The Elusive Flame (31 page)

The taller and older of the two gaily explained the reason for their presence in the city. “We came to shop, Beau, but when we heard that your ship had been sighted,
we had to hurry over, if only to catch a glimpse of our brother before he sailed off again.”

“Now, Suzanne, it’s not as bad as all that,” Beau protested, chuckling. Then he stood back with arms akimbo and a grin that nigh split his face as he perused the smaller one. “Brenna, you’re looking quite mature nowadays. And what? No pigtails?”

“Humph!” The young black-haired, blue-eyed beauty tossed her bonneted head with feigned exasperation at his teasing. “I’ve never had pigtails, Beauregard Birmingham, and you know it! And if you’d care to remember, dear brother, I’m now ten and six, definitely old enough to be mature.”

“It seems the last time I saw you, you were stumbling over your own feet, but it certainly seems as if you’ve acquired more grace since then. Now tell me, are you still being chased by all the landed gentry in the area?”

“Oh, hush, you rascal!” Brenna chided with a pretty pout, and then wildly exaggerated her predicament. “You know Papa pulls out a gun every time he sees a potential suitor approaching. I swear I’ll
never ever
be able to get close enough to a man to even decide whether he’s handsome or not with Papa always standing guard.”

“Believe me, dear sister, he has every reason to protect you with such dedication,” Beau assured her jovially. “As a man, I can vouch for that.”

“Oh, you men are all alike,” she fussed sweetly. “You defend each other with unswerving dedication, and saints preserve the woman who’ll argue with you.”

“When you’re older and
wiser,
my dear, you’ll be appreciative that Pa is so dedicated about protecting you. If not for him, the rakes will see you as a tempting morsel just waiting to be devoured.”

Brenna took exception to his remark. “I’m not
unwise
now.”

“Let’s just say that you’re not experienced enough to handle men who are more worldly.”

“It takes one to know one, I suppose,” she declared
with a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “You and Pa are certainly chips off the same block.”

“Perhaps,” Beau acknowledged. “But then, I’ve heard him say that you’re the very image of Mama when he first saw her.”

“Yes, and she wasn’t much older than I am right now when she married Papa, but left to him, I’ll be an old maid of twenty ere he lets a gentleman come calling.”

“I thought Mama was closer to eight and ten when she got married,” Beau prodded with a grin.

“Well, I’m almost that,” Brenna claimed, and quickly stuck her tongue out at him.

“What did Mama say about that?” Suzanne scolded her younger sister, and then sighed heavily, as if nearing wit’s end. “You’ll never be considered anything but a naughty little girl until you stop embarrassing us like that.”

“Oh, you’re always so staid, Suzanne,” Brenna complained. “A body would think you’re my mother.”

“Girls, girls!” Beau gently rebuked, breaking into their tiff. “Stop your fussing. It isn’t becoming.” As his sisters scowled at each other, he lifted his gaze to search for the slender form of his wife. Perhaps by renewing acquaintances with his family, Cerynise wouldn’t be inclined to think him an ogre or be so intent upon flying away like a singed bird. “Besides, I have someone to whom I’d like to reintroduce you.” Taking each by the arm, he led his sisters across the deck to Cerynise. Even before he reached out to take his wife’s elbow, she was already turning to face him.

“Cerynise, these are my sisters, Suzanne and Brenna.” Sweeping a hand toward her, he turned to his younger siblings. “I’m sure you both remember the Kendalls. Well, this is Marcus Kendall’s daughter, Cerynise.…”

“Cerynise Kendall, of course!” Suzanne cried, briefly taking the younger woman’s hand in her own. “You used to come to Harthaven with your father, but my goodness, you’ve changed so much! I’d never have known it was you if Beau hadn’t told us. But what are you doing here?
The last we heard, you were sailing off to England to live with that lovely Mrs. Winthrop.” Suzanne turned black-lashed green eyes to scan the deck in search of the tall, dignified elder whom she had always considered a figure of stately grace. “Did she come with you?”

“No, I regret to say that I’ve come alone,” Cerynise answered quietly. “Mrs. Winthrop died shortly before my departure from England.”

