FicWad

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A distinct rhythm established itself over the next fortnight. Repairs progressed to structures and vessels. Men recovered and left the infirmaries’ care, or another shrouded form departed on a litter. I spent an hour each morning with Gato, took midday meal to the men at the harbor and remained to help and learn from James and Etienne. We worked until sunset, then returned to the villa. More often than not, James and I shared a bath and brandy before we dined.

The nights consumed me body and soul. Long molten hours of decadent sensual bliss became the center of my world. Gamboa and Christopher now occupied their own rooms, and a fortunate thing. I could not have contained my cries. As ruthlessly as he did battle, James set out to discover in extensive detail, my most sensitive places, the hidden secrets that set my body aflame.

I thought back to the night before as I set out to escort wagons of victuals and drink. Images of his head between my thighs brought a flush of remembered pleasure through me.

“Lili.”

I slowed the gelding at Gamboa’s call. He approached, mounted on the remaining steed of Arabian blood. A deep brown with black stockings, mane, tail and muzzle, the bay coloring accented the animal’s sleek lines. It had clearly put the terror of a battle at sea behind it. For it appeared bright-eyed and alert, yet relaxed.

“May I ride with you,” he queried. He’d adopted the island’s less formal manner of dress, wearing boots, tan breeches, a full, white shirt and his hair tied back at the nape. His sun-darkened skin had regained the gleam of health, his bright brown eyes their spark.

“Of course.” I had intended to seek him out later to speak with him about Gato. “How fares your wound while you are in the saddle?”

He fell in beside me and we rode knee to knee. “Better than I could have hoped. Walks Softly’s healing skills are invaluable.”

“Indeed,” I replied. “I wished to speak with you about the cat.”

“And I you. You seem taken with the creature and it is my wish that you accept him as a gift.” He smoothed a stray lock of black mane over the mare’s neck to lay with the rest. I noticed the largeness of his elegant, long-fingered hands. “Gratitude for your kindness to me.”

“Truly?” Happiness sparkled in my blood. I searched his face for any hint of reluctance.

He smiled, deepening the long dimples that framed his wide mouth. “It would honor me.”

“I accept.”

Gamboa chuckled. “You know, you have never even used my Christian name.”

“It occurs that I do not know it.”

“Victoriano Rafael Diego Adriano de Gamboa.” He shifted the rains to his left hand, placed the right over his heart and said, “Entirely at your service.”

I thought about that night when he’d seen me so scantily clad. “Which of those should I use?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

I had the distinct impression he flirted with me. “I rather like Diego.”

A brief shadow passed across his strong features. “My father called me Diego.”

I did not ask if the memory were a happy one. It seemed so, yet one later associated with loss. “Then again, Rafael is quite piratical.”

He adjusted the reins to handle them properly again. “Diego will do.”

After a moment, I asked, “Are you riding for exercise or to examine your ship?”

“Both. But in truth, I wished a moment to speak to you without James’ eyes upon me.”

“I believe this the appropriate moment to remind you a guest does not covet his host’s lover.”

“I have reminded myself of that many times.” Something in his deep voice made me believe it did make him uncomfortable to find himself in this position. “I only wanted to say this, when the time comes - and mark my words it shall - you find yourself realizing he will not love you, I hope you will consider that I am a very different man.”

His words struck a vulnerable spot within me. “How would you know what is in another’s heart?”

“My livelihood requires the ability to see straight into men. James is a good man, an honorable one, and a good and stalwart comrade to have at one’s side. But he is not a man to open himself to weakness.”

Slightly insulted, I tossed back, “You consider me a weakness?”

“We spoke of him, not I, Lili,” he replied, voice low and potent. “I have spoken my piece, and shall not mention this again.”

“I believe that best.” I tried to sound cool, though even I heard the waver in my voice. Something inside urged me to heed his words, to do something, anything to try to protect myself. Logic told me the time for that had long since come and gone.

“Please do not shy from me now.”

The sincerity and gentleness in his tone swayed me. “Truth between friends is no cause for shyness.”

We finished the ride in companionable silence. The men had come to expect me and they cheered as I trotted the gelding across the common. It moved me how they’d accepted me as one of their own. I had come a very long way since that first night among them.

