Commanding Heart Part 3

"Good evening, gentlemen," Catherine said innocently; "Shall we depart?" At her honeyed words, duMont turned an even angrier shade. Through gritted teeth duMont ground out a reply; "Of course we cannot leave just yet, Miss Gibson. You have not completed your preparations." William Gibson, who had been watching duMont's reaction in confusion, finally looked at his daughter and recognized the source of his friend's anger. "d.a.m.n it, Catherine!" he blasted at her with venom, "How could you have forgotten M. duMont's gift, you thoughtless girl." This time, Catherine turned her silky charm on her father; "I have not forgotten the trinket, dear Papa" she said with antagonizing sweetness, "I do not choose to wear it this evening." Catherine felt her knees tremble as she spoke; what she was doing was beyond careless a it was suicide. She looked at the growing rage in her father's face and knew in an instant that she had gone too far. William Gibson lurched forward and grabbed Catherine's arm in a punishing grip. Catherine was shocked by the violence of his action, at the sight of the angry spittle forming at the corners of his mouth. A tremor of fear ran through her body but she fought to hold her ground.

It was to no avail.

With rough jerking motions, William Gibson dragged his daughter unceremoniously up the stairs and down the hall to her room. Catherine slipped several times, losing her footing, but Gibson did not slow in his ruthless march. He pulled her along in his wake like she was a rag doll. When they reached Catherine's room he threw her violently inside, and began looking round like a madman. "Where is it, d.a.m.n you!" he shrieked. "What have you done with the necklace?" Before the terrified Catherine could speak, her father began searching her dressing table, then her nightstand, knocking everything over in his quest for the gem. Finding nothing, he turned at last to Catherine's writing desk. Catherine stepped forward quickly, her arm outstretched to stay his progress. Gibson sneered knowingly at her response and upended the entire desk in one brutal motion. The elegant piece crashed to the floor, splintering apart with a horrible crash. The contents of the desk spilled forth in a mad tumble; papers, pens, trinkets and ribbon scattering across the floor at her father's feet. Catherine froze, her breath caught in her throat; there, among the debris, lay her many sketches of Captain John Knight.

At first, in his fury to find the necklace, Gibson did not register any detail of the sketches. He kicked at the rubble before getting to his knees to search for the pendant, moving the sheets impatiently to discover what lie beneath. As the images acc.u.mulated, however, Gibson slowed in his progress, finally recognizing the secret he held in his hand. He gathered the papers, s.n.a.t.c.hing at each with icy fury. Gibson returned to his feet, several sketches of Captain Knight clutched in his hand: "You worthless b.i.t.c.h" Gibson said with wrath, "What is the meaning of this?" he finished hotly, shaking the papers in Catherine's face. Catherine was terrified but she would not respond to his low behavior. She tilted her chin angrily and refused to answer his accusation.

Catherine soon regretted her actions. Gibson stepped closer and grabbed her once more; "If you think for one moment that I will allow this... this... insubordination any further, you are more stupid than I believed possible." He drew Catherine closer, his angry breath fanning her face, and then threw her bodily to the floor. Catherine landed with a crash among the broken desk and its scattered contents. Her arms were already showing bruises from his rough handling and the fall wrenched her ankle quite badly. She looked up at Gibson with a mixture of contempt and shame a he was not her father. No father could treat her as he did now. They were complete strangers and ever would be.

"Find that G.o.dd.a.m.n necklace" Gibson said in a voice like cold steel.

Catherine did not challenge this ruthless man any further. There was no familial affection in his heart whatsoever, no basic human decency to appeal to for mercy. Catherine had no option. She lifted herself gingerly from the floor and searched the destruction for the necklace she knew was there. In moments, its wicked gleam shone forth at her from deep within the pile of rubble. Catherine lifted the weighty pendant and rose to her feet. With trembling hands she opened its clasp and placed the oppressive chain round her own neck. Without a word, she limped forward from the destruction and grimly followed her father downstairs to rejoin Monsieur duMont.

Chapter XXI.

