by Linda Ladd
"You and Grace go on, Francis, and I will go with Meghan to see the bear."
Francis hesitated, and Caitlin laughed.
"Surely you know by now that I am able to take care of myself," she chided gently, patting her thigh.
When Grace and Meghan laughed, Francis finally nodded.
"Go ahead, then," he said. "But be careful. We will meet you shortly, over there at the refreshment booth, the one with orange fringe on the canopy."
Caitlin watched the couple move away toward the tent with the painted eye and smiled to herself. The two had been showing quite an interest in each other in the last few weeks, and if a romance between them was forthcoming, it amused her to think of Francis having to ask Trey, of all people, for permission to wed his sister. Or Beatrice, either, for that matter. She laughed as she strolled among the gaily festooned tents of the fairgrounds.
Small dogs dressed in tasseled vests and pointed caps leapt over each other and somersaulted in the air, while vendors advertised their wares in shrill cries, offering beer and sweetcakes and ale. Townsmen and commoners mingled with seamen and sailors from the nearby Hole, but the largest crowd surrounded the pavilion of the dancing bear. When they pressed their way to where they could see a small brown bear dancing at the end of a velvet rope, Meghan clapped her hands in delight.
"Look at the monkey, Caitlin! There, on his shoulder! He is wearing fancy little clothes like the courtiers!"
Caitlin smiled, having seen such sights before, but she knew Meghan had never been to a fair. She was glad Meghan was so engrossed with the spectacle, for it gave Caitlin time to scan the crowded lanes for Roger Swain. Her fingers closed over the note that had been delivered to her by messenger that very afternoon, and a thrill went through her to think her good friend was in London. If Roger was in England, he had to have come on the Anna with Christian. His message had been cryptic, only telling her to meet him at the dancing bear pavilion. She assumed he was wary of capture, but it worried her that he had not mentioned Christian.
Caitlin looked around at the crowd, searching for the familiar face with the black beard. It was just growing dark and torches were being lit throughout the lanes. At a nearby tent, crowds of ragged children clapped and laughed as Punch and Judy battled it out with a great deal of slapping and cursing. Caitlin began to grow impatient when Roger didn't appear, but her breathing stopped suddenly at the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man with black hair. Her heart twisted with loneliness for Trey. Although the Queen had sent for Trey after the attempt on her life, a fortnight had passed and he had not yet returned. But Roger's summons had lifted her heart considerably, and she scanned the faces around her again, smiling as she recognized him despite the heavily hooded cape he wore. He furtively motioned her to follow him.
"Meghan! Come quickly! I have seen Roger!"
The beginning of a protest died on Meghan's lips at the mention of Caitlin's lieutenant, and she immediately lost all interest in the bear and monkey.
"Is Christian with him?" she asked.
"I hope so," Caitlin answered, taking her hand, and Meghan walked eagerly at her side. For weeks she had listened in rapt fascination to Caitlin's stories about the Anna and her crew, and Meghan, more than anyone else, admired greatly the exploits of Caitlin and Christian Alexander. She had come to idolize Christian without ever having met him, and she was determined to marry him just as soon as she grew up.
They wended their way to the spot where Roger had disappeared into the shadows beside a deserted blue canvas booth. Just steps inside the alley between the tents, Roger came into view. Meghan stopped in her tracks, paralyzed at her first sight of the huge man. He had lowered his hood, and his shaggy gray hair and long beard gave him a fright- ening, bearlike appearance in the dim light. Meghan stared wide-eyed at him, but Caitlin showed no such wariness, throwing herself into Roger's arms.
Roger held her tightly for a moment, his dark eyes alert on the lane behind them.
"Roger! I could not believe it when I got your message! When did you arrive? Where are Christian and the others?"
Roger held her at arm's length, his eyes very somber, and Caltlin's happy expression slowly faded away.
"What has happened?" she whispered, her voice catching with sudden fear, and Roger frowned and shook his head.
"There be no easy way to say it, lass. Christian's been taken."