James came to greet me, helping me down and handing the leathers to another man. He led me by the hand to his office. We entered and he bolted the door behind us.

“I thought of you all morning.” His lips came down on mine and I stretched up to mold myself against him. Everything fit together so perfectly like this. I sighed into his mouth and he groaned. Mayhaps I could bind him to me with my body, I thought, holding his head to me.

He shifted the angle of his kiss, playing with my lower lip, sucking it gently. He often did the same thing to the petals between my thighs. The memories flooded me with heat. My bones melted. His hands moved over my back and bottom. Lifting his head a bit, he said, “Let’s stay at the cottage tonight. Away from everyone.”

I smoothed that wayward lock back from his forehead. “I’ll arrange everything and meet you here at dusk.”

He kissed me again, deeper, longer. By the time I walked from the office I trembled all over.

#

Etienne and I met each other in the hallway outside the dining room. He but set eyes upon me and smiled. Catching my elbow he leaned low to whisper, “You’ve been kissed and well.”

“A lady never tells.”

“A lady never goes into battle. Only a strong, independent woman.” He grinned roguishly. “Strong independent women always give their friends the tasty details.”

I laughed. “If you must know, yes.”

“A wonderful kisser is a treasure,” he said, winking. “Walks Softly can make your breeches remove themselves.”

I blushed and laughed until I hurt.

#

That evening I set out on the gelding to meet James. I felt almost giddy. Servants had stocked the cottage with food, a chest with ice, wine and brandy. Our clothes and personal things waited. I’d had them take plenty of drying clothes, bathing articles and clean linens. The stable boys arranged for a wagon with straw and rations for the horses.

James had changed into those abbreviated breeches I saw. Even in the dying light, his skin glistened with a light sheen of perspiration and the adoring touch of the sun. My heart performed a sort of tumbling lurch at the sight. I wondered if I would ever grow so accustomed to his beauty it would not affect me so.

He spotted me and seemed to make his farewells. Venganza stood tethered by his reins near the dock. James pulled on his boots, and had reached the horse as I approached. He mounted and we rode away abreast.

The silence between us hung heavily, charged with lingering arousal and anticipation. We stopped at the cottage, I gathered the bag of bathing articles, candles and a flint box while James put the gelding in the corral. I mounted behind him. He reached back and snugged me close. Instinctually I knew he was enjoying the feel of my breasts against his back, and found the thought extremely sensual. The ride to the falls passed slowly. I knew he would make love to me first thing. The waiting intensified the excitement.

He tethered the stallion and loosened the girth as I lit candles, placing them atop boulders and on the shore as well. The basket I placed atop a flatter rock at the pool’s edge. Almost the instant I set it down, James turned me in his arms and began undressing me. I found it sweet he paused to drape my garments over a stone, while his hit the ground like so much excess baggage. I pulled the thong from my braid, laid it aside and unbraided my hair. He swung me up into his arms and waded out into the water. I felt almost weightless as the water became deep enough to buoy my body. I leaned back over his arm. He adjusted his hold so I might arch back and trail my hair in the just-warm water.

I imagined how I must look, my breasts jutting up from the water, back and throat arched, eyes closed. The touch of his mouth on my neck made me flinch and shiver. He nipped me, then drew upon the tingling skin.

His warm breath fanned my flesh. “Do you have any idea how you tormented my mind before we became lovers?”

“I know how you tormented mine.” His teeth raked my collarbone and I sighed.

“I would lay awake at night with my cock like an iron spike, jerking on my clenched belly.” His admission sent a sharp thrill through me and my nipples pebbled. His warm mouth closed over one. I lifted myself higher and he growled. “You like the idea.”

“Yes.”

“Shameless.” He nibbled and played with my nipples like sweets. Lingering, savoring. I became wetter than the water.

“James.” I sat upright and he held me higher and closer.

I readily twisted when he shifted me. In water up to his chest, I allowed him to lift my legs over his shoulders and enter my body. He held my bottom, bounced me upon him weightlessly until I begged for release.

“Clench me with your quim, Lili. And I shall give you anything.”

My body obliged. I surrendered.


CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

When we returned from the falls much later, James saw to the horses while I pillaged the food stores for our dinner, and went through the house lighting lamps and candles. I’d put clean clothes into the basket we took with us. Dressed in them, we met in the kitchen. Eza had packed roasted chicken, rice with shrimp and olives and fresh bread. We shared a plate and James fed the shrimp to me.

I smiled and thought for that at least he had proved easy to train.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“No.”

“Come to bed with me to play.”

The man did have a considerable appetite. I poured us a brandy, watching the amber liquid swirl by candlelight. Glancing up at him, I returned, “What novel experience will you offer me?”

“I am confident I can provide some new sensation.” He leaned against the stretch of work space where we’d stood to eat, all leisurely male assurance.

“Your word on that, captain?”

He nodded. Voice lowered to that intimate hush, he said, “You have it.” I watched him pick up the basket we’d carried to the falls. He held out his other hand.

I placed mine in his much warmer and larger one, and followed him upstairs. The candles and lamp I had lit up here earlier shed subtle light. I’d opened the window as well and the ocean breeze flowed in like surf. The servants who brought our things up here had turned back the freshly-made bed. I set the brandy aside on the chest-of-drawers. I had ridden back barefoot, so I had only to undress. Turning my back to him, I dropped the breeches to the floor, left on my underpants, shirt and short corset. My slightly damp hair hung loose. I pivoted, picking up the brandy.

James had removed his boots and shirt. He sat upon the bed’s edge. The flickering light bathed him, accentuated his golden coloring, cast shadows under those heathen-high cheekbones. I saw he had disarmed, laying sword and pistols upon the bedside table. The basket he’d brought up rested on the floor beside.

I glanced at the pistols. “Are those loaded?”

“Always. Come share that with me.” His tone made my belly flutter. It required a moment to realize he meant the libation. I started to sit at his side. He pulled me into his lap. “With me. Not beside.”

He kissed me between sips, the warmth of the brandy mingling in our joined mouths. The heat spread as he coaxed my tongue into his mouth and drew upon it. As if he held me captive by that alone, I submitted. When he released me, I felt quite dizzy with pleasure. He took the brandy from me, placing it on the bedside table as well, then shifted me from his lap to the bed. I laid there, pressed down by the weight of his gaze as it moved over me. After the intensity became almost too much to bear, he removed my garments.

Something in his eyes made a primitive female instinct spike. I slid my feet up the mattress, bringing them closer to my bottom and bending my knees. I kept them pressed together. He had none of that. Turning, he curved his big hands over my knees and opened them wide. He scooted his hips up closer to mine, smoothed his hands up my thighs until his thumbs met atop my mons. I felt the petals there unfurling for him as his thumbs continued down the seam of my body. He spread me gently, exposing that magical convergence of nerves.

My breath seemed caught in my lungs. I began to shake as he coaxed me into full-blown arousal. Wetness of desire ran from me. He ceased the torment and sank two fingers deep into the sheath of my body. I felt my cheeks pink as he withdrew them and marked his chest with my slickness. He pushed them back in to the hilt, brought them to his mouth.

“Your body makes honey for me.” He dipped into me again, dragged a shiny trail across his ridged belly.

He scooted back some, brought my leg over his shoulder and applied his mouth, adding to the sensual torment. My pelvis lifted beyond my control. He drank from me, quenched himself with me. I heard a noise. Yet, could not focus my wits. Then I smelled rose oil. My eyes opened. James lifted his head to look at me. My gaze snagged on his hands. He set the open vial on the bedside table next to the brandy.

“You asked for inimitable. Trust me,” he murmured. Then his tongue returned to tease me and my eyes closed again. His fingers moved in me, then one touched me in a place that made me roll half up from the bed in shock. He ignored my reaction, drew upon the nubbin, and his finger pushed carefully into that second opening. The oil I realized he used eased his entry, and a shock of unique erotic sensation streaked through me. I felt pinned to the bed. Immobile. Two fingers sank into my sheath, one into my bottom, his tongue thrummed that receptive bud mercilessly. In a rapid flash of libidinous fire, I climaxed.

James retreated from my body, moved to wash his hands in the basin left by servants, then returned. He had a sip of brandy, stretched out on his side. Quite undone, I lacked the motivation to do more than attempt respiration.

He traced me with his fingertips, dipping into my navel, lingering upon the responsive skin around it. In sudden realization, I observed, “You haven’t even taken off your breeches.”

