Catch Me If You Can (10 page)

Eleanor sighed inwardly. The terseness between the two of them was revealing enough in itself. She hoped Miette wouldn’t probe too much, she didn’t think she could stand it. However, Miette smiled to herself as if she’d already decided what was afoot, then made introductions between Officer Simpkins and Mr. Rivers.

When the dinner gong sounded through the reception room moments later, Miette took the offer of Rivers’ arm, leaving the young officer to lead Eleanor to her seat.

She watched Rivers as he walked into the dining hall in front of them, the breadth of his shoulders making her want to touch him. She shook the notion off, and turned to the man at her side, forcing a smile. Stay focused. He’s dangerous.

To her great relief, Eleanor found Officer Simpkins was seated opposite her at the captain’s table, which would make it easier to keep her mind off Rivers and his whereabouts. Miette was stationed at the right hand side of the head of the table, next to the empty captain’s seat.

Freddie turned out to be a charming companion, and Eleanor reciprocated by parrying his every remark with a witty rejoin, trying to put thoughts of Rivers and his ill humor behind her.

The captain sauntered over to the table, offering his apologies to the assembled guests for his late arrival. He was about to sit down, then waved across the great dining hall to another table and walked off to greet someone. All eyes at the table turned to follow his passage.

“Why, Peter Rivers, I didn’t know you were traveling back with us,” he boomed.

An exasperated sigh escaped Eleanor. He’d gone to a table located some twenty feet behind her and had Rivers gripped in a fierce handshake, the two men clasping one another in greeting. Rivers made a quiet response to the captain that Eleanor couldn’t catch. The captain addressed the party whom Rivers was seated with and announced with great apologies his intention to take Rivers from their company.

Eleanor quelled her infuriation as the two men walked back toward her again. Was there no escape from his watchful eyes?

“You simply must be seated at our table,” the captain said, as they drew closer. “If I recall correctly I requested the
maître d’
serve wine from your family estate with the fish course tonight.”

Eleanor’s curiosity shot up.
His family estate?

She glanced around in time to witness Rivers give a genuine smile and a gracious nod in response to the captain’s remark. As if struck by the irony of the situation, his gaze flickered over to Eleanor and he gave a playful shrug of his shoulders, as if in direct response to her curiosity and annoyance.

His expression had warmed and the way he gestured to her was intimate and friendly. Eleanor couldn’t help herself. She smiled too.

“Peter Rivers,” the captain offered to the assembled guests at this table as Rivers took his place. “A fearless hunter, a dangerous man on the card table, a charmer with the ladies and an expert on wine. Good company to have and you should direct any questions or complaints regarding the selected wine of the evening to him.” 

A charmer with the ladies, indeed
, thought Eleanor, suddenly realizing how little she knew about Mr. Peter Rivers. When she glanced back, he was smiling in a decadent and self-assured manner. He turned to the assembled company and gave a brief bow.

“Captain O’Brian has exposed all of my weaknesses in one fell swoop. I hope, on that note, you find the wine of the evening appealing, or I shall be pilloried for the entire voyage.”

“I’m quite sure we will, Mr. Rivers,” Miette declared loudly. She was observing all the proceedings with a calculating eye and a devilish expression.

Eleanor sighed deeply. The situation aboard ship, it seemed, would be far beyond her control. She tried to focus on the stewards arranging another seat further down the table. Rivers’ new position was three seats to her left. At least she didn’t have to face him. She was aware of his presence, nonetheless, and the remarks the captain had made kept turning over in her mind. Her curiosity had been piqued. When the fish course was served and the wine waiter approached, she determined to glean more information. She glanced around. Rivers was turned the other way.

“The name of the wine,” she enquired of the waiter, in a low voice, when he bent to fill her second glass.

The youth jumped at the uncustomary comment directed at himself. Normally the diners were far too deep in conversation to notice he was refilling their glasses. When he made no move to answer, Eleanor reached up and tapped the white serviette he had wrapped around the bottle.

“Oh, beg your pardon, Miss.” He pulled the white napkin aside. “It says it’s a
pineau blanc
from California.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to know. Eleanor quickly scanned the parchment label before he covered it once more.

Riverside. Guillaime Vineyards

Guillaime?
How odd. The captain had declared it wine from Rivers’ family estate, yet she’d not heard mention of this name before. However, what did she know of him? Very little indeed. The realization made her heart sink a little.

She ushered the waiter on and sipped the wine. It was quite delicious, light and crisp and refreshing to the palate. She looked down the table in Rivers’ direction. Thankfully he’d not noticed the huddled conversation between her and the waiter. He was chatting to the lady beside him.

Chatting quite intently, she noticed, when she took the opportunity to glance around again. She took another swig of the wine. Let him, he was nothing to do with her anyway. She focused her attentions on the officer seated opposite. Toward the end of the meal, she locked Officer Simpkins’ eyes with her own as she slipped a delicious strawberry into her mouth. She noted the color mounting in his cheeks with pleasure. She wondered if Rivers could see them.

“I do hope you can ensure we have a smooth journey, Captain,” an imperious dowager boomed right along the table. “The last time I traveled, it was quite unbearable.” 

