The Pirate and the Puritan (11 page)

The
Sea Mistress
glided
deeper into the hidden cove’s green-sloped arms. Sunlight turned the water’s
surface a living carpet of molten gold. Palm trees sprang from a pristine white
beach. The clear blue water turned pale green, then liquid crystal as it
caressed the shores with rhythmic whispers. The island’s sensual beauty
threatened to seduce her as effectively as a whiff from Drew’s jacket.
Realizing the danger she was in, Felicity stood and paced the confines of the
cabin instead.

What did Drew plan on doing with
her? He had mentioned his need for discretion. Perhaps he planned to persuade
one of his disreputable associates, the owner of the lone ship, to return her
to Barbados. The thought chilled her. Drew might be no better than a common
criminal, but he was a known evil. Further harm to her tarnished virtue might
not be the greatest threat she might have to face, after all.

She returned to the padded bench
in front of the window. The sinking sun threw its last powerful rays across the
water, dropping a burnished gold veil over the cove. But then the idyllic
sunset she braced herself against changed to something altogether more
frightening. Men filed onto the virgin beach, looming like wild beasts in the
orange glow. Finding the island deserted would have disturbed her less than the
decidedly uncivilized inhabitants ruining the sand’s white luster.

The ship’s steady slide to shore
brought sword-wielding ruffians, worse than any of the usual harbor rats she’d
seen before, into heart-stopping clarity. Through the tangles of their unkempt
hair, an occasional gold earring caught the light.

Answering jeers and shouts
drifted from the deck above. Scathing taunts from Drew’s crew blistered
Felicity’s ears but sounded unmistakably friendly. Clanking metal and scurrying
footsteps drowned out some of the overly descriptive greetings.

In the purple haze between dusk
and dark, the light of a lantern guided a launch to shore. Immediately, she
recognized Drew in the front of the small boat. Torches had been lit on the
beach and the throng of beast-like men awaited his arrival. When he reached the
shore, they surrounded him. He took command, his broad back straight and
forbidding against the wild, licking flames that outlined him in an unearthly
haze.

His tangled, shoulder-length mane
enhanced his role as leader of the pack. If he peeled off his shirt he’d be one
of them. No, he wouldn’t be one of them. He’d still be their captain or king or
whatever he was to these fiends. Which meant he was more dangerous than the
most savage of the unruly lot.

A hollow silence drifted down
from the decks above. She’d been abandoned on the empty ship. A dull headache
wrapped around her skull. She attributed it to hunger and couldn’t help
wondering whether Drew and his clan planned an exotically hedonistic feast.
Perhaps they'd sacrifice a virgin. For once, she found the bright side of her
little indiscretion. She paced the room, allowing anger as a welcome
replacement to her anxiety.

Drew had never mentioned she was
to be his prisoner. To ensure he knew that, she wouldn’t await his instructions
like a helpless captive. She slipped her arms through Drew’s coat and secured
its two buttons over her chemise. The garment, designed to fall to the top of a
man’s knees, covered her to mid-shin. Decently shielded from lecherous eyes,
she strode intently, if not altogether confidently, to the door.

She stopped after one tentative
step into the companionway. A knocking against the ship’s side muffled the
distinctive splashing of water. She listened intently, almost convincing
herself it was nothing but a loose rigging, but at the same time finding it
hard to breathe.

The noise began to inch its way
up the ship’s side. She darted back into the cabin. After she yanked the portal
shut, she frantically looked for a weapon or a place to hide. The wardrobe in
the corner mocked her as she glanced its way. She wouldn’t use that option
again.

Heavy footfalls approached the
cabin in a rhythm she didn’t recognize as Drew’s. The easy opening of the
cabin’s door silenced her frantic thoughts. A dark shadow slipped into the
room, whisking away any hope of escape.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Drew.
The stranger was not as tall, but wider, thicker. He stood as solid as a tree
stump.

“Miss Kendall, do not be afraid.
My name is Solomon. The captain sent me to take you to the other ship,” said
the shadow.

