Sea of Desire (21 page)

The request suggested a jaunt to the country
rather than the long trip it was, but Jared hadn’t taken the time
to eat a hot meal before he was galloping across the French
countryside. En route he repressed thoughts about why he’d rushed
off to Passy. But now, with his bootheels clicking a staccato on
the stone walk leading to the door, he knew.

He wanted to see Merideth Banistar again. Or,
if she was gone, at least have some word of her. She’d never been
far from his thoughts since he’d left. The sky reminded him of her
eyes; his cabin held her scent, so hauntingly strong on his pillow
that it kept him awake nights. He ached for her in a way he’d never
experienced before.

And he wanted it to stop.

If absence didn’t work, then he welcomed this
opportunity to see her again. Certainly she wasn’t as beautiful as
he remembered. Surely she had some flaw he’d yet to notice.
Besides, of course, the fact that she was a traitor to her country.
But Jared found that even knowing that didn’t quell his obsession
with her.

Pushing away those thoughts, Jared knocked on
the door. Evening had fallen, and the hallway was aglow with
candlelight when the servant answered. Jared was ushered into a
large room where murals of pastoral scenes in muted colors adorned
the walls. He had always considered his own home at Royal Oak
grand, but it didn’t compare to this.

“Ah, Captain Blackstone, you’ve come.”

Jared turned from his examination of one of
the paintings at the sound of Dr. Franklin’s voice. The older man
stood stooped over a gnarled walking stick. He carried a simple
felt hat in his other hand.

“I was just on my way to Madame d’Abbeville’s
soiree. Won’t you join me?”

Jared had not known what to expect from the
request that he come to Passy, but he hadn’t thought it an
invitation to a soiree. “I... I’m hardly dressed for socializing. I
rode from Morlaix as soon as I received your message.”

“Nonsense, Captain.” Franklin let his gaze
travel over Jared’s black waistcoat. Snug breeches were stuffed
into high black riding boots. “You look splendid. Besides, the
ladies expect us colonials to garb ourselves simply, and they love
it.” This last he said in a loud whisper, punctuated by a wink.

Jared had to admit, Franklin’s own clothes
were almost Puritanical in cut and cloth. With a shrug he followed
the older man, who obviously thought the matter closed, into the
hallway.

“Madame du Chaumont offered me the use of her
coach, so we needn’t walk. It isn’t far, perhaps three miles, but
my gout seems to be reminding me of its existence tonight.”

Jared helped Franklin into the coach, then
climbed in himself. When they were settled, he gave the signal to
the coachman to begin.

“Testy problem, old age,” Franklin began.
“The spirit is still so willing. ‘Tis the body that rebels.”

“You seem quite active.”

“Not nearly so much as I’d like.” After that
admission Franklin steered the conversation to a series of
inconsequential topics. The merits of Monsieur du Chaumont’s chef.
The unseasonably cool weather. The sexual exploits of his friend,
Madame de Beaumarchais.

The dialogue was interesting, but not once
did Franklin touch upon the two subjects of most interest to Jared.
Why had he been summoned to Passy? And what had become of Merideth
Banistar?

Finally, he could stand it no more. During a
lull brought on by Dr. Franklin searching his mind for a name,
Jared said, “I assume Lady Merideth has returned safely to Land’s
End by now.”

If Franklin was surprised by the abrupt
change of subject, he didn’t show it. Instead he smiled, that smile
that made Jared think he knew more than he pretended. “It would
seem such things take longer than I thought.”

“Do you mean she’s still in Passy?” Damn, he
hated that his heart was racing.

“Oh, of course. Didn’t I tell you? She’s
already at Madame d’Abbeville’s estate. She spent the day
there.”

“I thought she’d be home to England by
now.”

“Did you really?”

Jared couldn’t make out Franklin’s expression
in the dim light of the coach, but his tone was distinctly
skeptical. Jared had the uncomfortable feeling that the older man
knew exactly what he was thinking.