“I assure you I shall get to it.”

I found it disconcerting he had shattered me without having to finish undressing. After a few minutes of lazy, nibbling kisses and his questing fingertips, I began to tingle a bit in more sensitive places. He gave my chin a little teasing nip, then pulled away. The gleam I had seen before had returned. It made me anticipate some new devilry. When he picked up our discarded garments and came toward the bed, I sat up and considered attempting escape.

I said, “I believe you intend use for those other than the usual.”

He replied softly, “Yes.” Assessing me, he added, “This can go easy or hard. Choose.”

I decided for my own sense of self to fight like bloody hell. I used moves Walks Softly had taught me for fighting hand-to-hand. James knew them, and worse, how to counter them, He tied my hands to the bed’s short posters at the head, ripped his shirt in half and bound my ankles to the posts at the foot. Held fast and spread for his pleasure, I panted, “You bastard.”

He stood at the bedside, not winded one whit, not a hair disturbed in its smooth club. As if to further mock me, not even that maverick shorter lock fell forward. He tilted his head a bit, staring between my thighs. Almost absently he revealed, “A Chinaman from Canton signed with my father when I had reached but ten winters. He taught Walks Softly and I to fight like he and his countrymen.”

“So you have all pertinent information,” I ground out, “I shall bite anything coming close enough.”

“I look forward to it.” He slowly rounded the end of the bed, changing his viewing angle. He removed his breeches and I gawked for a moment before I caught myself. My mouth watered as he caught his flexing erection in his hand and stroked himself as he stared at me.

Salacious sensation rushed from my belly to my pelvis. I clenched my jaw, determined not to give anymore away than I he could see.

“You’re getting wetter by the moment,” he said, “and you’re swelling.”

I urgently wished to close my legs and hide such evidence. “I hope you are enjoying this.”

“You are,” he countered, all silky sexual menace and confidence.

My nipples pebbled. He growled. My inner muscles squeezed and I could tell by his expression he saw it.

His voice lowered to that familiar hush. “You have the most beautiful cunt.”

A little moan escaped me.

James released himself, walked back around to my side. He sat close enough our hips touched. The warm skin against mine caused another spasm inside me. He covered my slick, swollen flesh with his hand, then lightly slapped it. The vibration and rush of vulnerability, mixing with sensual enchantment made me scream and twist in my bonds. At once, I shook as if taken with fever. He exposed my sensitive trigger, then repeated the gentle, though brutally effective smack. I trembled so hard my teeth almost chattered. He leaned low, head close to the flesh he tormented, whispered, “Do you wish for mercy, or pleasure?”

“Pleasure.”

He alternated the sweetest, plucking kisses exactly there, with the calculated slaps. I knew I made a spectacular amount of vocal noise, though could not account for a single word. James changed tactics, untied me and put me facedown across his lap. The first whack to my bottom sent a rush of wetness down my thighs. As the sting lingered, he sunk his fingers into me and I clamped tight around them. Again the deliberate vacillation. After what seemed ages, he flipped me over, bearing me to the mattress under him, his hips stretching my legs wide.

“Kiss me, Lili. Kiss me and make love to me.”

I held him to me, arms and legs wrapped around him as he pounded himself all the way to my heart.

My climax began and I held him all the tighter. He roared, guttural and primitive. Powerful bursts of his attainment made me cry out again and again.

James embraced me harder as we both shook. I only realized tears streamed down my cheeks as he kissed them away, tasting them with his tongue.

He whispered my name. “Lili. Lili.”

#

I awoke in the night, sensing a cold bed. Two hours candles burned. I saw James sitting in the small chair at the dressing table. The lock of hair in his hand I recognized. He gazed down at it, thoughtful and sad. I did not speak. Yet, he sensed me.

“My brother suffered from a condition of the heart.” Moments slid passed. “That was how I knew you bluffed that first day aboard the Vengeance.” Another long silence as I waited, pulse erratic. “Walks Softly and I always sheltered him.”

That explained the letters, the boy’s pleas for liberty despite his limitation. It made me understand why he had remained with their parents at an age James had roamed with his indian brother.