"Captured?" Caitlin gasped weakly, nausea congealing in the pit of her stomach. "Where?"
"On Cuba."
"Cuba! My God, what was he doing there?"
"He has a woman in Trinidad, and she betrayed him." He hesitated, and the look in his eyes stopped Caitlin's heart. "Enriquez took him, Cait, to El Morro."
"No," Caitlin murmured in horror, thinking of the evil little man with glittery eyes. "He killed Papa! He'll kill Christian, too!"
"The lad lives still, but ‘tis only because the Spanish dog awaits his son Diego's return from Spain. Christian has taken three ships from Diego, and Diego is out for his blood."
Caitlin's face blanched, but Roger took her trembling hands and held them tightly.
"Now listen to me, girl, all is not lost. Diego, Enriquez sails the Bella home to Santiago before a fortnight is out. We must take the galleon and hold Diego Enriquez hostage in exchange for Christian. The governor will not let his son die, no matter how much he hates Christian."
"Yes, yes, we must," Caitlin said, hope returning. "It would be our only chance to get him out. Where is the Anna now? Is she ready to sail?"
"Aye, she lies in the far reaches of the Hole, away from the naval vessels."
"Then we must sail on the next tide."
"Take me with you, Caitlin, please! I must help you save Christian!"
Caitlin had almost forgotten the young girl with her, but Meghan had been listening closely, and how her eyes danced with excitement.
"It will be a wonderful adventure, just like the ones you told to me! I must help you save Christian if I am to marry him!"
Caitlin's brows drew down as she realized for the first time it was not just Meghan she would have to leave behind. She would have to leave Trey. The thought knifed through her, but Christian's dilemma was too serious to delay her departure. If they did not leave now, there would be little chance to intercept Diego Enriquez before he reached Cuba, and Caitlin had no idea when Trey would be able to return. Distress mingled with anxiety as she contemplated his reaction if he returned to London to find her gone. But she quickly thrust the alarming vision aside; she had no choice, her brother's life was at stake. She took hold of Meghan's thin shoulders, her eyes intent.
"You must listen very carefully, Meghan, and you must tell Francis and Grace exactly what has happened. Did you understand all that Roger had told me?"
"Aye, Christian is imprisoned and will be executed if you do not stop the Bella and get Diego Enriquez."
"Good, that is exactly right. You must explain it all to them, so they will understand why I must go now. And you must give Trey a message when he returns. Do you think you can remember my exact words?
"Of course I can."
"You must tell him that I will await him on the isle of Saint James in the Windward Passage, and that he must sail the Glory there as soon as he can."
Meghan nodded, repeating the message almost word for word. Caitlin hesitated, her teeth catching at her bottom lip. "And tell him that I am sorry, but I had to go."
"Trey will kill you," Meghan stated matter-of- factly, "but I only wish you would take me with you."
"Trey would never forgive me for that, and besides, I need you to give him my message. But if you will do this for me, then I promise that I will bring the Anna back for you someday so that you can meet Christian."
A pleased grin lit Meghan's freckled face, and Caitlin turned to Roger.
"I must make sure that Meghan gets safely back to Francis, then I will meet you at the far side of the fair, where the river turns."
Roger nodded, then raised h
is hood and melted into the crowd, and Caitlin took Meghan's hand and hurried back toward the fortune-teller's booth. Now that she had a moment to consider Christian's danger, helpless and at the mercy of Enriquez, she was gripped with an icy terror. She knew full well the Spaniard's cruelty, and cold chills rippled down her spine at the memory of the way he had smiled as the ax fell upon her father. She brought Meghan to a stop when she caught sight of Francis and Grace examining some leather handiwork beneath a striped awning. She hugged Meghan close.
"I will miss you," she whispered. "Are you sure you can remember what I told you?"
"Aye, every word, I promise."
Caitlin smiled at her. "Then where is Trey to meet me?"
"At the isle of Saint James in the Windward Passage."
"Very good, but do not tell Francis where I am until I have had time to leave the fair, understand?"
