by Vanda Vadas
The significance behind the island’s name, and Zach’s ship the Justice, did not escape Eloise’s notice. She smiled at the anticipation in Judd’s voice. ‘Does anyone await your return?’
‘I be blessed with a wife and twin boys, miss.’
‘Twins! How old are they?’
‘Six.’ He pointed to the circling gulls. ‘Mind now.’
As Judd returned to his duties, Eloise let her gaze resettle on Zach. Who awaited his return? Did that someone regularly share his bed? A stab of jealousy hit her hard. Surely by now he felt, as she did, a deeper connection than just the common thread of despising Gareth. Once they returned to England, and Gareth’s day of reckoning had passed, what then? Life for her would never be the same.
Insecurity, as raw as the day her parents died, drew her to the rail alongside Zach.
‘You’ll like Mercy Island,’ he said. ‘It’s been my home since …’ His gaze drifted to the horizon. ‘For many years now.’ The sadness in his voice tolled like church bells.
‘Land ahoy!’ The shout came loud and clear from the crow’s nest.
Zach pointed. ‘There, Eloise! Do you see it?’
She squinted. ‘Only just.’
In silence, they stared ahead at the approaching dark land mass. Sea spray dampened their skin. The ocean whooshed against the ship’s hull. Gulls cried overhead and the sun bathed the world in golden warmth.
Not for the first time, Eloise mused over why Zach had chosen a life of piracy when he’d abandoned his home. She’d hoped that in their quieter moments, or after having invested in each other’s trust during their lovemaking, that he might have shared with her his deeper secrets. Only now did courage have her broach the subject.
‘Zach?’ His obsidian eyes engaged hers. ‘The scars on your back. How –?’
Her mouth clamped shut when he clenched his jaw. His skin drew taut over his cheeks and chin. He stood rigid, tense. Her question had perhaps resurrected memories more painful than the lash. She’d overstepped the mark. ‘I’m sorry. I had no right to ask.’
‘Everyone asks. Sooner, or later.’
She shuddered beneath the intensity of his stare. The memory of his ordeal would rekindle his suffering. How thoughtless of her. She moved to slink away, uncomfortable in his presence.
He caught her wrist. ‘If there’s anyone who deserves to know, it’s you.’ He swallowed, and let her go.
Eloise waited. Patiently. She did not underestimate what it would cost him to reopen the wounds of his past.
‘I made my way to Portsmouth and gained passage to the Americas. At sea, pirates boarded the ship. Crew and passengers were given a choice. Death by torture or turn to a life of piracy.’
A cruel choice.
‘The pirate captain and his henchmen took their pleasure in administering pain for the sport of it. We were at the receiving end of the captain’s whim. After the flogging, I was thrown in the hold for five days. No light. No food. Just water.’
His telling of such a horrific ordeal closed off her throat.
‘Seth had previously been pressed into service aboard that ship. If not for him secretly tending my wounds and feeding me, I’d not be standing here today.’
Eloise couldn’t bear to think or ask what became of the women and children aboard that ship. She was grateful to Zach for sparing her the gruesome details. She pressed her body against the rail and stared out to sea. Trembling hands gripped the rail to resist flinging her arms around him. He would not welcome her tears or pity. Especially in view of his crew.
‘I bided my time,’ he said. ‘Learned all I could about the ship, charting the waters, the weather and winds.’
How many men had he killed when boarding a prize or under counter-attack? Perhaps he had no choice other than live or die. Survive. ‘How did you free yourself from that life?’
‘I led a mutiny and gained control of the ship. As the new captain, I signed up as a privateer in the war against Spain, and gained sufficient wealth to purchase an island and settle there.’
‘Is that when you set your sights on Gareth?’
‘Yes. That and establishing a prosperous sugar plantation. My crew are paid well for their hard work and loyalty. They each own a parcel of land. There are others who live there. Both white and coloured folk. No one is owned or bound to another.’
‘I see.’
