Silver Storm (The Raveneau Novels #1) (41 page)

Devon stiffened. She could feel the pain of
separation even now; the long months alone at home with Mouette,
waiting and watching, while Raveneau tasted adventure and explored
new oceans and lands.

"Why do you draw away from me?" he whispered,
kissing her hair.

Devon pulled free and reached for her
chemise, yanking it over her head. "I am cold. We must be getting
back. Mouette—"

"Devon, look at me." When she resisted, he
gripped her small chin and turned it angrily. "Faithless tears! I
never want to see them again. Do you think so little of me? Do you
imagine I could ever leave you behind? I need you,
petite
chatte,
and I need our daughter as well. You have already
proved to me your seaworthiness. In fact, you have been a true
asset to my crew. If you will say yes, I would be honored to count
you as one of my officers from this day forward."

She wept and laughed at the same time, while
Raveneau dressed. She was still fumbling happily with her own
fastenings when he pulled on his boots and stood up.

"Silly chit," he admonished. "Never doubt me
again."

With deft expertise, he hooked her gown and
watched as she put on her silk slippers. Devon beamed when Raveneau
smoothed back her flame-gold curls, purposely neglecting to remove
the crumpled leaf that peeked from one side.

"Our daughter awaits," he said sternly, but
his lips twitched in a loving smile. Devon stood on tiptoe to kiss
her husband, then took his arm and lifted her rumpled skirts as
they walked off through the twilight toward New London.

The End

***~~~***

Excerpt from

Surrender the Stars

The Author's Cut Edition

Raveneau Novel #2

by

Cynthia Wright

***~~~***

It's the spring of 1814 and the War of 1812
is in progress. Andre and Devon Raveneau live on the coast of
Connecticut with their bluestocking daughter, Lindsay. Andre still
owns ships, one of which is captained by Ryan Coleraine, a rakish
Irishman. The book's prologue finds the elder Raveneaus in
Philadelphia, meeting with old friends who want to persuade the
Raveneau family to go to Regency England on a mission for the
president, with Coleraine taking the place of their son Nathan who
is in the West Indies. Part One opens in Connecticut, where Ryan
Coleraine's ship, the Chimera, has just docked.

***~~~***

Descending the Chimera's gangplank, Ryan
Coleraine set foot on American soil for the first time in one
hundred days and smiled. Behind him, the privateer he commanded
swayed at anchor alongside other proud ships lining the Point.
Painted pale yellow, with a blue stripe between the wales, the
sleek brigantine basked in the spring sunlight as sailors scurried
over her decks and up the ratlines, unloading cargo and securing
the lines.

"Are you off to the Griswold Inn for a drink,
Captain?" inquired Drew, the Chimera's first mate, as he set a
crate of rum on the wharf.

Coleraine gazed distractedly out over the
glittering Connecticut River. "Not just yet. I have to report to
Captain Raveneau first on the success of our voyage." He gave the
young man a smile then. "When you and the others are finished here,
come along to the Gris and I'll buy you all a round."

"Thank you, sir! I can taste it already!"

Ryan's progress up Main Street was slow as
various residents of Pettipauge stopped to welcome him home. The
greeting jarred a bit, for Coleraine was there so little that he'd
never felt that this was his home. He was more at ease on board the
Chimera
, surrounded by a sweep of ocean, than here on this
street lined with clean white houses and shops, budding oaks and
rows of sunny daffodils.

Young women turned to stare as the privateer
captain passed by, but he was too preoccupied to notice. At
thirty-one, Ryan Coleraine was shockingly attractive. Tall, lean,
and strong, he was blessed with shining, crisp black hair that
curled against the back of his neck, brilliant blue eyes, chiseled
features that were somehow accentuated by his closely trimmed
beard, and a devastating smile. Today he wore a white shirt, a
simple, snowy cravat, a blue-gray waistcoat with a thin charcoal
stripe, gray breeches that skimmed his long, hard thighs, and black
knee boots. In his left hand, he casually held a midnight-blue
coat.

Approaching the Raveneau house, he considered
what he wished to say to the man who had been his mentor since his
arrival in Pettipauge nine years ago. Ryan had worked long and
hard, earning Raveneau's trust and saving his money. Now he was
ready to strike out on his own. He wanted to buy the
Chimera,
which he had designed and christened himself. How
would Raveneau react?

