by Connie Mason
When Kateena didn’t move, Chris asked, “Is there something else, Kateena?”
Kateena opened her mouth, then promptly closed it.
“You may speak freely, Kateena. I respect everything my people have to say.”
“It’s about Miss Carlisle, Captain. It’s not fitting.”
Chris counted to ten before asking, “What isn’t fitting?”
“Miss Carlisle is a lady, sir. Her lack of wardrobe is—please forgive me—shameful. She doesn’t even have a decent petticoat.”
“I know little about women’s apparel.”
“If you allow me, Captain, I can help. I know of a dressmaker in Kingston, a free woman of color, who would be grateful for the work. She has materials too, purchased from your very own warehouse.”
“Very well, you may accompany Sophia to Kingston at her convenience to purchase what she needs.”
Apparently satisfied, Kateena curtsied and left Chris to brood in silence.
Despite his reluctance, Chris seemed to be involving himself deeper and deeper in Sophia’s life. He had rescued her from Rigby and had just agreed to purchase clothing for her. She should be on her way to England, damn it! Instead she was in his house, tempting him beyond redemption with her seductive eyes and enticing mouth.
Chris moved to the sideboard, poured a generous splash of rum from his own distillery into a glass and sat down to think. He sipped appreciatively of the dark liquor as he pondered the impossible situation in which he now found himself.
Sophia awoke from her nap feeling refreshed despite the humid breeze blowing through the open French doors. She rose, checked the hour on the small clock sitting on a nearby table and saw that it was six o’clock. Dinner was in one hour.
Sophia reached for the water pitcher. Just as she lifted it to pour water into a bowl, someone scratched on the door. “Come,” she called.
“I thought you might enjoy a bath, mistress,” Kateena said, easing into the room. “The water is already heated, and Chuba is waiting outside the door with the tub.”
Delighted, Sophia said, “You’re a treasure, Kateena. By all means, have Chuba bring in the tub. A bath is just what I need.”
The tub was set up and water carried in to fill it. Shortly thereafter, Sophia lowered herself into the warm water, scrubbing her skin with soap that smelled deliciously of jasmine. After Kateena washed and rinsed Sophia’s hair, she held a drying sheet aloft for her to step into.
“I pressed your dress, mistress,” Kateena said. “I’ll help you into it after I fix your hair. You’ll want to look your best tonight.”
Though Sophia saw no reason to look her best, she let Kateena fuss with her hair. Nothing she could do would impress Chris, she knew. The sight of her only reminded him of a tragedy he had struggled to forget.
At two minutes to seven, Sophia was dressed in a light green linen dress with a square neckline and high waist, her raven hair swept off her neck and piled atop her head. Since she had no petticoats or hoops, the gown closely hugged the soft curves of her figure, but there was nothing to be done about that. Dragging in a deep breath, Sophia descended the stairs. Chuba met her at the bottom and escorted her to the dining room.
Chris and Casper were waiting for her. “Casper, how grand you look,” Sophia exclaimed. The lad had dressed for dinner in dark brown trousers, a tan jacket and a snowy white shirt.
“You look grand, too, miss,” Casper said shyly. “I’m ever so glad you’re here.”
Sophia smiled but said nothing, aware that Chris wasn’t as pleased as Casper to have her at Sunset Hill. Casper continued to chatter as Chris came around and pulled out her chair. Sophia nodded her thanks, trying to concentrate on Casper instead of Chris’s handsome face and the muscular form clearly delineated beneath his buff trousers and brown jacket. Though his clothing could not be described as formal dinner wear, it seemed entirely proper for an informal dinner in tropical Jamaica.
If not for Casper’s boyish enthusiasm, dinner would have been a dismal affair despite the outstanding array of food Chandra had prepared for their enjoyment. They dined on spicy jerked pork and fried plantains, neither of which Sophia had had the pleasure of eating before, sweet potatoes and various vegetables. And for dessert Chandra had made a luscious flan, a type of custard topped by caramel sauce.
