Lady Be Bad (7 page)

"Perfect timing." Sylvia looked up from
pouring the coffee when Marlayna entered the kitchen. "You look a
little better. Are you?"

She favored her friend with a genuine smile.
"I've decided to approach this little outing on another level.
After dinner, I'll let you help me pack clothes suitable for a
castle warming and a mini-vacation on an island in the St.
Lawrence."

Sylvia's responding smile was smug. "Now
that's a much more mature, sensible attitude."

Marlayna reached for a slice of buttered
diet wheat toast. "Thank you, I'm trying." Even white teeth snapped
a healthy bite of bread.

"To be exact, there are one thousand, seven
hundred and ninety three islands," Captain Warren readily answered
Marlayna's question. The Indians called the St Lawrence 'river
without end' and it's populated by beautiful wooded islands that
the French named
Les
Milles Iies
or Thousand
Islands."

Looking out the wide port windows, she saw
islands that ranged from no more than rocks to others that were
verdant landmasses dotted with home sites. "The islands certainly
are beautiful," she agreed.

"A million dollar playground with the first
five-and-ten-cent store." The captain recited a paraphrased version
of an old song. He laughed embarrassedly, and at her quizzical look
explained further.

"During the late eighteen hundreds the rich
and celebrated came to relax in the great stone mansions and luxury
hotels that populated the islands. Frank W. Woolworth also came,
setting up his first mercantile store in Watertown. Today, it's a
boater's dream holiday to tour the 'jewels in the crown of the
Empire State.'" His deeply tanned complexion bore the unmistakable
imprint of weathering by sea and sun. "Is this your first trip to
the castle?"

Marlayna nodded. "My first boat trip
too."

"In that case, if you'll excuse me for a
moment, I'll instruct the bridge to slow us down so I can give you
the five-and-ten-cent tour."

She gave the captain a relieved smile and
patted her stomach. But to be truthful, her butterflies had been in
evidence long before the launch left Blind Bay Marina and passed
Chippewa Point doing fifteen knots.

Her blue-gray eyes matched the arrogant St
Lawrence and the river's white capped choppiness echoed her own
tremulous emotions. Marlayna's chaotic feelings suddenly threatened
her ability to breathe and to stand, making her stumble into the
comfort of a nearby deck chair.

She felt like a tightrope walker, wondering
how far was too far. How much longer would it take for her to
falter and completely lose her very delicate balance? Trembling
fingers wiped the perspiration off her upper lip.
It's amazing,
how the man I
love most in the world is suddenly the man I
fear the
most.

"Here we are." Captain Warren's voice
interrupted her musings. "Thought this might help." He handed her a
tall plastic ice-filled glass of bubbling crystal liquid garnished
with lemon wedges. "Would you mind if I joined you? It's quite a
luxury for me to get a single passenger to entertain."

"I'd be honored." She took a healthy swallow
and found the crisp tonic water refreshing. "This hits the spot.
Thank you." Marlayna flashed him a smile. "Am I your first
passenger to the island or the last?" She looked pointedly at
eighteen unoccupied chairs.

"One hundred thirty passengers preceded you,
Miss O'Brian," the captain acknowledged, "and there'll be a few
more after you." Seeing the condensation from the glass begin to
drip onto her white slacks, he hurriedly pulled a small table
closer to her. "Mr. Kingman hired both of my charter launches this
weekend to transport his guests."

An impressed expression settled on her face.
"I hadn't realized the castle was large enough to accommodate so
many people."

"I'll be returning the majority of them back
to either the marina or to hotels on other islands." He relaxed
more comfortably in his chair. "I'm not going to spoil the surprise
of your seeing the castle on Jorstadt, but I will say it could
easily house that many visitors."

Marlayna's dark head nodded starboard. "I've
been noticing a lot of river traffic. Tramp steamers?"

"Ore and grain boats heading for Montreal
and on to Europe. We cross the main shipping channel." He was
interrupted by a bird honking and directed Marlayna's attention
toward the rapidly-moving V-shaped formation that was visible off
the stern. "Snow geese. The islands have the largest population in
the world."

