Love's Fiery Jewel (35 page)

"It's good to see you again, Mrs. Dobbs. I'm very
happy to be home." Taking Amethyst's hand, he led her lightly up the steps. "I would like you to meet my ward,
Miss Amethyst Greer. She will be staying with us for an
indefinite period, and I would appreciate your making
her welcome."

Turning back to Amethyst, he said in a tone he hoped
held a fatherly note, aware as he was of the suspicious
gleam in the older woman's eye, "Come, my dear. I'll
introduce you to your new home."

Suddenly acutely aware of Amethyst's trepidation as
her trembling hand tightened convulsively in his upon
meeting the older woman's scrutiny, Damien longed to
comfort her. Did she not realize Philadelphia society had
come a long way from its Quaker influence? The war had
brought about a "new morality" to many of the maidens
of Philadelphia, allowing them a freedom in love affairs
which was curtailed only in marriage. Had he brought
Amethyst into the city as his mistress, she would have
been accepted by a general populace accustomed to the
open flaunting of such liaisons. But it was obvious from
Amethyst's reaction to the housekeeper's scrutiny that
she neither knew nor cared about the "new morality,"
and he would not allow her to suffer at the hands of selfrighteous gossip. He had no doubt in his mind that his
men would be silent with regard to Amethyst's sharing of
his cabin for the duration of the voyage, for each knew
the price he would pay for a slip of the tongue. It now
remained for him to settle to Mrs. Dobbs's satisfaction
the innocence of their relationship, as much as the deceit
rankled.

Acknowledging the presence of the bright young maid
and rotund older woman who had just appeared in the
doorway beside Mrs. Dobbs, Damien smiled.

"Hello, Harriet. It's good to see your smiling face
again. This is Miss Greer who will be staying with us for a
time." Turning to Amethyst he said by way of
introduction, "I'm sure you will find Mary a competent lady's maid and Harriet's cooking a complete delight."
Directing his next remarks to Mary, Damien continued
without waiting for a response,"I would appreciate your
showing Miss Greer to the guest room, Mary. She has had
a tiring voyage and would probably like to refresh
herself."

With a brief curtsy, the sturdy young girl smiled
tentatively in Amethyst's direction. Following Damien's
lead, Amethyst walked up the stairs quietly behind her.

Turning back to Mrs. Dobbs, Damien was aware of the
woman's displeasure. It was, after all, the duty of the
housekeeper to show the guest to her room, and she
obviously resented Mary's infringement on her authority.

Leveling his gaze, Damien addressed her directly as
soon as Harriet had returned to the kitchen, "Mrs.
Dobbs, I have arranged for a few moments privacy with
you for a very particular reason. Due to the unusual
circumstances of my guardianship of Miss Greer, it will
be necessary to guard her reputation with extreme care.
Her mother's unexpected death did not allow me time for
any immediate plans, but when such details are
completed, I should like Miss Greer to leave my
household with her reputation intact so as to inhibit in
no way my plans for her future. I will leave it to you to
make all arrangements necessary to achieve this end."

Obviously flattered by the confidence with which the
new responsibility had been placed on her shoulders,
Mrs. Dobbs's thin, colorless lips turned upwards in a
brief smile. Her high, nasal response was determined,
"You may rely on me, Mr. Straith. I will see to it that
your wishes are followed to the letter."

Nodding his head, Damien replied softly, "You have
my appreciation, Mrs. Dobbs. Now, if you will kindly tell
Harriet to prepare some light refreshment, I will go
upstairs and see how Miss Greer is faring."

"Of course, Mr. Straith."

Watching as the woman turned and headed toward the
kitchen, Damien smiled to himself. Well, so far so good.
"Straith, you are a devious bastard," he whispered under
his breath. "Let us only hope you have not, just now, cut
your own throat!"

