He waved good-bye and rode off.
Clare didn’t stay in bed too much longer after Dominic’s departure because lying about was not something she was accustomed to, nor anything she aspired to. Once she returned to Savannah being a lazybones would not be tolerated, so there was no sense in fooling herself now. So, after washing up and dressing, she went downstairs.
Anna was outside in the kitchen. “Good morning, Clare.”
“Good morning, Anna.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did. Thank you.” What little sleep Dominic had allowed her to have.
“Hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Go sit inside, I’ll bring you a plate in a moment.”
Clare wanted to tell her that getting her own breakfast was something she was quite capable of managing, but when Anna’s eyes narrowed as if reading her mind, Clare replied simply, “Yes, ma’am.”
After a meal of fruit, plantains, and poached eggs, Clare’s hunger had been banished.
“I have errands to do this morning,” Anna said as she cleared the china and cutlery from the table. “Would you care to accompany me and see more of the island?”
“I would, thank you.” Although she’d seen much of it with Dominic, she had a sense that seeing it with Anna would be different.
So, with Anna handling the reins from the raised seat of the rattling wagon, they and the old brown horse set out. The rough terrain made for slow going but Clare didn’t mind. She doubted she’d ever tire of taking in the island’s lush beauty and so fed her eyes on all that she could see and hear; like the green-breasted parrots overhead in the trees calling out warning, and the wild turkeys that made Anna stop the wagon to let a small flock cross the road. Anna gave her some of the names of the brilliantly colored flowers and the blooming trees they passed crowding both sides of the narrow road. Clare slapped at a biting insect trying to make a meal out of the back of her hand. The little terrors were the only complaint she had about Dominic’s paradise.
Their first stop was a small thatch-roofed home whose owner was one of the women Clare met at the feast. Her name was Henrietta Marsden, and chickens of all colors and sizes roamed her front yard.
“Morning, Henrietta,” Anna called out.
Henrietta was short, tent-shaped, and wore a brown head wrap that matched her skirt. Her skin was the color of cream. “Morning, Anna. Clare.”
Clare nodded and smiled as she watched a few chicks come out from under the porch and begin scratching in the dirt.
“You have my eggs?” Anna asked.
“Sure do.” Henrietta held up a basket for Anna to see. Inside were a dozen brown eggs loosely wrapped in a cloth.
“Can you place them inside that crate in the bed?”
Henrietta nodded.
After the eggs were positioned, Anna asked, “Anything you need me to take on?”
“Yes, a message to Elam. I need that churn he promised me.”
Anna sighed. “Judgment Day will come before he’s done, but I’ll try and light a fire under him.”
“Thank you. If he picked up his carpentry tools as often as that rum mug I’d have butter.”
“We all would. I’ve been waiting going on three months now for the one he’s supposed to make for me.”
“Four months for me.”
Clare wasn’t sure if she’d met this Elam, but both women seemed very unhappy.
Anna said, “If yours is finished, I will bring it to you on our way back.”
“Thank you.” Henrietta turned her attention to Clare. “Welcome again to Liberté. I hope you will be with us for a very long time.”
Rather than try and explain her situation, Clare acknowledged the sincere words with a heartfelt “Thank you.”
Once again on the narrow road, Anna asked, “Are you going to stay?”
“No, I can’t.”
“But you love the captain, non?”
The housekeeper’s assessment made Clare smile. “I do, but—Anna, it is so complicated.”
“Sometimes things just appear that way. Explain what you mean.”
Clare told her the story and her fears.
“You are right to be afraid. No mother wants her children placed on the block and maybe sold away from her life forever, but you don’t think the captain can rescue them?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Things could go wrong,” Anna said easily.
“And that’s what terrifies me.”
“Or things can go right, and you and your children can bask in the captain’s love until the Spirits take you home.” She looked Clare’s way. “We are women, Clare. Life will hand us nothing, so sometimes we have to make life look up and acknowledge us by our deeds. From the little I know of you, you impress me as intelligent, so think on this. Do you wish to spend the rest of your days in captivity wondering what might have happened if you’d taken the rope the captain wants to throw you and your children? Suppose they are sold anyway through no fault of your own? Will you feel guilty for not having given them this chance?”
Clare thought that over. No, she wouldn’t want to spend her remaining days wondering what if, any more than she wished to bear the guilt of knowing she might have denied Sarah and Ben what might possibly be their only chance at freedom. However, for all the sage advice being given to her by various people, no one was risking their own children; they were risking hers. “How long have you known the captain, Anna?”
“Since he was young, but I didn’t become his housekeeper until after he rescued the three hundred of us from the island of Martinique four years ago. When we left there we had no idea where we might end up, but even if it turned out to be the bottom of the sea we knew it would be better than slavery.”
For the rest of the morning they crisscrossed the island. Clare soon realized that they were doing not only Anna’s errands but a number of other people’s as well. They picked up a goat and her two kids needing transportation to their new owners, then two little girls who appeared to be about her daughter’s age. They’d been visiting with their grandparents and now were heading home. Clare had to force herself not to look at them because they made her think of Sarah.