For another twenty minutes, Captain Warren
regaled Marlayna with amusing river tales and some rather
disputable fishing yarns that revolved the annual "muskie" derbies
— involving the wily native game fish called muskellunge that reach
over five feet in length and weigh upward of seventy pounds.
"Honest." His palm was held up. "Before you leave Blind Bay, you
take a peek inside Sam's Fish House. That muskie's mounted right
over the door."

"I will." She shook her finger in warning.
"But I bet this fish doubles in size every time you talk about
it."

His laughter mingled with hers. "Triples."
Captain Warren's blue gaze shifted over her shoulder to the
flashing red channel marker. "If you'll excuse me." He stood and
touched the brim of his hat "Duty calls. We're getting ready to
head into the docking area on Jorstadt."

The lighthearted pleasure she had succumbed
to, courtesy of the captain, was instantly replaced by the familiar
anxiety. Marlayna inhaled deeply, counted to ten and reached for
her purse. "Let's check on our happy face," came her mumbled
directive.

A fresh coat of pearlized copper gloss was
applied to her lips; powder daubed on forehead, nose and chin
eliminated their shine; and she valiantly tried to blink away the
haunted, intimidated look that clouded her eyes. Standing, she
smoothed the legs of her pleated-front white trousers and tilted up
the collar of her short-sleeved indigo silk blouse.

Her reflection shimmered in the thick wall
of Lexan that protected the launch's passengers from wind and sea
spray. "Cool and confident." Marlayna fluffed out the richly
highlighted curls that tumbled to her eyebrows and then smoothed
any errant waves behind her ears and along her nape. Her fingernail
flicked the gold loop that dangled from her left earlobe; even she
was narcissistically impressed.

"Ahoy, Lady of the Lakes!"

"Ahoy, Jorstadt. We're carrying one very
beautiful passenger."

Marlayna stepped out of the shielded area
onto the deck, watching the disembarking ramp expertly being
lowered into place. Standing in front of a generously proportioned
redwood belvedere was Arthur Kingman. For a long moment, she took
in the tall, lean frame that was elegantly cloaked in designer
jeans and a pink golf shirt; then, with a resigned sigh, she waved
a greeting before turning to extend her hand to Captain Warren.
"Thank you for a wonderful voyage."

His left palm added an extra measure of
pressure over their clasped hands. "Thank you for enduring and
laughing at my sea stories. Your luggage will be given to the
porter, and now, regretfully, I must give you to King Arthur." His
right eyelid closed in a merry wink.

Arthur Kingman could not wait for his
guest's white espadrilles to hit the dock. His long legs quickly
conquered the distance that kept them separated. "Marlayna, I was
praying you hadn't stood me up."

She deftly avoided the masculine arms that
were trying to surround her waist. "Arthur," her hands captured
his, "it's so lovely to see you again." Marlayna also succeeded in
outmaneuvering his lips, making his kiss slide off her jaw. "I'm
afraid the lateness of my arrival is due to the airlines. The plane
was late from Albany to Ogdensburg."

Taking a step back, she gave him a
well-rehearsed, beaming smile. "I see both island and castle life
agree with you; you look wonderful."

"Speaking of looking wonderful..." Arthur
managed to wiggle his left hand free and caress the delicate shadow
beneath her cheek. "Marlayna --" the timbre of his voice deepened
over each syllable of her name, "do you know how much joy you've
brought me this year, and right this moment…”

"Arthur, what a sweet sentiment!" She
purposely kept her tone light and breezy. "I'm so anxious to see
your fabulous castle." Marlayna linked her arm companionably around
his and began to venture further along the dock. "This summer house
is certainly a classic beginning."

Frowning slightly, he ran his fingers
through the thick sandy hair generously veined with silver.
This
always happens whenever I try to get closer
,
I wish I knew the words that would open
Marlayna O'Brian
to me
. "We do enjoy the gazebo on these lazy, sultry summer
nights," he finally responded, leading her along a stone path
through a dense grove of towering maple trees and fragrant
evergreens.

"Tell me more about the castle," she
invited, shuffling through the brown pine needles that threatened
to obscure most of the granite steps.

"You'll be getting your first breathtaking
view right…" he hesitated while they climbed another four steps, "…
now!"

Marlayna's gasp was genuine. "Breathtaking
is the perfect word! My goodness, Arthur, you own one big pink
castle!"

