To Love a Scoundrel (29 page)

Her eyes still squeezed shut, the lashes fringed with tears in spite of her efforts to control them, Jewel allowed him to hold her. It would be all right, she told herself. It might even serve her purposes by eliciting from him the sympathy and support she would need as she pursued her goals. All she needed to do, Jewel vowed as another sob nearly tore her throat apart, was find a way to ignore the surprising strength in his wiry arms, and disregard his clumsy attempts at comfort as his kind hands patted her back. Then Jewel gave up her struggles, convincing herself that this, too, would add to Harry's sense of obligation. She released the floodgates and permitted the entire reservoir of tears to drench Harry's cashmere dinner jacket.

Alarmed and increasingly disconcerted, Harry sputtered, "My dear, I—I told you I would do all that I can to make it up to you. Please see if you can't find a way to collect yourself. My dear little—it's Jewel, isn't it?"

His final words gave her the courage she needed to swallow the last of her tears. Harry Benton, her long-lost father, wasn't even sure of her name. He didn't deserve the time of day from her, much less an honest tear. She drew in a painful breath and straightened her shoulders. Then, without requesting permission or glancing up at him, Jewel plucked the monogrammed hanky from his pocket and wiped her nose.

"Sorry," she said quietly as she stepped away from him. "I don't usually indulge in such displays."

"It's certainly understandable. After all, you have known about me much longer than I've known about you. I would assume this moment has been on your mind for some time.''

Finally ready to look him in the eye, she gave him a cool stare. "Around twenty years."

"Yes, well, you certainly have the advantage on me," he muttered, still uncertain as to how he should proceed. "How is your dear mother? Well, I hope."

Her voice as flat and cold as a river stone, Jewel closed her heart and cut off her emotions before she could say, "She's dead."

"Oh?" Harry gasped. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I do hope she wasn't taken from you at too impressionable an age."

"I was away at Vassar when she died."

"College?" Harry said, his eyes bright with surprise. "You've had the benefit of a college education?"

Jewel balled the hanky into her fist and shrugged. "Grandfather Flannery was happy to pay for my education. Anything to get me out of the house and out of his sight."

Again Harry reached for her, but she flinched and backed away. Taking her cue, he lowered his arms and said, "I'm sorry for his lack of consideration, but he did give you an excellent opportunity, even if his reasons were suspect. Why didn't you take advantage of it?"

Too mired in her own pain and tangled thoughts to grasp his meaning, she stared at him quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

"Your education, my dear. You should have extracted as much as possible from it. Then you wouldn't have to pretend to be something you're not." He gestured toward her Gypsy costume.

"Oh, this costume? I only pretended to be a fortune-teller so I could catch up with you."

"Catch me? I'm afraid, my dear, that I don't quite understand."

Sensing his panic, she stepped forward and forced herself to pat his hand. "I've been looking for you for a long time, remember? When I heard you were back in the States, I decided to go where you might go and be what you might be looking for." Again she shrugged. "It worked."

His laugh nervous, his equilibrium still out of whack, Harry raised one thin black eyebrow. "And now that you've found me, just what do you expect from me, my dear?''

"That's easy.'' She led him into the center of her web. "I want you to supply the rest of my education."

"Money?" he sniffed. "You want me to pay you off, is that it?"

"No, Father dear," she said. "I simply want you to finish my training. I want to learn the family business."

Harry's thin brows formed a single narrow ebony line. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," she said, glancing around to make certain they were still alone. "I studied dramatics in college and I am quite good at acting when the need arises. I've also inherited the Benton cunning. The only thing I need to carry on the family name in an admirable fashion is for you to teach me the nuances of the business. That is the only thing I want from you."

"You're out of line, young lady," Harry snapped, not willing to give up his secret life so easily. "It seems I have no choice but to admit my paternity—you have far too strong a case for me to do otherwise—but I will not stand here and listen to any more of this 'family business' nonsense."

Jewel made another quick survey of their surroundings. Then she moved in closer to Harry and whispered, "I know your business almost as well as you do. I have made it my life's work, to the extent that I have become friendly with several representatives of the law." She paused, giving him time to absorb that disturbing piece of news, then went on. "I have inside information about many of your jobs, from my grandfather's bank to some of your more recent conquests. One Countess DeMorney comes to mind, as does—"

Harry gasped, and his gaze darted from side to side. "Who told you about her?" he demanded.

"That really doesn't matter," Jewel said, knowing she'd finally gotten his attention. "What does matter is this—for every neglected highfalutin lady you strip of her jewels, there's at least one dear old man just waiting to lavish gifts on a sweet young thing like me. Think of it, Daddy. Imagine what a great team we could make."

Harry stuck a finger between his Adam's apple and the starched collar of his shirt and loosened the material. "My dear, this is simply preposterous. I could no more teach you the business than I could fly. It simply isn't a viable idea. Please forget about it."

"Never," she said. "I intend to pattern my life after yours, with or without your help. I also intend to make sure the men I
borrow
from are aware they have been fleeced by the daughter of the famous Handsome Harry Benton. As I see it," she said, issuing her ultimatum, "there's only one question to be answered here. Doesn't it matter to you how well I carry on your name?"

Harry smoothed his mustache nervously as he stared at Jewel, measuring her, weighing his chances of calling her bluff. "May I have some time to think this over?'' he said at last."You have given me a lot to ponder."

"How long?" she said, a suspicious brow cocked.

"Just time enough for a brandy and some deep thought. One hour."

Her auburn brow still cocked, she said, "Long enough to jump ship, perhaps? If you do, I'll hunt you down like a dog. You know that I can and will do that, don't you?"

