Part 24 (1/2)
”Is it so hard to believe?” she asked, gently teasing. ”Of course, you can be a bully and a brute and you're jealous and you have a vile temper, but there's no accounting for tastes, after all.”
He closed his eyes, pulling her to him with shaking hands. She felt his mouth on her hair, and slid her arms around his waist, holding him tightly. He was murmuring love words, promises, endearments to the top of her head. They were all a low jumble of pure happiness to Cathy. She snuggled against his hard muscles, her mouth adoring his silk-covered chest, pulling his s.h.i.+rt out from the waistband of his breeches with hands that were not quite steady. She touched his warm flesh, ran her hands over the muscles of his back, her sensitive fingertips feeling the ridges of the scars he would carry with him to his grave. Her hands stroked lovingly, then stilled. He couldn't still believe. . . .
”Darling, you believe me now, don't you?” she whispered, pulling back from him a little so that he could hear her. He had to bend his head to catch her words.
”About what?” he smiled when she repeated her words. Cathy leaned back in the warm circle of his arms, studying his face lovingly. His eyes glowed at her, his expression gentler than she had ever seen it. She had tamed an eagle, she thought, intoxicated by the look and feel and smell of him, taught a fierce gray timber wolf to feed from her hand. The sensation was indescribable, the smile she returned to him dazzling. She was tempted to letall the unanswered questions slide until later, but she wanted to be sure that all the unhappiness was behind them.
”About what happened to you in prison,” she persisted softly. The muscles in the arms holding her tensed, the old guarded look returned to his eyes. Her heart was in her eyes as she watched these changes, andafter a moment he relaxed with an effort and smiled down at her, although his face was still somewhat strained.
”You don't have to find excuses for what you did,” he said steadily, his eyes burning with the flames of pa.s.sion.”Ideserved it, I know. What I did to you-kidnap, rape, forcing you to be my mistress-was unforgivable. If you love me now, that's all that matters. We'll never speak of what's past again.”
Cathy uttered a sound that hovered somewhere between a laugh and a cry.
”But, Jon, darling, I promise you thatIhad nothing to do with it! I didn't even know you were in prison, I swear. The 'Lady Chester' sailed for England the day after you escaped! How could I have known?”
”AfterIescaped?” he repeated disbelieving, his black brows drawing together in a frown. 'What are you talking about?”
”After we were married,” Cathy reminded him patiently, but accompanied the words with a reproachful look. 'You escaped. You can't possibly have forgotten!”
”My love, after we were married, and your father very properly knocked me unconscious for daring to snarl at you, I was in no condition to escape anywhere. I spent the voyage in the 'Lady Chester's' brig. When she docked in Portsmouth, I was taken in chains to London and thrown intoNewgate Prison. A couple of days later I was informed that I had been sentenced to death for the crime of piracy without even the courtesy of being allowed to be present at my own trial. If not for my men, I would even now be rotting in a limestone pit in the prison yard. The only escape I made was in London, that night I came to your aunt's house.”
”But I thought. . . .” Cathy's mind was in a whirl. How could this be? Before she could get her thoughts sorted a hard knock sounded at the door. Jon's arms tightened around her, his eyes questioning. ”Are you expecting a guest?”
”No, of course not.It's probably Martha-or my father.”
”Ah, yes.Your father. I have something I want to discuss with him.”
This speech was decidedly odd coming from a man who had only met her father once under unfavorable circ.u.mstances. There was something here that she did not understand. Cathy's face puckered in a puzzled frown as she went to open the door.
”Daughter, I need to talk to you. There's something you should know. . . .” Sir Thomas's voice trailed off as his eyes went past Cathy to touch on the tall man who was regarding him coolly from the other side of the room.
”Hale. I want you to know I would have sent for you. That's what I was coming to tell Cathy.”
”Papa, what are you talking about? Why would you have sent for Jon?” Cathy asked, bewildered, as she stood back to let her father enter. Sir Thomas ignored her as Jon's eyes bore into his.
”It was a lie, wasn't it? She had nothing to do with it, knew nothing about it.”
'Yes.” Sir Thomas's face was ashen, his eyes almost pleading with the implacable figure before him. ”She knew nothing.”
”Good G.o.d, man, I might have killed her!” The words were hissed from between clenched teeth.
”I know.” Sir Thomas sounded very tired suddenly. ”I was almost out of my mind when she disappeared. I'd just been informed that you had managed to escape, and I knew you had her. I thought. . . . G.o.d, what Ithought! But you didn't harm her, and I thank G.o.d for it.”
”You should. It was touch and go. I wanted to, but I couldn't. But. . . .”
”For goodness' sake, will one of you please tell me what this is all about?Papa? Jon?” Cathy looked from one to the other of them. Their cryptic conversation could have been in Greek for all the sense it made to her.
Both men looked at her, small and fragile-seeming in the dim lamplight, long golden hair swirling about her blue silk-clad form, a frown marring her lovely brow. Jon's eyes softened, glowed. Cathy smiled at him, a small intimate smile that she was barely conscious of. Sir Thomas watched them both, his eyes deeply troubled.