Hell Hath No Fury

Part 1

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." William Congreve

Ben ran his lips along Julia's neck and she arched her back in delight; she loved him although she knew not to tell him so. He had come to mean more to her than any man she had known and she had known so many. But Ben Cartwright was the only one who treated her as more than a commodity.

"I have to go now, Julia," Ben said, getting up and going to dress after kissing her once more.

"I've heard the rumors, Ben." Julia sat up, pulling the sheets around her. He looked at her, puzzled. "About you and Marie De Marigny. Did you think I wouldn't? Do you think that my life is so different from hers that I wouldn't know how much time you've been spending with her under the guise of visiting Marius Angeville?" She pushed the loose strands of hair off her face.

Ben's face clouded. "I don't know what business it is of yours if I have a friendship with Mme. DeMarigny." He pulled on his shirt and began buttoning it and then tucked it in his waistband.

"Friendship you call it? I call it foolish, She is nothing more than a thin-nosed snob, her and her cousin, D'Arcy. Well, I could tell you a few things…" Julia became more furious as she looked at Ben and thought of his kissing Marie and telling her how beautiful she was-and Julia hated Marie, had hated her even before she knew that Ben was infatuated with her.

Julia had first met Ben Cartwright years ago when he, as a young merchant seaman, had put into port in New Orleans. Julia was working at a small seaside bar as a bar maid and if she wasn't offended by the sailor, if he wasn't too drunk or stank too much, she let him taste her favors but only for a high fee; she knew she was beautiful and the men couldn't expect to have her cheaply. And Julia was saving to start her own place. She had visions of how grand it would be and that was what kept her going. After all, she had left her schooling-she didn't need to be educated to lie on her back and she had a natural aptitude for math so she saw no point in going on with it. Her "Julia's Palace" was what kept her working at the small bar that smelled of fish and men who had been out to sea for too long and hadn't washed for months.

And one afternoon when there wasn't much business, a young man in a pea coat, a striped shirt underneath it and wearing a watch cap sat down at one of the tables and asked for a beer.

"You're a pretty one," he said when she brought the beer over. He picked up the mug and looked at it. "A clean glass?"

Julia had laughed. She told him that yes, it was clean. Only when the place became busy were the glasses only dunked in a bucket of water and filled again. The merchant seaman had said that he'd have to learn to do his drinking early in the afternoon then and they shared a laugh. And because they weren't busy and because she liked this handsome young man with the friendly, dark eyes and the deep voice that warmed her like a good whiskey, Julia sat down and they talked for an hour or so until the place began to fill. The bartender called to her and Julia stood up but before she left him, Julia placed her hand on his arm and told him to come by after one in the morning if he wanted to see her and talk some more. "My name is Julia," she said before she left and he said that his name was Ben. He turned his head to watch her walk away and admired her well-shaped legs and her tiny waist and decided that he would be back.

Since the young sailor was to be in New Orleans for three days before his ship set off again, Julia spent every moment she could with him; he stayed at her small apartment on the second floor over the bar and after managing not to work as much as she usually did, Julia spent the days teasing and playing with Ben Cartwright, feeling like the young girl she was, and the nights sheltered in his arms where he told her of his dream to travel out west and to own some of the promise land, to raise cattle and to live in the fresh clean air and sun of that wide-open territory. And Julia told him of her plans of one day owning a grand gambling salon that she would name "Julia's Palace" and she would serve only the best whiskey, brandy and champagne and hire beautiful women to work for her at the tables. And the upstairs of the "Palace," she told him, would have elegantly furnished rooms in case one of her girls wanted to take a man upstairs and she, herself, would have the most elegant chamber of all and she would never have to be at a man's mercy again. Never. She would only take the lovers she desired.

Ben would stroke her hair as she lay with her head on his broad chest and listened to his strong heart beat and Julia had never been as happy as she had been over those three days and nights. But the time came for Ben to go, to leave again, to ship out and Julia felt a desperation she hadn't known she could; it was as if the ground was sliding away beneath her and she was falling into a deep, black abyss. She clung to him and for the first time as an adult, she cried.

"Now, Julia," Ben said, holding her, trying to soothe her and comfort her as she sobbed. "It's not as if you didn't know I would have to leave."

"Oh, Ben, I'll be so lonely without you. I don't know how I'll bear it." She felt embarrassed for losing her self-restraint, something on which she prided herself. Julia always tried to distance herself from emotional entanglement-it was how she had survived all she had suffered as a child. And now she had found someone she could love, someone she did love, and he was going away, leaving her.

"I'll be back," Ben said. "In a few months' time, I promise you that I'll return here. I promise." And with that, he kissed young Julia goodbye. But before he pulled away from her, he looked into her brown eyes and told her that she was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever known and that if by the time he had given up his merchant seamanship, she was still there, perhaps things could go further between them. He half meant it but it was also a way to ease the parting, not just for her but for himself as well. Julia told him to wait a moment and went back into her small bedroom. Ben stood by the door, anxious. He needed to report to his ship-they wouldn't wait for him-that he knew.

"Here, Ben" Julia said, handing him a silk hanky with lace tatting along the borders.

He looked down and saw a lip print on it. Then he looked back to Julia; she had rouged her lips and kissed the handkerchief. He bent down and kissed Julia again. "I'll keep your kiss with me always," he said and tucked it into his peacoat's inside pocket.

He turned to leave and then glanced back and seeing Julia, the tears still fresh on her white cheeks, he turned and violently pulled her to him and kissed her, then held her against him, his lips in her hair, and without another word, turned and left. Julia ran out onto the front balcony of her little apartment and watched Ben Cartwright walk back to the docks until he disappeared into the heavy fog that rolled in from the gulf, the air outside having the slight chill of lost love on it.