The large Georgian house owned by the
Raveneau family had been built on the right side of Main Street
within sight of the ship-lined Point. Painted a warm, light yellow,
in contrast to its white neighbors, the home seemed to exude
contentment. Square boxwood hedges marked the boundaries of the
corner yard, while budding elms arched before beds of jewel like
crocus and narcissus. Ryan thought that the house's windows made
the inviting picture complete: green shutters framed open sashes
and clean, fluttering curtains. It was hard for him to believe that
when Raveneau was Coleraine's age, he, too, had called the sea his
home and had been a confirmed rogue and womanizer.

Able Barker, the family's tall, rawboned
butler, answered Ryan's knock at the door and informed him that the
Raveneaus were away in Philadelphia and that he wasn't certain when
they'd return. Then, seeing the younger man's disappointment, he
added, "I'll wager that Miss Lindsay would know. Why don't you stop
by the schoolhouse and ask her?"

"Miss Lindsay?"

"Captain Raveneau's daughter. She's been
schoolmistress since Ethan Painter went off to war. Doing a fine
job of it, too. The schoolhouse is up on Pound Hill. Think you can
find it?"

"I'll manage. Thank you, Able."

"Captain, how did you fare at sea?"

Coleraine's grin flashed white. "I'd say we
did rather well. We took eleven prizes and our hold is well packed
with rum, sugar, brandy, wine, dry goods, iron, fish, and fruit.
Best of all, we lost not one man."

"Congratulations, sir! Just the sort of news
Pettipauge needs to hear."

Back on Main Street, Ryan searched his
memory. He couldn't recall ever meeting this mysterious daughter,
but then he usually saw Andre Raveneau in the latter's office on
the Point. Ryan vaguely remembered hearing that the attractive,
adventurous Raveneaus had somehow produced a serious, bookish
daughter, but he'd laughed at the time, dismissing the idea.

The handsome, three-story, green-shuttered
Griswold Inn loomed up to his right, its open doors beckoning him
to enter. Ryan longed to relax inside with his friends, to prop his
booted feet on a scarred table and drink a tankard of ale, but
first he had to pay a tiresome visit to Pettipauge's
schoolhouse.

* * *

"I wish you would let me finish this
tonight," complained Betsy Urquhart. She sat alone, surrounded by
empty desks, and gazed mournfully at the figure sorting papers at
the front of the schoolroom.

"If you had written your theme last night, as
instructed, you wouldn't be here now," her teacher replied without
looking up.

"King Lear
is so tedious." She pouted.
"Besides, I thought you were my friend, Lindsay!"

"When we are in this room, I am your teacher
and you must address me accordingly. Now, finish your theme so that
we may both go home!"

Betsy wrote laboriously for several minutes,
then said, "One would never guess that you are just two years older
than I am—or that you come from such an adventurous family. I don't
understand how you can be so dull—"

"I am not dull!" Lindsay answered sharply.
"Simply because my relatives are afflicted with wanderlust, that
does not make me dull. I choose to remain on land and pursue more
serious endeavors. I enjoy teaching. Imparting knowledge to others
is a great source of satisfaction to me."

"Do you never long for even a bit of
adventure?" Betsy eyed her speculatively. "Or... romance? Mary
Pratt told me that the
Chimera
is supposed to dock today.
She's practically the only ship that has been able to elude that
blockade of the sound, but considering her captain, it's no
surprise." She paused to sigh dreamily. "I was planning to walk to
the Point after school in hopes of seeing him. Surely even
you
must grow weak at the thought of Ryan Coleraine! I've
never seen a handsomer man...."

"Don't be absurd. In the first place, the
Chimera
is not the first privateer to achieve such feats. My
father was just as successful during the Revolutionary War, and, as
you know, Papa had the
Chimera
built, so your precious Ryan
Coleraine is in his employ!"

Betsy tossed her curls impatiently. "You
haven't answered my question! Don't you find Captain Coleraine
attractive?"

"We've never met, but from what I've seen,
the answer is no." Lindsay shuffled her papers nervously. "His
looks don't appeal to me. I prefer fair men. Aside from that,
Captain Coleraine's character is, in my opinion, repugnant."