Chris said very little during the meal, although he did direct a frown at Sophia from time to time. She had no idea what he was thinking, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was wishing her elsewhere.
“Is it all right if I take a stroll outside?” Sophia asked after the meal. “It’s such a lovely night. I know there must be a garden, for the scent of flowers in the air is strong.”
“I’ll show you the garden, miss,” Casper offered. “It’s a bit overrun with weeds but still pretty—if you like that sort of thing.”
“And you don’t?” Sophia teased.
Casper blushed. “Flowers are for women. We men have more important things on our minds, don’t we, Captain?”
Sophia could tell that Chris was suppressing a laugh when the corners of his mouth twitched. “Indeed, lad, we men couldn’t care less about flowers and such. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to show Sophia the garden myself. I have a matter of importance to discuss with her.”
Casper’s disappointment was so apparent that Sophia said, “Another time, Casper. And it would please me if you’d call me Sophia.”
Casper glanced from Sophia to Chris before nodding. “I’d like that. Good night, Sophia, Captain.”
“Good night, lad. Why don’t you read another chapter in the book of geography I gave you? Your reading skills need improving, as does your knowledge of the world.”
“Aye, Captain,” Casper said. He gave a smart salute and marched off.
“Casper is a delightful boy,” Sophia said. “He’s lucky to have someone like you to care for him.”
“I’m lucky to have Casper,” Chris replied. He offered his arm. “Are you ready for that walk in the garden?”
Sophia steeled herself for her confrontation with Chris. The time had arrived; she could no longer put it off. She placed her hand on his arm. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Chris ushered her through a pair of French doors that opened onto a veranda and down a short flight of stairs. The grass felt lush beneath her slippers as they walked down a path overgrown with a tangle of flowers and weeds and bordered by tall palm trees swaying in the breeze. In the light of a full moon, it was a beautiful spot, even though the jungle was trying to encroach upon the garden.
“This is almost how I envision Paradise,” Sophia said, sighing wistfully. “I’ve never seen such a brilliant night.”
Chris stared at her, her beauty luminescent in the moonlight.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His voice was gravelly; revealingly deep.
Sophia ignored the compliment as she walked slightly ahead of him. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off her. She moved as if she were made of shadow and mist, floating on a gentle breeze. He shook his head to rid it of disturbing thoughts and cleared his throat. Two steps brought him beside her.
“You know it’s time for answers, don’t you, Sophia?”
“I suppose you’re right. What do you wish to know?”
He led her to a bench beneath a palm tree and seated her. “Tell me everything. Start from the beginning.”
“The beginning,” Sophia repeated. “Very well. As you know, the duel and Desmond’s death created a scandal of major proportions. As a result, I was shunned by Society. The ton held me responsible for the duel and its tragic aftermath.”
Chris nodded. “They had good reason to blame you.”
Sophia gulped back her hurt. “It wasn’t the outcome I intended. Nevertheless, Father waited a few days to see if you would offer for me, and when you didn’t, he banished me to the country. He was convinced that I was unmarriageable, and Rayford supported his decision.”
“How long did y
ou stay in the country?”
“I didn’t return to London until just recently. Father died two years ago, and Ray gambled away his wife’s dowry and what little Father left us. That was when Ray decided that I should come to London to try once again to find a rich husband.”
She took a deep breath and continued. “I didn’t want to return to London. I was safe in the country, you see. Besides, I’m twenty-four and couldn’t compete with young debutantes. After a few weeks, Rayford realized there was no hope of snagging a rich husband and decided on another course.”
She fell silent, staring down at her clenched fists resting in her lap.
“Go on. What happened next? Where does Rigby fit in?”
Sophia hated to remember Rigby’s lascivious attack or her brother’s duplicity.
“Continue, Sophia. So far you haven’t told me anything I hadn’t already guessed.”
“Ray lost over five hundred pounds to Sir Oscar Rigby during the short time we’d been in London. Sir Oscar wanted his money before he returned to the West Indies and threatened to send Ray to debtor’s prison if he didn’t settle up.”
