“I am here for dinner every night,” Anne supplied defensively.
“Well, that is wonderful, isn't it? You have one meal with me in which you never say a word directly to me and I am supposed to be happy?”
“You and I both know that this arrangement has never been about our happiness,” she said quietly.
The statement punched him in the gut. He wanted to put his hands on her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted...just to get to know her, dammit!
Alex sighed, “Anne, we are to be wed, like it or not. Now, you have two choices. You can hate me forever for one mistake or you can get to know me and find I am not such a bad man after all. Who knows, you might start to like me. For the sake of a peaceful marriage, I urge you to consider the latter very carefully.”
Anne didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. Anger burst forth from her and she felt the urge to let it out. With all the ice in her veins she could muster she told him where he could put those sentiments. And she walked out, leaving him dumbfounded and frustrated as hell.
Alex was determined to capture and keep Anne's interest. Maybe he could change her mind about him. Maybe he wouldn't have to be alone in his desires.
******
That afternoon, Anne sought solace in the beautiful waterfall near the house. It was private enough that she could swim naked without fear of being discovered. She found the suggestion sinful at first, then she acquiesced. Jack was right; it was hot here and the less clothes one wore, the more comfortable they would be. There was no shame in cooling off in the water.
Alex had told her that her mother and sister would probably arrive arrive soon but that didn't improve her mood. She had missed Janey but not her mother. Oh, alright, she had missed her mother but she had been enjoying the silence. It was Alex that bothered her. She saw the way he had changed since they had been here and it made her want to get to know him. And that thought scared her. The passionate kiss they shared in London had stirred something within her. If she got too close, she could fall in love with him. Wanting him and loving him were two different things, weren't they? Almost putting her heart on the line had been a foolish move. All she could do now was to keep her emotional distance.
Diving back under the water, Anne stroked her way to the other side, under the waterfall. She soaped her hair and let the rushing water wash it away. Reluctantly, she decided it was time to get out. Maybe five more minutes? She had discovered she loved the water and usually stayed in it too long. Her private privy with the bathtub didn't please her as much as this haven did. Anne turned around and lay on top of the pool. With her ears under the water, she couldn't hear a thing. She just lay there, floating, staring up at the hazy blue sky, losing herself in the muffled roar of the waterfall.
While Anne was swimming, Alex was watching unnoticed from his bedchamber balcony. She was exquisite. Ethereal; the way she floated in the water. He had been observing her from afar constantly, struggling with his lust. What was he to do with all these feelings? He was not sure what they meant. Mostly he felt hopeless. She had some sort of hold on him he could not define or escape while she kept him at arms' length. He supposed that was what made him ache for her. Pain lingered in his stomach. And his heart.
Needing distraction, he rode over to the fishing village on some invisible errand. He wanted to buy fish for dinner and it seemed like something he should do. Never mind that Mrs. Bainbridge would have ensured the stores were full or that the cook and an appointed maid went to gather needed foodstuffs. He wanted something different served and he wanted to pick it out. It was his dinner, after all.
So he went and picked his fish; a nice large swordfish and a good bit of fresh grouper. He loved grouper and he missed it when he was in London. He grew tired of kippers and salt fish. His love of fresh fish was definitely a product of his globe trotting.
Task done, he headed back to the main house, stopping in the kitchen to set the fish down. When he returned to his bedchamber, Anne was mercifully gone from the waterfall.
********
After her bath, Anne went to rest in her room before dinner. She heard a knock on the door and crossed the room to answer it. Alex stood there, looking handsome in his shirtsleeves and light-colored waistcoat. He never seemed to bother with his cutaway coat on the island. She supposed it was because of the incessant heat.
She invited him in; dressed simply as she was in a wrapper, her wet hair slicked back and pulled over her left shoulder. Motioning to him to sit in the comfortable chairs in her sitting area, he obliged, taking the seat nearest to them.
“What time would you care to eat dinner?”
“Eight, as usual,” Anne replied.
“I will let Mrs. Bainbridge know,” he coughed, “Anne...about his morning...I just want to have a peaceful union, you do understand that?”
She nodded.
“I know this isn't a love match and I know that you are very angry at me for my accusations. But it's been over two months. Don't you think I deserve more than your indifference?”
Anne sat, legs tucked under her, head propped on her chin, thumbnail in mouth. She pondered this request.
Shrugging, she agreed.
He smiled, “Excellent. Why don't we ride out tomorrow and have a picnic?”
Nodding her head, she wondered just how she was going to survive this marriage. He was too persistently nice for his own good.
CHAPTER TEN
“I returned England to get my affairs in order. I was going to give it all up for her. My love for her was greater than anything.”
Jack returned late that night and Anne ate breakfast with him the next morning.
“You're awfully quiet this morning,” Jack observed, sipping his tea.
“Mmm,” Anne mumbled noncommittally, pushing her eggs around her plate. Alex had given her lots to think about. Tossing and turning all night had not brought any solace for her cracked heart.
“Anne, is something wrong?”