Catherine's ordeal did not lessen as the night progressed. Fervently she hoped the brutal private scenes would abate on reaching the Governor's ball; a public place and the presence of others must provide temporary shelter from the two men by her side. The reality was quite the opposite. Catherine's father left for the gaming tables as soon as they arrived, leaving her in the power of Monsieur duMont. He roughly steered the unfortunate young woman inside, making it abundantly clear that she would not escape him this evening. Instead of the solitude and anonymity she hoped to find in the crowded room, Catherine was instead the object of gossip and speculation. Philippe duMont paraded her before all and sundry, wearing her on his arm like an ornament, leaving no one in question about his intentions. Time and again Catherine was presented to acquaintances of her father's and of duMont's; time and again she made the same half-hearted replies to their questions; time and again she endured quizzical glances and whispered t.i.ttle-tattle as she turned to go. Catherine's humiliation was complete.

In the glittering main ballroom, the musicians made ready for the dancers. Catherine braced herself for the next of her punishment. She knew without a doubt that duMont would lead her to the floor, making a suitable spectacle of them both. At the thought her face burned with anger and the heat of tears p.r.i.c.ked at her eyes. Catherine turned away from her companion and shifted the great pendant uncomfortably; its bulky weight pressed against her collar bone like a prisoner's chain, a constant reminder of her bondage. A slight touch at her elbow made her jump, making the pendant bounce heavily against Catherine's heart. She turned, expecting duMont, but to her amazement she was met by the smiling face of her uncle.

"Matthews!" Catherine cried with abandon, throwing herself into his arms with no thought of propriety. "Catherine! My own dear girl" he replied warmly. The lieutenant lifted her off of her feet in an enormous hug and spun her in a circle. Catherine laughed aloud with relief and joy, unconcerned by the many looks they were receiving. "How do you come to be here?!" she cried delightedly. "I had no thought that we might meet tonight!" Matthews gave her a good natured grin; "Do you not think a polished officer such as me is a fine addition to a party?" he asked laughingly. Catherine gave him another embrace but was pulled away almost at once. Philippe duMont stood behind her, his hand firmly upon her arm, a grim smile on his face as he took in the sight of Lieutenant Matthews.

"I do not believe we have been properly introduced," Matthews said to duMont with great charm. "I am Lieutenant Robert Matthews, Catherine's uncle." He gave a sweeping bow, doffing his bicorn with relish. Catherine stared in surprise at her uncle's welcoming speech and generous manner with duMont. Something was amiss here but she could not tell what. What game was her uncle playing at? Philippe duMont seemed to have similar suspicions, but surrounded by curious onlookers, he had no option but to match Lt. Matthews' courtesy: "It is a great pleasure to meet Catherine's uncle, and such a brave sailor of His Majesty's Navy" duMont returned with a forced smile.

The musicians now began to play in earnest and several couples moved to the floor in unison. Catherine stiffened anxiously but relief was at hand: "Catherine, my dear" Matthews said loudly, "I believe our intended dance aboard HMS Triton was forgotten when those French knaves hove in view and we had to give chase!" Catherine could feel duMont bristling beside her at Matthews' words. The lieutenant made no apology and continued cheerily: "Well, there is nothing to stop us now, my fine girl. Come take a turn with your uncle!" and with that, Lieutenant Matthews led Catherine away from duMont before he could offer any protest.

When she reached the dance floor Catherine had to stifle the urge to laugh. At the side of the room duMont stood glaring; in front of her danced Uncle Matthews, grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary. The two things were so incongruous that she could only smile. As they pa.s.sed one another in the steps of the dance, Uncle Matthews leaned toward her and whispered with urgency; "You must attend to what I say Catherine and all will be well." Catherine looked sharply at her uncle, his words the echo of what Captain Knight had said just the day before. "Look sharp!" Matthews said, forcing a smile to his face and nodding at her to do the same. Catherine managed to regain her composure and smiled with pretended cheer as they stepped lightly away in the rhythm of the dance. When the pattern brought them together once more, Catherine looked to her uncle again. "My message is this," Matthews said quickly. "You must keep dancing. Whatever else happens tonight you must stay on the dance floor and out of reach of your father and duMont." Catherine looked at her uncle completely perplexed: "I will try, Uncle Matthews, but how? Are we to dance together like this all evening? I have no other acquaintance in the room." she asked in confusion. Before he could answer they were parted in the final steps of the quadrille. When they came together to bow farewell her uncle was smiling broadly; "You are not alone, Catherine. Tonight you are surrounded by friends."

