Journey of the Wind

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  her gaily colored skirts as she went, showing a great deal of calf and thigh as she flicked

  the garment, giving the men on the dock a good view of her wares.

  Turning her attention to the sea, Rylee could see the black ship coming in, but it

  was alone with no other ship behind it. She bit down on her lower lip, worry making

  her heart pound in her chest. She moved back to the center of the wooden planks and

  began pacing again, turning her eyes constantly to the heaving waves in search of

  Andre’s ship.

  When Louis’ ship docked and he came ashore, he walked right by Rylee without so

  much as a flicker of an eye toward her. She started to call out to him but thought better

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  of it. He made straight for Antoinette who curled around him as though she were a

  viper and he a sapling to the cheers of those gathered.

  “Be he all right, Cap’n?” someone in the crowd called out, and Rylee held her

  breath waiting for the answer.

  “He took a chunk of the Voleur from her stern,” Louis snapped, turning to point to

  his vessel. “He’ll be all right until he puts his gods-be-damned foot to land then I’m

  going to beat the little shit black and blue!”

  The crowd roared with laughter and Rylee groaned. She had caused this and Andre

  would be paying for her actions still again. She swiped at her tears and walked to the

  end of the dock, searching for the sight of black sails against the lowering sun.

  “She been doing that long?” Louis asked Antoinette in a low voice.

  “Since Andi hied himself after ye,” Antoinette replied. “Scared she might lose her

  sugar daddy.”

  “Scared she might lose a man she’s starting to have feelings for,” Louis corrected.

  He draped one massive arm around his woman’s shoulders. “You should have seen the

  way she held his head while he puked. Not many women will do that for a man unless

  she has feelings for him.”

  Antoinette sniffed. “Don’t mean squat,” she said. “She knows to what side her

  bread be buttered.”

  “‘Tis more than that, Toni,” Louis said. He glanced back at Rylee. “She knows she

  hurt him and now she’s suffering for it.” He hugged her to him. “Should be a right

  interesting situation when that fellow on Clare Island finally makes his way here.”

  “You think he will?”

  Louis grinned devilishly. “Oh I can guarantee it!”

  * * * * *

  The sun had long been down when Rouyce called out a sail had been spotted.

  Torches along the dock had been lit and though most of the crowd had vanished an

  hour before, there were still those hanging about. Louis had taken his woman home

  with a demand that someone come tell him as soon as his brother docked.

  “Is it Andre’s ship?” Rylee called up to Rouyce, but the man ignored her, hawking a

  wad of phlegm off the crow’s nest and into the water to emphasize his disdain.

  Tired, hungry and with a headache plaguing her, Rylee sat down on the dock and

  let her bare feet dangle in the water. She smiled sadly as little fish came up to nibble at

  her bare toes. She was still sitting there when Andre Corsair came to sit down beside

  her.

  “You been here all day?” he asked. He was still shirtless and barefoot.

  She nodded, unable to speak past the lump of relief that was clogging her throat,

  unable to look at him. Instead, her head was lowered, her eyes on the hands in her lap.

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  “He looked well,” Andre said after a while, and when she did not react to his

  words, he reached out to take her chin and turn her head toward him. “Did you hear

  me?”

  “Aye,” she said, moisture gathering in her eyes.

  “I saw the child,” he said softly. “He too is well.”

  She searched his eyes for the truth of his words then sighed with relief when she

  realized he was being honest with her. “Thank you, Andre,” she said.

  He shrugged and let go of her chin, turning his attention once more to the dark

  waters rolling against the end of the dock.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she told him. “His name just slipped out.”

  “I know,” he said. “My pride was stung, that’s all.”

  Neither spoke for a long while and when he became aware she was crying softly, he

  put his arm around her and drew her to him. She laid her head on his shoulder and he

  lowered his cheek to her hair.

  “What will Louis do?” she asked.

  He threaded his fingers through hers. “Beat me senseless, no doubt,” he replied on

  a long sigh. “I took a big bite out of his pretty little ship. He’s not likely to forgive that

  any time soon.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t let it worry you, bébé,” he said. “I’m a big boy and I can take my lumps when

  I need to.”

  She looked up at him. “But you shouldn’t have to. I am the cause of this. I—”

  He put a fingertip to her lips to silence her. “I love you, Rylee,” he said. “I would

  take a thousand beatings if I need to in order to have you at my side.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him too. She had come to that

  realization during a sleepless night. Despite the wrongness of it, the betrayal, the

  myriad other reasons she should not, her heart had notions of its own and it was

  reaching out to Andre Corsair against all the odds and regardless of the outcome

  hovering on the horizon. A part of her wanted to run from this man and another part

  wanted to cling to him, to reach out to him and hold him close. Her body was warring

  with her mind.

  “Let’s go home,” he said, getting to his feet and helping her up. “My stomach feels

  like a punching bag already.” He glanced around the waterfront.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked, afraid he’d say Louis. She wasn’t ready for

  a confrontation with that surly male.