James rubbed the lock between his fingers. “Another trader brought word Mother had been having signs her time approached. Walks Softly and I rode through the night to reach home. Mother had gone into labor early.” After a time, he spoke again and his voice emerged thick with emotion. “The physician from Savannah did not expect Henry to live. Walks Softly hardly slept for a month. We protected Henry’s life with our own. Yet, in the end, we could not save him.”

I crawled from the bed, went to stand at his side. Almost afraid to touch him, I reached out. He snatched me into his lap. His arms shook as he embraced me and buried his face between my neck and shoulder. His body jerked and I felt wetness against my skin. I held him as fiercely as he did me, desperate to absorb his anguish.

Muffled and pained, he whispered, “I can’t rid my mind of images of my mother rent by cannon shot.”

What did one say to something so horrible? I could do nothing but offer him the comfort of my stroking hands. He quieted under them, seemed to recover his composure.

“Let’s go back to bed,” I suggested.

Wordlessly, he carried me back there. I continued to caress him, gentling the aggression seething inside him. He touched me, ate me with his gaze until I nearly wept again at the tenderness, and took me again into carnal splendor.

#

I woke the following morning with a smile tugging at my lips. Finding myself alone in the room, I put on my shirt and descended the stairs. James stood out on the porch beyond the open door, feet braced wide apart, wearing breeches and boots, his hair loose in the sea-borne wind. I could tell he had his arms crossed over his wide chest. The masculine posturing in the pose made me smile wider. Last night I had seen under that pirate king exterior to the warm, real man inside.

He half-turned, hearing me approach, I suppose. My smile vanished and a twisting heavy thing thudded where my heart had only a breath ago. Winter dwelt in his crystalline eyes. An iron curtain had fallen over his face, separating us.

Separating him from the rest of us meager mortals.

I could not begin to imagine what happened.

In a low, detached tone, he said, “My apologies for my behavior last night. I shall not lay such upon you again.”

“Is that what this is about?” I heard the helplessness in my voice and forced myself to have courage.

“Get dressed. I have work to do at the harbor.”

“Stop using that tenor with me, James Garrett.” I stepped closer, staring up at him and meeting his glacial stare. “Do not presume to think I shall accept punishment in some idiotic attempt to salvage your manly pride.”

He didn’t even respond to me. “Dress. I shall wait with the horses.”


CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I kept studying him for some sign of a way through that wall as we rode. He hailed Etienne at the harbor, said to me, “Have him escort you. Good day.”

I bit my lip. Having never had my loved ones slain, and had to make myself strong and powerful enough to avenge them, then be left to grieve, I consigned myself to not knowing how it affected one’s mind. Etienne’s smile faded as he approached.

“This is not the way a woman should look after a night of loving. Did it not go well?”

“The night went beautifully. The morning went straight to hell.”

“Let’s go on foot,” he said, helping me down. He signaled for a man from his crew to see to the gelding. “I shall leave the advice giving for our Indian. He knows James best.”

“Is he at the villa?”

He shook his head and turned me in the direction of Walks Softly’s house. “I made him remain home this morning. He’s driven himself far too hard.”

Walks Softly sat on the porch. He rose as we approached, and his black eyes saw straight into my soul. He clasped my hand as we halted face-to-face. “Did he harm you?”

His curiously cool tone made me wonder what swift current flowed beneath. “Only my feelings.”

Relief seemed to flow from him. “Let’s go inside. Tell me everything that passed between you.”

I did, sipping tea and having breakfast as the tale unfurled. The earliest, more intimate details snared Etienne’s most rapt attention.

“Did you get to bite him?” he asked intently as I tried to omit nothing from my disclosure.

I had to smile. “Unfortunately, I was too busy screaming.”

“Ah.” He flashed that rogue’s grin and said, “How delicious.”

Walks Softly shot his lover a stern look that made the Frenchman chuckle.

“What did I do wrong?” I queried. “Why would his anger become directed at me?”

“I feared this,” Walks Softly breathed wearily. “Above all else, I feared this.” He continued to hold my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “He threw himself into the business of revenge, never grieving until now. But too long has passed. Too much has happened. The delayed mourning turned to poison, Lili, and his feelings for you opened his heart enough for it to pour out.”

“So I am to accept blame for this?” I hoped no one would hold their breath in anticipation of that farfetched event.

