Love's Vengeance (21 page)

***

“Here we are.” Colette announced stopping at a second floor room and opening the door, preceded them in, “I am afraid we have dispensed with sitting rooms over here altogether. It is simply impossible to keep such large areas warm in the winter.” she shrugged, watching Desiree take in her new quarters.

“It’s lovely.” Desiree remarked approvingly.

The room was light and airy with a sloping ceiling following the steep roof. Two window seats were nuzzled in alcoves formed by dormers. A plush yellow rug lightened the dark walnut floor and the same yellow was carried throughout the room with the spread and canopy of a poster bed and draperies at the windows. After so many weeks at sea, on a small lumpy pallet, the heavy feather ticking of the bed felt like heaven as Desiree took a seat there.

“Desiree dear, while I show Bridgett to her room, why don’t you stay and rest. We can talk more later.” Colette suggested, seeing Desiree relish the unfamiliar comfort.

“Thank you Aunt Colette. I am rather worn and this glorious bed is calling to me.” She sighed.

The door closed behind them and Desiree removed her hat, placing it upon a dressing table, then walking to a window seat; she reclined in the cozy alcove, leaning back against the wall and looking out at the busy street below. Large old trees dotted the lane here and there, heavy horse drawn carts rumbled down a cobblestone road. Watching one pass by, she followed it with her eyes until it cleared the end of the lane, heading toward the docks.

As the cart turned the corner, she saw a man in tan breeches and a simple white shirt, striding down the road, with hair the color of spun gold—with a certain gait to his walk. Stephen Colter—there was no mistaking him. He turned toward the dock area and then disappeared from view. She wondered where he had been, causing him to just now be returning to his ship. He had left them here, more than an hour ago. “Probably giving some woman a helping of his charm.” she thought with jealous ire.

Reminding herself that it was none of her affair, Desiree stood from the seat dismissing him from her mind. She lay across the large expanse of the canopied bed and it seemed that before her head touched the down filled pillows she fell into a very comfortable sleep.

Through a blur of rolling, frothing waves, the light blond curls and brown eyes loomed in gigantic proportions just above the crest of the thundering sea. She ran along the deck of the
Windward
, grasping the rail and raising on her toes to catch a glimpse, unable to keep him in sight as the ocean roared forlornly about her.

Abruptly he was there beside her on the deck. His hands were folded, hanging over the rail as he leaned his arms there. The wind rippled his shirt and ruffled his hair as he gazed solemnly across the open ocean. He seemed unaware of her and she drank in his presence greedily studying his face, which at the moment was expressionless. The eyes were so dark that on another man they might appear evil or menacing but they were twinkling—warm and rich on him. The lips were closed gently—not full, not thin. Oh how she longed to feel those lips possessing her own. To be lost in the warmth of those eyes or see the flash of a cocky grin and the dimples that appeared at those times. He was so close and yet seemed a world away from her.

The scene changed once more and then all of a sudden she was in his cabin, moving beside a bed where he lay deep in sleep. She watched his naked chest rise and fall with the slow regular rhythm of his breathing. The soft expression of slumber gave almost a boyish quality to his handsome face.

She reached out to caress the furry softness of his chest and spoke his name in a whisper. His eyes opened and he smiled, reaching out to roll her over his body and onto the bed beside him. Her arms encircled his neck while his lips tested hers and she eagerly returned his kiss.

“You do care don’t you Desiree? You do want me.”

“Oh yes Stephen, so very much.”

He chuckled then grew serious, “No pain—this is a gift for sharing.”

He moved atop her and she welcomed him happily, holding him to her as his body possessed hers totally. She kissed him fiercely and then all at once he gasped, pulling back from her with a moan. His face was contorted with pain as he slipped from the bed, staggering to his feet. That is when she saw it—from out of nowhere, the hilt of the blue sapphire dagger protruded from his belly. He stared at her in amazement and she screamed his name as he fell to the floor.

***

The late afternoon sun shone through the sheers when Desiree came abruptly awake. Tears slipped down her face unchecked, feeling a horrible loss, feeling heartbroken. The dream was still vivid in her mind until conscious rational brought her back to reality and she was spared, once more, the torture of what she had imagined she had done.

