“Not just any book. A diary left by the owner of this house. His name was John Sharp and he was a sea captain. His story is penned in these pages. I have just begun to read how he came here. But where he has gone, I do not know. His tale is so sad…he loved her.”
Nicholas spooned some chowder into his mouth. “Her?”
“Yes, he was madly in love with a lady of quality. Their love was mutual but he was of low birth, and it was forbidden.”
Nicholas sipped the wine from the casks of the Santanas. “What happened? Why was he here?”
He could see Alexandra was ready to jump from her skin she was so excited. She thumbed through the pages, and commenced reading.
June 1762 “Every experimental philosopher knows the steel and the magnate, when brought within striking distance, cannot be kept apart and so our love evolved. That there is only one person you meet in your life who can turn your life around and that was you, my dearest Jane.”
Alexandra sighed and read more.
July 1762 “There is a tie more binding than humanity, and stronger than friendship that binds us. That we shared an emotional affinity and unconditional trust that knew no bounds… I dream of you, lovely dreams but when I wake, my life is a nightmare for I do not have you in my arms.
August 1762 “I told you things I never shared with another soul and you listened with every breath you took. How we shared our future hopes and dreams that alas, never will come true. Never will I share in your excitement, or share your feelings.
September 1762 You have a good kind heart Jane, always building me up, knowing when I was hurting and making me feel like a king. You had that splendid quality to make me feel special, a wonderful calm that surrounded you. I could be myself in your company. And you loved me for myself despite my wretched circumstances.”
Placing a hand over her heart, Alexandra looked up from her reading. “His wretched circumstances differentiated him as a lowly sea captain.” She continued.
“The irrelevant became of consequence—a note, a song, a walk in the woods befell treasures to be cherished. Your laughter, like a thousand angels, brought joy. The colors of the world danced sunnier and more dazzling when you smiled.”
Nicholas put his tankard down and she refilled it with wine. As Alexandra read, her voice, velvet smooth, ran over him like the wine that settled through his veins.
January 1763 “I think of you every day, Jane. We didn’t need continuous conversation. We contented ourselves in silent communion.”
June 1764 “How I remember our picnic in the meadow. The bluest of sky, a gentle wind and fair weather clouds. The day you put your arms around me and told me how much you loved me and could never be separated from me. The day you gave yourself to me in body and soul.”
Alexandra snapped the book closed and Nicholas liked the rush of color in her cheeks.
“I hadn’t read that far…”
“Who is Jane?”
Alexandra widened her eyes. “You are so impatient. She is Lady Jane Winthrop Dabney. Do you know her?”
“I do. She was at my sister’s betrothal party. I feel sorry for her because Sir Dabney, her husband is the worst kind of scoundrel, a born profligate, gambler and drunk. Lady Jane Winthrop would have been better off with the sea captain.” He cursed the aristocracy’s propensity for marriages of convenience. People should marry whom they love and damn the contract.
He tossed down the contents of his flagon, thinking of his father, so like Sir Winthrop. “The Winthrop’s were a good family but her father was stern. If he perceived a growing fascination between Lady Jane and Captain Sharp, he’d marry her off and put a stop to the attraction. Her family was wealthy. Sir Dabney possessed an old and noble title and a selling point.”
The wine rolled sour over Nick’s tongue. Part of him did not desire to hear anymore. Like Alexandra, the mysterious existence of their benefactor called to him. Why was Captain Sharp alone on the island? So many questions unanswered.
“I had one more voyage. A voyage beyond all voyages.”
Nicholas put his fork down. “What does that mean?”
Her food untouched, Alexandra shrugged and turned the page.
“I set sail with your promises to wait for me. You gave me your locket to remember you and I never took it off. I hated leaving you, but you deserved the world at your feet and I would make it happen.”
“What happened?”
Alexandra flipped through pages to where she remembered reading the information.