‘Think of me what you will, Eloise. The scars on my back have healed, but it’s those on the inside that still fester. When Gareth is dead, as I’ve been these past ten years, then I will be at peace with myself.’
She whirled around. ‘And at war with me.’ He pressed a palm to her cheek. She flinched from his touch. ‘Is it not hypocritical you christen your assets the Justice and Mercy Island, when your soul is blackened by malice and vengeance?’
He withdrew his hand as fast as if she’d bitten him. ‘I seek to inspire a decent way of life among those who have been treated otherwise.’
‘Justice and mercy are merely words. Actions are what demonstrate a way of life. You send your people the wrong message with your revenge against Gareth. It’s the only thing that sustains you. An eye for an eye. A law unto yourself. He may have stolen your identity and your privileged life, but he didn’t kill you.’
Zach threw his head back and laughed without mirth. ‘He damned well tried! I will succeed where he failed.’
‘There are other ways to even the score between you,’ she begged.
He looked at her in disbelief. ‘Your parents burned to death because of this man. How easily you forgive him.’
She was struck by the cold contempt in his words. ‘Make no mistake about it. I share your thirst for retaliation against Gareth. He must pay for what he’s done, but let the law stain its hand of his blood, not you. Don’t let your hate for him turn you into a cold-blooded murderer. That’s not who you are.’
His nostrils flared, jaw firm. ‘Don’t try to save me, Eloise. I’m not worth your trouble.’
‘Yes, you are,’ she whispered to his retreating back.
Breathtaking. Eloise could find no other word to describe what she saw.
Two large mountains jutted out from the ground at either end of the island. A valley stretched in between. Sand whiter than blanched almonds edged the shores. Her gaze swept the layers of colour, from the lush green vegetation and sun-bleached sands, to the vast blue-green of the ocean.
The helmsman piloted the Justice through the channels and into a cove. A long, wide wharf extended out from the shore. The crew readied themselves to rope the vessel to its moorings.
That done, Zach yelled, ‘Secure the gangplank.’ He beckoned Eloise. ‘Welcome to Mercy Island.’
She sniffed the warm air, a fragrant mixture of sweet florals, spice and earthy plant life.
Zach smiled at her with an appraising nod. ‘How nice to see you’ve changed into your skirt and blouse.’
Eloise accepted the compliment with grace. ‘I’m a lady, after all.’ She took his proffered hand and they disembarked.
The cheering crowd sent her curious stares. Two small children broke rank and ran towards them. ‘Papa! Papa!’
Zach’s face lit up. Her stomach twisted. He had family.
The children ran around and behind them, straight into Judd’s widespread arms.
‘The twins!’ Eloise laughed in relief.
Well-wishers converged on them. Safe return had earned Zach praise, pats on the back and handshakes. Men, women and children singled out and embraced the crewmen that followed.
Eloise turned when tapped on the shoulder. Judd stood proud, a child in each arm.
‘These are my sons, miss. And this be my wife, Mary.’
Eloise exchanged kind pleasantries then watched the happy family disappear into the crowd.
In the melée, she’d separated from Zach and soon spied him talking to a white woman close to the tall palms fringing the beach. Waist-length dark hair cascaded down her back. The long taupe dress she wore would draw any m
an’s gaze to her ample curves. She lifted her hands to Zach’s shoulders, drawing him close, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Jealousy stirred once more. Eloise watched Zach shrug out of the woman’s embrace. He said something and then swiftly intercepted her slap to his face. The woman whirled away and stormed off into the dense foliage.
Eloise turned her back, pretending not to have seen what looked to be a lovers’ quarrel. She had no idea what to make of their exchange. How many women awaited his return?
She removed her shoes and tucked them under her arm. At the water’s edge, she lifted her skirt just enough not to get it wet. Warm, soft sand crunched underfoot and squelched between her toes. Cool, gentle waves washed over her feet. She looked seaward.
And longed for home.
‘Come with me, Eloise.’
Zach’s commanding voice at her side made her jump. He walked on. When she didn’t move, he stopped, looked back and motioned for her to follow.