“She’s been quite a blessing, you know.”

“Has she?”

“Yes. She is wonderful with the boys. Don’t
tell her I said this, but I think both of them fancy themselves in
love with her.”

Jared remained quiet.

“Will especially. He rushes to fulfill her
every wish.”

“How nice for her.”

“Now Captain, don’t sound so cynical. Lady
Merideth is very careful not to take advantage. She gives much more
than she receives.”

By the way Franklin spoke of her, Jared would
wager Franklin’s grandsons weren’t the only ones who fancied
themselves in love. It was time to bring him back to reality. “Has
she mentioned the name of the American traitor yet?”

“What?” Franklin reached for his cane as the
coach slowed, brushing the inquiry aside. “Oh, no. I truly don’t
believe she knows anything about a traitor.”

“But her father said—”

“Yes, yes, I know what he told you. Let’s
speak of it no more tonight.” Franklin opened the coach door
himself and alighted before Jared could even reach out to assist
him.

They’d stopped before a lavish stone mansion.
Each one of its myriad windows sparkled with light, casting a
pale-yellow wash over a circular drive clogged with coaches. As
soon as the front door was opened, Jared could hear the melodic
sound of women’s laughter mingled with the strains of violins.

A spiral staircase led to the second-floor
ballroom. No sooner were they announced than two ladies with rouged
cheeks and nearly exposed bosoms approached Dr. Franklin. Each of
them grabbed an arm and pulled him into the room. Where the
butler’s voice had barely carried over the din of noise, the one
woman’s loud chatter did.

She announced for all to hear that the
beloved Dr. Franklin had finally arrived. Standing where he was
left when the women dragged away the ambassador, Jared watched the
proceedings with amusement. Though a fairly tall man, Franklin’s
entourage dwarfed him by virtue of their preponderance of powdered
hair and billowy gowns. They seemed to adore the old man, and,
judging by the liveliness of Franklin’s step, the feeling was
mutual.

More people were moving toward Franklin, and
Jared scanned the group, a smile etching his face. He realized he
was looking for Merideth, and he felt a stab of regret when he
didn’t see her. His focus broadened. Though the room was large, the
crush of wide silk gowns and humanity made it appear crowded. His
gaze skimmed across the dancers near the raised stage at the far
end of the room and froze.

She was dancing. Jared stopped himself from
moving toward her. Instead he watched, losing sight of her
occasionally as other dancers stepped between them.

She was more beautiful than he’d remembered,
and he was transfixed.

Her head tilted and she smiled at her
partner. Jared felt the air tingle as if a storm were approaching.
He swallowed and forced himself to look at her partner.

A dandy. No doubt about it. And a rather
conceited one, if Jared could tell from the way the gentleman
arched his bewigged head and looked down his large nose. He was
older than Merideth by at least three decades, but that didn’t curb
his lustful expression. Again Jared found himself fighting the urge
to move forward. He relaxed, crossing his ankles and leaning
against the silk-covered wall. What did he care how people looked
at her?
She
certainly didn’t seem to mind.

Jared let his attention stray back to Lady
Merideth. She was radiant. Her gown, an icy blue confection of silk
and lace, shimmered when she moved. She bowed, dipping forward, and
the candlelight pearled the soft skin of her shoulders and neck.
Her hair, undimmed by powder, shone golden, the curls piled
fashionably atop her head inviting exploration by a man’s
hands.

His hands.

Jared tightened his fingers into fists when
that thought struck him. The idea was ludicrous. Besides, if anyone
was apt to sample the delights of Lady Merideth’s locks, it was
more likely the partner graced by her sweet smile.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

Jared jerked around at the sound of
Franklin’s voice. When had he escaped the bevy of ladies paying him
homage? And why in the hell had Jared allowed himself to simply
stand there, staring at Lady Merideth? Denying it was impossible,
so Jared merely shrugged. “Aye. She appears to be enjoying
herself.”