Anna and Clare spent hours transporting goods and holding conversations with all the people they encountered. By the time Anna finally headed the horse back to the governor’s mansion, they’d picked up and delivered barrels of fish, mangoes, bales of grasses, an armoire, cooking pots, three cots, and a dog who spent the entire time aboard the wagon barking at the goats. They didn’t get the churns, however. Elam wasn’t at home.
“How often do you do this, Anna?”
“Two, sometimes three times a week. It’s my way of taking the island’s pulse. If a man is mistreating his wife, I want to know. If a child is sick, I want to know. If someone has died, I need to know. When the captain is away, I make sure our people are well, and this is how I accomplish that goal. My traveling also helps everyone remain in contact. We have the drummers to help with communicating, but personal matters can’t be sent over the drum, so I often carry messages, too.”
Clare was impressed. She was tired from assisting with all the loading and unloading, but impressed by Anna’s novel methods nonetheless.
Before heading home for the day, Dominic paid a visit to Washington Julian and his wife, Lara. They ran a twice-a-day ferry service to Jamaica from the eastern tip of the island. The tall, beautiful Lara was a descendant of the area’s original inhabitants. Columbus had termed them Indians and their numbers were decimated by the slavery and disease brought by the Europeans who followed him. There were still small pockets of her people on Liberté and high in the mountains of Jamaica, but they seemed destined for extinction with the passage of time.
Dominic found the couple repairing fishing nets and they both stood and smiled as he rode up. “How’s business?”
“Slow, but it gives Lara and me a chance to enjoy ourselves.”
“
And get some work done,” she pointed out, indicating the fishing nets.
Dominic saw that she was fanning away the heat with the ivory fan that had caused the controversy on the Marie. He told them about Sylvie’s veiled threat to Clare. “I want to know if she leaves the island, or meets anyone that you ferry here.”
“She left on the morning run,” Julian said.
Lara added, “Had a mountain of trunks as if she were leaving for good.”
Dominic was surprised. “Maybe she’s come to her senses and has gone back to her husband.”
They had no answers.
“Let me know if she returns. On a happier note, I’ve come to invite you both to dinner tomorrow evening.”
“We’ll be there,” Washington replied. “How’s Miss Clare?”
“Enjoying her time with us.”
“Is she still set on returning to the colonies?”
Dominic nodded.
“Be nice if she made this her home.”
“I agree, but we shall see. In the meantime, tomorrow evening.”
With a wave to them, he turned Louis around and galloped down the beach towards home.
Chapter 11
C
lare was seated in the courtyard reading when he returned. Her smile of greeting warmed him like sunshine on a chilly day. He gave her a kiss. “How’s the day faring?”
“Fine, and yours?”
He took a seat beside her on the stone bench and they spent a few moments discussing their encounters. He told her about Sylvie leaving the island. “Hopefully that will be one less thing for us all to worry over.”
“I agree.”
“What are you reading?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“Ah, Oberon and Titania.”
“And Puck, and poor Bottom. It is one of my favorites.”
She was his favorite. “I’m having a dinner here tomorrow evening for my officers and some of the crew, I’d like for you to act as my hostess.”
“Sounds lofty.”
“Will you do it?”
“I’ve no experience, but for you, I’ll pretend.”
“All you need do is smile and be gracious and beautiful—which you already do exceptionally well.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you.”
The desire that always seemed to flow between them whenever they were together rose like curling wisps of smoke, and he lifted her up and set her on his lap much to her laughing surprise.
“I haven’t held you all day. I’m due.” While she made herself comfortable against his shoulder, he filled his nostrils with the scents of the fragrant oils Anna had given her for her hair. “Now, I’m content.”
Clare was, too. “Are your men bringing their wives?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t need formal wear, will I, because I have none.”
“No, whatever your dress, it will suffice.”
“Good. I don’t wish to embarrass you.”
“Never. Had I the time, we could have gone over to one of the Jamaican seamstress shops and purchased you something formal.”
“Why waste good coin on something you’ve just admitted I didn’t need?”
“Because there’s something very stimulating about making love to a woman in a beautiful gown. I think it has to do with searching for treasure beneath all those petticoats.”
She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
“I know.” He hugged her close. Since he hadn’t kissed her today, either, he remedied that by placing his lips against hers. “Sweet as ever,” he murmured, and as the kiss deepened and desire expanded to capture them, no further words were necessary.
Except—
“Ahem,” someone said loudly, clearing his throat.
Annoyed, Dominic glanced up. “Your timing is always impeccable, brother.”
Gaspar grinned. “Perfection is a worthy goal. Good afternoon, Clare.”
Beside him stood the smiling Suzette.
The embarrassed Clare tried to pretend she wasn’t sitting in Dominic’s lap or that her lips weren’t kiss-swollen. “Good afternoon, Gaspar. Suzette.” She made move to rise, but Dominic clamped a gentle hold on her waist to make her stay.
“I see she hasn’t divorced you yet,” Dominic pointed out.
Gaspar draped an arm lightly around his bride’s waist. “The future is still uncertain.”
