Silver Sea (40 page)

"No, I shouldn't think he could." He turned pensive, picking over memories. "There was a night at Harms Castle when Lady Clair saw me without my spectacles. She said that I resembled the Scapegrace, who had been such a man of mystery in London. They all laughed at the notion that Nathan Essex could be anyone of real importance, and I prayed that her words would be forgotten." Nathan moved away from her and went to the window to stare out over the gardens and, farther out, the cane fields. "Harms turning up here is too incredible to be a coincidence. Somehow he must have ferreted out the truth."

"What could he want?"

"You, of course!" he shot back with a harsh laugh. "Hunty has doubtless come to Barbados to
rescue
you!"

Adrienne had an absurd urge to laugh herself. "Well, we won't find out the truth by staying upstairs. Let's hurry and dress and go down to meet with Hortie." She paused to sigh. "I never liked her. She was horrid to me."

"Not to me. She made it possible for me to abduct you, you know. Hortie was my spy at Harms Castle."

Halfway through the door to the dressing room, Adrienne turned back, a gleam in her eyes. "Indeed? It sounds, then, as if she has come to Barbados to find
you
! I shall have to set her straight."

"Silly chit." He let her go. There wasn't time for more banter; he had to find a clean shirt. Still, when the door closed behind her, Nathan felt an unexpected pang, as if the air had gone flat without Adrienne in the room. The last time he'd had similar feelings about a woman, the object of his affections had been Eloise Sinclair. When she suddenly married Xavier Crowe, Nathan had felt as if he'd been poisoned, and the effects had gone on for months. Perhaps they were still going on.

It was hard to consider opening his heart again and taking such a risk, but then Adrienne was his
wife.
And she was nothing like Eloise.

* * *

Back in her own room, Adrienne wondered what the future would bring. Would she and Nathan have separate rooms, sharing intimacies only when he came to her bed?

After hurriedly washing and pinning up her long hair, she slipped into a round gown of thin cambric muslin, newly arrived from France. It was lovely to have a trunk filled with her own things... but where would she put them? Looking around her own bedchamber again, the closeness she and Nathan had shared so recently began to seem like a dream. Adrienne's own parents had never bothered with separate rooms. When she was growing up, sometimes she would stand outside their door in the morning, wondering whether they were awake yet, and always there would come the sounds of their mingled whispers and muted laughter. Their bed had been the center of their lifelong love affair, and from it radiated the successes of their marriage.

Why was it that the kind of closeness her parents had achieved seemed just out of reach for Adrienne and Nathan? Just as a wave of uncertainty rose within her, the dressing room door opened and Nathan appeared.

"Are you hiding from me, my little dove?" he teased. "Here, let me fasten your gown. One of a husband's more enjoyable duties, I perceive."

She was embarrassed to have doubted so soon and to be so relieved that tears crowded her throat. As he came up behind her, kissed her neck, and then began to close her gown, Adrienne cast her eyes down.

"Thank you," she whispered. Turning in his arms, she put her face into his shirt front.

"Are you all right?" Nathan tipped her chin up. His intuition provided the answer. "While we're downstairs, Philip and Retta will move your clothes into the bureaus in my—
our
dressing room. And I'll make space for you in my bedchamber as well. I thought we could make a reading nook for you in the corner opposite my desk. There is a bookcase in Horner's old office that we can move up here...."

The tears began to flow now and, liberated, she let them soak into his shirt. "Oh, Nathan—"

"That is, unless you'd rather have a room of your own."

"No!" Adrienne shook her head so forcefully that a curl fell over her brow. "I want a proper marriage."

"Last night I did promise to try, didn't I? Did you think I was having you on?"

"I—I thought perhaps I'd dreamed it all."

"No, darling." He held her close against him, soaking up the warmth and the imprint of her body. "It was quite real."

"Let's go downstairs now and see what Hortie has to say."

Nathan kissed her, wiped her eyes, and tucked her hand through the crook of his arm as they went down together. Orchid met them in the doorway to the library, looking agitated.

"Some maidservant in dere! Mr. Zach tell me you ask for her, but I don' understand, Captain." Lowering her voice, she hissed, "She has to do wit' Xavier Crowe, I suspect!"

