The Captain's Caress

by Leigh Greenwood

  “Can they be ready by tomorrow?” Brent asked.

  “Not everything, of course, but if you will let me have a list of your engagements, I will see that alterations are made on gowns as they are required.”

  “Maybe Jeanne can serve as a go-between,” Summer suggested. Knowing that Brent thought her ravishing had changed her whole outlook on their stay in Havana. Meeting and being admired by complete strangers no longer frightened her. She even looked forward to it.

  Clothilde agreed. “That’s an excellent idea. She will also know of anything that needs attention, or if madame has need of anything to complete her toilette.”

  “Box up whatever she needs and send it to the hotel,” said Brent. “I want no effort spared in making sure the countess is the most beautiful woman there tonight.”

  Clothilde looked at Summer, resplendent in the sumptuous gown and glowing with youthful innocence and beauty. “I don’t think there will be any difficulty with that,” she said. “Now if milady will come with me, I must see to the changes that have to be made.”

  “If you’re going to be forever trying on dresses, I’m going back to the ship,” Brent declared. “I’ll send young Lane to escort you to the hotel.”

  “I can have one of my girls accompany the countess if you like,” Clothilde offered.

  “No, I’d rather have one of my own men bring her. I’ll be back in time to dine.”

  The warm excitement that had blossomed in Summer upon Brent’s admiration began to fade at his departure. Now the dress didn’t seem quite so lovely, and the room was hot and stuffy. She didn’t want to spend the whole afternoon having pins stuck in her and being pushed, pulled, and tugged at by dozens of hands. She’d much rather be back on the ship in her thin muslins, the cool breezes on her face and her long hair tossing in the wind. She turned to Madame Clothilde, a definite pout on her ruby lips.

  Clothilde had dealt with too many women for Summer’s swift change of mood to pose a mystery, but a possible affair between Brent and the countess was none of her business. It did make her wonder whether she should reconsider her plans, however. She knew of at least three women who considered Brent their own and who would not readily accept another candidate for his favors. Such rivalries could be bitter ones, and Clothilde had every intention of turning them to her advantage. If Summer was going to be at the center of the storm, then the clothes she wore would receive particular notice. Clothilde made up her mind that they would be the finest she had ever designed. Everybody else could wait. At this moment nothing was as important as turning Summer out in gown after gown guaranteed to make her clothes second only to her beauty as a topic of conversation.

  Chapter 21

  “Madame is a real pleasure to work for,” Jeanne told Summer, remembering the impatient and ungrateful young women that had driven her to give up being a personal maid and to work for Madame Clothilde. Summer had sat through having her hair dressed and her face delicately tinted without voicing a single protest. “It will only take a minute more,” Jeanne promised as she pinned the last of the flowers in Summer’s hair.

  “The señora looks so beautiful,” Chichi sighed, repeating her litany of the last hour. “Every man in Havana will be driven wild at the sight of you. They will all want to make love to you.”

  “You know that’s a very improper way to speak to the countess, Chichi,” Jeanne sternly reprimanded her. “Hand me those pins, and try to remember that you’re only a maid.” Chichi hated being scolded. She flounced away to find the required pins, then slapped them down within Jeanne’s reach. But her ill humor only lasted a few minutes; she could hardly have been more excited if she had been going to the reception herself.

  “Are you sure I look presentable?” Summer asked nervously, seeking reassurance as she thought of the many strangers she must face. “I must seem attractive.”

  “Attractive!” exclaimed Chichi incredulously. “The señora is beautiful, even more beautiful than the captain.”

  “That is high praise indeed.” Summer relaxed a bit. “But don’t let the captain hear you. He might become jealous.”

  “The captain frightens me a little,” Chichi said, indulging in a pleasurable shiver. “The señora must have great courage. Maybe if he likes you tonight, he will keep you for himself.” Summer stiffened.

  “How many times do you have to be told to watch your tongue?” Jeanne admonished.