“Jack, tell me honestly, is love worth the pain?”
“No,” he stated soberly.
“Thanks,” Anne answered woefully.
“Well, Anne, you know why I think so. And just because it didn't work for me doesn't mean it won't work for you.”
“Then why does it hurt so much?”
“Well, it wouldn't be worth it if it didn't.”
“Ah, spare me the platitudes” she threw back at him. She needed some solid advice right now and Jack wasn't the way to go on this one.
The two spoke on it no more and Anne's insides churned with the thought of getting to know her future husband. It scared her like nothing else had scared her before.
Jack lightened the mood by regaling her with stories from his youth. Anne forgot Alex for a while and enjoyed the laughter prompted by her new friend.
*****
Alex noticed that Anne and Jack spent a lot of time together. And this bothered him very much. Every time he saw them together, he wanted to punch Jack. Holding his temper in check, he walked away each time more frustrated than the last. Now they were laughing together over breakfast. He wished he could be in Jack's seat, making Anne's head tilt back in amusement. He could see the joy in her eyes and yearned to be the cause. They always seemed to have a good time together. But he knew Jack was her fiance, he was. And he would see to it that she would be a more affable wife. It boosted his ego just a bit to remember the way she had responded when he kissed her. The lines had blurred pleasurably and he had lost himself. Out here, he could no longer pretend that all their kisses hadn't meant something. He could no longer pretend her indifference didn't matter. He wanted her melting like he was.
Seeing her this morning with Jack forced him back into reality. Now all he could think of was Anne and how cold she was.
Life had been so much easier when his father and brother were here. Since the war, Alex had little peace. He could not deny that his father's death had tilted his world, but the safety barriers had come crashing down around h
im when his brother died. Then he was forced to take a title he never expected to have. He knew how to take care of people; his plantation was proof of that. But a titled lord? He could never live up to his father and brother's legacy. And there was the question of his birth. His status as a bastard still bothered him. He knew it made little difference here, so he hid in the Caribbean and prayed that no one would care about him out here.
Alex noticed Anne and Jack get up from the table and he quickly moved along. He did not want to see either one of them this morning. He watched Anne walk back into the house and, once she was gone, saw Jack light up a cheroot. Alex was too slow in getting away, as Jack spotted him immediately. He put out his cheroot and jogged down the back steps and up to Alex as he was headed down the beach.
“Alex,” Jackson called to him as he neared.
Alex kept walking down the beach, even though he heard Jack clearly. Jack caught up easily and told him to hold up.
“Jack, I have little time. Is this important?”
“Yes, this is very important,” Jack said so seriously it gave Alex pause.
“Alright, what is it?”
“Anne.”
“What about her,” Alex asked impatiently.
“I think you should spend some time with her,” Jack suggested.
“I've tried. In fact, I have coaxed her to go on a picnic this afternoon,” Alex argued.
“There is something about her, I can't quite put my finger on. She's....scared, I think.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
“Me?” Alex was incredulous. What was so scary about him?
“She is far from home and doesn't know you well enough. And since you two are to be married, I think it would be a good idea to get to know her.”
“Jack, I have tried,” Alex began to whine, then thought better of it. No one wants to hear a grown up whine.
“Jack,” Alex started again, this time more rationally, “I am trying. She completely ignores me.”
“Maybe a more conventional romantic approach? Flowers, things like that?”
“Don't know. It's been a long time since....Louisa...” Alex finished on a sigh.
His friend gave him a sympathetic look, squeezed his shoulder, and returned to the house.
********
One hour later, Alex rapped on Anne's bedchamber door to alert her that the horses were ready. His shirt hung open at the collar, his shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbow. No jacket, no waistcoat, no cravat. Just bronzed muscle bulging at the forearm; smooth skin at his neck. She held her breath, thinking that he got more handsome every time she looked at him.
Unwilling to let him see her displeasure at this forced outing, Anne smiled brightly and took his outstretched arm enthusiastically. Maybe too enthusiastically. Alex smiled an uncertain smile at her and they strolled to the front of the house. Attending the horses were two men whose age Anne could not guess. They were young looking in their facial features, however, they were very tall and very muscular. Their dark African skin gave them away as slaves. Another reason to hate him.
“Good morning, William. Good morning, Stephen,” Alex called to the gentlemen.
“Good morning, Mr. Montgomery,” they nodded in return with smiles. Anne could see they respected and loved their master. How odd. How can you love your owner?
Mounting their horses, Alex and Anne set off at a leisurely pace, meandering through the plantation. Alex pointed out things here and there. Right now there was not much to see, as they were riding between open fields of sugar cane.
Anne had been falling slightly behind Alex and she quickly cantered up to him to ask him a question.
“Alex, I wonder if I may inquire as to William and Stephen?”
Alex looked puzzled.
“What I mean to say is that I am surprised that you own slaves.”
“I do not. Every man or woman who works for me is paid for their work. I do not expect any man to work for my leisure,” he gave her a pointed look.
“I did buy William and Stephen but I freed them as soon as I purchased them,” he continued, “I asked that they work for me, as they both have a fair hand with horses. Stephen has been here for six years and William has been here two. When Stephen told me he needed a hand in the stables, I asked his help in finding someone and he told me about William,” Alex finished.
“How did he know about William?” Anne asked.
Alex shrugged as if shaking off a bad memory. “William was a slave working on a plantation on a nearby island. The man who owns the plantation is cruel. William was just a boy when he came to work there.” Alex stared off in space, unable to fathom the cruelty of the world.
It must have been a painful memory for Alex, because he did not finish. Anne stared at him, prompting him to continue. Finally, he shrugged again and simply said, “Well, I bought him two years ago to help him get away from there. Best decision I ever made,” he smiled at her and shook off the cobwebs of his mind.
For the next ten minutes it was quiet. Then they passed an area with burned stone littering the otherwise green hillside.
Alex pointed to it, drawing Anne's attention. “That was my original mill. It was burned. It was too small, anyway. Our new one is much bigger. It is just up ahead,” he told her, nodding in front of him and urging his horse into a faster cant. Anne kept up with him, almost pulling ahead at times.
When they reached the new mill, Anne looked it up and down. It was a tall cylinder with a windmill on top.
“What's the windmill for?” she asked him.
“To squeeze the juice out of the cane,” he told her. Then, he continued, “we used horses in the old mill. When I found out the Dutch used the windmills and that it was a faster method, I decided to try it. Here, let me show you,” he said as he dismounted.
Alex put his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him and down to the ground. She was instantly reminded of their ride in Hyde Park. It seemed years ago now. And yet, it was merely months ago. Alex was thinking the same thing, but it was Anne who brought it up.
“You seem a little different out here than you did in London,” she remarked; moving away from him and pacing towards the mill.
“How so?” He really wanted to know what she was thinking; it would be another piece of the puzzle he could put together.
Shrugging, Anne thought for a minute. “You just seem...happier.”
As if realizing they were actually having a friendly conversation, Anne's eyes iced over and he felt her pull away.
“I can never figure out what is going on behind those eyes of yours, Anne. I see you reaching out to me then pulling away. Was my sin so grievous or do you have other reasons for your coldness?”
“I do not know what you mean,” she shook her head and turned away from him.
He didn't want to argue right now. He just wanted to hold her and kiss her. Since kissing her did not seem to be a good option, he decided to try a different approach.
“I think you do. I don't think you are still angry with me for my accusations. So why don't we just put this old argument to rest?”
“Who's arguing?”
“Oh, that's right,” he replied sarcastically, “you don't even want to see me or talk to me. So, we are not still having the same fight?”
“We are not fighting. I just....don't want to...” fall in love with you.
The unspoken words hung between them.
“Now, come here, I want to show you how this works,” he said in a cheerful but strangled voice. Anne was eternally grateful for the change in subject.
He took her hand and they walked through a stone corridor that echoed their movements and words. He was explaining how the juice was extracted from the cane and how it is processed to make raw sugar. He also told her how the raw sugar becomes the sugar that is used on their table and how the raw sugar is also made into molasses.
They walked along and he talked on and on about the plantation and how much sugar they turn ou
t per year. He was very proud of this accomplishment. Anne found she liked this about him then cursed herself for thinking foolish thoughts.
After he had her try sugar from the cane, raw sugar, molasses, and the refined sugar, Alex made Anne taste the rum.
It burned her throat, her nostrils, even her ears. She coughed for a good minute while he laughed at her, finally conceding rum was not the drink for her.
About noontime, they returned to the house for luncheon. He pointed out the grist mill on their way and the huts the workers lived in.
“My, you really are self-sufficient here, aren't you?” she breathed in wonder.
He nodded with pride. He was pleased with himself; with his plantation.
Upon arrival, William handed Alex the basket from Mrs. Bainbridge and they wheeled away to find a spot for their picnic. He thanked William as they set off for the beach.
When they were settled on the blanket, Anne picked through the basket. Cheese, biscuits, ham, hard boiled eggs, and a bottle of claret. They were both starving, so they attacked their food without talking. As they were finishing their delicious lunch, Anne thought about William again.
“Why do your servants address you as 'Mr. Montgomery' and not 'Master' or 'My lord'?”
“I asked them to call me 'Mr. Montgomery.' I wasn't an earl when I started this plantation. I was 'Mr. Montgomery.' I despise the term 'master'. The implications of it disgust me,” he explained.
“You never told me what happened to William,” she prompted, trying to keep up some sort of conversation.
“He was ill treated by his owner. I do not wish to divulge the details to you. It is extremely unpleasant,” he protested.
“Ah,” was all that she could think to say. Ladies were never exposed to the unpleasantness of this world. Although she wanted to expand her horizons, she wasn't sure she was ready for some of the harsher realities of life.
“Enough of this gloomy conversation,” he insisted. He filled their glasses for the third time and Anne was begin to feel light-headed from the alcohol. Despite that, she obligingly took the offered drink.
Behind Your Eyes Page 8