“No sooner had I sailed into the Atlantic, we were attacked by Barbary Pirates. With my ship seized, I faced unspeakable brutality by my captors. How I survived the privations was a miracle when many of my crew did not. My future lay dim, journeying to Algiers to be sold into bondage, my Muslim inheritors, promising a fate worst then death. My only thoughts were that I’d never see you again.”
Alexandra pressed her hand to her forehead. “That could have been our fate in the Brazils.”
Nicholas nodded, understanding how similar their destinies were entwined.
“Mid-route, a fortuitous attack by a Danish ship saved us from the ruthless hands of the Corsairs. With my ship freed, and my crew restored, I moved forward on my expedition. Because of our delay, we were caught in several storms that plagued the Caribbean at that time of year. Blown off course several times, meant weeks of travel to make up the distance lost, and more agonizing time from you.”
“What was on the island that he would risk life and limb?” Alexandra said.
Nicholas picked up his chair and dropped it next to hers. “Only one thing would drive a man to such extraordinary measures.”
She turned her face to his, so close. A smattering of delightful freckles covered her nose and the rings around her turquoise eyes grew darker with her question.
“Read on,” ordered Nicholas, his shoulder pressed to hers.
“At a remote island, I ordered the men to drop anchor. While they drew fresh water, and gained respite, I set about the island. You may have guessed by now, my love, I had a map in my possession given to me by a friend on his deathbed. I had once saved him from financial ruin and disgrace. He never forgot that charity. How he came into possession of such a prize, I do not know, but he promised riches of inestimable wealth.”
Alexandra’s face lit with excitement. “A treasure, Nicholas.” She popped a piece of mango in her mouth and turned the page, gripping the book with her long fingers.
“While my crew cavorted, and played on the island, taking needed sustenance, I searched the island. I did find what I came for, hauling and secreting my prize aboard my ship beneath the noses of my crew.”
Alexandra slapped down the book. “If he had treasure, then why didn’t he and Lady Jane reconnect?”
Nicholas combed his fingers through his hair. Was the sea captain prone to fancy? Loneliness coupled with tedium on an island could lead to the possibility.
She reopened the book and thumbed to the last page read.
He regarded her quizzically. “Who is impatient now?”
She made a tiny growl in the back of her throat that he found diverting.
“I made the shores of England. You had been married and were celebrating the birth of your son. My world lay shattered. To find you had abandoned me was incomprehensible.”
Alexandra shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”
“The treasure?” Nick leaned back on the two legs of his chair.
She flapped a hand in dismissal. “Is that all you think about?”
“To have come so far and through many trials was more than my heart could bear. I left England, sailing to this unmarked island, built this house and survived my days knowing the love of my life belonged to another.”
“What about the treasure?”
“You are so anxious.” She blew out a breath, scanning through the entries in the diary.
No need to point out she was just as keen as he was.
“Loneliness is abundant
and wreaks dreadful suffering. The island and I is all there is. In the deep still silence, I can feel your beating heart.”
“Today I came to a lagoon and thought of you, my darling. I would trade all the treasure in the world to hear your voice, to see your smile one more time.”
“With certainty, he’s daft.” Nick dropped his chair to all fours. He rose, poured a flagon of rum and Alexandra lifted a brow. “I’ve had enough of lunatic ravings.” He headed out the door.
“He’s in love,” she shouted at him.
He liked the passion she put into the story, better yet, he liked the fact she followed him with book and candle in hand, reading as she went.
He flopped in his hammock. She sat beside him and he smelled her scent and the jasmine flowers she placed in her braid. There was no remedy for the persuasive power of her scent. He breathed her into his lungs. Not one single cure to eradicate her scent.
“A dreadful storm has hit the island for three days and I’m marooned inside. How I wish your son were mine. Jane, how could you have abandoned me? I deviate from anger to crushing despair. I never told you why I left without saying a word to you. I accepted the fact that you married Sir Dabney because your heart changed. I loved you so that I wanted only your happiness. I sacrificed my own happiness for you.”
