Fortune's Flames (11 page)

The offensive man snatched up his companion’s drink and gulped it down. “I’m more of a man than those slugs you’ve been bedding upstairs.”

Belatedly Maren realized where this scene was heading. This man was out to harm her. Others were trying to reason with him, but his dark eyes gleamed with a light which told her they were wasting their time and breath. She collected the cards and handed them to the man at her right. “To assure this man that he’s been beaten fairly, please check each card in this deck.”

Maren prayed that the troublemaker had not tampered with the cards during the game. Fortunately, he hadn’t thought of doing so, and his
companions could find nothing wrong with them. “Your own friends vow that the deck is clean, sir. Are you ready to leave politely?”

When Maren revealed that she was not going to back down or burst into tears, the man glared at her. “I’ll get revenge tomorrow night.”

“No, sir, you will not. You are no longer welcome in Lady Luck.”

“Don’t be a fool, girl. I can cost you plenty of business.”

“If that business is like yours, sir, I will gladly lose it. Lady Luck is known for her refined atmosphere; your drunken outbursts are out of place. I cannot allow you or anyone else to subject my patrons to such vulgarity and discourtesy. Leave, sir, and tell your boss the ploy didn’t work,” she remarked meaningfully.

A look of surprise briefly crossed the obnoxious man’s ruddy face before he stalked from the room. Maren glanced around, noted that the focus was still on her. She smiled. “Please, everyone, return to your games and conversations. I’m terribly sorry for the interruption. Dan, serve everyone a glass of wine on the house.”

When Dan joined her near the steps, he said, “That was a generous thing to do, Miss Maren, but a costly one. Our wine stores are almost depleted.”

“I know, Dan; I checked the wine cellar with Mary this morning. But I had to do something to relax our patrons after that nasty scene. Has that man always been such a bastard?”

“He’s always been a tough player and heavy drinker, but I’ve never seen him drunk or crude before. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“I think someone paid him to harass me tonight.” Maren related the gossip circulating about her and Lady Luck. “I think somebody wants me to fail, to give up.”

“Who?” Dan asked. “For what reason?”

“I don’t know, Dan. Just make certain that man stays out of here.”

In her room, Maren vowed to herself that she would never again play cards for such a large stake when distracted. Unable to sleep, she retrieved the letters and read more of them.

“Damn you, Eric James! From these letters, you’re getting better and better all the time. My parents were good judges of character, so they couldn’t be so wrong about you. That means I can’t be right about you. Damn. If you aren’t my enemy, then who is?”

The following Sunday, at lunchtime, Dan Myers informed Maren that he was moving into a house down the street from Lady Luck. She looked at him in surprise. “Why, Dan? Have I done something wrong? You aren’t quitting, are you?” she asked worriedly.

“Certainly not, Miss Maren,” he responded pleasantly. “I think it would be best for you if you didn’t have a man living here.”

“We aren’t alone, Dan; Mary lives here too.”

“She lives downstairs, but we live upstairs. Gossip can be ferocious, Miss Maren. I don’t want it to devour you,”

“What do I care if people talk about me?” she scoffed angrily.

“You care, or you wouldn’t be so careful about your behavior. I was a friend of your father’s, so I have to do what’s best for you.”

“That would leave Mary and me alone here, Dan. Is that wise?”

“I’ll make certain everything is locked up tightly every night. Maybe you’re right about somebody harassing you. You’re a young woman, a single one, and a very beautiful one. I’m not old, I’m single, and presentable. That makes us a perfect target for rumors. If I remain here, my presence can be used against you. I don’t want that, Miss Maren.”

“But free living quarters are part of your pay. If you move out, I insist on giving you a raise to cover your rent.”

“You can’t afford to do that. Don’t worry about me.”

“If necessary, I’ll use the money in the bank to pay you and to buy more wine. My partner may be dead or nonexistent. I’ll worry about him and his money later.”

“Your father would be very proud of you, Miss Maren.”

On Thursday evening Maren donned the ivory and
gold dress. Since she needed to feel relaxed, she lether long dark hair hang loose and wavy. She did not mind going below because there had been no more trouble downstairs since last Friday night.

