A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) (16 page)

Louisa paced the deck, feeling like a caged animal.  They had been in Jamaica for nearly two weeks now, and she was anxious to get on their way.  She had gone ashore several times with Kit, but was forced to spend most of her time aboard while he went about business.  Louisa had been curious to see the Jamaica of the seventeenth century.  She and Doug had been there on vacation once, but she never actually saw Kingston.  They stayed at a resort in Montego Bay.  She tried to picture Kit at a resort.  What would he look like with his hair cut short and his face clean-shaven, lounging by the pool with a tropical drink in his hand?  She had to admit that she simply couldn’t see it.  Kit was so at home in his surroundings, that she couldn’t picture him anywhere else.  The thought of him with his hair cut, wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt, seemed just ridiculous, and she gave up on it.  She liked him just as he was.

Louisa had enjoyed their trips to Port Royal.  The city was a kaleidoscope of sound and color
, with people from various countries seen on the streets and in the markets.  The strict moral codes of European nations didn’t apply here, and people were drinking, gambling, and whoring quite openly.  Kit led her past the solid stone walls of the fortress, fortified by cannon, and into the heart of the city where she actually saw several white women walking along with their male protectors. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed a meal as much as she had at Morgan’s Tavern.  After weeks of eating salt pork, hard biscuit and the nasty pottage, she was drooling at the smell of roasting meat and potatoes, but the best part had been sliced pineapple and mango for dessert.  Louisa hadn’t had a fruit since she left the
twenty-first century, and she savored every bite, asking Kit to buy some bananas and pineapples to take back to the ship.  He was a little suspicious of bananas, but he liked the pineapple, which he’d tasted on an earlier voyage. 

“Are any of these men pirates?”  Louisa asked as she looked around the crowded street. 

“More than a few, I should say, but most of them congregate closer to the docks.  This part of town is favored by British subjects and sailors.”

“Where is the slave market?”
She couldn’t help wondering where all those wretched people were held.

“It's not far from the quay.  Makes it easier for the owners to bring them to market
, and for the buyers to drag them off to their ships.  Convenience is everything,” he said sarcastically.  “Now, why don’t we go to a regular market and see if we can find you something pretty?”

Kit led her to a bustling street market where numerous stalls fought for space under the broiling sun, their colorful awnings providing welcome shade for sellers and shoppers.  Louisa was drawn to the mountains of tropical fruit, but Kit steered her further down toward the silks and jewels.  Luisa thought
giddily that it would be nice to buy a bikini and go swimming, but she had to dismiss her thoughts and follow Kit through the crowd. 

She had to admit that she was scared.  The idea of how easily someone could snatch her and deprive her of her
freedom left her too afraid to take more than two steps away from Kit.  This was a different world, where life was very scary without the protection of a man.  Kit rarely let go of her arm when they walked around the town, and she was grateful.  His sword was swaying at his left hip, distasteful, but completely necessary, and a pistol was tucked into his waistband along with a dagger in his boot.  Her man was armed to the teeth. 

Kit stopped in front of a stall selling jewelry.  His eyes lit on a necklace of silver and
larimar.  He held it up for her inspection.  “What do you think, my sweet?  Will you try it on for me?” 

She had to admit that it was beautiful and agreed to try it on.  The cloudy blue stone looked just right lying against the creamy skin of her bosom
, the chain heavy and warm from the sun.  Kit threw the owner a few coins and told her to keep it on.

“Perfect,” he said as he led her to a stall selling silk.  Louisa had to admit that she loved the colorful selection of fabrics and ribbons.
  She ran her hand over the cloth, enjoying its smooth texture.  The colors were varied and vibrant, shimmering in the morning sun. 
So, this is shopping seventeenth century style
, she thought.  She reached for an embroidered shawl the color of twilight.  The silk was so fine, it slid through her fingers. 

