The Captain's Caress

by Leigh Greenwood

  They reached out to each other, two souls crossing the abyss and leaving behind all desire to exist separately. They knew a gentleness they had not known before, a certainty that they were no longer entities, no longer alone. They could share without the need for words, achieve satisfaction through each other, give in the certainty that they would receive in return.

  They now knew the meaning of oneness. They had acquired a deeper understanding of their love, and of each other. No matter what they must endure, they would not be torn asunder.

  Chapter 30

  Summer woke to sunlight streaming through the windows. She was strongly tempted to stay in the large fourposter, but as she stretched with feline grace, she was drawn to the lifegiving warmth of the sun. Her room, at the front of the house, provided her with an uninterrupted view of the terraces that descended to the sea. It was a breathtaking sight, and she sank down onto a bamboo chair, hardly able to believe she could be so happy.

  After weeks of doubt, worry, and fear, the island was a sanctuary, a quiet cove where she was protected from the whims of Fate by the one person she loved above all else. It was still hard for her to believe that Brent loved her as passionately as she loved him, but a thrill of exhilaration raced through her, swift as lightning, every time she thought of his strong arms or his hot, demanding lips.

  All at once she had a tremendous desire to be up and about. She rang the bell, then ran to her trunks to look for something to wear. Her head was deep in the largest one when Ana entered with a towel and a basin of water.

  “I wondered when you would wake,” Ana said with a smile. “The captain gave orders that you not be disturbed.”

  “Where did he go?” Summer’s voice was muffled by the trunk.

  “He’s out with the overseer. Carlos heard last night that the captain had returned, and he was here before Mama got the fires going this morning.”

  “How long will they be gone?”

  Ana’s eyes twinkled merrily as Summer raised her head from the trunk. “Carlos didn’t look happy when the captain told Mama he’d be home by midday. The captain said he had better things to do than ride his rump raw, stare at a lot of sugar cane, and worry over problems he was paying Carlos to take care of.”

  “That sounds exactly like something Brent, I mean the captain, would say,” Summer confided, a glimmer of a smile touching her lips. “He’s rather impatient.”

  “Can I help the senorita with something?” asked Ana, belatedly becoming aware of her new duties.

  “I’m looking for a yellow poplin dress covered with knots of blue flowers, but I can’t find it anywhere.” Perplexed, Summer opened the second trunk. “I wanted to wear it today.”

  “That’s one of the dresses I ironed and put away.” Ana went to the small dressing room. “I didn’t know what you would choose to wear, and since I couldn’t do everything last night, I just ironed a few dresses. Do you really wear these clothes when you’re in Scotland?” she asked, lifting from the trunk a silk gown trimmed with lace and heavily embroidered.

  “Yes, and with enough petticoats to slow a horse. Put it away. It makes me hot just to look at it. It’s such a beautiful day I can’t stay in this room a minute longer. I want to see the house, the lawns, the terraces, the stables, and just about every foot of land on the island.” She suddenly felt a trifle embarrassed by her own enthusiasm, but Ana seemed to find nothing unusual in her attitude.

  “Mama will be happy to show you anything you like. She and Papa were both born on the island and there’s not much here they don’t know about.”

  “Maybe you can begin by telling me why this room is so oddly furnished,” Summer said. “It looks as though people have been stealing pieces of furniture from it.”

  “They have.” Ana became aware of the unusual appearance of the room. “This was the old señora’s room. After she died the old master could never bear to let anyone else use it, so it was left untouched. Whenever something broke in another part of the house, we would come here to find what we needed. You only have to tell me what you want and Papa will see to it. If the captain had told us he was bringing you, we would have prepared the room.”

  “A dressing table would do for now,” Summer said. “I don’t want to go moving things about without talking to the captain first. You never know what unaccountable notions men will take into their heads.”

  “Yes, señorita.” Ana held up the dress so she could slip it over Summer’s head. “Mama is always saying that men are the most contrary of creatures. No matter what you do they could have done it better and in half the time.”

  “That’s the captain all over.” Summer adjusted her gown with great care. She hoped Brent’s eyes would always glow like aquamarines when they lighted on her. It gave her pleasure to know that she had the power to send his senses racing.

  “You are very beautiful, señorita,” Ana said simply. “The captain is a very lucky man.”

  “Let’s hope he agrees with you.” Summer blushed faintly. She felt that she was accepting affection and good wishes under false pretenses, but there was nothing to be gained by telling the truth. “I think I’ll take a tour of the house first,” she said, banishing that unwelcome thought.

  “Should I tell Mama?”

  “No. I just want to wander about.”

  “If you change your mind, the large bell in the hall summons outside servants, and the bellpull right next to it calls someone from the kitchen.”

  “You can start trying to make sense of all these trunks while I’m gone,” Summer instructed. “I want the heavy clothes packed in one trunk and the other things gotten ready for me to wear.”

  “Yes, señora. Is there anything else?”

  “No, just make sure someone calls me the minute the captain returns.”