Suzette asked Clare, “Are you enjoying your visit here?”
“I’m having a wonderful time.”
“Good. Gaspar says you are a true lady, which Dominic is not always known for, so we look forward to having you with us for a long while.”
Dominic stared at her with mock outrage.
Clare tried to muffle her mirth but failed.
Gaspar shook his head sadly. “Alas, brother, Suzette knows you well.”
“Control your wife,” he ordered teasingly. “Nothing worse than a headstrong female.”
“I beg your pardon,” Clare replied.
Gasper quipped, “Now you’ve done it, Dominic. You should have quit while you were ahead.”
Pretending to seek amends, Dominic asked Clare, “Did I say there was nothing better than a headstrong woman, too.”
She and Suzette rolled their eyes, and Suzette said with a humor-laden voice, “We’ll leave you two. We just wanted you to know we’d returned.”
“I’ll be expecting you at the dinner tomorrow night.”
They nodded and made their exit.
Dominic lifted Clare’s chin. Looking down into her eyes, he asked, “Now, where were we?”
“You were kissing me.”
“Excellent memory, Miss Sullivan.”
Echoing Gaspar, she said softly, “Perfection is a worthy goal.”
The next evening, Clare and Dominic stood in the torch-lit courtyard and greeted their guests. Gaspar and Suzette arrived first, followed by the Julians; the fiddler Tait and his wife, Dani. James and Lucinda Early arrived with Odessa, and over the next hour they were all joined by other crew members and their wives and sweethearts.
Richmond Spelling, dressed as finely as Clare had ever seen him, wove in and out of the crowd carrying a tray filled with appetizing bits of meat and fruit, then returned to offer beverage choices of sangria, fresh spring water, and rum.
They dined standing, eating from small plates of LeVeq family china emblazoned with the house crest. The arrangement enabled everyone to mingle, hold conversations, and have a good time.
Dominic watched Clare moving about talking, smiling, and making sure everyone was enjoying themselves. He thought she made an excellent hostess, and it was easy for him to imagine her in the role permanently. Again he wondered how he was ever going to let her go when the time came, but he chose not to think about it and took a swallow of his cognac instead.
After the dessert of a rum-soaked trifle, Esteban made his entrance. Clare, standing beside Dominic and Odessa, saw him make his way through the crowd. He shook hands, kissed the hands of the ladies, all the while moving in their direction. When he reached them, Odessa coolly excused herself and walked over to join James and Lucinda standing with a group nearby.
Esteban watched her move away and smiled knowingly.
“Finally made your way out of Levine’s,” Dominic remarked.
Esteban turned back. “Not my fault, I keep explaining to you.”
“I’m not the one needing an explanation, but Odessa may.”
“I think this will be explanation enough.” From within his fine waistcoat, he produced a sparkling gold ring that he placed on his palm for them to see.
“That is beautiful,” Clare told him.
“Enough to earn forgiveness?” he asked her, dark eyes lit with humor.
“Depends on how deep the transgression.”
Dominic cracked, “He’s going to need a chest of those just to begin negotiations.”
“Maybe for a Frenchman, but not for a son of Spain.”
Dominic chuckl
ed and shook his head. “Clare, you might want to stand behind me so that you’ll be out of the line of fire.”
Esteban rolled his eyes and walked over to Odessa.
Clare saw that the gathering had quieted. Everyone had their eyes focused on Esteban. James and Gaspar appeared to be in the midst of taking bets, and across the terrace, Richmond was shaking his head dubiously.
Esteban called out loudly, “My friends, I’d like for you to bear witness.” Getting down on one knee, he held up the ring for Odessa to see, and said to her, “Odessa, I love you like the wind loves the sea.”
Silent, she took the ring.
“Will you marry me?”
She gave him a smile, then picked up a pitcher of sangria from the small table and slowly poured the contents over his handsome head. “I’d sooner marry a boar!” she snapped angrily. “How dare you propose to me after spending three days with the whores at Levine’s. Are you truly a lunatic!”
As if needing to make sure he understood the true depth of her anger, she stormed over to the edge of the paved terrace and threw the ring as far as she could out into the darkness.
“Dessa!”
She spun on him. “Come near me again and I will put a musket ball right between your philandering eyes!” Picking up her skirts, she hurried into the house.
Lucinda started after her, but paused for a moment to say to Esteban, “She’s correct. You truly are a lunatic.”
While Clare stood shocked, Dominic chuckled. “Told him he needed a chest.”
Clare saw Gaspar and James collecting their money. Esteban was drying his face and hair with a cloth handed to him by Richmond.
“Women!” the Spaniard snarled. “Dominic, I’m sure you’ll understand my need to depart. I’ll be back in the morning to look for the ring.”
“Of course. I’ll see you then.”
Esteban bowed over Clare’s hand, gave his regrets, stormed past James and Gaspar, who appeared to be laughing hard enough to fall over, and disappeared.
Lara met Clare’s stunned eyes and smiled. “Last time she broke a platter over his head. You’d think he would have learned by now, but they make for great entertainment, so we all thank you for the invitation.”
Captured Page 17