  He looked pointedly at her bare feet. “Someone to drive us up to the house.”

  “I’d rather walk,” she said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Aye.” She slipped her arm around his waist as his went around her shoulders.

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  “You’re turning native, bébé,” he said with a wicked grin.

  The warmth of him was soothing as they walked up the dock. She could hear the

  steady beat of his stalwart heart beneath her cheek and wanted nothing more than to

  have him lying atop her, his flesh melded to hers. For the first time in her life she

  thought of herself as being the wickedest of women on the face of the Earth but

  somehow that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

  L’endroit Sûr shined like a ghostly galleon in the moonlight as they walked beside

  the oyster pathway up to the house. The bright white of its exterior was a beacon that

  seemed to be welcoming her home. She understood as she had not before what a safe

  place Andre’s home was to him.

  Walking beside him up the curving stairs she could feel his weariness and her own

  headache that had grown worse for lack of food. She thought perhaps once she had him

  to bed, she’d come back downstairs and make herself a sandwich.

  As though he’d intercepted that thought, he stoppe
d on the stairs and looked down

  at her. “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “No, but that can wait. I want to—”

  “Go,” he said, releasing her hand he’d held all the way from the dock. “I’m just

  going to fall into the bed anyway.” When she would have protested, he shook his head.

  “I mean it. Go. Get you something to eat. I’ll be fine.”

  Rylee nodded and turned to go back down the stairs.

  After she’d fixed herself a sandwich of cold turkey and sliced tomatoes and a

  tumbler of tea, she took her meal out on the back veranda and sat down in the swing,

  putting the tea on a little table beside the swing.

  The jungle behind L’endroit Sûr was noisy with night insects and the rustle of

  creatures walking through the foliage. A tantalizing scent of gardenia floated on the air

  and the smell was soothing. Just a hint of a breeze stirred the leaves of the banana

  plants and the palm fronds and cooled the air to perfection. The sound of the sea was

  calming.

  As she sat there swinging gently and eating her food—her headache slowly

  dissolving—she wondered if it were possible to love two men at the same time. She

  suspected it was because when she honestly examined her feelings she knew she still

  loved Alsandair as much as ever and that the growing emotion she had for Andre could

  be nothing save love.

  “Why ain’t ye with Andi?”

  The sneering voice startled Rylee and she jumped, nearly dropping her empty plate.

  She snapped her head toward the sound to find Antoinette glaring at her. The woman

  looked dangerous with her blowsy hair and barely there blouse that dipped so low on

  her chest even in the moonlight Rylee could see Antoinette’s dusky areola.

  “I hadn’t eaten and—”

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  “The man risked his life for ye today and ye’re out here taking the night air,”

  Antoinette snapped, coming closer. “Selfish bitch, ye are.”

  Rylee raised her head. She had the cut of this woman’s jib and knew if she showed

  fear or the first sign of weakness to her, Louis’ woman would pulverize her.

  “Andre told me to go eat. He wanted to sleep and didn’t want to be bothered with

  me,” she said, knowing that would satisfy the tawdry slut.

  Antoinette nodded. “Men be like that,” she said, and without Rylee inviting her,

  came to sit beside her in the five feet long swing. “My Louis weren’t in the best of

  moods just a’thinkin’ of the damage that brat did to his precious ship.” She turned

  sideways in the swing to stare at Rylee. “Andi’s gonna get his arse whipped come

  morning.”

  Rylee didn’t know what to say to that. She imagined there was nothing to say and

  nothing to be done about it. The two men would settle their problems without

  interference.

  “What, milady?” Antoinette ground out. “No protesting Louis beatin’ yer man?”

  “What good would it do?” Rylee asked. “Louis will do whatever he wants and

  Andre will take it like the man he is.”

  “Aye, he will. And what do ye feel about it?”

  “I caused all this by calling him the wrong name,” Rylee admitted. “If anyone

  should get a beating, it should be me.”

  Antoinette’s white eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?” she asked. “What name did ye

  call him—as if I didn’t know?”

  Rylee’s shoulders slumped and she turned to put the plate on the table beside the

  tea. “May I ask you something?” she countered.

  The whore sniffed. “Don’t have to answer if’n I don’t want to,” Antoinette stated.

  Taking a deep breath, Rylee twisted around on the swing until she was facing her

  companion. “Do you love Louis?” she asked.

  Antoinette snorted. “Well, there be love then there be love. I suppose ye could say I

  love him, though it goes deeper than that, I reckon.”

  “There’s something deeper than love?” Rylee questioned.

  “Hells bells, of course there is!” Antoinette said as though talking to the village

  idiot. “Ye have to respect a man, trust him and be willin’ to obey him if’n ye want that

  something deeper, wench. Ye can love a man and still not feel them things for him.

  That’s more lust than love. Ye get me drift?”

  Rylee thought about it for a moment. “Aye, I think so.” She bit her bottom lip.

