Kissing Comfort (47 page)

The moment Comfort saw his thoughts turn inward in contemplation of the answer to her question, she struck. Grabbing fistfuls of her skirts, she yanked them up around her knees and pivoted. Her kick followed so swiftly that it seemed to be part of the same motion. Her foot landed solidly against Bode's abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs. Although he responded swiftly, Comfort had every advantage, and by the time he made a grab at her, momentum was already spinning her out of his reach. She danced away as nimbly as a water sprite.

His arms were still outstretched when she struck again. Her first kick knocked the arm nearest to her out of the way and cleared the path for her to plant her heel solidly against his hip. He staggered sideways but didn't fall and came at her as a boxer would, feinting, bobbing, and weaving. Comfort raised her skirts even higher, showing off a pair of lacy drawers that closely followed the line of her hips and thighs. She anticipated that his glance would drop, and he didn't disappoint. She kicked again, and this time put her foot firmly against his groin, applying only enough pressure to let him know how much worse it could have been.

Even if Bode's instinct hadn't been to double over to protect himself from a second strike, Comfort retracted her leg too fast for him to grab it. Once again, she danced out of the way and continued to circle him. Her dark eyes fairly gleamed. She was a watchful predator, seeing all of him in a single glance.

The next time she struck, it was with the heel of her hand, and she brought it down solidly between his shoulder blades before he straightened. Bode lurched forward and was able to keep from falling by grabbing one of the chairs at the table. It wobbled noisily and then tipped backward on its rear legs. Now Comfort attacked the chair, not Bode, and when it crashed to the floor, he dropped to his knees, threw up his hands, and offered surrender.

Standing outside of his reach, Comfort watched him warily, suspecting a trick. Bode looked less like a man defeated than one enjoying himself. There was nothing contrite about the smile he flashed at her. His amusement made her want to pick up the chair and clobber him with it. She lifted a single eyebrow and conveyed that sentiment without saying a word.

Bode sobered, but even on his knees he couldn't manage penitence. “Will you allow me to get up?”

Comfort didn't answer immediately. She straightened her overskirt, paying particular attention to the ruffled trim, and then smoothed the front of her bodice. “Perhaps if you tell me the point of that exercise.”

“I needed to be reminded that you're not without defenses.”

She simply shook her head, her mouth flattening. It required some effort not to roll her eyes. She picked up the chair and slid it back into place while Bode jumped to his feet. She sensed him behind her but didn't try to evade his embrace when his arms circled her. Leaning back against his chest, she set her arms over his.

“I'm not afraid,” she said quietly. “I don't want you to be afraid for me.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“I know. I feel the same for you.”

“Me?”

Comfort turned her head and gave him a significant look. “As I recall, you were no more able to hold your own against the Rangers than Newt or Tuck or me.” She paused a beat. “Or the pack of young ruffians that finished what the Rangers began.”

He made a slight grimace. “Present company excepted, I do all right when the odds are a little closer to even.”

“I'm sure you do.” She turned in his arms and lifted her mouth to kiss his wounded smile. When she drew back, she asked, “Did you ever reckon with the boys?”

“No. I thought I'd be able to find at least one of them, but they disappeared like shadows at high noon.”

She nodded, not surprised. “What about the Rangers?”

Bode's eyes darted sideways.

“Bode?”

“The men standing guard outside your room at the concert saloon?”

“Yes? What about them?”

“I'm fairly certain they were two of my attackers. You understand, there wasn't any time to exchange pleasantries, but I like to think I got some of my own back.”

Remembering the breadth and brawn of the pair who all but carried her up the saloon's stairs, Comfort couldn't quite contain a shiver. She'd been helpless, but Bode had summarily dispatched them. Feeling the need to move and shake off her unease, she separated herself from Bode and collected the glasses on the table. “I've been thinking about the attack,” she said. “The one against you, not me.”

“So have I.”

“You have?”

“For a quite a while.” He watched her set the glasses in the sink and waited until she turned to face him before he cocked an inquiring eyebrow. “Do you want to tell me?”

“It's occurred to me that the attack on you wasn't random. I've been wondering if the Rangers were waiting for you.”

“You're thinking that Bram was responsible.”

“Yes. I'm sorry, Bode, but yes.”

He exhaled softly. “It's all right. I suspected him almost at once.”

“The night of the party?”

Bode nodded. “When I learned about your engagement, I began to think that Bram's announcement wasn't the whim of a moment. He only wanted to convince you that it was. We expect him to act on impulse, so it wasn't hard for him to make us believe that he'd done it again, but I believe he had the attack and the announcement planned. You said it earlier. You were the collateral on Bram's debt. He made you his security that evening.”

“How much do you think he owes, Bode?”

“It's hard to say.”

“More than a thousand?”

Bode's short chuckle was humorless. “Conservatively? With interest on the debt, I'd say roughly a hundred thousand now.”

Comfort dropped like a stone on the window bench. She stared at him. “Surely not.”

Bode pulled out the stool under his drawing table and sat, hooking one heel on a rung. “How much are you worth, Comfort? You. Tucker. Newton. What's an estimate of your family's holdings?”

“Between three and a half and four million.”

He whistled softly. “I really didn't know, but it makes my point for me. Bram wouldn't understand your astonishment at the size of his debt. What he owes isn't a small percent of your total assets. Once you were married, he'd have expected to be able to put his hands on that money very quickly.”

Comfort's eyes dropped to her lap, her brow furrowing as she considered what she could do. She pleated her overskirt between her fingers and then smoothed it out again.

“Don't say it,” Bode said, watching her. “I know what you're getting ready to propose. Don't.”