She hesitated, disappointed he made no attempt to explain who the woman was or what she meant to him. What did she expect? He wasn’t answerable to her and pride prevented her from asking. She and Zach were lovers. Nothing more.
Lovers. The lone word liberated something within, an emotion underscored by a fervent sense of eternal attachment. One she could not name or identify. She couldn’t bear to think other women capable of breaching that bond between them.
At his insistence, they walked along the shore. Stone ramparts had been strategically placed intermittently along the beach with a cannon secured atop each one. Armed men guarded each post.
Zach observed her curiosity. ‘This island is a scattered jewel in the Caribbean and there are those who covet its possession.’
‘Other pirates?’ She hadn’t meant to deliver a sting in her tone.
‘Among others.’
She slipped her shoes back on when they left the beach to follow a trail deep into the tropical rainforest. Trees, varied in height and thickness, competed for space and sunlight. Vines, lichen and mushrooms covered the outer bark of some, while broad-leafed ferns littered the ground to form an undulating verdant carpet.
Zach pointed out wild heliconias and ginger lilies. They added a splash of red against a green canvas. Eloise jumped at the sound of rustling from the brushwood. A red-legged thrush emerged and made a dash for thicker scrub. Her gaze lifted to the treetops where a family of small monkeys swung from branch to branch in an effort to intimidate her with their shrill jeers.
They came into view of a white two-storey house, built on a solid foundation of volcanic blocks. It stood proud and magnificent on a hill to one side of the plantation. Large windows with open sky-blue shutters would allow for easy airflow.
Well-maintained gardens, rich with exotic plants and flowers, encompassed the entire house. Half a dozen tall palm trees stood like sentries, guarding the heart of the plantation. Eloise followed Zach up the sweeping stone steps towards the front door. She heard excited laughter. A large, buxom woman with skin the colour of treacle rushed forwards to embrace him. When she let go, she spared Eloise a cursory glance before fixing Zach with a less-than-impressed stare. Her raised brows disappeared beneath her colourful head tie.
Zach looked from one woman to the other. ‘Eloise, this is Kamania, my housekeeper.’ Then, to Kamania, ‘She is our guest and will accompany me back to England.’
The older woman stood with closed fists on her hips. She cast a deprecating eye over Zach. ‘Captin. Shame on you for starvin’ dis flower of a child.’
‘This child has the appetite of a horse,’ he protested.
‘Shhst!’ She swatted the air. ‘Dat ship food be no better den slops.’ She wrapped a matronly arm around Eloise’s shoulders and guided her through the front door. ‘Come, sweet child. Kamania will fix you sometin’ to fatten you up. You feel like one sorry bag of bones.’
Eloise threw Zach a wide grin. He may be master and commander of his ship and crew, but there was no doubting just who was in charge of his household. Eloise welcomed the prospect of female companionship, and an ally in Kamania.
Zach threw his arms up in mock defeat and dutifully followed on their heels.
Chapter Twenty
First thing the following morning, they beached the Justice in a secluded cove. A team of men scraped barnacles and weed from the hull and others repaired signs of wear and tear. Zach had ordered the ship be ready at a moment’s notice for their next voyage. He would not have their speed and manageability compromised when in pursuit of his final prize.
Word had it that the cargo aboard Gareth’s remaining ship would fetch a healthy sum. Enough to cover his debts. What commodity did it carry that was so different to previous shipments? The question left Zach feeling ill at ease, yet determined to intercept and deny his half-brother from landing the proceeds of his consignment.
Zach spent the next three days immersed in the business of running the plantation. He laboured over ledgers and records, and discussed with the plantation manager ways to ensure its continued success. He consulted with the mill foreman. Together, they carried out a full inspection of the stone mills with their wind-driven sails used to grind the sugar cane.
The foreman explained how one of the female workers, employed to feed the raw sugar cane into the mill’s machinery, had required the swift amputation of her left hand. He’d used a long thin blade, as razor sharp as a cutlass, to sever her limb. It was either that, or the mill’s rollers would have drawn in and minced her arm.