"Yes, Caitlin," Meghan said obediently, and Caitlin hugged her close again before gently pushing her in the direction of her sister. She waited where she was until Meghan was safely beside Francis Durham, then turned and made her way through the jostling crowd.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Sail, Captain! Off starboard bow!"
The call of the lookout alerted Trey from where he stood near the helmsman. He moved quickly to the rail, grabbing the glass from the rack. The day was threatening, the choppy seas of the Windward Passage darkening to gunmetal gray as storm clouds rolled over the sun. He scanned the even line of the horizon until he picked up a darker spot, watching it intently until a patch of white flashed as a filtered sunray hit the canvas sail.
"Up, Jimmy," he hollered to a sharp-eyed youth standing near the mainmast. "See if she is friend or foe!"
Richard came up behind him, and Trey glanced at him as his cousin lifted his own spyglass to the far horizon.
"Is it Caitlin?"
"We will soon see," Trey said tightly.
His lips compressed into a straight harsh line at the memory of how he'd felt when he returned to London to find his wife gone. He had missed her departure by four days; only four damn days had kept him from preventing her reckless actions! He had sailed again within a week of her, and the crossing had been swift. Now the time he had been separated from his wife had grown to three long months, two of them added by Caitlin's own irresponsible impulsiveness! His jaw flexed and held, but he looked upward at Jimmy's cry from the sails.
"She's English, sir. A sloop dropping sails."
"It has to be her, then," Trey muttered, and he paced impatiently for the hour and a half it took for the Glory to close on the sloop, where it rocked at drag in the gathering storm.
When they were near enough to make out small scurrying figures aboard, he set his scope on the quarterdeck. It took only a moment to pick out one small figure among the rest, Caitlin's red hair vivid against the gray surroundings. His heard lurched with emotion at the mere sight of her alive and well. While he held his glass upon her, she lowered her own and sprang nimbly to the bulwarks, and with one hand clutched in the shrouds, she saluted him with her drawn rapier.
Trey's teeth were clamped together, suppressed rage roiling to blot out his relief at finding her safe. Damn her! After weeks of putting him through hell on earth with worry for her well-being, of searching the waters around the isle of Saint James, she had the damned audacity to greet him with an arrogant salute! He watched tensely as she jumped down, re-sheathing her sword before disappearing below-decks.
Trey slid his own glass together. His headstrong little wife had gone a step too far with this last escapade, but the time was at hand when he would make her answer for her wild, reckless behavior. She was only a woman, his wife, and it was time she learned exactly what that meant!
He stood in rigid anger as Richard gave orders to round the Glory in order to tie up with the smaller sloop. He kept his eyes on the quarterdeck, waiting for Caitlin to reappear, but she was not to be seen again. She does well to hide, he thought with grim intention. He swung down aboard the Anna while his crew lined up behind him at the gunwales.
A cluster of seamen stood on the decks of Caitlin's ship, a huge black-bearded man at their fore. Both crews eyed the other with distrust, many of the brawny tars warily holding the hilt of their cutlasses in meaty fists. Each knew their respective captains had reconciled their differences since the ambush on Los Gatos, but the crew of the Anna had not forgotten their defeat that day at the hands of those watching from the frigate's railing.
Richard boarded to stand at Treys side, and an uneasy silence prevailed as Roger Swain stepped forward with outstretched hand.
"The lass bade me welcome you to the Anna. I am Roger Swain, her second in command."
Trey's blue eyes held him. "Where is she?"
Roger's expression changed, alert to the deadly inflection in Trey's voice.
"She awaits you in the captain's quarters. Come with me."
Trey followed him up the steps to the quarterdeck, leaving Richard alone to face fifty pairs of very unfriendly eyes.
Trey thought not of the rain or Richard as he followed Roger through the dark passageways below. He was rigid with fury, anger ruling him until his long fingers flexed and unflexed with the desire to grab Caitlin and shake her senseless. He would teach her a lesson all right, one she would not soon forget, and it would be learned over his knee.
