Siren's Song

by Trish Albright

  Joshua nodded, accepting the answer, wondering how this man had dealt with his wife’s death. How he would deal with his daughter’s future. “This prophecy. Do you think it’s her destiny?”

  Robert turned back to the sea. “Alex will have to decide that. I can tell you one thing. She’ll always be the one stepping out in front to save others, fighting for what she deems the good fight.” He sighed, as if pained by it, before warning him. “So, if it’s the destiny you choose, enjoy the days you have.”

  Alex, didn’t see anything for a long time. She knew there was pain, but she expected that. There was pain in hell. When she saw the light, it was a surprise. It was beautiful. That’s when the dreams came, vivid and sure. Visions of things she was yet to do. The faces of women she was yet to meet. The voices around her spoke of love. It was comforting. And a little confusing. Then she was struggling. Against an impossible weight. Her body was stiff and immobile. Her eyes heavy. It hurt to breathe. But she did. And it felt like her greatest triumph.

  Eyes opened. She stared unblinking. “You’re still here.” Her voice worked. It sounded raspy but it was hers.

  “Yes.”

  He answered back. Maybe this was not a dream. “I’m not dead?”

  “No.”

  She hesitated before the next question. “You’re not dead either?”

  He shook his head to emphasize. “No. I’m not dead either.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m glad.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  She smiled. Or thought she did. Every muscle hurt. She was laying on her side, a sheet covering her loosely. “Papa.” She tried to reach out. Instead he came to her, listening to her struggled speech. “I had the map. In Morocco. Birdie saved it. It was woven into a tapestry.”

  “So, you’ve been chasing the prophecy, then?”

  She shook head. “It’s been chasing me.” She touched the back of her neck, surprised the arm actually worked. “It caught up.”

  “Guess we should have armed you a bit more.”

  “I should have told you everything.”

  “I would have gone after Paxton anyway, Allie. It wouldn’t have mattered.”

  She still had doubts. “What happened?”

  “We both got caught in the storm, and I lost him for awhile. My ship had some damage, but we were seaworthy, and I managed to track him to Brazil. Unfortunately, that’s an area friendlier to slave traders than abolitionists. He framed me for helping some slaves. I’ve been in prison until a few months ago. Tried to get home as quick as I could, only to find everyone gone. No surprise there, I guess.”

  She vaguely remembered being found. “The ship you have now … the crew—”

  He gave her a half grin. “I served the time. Figured I ought to do the crime. We intercepted one of the Stafford Line out of Portsmouth and learned of your kidnapping. I followed to Morocco and chased Sea Fire when I realized something wasn’t right.”

  “I blew it to smithereens.”

  “That, you did. Very effectively, daughter.”

  “I couldn’t let Paxton and his crew hurt Emma. I knew—” She shook her head not wanting to remember the past, then remembered her lost friends. “Emma! Birdie!”

  “They’re okay,” he reassured. “Ilu too. You had to make that decision. Don’t look back.”

  “But, Papa?” She put her hand out to him, and he held it companionably, comforting.

  “Yes?”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Ah.” He slanted his head, curiously. “Did you think you got all your seafaring powers from your mother then?”

  She smiled. “Only the strange ones.”

  “I see.” His chest rumbled with humor. “You were easy to track, daughter. Same as when you were a child,” he enlightened. “I followed your song.” Then he looked over her shoulder. “But I think the duke might have a different story.” Her father pecked her forehead and excused himself with a faint smile. “I’ll get Matthew and tell him you’re awake.”

  Her father left, and Alex struggled to sit up. Joshua told her to stay and gave her some water before easing down next to her to make talking less difficult. Every move he made was careful so as not to disturb her. Though talking was not what he started with.

  He kissed her forehead, his lips brushing tantalizingly over one brow. She lifted her good hand to cup his jaw, stroking several days of growth covering his face. He bent lower so his cheek could slide against hers, the soft whiskers tickling her skin, prickling her senses back to life.

  “I missed you,” she said, releasing a sigh.

  “You haven’t been acting like it.”

  She moved to kiss his lips and he permitted only the lightest of touches, his thumb following after, to explore with painstaking gentleness, as if she might break.

  “I was sleeping,” she chastised, softly. “I can hardly be enticing you every minute of the day.”

  His chest rumbled and his hard jaw transformed into a rueful smile before he lightly tapped his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she promised. “As long as you still love me.” His fingers teased the hairs at the back of her neck, making her want things she knew her body wasn’t capable of doing … yet. He didn’t reply so she added, “I understand if you’re a little mad about the ship …”

  He raised a brow.

  “But you said you would love me even if you were mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad about the ship.” He pecked her forehead. “Trust me. There are so many other things to be mad about.”

  “I still love you,” she shared. Still, no response. “Joshua—”

  “Alex,” he cut her off. “I love you.” He kissed her brow, her cheek, her lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  “I know.”

  He laughed. Finally. It was the one thing that reassured her. She held his sparkling blue eyes with her own. They were bloodshot and weary. Her hand went to his cheek again to comfort. He covered it gratefully with his own then turned his face to press a kiss to her palm, before lowering it between their hearts.

  “There’s just one more thing … my love. My darling.” She tried out the endearments he seemed fond of, hoping he knew he could tell her anything. That whatever had happened to him, he would know she was there to comfort him. And no matter what he had done, she would still love him.

  Having softened him with words and kisses, she finally said what was on her mind. “You look terrible. What happened?”

  The weeks that followed were idyllic and would be looked back on by all as a perfect time in their lives. The ships and all their crews settled in at Las Palmas for the duration of Alex’s recovery. Days were spent watching the men compete in games on the beach—Koto’s team regularly trouncing Mick’s smaller sailors in all games requiring strength. Her father would be returning all of Koto’s people to Africa who wanted to go. The rest would continue on the ship, or take jobs back at the shipyard in Boston. Stephen would join their father on that trip. He looked forward to it before starting Harvard and continuing his studies as all the Stafford men had.

  Meals were long and full of laughter, the evenings balmy with golden sunsets. There were late hours in the night when they caught up on all the Stafford family business with their father—the people and the ports they visited, favorite stories they all recalled, ideas and dreams they had, but had never shared.

  Alex was still limited in sharing in much of the fun, but Joshua was always with her, engaging her in their plans for the future, teasing her about children, debating the location of their nursery; often when in the middle of one of these discussions, Alex would look up from their notes and get lost in his eyes. On such occasions, she had only to lift her face a fraction for him to know she needed his kiss.

  As her health improved, Birdie and her father spent more time with her designing a new ship. Alex worried over Birdie constantly, the recent adventures having taken their toll on him. Emma pro
ceeded with wedding plans—for Alex. She and Marcus would not announce anything until they were back in London, but it was agreed Alex and Joshua would marry on Las Palmas.

  The day before their wedding, Joshua came upon her drawing in the journal Matthew had recovered. She was sketching the woman rising from the ocean, one hand over her womb, the other stretched out over the ocean. Alex looked up, not hiding the image.

  “I’ve decided she is protecting the future, not destroying it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, since I have something for you.” Joshua pulled her astrolabe out from behind his back, hanging it from his fingers to show off the shiny new chain.

  “Whatever this is, whatever this means”—Joshua widened the chain and slipped it over her head—“it’s part of you.” He took her scarred wrist and bent his lips reverently over it. “And there’s no part of you that I don’t want.” He walked behind her and carefully lifted her hair away from the chain before kissing the mark at the back of her neck. “No part of you that isn’t beautiful to me.” He turned her. “And there’s nothing,” his voice got husky, “nothing, Alex, that could ever make me stop loving you.”

  Alex, smiled, fighting the glistening of emotion blinding her vision. She didn’t move for a long moment, the astrolabe cutting into the skin of her palm from the force of her grip. She looked down at it briefly then released it to settle over her heart.

  “It is part of me.” She took his hands in hers. “But it doesn’t rule me, or my destiny. I won’t let it.” She looked out over her family and friends, then back to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down with force. He slanted his lips over hers possessively, and she gave back in equal measure, pressing passionately into him, loving every stroke of his tongue, caress of his lips, and groan of anticipation. Pulling back, she made a promise. “I choose life, Joshua. With you, and my family, and my friends. I’m not going to be the ‘end of days.’ I’m going to be the beginning of them.”

  He nodded, accepting. “Excellent. Because we are not going to be having anymore of this trouble.” It sounded like a command.

  “Hmmm.”

  “I’ll take that as agreement.” He kissed her affectionately on the top of her head. “We’re going to lead a nice, peaceful, normal life.”

  Her body started to shake with laughter. He lifted his head to frown at her in warning. “You are not always going to get your way, you know.”

  They were surrounded by the love of family and friends, and Alex smiled with the knowledge that she could change, but some things need never change. It gave her immense confidence. She grinned mischievously, and teased him. “Oh, yes, Joshua. I am.”

  He sighed dramatically, giving in. “Are you upset about your carpet?”

  She shook her head with certainty. “No. That’s behind us.”

  He bent his head, laying kisses against her temple, her brow, and at her moan of frustration, down to her lips. Then he lifted her and spun her off her feet. She laughed with pure joy, holding on with everything she had. Her life perfect.

  Some day, she promised herself, when it was time, she would tell him the truth about where the real map was.

  After all, every legend has her secrets.

  Siren’s Song

  © 2008 Patricia A. Cerrone

  ISBN: 9780843960860

  LEISURE Books

  Ed♥n