Love's Vengeance (42 page)

***

“Well Stephen for being your mistress, she seems very cool toward you. Are you sure you weren’t imaging the entire affair?” Vanessa laughed brightly after the older woman’s exit.

“I do not consider her my mistress Vanessa and an affair would better describe what you and I shared at one time in the distant past wouldn’t you agree?” Stephen snapped.

“Well for the closeness you claim to share it is hidden very well. She seems to enjoy Timothy though doesn’t she? But then I would guess they have much in common due to their age. She is rather young isn’t she?” Vanessa adjusted her bodice, drawing Stephen’s attention to her full bust.

“Not so young Vanessa—simply fresh and unhardened. You might do better for yourself if you could learn to draw in your claws a bit and learn a few manners in the future.” He rose from his seat and tossed his napkin upon the table, “I believe you can see yourself out. I have work to do.”

***

For some time Desiree urged her mount along the surf unaware of Timothy in even stride beside her. She was racing to flee the scene over breakfast that ran over and over again within her mind, just as the waves crashed over the beach, time after time, sending up fine droplets as hooves met the sea. The sun upon the water set it to sparkling and the hills about them were shrouded in vapor. The air felt heavy from a light rain that had fallen in the night and slowly Desiree felt her emotions coming under control as she took in the splendor about her. She reined her horse to a walk and Timothy slowed his mount beside her. She smiled warmly at him and then moved from the surf to the water’s edge, where she dismounted.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked with a chuckle. He stopped Sebastian and rested his arms across the horn of his saddle, watching as she took a seat upon the sand and began removing her shoes and stockings. She then jumped up and placed her shoes about the horn of her sidesaddle, tucking her stockings in the pummel.

“Tim take off your boots. Let’s walk a bit.” She said slapping at his foot. Bending over at the waist, she pulled her skirt forward between her legs and tucked it up in the fashion she had acquired at Nevis. She scampered into the water, kicking a spray toward him, “Come on—you won’t melt!” she goaded, loosing her hair and running her fingers through the braid, letting the tresses fly free in the warm breeze.

Tim turned his gaze, searching the bluffs and down the white sand beach. It wouldn’t do to be seen frolicking in the waves as his crew would never allow him to live it down. But they were alone and slowly he dismounted. He plopped down upon the sand and struggled with a boot, giving up and holding it up to Desiree.

“Could you help me please?” he asked with a grin, “I have a devil of a time with these.”

“Men! Helpless as kittens.” Desiree teased, scampering from the water and tugging his boot off easily. He removed his stocking, tucking it inside the boot for safekeeping and then set it aside and held up the other foot. Desiree was unable to get this boot to budge and with determination she put her whole weight behind it. With a mighty heave, the boot came off in her hand and she staggered back, her skirt coming loose from her waistband; clinging to her wet legs like a living thing and with a screech she fell backwards into the surf, as a wave rolled over her head.

“Ohhh…!” she sputtered, coming to her feet with her dress clinging to her shoulders and back and her hair a wet mass over her face.

“Good God Desiree! I am sorry!” Tim gasped, leaping into the surf to her aid. He broke into chuckles in spite of himself when she glared at him from beneath her dripping hair.

“You did that on purpose!” she growled, throwing her dress off her shoulders and pointing an accusing finger.

Wide-eyed, he shook his head, his laughter growing with her accusations, “No—no I swear it! My boot is ruined! Would I have done such a prank at the expense of my best boots?”

Desiree tossed the sodden boot in his direction, starting past him while he tried valiantly to bring his amusement under control and grab the boot from the surf before it sank. She stopped and turned back with a deadly glare and he attempted to sober and look concerned but then laughed all the harder for his effort.

Desiree shook her head, a smile creeping across her lips, “You fool!” she giggled. Then with both hands she flung herself against his chest, toppling him back into the knee deep water and with the force of the impact, she fell face first beside him. They both emerged laughing and Desiree sat beside him on the sandy bottom, with her dress floating about her in the surf and cupped her hands, splashing him.

