Tides of Passion

Home > Other > Tides of Passion > Page 36
Tides of Passion Page 36

by Sara Orwig


  Was Josh correct? Would they be safe from Quita’s betrayal because it would reveal her identity also? Lianna turned to stare at the door to Josh’s room. Beyond it he lay stretched in bed, asleep. The mental image came of Josh sprawled on the bed, his coppery skin dark against the white sheets, his long legs stretched out. With a groan she tried to force her attention elsewhere.

  The next morning, the servants drifted through the house in silence, moving quickly about their jobs, until Lianna realized they were acting in an unnatural manner.

  She summoned Maria. The girl curtsied and stood before her with wide eyes. “What ails this household?” Lianna asked.

  The girl appeared on the verge of tears. “Doña Lita, I know nothing about it.”

  At that moment Lianna heard voices in the entryway. She rushed into the hall to meet Josh, who looked so handsome in a black coat and breeches and high polished boots that she was momentarily distracted.

  “I see you have discovered our loss,” he said quickly.

  Another figure in a green uniform emerged from the shadows of the zaguán. General Farjado came forward with a frown on his face.

  “Buenos días,” Lianna greeted him, her gaze returning to Josh. “What loss? What’s happened?” Lianna asked, realizing that it had to be the disappearance of Madryn and Rinaldo. Suddenly panic gripped her. Suppose they had been caught! Josh looked grim, his features set solemnly.

  With a scowl Josh answered, “The servants have taken four of our horses and run away, but they won’t get far before they’re caught.”

  “Run away!” Lianna repeated breathlessly, hiding her relief. “Who?”

  “The maid Teresa Huancayo and her daughter Madryn are gone. Also a stablehand, Rinaldo Sepulveda, along with his younger brother, Lucas. The general assures me they won’t get far before they’re caught.”

  “But if they wanted to leave, why didn’t they tell us?”

  General Farjado answered, “They’re worthless people who most likely don’t want to work. The blacksmith is a heretic. We’ll find them and your horses, which are more valuable.”

  With smooth composure Josh said, “Lita, I’m sorry you were troubled with this. Don’t let it concern you.” He smiled and turned to the general. “This way. We’ll have coffee in the salon.” Both men nodded to her and left.

  All through the morning and early afternoon soldiers and officers were in and out of the house, talking with General Farjado and Josh. That afternoon she heard Josh’s boots clatter on the stones in the courtyard. She waited breathlessly in the corridor upstairs, watching his dark hair as he climbed the steps swiftly, taking two at a time.

  “Buenas tardes, cara,” he said. His arm went around her waist and he drew her into his room, closing the door on prying eyes and ears. The moment the door closed behind them, he released her.

  “Where are Rinaldo and Madryn?” she asked.

  “They divided—the able-bodied men, including Rinaldo, went to the mountains to join the Chilenos, the patriot army of Chile. The others are safely aboard El Feroz.”

  “Thank goodness!” She sank down on the edge of a chair, folds of her yellow muslin dress billowing and settling over her legs. “Do you know if they encountered difficulty?”

  “No, they didn’t.” He smiled. “There isn’t anyone left in either family who would be of interest to the authorities—a fact which became apparent just this afternoon and is causing increasing irritation.”

  He straightened. “I’m due at a meeting with the governor.”

  “Is there any suspicion about how they escaped?”

  “None that I’m aware of.” He crossed the room to tie a cravat. His gaze in the mirror shifted to her. “Captain Caribe is dead.”

  “No! You didn’t—”

  “No. I suspect Rinaldo or one of his brothers. It was caused by a snakebite, and many people will see no connection, but General Farjado and Governor Marcheno won’t be fooled.” Josh craned his neck as he folded the wide cravat. Lianna couldn’t resist crossing the room to stand beside him. “Turn around. I’ve tied my father’s cravats on occasion.”

  He faced her, and she carefully avoided looking into his watchful eyes. She twisted the smooth cloth, conscious of her hands resting on his chest, of a vein in his neck pulsing with each heartbeat. A faint, enticing woodsy scent assailed her, bringing swift memories that made her fingers fumble the bit of silk. Her mind raced for something to say to break a silence that was all too swiftly being filled by her pounding heartbeat.