Her head snapped up. “But I could pay the debt. I could sell some stocks and bonds and—”

“No.” Bode sliced the air with his hand. “I've done what you're suggesting. It only fixes the immediate problem, not the one at the root of it all. I love my brother, Comfort, but I'm no longer willing to save him from himself. Not financially, not even if I could.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that spoke to weariness and frustration. “I can't stop you from doing it, and I know you mean well, but it's wrong. If you help him this time, you can expect that his debt will be half again as much in the future. My mother sold heirloom jewelry the last time. I imagine that's why she's been so adamant that you and Bram marry. She's looking for someone else to manage the burden of his debt.”

“She knows?”

“She knows Bram. I'm guessing that she suspects everything else. It was no different with my father. Alexandra's nature is to protect her family. She can't help herself.”

Comfort could appreciate Alexandra's urge to make things right. “She doesn't have as much to do with Black Crowne as people think, does she?”

“No.”

“But you allow everyone to believe differently.”

He shrugged. “It not important to me, and it's a matter of pride for her. She and I have an arrangement regarding the business. I agreed to manage it, and she agreed not to interfere. We lost five ships during the war, Comfort. Three to capture that were never recovered and two others to damage so extensive that they were not worth saving. Black Crowne used to dominate the most important Atlantic shipping lanes. That changed when my father redirected our ships to be used for assisting other vessels running the blockades, not for trade. My father mortgaged everything. He used his influence to get credit and then extensions on the credit. My mother appealed to him to reconsider, but there was no reasoning with him, because he believed in the cause he was supporting. We only managed to save those ships that were on Pacific trade routes and didn't arrive in time to go with the fleet that my father put together. Alexandra thinks he was reckless. I prefer to think he was passionate. Sometimes there's not much difference between the two.”

Comfort had no trouble recalling the power and majesty of the ship depicted in the painting in Alexandra DeLong's parlor. She also remembered how Bode had described his artist father. “He was a romantic,” she said.

“Yes. Romantic. The collision of passion and recklessness.”

Her smile was faint, gently chiding. “You're a romantic, Bode. Passionate and principled. I'm not sure that reckless has anything to do with it.”

He wanted to thank her for that, wanted to kiss her in fact, but her comment passed without acknowledgment of any kind because of the thump and drag on the stairs. Bode pushed away from the table before Comfort could rise, and he went to the hatch.

“Ahoy!” Sam called up as the door opened. He clutched the rope railing tightly with one hand and held up the bundle he was carrying in the other. “Got everything you wanted.”

“Good. Do you need help?” Bode didn't know why he bothered asking. Sam's reply was a snort and a sneer. “I'll just hold the door,” he said.

Sam handed over the bundle when he reached the top and made it through the opening without assistance. He grinned at Comfort. “You're going to want some help if this is where you and Master Bode are going to live, and even if it's not, you're going to need someone to manage your household.”

“Are you applying for the job, Mr. Travers?” asked Comfort.

“Could be that I am.” He smoothed his jacket and stood at attention, presenting himself for inspection.

“Well, I am very interested.” She stood and took the bundle that Bode held out to her without looking at it or him. “I will have to check your references, of course.”

“Of course.”

Now Comfort glanced at Bode. He was trying to look as if he were merely resigned to the inevitable, but she glimpsed approval and something like relief in his eyes. She smiled at Samuel Travers. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” He pointed to the wrapped bundle in her arms. “I think you'll find everything's to your liking.”

Comfort finally looked at what she held. The shape of what she'd been handed was conical with the tip of the cone pointed toward the floor. She loosened the knot in the string that kept the fabric cover in place and then tugged the string free. She laid back the material and saw she was holding clothing that had been neatly folded and placed into a Chinese straw hat. She didn't have to ask the purpose. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

Comfort could hear Bode and Sam talking as she changed clothes in the bedroom. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but it was reasonable to suppose they were discussing getting her safely to the bank. When she finished dressing in the tunic, pants, and slippers, she scraped back her hair and plaited it, tying it off with a black band that Sam had provided for just that purpose. She set the dou lì on her head and slipped the black silk strap under her chin.

Comfort tried to match Suey Tsin's small, careful steps and slightly bowed head when she walked back into the other room. She only looked up when neither man spoke. Sam Travers gaped at her, but Bode was studying her critically.

“What are you looking for?” she asked. “
I
thought I was Suey Tsin.”

“So did I until you thrust your chin out and dressed me down.”

“Oh.” She dutifully lowered her eyes, tucked her chin, and folded her hands in front of her.

“Much better,” Bode said. “And don't worry that I'll expect it when you're not wearing that hat. I know who I married.”

Sam chuckled as Comfort raised her head just long enough to give Bode a smug and saucy smile.

Bode took Comfort's hands and held them. He welcomed her looking at him now. “Sam and one of my clerks will follow you to the bank. Escorting you would seem odd, and I don't want anything to draw attention to you.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sam. “Did you get the market basket?”

“Downstairs waiting for her.”

“Good.” He turned back to Comfort. “You'll have something to carry. You should arouse no comment or suspicion as long as you keep reminding yourself that you're Suey Tsin. Go straight to the bank. If Newt and Tuck aren't there, wait for them. I imagine your maid's been to Jones Prescott before.”

“Yes. Not often, but the tellers know her. She'd be allowed to go upstairs without question. Everyone will assume her visit has something to do with me.”

“That's what I'm counting on. You'll leave with your uncles in a carriage. Once you're at home, stay there until I come for you. I have to speak to John Farwell first, then to Bram and Alexandra, but I'll see you tonight.”

She nodded. “You'll be careful?”

“I don't think anyone but my mother's particularly interested in me.” He saw immediately that she wasn't satisfied with his answer. “Yes, I'll be careful.”