“He may well have already begun to shift his residual anger to you. At the very least, his vulnerability to you will bait his temper.”

Etienne made a very French noise of disapproval. “Can you discuss it with him, mi amour?”

“I will try.”

I replied, “Is it possible this shall pass? He’s not unreasonable. Mayhaps given a little time, he will realize the foolishness.”

Walks Softly shook his head. “I wish I had the answers. He’ll be at the harbor. I’ll go see him after he’s had a while to cool.”

I thought to myself his ’cool’ was precisely the problem.

After we’d spent an hour training with blades and bows, Etienne walked with me as I returned to the villa. After a few moments I asked, “Why do men have such difficulty dealing with their emotions?”

“I suppose because we are taught that strength means not showing them.”

“How did you and Walks Softly manage to overcome two separate masculine egos?”

“Same as in any relationship. One side must bend.”

I glanced up, judging the heavy, gray-lined clouds and wondered if it would storm. After a little silence, I asked, “It wasn’t you who bent, was it?”

He chuckled. “Decidedly not. I wished to have him in bed, but I did my best not to get caught.”

“Is that what’s between you and James?” I’d glimpsed something the first time I’d seen them together, and a few of James’ comments had deepened the belief.

“He thought I would hurt his brother by being faithless. I doubt he yet believes I have no desire for my old ways.”

“Is it difficult for you having to hide your relationship? Not touching freely, minding your words?”

He laughed out loud. “My, my, cher! Your recent sexual adventure has sharpened that curiosity of yours.”

“Is it?” I pressed.

“Sometimes.”

I considered holding my tongue, then responded, “It’s just that after what he introduced me to, I find myself conjecturing about what you and Walks Softly do.”

He didn’t hesitate a breath. “I knew you’d get to that. I have teased Walks Softly about it unmercifully, telling him good tutors would cover all subjects, and that we should let you watch.”

Despite the distasteful scene with James, I found my spirit lifting. “You must have horrified him.”

“Completely.”

A butterfly flitted lazily across the path ahead of us. My sense of purpose returned and I resolved to see my lover through this difficulty with all the compassion, understanding and love I could.

#

After I fed Gato, I spent a while with him in the courtyard. The door from the now almost empty infirmary opened and my brother appeared.

“Is it safe?” he asked, dubiously eyeing the cat.

“Quite.” I beckoned. “Come sit in the sun with me. I’m grateful for your company.”

He settled himself in the grass, giving a little wince as he adjusted the angle of his upper body. “Gamboa means to sail as soon as supplies and men are suitably loaded. I shall go with him.”

I smiled, scratched Gato’s ears. He eyed my brother, though seemed unconcerned. ‘He does not regard having you aboard as an unfavorable omen?”

“Apparently not.” After a moment he added, “Nor having a woman on as well.”

“I have not changed my mind, Christopher,” I told him. “I shall remain here.”

“I didn’t mean you, Lili. I meant Eza.”

That brought my full attention to him. “She agreed?”

A frown line appeared between his straight brows. “Why wouldn’t she? I intend to install her at my bachelor’s residence in London. She’d enjoy every luxury.”

So skewed in his logic as to almost make me laugh, my brother clearly had failed to view this from Eza’s perspective. “Like bloody hell you will. I will not stand for that girl to be taken from the freedom and beauty of this island, where she walks with her head high, and be relegated to a secretive existence behind closed doors in a country whose feelings toward her would prove as cold and dismal as the clime.”

His frown deepened. “I would protect her. She’d have me there as much as I can manage.”

I felt like punching him. “How generous of you to offer the occasional fuck to break the monotony.”

“Lili!” He clapped a hand to his ribs. The outburst must have pained him. Good. In a less forceful tone, he continued, “It wouldn’t be that way.”

“Explain it to me. How will making that sweet girl your whore in a foreign country make you her champion?”

Sounding a great deal too much like our father, he remarked, “Good Lord, that mouth of yours knows no restraint.”

I sat up straighter, turned more fully toward him. “If you want her, walk beside her in the sunshine and proclaim it before all. Do not dare attempt making her your dirty little secret.”

“Keeping a mistress is a civilized custom-”

I thumped him right where I knew it would hurt the most.

He barked, “Hellfire!”

