Columbine by MIRANDA JARRETT Page B

him.
    His own desire had been all too genuine. He clenched his hands behind his back and stared coldly down at her.
    “Pray, tell me, Dianna, are you bargaining with me?” Dianna swallowed. There was no sign of affection in that handsome, stone-hard face. Part of her wished that he hadn’t been willing to set her aSide quite so easily, but his callousness also served to steady her nerve.
    “You are a merchant, a trader,” she said disdainfully, managing a small, careless shrug.
    “If such terms are those you understand, then aye, we shah bargain.”
    Kit wondered if she would have given herself to Welles if the man had been here alone. Maybe, on another night, she already had.
    “A simple transaction, then, between us alone?”
    Dianna nodded, though her thoughts were full of uncertainty. She had nothing to trade beyond what she wore, and he knew it. What she had asked was not complicated. Why was he bent on making it so?
    His jaw tightened, his green eyes as cold as the winter sea around them. “where I am from, my lady,” he said contemptuously, “there is a word for women who would sell themselves for favors. And it’s a great deal worse than being called ‘merchant’.”
    Dianna gasped.
    “You’re a vile, hateful rogue, a despicable snake, a—a-Oh, damn yOU!” She slapped him as hard as she could, so hard that her wrist stung.
    “I hate you and wish I’d never, ever met you!”
    “And I’d say the same about you, madam!” The mark of her hand burned red on Kit’s cheek, and it was all he could do to control his temper. He was fired of her everlasting games, and he refused to play them any longer. He stalked to the cabin door and jerked it open.
    “There, go! We have no more than a week before we reach land. if you don’t wish me to throttle you before then, you will keep to your quarters and out of my sight!
    Dianna was too angry to reply, and with a little roar of frustration, she stamped her foot. She had failed miserably, and she hated to return to the others empty-handed, with no promise of relief to come.
    Then her gaze ca ugh the tureen that was still haft-filled with stew. She grabbed it with both hands and, cradling it to her chest, she raced past Kit and down the companionway. ;
    Dumbstmck, Kit watched her scurry away with her prize. He slammed the door and walked back to the table, stating down at the damp, steamed circle left
     
    on the wood by the tureen and considering the maddening contradictions of Dianna Grey.
    The morning the Prosperity finally reached Saybrook was cold and clear, the sky whipped to a brilliant blue by an icy March wind. As the word spread that their journey was almost over, the passengers rushed to the deck, eager for this first sight of their new homeland. But while everyone around her at the rail chattered excitedly, Dianna’s spirits plummeted as the ship rounded Lynde Point and the town itself came into view.
    No, she decided, town was too grand a word for the forlorn assortment of buildings strung along the waterfront. Houses and businesses alike had a raw, unfinished look, their unpainted clapboard or shingled sides weathered to a silvery gray, their proportions squat and mean. No trees softened their harshness, only mud and dirty snow and wisps of smoke that the wind tore from the chimneys.
    Dianna twisted her hands in the worn remains of her cloak and tried to picture herself in such a setting.
    As a lady, she was both educated and accomplished.
    She could read and write and cipher, play on the spinet and sing, speak French and a little Italian. But none of that would matter unless the buyer of her indenture was genteel as well, and Saybrook, to her eyes, did not have the look of a genteel place.
    She glanced back to where Captain Welles stood by the wheel, and at once felt reassured, He was a good man, if plain-spoken, one she could trust. He had treated her civilly since the moment he’d had the shackles removed, and he had risked the displeasure of