  “A thousand pardons, señora, but the Captain looks at me as though he would like to make me disappear.”

  “He doesn’t think you’re a proper maid,” Summer explained.

  “But I am a wonderful maid,” Chichi declared indignantly.

  “You are not,” Jeanne stated uncompromisingly. “You are flighty, and you talk when you should be working. If you don’t learn to control your tongue, you’ll be cleaning rooms for the rest of your life.”

  Chichi puffed up, ready to defend herself, but Summer intervened. “Do try to watch what you say, Chichi. If you aren’t more careful, Captain Douglas is going to make Alonzo give me someone else. You really do come out with the most shocking things.”

  The vivacious girl crumpled into a demoralized little flower. “I’m sorry, señora,” she whimpered dolefully.

  “And don’t start to cry.” Summer spoke quickly. “I might cry too, and that would ruin Jeanne’s work. The captain would be in a awful temper if he had to wait while Jeanne did it over again.”

  “The captain is not patient with you?” Chichi asked, wiping her eyes.

  “Not in the least,” said Summer, underscoring her words with a grimace.

  Chichi’s sadness evaporated, and her big black eyes began to sparkle with curiosity. Her romantic soul sensed that something lay behind Summer’s words, and she regarded her mistress very much as a cat would regard a mouse hole.

  “Don’t you like the captain, señora?” she asked,

  “The captain is a friend of my husband,” Summer said with deliberate calm. It was essential that no one, especially a chatterbox like Chichi, suspect her real feeling for Brent. “He takes very good care of me, but he is used to commanding men and is unaccustomed to the ways of women.”

  “But that’s impossible,” protested Chichi breathlessly. “All of Havana speaks of his success with the ladies.”

  “If you don’t watch what you say,” snapped Summer, turning on the maid with a tigerlike pounce, “I’m going to have Alonzo send María to me tonight!” As Chichi quailed before her sudden fury, Summer rose to her feet.

  “Am I finished? Am I ready to receive the captain?”

  “Madame is ready to meet anyone,” Jeanne assured her. “There won’t be a more beautiful woman present tonight. You will break hearts.”

  Summer was greatly heartened by that thought. “I wouldn’t want to do that, but it’s nice to know that I will be presentable. I want to thank you both,” she said to Jeanne and Chichi. “If I’m a success, I will owe it to you and Madame Clothilde.”

  “Oh, Dios!” Chichi exclaimed, unable to remain quiet any longer. “Are you blind? You would stop carriages in the street if you wore rags.”

  “She’s right, señora, even though she shouldn’t have said it,” Jeanne said.

  “Don’t say another word,” Summer commanded, “or I’ll burst into tears. Convey my thanks to Madame Clothilde for sparing you. And, Chichi, please wait up for me. I can’t possibly undress myself.”

  “Muy bien, señora!” Chichi laughed. “I couldn’t sleep a wink without knowing all about the party.”

  “You’re an impossible girl,” Summer chided, “but I’m glad I have you. Now open the door. I can’t wait to see the captain’s face when he sees my wig.”

  Summer sat without moving, her back ramrod straight, her eyes staring directly ahead. She had waited for two hours and still Brent had not come to her. She knew he wasn’t going to; she had known it for some time, but she still couldn’t admit it to herself. It was easier to search for excuses for his lateness than
to admit that he cared so little that he had forgotten her.

  She tried not to let herself think of the implications of his absence, but doubts and worries assailed her. She feared that she was unimportant to him now that he was back on his old hunting ground. Why should he restrict himself to the penniless daughter of a small plantation owner when he could attract the heavily dowered daughters of powerful, aristocratic Spanish families? What could she offer him to shift the balance in her favor? She had already given him her innocence and her love, but apparently that wasn’t enough.

  Chichi’s words kept coming back to taunt her. How could she, an inexperienced novice, hope to hold a man whose prowess in the bedroom was on the tongues of everyone in Havana? Hadn’t he repeatedly teased her about his women? Even Smith had tried to warn her. Why hadn’t she listened to them instead of being so satisfied with her new gown and her flower-bedecked wig that she had completely forgotten about everything else?