“
Touché
Timothy!” she said with a giggle, arranging her sagging
décolletage
. She pulled her hair over the shoulders trying to hide her breasts, which were visible through the lightweight sodden muslin.

“You—Miss Chandelle, are a little devil!” Tim announced, pulling his shirt away from his skin with effort. He unbuttoned it, pulling it off and Desiree smiled faintly, admiring his lean frame, which was well muscled, bronzed and very similar to Stephen’s physique. In a few years he would rival his older brother, she mused silently.

Tim wadded the shirt into a small ball and removing his remaining stocking added it to the bundle then drawing back his arm he flung the clothing and his sodden boot toward shore—cursing as they left his hand for he realized what was about to take place, even before it did.

The bundle landed with a soggy thud before the two horses and the reaction was immediate. They leapt into the air with legs coming back to the ground, stiff and wide set. With eyes bulging and nostrils flaring, the steeds trembled and snorted and in terror they bolted, racing down the beach, heading for home and hurling a shower of packed sand from beneath their pounding hooves.

“Oh hell—Sebastian!” Tim shouted, racing from the water and holding out his arms pleadingly but the horses were well down the beach at a full gallop with tails flying high and no intention of returning. Tim turned back to Desiree who floated calmly in the rolling surf, watching her mount retreat.

“Wonderful
Monsieur
Colter.” She applauded him with grin, “Now what shall we do?”

Tim glared at her with his hands on hips, “This is all your fault! You—little troublemaker!” he laughed, breaking into a wide grin. He slapped at the sodden breeches clinging to his thighs, then noticed that the white material was plastered to his body, leaving him almost no modesty; every detail of his frame was visible. His mouth gaped open and Desiree’s eyes followed his and then she covered her face with her hands, feeling a blush come up to her cheeks as Tim cleaved the waves, diving in beside her.

“I would say,” he rasped, wiping his salt reddened eyes with the heels of his hands, “We have the makings of an enormous scandal.”

Desiree laughed in spite of the fact. So many times in the past she had found herself involved in a similar dilemma with one of her friends and the silly chain of events were so very typical. She couldn’t resist and engulfed Tim in an affectionate hug as they both broke into a fit of laughter and a wave crashed over their heads once more.

***

Tim pulled Desiree to her feet with one hand, while the other hovered before the front of his breeches for modesty’s sake and the two trudged slowly from the ocean. Tim bent and retrieved his shirt from the sand, turning his back while he tied the sleeves about his waist and draped the body of the garment across the front of his breeches.

As they walked, Desiree stooped along the beach, collecting a shoe here, a stocking there, which had been dislodged from the saddle with the rapid departure of her mount. Her wet skirt clung to her legs causing her to stumble and she drew it up before her, holding it across her arm.

Tim smiled softly when she caught him admiring her legs and she let it pass without comment, “Tim can I ask you something?” she questioned, taking his arm with a squeeze.

“Of course. What would you like to know?” he grinned happily.

“Tell me of Miss Haines and Stephen.”

Desiree saw the surprise on his face. He ran a hand through his golden hair, removing some of the water, “I do not like to carry tales Desiree. What specifically would you like to know?”

She could tell that he was uneasy with the subject, which made her more than a little leery of pursuing it further, “Are they involved with one another?” her voice was light, disguising her concern.

“Well I was under the impression Stephen was involved with you.” He stated softly.

Desiree did not commit one way or another on that comment.

“Is it because of this morning at breakfast? I will tell you now—Vanessa Haines can be very catty. She was trying to goad you and upset you.”

“No I think I handled her fairly well this morning, didn’t you?”

“Yes but I did sense that your words upset Stephen. His eyes were livid.”

“You still have not answered my question.” Desiree reminded him.

“To my knowledge they are not.” He stated honestly.

“Would you know if they were?” she pried further.

Tim stopped, turning to face her with his eyes narrowed and jaw askew as if trying to figure her out, “I don’t know why you are bringing this up but no—I usually am not kept informed of Stephen’s personal life.”