“About the, treasure Nicholas, I was wondering…”
“You are a woman who does a lot of wondering. Not a bad fault.” He smiled and swallowed his rum in one gulp. “Nothing like a tot of rum under my belt.”
“You are starting to sound like a pirate.”
He spread his hands. “I’m on a tropical island, no treasure map to follow…what else do I need?” He imagined her next to him in his hammock, laying her head on his chest, his arms around her. And he realized how desperately lonely he’d become.
She cleared her throat to get him to pay attention and he lay entranced by the pulse that beat in the hollow of her neck.
“My only wish is that despite your changed feelings toward me, that our friendship will be infinite. For the moon never beams without bringing you as part of my dreams. Each tender caress of yours will never die of weariness, of withering, of errors or betrayals, of illness and wounds. For me, our love was eternal.”
The candle flame desperately sputtered, the flame sinking into the melted wax and dying away. A cloud obscured the moon. A wind rose, and a light capping of the sea could be seen below. Alexandra closed the diary and held it close to her chest, so involved with Captain Sharp and Lady Dabney’s tragic story.
Nicholas grew quiet, too. Of course, he had drunk a lot.
“Are you awake?” she asked
“Yes.”
He folded an arm behind his head. Stars poked bright holes in the blackness overhead. The moon, a silver crescent in the west, emerged from the cloud that shrouded it, only to be crowded out by the immensity of stars and planets and the universe unfurling its enormous arms above them.
“I never see a sky like this back home. I finally understand why the ancients worshipped the sky and named their gods after the wanderer’s overhead that seem so close you can touch them with your hands.” The stars, the rum, the hopelessness of not seeing home again, washed over him with a weariness.
She tilted her face to the heavens. “Look over there. The Tarantula sprawls across the north as Orion’s belt and Orion’s dagger, pursuing each other over the Milky Way. They are like old friends, these stars and planets that grace the darkness, dancing with the waxing and waning of the moon. You can see the hot and fiery Venus unfurl against the horizon and touch the moods of Mars, so cold and red.”
Her enthusiasm faded from him. Locked in his own world, he fought a battle no one knew about. Suddenly he wanted out.
He dropped his tankard, the heavy pewter crashed on a rock. She bent to pick it up and he stayed her hand.
“I killed a man.”
He was glad for the darkness—to not see the condemnation in her face, yet the night would not cloak the censure in her voice. She would either be the death of him or the one who brought him back to life.
“I know.”
She had heard the rumors in her remote village? Of course, news like that traveled. No wailing or denunciation of him came from her. She sat quietly waiting for him to continue.
“I must tell you what happened.”
“I’m not here to judge you, Nicholas. I’m sure what you did was honorable.”
His fiancée had been less forgiving. Lady Susannah Tomkins…her claws unsheathed…the explosive ugliness of her face…her outrage.
Sustained by Alexandra’s empathy, he treaded through his murky history. “I box for sport. The physical activity gives me satisfaction and keeps me in shape. I sparred with the tenants on my father’s estate, massive farm boys built from hard work, eager to take on the duke’s son with no regard for my position. The fighting was dirty, and I liked it that way. In London, I learned speed and footwork, honing my crude skills to become the best.”
Nicholas exhaled. “You still do not judge me?”
“I would not be sitting here if you had not been good at what you do. If you had not defeated Damiano, we would have drowned on the Santanas.”
He fingered the pearl in his pocket, felt her gaze on him.
“Wallowing in the muck is not a way to come clean. Out with it, Nicholas.”
He nodded reluctantly. “A few years ago, I was at a social gathering in London, and walked into the gardens. A serving girl was assaulted and because she was helpless, I defended her. The scoundrel aimed his gun at me…I hit him with a left. It was his last breath. Because of his rank in the House of Lords and family’s influence, the girl was frightened and changed her story to benefit her assailant. Due to my notoriety as a champion, my fists were treated as weapons. I was besieged by an army of gossips, unfair press and the man’s family who wanted me prosecuted for the murder of an unarmed man. There were no other witnesses. My father had to use every ounce of his influence to keep me free of prison.”