The captain gave a wry smile. “Unfortunately, Madam, I’m not in control of the weather itself. Especially at this time of the year, when storms can blow up without warning.” 

The dowager shook her ample shoulders in distaste. “‘Tis most disagreeable, when the sea is rough. All one can do is lay down on one’s bed in one’s cabin.”

At those words, Miette caught Eleanor’s eye, and winked at her in a most lascivious and suggestive manner. Eleanor giggled, then grasped her serviette and took it to her mouth in an effort to hide her gauche response. She felt light–headed and rather reckless, having had so much champagne and wine.

The dowager turned a frosty look toward her, which struck Eleanor as mighty amusing at the time and once again she tried to suppress her response. As she did the material of her borrowed gown ripped, loudly.

“Oh dear.” She swallowed nervously, a mite more subdued.

She could feel all eyes upon her. She was unable to look at Miette for support. Her friend would understand her predicament, but might worsen it. She focused, instead, on the man in front of her.

“I think that my gown has torn,” she explained, hoping that information would make everyone do the decent thing and turn away. Still they stared at her. “I’m afraid I must leave.”

Freddie Simpkins stared back at her, quite without understanding of the situation.

“Immediately,” she announced, a plea in her voice.

His expression remained blank.

Eleanor rose to her feet and pushed back her chair, only to find Rivers had also stood and moved to her side to act as her escort. She glanced again at Officer Simpkins.

He still remained completely oblivious of what his appropriate actions should have been, despite the fact Rivers was clearly demonstrating it for him.

“I’m not surprised, young lady, your gown is far too tight,” the dowager bellowed down the table at that moment, holding a monocle up to her eye, and sweeping Eleanor from head to foot with a disapproving stare.

Eleanor risked a quick glance at Miette, but she was looking quite the other way, in order not to embarrass herself also. Eleanor pressed her lips together, nodded briefly at the rest of the table, and turned to take Rivers’ arm. They had barely escaped the grand dining hall when she collapsed against the wall of the corridor in peels of laughter.

Rivers stared at her, smiling. “My dear Eleanor, you are full of surprises. I cannot imagine a single dull moment in your company.”

His tone was teasing.

“I’m sorry.” She gasped for breath. “I fear I’ve had too much wine.” She looked up at him, trying to regain her composure, aware that she didn’t want to appear unseemly in front of him. “Do you think me very silly?”

“No, not at all.”  The warm, amused expression in his eyes reassured her. He offered his arm again.

“I’m glad,” she sighed, then glanced over her shoulder. As she did the fragile garment tore once more. Rivers gave a husky laugh then took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders to conceal the travesty.

She nestled into it and let him usher her down the corridor to the staircase.

By the time they reached the door of her cabin their mirth had begun to subside and she was able to explain Miette had insisted she borrow the dress, despite the fact it was too tight.

Rivers looked down at the swell of her cleavage and murmured a gentle, tutting sound. The warmth between them was intensified in the quiet intimacy of the corridor. Eleanor swayed gently in time with the ship’s motion and put one hand against his crisp white shirt to steady herself.

“Thank you for your gallant behavior, Rivers,” she said, softly, looking at him from under her lashes. “Under the circumstances, it was most kind of you to escort me to my cabin.”

“It was my pleasure.” 

They stood in silence, both aware that they had somehow got back nearer to where they were before, on the edge of something, yet neither quite sure what.

Although she didn’t understand why, Eleanor wanted to ensure that they didn’t lose this feeling again. “I do hope I’ll see you again during the voyage?” 

Her defenses were lowering. She knew that but she couldn’t help it.

“Yes, yes,” he responded. “Perhaps we could take a walk together soon about the decks?”  He acknowledged her concession, respected it.

“That would be delightful,” she replied. “Tomorrow afternoon?”  She presented her hand for his lips. She noticed he let his mouth linger on the back of her hand, while he breathed against her skin. Her fingers closed over his, a gentle squeeze ensuring him that his desires were indeed reciprocated.

“Tomorrow it is.” His response and the look of passion in his eyes made her feel quite irresponsible.

Be careful
. It was a whispered reminder inside her mind.
He’s a dangerous man with an ulterior motive.
She smiled and nodded.

When he released her hand her fingers were fidgety and restless.

He bowed his head, turned and walked away.

She watched him retreat down the corridor, standing at the door to her cabin for several moments longer, pondering the situation, before going inside.

Chapter Eight

The Lady Learns

When she heard the tap on the door some time later, Eleanor wondered for a split second if it was Rivers, thinking he’d come back. Remembering Miette’s promise to meet later in the evening, to discuss events, she quickly dismissed the idea.

Miette smiled when Eleanor opened the door, one finger pressed delicately against her lips, indicating there were others still about. In her other hand she carried a small silver hipflask.

“You have glasses?” 

“I believe so. If we must have some, please make it a sniff for me, I’m quite well enough inebriated as it is.” Eleanor shut the cabin door behind Miette and fetched the glasses from the tallboy cabinet. It housed some crockery and other home comforts, such as notepaper and pens and the latest daily shipboard newsletter inserted in a bound cover.