“It matches your eyes, Louisa.  Shall I get it for you?”  He didn’t even wait for her to
reply before paying for the shawl.  Louisa threw it over her shoulders, despite the heat.  The silk felt wonderful against her skin.  “Why don’t you go and choose a pineapple and some of those yellow things you are so fond of, and I’ll be right back.  Don’t worry.  I’ll keep my eye on you,” he promised when he saw her panicked expression.  “You have my word.”  He handed Louisa some silver coins and led her to the stall.

Louisa selected two pineapples, three mangos
, and a bunch of bananas by the time Kit reappeared at her side, looking satisfied.  “Ready to go back?  It’s getting awfully hot, and you look like you would be much more comfortable wearing nothing but that necklace.”

“Is that why you bought it?  To buy sexual favors?”  She slid her arm through his, kissing his cheek.  She had to admit that he was really good to her.  It was nice to feel protected and desired.  She had been with Doug for so long that he completely took her for granted.  She wondered if Kit would do the same after several years
, and then she wondered if she would ever get to find out.

***

Louisa was glad to get out of her clothes once they got back to the ship.  It was hot as hell in the cabin, so she opened the windows, letting in the fresh breeze.  The steward had cleaned the cabin, but he had a morbid fear of open windows, believing the air outside to be full of unseen dangers.  She supposed that could be true in the city, but out here, the air was fresh and fragrant; bringing with it the smell of sun, sea, and unnamed spices. 

Kit had unbuckled his sword, put away the pistol
, and was carefully pulling off his shirt.  He winced as he lifted his left arm; his wound still causing him a lot of pain.  Louisa wished she had some painkillers to give him, but there was nothing.  She stretched out on the bed, enjoying the cool embrace of the sheets, and closed her eyes while she waited for Kit to come to her.  They flew open in surprise as something silky touched her wrists.  Kit bound her wrists with her new shawl and tied them to the headboard.  His eyes were like pieces of burning coal as he looked at her, no longer smiling. 

“What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve dreamed of for a while,” he said softly, pushing her legs apart.  Louisa was torn between anxiety and overwhelming desire.  No one had tied her up before.  She knew Kit wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, but she was still tense.  The idea of being bound did not appeal to her at all. 

“Untie me, Kit.  I don’t like this. Please.”

“Not just yet, my sweet.  Keep quiet, or I will have to gag you.”  He pulled out a kerchief and blindfolded her, making her heart race.  She wanted to kick him, but he held her, pinning her to the bed.  For a few moments, he did absolutely nothing, allowing the tension to mount until she felt like a tight spring, vibrating at the lightest touch.  What was he planning to do to her? 

Louisa nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt
Kit’s lips on her inner thigh.  They were like butterfly wings, light and soft.  He kissed her a few times and stopped, waiting, making her squirm.  She thought he would kiss the other thigh, but he didn’t.  His lips trailed across her belly and then downward.  She sucked in her breath, expecting him to go lower, but he stopped again, running a finger between her breasts and then squeezing her nipple, first gently, then harder.  Louisa was shaking with desire, wanting him to go on.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned.

“Want to be gagged, do you?” Kit whispered, as he took her other nipple in his mouth.  “Keep quiet.” 

She felt his hard
ness against her thigh, but he seemed in no rush.  Instead, he slid down again, licking her thigh.  He was driving her crazy.  She nearly screamed with tension as his tongue slid inside her, probing and exploring.  He pulled out, teasing her mercilessly with the tip of his tongue, making her legs bounce on the bed.  His tongue was replaced by the tip of his cock.  Louisa arched her hips, but he pulled back again, laughing.  She suddenly felt him move up, and he was right against her lips.  She licked the tip, then wrapped her mouth around it, making him moan, teasing him the way he teased her, before he slid the whole thing into her mouth and then out again. 

Louisa
felt him shifting again and wondered what he would do to torture her next.  She gasped as he finally slid into her.  She came hard, her breathing ragged in her ears.  It didn’t take Kit long to join her.  He had been as inflamed as she was.  She was still shaking as he pushed up the blindfold, his gaze intense.  “I think you liked that,” he mused.  “I am almost sure.”