“Oh, Cerynise, how tragic for you! We’re so sorry,” Brenna said sympathetically, gathering Cerynise’s fingers in her own. “But we’re so delighted to see you again. You must come out and visit with us at Harthaven after you get settled.”

Cerynise became aware of Beau stepping behind her. Perhaps it was some shared understanding that did truly link her mind as well as her heart to the man, for every instinct within her screamed a warning that he was just waiting for an opportunity to introduce her as his wife. She could foresee the confusion that would cause.

Brenna gave her brother no opportunity to break in as she continued her reminiscing. “I remember, Cerynise, how clever you were with a paintbrush when we were attending that girls’ academy together for a time. The thing I recall most about your paintings was the fact that they always looked like their subjects. Even back then, I longed for you to paint my portrait, but I was a year or two younger than your circle of friends, so I never dared ask. Do you still paint?”

“Like Rembrandt,” Beau volunteered with a grin.

“Oh, how exciting!” Brenna cried, her sapphire blue eyes flashing with enthusiasm. “I must tell Papa! Just recently I heard him say that he wanted to have Mama’s portrait painted with her daughters, so now I can inform him that we’ve found an artist who can do it to his liking.”

Cerynise smiled at the girl’s ebullience, but she thought it prudent to handle the matter delicately, lest they all be caught in an embarrassing situation. “Perhaps you shouldn’t press your father unduly until he can see what
I’m capable of. He may not even like my work and would prefer to hire another artist for such a task.” The greater distance she could put between the Birminghams and herself, the better off she’d be, Cerynise decided, for they would only remind her what she’d be missing after her marriage to Beau was dissolved. As a girl, she had been made to feel very much at home by the cordial hospitality of the Birminghams, and at times she had even dared to imagine herself their daughter by marriage. Since that was definitely not going to be the case, she preferred not to suffer the anguish of knowing they could have been, if only…

“If Beau says you paint as well as the masters, then we suffer no doubt that you’re among the best,” Suzanne assured her with a friendly chortle. “If you’re not aware of it yet, our brother has quite an eye for excellent art. But we’ll let you get settled before we start pestering you about painting us all. Will you be staying with your uncle?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid he isn’t aware of that yet.”

“Which reminds me,” Brenna chimed in. “Beau doesn’t yet know what’s in the wind for our family.”

“Doesn’t know what?” Beau queried a bit suspiciously. At a very early age he had learned that there were always surprises in the Birmingham family.

“Suzanne is engaged to be married,” Brenna announced happily. “Michael York finally bought that plantation a mile or two down the road, and as soon as everything was finalized, he came over, asked Papa for Suzanne’s hand and then went down on his knees to propose to her. Oh, it was so exciting watching them from the doorway.…”

Suzanne was clearly astonished. “Brenna, you didn’t!”

“Oh, I did!” Brenna confessed proudly before she faced her chuckling brother again. “The middle of April we’ll be having a ball to celebrate the occasion. You’ve come home just in time to set all the young ladies aflutter with similar dreams of engagement balls and such.…”

“Well, actually I’m already…” Beau began, but he
had no time to finish as Mr. Oaks stepped near and touched his arm to claim his attention.

“Forgive me for intruding, Captain, but there’s a man over here who seems to be serious about buying all the furniture you’ve brought back.”

“But how can that be?” Beau asked in amazement. “He hasn’t even seen any of it yet.”

“Aye, but he knows what you brought back last time, and he came too late to even get a pedestal from the last bunch. He’s quite adamant about speaking with you about it now, Captain, before someone else starts buying it off.”

Brenna laid a hand upon her brother’s sleeve. “We won’t keep you any longer, Beau, but we shall expect to see you later tonight. Mama will be thrilled to hear that you’re back, and of course, you know that she’ll be wanting to see you before the sun sets.” Her lips curved with a teasing smile as she launched into other outrageous speculations. “You always were the apple of her eye, you know. Her little baby. Why, the way she prides herself in her firstborn, anyone would think your birth was something special.”

“Now, don’t be jealous,” Beau reproved, chuckling softly as he settled a doting kiss upon her forehead. He bestowed the same on Suzanne before facing Cerynise. “I shouldn’t be too long,” he murmured before stepping away with Mr. Oaks.