With those quizzical words, Matthews turned her around slowly and Catherine was met with the pleasant sight her old friend, Doctor Lyons. "May I have the pleasure of this next dance?" the gentleman said with a sincere bow. Catherine nodded her acknowledgement, astonished at his presence and by Matthews' deft handling of her transfer. Monsieur duMont had been approaching them with great speed but before he could give protest, Catherine was whirled away in a cotillion by the ship's good doctor. Matthews in turn stopped duMont and, with gracious manners and friendly generosity, began to talk endlessly about his ship, his many voyages, and a variety of other useless details that duMont cared for not in the least.

Philippe duMont bore the lieutenant's conversation with little grace, watching Catherine as a wolf follows its prey. As the dance was drawing to a close duMont attempted to excuse himself but Lieutenant Matthews was prepared. Just as Doctor Lyons gave Catherine a polite bow of farewell, one of the Triton's lieutenants stepped forward claiming the honor of a dance with the lovely Catherine. Doctor Lyons now joined Matthews and the two ceaseless conversationalists held duMont captive once more.

Over and over, the same ridiculous scene played out on the ballroom floor. Monsieur duMont would struggle to free himself from Matthews' lavish attention only to find Catherine engaged yet again by what seemed an endless supply of lieutenants, first mates, doctors and midshipmen from HMS Triton. On the dance floor, Catherine delighted in the arrival of each new face. To be reacquainted with these brave men would be welcome on any occasion but tonight it was doubly so. In their familial embrace she felt safe once more, her spirits lifting with hope. And so Catherine danced, whirling about the floor without pause, obeying her uncle to the letter.

It did not take Monsieur duMont long to see the ruse that had been set by Matthews. As the succession of partners continued without abatement, duMont felt his careful control slipping away. He tried to clear his angry thoughts and formulate a plan but he could not think with the indomitable Matthews at his ear, ceaselessly chattering like an errant bird. At last duMont's firm resolve snapped and he stepped angrily away from Matthews. "Enough!" he said heatedly, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of curious onlookers. With great haste, duMont turned on his heel and departed the ball room, desperate to find William Gibson. Something very wrong was going on and they needed to make a move at once.

Matthews watched duMont's progress the length of the great room. When duMont stepped out of the ball room, the lieutenant gave a subtle nod to an officer of the Admiralty who had been casually lounging by the door. The officer disappeared at once, following duMont undetected as the Frenchman searched for Gibson. At almost the same instance, Matthews noted a gesture directed at him from across the ball room. He answered the summons with a firm nod of his head. With a final look at his niece, Lieutenant Matthews left the room in preparation for the events that would happen next.

On the dance floor, Catherine bowed farewell to her most recent partner, one of HMS Triton's young lieutenants. Her injured ankle was beginning to throb from her exertions but she would not acknowledge it a she would follow her uncle's instructions to the letter if it meant she had to dance all the way to the devil. Catherine looked to where her uncle was keeping duMont at bay, only to find neither man there. "What could have happened?" she whispered with worry. Catherine stiffened with dread as a hand touched her elbow. She turned round with slow foreboding, certain that the plan had failed and duMont had reached her at last.

Quite the opposite was true.

Before her was the most agreeable sight of Captain John Knight. With grateful eyes, Catherine took in the splendor of his immaculate uniform, its polished bra.s.s b.u.t.tons and epaulettes shining bright in the glow of the chandeliers. Catherine raised her eyes to trace his handsome face, her heart singing as she took in each familiar detail; the dark eyes that shone with their customary brilliance, the lines around his mouth that accentuated firm lips, and the glossy waves of raven hair that framed his proud face. Knight looked down at Catherine from his great height, his dark, serious eyes regarding her while she made her silent study. His mind captured every detail of her great beauty on this evening; the golden hair captured with roses at the nape of her neck, her ivory skin radiant against the white of her silk gown, her blue eyes that glistened like pools of water. Knight's careful eye also took in the exquisite pendant that hung round Catherine's neck. Catherine saw the questioning look that came into his face and she squirmed uncomfortably as his eyes met her own. She expected condemnation but was surprised instead to see Knight's face break into a dazzling smile. As before, Catherine was caught off-guard by the brilliant transformation, like sun coming out from behind a cloud. An answering smile came to Catherine's face, lighting her eyes more radiantly than the jewels that hung round her neck. Without a word, she took Knight's arm and was led to the dance.