"She is within," Roger told him, gesturing at a closed portal. He stopped Trey as he moved to enter, grasping his arm in a tight grip. Both men were tall and big, and Roger's eyes came level with Trey's as most men's did not. "Do not think to harm the lass, Captain, or you will answer to me for it."
Trey ignored the quiet warning, pulling his arm away to thrust open the cabin door. He sent the bolt home before he even turned. The interior was dusky, and his eyes went first to a six-branched candelabra upon a center table. Caitlin stood just behind it, her face bathed in the soft glow. Her hair was loose, flowing to her shoulders, the coppery tresses glinting with rippling golden lights, and Trey's throat closed at the sight of her. She wore some kind of filmy gown of sheer black lace, patches of bare flesh revealed temptingly along her arms and legs and breasts, and he stared at her, his pulse throbbing in cadence with the blood pounding through his veins. Her glowing golden eyes captured him completely, and Caitlin smiled tentatively, her full pink lips shining, moist and inviting.
"I love you," she whispered, her voice atremble, and Trey stared into her exquisitely beautiful face, full of love and longing and uncertainty. His anger slid away, forgotten, unnecessary, and he knew only that the woman he loved was but a step away, to hold, to touch, to have. He reached Caitlin in two swift strides, and a cry of pleasure was wrenched from Caitlin as he crushed her to him, bringing her off her feet as he whispered her name over and over into the luxuriant mass of her hair.
Caitlin pressed herself against him urgently, her arms going around his dark head, all things forgotten, all things remembered, as their lips found a passion neither could control or describe or understand, a hungry, relentless drive to possess the other, to become one again, heart, body, and soul.
His lips ravaged hers, and she met the kiss with the same eager, insatiable need. Fires that had lain dormant while Caitlin awaited his return shot up in great fingers of all-encompassing heat as Trey swept her off her feet, and they tumbled to the bed together. A choked moan crept from deep within Caitlin's throat as his hard, unyielding body lay heavily upon her, his long brown fingers tangling in thick and fragrant soft ringlets, his lips scorching trails of flame to one closed eyelid, then the other, before his mouth teased the lobe of her ear. Trey's hand slid downward over a bare shoulder to the softness of her throat and Caitlin groaned as black satin ribbons were untied and parted, her own fingers groping desperately at the buttons of his shirt.
Caitlin felt soft and small beneath him, murmuring his name, her hands molding the muscles of his back, and Trey groaned himself, impatiently ripping sheer lace and all barriers between them. Tremor
s racked Caitlin as their clothes were discarded and their naked flesh came together, and she clutched him tightly, feeling as if she shared her very heart with him as the twin beats merged into one thudding, accelerated drumming. Together they reached the moment they sought when both gave themselves over to the blinding, shuddering ecstasy of their love.
Afterward, when they lay close together, still wrapped in each other's arms, Caitlin listened to the deep thud of his heartbeat, now slow and calm. Raindrops pattered softly against the windows across the cabin, but neither had spoken, nor felt the need to. As Caitlin idly traced her fingers through the dark down on his chest, Trey's lips nuzzled at her temple.
Caitlin smiled and shivered, turning her face upward to seek his mouth. The kiss was a long and languorous prelude for other delights, and when Trey rolled to capture her beneath him, Caitlin lifted long dark lashes to look into his eyes, her own glowing with sensual seduction.
"I came down here with every intention of making you pay dearly for leaving England as you did," he whispered, lowering his mouth to taste her shoulder. Caitlin laughed softly as she tilted her head to give him room to proceed further in his most enjoyable endeavors.
"And what changed your mind?"
"'Twas the gown in which you chose to greet me, I believe," he answered, his mouth muffled in her throat.
A devilish smile tugged at the corner of Caitlin's lips. "Truly? I was sure it did not appeal to you since it now lies in tatters upon the floor."
"It held from me what I most wanted to see, my love," he murmured huskily, and Caitlin sighed as his hands moved down her bare arms, then across the soft firm skin of her belly. "Perhaps I should take my hand to you now for leaving me as you did."
"No one could have suffered more than I these many weeks," Caitlin told him softly.