  Well, she was paying for it now. For the last hour jealousy had been eating away at her like hot acid. She struggled to curb her demon of resentment, to banish all thought of the partners who might be filling his arms. She tried to look at things less emotionally, but it was a futile task. She kept telling herself that he was only staying away from her because she had made him promise to do so. She tried to make herself believe that, but a headache was all she got for her pains.

  “It’s ridiculous to be sitting around dressed like this,” she finally said aloud. Rising to her feet, she rang for Chichi. “I’m sure he’ll be here first thing tomorrow with a ready explanation tripping off his tongue, but staying up won’t bring the morning any quicker. I’m going to bed.”

  “We’re not talking about your duties on the ship,” Summer said furiously to Brent. “I realize they must come before me or a reception. We’re talking about your abandoning me to go roistering about with your women. Don’t expect me to believe that you were tied up with your business deals all night. Your carriage was seen leaving the hotel a little after midnight.”

  Summer shuddered when she recalled the embarrassment of explaining to Chichi why she had not attended the governor’s reception after taking over an hour to get dressed. She had barely slept at all, she still had a throbbing headache, and her mood had not been improved by Chichi’s chatty report over her morning cocoa that the captain had been seen in the company of a particularly beautiful and notorious marquise.

  Brent was not accustomed to being raked over the coals by anyone, but particularly not by a female. Any female! “You can’t expect me to give up all my pleasures,” he exploded. “I have to have something to do with my time if I’m to stay out of your bed. Besides, nothing can protect your reputation better than to have it publicly known that I’m occupying myself in another quarter.”

  Summer couldn’t tell him, for she hadn’t even admitted to herself, that she didn’t want to give up having him in her bed. When she had demanded that he protect her reputation by keeping away from her, she’d never dreamed that she would have to watch him pursue another female, or that his interest in someone else would cause her such great agony. She’d told herself for so long that she didn’t want his attentions that she had come to believe it. It was quite a shock to discover the opposite was true.

  “Can’t you ever think of anything else?” she demanded hopelessly.

  “I think about you all the time, but I’ll go crazy if I don’t have something to do besides sit around torturing myself in thinking about your loveliness and the nights we spent making love. Why should I neglect all those lovely ladies just waiting to throw themselves into my arms?”

  “You’ll stop at nothing to satisfy your bestial cravings, will you?” Summer’s tone was scornful, but she was torn between happiness at knowing that Brent still wanted her and agony that he would put someone else in her place.

  “Oh, I stop at quite a few. I like my women soft and yielding,” Brent crooned in her ear.

  “That never stopped you from plaguing me constantly,” Summer pointed out, aware that she was exposing her jealousy, but unable to stop doing so.

  “You were the only woman at hand, so I made do with what I had.”

  “You worthless brute.” Summer’s raw nerves were further irritated by his needless cruelty.

  “Not worthless,” Brent needled. “I’m very useful in certain ways.”

  “A person only has value as he is desired,” retorted Summer from between clenched teeth.

  Brent laughed so heartily that Summer grew even more angry. “I suppose you think that has put me in my place, but I warn you it has put me on my mettle instead. Before the month is out, my lovely countess, you’re going to want me.”

  “Never!”

  “And I’m going to make you admit it,” he declared with sudden intensity.

  “Impossible!”

  “I’m going to make you beg me never to let you go, to make love to you until we grow exhausted from trying.”

  “I’d die first,” Summer swore.

  “You’ll finally learn what love really is, and realize that your life would be much poorer without it.”

  “I long to be taught that lesson,” she flung at him, almost in tears, “but I’ll never learn it from you. That is one thing you can’t force me to do.”

  “Don’t bet anything you value against it.”

  “I have nothing of value left,” Summer said, utterly dejected. “You and my father have seen to that.”