Every soul in the room was caught by the spectacle of Catherine in the arms of Knight. They made a handsome couple, to be sure a a beautiful, wealthy heiress and a brave, handsome captain. But more than this, something in the manner of their embrace, in the way their bodies moved and the looks they shared raised the curiosity of the crowd. Catherine was completely unaware of this scrutiny; the world and its worries had melted away and all that remained was the strength and solidity of Captain Knight.

They danced unspeaking a long time before Knight finally addressed her in low tones: "I hope the officers of HMS Triton have not tired you overmuch this evening?" Catherine's sparkling laugh was his answer. Knight smiled with humor but a certain seriousness remained in his eyes. As the steps of the dance brought them together he leaned his head closer and asked earnestly; "Did you experience some... difficulty before leaving for the ball?" Catherine started at his question, wondering what had prompted the remark. Her face flamed in embarra.s.sment as the heated scene with her father replayed in her mind's eye. Knight noted her discomfort at once. His lips compressed in a thin line, and angry flames flickered in his dark eyes as he awaited her response. Catherine stumbled a moment for words, finally saying in a low voice: "There was some..... unpleasantness..... Between my father and I. We argued..... about M. duMont" she said with trembling voice; "But I do not understand how you can know?" she finished haltingly. Catherine looked into Knight's face for answers; she could sense the tension within him and felt his protective hold tighten around her waist.

Captain Knight paused before replying; "I have been to your father's house this evening" he said at last with stark simplicity. Catherine's eyes widened. "The Admiralty went there looking for evidence of his crime" Knight continued, "and I a.s.sisted with the investigation. I discovered the state of your room while we were conducting our search. Catherine," he breathed softly, "What happened in there? Have you been hurt" Catherine shook her head at the painful reminder. Even with Captain Knight standing by her side she could not speak of this evening's events. The scars were too fresh, and the threat of danger still too immediate. Catherine turned her head and looked away with distress. Knight saw how his questions hurt her and he chided himself for doing so. As they turned in unison in the dance, Knight spoke again with quiet confidence; "Catherine, you need not be afraid. I will never let your father hurt you again, I promise."

The final strains of music faded away and Catherine made a polite bow to Knight. She rose once more but could not meet his eyes. The promise he made was like a balm to the many hurts she had endured these past weeks, and yet, Catherine did not dare believe that it could be so. Knight stood before her, awaiting a response that did not come. He gently took possession of Catherine's hand, determined that she should know and accept the truth of his words. Catherine looked up at last, fear and hope shining in her soulful eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could begin, her attention was forced away by a strange, restless sound that rippled throughout the room. A growing murmur rose from the crowd and, in the distance, an angry voice shouted hateful invective that could be heard above all. Catherine recognized at once the voice of her father.

Turning at the sound, Catherine caught sight of what held everyone in startled fascination: a grim looking Philippe duMont being led through their midst, escorted by two officers of the Admiralty. Catherine turned to Captain Knight, questioningly. "Is it possible?" Catherine said with whispered hope; "Is duMont under arrest?" Captain Knight nodded in agreement; "Yes, duMont has been arrested. We found evidence of his collusion with the French. The ship we captured gave us some clues but the papers you uncovered, Catherine, set us on the path of discovery. A sizeable wharf had been constructed on a private, isolated section of the coastline. From there, duMont was furnishing the French with ammunition and weapons secretly obtained from Spain. The whole endeavor was happening within the heart of Britain's own colony." Catherine was astonished at the news. She knew duMont was capable of reckless behavior but this treasonous act was well beyond anything she imagined. Catherine looked once more to watch duMont's progress; he caught her glance and gave a small mocking bow in reply. Catherine shuddered at the little act and turned away in disgust. Seeing her strong reaction, Captain Knight hesitated at what he must tell her next; "Catherine," Knight said with quiet firmness "I am afraid there is more. In uncovering duMont's deception we found your father had also been party to the entire affair. He is also under arrest and charged with treason."

The words hung between them a long moment. Knight watched anxiously as many emotions played across her expressive face a shock, guilt, anger, and relief. Catherine blinked several times, trying to register the strange news. She knew her father had been involved in the secret scheme with duMont, knew he was guilty, but the truth still rocked her to the core. As she struggled to come to terms with what Knight said, the sound of her father's angry shouts grew even louder. Catherine looked up in time to see him brought forth, apoplectic with rage, as the officers escorted him away. Catherine turned pale and trembled at the sight. Gibson was flailing like a mad man, turning every which way in his wrath. In one such turn, Gibson caught sight of his daughter standing in unison with Captain Knight. The mindless rant against his captors ceased only to turn against Catherine instead.

