Lynna's Rogue

by Kitty Margo

Lynna had never felt hatred before, but she felt the emotion full force now. He was so tranquil, when her entire life was in shambles. He would have no trouble turning his back and walking away without a care. She could only stare at him, her feelings accurately mirrored in her sky blue gaze. He had performed the vacuous act of sex with her, plain and simple, just as Malcolm had tried to do. Just as any man would try, evidently. And she would suffer the consequences of his actions… alone.

  Then a humorous thought struck her and she laughed aloud as she suddenly realized her father was sending her to Georgia to live. Yet, when she arrived she would not be allowed to linger for long. Not after her tante learned of her impossible to conceal condition. They would send her packing to avoid the shame, scandal, and malicious gossip, just as Miss Johnson's relatives had done with their daughter. Whose threshold would she eventually wind up on? She ceased laughing as a single tear rolled down her cheek and she heard the door close behind him.

  It was a pale and drawn Joshua who brought Lynna's dinner tray three weeks later. His haggard appearance validated the fact that he’d had little sleep during the past few weeks. This thrilled Lynna to the very core, almost making her giggle. Heaven knows she would laugh out loud at anything today. After a wretched night of painful cramps and discovering that she was not with child, she had longed to cavort across the deck, laughing, shouting, and singing praises to the high heavens.

  She could not yield to the desire, however, for Joshua might witness her sudden merriment and guess the truth. That could not be permitted to happen. Not if she could help it. She faced the window to conceal the light she knew must be dancing in her eyes.

  Her intent was to make him suffer as much as she had, if that was possible. Preferably for the remainder of his miserable life! Forced several times to hide her smile behind her hand, she knew she must be more careful and wipe all signs of merriment from her face, for Joshua was a very perceptive man and had been known to enter without knocking. Had he done so this time he would have caught her spinning gaily around the cabin without a care in the world.

  “Lynna, I have decided to return to my cabin,” he announced immediately upon entering.

  “Non! You will do no such thing!” she insisted, whirling to face him. With her hands on her hips and her breasts thrust forward she made an alluring sight. “I fear I must decline the invitation of your company, sir, for I can assure you that you and I shall never again occupy the same living quarters.”

  “Oh contraire, my pet.” He smiled wickedly. “I feel I must insist. Since you obviously carry my child, I find no logical reason for us to remain apart. The damage has been done, so we have naught else to fear. We can make love to our hearts’ content. And you requested that we be wed, did you not?”

  When she failed to answer, he continued, “I have come to grant your most fervent wish. When we arrive in Charleston we will be married and spend the remainder of our days as husband and wife. You, me, and our adorable offspring. Of a certainty, my parents have beseeched me for years to wed and present them with at least a dozen grandchildren.”

  He burst out laughing at her look of stricken horror. “I can be very persistent, Lynna, and I assure you there will be no changing my mind on this point. I have given the matter careful consideration and decided that I cannot see my child raised without a father. I shall go now and have my belongings returned to my cabin.”

  “Non!” she almost screamed the word. She could not allow him to return to his cabin and risk a repeat performance of their first night together. “That will not be necessary, as I have recently discovered that I am not enceinte.”

  “Yes, I guessed as much,” he said, eyeing her with disdain. “However, you did not plan on enlightening me, did you?”

  “Quite honestly, non. You do not deserve the truth. Although, I must give credit where credit is due. You have taught me a great deal these past few weeks. I have acquired more knowledge while onboard your ship than I learned in the last seventeen years at the Chateau. For that much, I am grateful. I feel certain I can now face my new life and any obstacles or hardships that happen my way after this journey with you.” She paused to gaze across the ocean toward her homeland. “But I do not believe I will ever forgive my father, or Gertrude, for keeping so much vital information from me. If I had been better informed, none of this would have happened. I would have known to steer clear of a rogue like you, Captain Jordan.”