“I’m not afraid,” responded
Felicity before she’d decided whether she was or not. Solomon’s voice resounded
deep and rich like molasses. His crisp pronunciation went a long way to dispel
the picture of the beastly creatures crowding her mind.

“You should be afraid, Miss
Kendall. Take my hand. We must hurry.”

“I’d like to speak to the
captain, please.” She hoped she sounded stern but polite. Crisp pronunciation
or not, she wasn’t going anywhere with this new threat.

Warm fingers wrapped around her
wrist, followed by a tug that pulled her forward, proved he had other plans. “I
don’t have time to accommodate your insolence. I’ve been ordered to move you to
the other ship before the others come aboard.”

Solomon dragged her through the
portal and down the passageway. In light of his revelation, she agreed with his
decision to leave. When the thugs lurking on the island overran this ship, she
wanted to be on the other vessel. Though she didn’t like his manner, common
sense urged that she follow quietly.

Solomon helped her up the steps
leading to the main deck, touching her as stiffly as if she were covered in wet
varnish. Why had Drew sent this rude man to take her onboard the other ship?
Did he find her as inconvenient as Solomon obviously did? The fact that the
very idea hurt her feelings warned her all over again that she mustn’t let Drew
slide further past her defenses than he already had.

When she reached the open deck,
she took her first breath of fresh air in what seemed like an eternity. A warm
breeze brushed her cheek and rustled her hair. She shuddered, drinking in the
sweet summer air. With the men and torches gone from the beach, the
night-enshrouded island rivaled the golden seductiveness of late afternoon.
Stars dusted the tropical paradise with a soft white glow. The reflection in
the water shimmered with the illusion of a thousand fallen celestial bodies. A
large sliver of moon draped an incandescent path across the lagoon.

She wrapped her arms around
herself and turned up her face to the sky, bathing in rays of silver light. Her
hand absently caressed her arm though the wool of Drew’s jacket. Bursts of
liquid sensation spread though her body, pooling in her most private recesses.

She turned to find Solomon,
needing conversation to distract herself from the euphoria conjured by this
mystical place. Her every nerve ending tingled. Fingers of sea breeze slithered
under Drew’s long jacket and crawled up the backs of her legs, intimately
touching places she’d forgotten existed. She would have believed Drew had cast
a spell on her if she didn’t already know her own secret weaknesses were
boiling too close to the surface.

“Solomon?” She heard the taut
edge of panic in her own voice.

Solomon had been bent over,
untangling something on the deck. When he stood to face her, she saw him
clearly for the first time. Even with the infusion of light from the
star-strewn sky, his features receded into the night. The dark blue of his silk
brocade jacket and vest were a few shades lighter than his skin. Black pants
covered his stocky legs and his black boots were well polished, catching bits
of soft starlight.

“We’ll wrap you in this and I’ll
lower you to the launch.” Solomon held up a net. He began to walk toward her
with the obvious intention of throwing the dirty mesh over her head. If his
approach had not distracted her from her gawking, she would have been bagged
like an oversized fish.

“That is a terrible idea. The net
might break.” She hoped her logic dissuaded him.

The only dark-skinned people she
knew were slaves. She’d seen the written proof of Drew’s inhumane practices,
but flesh-and-blood evidence shocked her all over again. Drew had to know she’d
be furious if he sent a slave to do his bidding. Surely he hadn’t forgotten
their conversation at Linley Hall. Obviously, her opinion of him didn’t matter.
His caring had only gone as far as her physical illness, and she’d been fool
enough to interpret it as more than what it was.

“You’re a slave.”

He stiffened, and she realized
the insensitivity of her comment. She meant the censor in her voice for Drew’s
actions, not to demean Solomon.

“I’m the quartermaster of this
ship.” Thinly veiled hostility replaced his cool politeness.

He stepped toward her and grabbed
her waist. Before Felicity thought to pull away, he swung her impersonally over
his shoulder like a sack of flour. He strode to the side of the ship, and for a
moment she had the unsettling notion he meant to toss her overboard.