"You did this!" he shrieked with fury, "You did this to your own father, you horrible wretch! G.o.d d.a.m.n your soul! G.o.d d.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l!" Shockwaves ran through the ballroom as his wrath fell upon his daughter. The words. .h.i.t Catherine like a physical blow; she felt sick with fear and loathing. Catherine stumbled and fell backward, grateful to find Captain Knight's solid presence behind her. Knight held her close as she attempted to regain her equilibrium. All the while, Gibson continued to pour hateful invective on his child: "You will pay for this, Catherine!" he shouted, "I will not let you get away with this!" With maniacal determination, Gibson swung wildly round, evading his captors at last. As the entire room watched in horror, William Gibson pulled a small pistol from his vest and raced to where Catherine stood.

Catherine felt time slow to a stop. All sound seemed to disappear. All that remained was her father bearing down upon her, and the cold reality of the gun. The terrified girl stood motionless, held captive by the awful spectacle before her. In slow motion she watched as this ruthless man moved closer, light glinting from the barrel of his gun as he raised it to take aim. Catherine closed her eyes in anguish, prepared for the inevitable conclusion that must come from the horrifying affair.

With sudden swiftness, Catherine felt herself moved roughly aside, and time resumed once more. She opened her eyes in surprise to find Captain Knight standing before her, shielding her with his own body. Catherine's senses came flooding back to her, her mind racing in terror. She clutched at Knight's arm, determined to save him from her father's wrath.

A sudden, sharp report rang out. The gun had fired.

Catherine screamed in anguish. Her soul writhed in fear for Knight's life. In torment she clutched at the captain, heart thundering in her chest. "No! No!" Catherine cried softly, tears streaming down her face as she staggered forward to witness what she knew must have happened. As she stepped in front of Knight, Catherine's dazed eyes tried to take in the truth of the scene before her; Captain Knight stood unharmed a his expression was grim but Catherine saw no sign of injury to his person whatsoever. In anguished relief Catherine sobbed and fell against his chest.

The momentary respite Catherine felt was quickly replaced by a sudden sharp realization. The captain remained rigidly at attention, his body stiff and unyielding under her touch. Catherine stepped back a pace from Knight and read his severe expression. She whirled around with wild eyes trying to understand his reaction. The grim reality of the scene lay before her. Less than ten feet away, dead on the floor, lay the body of William Gibson. And standing a few paces beyond, with smoking gun in his hand, stood her Uncle Matthews. Catherine surveyed the scene in silence, took a faltering step forward, and then fell to the floor unconscious.

Chapter XXII.

The gentle motion of the waves gradually brought Catherine back to herself. She opened her eyes weakly to find a beam of light streaming in through a porthole window. Catherine looked around in confusion, unable to recognize her surroundings. Near her on a nightstand lay a wilted spray of roses, duMont's necklace, and the combs that had bound her hair. As she took in the curious sight she realized that under the covers she was still dressed in her silk evening gown from the previous night. The pieces of the puzzle came together, clearing the fog that clouded Catherine's mind, and she realized she was in her old berth aboard the HMS Triton. As swiftly as this realization came, the horrific scenes from last night came flooding back as well. Catherine gave a small moan of despair and covered her head with her hands.

"Catherine?" said a familiar voice. She turned quickly, sitting up in bed with a jolt. At her side sat her uncle Matthews. The kind man looked at her with haunted eyes, strong emotions playing across the weathered planes of his face. Catherine read in an instant the worry and heartbreak that plagued his soul on this awful morning. "Uncle" she said softly, eyes filling with tears. Catherine rose in an instant and clutched her uncle in loving embrace. Matthews returned the young girl's hold with fierce determination while she cried her heartache into his comforting chest. The rugged sailor cradled her with great tenderness, whispering words of comfort that were occasionally choked by his own strong emotion.