And this week she had learned something. On Tuesday, she had visited Marc at the office again, and she had managed to find out that Eric was “renting” her family’s townhouse from the “investor” who had purchased it following her parents’ deaths and Eric’s takeover. Reluctantly Dan had helped her lure Marc from the office long enough for her to replace most of the letters; she had read all of them except the last few. Those she had kept, for she had hoped that Eric did not know how many there were. Of course Dan had merely thought she had wanted to look around the office. She had not told him she knew the safe’s combination.

Later, Dan reported that he had made contact with a pirate who had promised to deliver fifty crates of wine on the following afternoon and fifty every two weeks thereafter. Maren knew the wine was stolen from ships taken at sea. But if she did not purchase it, someone else would, and she needed wine to stay in business.

Maren circulated in the gaming rooms, chatting with her patrons before agreeing to join three men for baccarat, a game which depended upon the luck of the draw as much as a player’s skill. One of the three was the banker, who dealt each player two cards face-down. If a third card was desired to achieve a total of nine or nineteen, and to win, the third card
was dealt face-up, creating suspense. Tens and face cards did not count, and all bets had to be equal to or less than the banker’s.

The game proceeded genially, Maren sipping a glass of wine, the men inbibing stronger drinks; but Cameron James’s daughter did not allow the conversation to dull her wits. She had set a limit on what she could afford to lose and had vowed not to exceed it. She hoped to earn more money tonight, to help replace the amount stolen by Eric.

As Jared Morgan entered the gambling house, he nodded a greeting to the guards, then paused in the large entry hall to scan his surroundings. He wanted to take his mind off his frustrating search for James and Maren Slade, who seemed unknown here. After docking at dawn, he had managed to locate James Shipping, but according to the lad in the office, Eric James and the
Martha J
had been gone for weeks. To make matters worse, Jared had been told of Cameron James’s death and of Eric’s takeover of the firm. He wondered who was in control of Lady Luck and whether he would face problems here. Fortunately he had put in at Savannah to check on his family, so he was now prepared to handle his other business.

When familiar laughter reached Jared’s alert ears, his head jerked toward the room to his right and his tawny gaze focused on a brunette who had her back to him. His tall body stiffened and his heart pounded. He almost dreaded checking the looking glass beyond her, but he had to view the woman’s face. His
eyes narrowed. How was it possible that no one he’d questioned had known of the beautiful woman who was calmly playing cards with three men!

Quickly Jared’s gaze searched both rooms for Maren’s husband, James Slade. Surprised and pleased to find the man was not about, he made his way through the large room to stand behind her.

Maren sensed a male presence, but she was caught off guard when she received a kiss on the cheek. Simultaneously his manly fragrance assailed her nostrils, then her head turned and their gazes fused. She inhaled sharply and her eyes widened. His smile beat upon her like the blazing sun.

“Maren. It’s been a long time.”

“Jared,” she murmured, suddenly short of breath and very warm. Her hands trembled so that she nearly dropped her cards.

“You’re very hard to locate, I must say. I’ve spent all day looking for you. I see you’re a woman of many surprises,” he teased.

With great difficulty, Maren pulled her eyes from his handsome face and glanced at the men at her table. Their curious gazes were locked on her. “Let me finish this game, Jared, then we’ll talk,” she told him, but she dared not look at him again.

“I’ll wait right here. I can’t allow you to slip through my fingers,” he replied in a strange, but mellow, tone.

Maren tried to concentrate on the game, but Jared’s close proximity prevented it. Aware of his hands on her chair, she vainly tried to suppress the quiver this
slight contact inspired. And when his strong fingers slipped beneath her hair and began to caress the back of her neck, she shifted in her seat. She could not ask him to halt his bold behavior without calling more attention to it, but she gradually became annoyed with him for displaying such familiarity in a public place, her place. After Jared’s unexpected arrival, Maren lost every hand except one, and she rapidly reached her loss limit for the night. Having done so, she smiled, thanked the players, and excused herself. Jared then pulled out her chair and extended his hand to help her rise. After Maren led him to the foot of the stairs, she turned to face him. “Don’t ever embarrass me in public like that again,” she scolded. “I have enough trouble keeping a clean reputation without you strolling in and discoloring it.”

