Wanton Splendor Page 4

  Mark was used to the untamed land and people who followed the railroad, not Southern gentlemen and smooth-talking, well-dressed gamblers.

  "Where ya headed?" Jake asked, making conversation.

  "Kingsford House, south of Baton Rouge. Do you know it?"

  "Sure. It's a pretty place and right on the river."

  Mark nodded. "That's what I've heard, but I haven't been there before. It's my uncle's. My sister and I are stopping for a visit before I go on to school in New Orleans in a few weeks."

  "Well enjoy yourself while you're there. I've heard these planters know how to live the good life." Jake refilled Mark's glass again. "So who won the final hand of the game?"

  "Fletcher did. Made quite a haul, too. He won Mon tard's plantation, Greenwood."

  Jake hooted with laughter. "I'll say Fletcher made a haul! Greenwood is one fancy place. But Montard didn't seem too upset by it all."

  Mark shrugged. "If he couldn't afford to lose, he wouldn't have been playing."

  "That's true enough."

  Mark was quiet as he tossed off his drink. Noting the time once again, he wondered if Katie was looking for him. He had no doubt that she was furious with him and with that thought he hurriedly headed out of the bar, his gait unsteady. The sooner he found her and apologized the better, for when Katie Kingsford was angry, she was a woman to be reckoned with.

  Joel was smiling widely as he accompanied Christopher on their way to the grand salon.

  "How soon will we be there?" he asked, his longawaited dream about to come true.

  `We're about two days out of New Orleans, so well go there first and get everything in order. That should give Montard plenty of time to move out," Christopher explained. "The way it looks I think we can be back at Greenwood by early next week."

  A relieved "Good" was Joel's only comment; he'd waited this long to be reunited with his family, he could wait a few more days.

  As they were about to enter the salon, the door flew open and a very drunk Mark Kingsford emerged and stood swaying before them.

  "Kingsford," Christopher greeted him as he attempted to enter.

  "You!" Kingsford exclaimed.

  Christopher glanced sideways at Joel, giving him a well-understood grimace.

  "We were about to get breakfast. Would you care to join us?" Christopher tried to divert Mark, knowing that he was quite drunk.

  "Eat? With you? You tinhorn gambler! Why, where I come from, you wouldn't last an hour!"

  "Then, if you'll excuse us..." Christopher started to move around Mark, but he was not about to give quarter.

  "Who's this? Your bodyguard?" he taunted, eyeing Joel's massive size. "I suppose you need a bodyguard, the way you play."

  Christopher stiffened; as much as he wanted to avoid any unpleasantness, Kingsford was getting to him. "Joel, I suppose we could skip breakfast today. What do you say?"

  "Yes, sir," Joel answered and they turned to go.

  "You're yellow, Fletcher!" and Mark swung at him.

  At the defiant gibe, Christopher turned to confront Mark and barely missed his vicious right hook. In an effort meant only for self-defense, he countered with a swift powerful uppercut. When the blow connected full force with Mark's unprotected chin, his logs buckled and he collapsed, out cold, on the deck.

  Katie was nodding benignly to some inane remark of Andre's as they walked slowly along. There had been no sign of Mark and she'd been forced to endure Andre's self-centered chatter, faking an interest she truly didn't feel. Stifling a yawn, she was about to invent a good excuse to return to her cabin when the raucous call "Fight!" interrupted Andre's monologue.

  "Where?" Katie demanded, instantly alert. She hadn't had any excitement in her life for weeks.

  "Down there," he answered with little interest, pointing down the deck. "Probably just some rowdy lowlifes. Come, we'll go on back. You don't want to be exposed to that."

  But Katie eagerly pressed forward even against Andre's restraining hand. The gathering crowd parted just enough to allow her a quick glimpse of the combatants and she couldn't believe her eyes!

  "Brawling is so common," Andre was condemning when Katie's excited words cut him off.

  "Oh my God! It's my brother!" Glaring up at Andre she pulled free of his restricting grip.

  "You shouldn't go..." he began.