“Never-ending remorse is an undesirable sentiment, Nicholas. You were defending yourself. You should not feel guilt.”
Her absolution was powerful—the promise of rebirth, the removal of past transgressions.
To breathe again.
Except for his parents and close friends, he felt the whole world was against him. How the words of one sweet, beautiful woman exonerated him from wrongdoing and humbled him with her compassion.
He jumped out of his hammock and hauled her up toe to toe with him. She gasped. Her hair was drawn back in that abominable braid, and her chin was both determined and inviting. He put his left hand under it and slowly brought it up to his. There was enough moonlight for him to see her eyes, and he was captivated by their calm assurance, so that for some moments, they studied each other. And wasn’t his heart falling in love with Alexandra a little more day by day, taking him with it?
He couldn’t stop it.
His mouth came down on hers. He was hurting with wanting her; fueled with anger toward a world where he struggled for vengeance and survival…and for desiring her. Then his senses fled him, but inside he knew he couldn’t…wouldn’t…do any more than kiss her.
He brought his own experience to bear, coaxing, gently persuading, enticing her lips to open, and when they did, he swooped in and claimed her sweetness. Her stiffness relaxed, and she melted into him, holding on to him for support, her soft full breasts flattened against his chest. Nicholas took full control, reaching down and pulling her tight against him, thrusting his tongue deeper, to wield her passion. He breathed her, tasted the sweet mango in her mouth and savored her. His mouth gentle at first became brutal on hers, twisting, bruising, rousing, his tongue thrusting through her like a brand, searing her, having her.
Oh, how Nicholas towered over her, his fingers cupping in the back of her head and his other hand hauling her bottom to him so she couldn’t move. He gripped her hair in a savage grasp so she couldn’t avoid the r
avenous onslaught of his mouth. She melted against him, her body wanton and willing.
Alexandra drowned in his scent, the taste of rum mixed with wine, and the heady strength of his body emphasized her vulnerability to him. Breathing was near impossible and she felt she would expire from suffocation. Her hands were splayed across his chest, firm healthy male flesh tingled beneath her fingertips. Her dreams had stoked desire and now, to touch him everywhere, to explore every part of him… She brushed her fingers over muscle, heat, moisture then slid her arms around his neck, sighing.
She lifted her hands to his hair, running her fingers between the silky strands as she held him close… and firm, terrified he’d move his mouth from hers if she released her hold.
He outlined the tips of her breasts with his fingers and her nipples grew taut. His other hand splayed across the small of her back and Alexandra gasped, felt his hardness through their clothes. He cupped her breast in his hand and kissed her eyes, nose, and the hollows of her neck and down…
How could such kisses tighten the muscles in her stomach, weaken her limbs and flood a warmth between her thighs? The world grew vague, unaffected by any color, yet spinning all her senses into a pool of pleasure. Like quicksilver, lust raced through her veins and a wealth of feelings leaped from her, blossoming, exploding.
A sound struggled to escape her, a release of emotion such as she’d never imagined.
He drew away from her, his chest heaving. The gap between them gave way to a chill. Alexandra managed to gulp in sweet air, her heart hammering in her chest, his head rested against hers. She was glad he had stopped and pushed away from him. He took a step toward her and she turned, unable to talk anymore she ran into the cottage, her secret, silent and stony locked in a cheerless place, wearying her of its tyranny and forbidding any relationship.
Chapter 12
Alexandra wove palm fronds into a hat, thinking about Nicholas’s confession. Nicholas was a proud man. Despite the murder publicized in all the papers, and at risk to her scorn, he had humbled himself to her. He had been released from the tragedy that surrounded his life.
Only You: Duke of Rutland Series III Page 12