  “I should pay a call on Quita. Perhaps it’ll give us a chance to talk alone before we’re in the eyes of the public at a formal dinner.”

  “You’re having difficulty tying my cravat,” he said softly.

  She clamped her jaw together. “You should stand still.”

  “I haven’t so much as taken a breath.”

  She shot him a glance, and the effect was like a blow to her midriff. “Perhaps you should tie it yourself,” she said, and started to turn.

  His arm caught her. “Oh, no! Tie it, Lianna. I’ll stand here until there are rainbows in hell if necessary.”

  She laughed at his teasing, excitement bubbling in her while she began again. “It’s been a long time. I don’t remember how.” She carefully straightened it around his neck and smoothed it in place.

  “Any woman who can whisk forty-three people out from under the Spaniards’ noses should be able to tie one cravat.”

  “The cravat is infinitely more difficult,” she answered lightly, yet she felt as if she were on the brink of a yawning chasm.

  “Now, why on earth is that?” he asked in great innocence.

  “Because, Josh, I must fasten it on you,” she said.

  He tilted her chin up, but she kept her eyes on his cravat, working faster. “Be still, I’m almost—”

  “Look at me.”

  Her blood heated at his commanding tone. His green eyes probed mercilessly, then narrowed, and she knew she couldn’t hide anything. If he laughed at her she would…

  Desperate to avoid his curiosity, she moved away and asked, “How are the patriots faring?”

  He leaned against the mantelpiece, studying her while he answered, “We draw closer to conflict.”

  It was almost impossible to think about the Spanish when her thoughts were tumbling over Josh. “You think there’s a way to fight the Spaniards after all?”

  “Yes, there is,” he answered, and his expression altered. “San Martín is daring. He’s quartered in Mendoza, gathering an army, while others help here.”

  “How can they help in Santiago?”

  “By spreading false rumors about the coming conflict. Then perhaps the Spanish will center their forces at the wrong points.”

  “And you’re one of those spreading rumors?”

  “Yes. General Marco del Ponte and General Farjado will be in charge of the Spanish troops. Hopefully, both of them and the other Spanish officers will be misled.”

  “You know what San Martín plans?”

  His frown vanished and his eyes glittered like emeralds under a midday sun. “Look, Lianna…” Pulling off his coat, he dropped it on the floor as he sat on a chair facing her. Pointing to the coat, he said, “Here’s Santiago.” His hand circled the coat. “Spanish soldiers reside in town, their armies surround it to protect it.” He touched her knee. “Where you sit is the sea, with the Spanish guns trained on it.”

  “And behind it all—an impossible barrier, the Andes,” she said.

  “Right. Behind Santiago to the east, where I am, are the Andes. Rugged, snow-covered, a natural fortress. Now, how will San Martín surprise the Spanish and gain control?”

  She looked at the coat spread on the floor. “Everything is protected.” Questioningly she suggested, “A fleet that is powerful enough to withstand the guns?”

  “No. There is one English ship willing to help, Admiral Cochrane’s, and word has it two more will arrive any day now, one a mercenary who is an Englishman. But
no. From the sea it’s hopeless.”

  “I’m not a soldier, Josh. How can the Spanish be attacked?”

  “I’ve been gone, supposedly at our estancia, but actually I met with men who’ve been with San Martín. He is brilliant, Lianna!”

  She looked at his eyes sparkling with anticipation, the leanness of a body physically fit, ready for action. “You’re a pirate who loves battle!”

  “No, I want to succeed when I set out to do something.”

  “And you always do succeed,” she answered.

  His chest expanded as he drew a sharp breath. She was held by his gaze, her voice fading to a whisper. “Where are the Spanish vulnerable?” she asked, but was only dimly aware of the question.

  Her attention was on Josh, on her awareness of him as an appealing man, a man who could love her until all thought was gone, until she gasped and ached and cried for him… She trembled and clenched her fingers.

  When he didn’t answer, she frowned and asked again, “Where are they vulnerable?”

  “I feel as vulnerable as the Spanish Army,” he said softly.