“I see.” Desiree said lightly, looking past him to the lush green jungle, “How long a walk do we have ahead of us?”

Tim turned his back to her, pointing to the sand dunes, “Maybe a half hour. Up and over—that will be the shortest route.” He grumbled, shaking his head, “We will probably have the entire island out hunting for us when our mounts return without us.”

“Oh no! Let’s hurry Tim. I don’t want to cause any worry!” she gasped, dragging him along the beach by his arm.

***

Stephen sat at his desk in the study, pouring over figures. He was finding it impossible to concentrate, adding the same column again and arriving at still a different total. His mind was on the scene caused by Vanessa at breakfast. Desiree had been so cold toward him and for the past few days her strange pensive mood had continued to grow. It was making him feel very unsure of her, of their entire relationship.

That last week of their voyage, he could have sworn he had her heart, almost certain that she was falling in love with him. He had racked his brain for a probable cause for her change in attitude since their arrival but could find nothing until the slight altercation with Vanessa at breakfast.

Perhaps she were having second thoughts about their relationship, deciding it was not what she wanted and was hinting that she would rather not continue. But why? What had he done that had changed her mind? He was totally baffled.

Now Vanessa, on the other hand, was as easy to figure as this column of numbers, more so he mused considering his current trouble with that task. She had come over this morning to—of all things, confront Desiree, as though Desiree were one of her catty sort. Thinking to have a war of words over who would better serve his needs. He could not imagine Desiree in such a bitchy fray, for she was simply too innocent.

He had been the first to rise for the day and had diverted Vanessa at the front door, leading her away from the house to have words. She had turned in a huff, vowing to find the opportunity and he had halted her, using the only threat that would dissuade her—vowing to turn his back on her completely and never welcome her presence again if she were to say or do anything to cause Desiree pain. She had thrown herself at him, asking him to steal away for a few minutes and had bestowed upon him her most flaming kiss. Her attempt to entice him had failed miserably and she had, in the end, succumbed to his demands, promising she would behave. He had been so generous as to invite her to stay to breakfast, only to have her set a few barbs after all.

“Captain Colter.”

Stephen looked up at a young lad standing at the threshold of the study.

“Mister Tim and the Miss—their horses returned some minutes ago—alone. They raced into the barn as if the devil himself was after them. I cared for them and put them up—they were in a lather—I thought you would want to know.”

“What the hell! Matt, saddle Sampson for me at once!” Stephen ordered, leaving the room at a jog as the boy dashed before him to do his bidding.

***

Stephen was rounding the drive from the stable, just heading for the front entrance but then skidded his mount to a halt and the horse trembled and pawed the ground wanting to be off and turning in circles; as Stephen turned in the saddle to get a better look at the sight before him.

Walking wearily up the drive with her shoes in her hand and her hair fanning in cascading waves about her waist, with clothes dirty and wrinkled, came Desiree leaning heavily upon Tim’s arm.

His younger brother was unclad but for his breeches, with a grimy shirt tied about his waist, his boots beneath one arm and stockings slung over his shoulder. Tim broke into a grin when he saw Stephen sitting with arms crossed upon his saddle, taking in their appearance with a stunned expression.

“Stephen! Wonderful day for a stroll don’t you agree?” Tim called jauntily affecting an aristocratic lilt to his voice.

Desiree could not suppress a giggle; the inflection in his voice was so idiotic.

“You look like drown rats. Tim what on earth happened?” Stephen raised an amused brow quizzically.

“I take only part of the blame.” Tim announced, pointing an accusing finger at Desiree who swatted it away.

“Please excuse me.” She begged, looking up to Stephen briefly. “I feel a need for a nice warm bath.” She removed her arm from Timothy’s and scampered up the drive turning and shaking a finger at him as she retreated, “Don’t you dare make it out my fault alone.” She warned.

Tim pointed at her fleeing back, “That lady—is quite something.” He slapped Stephen’s knee good-naturedly. “You would be insane to let her get away big brother.”

“I have no intention of letting her get away. What makes you say that?” he tilted his head in puzzlement.