  “Have you ever loved any other men?”

  Antoinette’s pale eyes narrowed. “Whatcha mean?”

  “Was there another man you loved before Louis?”

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  Those pale eyes rolled. “Aye, there was. Thought the sun rose and set in that prick, I

  did,” she said. “He took me cherry—which was all he was after in the first place—then

  went harvesting in the orchard for more. Popped many a cherry that summer, he did,

  a’fore somebody set the press-gang after his lyin’, deceivin’ arse.”

  Rylee had a good idea who that someone had been.

  “What yer asking is if ye can love two men at the same time,” Antoinette stated.

  “Can you?”

  “Of course ye can!” Antoinette snarled. “The trick is in jugglin’ the two.”

  A deep flush spread over Rylee’s face. “I couldn’t do that,” she said.

  “Why the hell not?”

  Rylee shook her head. “Because it isn’t morally right to have two men at one time.”

  “Who says?” Antoinette demanded. “Ye think Louis be the only man tupping me?”

  Rylee’s blush turned fiery at the use of that word. “But you’re… You…”

  “I’m a whore,” Antoinette stated. “But I keep me personal life separate from me

  professional one, dearie. There be men what pay me for me services and them what

  don’t.” She grinned. “Louis knows of it but he don’t care.”

  “Alsandair would,” Rylee said. “And I’ve a feeling Andre would too. Neither

  would want to share me.”

  “If’n that be the only way they could have ye, they would,” Antoinette told her.

  “Believe me, I know these things. This be Wicklaw Cay and things here be different

  than that other world.”

  “They are both proud men,” Rylee said. “Good men. They wouldn’t—”

  “Don’t give ‘em a choice,” Antoinette said, sliding out of the swing. “Tell ‘em how

  it’s to be and if’n they don’t like it, fuck ‘em.” She folded her large arms over her

  equally lush bosom. “And don’t be sittin’ there contemplatin’ whether there be a right

  or a wrong to it, wench. On the Cay, it be what feels good that is the law, if ye get me

  drift.”

  “Aye, that may be true on the Cay but elsewhere—”

  Antoinette shook her head. “No, wench. Don’t ye be thinkin’ on elsewhere. Ain’t

  goin’ be no elsewhere. Andi ain’t about to let ye leave the Cay.”

  “But when Alsandair comes—”

  “Even if’n they fight for ye and this Alsandair wins—which ain’t likely to happen I

  will tell ye right here and now—the Brotherhood won’t let him leave with ye. He’ll

  either stay his arse here or hie himself off the Cay without ye. That be the way of it.”

  Rylee’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me I’ll never be able to leave Wicklaw Cay?”

  “No woman who ere stepped foot here has ere been allowed to leave. That be the

&
nbsp; law and ain’t nothin’ ye can do about it. Ye be a pirate’s woman now, wench, and as

  such ye are under the law of the Brotherhood, Andre or no Andre. Ye ken?”

  “Alsandair won’t stay here,” Rylee protested. “He is an Anlusian Guard.”

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  “Shush!” Antoinette hissed at her, glancing about for eavesdroppers. She turned a

  furious face to Rylee. “Don’t ye be spouting that fucking gibberish, wench, else that

  man will meet his doom a’fore he’s on the Cay half a minute when he finally gets here!”

  “But Louis knows, doesn’t he?” Rylee asked, fearful she had caused Alsandair great

  harm.

  “Of course he knows and he told me, but don’t ye be letting no one else hear of it!”

  “Toni, don’t you think Louis will be wondering where you are?”

  Both women jumped even if the voice speaking to them had been soft and low.

  They swung their heads toward Andre and were surprised to see him leaning against

  the porch railing, his arms crossed, one foot crooked over the other.

  “How long ye been there listening, brat?” Antoinette demanded, her hands on her

  ample hips.

  “I think you need to go home now,” Andre said, ignoring her question. “You’ve

  given my lady enough advice for one night.”

  Antoinette raised her chin. “Ye’d best get plenty of sleep tonight, Andi Corsair,

  ‘cause come morning, yer arse is Louis’!” That said, she flounced off with a flick of her

  multi-colored skirts, skipping down the veranda steps with an agility that defied her

  girth. She blended into the jungle and was gone.

  For a long moment neither Rylee nor Andre spoke. She sat perched on the edge of

  the unmoving swing and he lounged there against the post. Around them the night was

  soft and pleasantly cool, the air filled with mingled scents of tropical flowers and the

  tang of the sea.

  “Are you feeling better?” she finally asked, the silence getting on her nerves.

  “The hangover has gone,” he said. “I had forgotten how fierce they could be. That’s

  one of the reasons I don’t drink. I’m like the old man. When I start, I can’t seem to stop

  until I make myself sick.”

  “You’re nothing like your father,” she said, locking eyes with him. “Either of them.”

  Andre grunted. “There you’re wrong, bébé. I’m too much like one and not enough