Charon's Crossing

How innocent she is, and how I love her!

Innocent?

Kathryn frowned and looked up from the journal.

It seemed almost painfully clear that the only innocent in this story was Matthew. Catherine Russell had been playing Matthew for a fool. Any woman would know that, today or back in 1812.

She had wanted to have her cake and to eat it, too. The miracle was that Matthew had not seen through her scheming ways but then, he was a man in love, though how he could have been in love with such a manipulative, spoiled brat...

Kathryn lifted her face to the sea breeze.

What was it to her? So he'd been a jerk. Lots of men were. Lots of women, too. People in love weren't always reasonable or sensible. They let passion rule their heads. Her parents had proved that until the day they'd finally ended their marriage.

And that was how Matthew had loved Catherine. You could sense it, in the words he'd written. You could feel it, in the way he'd touched her and kissed her and...

Kathryn blinked. What the hell was she thinking? She didn't know how he'd kissed Catherine. A dream, a hallucination, call it what you liked, wasn't reality. And even if you climbed out on the farthest limb of self-delusion and said it was, it wasn't she that Matthew had held in his arms, it was the woman he'd thought she was.

"Kathryn?"

A shadow loomed over her. She gave a start of surprise and her heart leaped but when she looked up, it was only Hiram.

"Hiram," she said, with a little laugh. "I didn't hear you."

"I wanted to tell you that I'm leavin' now, Kathryn. Shutters are fixed, locks are all changed." He jerked his chin up towards the house. "Everythin's locked up tight."

"Oh." Kathryn closed the journal and scrambled to her feet. "Sorry. I sort of lost track of the time."

"No problem." Hiram held out a ring of keys. "Figured you'd want these."

She nodded as she pocketed them. "Thanks."

"Figured you'd want to know, too, that I checked for hidden doors and such." The old man's eyes met hers. "Didn't find a thing."

Kathryn felt a light blush rise to her cheeks. "No. I didn't really think you would but I figured it couldn't hurt to check..." Her words trailed away. "Well," she said, and stuck out her hand, "thank you for coming by."

"My pleasure."

"Shall I write you a check now?"

"We'll add it on to the bill." Hiram smiled. "Eager to get back to your book, hmm?"

Kathryn looked down. She hadn't realized she was clutching Matthew's journal to her breast.

"Yes," she said with an answering smile, "I guess I am."

"Well, I'll see you next week." Hiram started up the cliff path. Halfway to the top, he stopped and looked back at her. "Just remember what I said," he called. "There's no disgrace in changin' your mind and takin' a place in town."

It was easier to nod than to argue. She was impatient for Hiram to be gone, impatient to get back into Matthew's world.

Moments later, she was.

June the twelfth, 1812

Sweet Jesus, I cannot believe what has happened! I am in possession of information that may well change the course of history.

Last night, I was at Charon's Crossing. Lord Russell was away, having gone to Jamaica on business for the Crown, and Cat and I were truly alone. We were almost carried away with passion in the darkness of the garden, but Cat regained her senses in time.

I know I should be grateful. God knows I would not wish to sully her innocence but I burn to make her mine, to strip away her gown and kiss her sweet flesh, to...