  But Katie was already running toward the altercation, qursing all the while the billowing hoop skirts that made fast movement virtually impossible. Mark might need her help, she rationalized even though he hadn't lost a fight in years. Breaking through the crowd, she arrived just in time to see the stranger land a punishing blow and Mark drop to the deck unconscious.

  Kate took the final steps slowly, her movements almost stalking in nature. During her charge down the deck, her hat had fallen off and her hair had come unbound giving her the appearance of a lioness as she moved sleekly, her tawny sun-streaked mane a glory as it tumbled in rich vibrant waves down her back.

  Christopher was amazed to look up and find a beautiful woman approaching. Where had she come from? And who were the rest of these people who'd gathered around? Wiping his hands on his pants, he straightened his jacket and adjusted his cuffs. Then turning to the gaggle of nosy passengers, he spoke.

  "You can break it up now." His tone was chastising as he glared at the group. Then directing his attention to Katie as she drew nearer, he ordered again, "Go on folks. The excitement's all over."

  "I wouldn't bet on that," she seethed as her fist came out of nowhere and landed a sharp punch to Christopher's left eye.

  Katie lunged at him again but lost her balance as her legs got tangled in the profusion of her skirts. Twisting, she fell awkwardly, only to be saved from the humiliation of landing on the deck by the strong arm of her adversary.

  "Let me go, you...you!" she raged, fighting to be free as the big man held her immobile against him.

  Loud guffaws of laughter surrounded them and even Joel had a hard time keeping a straight face. Suddenly aware of all the attention she'd attracted, Katie blushed furiously and, ceasing her struggles, she glowered up a., her tormentor.

  "Release me now, you ass," she hissed through gritted teeth. "You're giving these people a damn sideshow!"

  "Me?" Christopher chuckled, despite his throbbing eye. Never before in his life had he been bested by a female. "You're done fighting me?"

  Katie nodded, too angry to speak. At her acquiescence, Christopher let her go and immediately put his hand to his tender swelling eye.

  "I always thought you fought women off, not fought with them," Joel joked.

  Katie, who'd knelt beside Mark, couldn't resist the urge to speak up. Turning a frosty-eyed glare on Christopher, she spoke cuttingly. "I can't imagine why any woman would want you."

  "Shut up, Joel," Christopher ordered when his companion began laughing again, not wanting to chide this woman who had a tongue as vicious as her right hook.

  "Sorry," Joel managed as he took a closer look at Christopher's eye. "We had better get something on this right away."

  Mark, meanwhile, was slowly coming around, "Katie? What..."

  "Miss Kingsford! Are you all right?" Andre exclaimed as he joined them, too stunned by what had just happened to say any more. He looked quickly from Katie to Mark before Fletcher's words froze him.

  "Andre Montard, I believe?" Christopher spoke sardonically and he frowned as he wondered what the connection was between his blond nemesis and Andre.

  "Fletcher? Joel?" Andre swelled with indignation at the sight of his former slave. Why the black was actually well-dressed!

  "You remember my manservant, Joel, don't you Montard?" Christopher said drily.

  Katie, sensing more trouble brewing, wanted only to get some help for Mark.

  "Andre, please." She called him by his first name to distract him. "Mark's been injured. Can you help me get him back to my cabin?"

  "Your husband's more drunk than hurt, lady," Christopher said coldly, resenting some
how her familiarity with Montard.

  "He's my brother, not my husband!" she returned sarcastically, turning her back on Christopher as she tried to help a reeling Mark to his feet.

  When Andre finally got an arm around him they started off to her cabin without a backward glance, supporting a staggering Mark between them.

  As they disappeared through a cabin door, Joel looked at Christopher and smiled.

  "What are you grinning about?" Christopher snapped.

  "That woman and your eye," Joel answered bluntly. "She was somethin'. I ain't never seen a white woman quite like her before."

  "Well, quit worrying about Miss Kingsford and get me a beefsteak for my eye." In mid-thought his tone changed as if he suddenly saw the entire incident in a new light. "She did pack a good punch." He smiled broadly and then quickly grimaced in pain. "Ouch! Damn it, get me a steak. I'll meet you back in the cabin."

  "Right away."

  And with one last quizzical look toward her cabin, Christopher headed off to his own.