Jared did not apologize. Why should he worry about sparing a reputation she was so loose with at times! The
Martha J’s
cabin had been private, but the beach in Jamaica was certainly a public place where they could have been discovered in an almost intimate situation. He knew he had been unnerving her; he had done it intentionally. He leaned against the sturdy stair post. “You’ve led me on quite a merry chase, woman. I didn’t find your note until you were long gone, and now I have wasted all day trying to track you down. Let’s go where we can talk.”

Maren erroneously assumed that Jared had discovered her identity. “I can’t take you to my room,” she whispered. “People would gossip.” She observed him as he grinned mischievously. He was dressed in a
fawn waistcoat. Its narrow shoulders and tightfitting sleeves revealed his masculine torso. His fawn-colored breeches halted below the knee, and silk stockings then covered his legs until they disappeared into soft leather shoes with rounded tongues and silver buckles. Underneath his vest, he wore a soft linen shirt. A neatly tied cravat completed his attire. His hair was combed back, and parted on the right side. His garments were clean and fresh, as was he. He smelled delightful, and he looked magnificent, refined.

Jared was eying Maren as she looked him over. He liked the ivory gown she wore. The fitted waist revealed her slender midriff, and modestly accentuated her nice bosom. He wanted to stroke the satiny flesh her low neckline revealed. Indeed, his passionate nature was responding to her undeniable sensuality; his snug britches made him aware of this. Touching the gold necklace at her throat, he remarked, “I’m glad I didn’t take this that day; it’s at home around this lovely neck.”

Maren actually blushed, something she did infrequently. “I, too, am glad,” she replied, unable to come up with a wittier response.

“However, you don’t look as desperate or as helpless as you did that day on the ship. In fact, I don’t recall this gown,” he said.

Maren looked surprised. “Do you remember everything you see?”

“I try to. Sometimes even a tiny piece of information could save my life. In any case, you seem to have
made out well since your return.”

“I’ve had my share of good luck. What about you, Captain Hawk?”

Jared quickly glanced around to make certain no one had overheard her. “If you don’t mind, would you keep that name to yourself?” he asked. Jared didn’t need to be secretive about it because he was a patriotic privateer who worked under the president’s aegis, but he thought it might charm this exquisite woman if she believed she shared a secret with him.

“Then what shall I call you, Jared?”

“Morgan,” he answered calmly.

“Well, Morgan, what are you doing in New Orleans?”

He chuckled. “Jared Morgan is my name. You do recall your promise to spend time with me if I didn’t rob you? And your note in Jamaica?”

Maren smiled when Jared shared his real name with her. Now, she wouldn’t have to worry about making a slip before she confessed that they had met years ago. “Surely you didn’t spend so much time and money just to pay a social call on me,” she teased merrily.

“To be honest, I’m here on business, and for pleasure. Can we take a walk so we can talk privately? It’s beautiful outside.”

“That would be nice, Jared,” she replied, but as they approached the door, Maren smiled and told the two guards, “I’ll return later.”

Ned Jones and Harry Peck nodded, and Ned said, “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on things, Miss
Maren. We won’t allow any trouble tonight.”

Maren thanked them, then left with Jared, who had assumed the guard was referring to trouble with James Slade.

As soon as they were a short distance from Lady Luck, Jared teased, “You really like to live dangerously, don’t you, Maren?”

She halted and looked at him. “What do you mean? I don’t usually lose very many hands, but you did distract me with your sudden arrival.”

“How about playing a game with me?”

“And let you win the shirt off my back because you addle my brain?”

“That sounds most enticing, but I had a much different game in mind, my enchanting siren. Let’s go to my hotel room and play a game without any rules,” he suggested bluntly.

Maren’s cheeks colored slightly. “I can’t do that, Jared. Someone might see us. Besides, I think you have the wrong impression of me. Actually we should go back inside, but perhaps we can have lunch tomorrow.”

“You weren’t concerned about getting caught with me on the ship or on the beach,” he reminded her. “You were warm and willing then. Why so cold tonight? I’ve come a long way to collect on your promises.”