"Mrs. Raveneau and I knew Hortie in England, Orchid, so there's no cause for concern. You've had breakfast brought in? My wife is hungry."

"Yes, sir." Orchid liked the sound of that speech. Her face lit up as she beheld her mistress. "Good morning, Mrs. Raveneau! You look happy."

"I am, thank you, Orchid." She beamed, and their eyes met in understanding. "And I am starving."

As they passed the old woman, Nathan murmured to her, "Don't forget to send Retta and Philip upstairs."

"I glad to do dat!" Seeing Captain Raveneau and his bride looking contented with one another was almost enough to offset Orchid's concern about Hortie.

Inside the library, Hortie was sitting on a long settee of Barbadian mahogany, a plate of raisin cakes and sliced fruit on her lap. Her sallow complexion and pinched features made her seem more unattractive than ever against the backdrop of West Indian lushness.

"Hello, Hortie," Adrienne said. "Don't get up. Sit and eat, and we'll join you." She walked over to the dishes spread over a table and made herself a plate of toasted and buttered plantain, sliced papaya, and raisin cakes.

"You—are his
wife
?" The words were spoken, in shocked tones, before she could think. "Were you both having all of us on from the first? Did you know his real identity?"

"The answer to both questions is no," Nathan said. He fixed himself a dish of food and poured coffee, then took a chair beside his desk. "Adrienne's father was afraid she wouldn't accept my protection at Harms Castle if she knew my real identity."

"We didn't decide to marry until after Captain Raveneau took me on board his ship," Adrienne added with a note of finality. She didn't think that they owed Hortie any further explanations.

"Lord Harms says that people call you the Scapegrace," the maidservant pressed Nathan.

"Let's talk about you, Hortie" came his reply. "Tell us how you and Lord Harms came to Barbados, and why—and what brings you to my home now."

" 'Twasn't long after you abducted Miss Beauvisage—I mean, Mrs. Raveneau—that he decided to set sail. I heard him talking to Lady Thomasina about his plans, and he said that he had a message to deliver to someone called Crowe, on Barbados. He wanted his mother to come with him, and that meant that I came as well."

"What on earth could Huntsford have to do with Xavier Crowe?" Adrienne exclaimed.

"He said he had met a business partner of Crowe's, and that man suggested Lord Harms might find opportunities for the future here." She poked her fork at a piece of plantain and frowned. "It was that business partner who told Lord Harms about your real identity, Mr. Es—I mean, Captain Raveneau—and your home on Barbados. I would wager that he came as much to seek revenge and to rescue Miss Beauvisage, as to form a business alliance with Xavier Crowe."

"The only real business Crowe's involved in is piracy." Nathan's expression was dark. "Thievery and murder."

Adrienne was pondering all the new information she'd just heard. "Hortie, did you say that Lady Thomasina is on the island?"

The servant bobbed her head. "Yes'm. She'll do anything her son asks, but I don't like it. Her health is failing, and he's too busy drinking rum with that Crowe fellow to pay any attention to his own mother."

Adrienne imagined her former employer out of sorts in a strange house: swathed in velvet, perspiring heavily, and ringing her bell to no avail. Perhaps she was sitting in a planter's chair, legs elevated, and unable to get up. "Poor Lady Thomasina!"

"And why have you come to Tempest Hall?" Nathan asked. "To warn us?"

"No, sir. There were too many servants at Crowe's Nest. I wasn't wanted. I've come here to ask for work."

Adrienne nearly gasped. "But, Hortie—what about Lady Thomasina?"

"She wanted me to leave, so that I could save Angus from Xavier Crowe's beastly hounds. They kept poor Angus cornered under the bed day and night, and I think Lord Harms rather hoped they'd get him in their massive jaws and murder the poor pup."

Nathan and Adrienne exchanged glances. "Do you mean that you brought Angus with you?"

She colored. "Yes. He's tied to a chair out in your gallery, sir. Philip has given him a bit of roast pigeon."

"For God's sake." Nathan walked to the glass door opening onto the gallery and spied Angus pacing in the sunlight, his pink satin tether stretching to the limit at each stop. When he saw Nathan, the frizzy terrier bared his teeth and emitted a low growl. "Simply splendid. Just what we needed: a devious, mean-spirited, gluttonous cur."

"I rather like Angus," Adrienne offered. "Besides, we owe Lady Thomasina that much."