  "How was your morning?" Emil asked Andre when he had joined him in their stateroom.

  "Fine until the fight," Andre told him sourly.

  `Tight? What fight?"

  "Mark Kingsford got into it with Christopher Fletcher. Got himself knocked out for his trouble, too. And then Katie got involved."

  "Kingsford and Fletcher and his sister?" Emil was surprised. "That damn hard-headed young idiot... what did his sister do?"

  "When she saw Fletcher hit Mark, she went after him..."

  Emil looked at his son in astonishment. "The girl attacked him? No lady would..."

  Andre nodded, "I found it very hard to believe, too, but she even managed to hit him before he stopped her."

  "Couldn't you control her and save you both such an embarrassing scene?"

  "She was too fast." Andre shrugged, not wanting to discuss Katie's bizarre behavior. "Do you have any idea what Mark would be doing arguing with Fletcher?"

  "He lost a good deal of money to him in the poker game last night and he was upset about it. I told him after the game that Fletcher was clean, but I guess he didn't believe me."

  "How did you fare?"

  "Not well. I lost quite a bit. But I'll get it back," Emil informed him smoothly.

  Andre smiled confidently at his father. "Of that I have no doubt. How bad was it?"

  "All my ready cash and Greenwood," Emil answered bluntly.

  "Greenwood?" Andre glanced at his father, stunned. "Fletcher has Greenwood?"

  "He won it in the final hand. I thought I had him with a full house, but he held four of a kind."

  "Damn!" Andre was furious. "Did everything go with it?"

  "Slaves, livestock and all," Emil confirmed. "It was the only way he'd accept it as a wager."

  "I can imagine. Why, he knew what he was doing all the time!"

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Last year he wanted to buy Dee from me."

  "Dee?"

  "That's right."

  "You refused the offer?"

  "Of course. She's mine. All mine!" Andre nodded. "I should have known, though, that Fletcher wouldn't give up."

  "So," Emil stated softly, yet his tone was stern. "This is the second time he has outmaneuvered us?"

  At Andre's affirmative answer, Emil vowed, `This is the last time."

  The Attraction

  "Who was that man and why were you fighting?" Katie demanded much later as she applied a cold compress to Mark's puffy, discolored jaw. Getting rid of Andre and sobering Mark up had robbed her of her usual good nature and her temper was short. Standing with her hands on her hips, her hair in disarray, Katie awaited a straight answer from her brother, who was being extremely evasive.

  Mark looked up at his sister sheepishly. "His name is Christopher Fletcher."

  "That doesn't tell me a thing," she snapped. "I want the whole story and I want it now! Do you realize what a scene 1 caused out there?"

  "You really let him have it?" Mark's eyes were twinkling.

  "Yes, I did." She didn't waver from her purpose, despite his attempts to sidetrack her. "Now what was that all about?"

  "I'd had one too many and I got mad."

  "But just what did this Fletcher do to make you so an ?"gry.

  "I lost quite a lot to him in the poker game," Mark finally admitted.

  "And you picked the fight?"

  "Yes."

  Katie groaned, "Were you cheated in any way?"

  "No," Mark admitted grudgingly, and Katie lost her temper.

  "You could have gotten yourself killed! You're lucky that he didn't challenge you to a duel!" The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. "And I made a complete fool out of myself, thinking that he...Get out of here! Go on!"

  "But Katie..."

  "Don't 'But Katie' me! I have no patience with overgrown little boys!"

  Mark stood up and headed for the door. "See you later?"

  "No. You didn't worry about me earlier, so don't be concerned now." Scowling, she ushered him from her cabin.

  When Mark was outside, Katie closed the door behind him with marked emphasis. Her frustration was great as she sat down heavily on her bed. She knew what she had to do, but it wasn't going to be easy. She had to apologize to Fletcher. She had made a bad mistake. And although she was never afraid to admit when she was wrong, there wore times when it was a trifle embarrassing... like now. Sighing deeply, Katie roused herself enough to set things right.

  Lying stretched out on his bunk in the darkened cabin, Christopher pressed the cold raw meat on his sore eye. Considering how ridiculous the whole situation was, he couldn't decide whether to swear or laugh, Taking a drink of the whiskey Joel had brought him, Christopher cursed loudly when a knock sounded at the stateroom door.