“What?” Franklin drew his attention away from
another lady who smiled at the older man invitingly. “Ah yes, Merry
does like to dance. She didn’t know how, you know?”

Merry? “Nay, I didn’t know that.” She had
Franklin calling her Merry. And believing she didn’t know how to
dance. She was the daughter of a British peer, for God’s sake.

“There are most likely many things you are
unaware of,” Franklin said, softening the sting of his words with a
smile.

“No doubt, however—” Jared’s sentence was cut
off by another woman who moved up beside Ben. Unlike the other,
however, her lascivious gaze was fixed on Jared.

“Ben, my
ami
,” she began in halting
English. “Introduce me to your friend,
s’il vous plaît
.” She
leaned forward enough so that Jared could see the dusky crescent of
nipple above her gown.

His mind was momentarily distracted from
Merideth Banistar. After the introductions were exchanged, Madame
de Beaumarchais appeared faint from the wonder of meeting an actual
privateer, and a heroic one at that. Jared thought Franklin had
embellished his accomplishments a bit, but he didn’t object when
Madame said she needed a breath of air.

The curved balconies looked out over gardens
and fountains lit by hundreds of lanterns. The heady scent of
flowers drifted up as Madame de Beaumarchais leaned into his arm.
Invitation was written clearly in her brown eyes. Jared dipped his
head and her rouged lips parted.

It had been some time since he’d kissed a
woman. Not since Lady Merideth. He found himself thinking of the
last time he’d touched the Englishwoman as his lips met those of
Madame de Beaumarchais. She was an accomplished kisser, using her
tongue and teeth to advantage, pressing her breasts to Jared’s
chest.

He should have been aroused, powerfully so,
but the experience left him feeling empty. He didn’t want to be out
here. The dance was over; Jared could hear the fading strains of
violins through the closed door behind him.

With an effort, for one of her arms was now
tightly clamped around his neck while the other roamed down the
front of his body, Jared set her aside. Her expression of shock
matched his own disbelief. Was he losing his mind? Turning aside a
beautiful willing woman was not something he usually did. And
Madame de Beaumarchais
was
beautiful, though not as much to
his liking as others... one other.

When he suggested they return to the
ballroom, Madame’s smile grew chilly. She turned on her heels and
preceded him through the door, never looking back as she swept into
the crowd.

Across the room, Franklin pointed and said,
“Ah, there he is now.”

“Who?” Merideth followed the arc of Dr.
Franklin’s hand in time to see two people enter the ballroom. Her
breathing stopped. “Captain Blackstone,” she whispered.

Dr. Franklin chatted on to her about how the
American privateer had arrived while she was dancing, but Merideth
paid little heed. She watched the two across the dance floor.

By the Frenchwoman’s demeanor it wasn’t
difficult to deduce what had happened. Merideth had been forced to
turn down several amorous men since she’d been in France. The
surprising thing was that Madame had refused the captain’s
advances. She was known for her amours, and she certainly must find
the American captain attractive... anyone would. But at least
Madame de Beaumarchais had the good sense to rebuke him—something
Merideth hadn’t been able to do. In the past. But from now on it
would be different.

Merideth forced herself to remember that as
he strode toward them, dark and powerful amid the brilliantly clad
revelers. He was compellingly handsome. The shifting of flirting
eyes following in his wake told Merideth she wasn’t the only one to
think so. Even if Madame de Beaumarchais had refused his advances,
there seemed to be several ladies willing—nay, eager, judging by
the manner of their preening as he walked past them—to take her
place.

But his attention was riveted on her. Even
when the captain reached them, he barely glanced toward Dr.
Franklin.

“What are you doing here?” She hadn’t meant
to blurt out the question, but it was what she wanted to know.
Merideth wasn’t sure why his presence was so unsettling. She had
thought herself rid of him. Had worked on forgetting him, only to
look up and see him standing across the room.