“That’s for believing you have the right to make a pet of her!” Gato stood and stepped between Christopher and I, gazing at him, tail twitching. I put a hand on him and he sat down, somewhat mollified for the moment.

“How could I do anything save make her my mistress?” he queried.

“Tell polite society to go to the Devil and make her yours. I couldn’t care less if you marry her or no. That’s her decision to make. But, this is the stand I had to make.” I got to my feet, stared down at him. “Prove yourself as much of a man as your sister.”

He called after me, but I ignored him and went inside. I stalked about until I found Eza placing clean linens in our bathing chamber. Closing the door to insure our privacy, I said, “My idiot brother seems to think himself lucky enough to have your affections.”

She blushed and lowered her eyes. “I haven’t disgraced myself, miss.”

I took the stack from her hands and stuffed it in the shelves of the armoire. “I’ll make certain you have protection against a baby if you do, Eza. You make love with whomever you wish with my blessing and approval. I just want to clarify my position on this.”

Her eyes lifted. They’d gone large as saucers. “Please do not be angry.”

“Oh, I am furious with him. All I can say to you is, if he’s earned the favor of some benevolent god and you love him, do not settle for being his secret.”

“You are not against him …,” she blushed under her dark skin, “him choosing a woman with Negro blood.”

“I’d be honored to have you as my sister,” I replied.

She burst into tears and hugged me tightly.


#

James did not return for the evening meal.

Christopher and his Eza had gone suspiciously absent some time ago. Gamboa and I sat out on the verandah. The servants had served and withdrawn as I requested become their custom. However, instead of dining with their master, I sat in a bit of an awkward silence with a man who had made his intentions known.

“Surely,” Gamboa began, “he lingers making certain the stores of spirits are loaded onto the Folly. My apologies, Lili. You lose his company because of me.”

I knew duty did not keep him from here. “I arranged for his meal delivered to him.” Sensing Gamboa’s gaze upon me, I looked up from pushing wine-poached fish around on my plate.

Again I saw that naked, covetous longing. In a tone that raised the hair of my nape, he said, “Nothing could take me from your side.”

“You mustn’t speak of such things,” I admonished.

“You are right.” He stood, bowed formally. “I am not fit company for you tonight. Please excuse my presumption in speaking ill of my host. Enjoy your meal.”

“Wait.” I stood as well. “Mayhaps it is terrible of me, but would you escort me down to him?”

He held me with those bright brown eyes, then murmured, “I would do anything you asked.”

I quickly dashed upstairs to swallow my dose and clean my teeth. We went to the stable to fetch our own horses. Just the final evidence of the sun’s ending reign tinged the darkening sky. The clouds I had seen earlier had cleared. Stars winked like shattered crystal. Frangipani sweetness hung heavily in the air. When we reached the town square, I could see light in James’ office. Out in front of it, I dismounted.

Gamboa bid, “Hand me the gelding’s reins.”

“I should keep him in case …” My cheeks flushed and I wished to reclaim the admission he surely knew I had just made.

“I shall return the horse. Whatever happened between you, he will not be able to deny himself your body.”

I placed the leathers in his hand. “Thank you.” I turned and hurried to the door. I heard my escort ride away as I tried to door and found it barred. I knocked and waited, heart thundering wildly.

“Who is there?”

“Lili.”

He opened the portal, gaze going from my face to Gamboa riding away. Something in him softened just a little as he stepped back. I entered. James slid the bolt behind me.

The light must have come from the bedroom, for we stood in near blackness. My heart seemed to echo more than cannon fire.

“I can apologize for this morning,” he said, low and silky-rough, “although I cannot make any vow not to react as badly again.”

“You hurt me.”

His voice sounded as it had last night, thick and heavy with emotion. “Only in sending you away can I insure I do not once more.”

In the dark, I pressed myself to him, my hands sliding up around his neck to pull him down to me. I found his lips with mine and the taste of his mouth made me damp and hungry. A sound of abandonment soughed from deep in his chest and he held me hard to him, kissing me as though he intended to swallow me whole.

He carried me to his bed, and the tenderness in his hands made me shiver and weep. His words as he entered my body, spreading me, claiming me, broke my heart.

In that anguished tone, he whispered, “You should run away from me.”