Amethyst was startled! She had never expected that a
sea captain would be able to live in such luxury! While
the house did not match Sheridan Plantation's great
house in size, the furnishings by far surpassed those of
the great house in quality. In her nervousness, she had
seen little of the foyer, but the second floor was certainly
impressive. Having been ushered down a wide hallway,
past two doors which she presumed were bedrooms, she
was led to a third door, which, when opened, left her
gasping with surprise. The room was lovely! Of moderate
size, the walls were papered with a delicate blue silk
paper, obviously of oriental design, the varying azure
shades displayed so vividly, caught up and repeated in the
lushly patterned carpet that ran to the four corners of the
room. The furniture was finished in white with gold trim,
the delicately curved legs greatly enhancing its graceful
appeal. A huge canopied bed dominated the center of the
room, its blue satin bed cover and dust ruffle adding
immeasurably to its charm. A great white and brass
fireplace covered the wall opposite the bed, and in the
middle of the far wall French doors led out to some sort of
balcony. Moving curiously in its direction, she was about
to turn the knob when a deep voice behind her snapped
her around to see Damien's figure in the doorway.

"Mary, please go downstairs and tell Mrs. Dobbs we
will take our refreshment in the morning room."

As the short, stocky maid moved quickly through the
doorway, Damien approached Amethyst, his broad, virile
appearance ridiculously out of place in the extremely feminine room.

"Are you pleased with your room, Amethyst?"
Damien's query was perfunctory as he gazed at the
pleased surprise displayed so openly on her lovely
face.

"It is a beautiful room, Damien. I was just about to go
out on the balcony when you entered."

"Well, it is a bit cold to enjoy the view, but a short peek
is certainly in order."

Quickly opening the door, Damien ushered her out
before him, carefully watching her expression as she
surveyed the small walled yard and gardens.

"It is really quite lovely here in spring when the apple
blossoms are in bloom, but even more lovely in summer
when the roses are in full glory."

Turning to Damien, Amethyst shot a startled look in
his direction. "Somehow I never pictured you in this
setting, Damien. You always seemed so much a part of
the sea..."

Smiling at her incredulity, Damien stated with a grin,
"Well, I do need a place to spend my time when my ship
is in drydock. I'm happy you're pleased, Amethyst, for I
expect to be in port at least until spring. Neither my men
nor I fancy another bout with a winter gale so soon.
We've earned a rest."

Amethyst gave no response other than to turn back
toward the doorway and reenter the bedroom. When the
door was closed behind them and Amethyst had still not
responded, Damien continued quietly, "I have impressed
upon Mrs. Dobbs the importance of maintaining your
good reputation, Amethyst, because I know it means
much to you, and I have given you my word. But," he
continued, taking a step closer to look deeply into the
lavender eyes lifted to his, "I'll have you clearly
understand that as much as I dislike deceit, you may
expect my company more often than not in that lovely soft bed over there."

Catching her chin as she flushed deeply and attempted
to divert her gaze from his, he continued with a small
smile,"And as fatherly as my actions may appear for the
benefit of others, you may rest assured my feelings could
not be more the reverse."

A sound at the doorway brought an abrupt end to their
intimate conversation, eliciting a silent prayer of thanks
from Amethyst as she attempted to overcome the
trembling Damien's mere touch inspired within her.
Mary had entered and was attempting to light a fire in the
fireplace, and smiling at Amethyst's obvious discomfort,
Damien reached out to unfasten the cape she still wore
around her shoulders. Dropping it carelessly to the chair,
he then turned to remove the stocking cap, which found
the same destination. Turning back, a small smile formed
on his lips at the sight of his huge woolen sweater hanging
lankly on her petite frame.

"And certainly, the first thing on our agenda
tomorrow will be to get you some decent clothing. But for
now, my dear," the paternal endearment delivered with a
knowing wink behind the back of the hardworking Mary,
he continued heartily, "let me introduce you to the
remainder of the staff."

Amethyst stood at the wardrobe door, a small smile
flicking across her lips as her gaze rested momentarily on
the heavy cape and stocking cap pushed into the far
corner. Damien had declined their return when her own
custom wardrobe had begun to be delivered by the
impressive French couturiere, Madame duMaurier, but
the unlikely garments had served her well, and she was
strangely reluctant to consign them to the trash heap.
Still, they were in stark contrast to the dazzling array of
finery that now filled the ample space. At the end of her
third week in Philadelphia, Amethyst found her feelings toward Damien even more complex than before. Alternating between reluctant appreciation for the unaccustomed luxuries she enjoyed as a result of his
generosity, and the deep, burning anger that endured as a
result of his secret, unrelenting intimate demands, she
found herself in a state of complete confusion. But if
there was any salvation in their present arrangement, it
was the balm provided by Damien's irritation when
forced to outwait the cautious Mrs. Dobbs in his almost
nightly visits. Taking her responsibility very seriously,
the puritanical woman seemed to feel it her duty to
maintain a steady eye on Amethyst's door from the
moment Amethyst retired until far past the reasonable
hour for sleep. Her intense surveillance had forced
Damien to skulk around his own house in the dark of the
night, long after he would have preferred to retire, in an
attempt to share Amethyst's bed, and forced him back to
his own room far sooner than was his own inclination to
leave in the morning. Still, he had kept his word and
steadfastly maintained outward appearances for the sake
of her reputation.