  "Who is it?" he growled, thinking it Joel and not wanting to get up.

  The voice which answered was muffled and indistinguishable and so with great effort he hauled himself off the bed, tossed the bloody steak on the small bedside table and threw open the door.

  "What the hell do you want?" he barked before even looking to see who was there.

  "Oh!" Surprised by his abrupt appearance, Katie was momentarily speechless. "Your eye..." she finally blurted out and then blushed guiltily. It was swollen and bruised a vivid shade of purplish-blue.

  "Yes, it's attractive, isn't it?"

  "I-I, um..." Having never blackened a stranger's eye before, she wasn't quite sure how to handle this confrontation.

  "Miss Kingsford, is there something I can do for you or did you just come to survey your handiwork?"

  "No - I mean-"

  "Won't you come in?"

  "No, I can't ...I mean it wouldn't be suitable. I just-uh I just came to apologize."

  Christopher looked at her in amazement. "You came to apologize?"

  Passersby were watching them and Christopher was suddenly irritated at their obvious interest.

  "Yes, I..."

  "Since you won't come in, why don't I come out?"

  Katie nodded, "Fine."

  "Give me just a minute and I'll be right with you."

  "All right," she agreed and walking to the railing, she waited for him to join her.

  "Miss Kingsford," Christopher greeted a few moments later when he met her at the rail.

  "Mr. Fletcher," She acknowledged.

  There was something about this man that made her wary. Staring up at him, Katie tried to analyze why she felt so strangely. There was no doubt that he was classically handsome. His eyes were dark and expressive, his nose straight, his chin determined, yet his mouth was mobile with good humor. Yes, he was definitely good-looking, but while she'd been around attractive men before, none of than had possessed this overwhelming sense of presence. Katie knew instinctively that Christopher Fletcher was a very capable, self-confident man. And that knowledge put her on edge.

  "I owe you an apology, Mr. Fletcher." She spoke stoutheartedly, wanting to deal with him in a stra
ightforward manner.

  "Christopher, please," his voice was soft, almost coaxing.

  "Mr. Fletcher," she restated emphatically, irritated that he was speaking down to her, much as Andre had been these past few days. Didn't these men realize that women were intelligent too? Keeping her tone deliberately haughty, she went on, "I was under the impression earlier today that you had hit Mark without provocation. And that was why I..."

  "Why you attacked me?" he mocked, aggravated by her refusal to use his first name.

  "Yes," she paused, meeting his derisive gaze evenly. "But I just found out from my brother that the whole incident was his fault.. .that he swung at you first." Katie waited to see his reaction, but Christopher maintained his indifferent expression. "So, I apologize for hitting you and causing such an outrageous scene. I should have known better." Katie was glad to end the conversation.

  "What's your first name?" Christopher asked, as he leaned against the railing.

  Katie looked up at him, annoyed by the question. What did her name have to do with her apology?

  "Kathleen," she finally responded, not wanting to get into a verted battle. Now that she had finished, all she wanted to do was leave.

  "Pretty. Very pretty. It suits you."

  "Thank you," she replied curtly, knowing what he was up to. He was just like Andre, she decided, and she wanted no part of his smooth talk. "And now, if you'll excuse me..."Katieturned to walk away.

  "Not so fast, Kathleen." He emphasized her name. "I'm afraid you owe me more than an apology, my dear," he continued and Katie stiffened.

  "I do?"

  "Um," Christopher nodded. "You see, I'll be wearing your brand for quite a while." He indicated his injured eye.

  Katie swallowed nervously, not knowing what he was leading up to. "Oh." She certainly didn't want to be cornered by the likes of him.

  "So, to even the score... first, you'll have to call me Christopher and second, have dinner with me tonight." He relaxed, smiling widely at her obvious relief.

  "Dinner?" Katie had expected much worse from him.

  "Did you have other plans?" he questioned quickly, thinking immediately of her easy familiarity with Andre,

  "No..."

  "Good. I'll come by for you at seven."

  "But your eye..."