  She moved to stand before him, her cerulean eyes locked with his, her moist lips inches from his own. Before she knew what was happening, Joshua had her in his arms and his soft lips found hers. Lynna wanted desperately to respond to his embrace, give free rein to her rising passion and enjoy the ecstasy she remembered so well. But she could not. She would never grant him forgiveness or risk living through the hell of the last few weeks again. She slapped him soundly across the face. A slap that was woefully late in coming.

  “Don’t ever do that again, Lynna,” Joshua gritted as he rubbed his reddening cheek. “Yes, you have been through a trying ordeal. But so have I. I cannot remember when I last slept for more than an hour at a time or ate a meal without worrying if you were also eating. But do not vex your pretty little head. If I ever touch you again it will be because you begged me to!”

  “Hah!” She laughed, harshly. “Beg you? I pray that I never lay eyes on you again!”

  “It seems you will get your wish. We will be docking in Charleston within the hour.” He stopped, turned at the door, and whispered, “Au revoir, Lynna.”

  Then, he walked out of her life.

  Chapter Five

  Three Years Later

  Joshua leaned over the rail, gazing into the swirling fluorescent water as it lapped against the hull of the Windjammer. It was a lazy, slapping sound and one that had lulled him to sleep many restless nights, especially when his head had been filled with thoughts of a golden-haired French beauty. Now the sound was bittersweet. For after today there would be no more salty sea breezes, no more moon swept nights listening to the wind fill the billowing sails, and no more late night walks on deck where he would spent countless hours gazing into the constellations and wondering what if. What if Lynna had carried his child? What if he had wed her? Would he now be settled on his family’s plantation bouncing a baby on each knee? What if? Would he have Lynna in his arms each night instead of only imagining her there? What if he hadn’t been such a completely selfish jackass and had wed her years ago?

  Enough of rehashing the past. He had done enough in the last three years to last a lifetime. He was going home. Home. Where instead of being surrounded by a brilliant, sparkling sea and sailing to exciting destinations, his feet would be firmly and permanently anchored on dry land. Realizing that it might be years before he felt the deck rolling with the easy swells again, he had left the job of sailing the ship to his first mate.

  Now he stood on deck, gazing out across the ocean that he loved so dearly and feeling that the best years of his life were behind him, a part of his carefree, sorely to be missed, past. But his parents needed him, and that was where he belonged. Joshua blinked several times as his eyes misted at the thought of his beloved parents, Jeremiah and Patricia.

  His boisterous father, tall, robust, and the picture of health, had always enjoyed life to the fullest. Ever the jokester, his love for practical jokes was well known throughout the plantation, especially by his wife, the recipient of the majority of his shenanigans. Joshua could not have asked for a happier childhood or better parents.

  He had not learned of the tragedy until last Christmas when he had returned home for the holidays after an extended sea voyage. He remembered galloping up the road toward home, filled with excitement at seeing his family after almost a year at sea. But something was amiss at Sea Grove. He had sensed it even before entering the silent house. It was too still. Too quiet. No joyful Christmas hymns filled the house. No freshly cut Christmas greenery and mistletoe or scent of cedar drifting through every room. No sounds of the chil
dren's gay laughter echoing from the slave quarters. It was as quiet as if the plantation was in mourning. Mourning! Oh dear God! “Mother!” he had shouted, taking the stairs two at a time. “Mother!”

  Flossie, his childhood nanny, had met him halfway down the stairs with a worried frown puckering her forehead. Giving him a heartfelt embrace, she whispered, “You sho’ is a sight fo’ so’ eyes, Mist’ Joshua. We is mighty glad to have you home. Yessuh, mighty glad to have you back home wit’ us.”

  “What has happened, Flossie?”

  “Go on up to yo’ Pa's room, Mist’ Joshua,” she whispered, wiping at a torrent of tears. “You jes’ go on up and see yo’ Pa.”

  A cold sweat had covered his body as he slowly climbed the curving staircase and nervously opened the door to his parents’ room. Even though he had tried to prepare for anything he might find at the top of that long flight of stairs, he had come up short. The sight of his father's stump of a body lying on his bed, deathly pale with his eyes open, but seeing nothing, had sent a shockwave through his body that left him stunned and chilled to the marrow of his bones.

  Joshua recalled how his father's laughing eyes would twinkle with mischief when he chased his daughter around the yard with a harmless green snake, or when he was slipping a June bug down his wife’s bodice. He remembered as a youngster when his father would hitch him over his broad shoulders and carry him through the fields, explaining the intricacies of growing cotton.

  In the past, his father had loved to dance at the numerous balls held at Sea Grove, with every family in the county attending. Now he didn’t even have legs. There would be no more dancing at Sea Grove. Whether his father was joking with friends, or grabbing his mother in a hug that lifted her clear off the ground, Jeremiah always had laughter in his eyes. Now those eyes were dull and lifeless, staring blankly at the ceiling.

  His mother had risen from her seat beside the bed, a woman whose appearance had aged several years since he had last seen her. Dark circles lay under her eyes and her shiny brown hair, that had been the envy of many, had almost turned the color of snow. But what disturbed Joshua most was her dramatic weight loss. She was almost skeletal.

  “Oh, my darling, I am so glad you are home!” she had cried. “Please tell me you are home to stay until your father...” She stopped abruptly, and then quietly ushered him into her adjacent room, where she proceeded to fill him in on the gory details of the accident.

  Joshua cringed as his mother related the story of how Jeremiah and several of the slaves had been cutting the winter’s supply of firewood. Having spent the greater part of his youth clearing fields with his father, Jeremiah was an expert at felling trees and knew to stay well clear of their path. However, with no thought for his own safety, he had rushed into the path of a giant falling oak after spotting a little girl standing paralyzed with fear precisely where the tree would land. Jeremiah had moved with a speed that had surprised even him, but still not fast enough.

  He had just time to shove the frightened child to safety before a blinding pain struck as the massive oak splintered around him. One of the limbs, twelve inches in diameter, had knocked him to the ground, landing on his legs and crushing every bone from his knees down. As blessed darkness had washed over him, Jeremiah was sure he was going to meet his Maker. Instead he had awakened a fortnight later, with both legs amputated from the knees down, and wishing that he had.

  He did have an occasional good day. When Jeremiah was awake and lucid, he talked endlessly of the little girl and worried about her safety. At night he would wake everyone in the house as he shouted to the child, “Run! Get out of the way!” The bewildering part was that no one else had seen the little girl, only Jeremiah.

  No matter how many threats were issued, the slaves adamantly refused to enter the patch of woods where the accident had occurred. Slaves, being a superstitious lot, swore that the angry spirit of the little girl haunted the woods. They fully believed that not only had the spirit caused Jeremiah’s accident, but that she was still roaming the woods looking for her next unsuspecting victim.

  The sight of his mother that night would be etched in Joshua's mind forever. The dark circles around her eyes contrasted with her too white skin. It was painfully obvious that she rarely saw the sun anymore, as her days and nights were spent in the darkened room, sitting quietly beside her beloved husband, praying for a miracle.

  Jeremiah was a proud man and Joshua knew his mother worried that his father would no longer have the desire or will to live. A small glimmer of hope had shone in her lifeless green eyes when her son walked into the room. A hope that the responsibilities of running a cotton plantation the size of Sea Grove, with over 1200 slaves, could be lifted from her weary shoulders, and she could devote her time and energy to making her husband somehow see that life was worth living again. She hadn’t found it necessary to ask for Joshua’s help. He was there when she needed him most.

  It had been impossible for Joshua not to return to sea after the Christmas holiday, having several binding commitments that had to be fulfilled. However, he had not departed until he had employed Jake Almond, a man he trusted implicitly, to oversee the plantation until he could return in the spring.

  “Land ho!” The first mate shouted from the crow's nest, bringing Joshua back to the present.