The door opened suddenly and Bridgett hurried to the bedside, “Desiree I heard you call out child. Are you all right?”

Desiree covered her face with her arm, “It was only a dream.” she whispered, hiding her tears from her nurse.

“Dinner will be served soon and your uncle is downstairs. Would you like to go down now?”

“Oh
Oui
of course. Would you help me to change for dinner?” she sat up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

“I will just call for your luggage. It was left in the front hall because you were sleeping.”

Bridgett hurried out and Desiree rose from the bed, moving about the unfamiliar room. Stopping to look out the window to the place she had last glimpsed Stephen, her mind went again to the dream. The feeling of loss still persisted. A heaviness in her heart that made her want to burst into sobs.

“Get out of my mind.” She whispered, with her forehead against the cool windowpane. “Please leave me alone.”

***

Desiree came fluidly down the stairs to be greeted by her uncle’s smiling face, “Desiree is that you my dearest?” he teased. “Surely not! Our Desiree was as skinny as a rail, with tousled hair and all legs as I recall.”

Desiree stopped upon the stairs, her rich satin gown of lilac frothing about her and smiled mischievously, “Surely you sir can not be my Uncle Maurice! Why—he was as tall as a tree and no growth of bristles covered his dear face.” She shook her head.

“Get down here, you impudent child and give your uncle a hug!” he ordered, holding open his arms. Desiree hurried down the last few steps and into his embrace.

“Oh my sweet Desiree, Colette told me of the sad fate of your dear family. I can not begin to express my sorrow for your loss. How are you, truly?” He set her upon her feet before him.

“Uncle Maurice
merci
. I truly am better now. I miss them terribly but each day that passes brings less pain. I am coming to terms with my loss. I feel journeying here was a wise decision on my part. I am very happy to be here. I only wish that it would not have been a tragedy, to finally bring me to your home.” She placed a light kiss upon his cheek, “What possessed you to become a hairy bear?” she teased, touching his coarse whiskers.

“The cold winters my dear. You shall see in but a few short months. You shall be taken to heavy mittens and woolen stockings as are the rest of our hardy lot.” He chuckled, taking her arm and leading her to the dining room.

Chapter Seventeen

Within a few short days Desiree had settled in, comfortable with the surroundings, and enchanted with the town of Portsmouth. Her dreams were still plagued by Captain Colter and he would come to her offering her pleasures and warmth she longed to share with him still but now that the burden that she might be with child had been lifted she was able to relax and enjoy her Aunt Colette’s hospitality wholeheartedly.

One morning the three women strolled leisurely up the cobblestone path edging the road that led to the main street of town. Colette did not own a carriage, an unheard of idea in France, but Portsmouth was so condensed that all parts could be comfortably journeyed to on foot and Desiree found the walk invigorating.

Arriving at the main street, the walks were crowded with Colonials, as they favored calling themselves, going about their daily routines. The three glanced at the carts they passed, admiring the wares, stopping here and there to browse through the goods.

Colette was at one such cart, fingering a bolt of heavy wool; thinking aloud of the winter and the need for heavy undergarments again coming upon them. Desiree touched the coarse fabric; almost recoiling as Colette spoke of the heavy pantaloons she could make. The idea of such roughness against her skin was uncomfortable for Desiree to even imagine.

Glancing ahead down the street, Desiree happened to catch sight of a man. Pale blond curls gleamed in the sun and then in a blink he was gone, blocked from her view by the tricorn of a man before her on the walk. Her heart seemed to miss a beat.

As they started off once more, Desiree walked on tiptoes briefly, trying to catch sight of him again. He was stopped, speaking with a hawker, and as they approached she held her breath in anticipation. His head turned and she expected the warm dark eyes, the lean suntanned face but it was not to be. The man was much older, with milky white skin, an obtrusive nose and a pointed chin. She nearly moaned out loud in anguish and quickly tried to turn her attention to Bridgett and Colette as they chatted gaily beside her but it was no use and thoughts of Stephen flooded her head.