Now, nearing the end of their first month in the large
house on Chestnut Street, they had been accepted as a
respectable part of Philadelphia society, and were
beginning to receive a steady stream of invitations to
social affairs. Reluctantly, Amethyst had to admit
Damien was a welcome addition to any affair, his dashing
appearance and surprising charm in great demand by
eager hostesses, who, she feared, merely tolerated her
attendance. But still, if the Philadelphia maidens were
not so keen on her addition to their ranks, certainly the
male sector of society seemed to find her presence
extremely stimulating. With a small chuckle, Amethyst
remembered the annoyance on Damien's face at the
attention she was receiving from some of the more
eligible bachelors. But in truth, Amethyst found most of the young men an inadequate challenge and at times a
considerable annoyance, and did not resent in the least
Damien's strict screening of her ardent admirers.

Her mind wandering aimlessly on thoughts of the
dinner party they were to attend that night, Amethyst's
eyes moved over the gowns in her wardrobe. Now
possessed of six new gowns, with several more on order,
she found it most difficult to decide which she was to
wear for each affair. Her brow knit in concentration,
Amethyst fingered the exquisite fabrics, inwardly marveling that such a dilemma should be hers. Having come
to her decision at last, Amethyst removed a pale lavender
velvet from her wardrobe. Madame duMaurier had
protested her selection of the color, stating lavender was
a color for mourning, but she had been adamant in her
choice. Too impatient to wait for Mary's assistance,
Amethyst slipped the elegant garment over her head.
Finally conceding she needed assistance as she struggled
in vain to secure the buttons on the back of the dress, she
summoned Mary impatiently.

Concentrating on her appearance as Mary worked
feverishly to secure the endless line of covered buttons
that stretched down her graceful back, Amethyst stared
into the mirror. Having scorned the efforts of the
fashionable Philadelphia hairdressers and their techniques of stiff wire forms and heavy pomades used to
stretch the hair up from the face into exaggerated
proportions and shapes, in many cases to be later
powdered until white and stiff, Amethyst preferred to
dress her hair herself. Piling the heavy, silky mass on the
top of her head in a graceful pompadour, Amethyst had
allowed a few curls to tumble down her back in
"calculated deshabille" as her mother had so frequently
termed the style. Her eyes moving to her gown, she
scrutinized the garment critically. The round cut of the
decolletage was complimentary, exposing only a hint of the now generous swell of her breasts, the delicate white
lace lying against her flawless skin and extending down
the front of her dress as far as her waist adding a touch of
elegance to the simple style. The sleeves, extending as far
as the elbow, ended in wide tiers of the same lace which
swayed gracefully as she moved. The bodice dipped to a
low point at the waist, and adjusting it uncomfortably as
Mary continued securing the buttons, Amethyst frowned,
finding it a trifle snug despite Madame's slight adjustment to enlarge the area only the week before. But the
small sign of displeasure vanished completely as she
surveyed the sweeping folds of the skirt which were
caught up provocatively with deep purple bows at several
points at the bottom to reveal tier upon tier of the same
lace that trimmed her neckline and sleeves. On her feet,
deep purple velvet slippers peeked out appealingly,
completing the perfection of the ensemble. Carefully
securing two small purple bows in the tumble of curls
that moved lightly against the nape of her neck,
Amethyst then reached for her new jewel case. Still
experiencing a thrill as her eyes touched on the sparkling
amethyst lavalier inside, she removed it carefully and
secured it around her neck. Fastening the matching ear
bobbs on her ears, she stood back to survey the total
effect.