At last, a somber Catherine pulled away with a small sigh. Her beautiful blue eyes were swimming with tears as she spoke; "You saved me. You saved the captain." Matthews shook his head, eyes cast low at her words; "I did not wish to do it, Catherine, but there was no other way. Your father was going to kill you both. I am so sorry to have hurt you, my child." Catherine shook her head at his words and leaned against him once more. With her head tucked against his chest, Catherine said quietly; "He was not my father, Matthews. No father would treat a child the way that he treated me. I was in fear for my life long before he pulled out the gun. I was only a possession to him. You are the only father I have ever truly known." Matthews gripped her tighter and gave a small shaky sigh. The lieutenant regretted so much that had happened but the ordeal was over and somehow, together, they must find a way to move forward.

Looking around the room with grateful eyes, Catherine tried to remember what had pa.s.sed; "I am still confused, uncle. I do not understand what happened... after. How did I come to be aboard HMS Triton? I am afraid I do not remember" she finished brokenly. Matthews settled next to her and said, "You were in a state of shock, child. Dr. Lyons attempted to revive you at the ballroom but nothing could bring you round. He told the captain the shock was so very great that the best thing would be to let you recover slowly on your own. That's when the captain insisted on bringing you here to the ship. We all agreed when you came round it should be somewhere comforting, so you would not be distressed again. And so, Captain Knight gathered you up and brought you here himself."

Catherine twisted her hands together and moved slowly away as she tried to envision the image her uncle painted. Unconsciously she swept up the spray of roses from her nightstand and held them to her face, inhaling the last of their dying scent. Catherine knew somehow that even this small kindness a the removal of her combs and headdress last night a had been by the captain's hand. Catherine moved with trembling limbs to the porthole window and looked out onto the new day. In the clear morning air birds wheeled freely about the harbor, rays of light bouncing brightly from their wings. The surface of the sea was calm and serene and stretched with endless promise to the horizon. Despite its beauty, Catherine's heart ached at the sight. Something of their serenity eluded her; she knew she could never fully be part of these scenes again. Too much had pa.s.sed. Too much had been lost. Catherine turned from the vista outside her window and looked to her uncle once more; "The captain is a very good man, uncle. His kindness, his protection, is so much more than I deserve. All that happened last night, the danger he faced because of me..... I can hardly bear to think on it. He must hate me so."

Matthews was startled by Catherine's words and came quickly to her side in rea.s.surance; "You are wrong, Catherine! No one blames you for what happened yesterday, certainly not Captain Knight! You should know that he has been most anxious, Catherine. I do not think he has been to bed this whole night. His time has been split between addressing the matter onsh.o.r.e and in visits to your cabin. He has been checking here regularly to see if you had come round." Catherine flushed at this news, her heart lurching in confusion. She could not meet her uncle's eye any longer and stepped to the window once more, her forehead resting against its cool surface in support. Lieutenant Matthews saw the great struggle at play in his niece's heart and knew the best course of action was to give her s.p.a.ce and time to come to terms with all that had pa.s.sed. He placed his hand on her golden hair as though she were a young child once more. Catherine turned at the touch and gave a fleeting smile. "I shall leave you now, my dear, so you may get dressed" Matthews said gently. "Take a few moments to compose your self and prepare for the day. I shall be on the quarter deck waiting for you when you are ready." Catherine nodded in agreement and watched as her uncle turned to go.

Matthews was stopped in the doorway when Catherine suddenly spoke out, her words an anxious tumble: "I cannot remain in Jamaica, uncle. I cannot return to that house." The lieutenant turned to her and replied with kindness; "You will not need to, Catherine. Everything will be arranged. And as for the future, I hoped you might wish to return to England to live with your aunt. You will stay with us as you always should have done, as one of our own." Catherine was beyond words at the invitation. She smiled gratefully at her uncle as tears spilled down her face once more, relief easing the great pain in her heart.

Matthews left without another word, allowing Catherine the s.p.a.ce she needed to sort through her troubled thoughts. She stared out the window a long while before finally turning and settling on the edge of the bed. Catherine twisted the stem of roses that she still held in her hands, their faded petals dropping unheeded in her lap. The lieutenant's offer of a real home, of a place where she could heal, gave Catherine comfort. But in the depths of her heart she knew that there would be emptiness there as well. Last night, in those horrible moments that had almost spelled the end, Catherine had discovered the depth of her love for Captain Knight. The thought of him dying, the possibility of life without him, had almost driven her mad with grief. When the gunshot rang out it felt like a door slamming shut on her heart; all seemed in darkness, every former joy was swallowed up in pain. When her anguished heart finally comprehended that Knight was alive it had been more than she could bear. It was that shock, more so than the death of her father, which had caused her to collapse in agonized relief.