She knew in the reasonable recesses of her mind that it could not have been Stephen but still her heart had leapt with hope just the same. Why she wondered? What on earth was this hold he had over her every moment? She knew that had it been him, she would have looked the other way—would not have greeted him nor expected a greeting from him. She was being ridiculous. It had been over a week now since he had left them unceremoniously at Colette’s door and walked off back into his own world without so much as a farewell but then—she hadn’t expected one. What on earth was the matter with her? He seemed to be branded on her mind, her body, to her very soul and now her mind was playing tricks on her. She was seeing him places where he simply could not be.

He was in Dover now or more likely back out to sea, heading to his next destination. He was out of her life so why couldn’t she put the thoughts of him, and all that had happened, behind her? She had no answer and she knew that even if she didn’t allow one thought of him to invade her head, during the day; that he would still be there each night. And she would go on a frustrating search for him, or make passionate love with him, or witness that hideous dagger invade his body and wake in tears, feeling a terrible loss.

Bridgett hooked arms with her, pulling her thoughts back from the war going on within her own mind, “So what do you say, Desiree, yes or no?”

“I’m sorry Bridgett…I wasn’t listening. What did you ask?”

“We asked if you would like to stroll to the harbor and watch the mast ship leave port.”

“Mast ship?” she questioned.

Colette laughed brightly hooking her other arm in her own and leading her in the direction of the docks, “As I just told you moments ago sweet—about ten shipments a year leave Portsmouth in route to England. Yes, mast ships. They are specially designed ships that hold the huge pine masts that will become the centerpieces of the Royal Navy. It is quite a sight to see. These trees come from the White Mountains and are so huge that it takes ninety or more oxen to bring them out of the forest to the river. Then the trees are floated down to Portsmouth to be loaded up into these ships—just come along silly, I will show you what I mean.”

Bridgett laughed, as the two led Desiree along, “I swear Desiree I wish I could see what is in your head! Where are you child, when you miss entire conversations? Some distant star?”

Desiree pouted, shooting an injured look at first one and then the other of her companions, “Enjoy your baiting me you two, you’ll not ruffle my feathers today. I am immune.” She quipped good-naturedly. Thinking silently that she was thankful they were unaware of her thoughts and where they seemed forever to stray.

Chapter Eighteen

Desiree was up early on a bright Saturday morning, preparing with excitement for the day ahead. She fidgeted anxiously as she waited on Bridgett to finish with her hair. It was piled atop her head, with soft ringlets, feathering about her neck and along her face. Then she slipped into the light blue gown of cotton, which would be comfortable today. The
décolletage
was of an attractive display but not overmuch for a daytime affair and the layers of cotton underskirt would actually be cooling and would be a blessing in the heat of the afternoon. Although it was nearly mid August and still hot, Colette assured that within just a few weeks the weather would begin to cool and the lush stands of trees along the riverbanks as well as throughout the town would begin to turn to tawny browns, oranges and crimsons, putting on their autumn finery.

Desiree turned before her reflection in the large mirrored table, smiling sweetly at Bridgett who awaited her approval, “
Merci
Bridgett. Shall we be off?” she bubbled excitedly.

“You sure are chipper about this outing. You act as though you are attending a ball!” Bridgett observed, moving toward the door.

“Oh but it is! At least, I fear the closest we shall come to a ball in Portsmouth.” Desiree replied gaily taking Bridgett’s arm in hers. “You can not tell me you are not a tad anxious for something other than window shopping. Anything at this point is a welcomed distraction.” She laughed, as she scampered down the stairs before her.

“It will be interesting to have a look at the way these Colonials entertain.” Bridgett conceded.

After three weeks in the small town, Desiree was familiar with every aspect; having been to every point of interest—some more than once. She had found that Stephen had been correct in that entertainments were few. Then to, she was unaccustomed to being so impeded. She had never lived in a town proper, always on the wide open grounds of her estate and found life in this tiny hamlet was rather hindering. Riding horses, always so much a part of her days at home seemed unheard of here. There was no point in it for every destination was in easy walking distance. Then also she missed having the chance to slip off her shoes and walk barefoot through the meadows or the opportunity to go swimming and she was beginning to miss her freedom terribly.