.

Shemus Patrick O'Hearn had made his own way in life, starting with

little and working his way up to much.
 
It was not at all surprising

that he began to feel a grudging respect for the colonial as he became

cognizant of the many achievements and diligent ambitions of the man who

had married his daughter.
 
When he recalled his own beginnings and the

misgivings that Camille's parents had once expressed about the Irish