Harry sighed and lifted his chin. "If you've made such a thorough study of my activities, you must know that I would never jump ship."

"Hmmm, maybe not," she mused. "But as far as I know, today is the first time anyone claiming to be your child has come forward. No telling what you'll do in response to that."

"The idea of fatherhood was once repugnant to me, but now that is a fact, I do not intend to turn my back on you. Now, if you please, may I have some time to digest these rather startling revelations?"

Jewel hesitated for a long moment, staring into his smoky green eyes, then took a deep breath. "All right. I suppose I can grant you that much, but I warn you—"

"I know," he said with a chuckle, "you'll hunt me down like a dog."

"Like the shrewdest of bloodhounds," she agreed.

Bending slightly at the waist, Harry said, "In one hour, then. Where shall I find you?"

"I'll wait for you in my cabin. It's with the other employees' staterooms on the main deck. Don't look for any fancy oil paintings on the door. Mine is plain old room number three."

Harry nodded. "Till then."

"Till then," she echoed, watching as he spun on his heel and disappeared into the saloon. Once he was out of sight, Jewel made her way along the railing toward the stern.

There she stood watch over the giant paddle wheels, listening as the steady flap, flap, flap of the wooden slats pounded along with her heartbeat, flinching as the steam vents hissed like a giant dragon. Were they chastising her for treating her father less than honorably? Or were they cheering her victory over the master of deceit?

Brent suddenly loomed up from behind, "Are congratulations in order? Do you have a new father yet?"

Jewel spun around, clutching her breast. "Couldn't you have found a less startling way to announce yourself?"

"Sorry. How'd things go? Do you have a new father?"

"I do."

"No kidding." Hugely impressed, Brent propped his elbow on the railing and smiled at her. "So are you Jewel Poindexter now, or do you get a whole new name?''

"I really don't know. We haven't gotten that far. Harry's still trying to get over the fact that he has a daughter. He's going to think about that for a while, then come to my cabin and let me know if he'll teach me his trade."

Brent raised a skeptical brow. "Do you think he'll actually show up, or will he use the time to get away?"

"He'll show up."

Brent laughed and pushed away from the railing. "There really is honor among thieves, is that it?"

Jewel scowled as she marched past him. "I'm going to wait in my cabin. I have better things to do than listen to your drunken rambling."

Brent gripped her elbow. "I'm not drunk and I'm not rambling. We're partners, remember? I was just inquiring about your progress. No need to get your back up."

Jewel inhaled the sultry air and finally acknowledged her inner turmoil. The meeting with Harry had been no less startling and distressing for her than for him. She looked up at Brent and smiled. "Sorry. I told you I'd keep you apprised of the situation, and I will. I guess I didn't realize how upset I would get. It isn't every day I announce to some poor fellow that he has a grown child who's come to haunt him."

Seeing an opening in her armor, some glimpse of the sensitive woman beneath, Brent cupped her face in his hands. "I saw you talking to him. I realize you're one hell of an actress, but it didn't look to me like you were having much fun playing the doting daughter role."

Tears burned in her eyes, returning twice as potent as before. In danger of revealing too much about herself, Jewel nestled against his chest. "Please don't say anything else," she implored him. "Just hold me, Brent. Please hold me."

"I'd be delighted to," he said softly. "You know I always try to oblige a lady."

Brent wrapped her in his strong arms, rocking her gently in rhythm with the
Dawn's
rolling motion, humming no particular tune against her hair as he massaged her exposed shoulders. He wondered if this was the time to broach the subject of a visit to Sumner Hall. Would she be open to such an invitation or would she get defensive? He could feel her melting beneath his touch, the tense muscles in her shoulders softening as she relaxed. I could hold Jewel Flannery in my arms like this for the rest of my life, he suddenly realized. Was that why it was so important for him to take her on down home? If she agreed to visit Sumner Hall with him, what would her reaction be when she arrived? Would she finally understand how much he'd come to care for her—to love her?

Brent's mother would know the minute they stepped into the grand foyer. Miriam Connors would see the love in her son's eyes. She would spot the crackle of fire and the flashes of lightning between him and Jewel the second she observed them in the same room. Would she make some comment about their obvious fascination with each other and scare his green-eyed lady off before he got a chance to tell Jewel how he felt?

She pulled away from him then and looked up into his eyes. Her expression was grateful, almost loving. Brent knew then that he would have to take the chance. "Better now?"

She nodded, still too choked up to speak.

"Listen, Pinky," he began, that awkward schoolboy tone creeping into his voice. "The
Dawn
pulls into her home port of Greenville, Mississippi, day after tomorrow. That's also my home port. I was wondering if you might like to ride out with me to my family plantation, Sumner Hall, and meet the rest of the Connors clan."

"Meet your family?" Jewel blinked, struggling to organize her jumbled thoughts. "Well, I don't know," she hedged, trying to examine all the ramifications of such an invitation.

Hoping to coax her into accepting, he said, "I think you and my mother would really appreciate each other. "

"Of course.'' Jewel slapped her own forehead. "I get it. Your mother and her stolen heirlooms. We take Harry to your plantation and confront him there. Where did my brain go?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't know." Brent shrugged. Her acceptance and the reasons for it weren't exactly what he'd had in mind, but she had agreed to come home with him. "The
Dawn
will only be docked overnight, but that ought to give us plenty of time to trip old Harry and still enjoy a little rest among the giant oaks."

"Right," she concurred, but she really wasn't listening. Her mind was busy plotting new endings to her script and exploring new avenues in which to corner her quarry.

Brent tilted her chin, hoping to regain some small measure of her attention. "Did you bring any clothing besides these Gypsy costumes?"