She glanced at Chris. “Are you sure you want to hear the rest?”
“Very sure.”
“Ray struck a deal with Sir Oscar. He sold that vile man my virginity in exchange for his vowels. He asked me to oblige Sir Oscar and I refused. I thought that was the end of it. But the following evening Ray dismissed the servants, admitted Sir Oscar into the house and then left. I had no idea what those two scoundrels had cooked up until Sir Oscar entered my bedroom and tried to assault me.”
“The bastard!” Chris bit out.
“I struggled, of course,” Sophia continued. She paused, recalling that horrific moment. “I tricked him into believing I was agreeable and managed to tie him to a chair. I dressed quickly and ran. He escaped easily enough and followed, but I managed to push him down the stairs and hit him with a vase, though that didn’t stop him for long. I fled into the night with him hard on my heels. Somewhere along the way he’d summoned the Watch.
“I ran and ran but couldn’t seem to escape them. I had no idea where I was going and found myself near the river. I ducked into a saloon to throw them off my trail and learned that several ships were docked at Southwark quay. I left the saloon and found the quay easily enough, but the Intrepid was the only ship with its gangplank run out. I had no idea she was yours when I sneaked aboard. I was desperate to escape Sir Oscar. Had he caught me, I would have ended up in Newgate . . . or worse.”
She darted a look at Chris. He seemed to be staring into space. But the look on his face was not comforting. Sophia took a deep breath and said, “Now do you understand why I don’t want to return to England? Rayford is desperate for money; he will sell me again to any man who meets his price. The next man might succeed where Sir Oscar failed.”
“Where did you intend to go when you ran out of the house?”
“Anywhere Rayford couldn’t find me. I intended to find work, even if I had to serve drinks at the lowliest inn or scrub floors. I didn’t want to remain dependent on Ray for my livelihood. If and when I lose my virginity, I will choose the man.”
Chris looked up at her, his face stark with an emotion she couldn’t read. “I can understand your reluctance to return to England, Sophia, but . . .”
“But what?”
“Go farther back than that. Go back seven years. Make me understand why you told me you loved me, then accepted Desmond’s proposal.”
“I did love you, Chris.”
“No, you didn’t. You enjoyed having the attention of two men, teasing us with your wicked-as-sin eyes and lying mouth. Why did you do it?”
His eyes seemed to beg her for an honest reply, but Sophia hesitated. What good would it do? He already thought the worst of her. He had broken her heart once; she wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
“Perhaps I did enjoy the attention of two handsome men,” Sophia lied. “I was young and, yes, foolish, and could see no harm in it.”
“No harm!” Chris spat. “How in God’s name can you say there was no harm in Desmond’s death?”
“I can’t, but I wasn’t the one who killed him,” Sophia whispered. Chris’s stricken look made her wish she could call back her words.
He stood abruptly and stalked off.
Chris stormed back to the house, entered his study and slammed the door. Sophia’s words had cut him deeply. Neither he nor Desmond had intended to kill the other. It was simply a friendly feud over a woman they both desired.
Chris walked to the sideboard, splashed a tot of rum into a glass and sank into a comfortable chair. What was he going to do about Sophia? After listening to her story, he understood why she didn’t want to return to her brother’s keeping. But after that fiasco at the inn with Rigby, finding employment in Kingston was out of the question.
Mired deep in his own misery, Chris struggled to keep memories of Desmond at bay. Had Fate led Sophia to his ship? Why did he still care about her welfare? Before he knew it, he had finished that first tot of rum and poured another. The alcohol burned all the way down his gullet and into his stomach but did nothing to ease his dilemma.
Chris had no idea how much time had elapsed since he’d left Sophia in the garden. Sometime later he heard her enter the house and climb the stairs to her room. And still he sat. The longer he sat, the more rum he consumed, and the alcohol seemed to affect him in a strange way. The anger and pain he had felt earlier slowly dissipated, replaced by lust for the woman who had caused his distress.