  She drew in her breath. “Your heart is an iron fortress and nothing can melt it.” His eyes darkened and her blood raced in her veins. “Josh, answer me about the Spanish. Where can San Martín attack?”

  With an unwavering gaze he doubled his first and placed it against his chest. “Here. We will come this way.”

  As what he was saying dawned on her, her eyes widened. “Across the mountains? He would bring an army of men and horses over the cordillera!” She thought of the jagged mountains, their snowy peaks often hidden by clouds. “That’s impossible!”

  The determination in Josh’s eyes gave her an answer. “Lianna, the army of the patriots will cross the Andes. The Spaniards will never expect it.”

  “Of course they won’t, because it can’t be done! No army can accomplish such madness. The slopes are filled with snow and ice,” she said, suddenly terrified of what lay ahead for Josh.

  “San Martín is training his men in the mountains at Mendoza. They’re gathering supplies, making portable bridges and slings to carry the cannon.”

  “Where’s Mendoza?”

  “Across the border in Argentina. A monk, Fray Luis Beltrán, is aiding San Martín. They’ve melted down the church bells to get iron for machetes and cannon.”

  “The church bells—to use for weapons to kill men?”

  “To gain freedom from tyranny, Lianna! He’s made more than fifty thousand horseshoes. Women have given their jewelry to have it melted down. They’re weaving dyed blue llama wool and goat hair into uniforms.”

  Suddenly Lianna felt desolate. Her days with Josh Raven were numbered, drawing to a close. She held her breath as she asked, “Will you be with them?”

  “Of course,” he answered solemnly, but she heard the exhilaration in his voice. “We’ll leave soon. I’ll send you to El Feroz, then I’ll ride south to a pass to cross to Argentina and go back north to Mendoza.”

  “It’s impossible!”

  “No,” he whispered, and knelt on one knee to pick up his coat. He paused, looking into her eyes, his face only inches away. “I think it can be done, when the first of January comes—Chile’s summer, and as good as the weather will ever be in the mountains. There are two passes to the north of us and west of Mendoza. They’ve mapped out the way they’ll cross.”

  “When you’re lost down a mountainside, how do I get back to England?”

  “Come now, Lianna, for Madryn’s escape you accomplished the impossible!”

  She was pleased with his words, but they didn’t vanquish her worries. “I didn’t do it alone.”

  “I’ve pledged my aid to San Martín.”

  “And I shall be hopelessly lost here.”

  He reached out to take her hand, and the touch was a brush of fire. “No. Simms will escort you to El Feroz when I leave. I promise you’ll be delivered safely back to England. You’ll get your freedom,” he said. “The patriots’ army of Chile is ready to move. I’ll go join them. By spring you will be on El Feroz sailing for England.”

  He knelt before her, his hand over hers, his wrist resting on her knee. Lianna gazed into his thickly fringed green eyes and quivered. An ache that was becoming more and more familiar to her spread hotly inside. It wasn’t England she wanted…

  His brows arched and he leaned closer, his gaze lowering to her mouth. She whispered, “You don’t have to fight. You court danger as if it were a lady.”

  “Danger is a beautiful blue-eyed lady who would destroy me if I let her.”

  She blushed. “You’re too strong for me to destroy you. I couldn’t inflict the smallest wound.”

  “The wounds you’ve already inflicted torment, yet there is something between us that draws you as much as it does me.”

  He leaned closer, and Lianna could no more draw back or resist him than she could get up and walk out. She leaned forward, her lashes fluttered, her gaze rested on his mouth. She trembled with desire and closed her eyes.

  His lips touched hers, and longing seared every nerve. As his arms went around her, Lianna slipped her hands across his shoulders, winding her fingers in his hair. She paused to look at him. “I can’t resist you.”

  “Nor I you, Lianna. If only…”

  His words trailed off as he kissed her and they slipped to the floor, Josh pulling her down on top of him. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders and his; her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out all sounds.

  She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t get close enough, get enough of Josh. She ran her fingers through his silky hair, she touched the strong column of his throat. Through her skirt and chemise, through the petticoats, she felt his arousal. