by Howe, Cheryl
Drew longed for the persona of Lord Christian to disappear. If he had a choice, he’d be free of this place, chasing the tail of the moon across the water. His role as the wayward youngest son of an English duke had lost its ironic appeal.
Unfortunately, the character he’d created to account for the goods he’d been stealing rather than importing from England saved his bloody neck at the moment.
Drew shrugged. “All that business with my partner’s murder put a damper on my social schedule. I didn’t want to be the center of another scandal before poor Richard’s ashes cooled.”
“You’re concerned over social improprieties? I thought you thrived on scandal.” Samantha’s hands rested on her hips in a mock display of temper.
He suspected she orchestrated the position to allow him a better view of her plunging décolletage. He feared if she moved too quickly her entire nipple would be in plain view, but knowing Samantha, that was her intention.
Turning away from the ocean, he leaned against the stone wall surrounding the terrace. It would be an easy thing for him to escape this party and follow the hidden trail that led from the plantation to the beach. He no doubt knew the house and lands better than its current owners. Revealing he’d spent his youth toiling away on this very plantation would almost be worth the look of horror on Sam’s face.
Drew forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out again. To even consider such thoughts at a time like this warned he was slipping. When a warm breeze caressed his thigh instead of Samantha’s overheated hand, Drew tried to relax.
“Things have changed. I’m not the man I used to be.”
Sam placed her palm on the front of his sedate brown jacket and began again her slow exploration of his body. This time she paced herself, veering her hand up toward his shoulder in correction of her earlier indiscretion. “I see this new somberness extends to your wardrobe, too. I hope you’re still the same decadent man in bed. I’d be eternally heartbroken if that changed. This godforsaken island would be unbearable without my little amusements.”
Staring up at the fat three-quarter moon allowed him to avoid her heavily painted face. Funny, he couldn’t recall why he’d ever found her remotely attractive.
Bedding the mistress of the plantation where he’d been an indentured servant represented a twisted sort of justice, he supposed. The change in proprietorship hadn’t mattered. Now he could consider himself truly equal to those he mocked. The sudden realization ruined any satisfaction he’d gained from his licentious affair with Samantha Linley.
She balled his velvet lapel in her clenched fist. “Who is she?”
Movement from the doorway caught Drew’s attention. Felicity Kendall appeared on the edge of the terrace, light spilling from behind her. Shadows hid her face, but he recognized the erect posture of an avenging angel.
He could only guess how much she’d witnessed. No matter. He was certain she’d already formed an opinion and waited anxiously to flog him with it. Maybe that jolt of attraction which had kept him awake these last few nights had been nothing more than a much needed antidote to the sameness he’d begun to find in every woman he met, or perhaps it was something more. As disastrous as it would be, he longed for something more.
Samantha followed his gaze, then quickly put a respectable distance between them. Felicity charged in their direction, and Drew acknowledged the real reason he’d accepted the Linleys’ invitation. He’d wanted to see this woman again.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d treated him like a common criminal. True as it was, he didn’t like it. Nor did he like the behavior to which she reduced him. Treating the gentler sex gently was one of the few moral codes he still honored. He’d always been able to charm them into anything—from goodwill to bed. Even if he wouldn’t follow through with the act, he wanted Felicity—as well as himself—to know he could have her at any time.
Philip Linley and Ben followed Felicity through the open terrace doors. Drew stood away from the waist-high wall, bracing himself for the confrontation to come.
“There’s my lovely wife.” Philip’s tight smile failed to reach his eyes. “I was just giving Miss Kendall a tour of our home.”
Everyone exchanged stiff greetings except for Ben, who was incapable of being anything other than friendly. Felicity refused to speak. She acknowledged her introduction to Samantha Linley with a curt nod. Drew received no such courtesy, just a fiery glare.
In light of Felicity’s witness to the spectacle with Samantha, he’d wasted his effort in toning down Lord Christian’s flamboyant wardrobe. And Felicity would never be charmed by his notorious good looks alone, no matter how he packaged himself. She behaved unlike any woman he had ever come across. He wouldn’t forget that again.
Cool suffocating silence settled over the small gathering like a blanket of snow. Samantha cracked under the strain first. She excused herself and gracefully retreated.
“Benjamin, how about a nip of rum before dinner? It makes the food easier to digest,” suggested Philip.
Ben nodded. “Felicity, come along and I’ll find you a fan and a cool place to sit. You look flushed.”
“I’d rather stay out here. The breeze seems to lighten the air.”
Ben’s gaze bounced between Drew and Felicity. It appeared he didn’t want to leave them alone. Not that Drew could blame him. “Lord Christian, care to join us?”
“No. Thank you.”
Linley’s pinched features relaxed. Ben, on the other hand, yanked his fingers through his remaining tufts of hair. He leaned toward Felicity. “Remember your promise.”
Felicity nodded, but her dusky inferno of a gaze never left Drew.
With one last backward glance, Ben disappeared into the buzzing houseful of guests along with Philip Linley.
***
“You are even more despicable than I imagined! That woman is our host’s wife,” snapped Felicity the moment the tall French doors closed.
“May I say you look lovely tonight, Miss Kendall? Black suits you.”
“Don’t mock me. I’m not taken with your presence, as is Mistress Linley. I see you for the snake you are.”
Felicity laced her fingers in front of her to keep from self-consciously smoothing her drab skirts. That there would be a complete absence of Puritan modesty on the island was something she hadn’t anticipated. She wore the identical garment she’d had on at their first meeting. Not even a trace of embroidery adorned her plain white collar. For the first time since she’d wholeheartedly embraced the protective armor of her mother’s religion, she experienced a new emotion…shame? She felt as if she should be serving the guests rather than being one of them.
He lounged against the stone railing, smiling at her taunt. “Yet you didn’t heed my warning or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes. The snakes are poisonous. I remember from our last meeting. You’ve no need to worry. I don’t intend to get close enough to feel your bite. The only reason I’m here is because my father insisted. Word of my arrival spread over the island and Master Linley wanted to meet me.
“I meant out here. Alone with me. Maybe you’re jealous.”
She choked on her anger, having to gasp for breath before she could speak. “Your immoral habits are no concern of mine, except when they involve my father. Seducing the wife of a man you trade with is not the act of a gentleman. I refuse to stand by while you taint my father’s good name.”
A couple dressed in shades of lime green and flame orange strolled out onto the terrace. They paused against the railing a few yards away. Though they entwined their bewigged heads in an intimate conversation, their presence was as loud and unsettling as the cries of the vibrant-colored parrots that inhabited the island.
Drew’s glance casually swept over the couple before resting on Felicity again. “Since you’ve taken it upon yourself to chastise me for all my shortcomings, I suggest you move closer. We wouldn’t want to scare the other guests with your shrill lecture.”
&n
bsp; She inched toward the wall, where he draped himself like a sultan awaiting his every whim to be fulfilled. Pretending to admire the sea saved her from looking at him. His appeal as a man agitated her as much as his arrogant nature. She once again clasped her hands to stop their slight tremble, refusing to let him know he unnerved her. To calm herself, she tried to slow her rapid breathing to the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping against the beach below.
He straightened, then made a great show of trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “What did you promise your father?”
Felicity ignored his efforts. “To behave.”
“I make you misbehave? Mmm, I like that.” His tone assured her a wicked smile still tugged at his mouth.
She turned to him, her arms wrapped protectively in front of her. “The only thing you do is disgust me. My father was referring to any comments I might make about the Linleys’ slaves. I abhor slavery, as any God-fearing soul should.”
“That leaves me out.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
His grin showed he found her denunciation of his character amusing. “You’ve also thrown every white inhabitant of Barbados among the soulless. You won’t be popular.”
“I know that. I don’t want my father’s interests hurt, but slavery’s not right. Our own Samuel Sewall, a prominent Puritan,” she added, sure he had no knowledge of her faith’s great scholars, “published a pamphlet on the inherent sinfulness of slavery. Perhaps I should locate a copy for you.”
“Oh, do.” He leaned in closer, and she suspected he was testing to see if she would move away. “I must say, I’m relieved to know you have another monster to slay besides me.”
She tilted her chin to meet his gaze. When she’d walked out on the terrace, she’d been surprised by his dress and she’d checked his footwear long enough to see he didn’t wear high heels. “You shall be my first. I’ve made you a priority.”
“Then move closer and let’s get on with it. I promise not to sink my fangs in your soft white skin.”
To prove to him that she could, she closed the distance between them until they were as close as the lovers on the opposite end of the terrace. Her promise to her father had included avoiding an incident with Drew as well as espousing her opinions on slavery. The aristocrat’s behavior with Mistress Linley proved he relished public spectacles, and she’d not give him another one by scolding him in front of the other guests.
“Don’t waste your time saving Samantha.” When he spoke, she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “I’ve already seduced her. You can move on to the next of my sins.”
“As you have, I’ve no doubt.” She wanted to flinch at his callousness but refused to show any signs his words disturbed her beyond anger. “I find your behavior cruel and despicable. Do you think of women only in terms of seduction?”
“Usually, but since you’re Ben’s daughter I was going to let you go unravished. Unless you’d rather I not. If that’s the case, you should call me Christian.”
“I certainly will not call you by that name. It’s blasphemous. Your mother must regret choosing something so inappropriate.”
The masculine scent of musk and brandy battled the strangling smell of roses. His choice of cologne didn’t disguise his smoldering aggression any better than his velvet suit.
“ ‘Felicity,’ ” he said. “I believe that means great happiness. From what I know of you, your name doesn’t seem to fit you either.”
She stared at the shadowed waves disturbing the black surface of the sea, refusing to let him know how close his jabs came to the truth. He must be the devil himself to be so handsome, yet possess such an ungodly soul.
“I didn’t stay out here to trade insults with you,” she countered. “I came to warn you. I’ve discovered your secret.” Her bluff aimed at penetrating his armor as his teasing did hers. His silence gave her the courage to turn and look at him.
He studied her openly. “I love secrets. Tell me what you think mine is.”
Unfortunately, she’d discovered nothing amiss in the records of the New England Trading Company. According to her father, Lord Christian’s family influence in England had saved the small company from bankruptcy. Everyone knew that without a champion in the right circles, gaining a royal charter to trade was impossible. And without a charter, one would be considered no more than a common criminal—or worse, a pirate.
The figures confirmed that the beleaguered New England Trading Company was finally in the black, but Felicity speculated on the method. Her instincts told her Christian Andrews was not the son of a duke, much less an honest merchant. The thought that her father might have unwittingly become a front for someone’s illicit activities forced Felicity’s hand. She latched on to the one curious notation in the ledgers.
“General goods.” she said and waited for his reaction.
He grinned. “Shocking.”
“There’s more.” When the smirk spread to his eyes, she grew more determined to wipe it from his face. Her suspicions were vague and unsubstantiated, but she had no other clue.
“Go on, Felicity. Tell me what goes on inside that head of yours.”
“Master Marley meticulously recorded all the exports from the island. Only the imports are marked general goods.
Whatever the items are, they bring more money than even sugar.”
The amused sparkle in his eyes dulled, but he still showed his teeth. “Providing valuable merchandise isn’t a sin. The transplanted English like their luxury goods, and sugar gives them money to buy whatever they desire.”
“Whether or not it’s a sin depends on what those goods are and where they came from.”
His smile faded. “I have nothing to do with the ledgers. Marley labeled the merchandise as he saw fit.”
His reaction turned Felicity’s speculation into certainty. “No? But I believe we both know what ‘general goods’ is politely hiding.”
The cool mask he wore on their first meeting returned. He would reveal nothing else until provoked.
She sensed her tactic’s success and guessed wildly. “Slavery.”
“What?” He moved away from the wall.
“I believe you’re dealing in slaves and using ‘general goods’ to hide your horrid deeds from my father.”
Her confidence sagged with his laughter. “I see. I am evil...and clever, too. Did I fool Marley, or was he involved as well?”
“I don’t know the details.”
“Have you told Ben of your discovery?”
“No, and I don’t want you to say anything to him. Knowing that his ships promoted slavery would hurt him deeply. I’ll be satisfied if you leave Barbados and never bother my father again.”
“Slavery is not illegal.”
“It should be. It’s immoral, and immorality is something at which you excel. My guess is, you’re an expert at using other human beings for your own self-interests.”
All traces of humor evaporated from his face. “Why do you hate me?” he asked.
“Because you’re manipulating my father. You’re hiding behind your fancy clothes and powdered wig. I don’t know why, but I’ll find out.”
“And what are you hiding from? You have a luscious mouth, but all you use it for is to screech like a shrew. Unbind your hair and smile, and you could be beautiful. Why aren’t you married? Would none of your Puritan men let you be on top? I would.”
She suspected he wanted to shock her, but his lusty innuendo was nothing but a cruel quip at her expense. “I prefer men who smell less like a rosebush and more like a man. You can stop trying to sway me with your sexual prowess. I find you revolting. Leave Barbados before I expose you for the fraud you are.”
When she turned to leave, he grabbed her elbow.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Felicity. Someone has taken a dislike to the owners of the New England Trading Company. If I don’t discover the identity of Marley’s killer, who knows who might be next?”
She yanked her arm away, but
instead of leaving, she stood toe-to-toe with him. “Are you threatening me?”
He squared his shoulders like a bull ready to charge. “I’m stating a fact.”
“The Linleys’ guests seem to think a pirate called El Diablo killed Marley and his wife. Perhaps you’ve come to another conclusion because you were involved in the murders.” As she said the words, something inside her shifted as she realized she hoped with all her heart and soul it wasn’t true.
The sharp angles of his jaw became more pronounced as he ground his teeth. “It’s stupid to make accusations you can’t substantiate.”
They stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, he shook his head and turned away.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I don’t want to see Ben hurt either. If you’re so intent on using your keen mind to castrate me, go ahead. Just think before you do something that will cause your father any more grief.” He bowed over the railing. “Go inside, Felicity, before you make me do something else I’ll regret.”
She uncurled her fists and caught her breath. Of all the commandments, murder remained the only one she had not suspected him of breaking. The same instinct that assured her he was a fraud kept her from believing him a cold-blooded killer. She’d not leave until she knew for sure.
“I have to calm down first. My father will know I’ve been arguing with you, and he made me promise not to.”
Drew chuckled, but his laugh rang hollow. “How did mild-mannered Ben Kendall wind up with a daughter like you?”
She edged beside him and flattened her palms on the cool stone railing. The way he stared out at the sea seemed to relax him. She would be wise to keep him off guard until she found the answers she wanted.
“I’ve always had a mind of my own, if that’s what you’re referring to. It didn’t bother my mother and father—though the congregation of our church had quite a lot to say about it. They wanted my parents to break my spirit, with force if necessary. As you know, force doesn’t work.”