  Summer’s home had been constructed to bring cooling breezes into the house. There were porches on all sides, and halls bisected it to catch every available breath of air. But this house was built of stone and brick, much like the Scottish houses her parents had talked about, and Summer had never seen one like it. It had no inner court as was the Spanish custom, and no porches or halls that opened to the outside. The thick walls were broken by few windows, and the bare beams that supported the upper floor projected from the outer walls. Summer moved slowly down the wide stairs, conscious of the gloomy interior. There were no bright colors to lighten the atmosphere, no open doors and arches to give a feeling of light and space. It was cool and dark, but Summer didn’t mind the heat as much as she minded the feeling of being closed in. Better ways to arrange the furniture flitted through her mind as she wandered through the rooms on the first floor, but she soon abandoned such thoughts to daydream about spending her life in this large, quiet house with Brent. She wanted to turn it into a cheerful, happy home. As she wandered from room to room, she pictured the house filled with people, children playing among the shadows and guests wandering contentedly over the terraces.

  Summer went onto the terrace where they had dined the preceding night, and memories of Brent’s lovemaking sent a thrill of excitement through her, bringing her to tingling awareness.

  It was not a hot morning, but the blaze kindled within her combined with the heat of the sun to make her uncomfortably warm. She strolled from the terrace to seek the shade of the trees in the garden below. There, she found a bench along a winding path and sank down upon it. From this position, she had a partial view of the house and she could see the terraces descend to the sea. It was a lovely sight, and it encouraged Summer to feel that the house was not quite hopeless. She would have to speak to Brent. If it was not possible to alter the structure of the house, she would have larger windows cut out and convert others into doors that could be thrown open to the outside. She was deep in her plans when Brent’s voice startled her out of her reverie.

  “You can’t go to sleep on me the first day you’re here,” he chastised playfully.

  “I was just daydreaming.” A rush of giddy excitement came
over her at his unexpected nearness. He was smiling at her in that intense way he had when his eyes began to turn green with desire, and her pulse raced, preventing her distracted mind from focusing on anything in particular.

  “I hope I was included in your dreams,” he said, settling down next to her.

  “I was just thinking of ways to open up the house. It looks more like a fortress than a home.” She averted her gaze to allow her hot cheeks to cool and her whirling wits to slow down. She had to force her thoughts through the tumult of her emotions.

  “That’s what it was,” he said, brushing a heavy fall of hair back from her upturned face. “It was built to withstand an attack from the sea.” His fingertips lost themselves in the luxuriant locks that fell down the back of her neck.

  “Is there any danger of that still?” Summer’s voice trailed off into a whisper.

  “No one dares when they know they’ll have the Windswept swooping down on them before they reach the windward passages.” He took her quivering fingers in both his hands and raised them to his lips.

  “Ana said your agent was waiting for you when you came down this morning.” She spoke in halting phrases, her heated mind barely able to piece together the words.

  “The man is a workhorse.” Brent placed kisses on her open palm. “If he had his way we’d have packed provisions and been gone the better part of a week.” His lips moved to her wrists. “I told him I could see his sugar mill some other time; I was coming back to have lunch with you.”

  Summer’s arms lay exposed to the touch of his foraging lips.

  “Can I go with you?” she mumbled, all power to make conversation beginning to leave her.

  “If you like, but I doubt Carlos will approve.” His lips reached her shoulder and her head listed to one side, providing open access to the fluted column of her throat.

  “Why?” she asked faintly.

  “He doesn’t think seafaring people know much about planting.” Brent’s voice became unsteady as the fire of desire spread through his loins.

  “I know quite a lot about managing an estate.” Summer struggled to retain her clarity, but his arms tightened about her, pressing her softness into his iron-ribbed chest, and she could resist the delicious languor lapping at her self-restraint no longer. She subsided gratefully into his ardent embrace.

  “The midday meal will be served in the breakfast parlor,” Pedro announced, stern disapproval in his voice.

  “Damn the man,” Brent muttered as Summer wriggled from his embrace and tried to repair the damage to her toilette. Her mood was fading rapidly and suddenly she laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Brent demanded, unamused.

  “It’s a good thing Pedro came along when he did, or you would have tumbled me right here on the path.”

  Brent responded with an inarticulate growl.

  “You can tell me what you plan to do with the plantation while we eat,” she invited, putting his arm around her and resting her head on his shoulder. “We can take up where we left off later.”

  But the meal didn’t go quite as she had expected. Brent began to talk about the plantation and all he had seen that morning, and soon he was deep into the changes and improvements he wanted to make. Summer listened attentively, making few comments other than to ask a question now and then. She knew that much of what Brent had in mind was difficult or impractical, but she was surprised at the interest he was taking in his land and the grasp he already showed of its management.

  “You sound like you’ve been a farmer all your life,” she said as Brent helped her into the trap. He had insisted that he show her some of his fields immediately after they’d eaten, and the trap had been at the door before they had risen from the table. “I never imagined a sea captain would take more than a slight interest in a plantation.”