  He looked out across the graceful, rolling swells to see the barely visible landmarks of Charleston in the early morning fog. He could just make out Saint Michael's steeple towering majestically over the waking city. They would be docking in a few hours, and after battening down his ship for a much-needed rest, he would bid farewell to the Windjammer, and go home.

  After thanking each man personally for his years of loyalty and faithful service, Joshua strode below deck to his cabin to pack. Memories flooded him as his eyes fell on souvenir pieces from various countries. Finely detailed jade and bone figures stood alongside miniature sculptures of ivory and glass boasting exquisite craftsmanship from China. Ornate gilt figurines and intricately designed pottery reminded him of his many trips to India. Precision and clarity were evident in the hand-cut crystal purchased in England. It was a priceless collection, one he had spent years assembling.

  He gently lifted the teakwood box, which contained his most treasured possession, Lynna's locket. The locket contained a likeness of her mother that had been lost under his bed during their one and only night of passion. Looking at it was akin to looking at Lynna herself, since both women possessed the same unique beauty. Joshua held the tiny locket close to his heart, remembering the tiny wisp of a girl who had stolen his heart some three years earlier and still remained in firm possession of it.

  No one since, and there had been many in his effort to banish her from his mind forever, had come close to loosing the passion the little lady had stirred in him. He returned the locket carefully to its box and stored it with the other treasures in his sea trunk. Now these pieces would serve as his only link with his past. Forcing his mind to concentrate on the business at hand, he quickly completed his packing and left the ship.

  Nothing had changed. The Battery was still a noisy beehive of activity, with ships loading and unloading their cargo, peddlers hawking their wares, and drunken sailors returning to their ships after a night on the town. To Joshua's well-traveled eyes, Charleston was still the most beautiful city on earth. He had found nothing in his journeys to rival the stately mansions, picturesque homes and colorful gardens. Charleston's beauty and grace was unequaled.

  Joshua steered his horse along the cool shade of Church Street. The towering oaks and magnolias stood alongside stately palmetto trees, their leaves swaying softly in the gentle breeze that blew inland over the Cooper River. Tiny sparks of sunlight filtered through the trees, dancing a mottled pattern around him as the rustling leaves blocked the sun’s rays for a short time before shooting through in a burst of gold when the leaves again parted. Passing by the house at 59 Church Street, he smiled to himself, remembering how his father would frighten him
with tales of the haunted house, where a husband had killed his beautiful wife in a fit of jealous rage.

  Laughing out loud, he suddenly realized he had unconsciously nudged his horse forward, as he had done so many times in his youth. He turned onto Queen Street, known for its excellent cabinetmakers’ shops, most notably, Thomas Elfe, whose miniature house and workshop brought many curious onlookers to view his work. Joshua picked up the pace, eager to reach his destination.

  The loud clip clop of horse’s hooves could be heard as he steered the steed down cobblestoned Chalmers Street. The cobblestones had been brought to Charleston as ballasts on English ships and then unloaded and replaced with cargos of indigo, rice or cotton. A wide grin split his rugged features as he thought back over the many memorable evenings spent in this area, in what the more religious sect called the houses of ill repute, or Mulatto Alley. He passed by the Pirate's House, a tavern heavily frequented by pirates and other disreputable characters. These men would down their grog before taking the girl of their choice upstairs to help them forget the long, lonely nights to come onboard a ship without the benefit of female companionship.

  Joshua had no desire to mingle with that motley group of cutthroats, nor pay for the services of the disease-ridden unfortunate young women who called the tavern home. There was only one person on this street he claimed an association with. Urging his horse to a gallop, his green eyes twinkled and his lips curved into a smile of anticipation as he halted in front of one of Charleston's most imposing mansions. With its four-columned porticos, elaborate wrought-iron balconies and balustrades, it more resembled the home of a wealthy planter than the cherished residence of one of the town’s most famous madams.

  An exquisite little maid of undetermined origin opened the door to Joshua's persistent knock, beaming brightly upon first sight of the extraordinarily handsome man before her.