“You are an absolute beast,” she breathed. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.  Now, I must leave you.”  He began to get dressed.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” she asked, alarmed. 

“If you insist.  I was going to leave you like that until I came back from the slave market.  I am sure I’ll be ready for more by then.”

“Kit!” He untied her and kissed the tip of her nose. 

“I have to go.  We will be sailing with the tide tomorrow, and I want to try my luck one more time.  Pickings have been slim the past few days.  Oh, I got you a little something at the market.”  He pulled a ring out of his pocket as he sat next to her on the bed.  The ring felt heavy on her finger.  It was gold with a large sapphire set in diamonds.  This was no delicate modern ring.  It was large and solid, weighing her hand down.  She had never owned anything so extravagant.  Louisa knew from her experience as an art restorer that a piece like this would cost a small fortune in modern times.

“A betrothal ring.  Do you like it?”

“I love it.  Thank you, Kit.  I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Oh, I think you did,” he answered, running a finger down her inner thigh.  

Louisa stretched out on the bed.  She’d take a nap while Kit went to the slave market.  He had managed to acquire a few people over the past ten days, but no one was particularly skilled.  He did get a rigger, but no master gunner or cooper.  The men were overjoyed to be aboard a British ship again, and were recovering from their ordeal as they prepared to set sail.  Louisa had to admit that Kit had been right.  The fate he offered them was preferable to anything else that might have befallen them. 

By the time Louisa woke up it was late afternoon.  The heat was beginning to subside, replaced by a cool breeze blowing through the open widows.  She was hungry.  She poured some water into a basin and freshened up before going up on deck.  What she wouldn’t give for some deodorant and a razor.  Kit didn’t seem to be put off by her hairy armpits or legs, but she felt self-conscious.  Ah, a bikini wax.  How nice that would be.  At least there would be something decent to eat today.  They had been eating much better since putting into port, and Louisa had even convinced Cook to make some fish.  He presented her with something that might have been fried Tilapia, making Louisa clap her hands in delight.  It tasted wonderful. 

There were very few people on deck when she came up.  Since the ship had been in port
, the sailors had been getting a well-deserved rest, taking naps and going ashore to drink, dice, and search for willing wenches eager to take their coin.  The sails were furled, the vessel bobbing gently on the calm waters of the Caribbean.  The necessary repairs were completed at last, and the hold was full of supplies that would see them to Virginia.  There wasn’t much to be done at the moment.  Louisa sat on a barrel, leaning against the mast.  It was nice just to sit and enjoy the lovely weather.  She would wait until supper.  It was only an hour away.  She wished Agnes would spend more time on deck.  The girl was pale and drawn, spending most of her time in the small cabin, sewing and rearranging their few possessions.

Louisa rose from her perch to look over the side of the deck.  Was that Kit?  He was walking toward the ship slowly, carrying something large and heavy.  Louisa couldn’t believe the stubbornness of the man.  Didn’t he realize his wound would start bleeding again?  It would never heal properly at this rate.  He went about his business as if his arm hadn’t been practically lopped off.  Kit stopped for a moment to catch his breath and continued walking, his sword slapping against his
thigh.  Was that a carpet?  Why would he buy a carpet?

“Mr. Willis,” Louisa called out to the cabin boy.  “Would you please help the captain? He seems to have acquired a very heavy carpet.”

“Right away, ma’am,” the boy replied, already heading to the ramp leading to the quay.  He skipped down the ramp toward Kit, who looked up in gratitude.  Louisa leaned against the railing watching their progress.  Kit held one side of the rug while the boy held the other, enabling them to walk faster.  Louisa’s gasped as she saw an arm come out of the wrapping.  That was not a carpet.  That was a person wrapped in something colorful.  She ran down the ramp toward Kit, her heart hammering. 

Louisa saw her face before she even reached Kit and
Daniel Willis.  Her eyes were closed, her skin sunburned and blistered, but it was definitely her.  “Anne!”  She called out.  “Oh, Anne.”  The girl didn’t seem conscious.  Her arm swung limply as the men carried her onto the deck.  Anne’s hair was dirty and matted; her gown torn to shreds, exposing her breasts.  