  Chapter 22

  “Madame will have to hold still, or I may have to do it all over again,” cautioned Jeanne as she applied the faintest touch of rouge to Summer’s cheeks.

  “I don’t want to look like a courtesan,” Summer said pettishly. She had seen Brent just twice in the last four days and her mood was very brittle.

  “Señora, you could never look like anything but a lady,” Chichi assured her with unbounded enthusiasm.

  “That’s blind favoritism speaking,” Summer said with a bleak smile. She had wrung from Brent a promise to accompany her to this affair and she was determined to look her best.

  “Don’t frown,” Jeanne warned. Summer schooled her face to impassivity, but her thoughts remained in disarray.

  Brent was almost never at the hotel during the day or the evening, but his carriage was seen to leave it late every night. Several times Summer was so desperate to know where he went, she had almost sent Chichi to find out, but each time she had held back, afraid of what she might learn. She had done her best to think of something else, anything other than Brent. However, she had little to do except dress and eat and await this evening of socialization. Now she was ready so there was nothing to do but wait.

  “I’m finished, madame.” Jeanne put away her pots and brushes.

  Summer stared closely at her image, and for the moment Brent was forgotten. She still found it difficult to believe that the sophisticated, modish woman who stared back at her could be herself. Jeanne had done such a superb job it was almost impossible to tell she wore rouge, but her luminous eyes and luscious lips were highlighted to give her face a whole new character. She still looked like Summer Ashton, but she appeared to have a completely different personality. Her off-the-shoulder gown bared much of her breast, for it was designed to make the most of her physical allure without compromising her position.

  “I look like the marquise,” Summer said aloud, stunned to find that she looked as worldly as the dazzling Spanish beauty whose name was being coupled with Brent’s more and more frequently.

  “You are more beautiful than the marquise,” Jeanne said firmly.

  “Don’t be absurd. I hear someone in the salon,” Summer announced, suddenly forgetting everything else. “It must be the captain.”

  “You can ask him,” suggested Chichi.

  “I’d rather die!” Summer exclaimed. “And if you dare to open your mouth, you outrageous child, I’ll choke you.”

  But when Summer entered the salon she found Lane, rather than Brent, waiti
ng for her. Her first thought was that something had happened to Brent, but when Lane stood gaping at her rather than hurrying into an explanation she knew Brent wasn’t coming. He had spurned her company once again. He hadn’t completely forgotten her because he had sent Lane to take his place, but Summer would have preferred that he had sent no one at all. For a brief moment she was so heartsick she thought she would break down right in front of Lane and Chichi. What could this be but a clear message that the intimacy they had shared on the ship was over!

  Summer had feared that this day would come, and she’d wondered how she would be able to endure it. Now she knew: she felt as though she had just died. Suddenly she was a hollow shell, completely empty inside. She could feel the loss, but not the pain. Unable to move, to speak, even to faint, she stood helplessly waiting for the shock wave to hit, knowing that it would almost be a relief when it came.

  Lane hadn’t seen Summer since she’d left the ship, and he was so stunned by her beauty that he didn’t notice she looked like a statue.

  “Milady, is that really you?” he asked, unable to believe the evidence of his own eyes.

  “Of course it is the señora” answered Chichi, dancing about delightedly. “How do you like the countess?” she asked, bubbling with excitement. “Aha!” she exclaimed happily when she received no answer. “See señora, you have made him speechless.”

  “You’re like a vision,” Lane declared.

  “I told you so, señora, I told you how it would be,” Chichi said, gleefully jumping up and down like foam on a windy sea.

  “Has anything happened to the captain?” Summer finally asked. It felt odd to hear herself speak. Her voice didn’t seem to come from her own lips.

  “The captain is fine,” Lane answered, still too astounded to notice her shocked state. “You look so different I wasn’t sure it was you.”

  “But where is he? He promised he wouldn’t be late.” Summer’s words were spoken in a hollow, uninflected voice, and, upon hearing them, Lane noted her stupefied expression.