“Oh, Eleanor.” Miette strolled about the cabin, gesticulating with the silver flask. “I’ve never found it so difficult to maintain my composure, most amusing. You looked quite mortified, my poor darling.”

Eleanor smiled, remembering the scene.

“How lucky your friend Mr. Rivers came to your rescue,” Miette added, with a decidedly suggestive undertone. She cocked her pretty head to one side and observed Eleanor. “I half expected to find him here with you.”

She fingered the lace of the abandoned evening gown that lay over a chair.

Eleanor curled up on the bed in her nightdress, playfully thoughtful. She recalled the way he’d lingered over her hand. “Perhaps I could have had him as my companion, if I’d wanted.”

Miette joined her, sitting on one side of the bed, curling her legs under her and spreading the ruched skirt of her gown across the bedcovers. “Well, tell me everything. Who is he? Have you seduced him yet? If not, why not?”

Eleanor lolled back on the bed, delighted laughter escaping her. “Miette, you are quite, quite disgraceful.”

She couldn’t help smiling to herself though, imagining it could happen. Would she ever be able to act upon her desires though, with a man such as him – or any other, for that matter? Her confidence had taken rather a knock after their encounter in Southampton.

“Is it not the most wonderful thing to seduce a man, to surprise him with your prowess?” Miette curled up beside her.

Eleanor pondered the question with her eyes downcast. She didn’t want Miette to realize she wasn’t quite as sophisticated as Miette assumed she was. “Yes, I suppose…there has to be something there first though, a mutual attraction.”  

“They are soon attracted when they realize what it is you want.” Miette’s tone was cynical.

“There has to be more to it than that, surely. That sounds too cold.” 

“I suspect you are becoming somewhat of an old romantic, Eleanor?”  Miette eyed her speculatively. “What happened to the young woman who refused to be tied to any man, hmmm?”

“Oh, quite so, I refuse it still.” Eleanor frowned, finding herself quite at odds. “I feel that to be close to a man, there must be something strong, overwhelming.” Her voice drifted. “What about you, and your husband, Frank? Do you feel that way with him?”

Miette shrugged. “It is a form of business arrangement, our marriage. He’s a wealthy man and busy too. He’s worked hard to make himself a good life in America and he wants beautiful, expensive things all around him. I’m one of those things.”

“Oh,” Eleanor responded, sadness descending on her at her friends’ confession.

Miette smiled at her. “Don’t fret my darling, for it suits me well. Frank has his mistress and I’m free to do as I wish, as long as I’m discreet.”

Eleanor supposed that being discreet meant Miette wouldn’t confide who overwhelmed her with desire. Eleanor had never known anything as overwhelming as the presence of Peter Rivers – that was the truth of it.

The notion of seduction still edged into her thoughts. She would have to get to know him better first, for she hardly knew a thing about him. Why, she’d learnt more about him in a few comments from the captain than she’d known before, how strange that was. She knew little about his time before working with Frieda, and nothing at all of his love life, although he had the confident air of a man skilled in the ways of seduction.

He was attracted to her too, she was fairly sure. He seemed controlled though, as if he were watching her all the time, listening and knowing her. He would have the upper hand if she pursued a friendship, or more, she realized. He might dupe her with his ulterior motives. Could she partake of his company and remain steadfast to her own plans?

It was a challenge, to be sure, but Eleanor didn’t shirk from challenges.

“Have you ever failed in an attempt to seduce a man?” she asked, as her mind wandered.

“Yes, once, only once. He wasn’t attracted to women, only to men.” Miette sighed. “Alas.” She turned and patted her hand. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry, that Mr. Rivers and the handsome young officer are both attracted to you.” 

Eleanor frowned. “Officer Simpkins? He’s handsome, but could be a little…taller.” 

“I suspect you have a certain man in mind that fits this ideal?”

Eleanor lowered her eyelashes demurely.

“One that would leap to your aid should your gown fall apart?”

“I don’t want him,” she lied. “He’s arrogant and opinionated. He thinks I’m a feeble sort of a woman.”

“If that’s the case, you should prove him wrong. Take him, Eleanor, I challenge you. If you don’t, I may perhaps decide to have him for myself.” She laughed wickedly when Eleanor turned to look at her in surprise, and pointed a finger at her accusingly. “You cheated, Eleanor, you brought a man aboard to seduce already, which is not part of the deal.”

Eleanor found herself completely thrown by the remark, for there seemed little she could say in her own defense without sounding as if she were possessive about Rivers. The realization left her in a state of confused anxiety.

“I’ll leave him for you, but you must share with me all the details of your conquest.”

“Maybe,” Eleanor managed, and they touched their brandy glasses together before draining them and lying back on the pillows. After a few moments Miette sat up, reached forward and kissed Eleanor lightly on each cheek. She climbed up from the bed.

“I must hurry. The captain awaits my company.”

Eleanor was startled. Miette had chatted leisurely with her, drank brandy and speculated on the art of seduction, and all the while the captain himself had been awaiting her company. Miette was apparently even more mischievous than ever.