“Take her to her cabin,” Louisa told Kit.  “I will be right there.”

Louisa stopped by the galley for some fresh water and broth, and got some clean rags from Agnes.  By the time she got to Anne’s cabin, Kit had laid her out on her berth, having unwrapped the colorful blanket.  Louisa stifled a scream as she pushed aside the strips of torn fabric.  Anne’s chest was covered with livid blue welts.  “Her back is worse,” Kit said.  “She has been beaten, more than once.”

“How do you know that?”  Louisa put her hand to the girl’s face.  It was hot and sweaty.

“Some of the bruises are turning yellow, while others are still purple,” Kit answered matter-of-factly as he held up her wrists.  “She’d been fettered too.”

Louisa
took Anne’s wrist, searching for a pulse.  She could feel it under her fingers; faint, but definitely there.  She would be all right.  She just needed care.  “Kit, where did you find her?”

“I was
just about to leave the market when they brought her up on the platform.  I had to engage in a bidding war to get her.  I have very little money left.”

“How did she come to be here?”  Louisa thought that Anne had been taken to Africa and here she was in Jamaica.  “Did you see her mother?”

“No, I didn’t see Mrs. Collins anywhere.  The man who sold Anne to me was Dutch.  He must have either bought her from the pirates, or traded her for someone else.  I can’t really say.  He had a few others for sale.  She didn’t even recognize me, poor thing.  She collapsed halfway through the auction, which was actually fortunate, since it kept the others from bidding.  They want healthy slaves, although she would have fetched a considerably higher price had she been with child.”

“Why don’t you leave us?  I need to get these rags off and try to get some food into her.  Hopefully, she’ll come around soon.”

Kit just nodded and left the cabin, closing the door behind him.  Louisa turned her attention to Anne.  Her breathing was shallow, her eyes still closed.  Louisa dipped a rag into the water and began sponging Anne’s face.  She kept a cup of water aside for drinking and put it to Anne’s dry lips.  Anne’s eyes fluttered open in panic.  She stared at Louisa, unseeing, full of fear.

“Anne, it’s me,
Louisa Jamison.  You are aboard the
Gloriana
.  Do you remember me?”  The girl just stared, her lips moving silently.  Louisa gave her more water and continued to apply a wet rag to her face. 

“Anne, you
’ll be all right now.  Captain Sheridan will keep you safe.”  The girl closed her eyes again, a tear sliding down into the hair at her temple.  Louisa gently wiped the tear and smoothed the filthy hair away from Anne’s face.  Anne turned away, silent tears sliding down face.  She looked emaciated and broken.  Where was her mother?  Louisa thought it best not to ask.

Anne tried to
push Louisa’s hands away as she began to peel off what was left of her gown.  Anne’s body was covered with bruises, but the skin hadn’t been broken, which was fortunate.  Less chance of infection.  Louisa pulled off the torn and soiled petticoat and looked at Anne’s thighs.  They were much bruised on the inside, and smeared with dried blood.  So, she must have been raped, poor girl, and brutally.  Anne whimpered as Louisa began to wash the blood away, trying to be as gentle as possible. 

“Anne, are you badly hurt?”  The girl didn’t answer.  She seemed to be in shock.  Louisa finished washing her and took a clean shift out of her trunk.  She pulled it carefully over Anne’s head
, helping her to lie back down. 

“Go to sleep, Anne.  I’ll get Agnes to come and sit with you for a while.”

“Father,” Anne whispered through her cracked lips.  “Father.”

“He
’s not here right now.  Just try to sleep.  I’ll come back later.”  Louisa let herself out of the cabin, her eyes swimming with tears.  The poor girl had been through absolute hell, and now she would have to tell her that her father had committed suicide.  Anne would be left alone in the world with no one to take care of her or protect her.  Louisa went to get Agnes.  She didn’t want to leave Anne alone for any length of time.  God only knew what she might do.