"He lives," she said quietly, "and that must be enough. That shall be my consolation." But Catherine felt a deep anguish nonetheless. The events of last night were so horrible that she knew Knight must look on her now with contempt and disdain. She would forever be a reminder to him of a brutal scene that was best forgotten. The friendship they had found was now marred by tragedy and violence. There could be no turning back.

Catherine sighed bitterly and rose to her feet once more. The petals that had lain in her lap tumbled to the floor in a mocking parody of celebration. Catherine looked at them dejectedly then stepped away. The prospect of living the rest of her life separated from Knight was a bleak and empty one. He had come to mean everything to Catherine a her fondest wish and her heart's desire a but it was inevitable they part. Catherine squared her shoulders in resolution. There was nothing left for her to do but to draw on every ounce of courage she possessed and start anew; far from Jamaica, far from the cruel memory of her father, and far from Captain John Knight.

The sun was high overhead when Catherine stepped onto the quarter deck of HMS Triton. She looked around fondly at the familiar sights; the hands busy at their tasks on deck and on the Kingston dock, the refreshing blue coolness of the harbor, and the wonderful solidity of the ship itself. Catherine ran a trailing hand along the rail as she moved forward, the wood warm and comforting to the touch. At her approach, a polite murmur ran through the men a.s.sembled on deck, alerting Lieutenant Matthews of his niece's arrival. He stepped forward from the wheel house and greeted her once more. Catherine followed her uncle to a position near the rail overlooking the broad expanse of the harbor. The two settled together in companionable silence, each lost in their own difficult memories of the past day. "You look much better," Matthews said finally in rough compliment. Catherine laughed at his words and could not but agree; "Thank you, uncle" she said with gentle humor, as she smoothed the fabric of her fresh linen gown. "You have been so kind a thank you for arranging for my things to be brought here. It was a great relief to shed last night's clothes in order to meet the new day." Matthews shifted slightly at the rail and said, "I am afraid I cannot take the credit for it, Catherine." Catherine looked at her uncle questioningly but before she could inquire, a deep voice spoke from behind: "I hope you do not mind, Miss Gibson. It was I who took the liberty of arranging for your things" said Captain Knight.

Catherine straightened at the sound and turned slowly round to meet the captain. The sun shone brightly on Knight's face, illuminating his features. Catherine was startled at what was revealed; his eyes were hooded and dark, a shadow of beard showed against his tanned skin, and the state of his normally immaculate uniform gave testimony to the fact that Knight had not rested since the events of last night. Knight noted Catherine's surprise with amus.e.m.e.nt and looked at himself critically; "I must apologize, Miss Gibson, for my rough appearance. Business with the Admiralty has occupied my time, I am afraid." Knight looked at Catherine candidly as he spoke. He saw the shadow that crossed Catherine's face at his reference to last night's affair. He did not speak further but stood in respectful silence.

The beautiful young woman stood before him pale and trembling. Catherine clasped and unclasped her hands several times as a storm of emotions battled within her. It was Matthews who finally ended the uncomfortable silence: "I believe" Matthews said to his captain, "that there are some supplies just arriving at the dock. I will see to the loading while you two talk. Catherine, I will speak with you later, after I have finished my tasks" he said, more as a question than a statement. Catherine gave her uncle a nod and he departed.

In the lieutenant's absence, silence descended upon the two once again. Captain Knight looked at Catherine for several moments, watching the wealth of emotions at play in her face. She still had not spoken but Knight was all patience. He stepped beside Catherine at the rail and removed his bicorn, turning the hat absently in his hands. "I am glad to see you recovered at last" he said hoa.r.s.ely into the silence. Catherine trembled at the genuine concern in his voice and the expression in his eyes. She lowered her gaze a moment then bravely lifted her head knowing she must respond; "I thank you, Captain, for your kind wishes. I am indeed well..... And it is all due to your n.o.ble behavior last... last night."