  “Neither did I,” Brent confessed. He climbed up beside her and signaled the groom to stand away from the horses’ heads. He backed his pair effectively, but after long years at sea, he lacked the style of one who had been raised as a gentleman. “I guess I learned about more in Scotland than guns and horses. I no sooner found myself the owner of this than I thought of all manner of changes I wanted to make. I intend to do even more now.”

  “Will you go to sea again?” The answer to that question was very important to Summer.

  “I’m not sure. The Dutch aren’t nearly so worried about the English anymore, and I don’t want to go to sea as a pirate.”

  “You could become a legitimate trader.”

  “What’s the excitement in that? Not even Smith would want such a tame ending to ten years of adventure.”

  “If you had a home to return to, maybe you wouldn’t miss the sea so much,” Summer said hopefully.

  “Maybe I wouldn’t, but even if I do give up privateering, I’ll have to defend myself from other scoundrels just as the Sea Otter tried to defend itself against me.”

  “I never thought of it that way.”

  “I have. It would be better to settle here and make something of this place than to dwindle into a fat steward tending cargo.”

  “In that case, there is a question I would like to ask.” Summer looked at him tentatively.

  “What is it?” Brent’s smile was so warm the thought almost left her mind.

  “What’s going to happen to me?”

  Chapter 31

  “You’re going to stay here with me. I’m going to marry you.”

  Summer’s heart leapt into her throat. He’d said it so simply as if he were telling her some ordinary piece of news. It was nearly impossible for her to speak, but she had to. She must know what he meant before she was swept away by the euphoria building within her.

  “But I’m already married,” she said with difficulty. “Legally I’m the earl’s wife.”

  “You’re not going back to Gowan,” Brent barked. “I’ll never let that man touch you.”

  “But how can you marry me when I’m already married? Will they let you?”

  “Who is they?” Brent asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. Everybody I guess.”

  “They can’t stop us.”

  “They can make it impossible for us to be happy together.”

  “You’re the only one who has the power to do that,” he said, letting his hand slide suggestively along her side and up under her breast.

  “Will you stop thinking about my body for once and listen to me?” she said, knocking his hand away.

  “I can do both,” he answered, considerably startled by the vehemence of her outburst.

  “No you can’t. In a minute I’ll see your eyes begin to turn green, and I’ll know you’re out of reach.” She moved away from him. “Please listen. This is very important.

  “What I’m trying to say is that according to everyone else what we’re doing is totally wrong. As far as they’re concerned, I’m Gowan’s wife. It really doesn’t matter that I was forced to marry him. If I suffer in silence they’ll pity me, when they remember to think of me, but if I pretend to be your wife they’ll destroy us. They won’t care how bad Gowan is. They’ll only think I’ve committed a crime that cannot go unpunished.”

  “No one can destroy us if we don’t let them,” Brent declared.

  “Try to understand,” she begged. “They won’t care if I’m your mistress, but I won’t be allowed to be your wife. They’ll refuse to recognize me, and I’ll be ostracized if I attempt to force my way into their midst.”

  “I’ll see that you’re invited anywhere you want to go.” Brent now had a martial light in his eyes.

  Summer smiled lovingly at him, but shook her head. “This is one time you can’t change the rules. You can’t force people to accept those who trample on their social customs. That threatens everything they believe in, and they’ll fight back. It wouldn’t be easy for you either.”

  “I’ve been an outcast for years, but I’ve succeeded quite well in spite of it.”

  “It’s not only you I’m co
ncerned about. There are children to consider.”

  “We don’t have any children to worry about.”

  “We will, and I don’t want them to be brought into this world as bastards. And they would be because I’m not your wife, no matter how much I ought to be,” she added quickly to forestall his protest. “It was wrong of my father to sell me to my husband, but that doesn’t make the marriage illegal. Our children would never be accepted by the only strata of society they could really be a part of. Do you think the marquise would allow one of her sons to marry our daughter, even though she herself has seduced half the men in Havana?”

  “No,” he admitted thoughtfully, “she wouldn’t.”

  “Neither would anyone else, and you couldn’t expect our children to understand that.” Summer paused briefly, and then continued as by an act of will. “I know what it’s like to be unable to claim your rightful father, and I could never do that to a child of mine.”

  “What do you mean? Your parents were married.”

  Summer hung her head. “I never told you before, but Ashton is not my father. I didn’t know it myself until a few months ago. He probably never would have told me, but when he ordered me to marry the earl, I vowed I’d run away or do anything else I could to keep from marrying a man I’d never seen. That’s when he threatened to disown me, to throw me out of the house and tell everyone I wasn’t his daughter. He swore he’d cut me off without a penny so no one would marry me and I’d starve or be reduced to doing anything to stay alive.”

  “The rotten bastard ought to have his neck wrung,” Brent said savagely.

  “He was drunk, and scared. He had enormous gambling debts, and was afraid of what would happen to him if he couldn’t pay them off.”

  “Then who is your father?”

  “My mother created a terrible scandal by eloping with Frederick Boyleston. Somehow he died a few days later, and she was forced to marry Ashton and come out here. I’m Frederick Boyleston’s daughter.”