On his rounds of the village, Zach paid the woman a visit to confirm her recovery and well-being. He stopped to talk with the people sitting outside their homes. With the harvest complete and the regeneration of soil underway, they put their time and energy to good use.
A group of men sat cross-legged on the ground stripping bark off green sticks from the maho tree. They intertwined the bark to make strong rope. Others wove guava root, wamba vine or pandanus grass into baskets, essential for the storage of personal items, fishing, agriculture or trade.
Women chatted and bent over iron pots that stood on stones above an open fire. The air held the pungent scent of fish stew combined with eddoes and yams.
Children ran to him, latching their plump little hands about his knees and thighs. He gave them handfuls of peppermint sticks, a promised treat from England. They squealed with delight and seated themselves around him on the lush grass beneath the shade of a banyan tree.
One small child scrambled onto his lap. Her head boasted a shock of short, tightly braided plaits tied off with ribbons. They bobbed about like tiny springs each time she moved her head. As the children licked and smacked their lips around the candy, Zach obliged their pleas to be enthralled with yet another of his over-exaggerated sea-faring tales.
Leaving the children, he continued to speak with the island’s people and listened to their praise for the plantation manager who’d instigated many changes to improve the quality of their lives. Extra housing was under construction to cater for extended families. Careful attention to the crops had ensured no one went hungry. A sense of peace and pride existed among the people. Mercy Island prospered.
If only Eloise would recognise that. His personal misgivings had no outward effect on those who lived here. Men were not forced to crew his ship. It was their choice to follow his lead, no matter his cause. Each one of them had paid him their dues in loyalty over the years. They were at liberty to leave the island, or earn a wage from either the land or as a member of his crew.
Zach felt at leisure now to give his full attention to Eloise. He had no further excuse to avoid her or the truth of her words in seeing him for what he really was: a man hell-bent on killing his unworthy half-brother, even if it meant destroying himself. He was not content with her suggestion to have the law mete out Gareth’s punishment. Where was the satisfaction in that?
He didn’t expect her to understand. She never would.
After so many weeks at sea, Eloise embraced inde
pendence and freedom and spent the first few days discovering, on foot, the coastline’s remarkable beauty. Coconut palms and full sea grape trees swayed in the breeze. Aqua-hued water sparkled beneath a searing sun. It was as though a divine hand had waved a palette of colour over the earth and added a sprinkling of wildflower fragrance to tickle her senses.
The ever-present beat of a distinctly African drum sounded in the distance. Yesterday, curious onlookers had watched her sway to the rhythm. Without a care, she’d lifted the hem of her skirt to walk ankle deep into the water, ever mindful of Kamania’s warning: Now child, don’t go and git yourself drowned. I won’t be savin’ you!
Regrettably, swimming was not essential to a young lady’s education, and so Eloise had promised to only brave the water’s edge. She’d filled her lungs with invigorating salt-sea air then taken off at a sprint from one end of the beach to the other, shoes in hand. Where and when would such behaviour be permissible in England?
This morning, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, scarcely recognising the image staring back at her. Her hair fell loose about her shoulders and down her back. She wore a white, short-sleeved blouse with a low-scooped neckline and a skirt, simply cut and gathered at the waist. Kamania was right. Loose-fitting cotton allowed her skin to breathe in the tropical heat.
Milk-coloured skin had long since given way to a healthy glow. Lady Wentworth would take a turn for the worse should she see her, branding the tanned complexion as appalling, scandalous. Indecent.
In her reflection, Eloise saw what others would see. An unsalvageable reputation. Captive to a highwayman. A pirate’s mistress.
Despair set in like rot to wood. Where was the man to whom she’d gifted her virtue? In his company, she’d grown comfortable and secure.
Safe.
How she missed the thrill of the moment when he would step inside the ship’s cabin at night and turn the key in the lock. They’d spent hours indulging in mindless passion. She’d been the centre of Zach’s universe only to be discarded and left to her own devices since arriving.