Catherine's words faltered as the horrible scenes flashed through her memory again. She closed her eyes, willing the hateful details away. The evil of those hours was so strong she could still feel it. Catherine knew how it must change everything between her and Knight, despite his kind words this morning. She opened her eyes, pain shining forth from their depths, to find the captain starring at her with concern. Catherine's careful eyes took in his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance from the sleepless, watchful night; she saw how the worry of the past few hours had lined his handsome face. Knight's pain, his concern for her well being, was acute and the realization gave Catherine an unexpected jolt. Doubt, belief, despair and hope crossed her face in rapid succession. Catherine tried to still her disquieting thoughts as she met Knight's gaze once more; "Captain Knight," she said with shaky breath, "Words cannot express my grat.i.tude for your selfless act. If you had not been there....."

"No," the captain cut in suddenly. He stood ill at ease, anger and self-loathing clear in his voice. He moved forward with halting steps nearer to Catherine, a haunted look in his eyes; "No, Miss Gibson" he said firmly, "I cannot accept your thanks. It was my carelessness that endangered you in the first place. I only hope that you might someday be able to forgive me" he finished, his breath ragged with emotion.

"Forgive you?" Catherine said bewildered; "Captain, there is nothing to forgive. You were right about duMont and my father. You tried to warn me but I was too stubborn to heed your advice. If you had not insisted on helping me....." she trailed off, refusing to think further about what the final consequences could have been. "It is I who must ask your forgiveness," she continued, eyes cast low. "I know how insidious last evening must have been to a man of your character. And I understand how unpleasant it must be to have me onboard... as a reminder....." Catherine said weakly. She reached for the rail in support and starred blankly at the sea a long moment. Drawing upon every ounce of courage to remain in control she looked at Knight and said; "I have spoken to my uncle this morning. He agreed that I may return to live in his home in England. I shall... I shall make arrangements for the journey right away. I will leave HMS Triton with all haste."

The declaration hung in the air between them and Catherine finally had to look away in her pain. Knight starred at the pale young woman trembling before him. He studied every detail of her face; the normally proud bearing replaced by deep sadness and humility. His heart knew the truth at once. Knight reached forward with his strong hand to cup her lovely face, turning her to face his gaze. His thumb gently stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear that fell unbidden from her eye; "I am afraid I cannot allow that to happen, Catherine" he said in a husky voice. "I am not willing to lose you again."

Catherine starred up into the captain's face in wonder, her eyes widening in surprise. The breath caught in her throat as she said haltingly; "You... you do not wish me to go?" Captain Knight's eyes danced darkly, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. He spoke no word, and instead lowered his head to hers and caught her lips in a deep kiss.

Joy and relief rushed through Catherine's body at his touch, her heart singing in response to his words and the firm pressure of his lips. Knight pulled her closer, her slight frame melting against the length of his own. His hands slipped down her back, enfolding her in his protective embrace. Catherine's hands stole up the front of his jacket to reach for the planes of his familiar face, her fingers delighting in the feel of his skin and the sharpness of his six o-clock shadow. Knight's lips moved across Catherine's own in gentle possession, teasing, caressing in loving tribute until the world disappeared and all that was left was two hearts singing in unison.

After several blissful moments Knight pulled away, keeping Catherine close against his chest. "I love you, Catherine Gibson" he said simply; "And I will never let you go again. Last night, when I thought I would lose you, it almost destroyed me." Knight shook his head grimly; "I knew my feelings before we reached Jamaica but my foolish pride would not allow me to speak. Then, last night, seeing you again, knowing the danger you faced. It was the worst feeling I have ever experienced. To know I had put you in such a position. To know I had delivered you to duMont and Gibson without protest. It was stupid and arrogant and I am more sorry than words can ever say. I will spend my life making it up to you, if you will allow me?" He finished hopefully.

The light of Catherine's eyes shone brilliantly in reply; "There is nothing to forgive" she said with all gentleness; "You rescued me. You gave me hope when all seemed lost. For that alone you have my eternal grat.i.tude" she finished quietly. A brilliant smile came to Knight's face at her words; "And my proposal?" he said, eyes flashing with wicked delight, "Do you think a woman of your background could be content as the wife of a humble sailor?' Catherine laughed aloud at his reference to their earliest encounter on this same deck. She marveled at how far they had come together, at the strong bond of love that now joined her to him without end. Catherine looked up to the birds that wheeled freely through the clear blue skies; she felt their joy and freedom whispering in her own heart: "Yes, Captain Knight," she said, looking at him with deep affection "my heart is yours to command."

end.