His deep laugh echoed through the forest.
"It's the biggest, most romantic pink elephant on the St Lawrence,"
Arthur conceded with a grin. "The bell tower is five stories; there
are two huge boat houses on the far docks; forty-six bedrooms and
an indoor squash court which now accommodates my tennis skills. The
interior is filled with suits of armor, medieval weapons, a mix of
eighteenth and twentieth century furniture, plus a maze of secret
passages."

She cleared her throat and tried to figure
out what question to ask first. "I can see the drawbridge now and a
fortress wall around the moat," Marlayna spoke to him, but her eyes
were still occupied by the sheer spectacle of the structure.
"Arthur, how long have you been building this place?"

"I wish I could take the credit," he
returned, "but the castle was built in 1896 by Frederick G. Bourne,
the Singer Sewing Machine magnate. He imported nearly ninety
Italian stonemasons who worked on the rose-hued granite for eight
years. Most of the island's ten acres are in New York State, but a
small comer is in Canada."

Arthur's hand cupped her right elbow and
resumed walking. "I have spent the last two years and considerable
sums of money maintaining and restoring the castle. All the
accolades deservedly go to the architect that handled the project,
Noah Drake. He's a wonderful man, and I'm thrilled that he and my
Gwen are engaged."

Marlayna's foot skidded on the drawbridge,
her right ankle twisted and, if it hadn't been for Arthur Kingman's
helpful hand, she would have stumbled and thrashed her way into a
lily pad dotted moat

"Are you all right?" He stooped to brush the
dirt off the knee of her white pants.

"Fine. Really." She managed to calm her
erratic breathing. "As you can see, I'm more Thumbelina than
ballerina."

Arthur took advantage of Marlayna's
embarrassment by snaking his arm around her waist. "This will
provide you with a bit more security." Looking over his shoulder,
he gave a cursory glance at the wide wooden planks. "I'll have one
of the groundskeepers check on that bridge. Won't do to have an
accident."

A dozen steps later found them facing two
mammoth arched wooden doors. Arthur Kingman pushed against a round
brass plate, engraved with his coat of arms. "Noah had this
researched and fitted for a castle-warming present."

"Very impressive," she agreed, taking the
proper amount of time to appreciate the heraldry. A gold crown was
centered between two gold halberds, or battle-axes, that were
crossed on a shield of red. Marlayna's gaze lowered to translate
the Latin motto: “Omnia Vincit Amor — love conquers all. Very, very
nice." It was trite but all she could manage.

With a chivalrous half-bow, Arthur motioned
her inside. "Welcome to Kingman Castle." The massive reception hall
was cool and empty. "Right now all my guests are playing golf or
tennis, swimming, boating, relaxing or just snooping around."

"Well, I can certainly see how snooping
around could become a habit here." She ran her fingers down the
cold arm of a six-foot suit of armor that stood guard by the stone
staircase. "Goodness, Arthur, I don't know what to look at
first."

His responding smile was one of pure
pleasure. "Well, you'll have an entire week to snoop, my dear."
Arthur's hand slid around her shoulders to bestow an intimate
squeeze. "And in that week I want to take some time for the two of
us to get better acquainted. You know, Marlayna," his gray eyes
narrowed on her face. "I'm a little concerned. Paul Wingate has yet
to act on the new contract that I've offered you. By the way, in
everyone's room is a copy of
Vogue
. Sales reports are
already coming in and they are staggering."

If there was any one single thing that had
put Marlayna off Arthur Kingman, it was the cruel twist to his lips
when he didn't get his own way. Cruel. Yes, that was the perfect
word to describe the cosmetic king.

Marlayna was smart enough to know that this
man needed to be handled with the "kiddest" of gloves. She did not
want to be insulting, so she decided to be charming and evasive.
"Now, Arthur," her husky contralto strove to soothe, "since when
did you start mixing business with pleasure?"

She knew that she had gained the advantage
when his military stance suddenly drooped and his eyes no longer
stared into hers. She continued, "I'm sure you didn't know that
just two weeks ago I was on a hot, dusty, exhausting assignment in
the Mojave. And last week I did double duty, just so I could spend
some extra time here." Marlayna gave an inward wince and tapped her
index finger in the deep cleft of his chin. "Paul and I haven't
even had time to discuss the new contract."