Cerynise said her own farewells to the two sisters, who again encouraged her to come out fairly soon to see them. She nodded, but she knew that wouldn’t be anything she could easily do. Visiting them would bring more pain than she could bear.

The deck was now crammed with people, and with Beau occupied elsewhere, Cerynise found it a favorable time to make good her escape. It was far better to make a clean break before her distress over leaving Beau encumbered her heart. She knew to say farewell to any of the seamen would likely see her undone emotionally, and as much as she wished to thank Mr. Oaks, Billy, and all of the others
for their kindness to her, she’d have to write it out in a missive and send one to each, for she didn’t want to embarrass herself by breaking down in front of everyone.

No fancy carriage awaited Cerynise, nor did she have the coin to hire one. Alone, she made her way through the jostling crowd until she reached a spot well back from the wharf where she could pause to calm the sudden queasiness that had come upon her in the crush of people. Looking back at the graceful vessel, she felt a piercing regret that she wasn’t still there, patiently waiting for her husband to conclude his business so they could leave together. Such wayward thoughts made her eyes sting, but she blinked away the start of tears, refusing to indulge her melancholy. Yet, in spite of her efforts, a deepening forlornness intruded, and with a dispirited sigh she averted her gaze and, hefting her satchel, began to make her way along a familiar lane that led away from the docks.

Sterling Kendall’s house was set just within the boundaries that had once been marked by the city’s walls, and although those particular defenses were now gone, their influence had nevertheless remained amid the cobblestone lanes that had been laid out during the first tentative stirrings of the city. Her uncle’s residence was on one such lane, set back from the busier streets and made even more secluded by the fact that only one nondescript side of the house faced the lane itself. The other three were enclosed within a walled garden that, apart from his beloved books, was his greatest pride. Cerynise had many fond memories of having visited the pleasantly modest house with her parents on innumerable occasions.

Cerynise paused on the opposite side of the lane from the same structure to await the passing of a lorry, then she slowly traversed its width. Now that her long-awaited homecoming lay before her, she found herself overtaken by uncertainty. What would her uncle’s reaction be to her unexpected arrival? When it came to explaining the circumstances by which she had returned, would she find
Sterling Kendall as tolerant and forbearing as she had hoped?

Her increasing anxiety over the kind of welcome she would receive slowed her approach, and with heavy heart, Cerynise swung open the wrought iron gate. A seashell path led her through an extended trellis that had, over the years, become almost lost beneath trailing vines of Carolina jasmine. The vine hardly looked its best now in winter, but she remembered the delectable scent that wafted from it in warmer months. She broke off a dead twig as she passed beneath, and then fixed her eyes on the portal. Her hand trembled as she reached out to lift the brass knocker, but she paused, searching for the courage to face her uncle unashamedly.

A clatter of hooves on the cobblestone lane behind her made her turn, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Beau pulling a snorting stallion to a halt near the gate. He swung down and, after looping the reins over the riding post, strode toward her. One quick look at his face convinced Cerynise that he was absolutely furious with her. Not only were his eyes glinting with icy shards, but the muscles in his cheeks were tensing and vibrating to a degree that she had never seen before.

“Just tell me one damn thing!” he growled upon reaching the step where she stood. “Was it too much for you to wait and let me serve as your escort? It was my intent, you know. Or have you become so impatient for the annulment that you couldn’t wait to leave me?” Beau’s frustration was supreme, and yet he couldn’t entirely decipher where it was centered. The pact that they had mutually agreed upon three months ago called for the termination of their marriage soon after their arrival in Charleston. According to that bargain, she could go her separate way. The fact that she had, had cut through his heart like a knife, leaving him with a dark sense of having been betrayed, like a husband whose wife had just taken off with a secret lover. He knew he was being unreasonable, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. Even if their marriage
had only been a travesty, he had gotten too comfortable with the idea of her being his wife. In spite of all his past qualms about being tied down to a wife and family, he was reluctant to let her go and see it all end without making some effort to hold her to him. “Is it really your design to provoke every contrary emotion I’m capable of feeling? Is that what you’re doing?”

Agog with an unwilling fascination at the fury of her handsome husband, Cerynise blurted out an answer totally unrelated to his question. “I was just about to knock on the door.”