“This was my second choice.” He
climbed over the ship’s side and made his way down a rope ladder. She squirmed,
trying to get him to put her down. He halted his swift and sure-footed descent.
“Please stay still. If I drop you, the captain will not be pleased.”

The white foam lapping at the
ship looked less crystalline and more deep and murky from her view several feet
above the water. Blood rushed to her head, making it pound all over again.
Breath squeezed from her lungs with Solomon’s every movement. Putting a
poultice on his animosity for her reigned in her mind.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen
to you, Solomon,” she squeaked. “Maybe I can help.” Speaking proved difficult
in her undignified position. His indignant grunt stopped further commentary.

“It seems to me you’re the one in
need of help. I think you’d fare far better in our company if you would
remember that.”

Silence followed the rest of
their descent to the rowboat waiting at the waterline. Solomon set Felicity on
her feet, and the small craft lurched violently. She clutched his shoulders,
suddenly thankful one of her childhood demands had involved learning to swim
with her brother. That battle she’d won.

When they both settled into the
boat, Solomon took up the oars and guided them out to sea. Felicity blamed
herself for the strain with him. The man’s careful speech should have warned
her of his pride and struggle to disassociate himself from the typical
assumptions made because of his skin color. Her thoughtless words had sounded
like an accusation.

By the reverence with which he
spoke of being quartermaster, she surmised Drew had given him a position of
importance on the ship. Though Solomon had avoided her tactless comment, she
guessed he was a slave despite the title. Solomon was the name inscribed on one
of documents she’d found among Drew’s possessions. She was almost sure of it.

They slid along the side of the
other ship. Shadowed red letters hugged the black hull. When the first rung of
a flimsy rope ladder came within her reach, deciphering the name of the vessel
was forgotten. She pulled herself up while Solomon remained occupied securing
the small rowboat. Once he realized her plan, he grabbed for her ankle and
succeeded in halting her progress.

“You’ll make me fall,” she called
over her shoulder.

He released her, then hurried up
behind. Upon reaching the top, she discovered hurling her body over the side
was harder than she’d anticipated. Stuck with one leg over the railing and the
other groping for a foothold, Solomon came up behind her, sending her over the
top with a shove. As she stood up from her collision with the deck, she noticed
a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“I am responsible for your
well-being. If you act without waiting for my instruction again, I’ll have to
restrain you. I do this only for your own safety.”

He turned and walked away before
she could comment on his provisions for her safety. The bruise on her backside
said otherwise. If he would only soften his attitude toward her, maybe they
could help each other.

He lit a lantern at the portal
leading below deck. “Follow me to your quarters. And don’t touch anything.” He
disappeared down the companionway without waiting for her.

The ship’s interior reflected the
polished simplicity of its exterior. Every line seemed built for speed and
maneuverability. Solomon unlocked a portal at the end of the passageway, and
Felicity discovered the exception. A room not nearly as large as the cabin on
the
Sea
Mistress
, but stuffed with twice as many furnishings,
appeared through the door Solomon pushed open.

He stepped aside and, with a wave
of his hand, gestured for her to enter. “These will be your accommodations for
the rest of your stay with us. The captain wishes you to make yourself
comfortable.”

She hesitantly entered the room,
wary of what she might find. Color overwhelmed her senses. Deep reds,
burgundies, purples and greens vied for attention. More subtle hues of gold,
yellow and soft brown blended in exotic prints on tossed cushions and heavy
swaths of material hanging from the walls, creating a tent-like atmosphere.

An oak four-poster bed was
crowded into the corner, a mound of pillows hiding the headboard. The chaotic
decor represented a multitude of cultures. Where the main cabin on the Sea
Mistress stood untouchable in its elegant perfection, this room invited
relaxation like an overstuffed feather bed.

The smell of strong cheese
drifted from a round pedestal table. A silver platter loaded with a variety of
cheeses, breads and fruits rested atop a silk scarf of burnt orange and red.
Next to the food sat a silver decanter inlaid with flat, dull stones.
Felicity’s awe at her surroundings waned as her hunger increased.