"I sense that we're going to be drawn into another
situation,"
he muttered ironically.

"You are already in a
situation
with Xavier Crowe" was her tart reply. "As for Hortie, don't you see that her arrival here is the answer to our prayers? We've been needing a housekeeper to help Orchid, and Hortie would be perfect! Lily will be the head cook, Retta the maid, and Hortie can pick some other girls to train." She gave the Englishwoman an apologetic look. "You know, they have slaves here. I find it appalling, but there's nothing I can do—not yet, at least."

"I should be honored to become the housekeeper for Tempest Hall, Captain and Mrs. Raveneau." Her thin lips curved in a droll smile. "You see, sir, it was meant to be. You told me at Harms Castle that you wished to repay me for my help, and now that has come to pass."

"Hmm. Yes. And, I shall always be grateful to you, Hortie. I'm glad you're here, but..." He cast a dark glance toward the gallery, "I don't recall being indebted to Angus."

Adrienne's laughter lightened the mood. Standing, she smiled at Hortie. "Would you like a tour of the house? I'll introduce you to the rest of the staff, and we'll decide on a room for you."

"Can Angus stay with me? I promised her ladyship that I'd look after him."

The two women left the library then, leaving Nathan to pour himself more coffee and stare broodingly out the windows. Honeybees swarmed over the yellow tube flowers of a Lucky Bean tree growing near the bathhouse. Already it was hot.

Hunty and Xavier Crowe! Could it be? Even more unbelievable was the realization that he and Adrienne had only been married one day and already they were being drawn into another dangerous predicament.

Needing some fresh air, Nathan went outside to tell Zachary that he was going to ride south to inspect his new land. It was time to have a look at the fifty acres that would position him right next to Xavier Crowe, Huntsford Harms, and Cobbler's Reef, where so many unsuspecting ships had been lured to their doom.

* * *

Standing on one of Crowe's Nest's balconies overlooking the beach, Huntsford Harms wondered if it was possible to bake to death in this climate. Everything about Barbados seemed extreme to him, especially this lavish estate and the brilliantly blue surf that pounded against the sand below. When they'd first come to the eastern side of the island, Harms noticed that most of the trees and shrubs arched in the wind. Later he discovered that they remained bent over even when the air was calm.

Xavier Crowe had laughed when Huntsford mentioned this. "Yes, the wind has shaped them, just as we English learn to bend to the rigors of life here. Bimshire's not England, I fear, for all its delusions of grandeur!"

Indeed, Barbados was a study in contrasts. For every spectacular view of the ocean, sunset, or tropical flowers, there was an equally vivid image of acres of scrubby land where nothing would grow, or unpainted slave shacks being thrashed by the wind. Huntsford had discovered that he couldn't even swim in the ocean to cool off without being nearly killed by the treacherous waves.

"What do you think?" inquired the voice of his host as he walked onto the balcony.

"I think that it's not quite paradise after all."

Crowe regarded Huntsford, then touched a finger to his sunburned cheek. "Tsk, tsk. There's nothing quite as fragile as English skin, hmm?" Then he took snuff and looked out over his domain. "The rest of the island is rather more what you may expect; greener and all that. But I love my little corner all the more because of its wildness. No one bothers me, and my home is all the more splendid in these surroundings."

Huntsford wanted to ask about the shipwrecks he'd heard whisperings of during the voyage from England, but there was always a steely glint in Xavier Crowe's cerulean eyes that gave him pause. Sometimes it seemed that the glint hardened as Crowe's smile intensified.

"Your home is certainly splendid, sir, and my mother and I are grateful to be here." Huntsford was intensely curious to know the source of his host's money, for he didn't seem to grow crops, and although there was talk of a shipping business, Crowe didn't appear to work at all. "I am eager to be of service to you. As I've said, our mutual friend Frakes-Hogg felt that you and I could deal famously together."

"Are you, dear boy? I am glad to hear it. How grateful I am that Walter convinced you to come to Barbados before his death." He put on an expression of melancholy. "I always trusted his instincts about people, and I have been needing an... assistant."

As they walked out into the corridor, Huntsford wondered whether he dared ask exactly what he would be assisting with, and decided to continue to keep silent and wait. "I am eager to help, sir, and I am a hard worker."