Rapture's Rendezvous
“And will you play for me?”
“I think not.”
“Who do you usually entertain with your music?”
Maria felt a blush rising, knowing that she could not reveal to this fine class of a gentleman that she was mainly used to playing on the streets of Pordenone. She doubted very much if this was a custom of the Americans. “Myself,” she quickly blurted.
Michael laughed deeply, opening the door, stepping aside, bowing slightly, gesturing for her to enter before him. “I'm sure that's no fun,” he said, then offered an arm once again as he led her down a narrow, dark passageway.
“Playing my violin gives me much satisfaction,” she said. “No matter if I am alone while playing it.” She had hated it when her Mama had forbid her to play any longer in Pordenone. Oh, how she hungered for the opportunity of doing this again, but she now knew that was behind her. Forever.
She tensed when she heard many different noises surfacing from the rooms on each side of her as she passed by them. Above all else, women giggling and their taunting of men rose above it all, making Maria blush anew.
“My cabin is at the far end, away from all these others,” Michael hurriedly added, having seen her-uneasiness. “I'm sure you will find it to be quite pleasant.”
Maria's eyes widened as a beautiful young girl swung a door widely open, revealing herself in her half-nude attire, with her breasts fully exposed above a torn chemise.
Michael hurried Maria along, almost yanking her from the spot. “Just a gambler having some fun with one of the loose ladies who have chosen to board this ship.”
“But, she looked … frightened….” Maria whispered, swallowing hard. “Wasn't she trying to flee from that cabin?”
Michael laughed gruffly. “Caroline? Are you kidding?” he blurted. “She beds up with any gent who wears trousers.” He eyed Maria stoically. “And you'd best watch out for her,” he quickly added. “You also are wearing trousers. She might even try to get you to bed up with her.”
Maria stiffened, feeling a sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. “Such a disgusting thought,” she said, shuddering.
Michael doubled over with laughter and reached for a doorknob. “I do have me an innocent one at my side, don't I?”
“Innocent?”
“There are many ways of the world that I fear you may become acquainted with even before you reach American soil, unless you agree to let me protect you from them.”
She set her jaw firmly. “I can take care of myself.”
“And who might that fellow be who has been watching over you? I saw no wedding band on either of your fingers, so concluded he must be a blood relation. Am I correct in assuming that?”
Maria had almost forgotten about Alberto. Oh, how could she have? They had never been apart. Did this blonde American have a way of making her lose her wits? “Yes. He is my kin,” she answered. “He is my twin brother.”
“Damn it, you say.”
“Yes. And may I ask you something, sir?”
“Michael. Please call me Michael.”
She cleared her throat nervously. “Okay, Michael,” she said, then added. “Can I ask where you are from?”
He opened the door widely, stepping into total darkness, except for what the small porthole emitted in wavy grays onto the low ceiling. “Good ol’ Saint Louis, Missouri,” he said. “In America, of course.” He suddenly tensed, aware that he had just blurted out what should have been kept confidential. Damn. Damn. He knew that she would cause him to have a loose tongue. God. She was too beautiful.
Maria laughed. “How funny that name is.”
“America?”
“No. Saint Louis.”
“Yeah. I guess it is at that,” he mumbled, searching for the wick of a whale oil lantern, then struck a match and lit it.
Maria stood straight-backed, watching the soft glow of the lantern, with her eyes growing wide, seeing the way in which this cabin was furnished. It was as though she had stepped into a grand hotel suite, of which she had seen pictures in books. “It is quite fancy,” she said, almost afraid to step onto the highly polished floor. Her gaze traveled more around her, seeing plushly upholstered furniture in a beige leather fabric.
But the one piece of furniture that grabbed her attention most was a bed that filled the full depth of the far end of the room. Not a hard, uncomfortable bunk or bed of leaves … but a true … bed.