"Repugnant?" Betsy was unfamiliar with the
word but sensed its meaning. "How can you say such a thing?"

"He's an uneducated, cocky, ill-mannered
rogue," Lindsay stated with finality. "Take my advice and stay away
from men of his ilk. They lack scruples and take pleasure in
ruining the reputations of gullible females like you."

From the doorway, a male voice spoke. "Am I
to infer that you don't approve of me, Miss Raveneau?"

Startled, Lindsay spun around to find Ryan
Coleraine leaning against the door frame, one eyebrow arched. A
smile of cynical amusement played over his mouth.

"I—I—" she stammered. Hearing Betsy's muffled
giggle, she looked in her direction. "You may go now,
Elizabeth."

"But what about my theme? I'm not finished
yet!"

"You may finish it tonight."

As the teacher and pupil continued to argue,
Coleraine's dark blue eyes wandered over Lindsay Raveneau. He was
surprised to discover that she was beautiful, perhaps even more
beautiful than her mother. She was about twenty and taller than
Devon Raveneau. Even though Lindsay wore a demure, cream-colored
chemise frock and a cashmere shawl, Ryan's practiced eyes detected
a lithe, long-legged body with a narrow waist and high, perfect
breasts. Her hair was the same amazing rosy-gold shade as her
mother's, and she wore it in a fashionable Grecian knot high atop
her head, with a profusion of soft curls escaping to frame her
lovely, intelligent countenance.

"Good-bye, Captain Coleraine," Betsy said as
she passed him in the doorway.

Ryan looked at Lindsay. "Dare I enter? I can
assure you that I have come not to ruin your reputation but to
inquire after your father."

"Please, come in. I apologize for the things
you heard me say about you, but you should have made your presence
known instead of eavesdropping."

He approached her desk, thinking that he had
never met a young lady with so cool and confident a gaze. Lindsay's
eyes were striking: thick-lashed and the color of smoke. Her
complexion was creamy, with smudges of pink accentuating her
cheekbones, and below a delicate nose reposed a mouth with a
frankly sensual lower lip. Perhaps there was hope for this
bluestocking after all, he thought as his eyes lingered there, then
rose to meet her questioning gaze.

"My father is in Philadelphia, Captain
Coleraine."

"So I heard. It's a pleasure to meet you at
last, Miss Raveneau." Ryan extended a strong hand and gently
clasped hers. "I'm sorry that you're unable to say the same."

Sensing his amusement, Lindsay strove to
retain her composure. What a humiliating situation this was! "It's
been a long day, Captain Coleraine, and I may have spoken rashly.
Again, I beg your pardon. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to
finish my work here. How can I help you?"

"I am anxious to see your father. Able Barker
thought that you might know when he's returning to Pettipauge."

"Within the week. I'm sorry that I can't give
you an exact date."

Coleraine shrugged, frustration further
darkening his mood. "Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to wait.
I appreciate your speaking to me, Miss Raveneau. I know it can't
have been easy." He gave her a cool smile and turned toward the
schoolhouse doorway. "Good afternoon."

When his hand touched the latch, Lindsay
called, "Wait! There's something I've always wanted to know. Will
you tell me how you chose the
Chimera's
name? I was
surprised when Papa told me that you had christened her."

He glanced back over one broad shoulder. "I
liked the image of a she-monster with a serpent's tail, a goat's
body, and a lion's head spitting flames. I think of my ship like
the chimera from Greek mythology: a magical creature with the
ability to overcome all obstacles."

Lindsay lifted her chin slightly. "I wouldn't
have expected you to be a student of Greek mythology, Captain."

He laughed shortly. "Believe it or not, Miss
Raveneau, I don't spend
every
spare moment seducing
unsuspecting young females!"

The door closed behind him and Lindsay found
herself alone in the schoolroom, muttering rude rejoinders that she
was certain she'd never have an opportunity to employ.

* * *

Misty clouds veiled the luminous, perfect
crescent moon that hung suspended in a black sky. Lindsay knew that
midnight had passed, yet she continued to sit at her window, gazing
down at Main Street. At one end, ships, including the imposing
Chimera,
swayed at anchor along the Point, while at the
other end, Main Street was bordered with clean white houses that
shaded upward into Pound Hill.