His gut clenched with the need to bed Sophia.
Sophia felt as if she carried the world on her shoulders. She hadn’t meant to hurt Chris. She had waited in the garden for him to return, but when he hadn’t, she’d sought her bed. But sleep eluded her. She wasn’t tired in the least after her long nap earlier in the day. Besides, it was too hot to sleep.
She had left the French doors to the upper-floor balcony open to let in the breeze and felt a waft of coolness touch her feverish skin. She closed her eyes, trying to summon sleep, when she heard footsteps pause at her door and then continue on.
Chris!
Was his room nearby? She hadn’t inquired and hadn’t had time yet to explore the house. Her mind wandered. Should she leave Sunset Hill tomorrow? Obviously, Chris didn’t want her around to dredge up painful memories. Finally her mind shut down and she slept.
A slight noise awakened her. She sat upright in bed. The sound came from the balcony. She saw a shadow move though the French doors. She opened her mouth to scream but quickly closed it when she recognized Chris’s muscular form limned by the brilliant moonlight. She watched him approach, large, dangerous. Moonlight silvered his hair, rendering his face harsh in its stark light. She smelled sulfur as a light flared in the oil lamp.
Sophia blinked at the sudden light and pulled the sheet up to her neck. “What do you want?”
He sent her a strange look, as if surprised to find himself in her bedroom. “I came to apologize.” His words were slightly slurred.
Sophia peered closely at him. “You’re foxed.”
He shook his head. “I never drink to excess. Not anymore.”
Sophia didn’t believe him. “Go away.”
“Not until I apologize for walking away from you in the garden tonight.”
He wanted to apologize? “Chris, it’s late. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“Yes, it could, but I can’t.”
He settled on the edge of the bed. “Everything you said is true. I held the gun, I fired the pistol, but the bullet wasn’t supposed to hit Desmond.”
“I know you hold me responsible and that my presence here in your home makes you uncomfortable.”
Chris plowed his fingers through his hair. “You’re right, Sophia, you do make me uncomfortable, but not precisely in the way you think. You tempt me despite my best intentions. I can’t trust myself around you, but becoming involved with you again is out of the que
stion.”
Sophia nodded. “I’ll leave Sunset Hill, but I’m not returning to England.”
Sophia touched his arm. He stiffened, as if her touch revolted him. When she started to retreat, he groaned and pulled her to him so tightly she could barely breathe. Then his mouth claimed hers. His kiss tasted of unbridled, unfulfilled passion, and Sophia realized it had been simmering inside him all along, unacknowledged, unrequited. Then his tongue swept inside her mouth, thrusting deep. She tasted rum. Moments later, he was lying beside her without her knowing how it had happened.
Sophia tried to push him away. Knowing how he felt about her, she couldn’t let him to do this. If he disliked her now, he would despise her in the morning. No matter how much he denied it, Sophia knew he was foxed and would accuse her of leading him on once he sobered.
When Chris paused to take a breath, Sophia seized the moment to offer a protest. “Chris, you don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, aye, I do. Very much.” He inhaled deeply. “You smell like flowers. Though I may be damned forever, Sophia, I need to be inside you.”
His words shattered Sophia’s resistance. She had dreamed of this moment since the first day Chris had walked into her life. Now she was keenly aware of his body next to hers, of her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, his manly scent, the roughness of his skin. The passing years had not dimmed her memory of the man she had fallen in love with.
But Sophia did not want Chris this way. He wanted her body, but he didn’t care about the person she was. And no matter what, he still intended to force her to leave Jamaica against her will.
Suddenly Sophia became aware of a new torment. Chris had lowered the sheet and was slowly raising her shift, baring her body to his avid gaze. A harsh sound gurgled from his throat as he put his hands on the insides of her thighs, spreading them.
Sophia nearly jumped out of her skin when Chris opened her with his thumbs, baring the most vulnerable part of her. With slow deliberation he lowered his head. Before Sophia realized what he intended, she felt his hot breath teasing her intimate flesh.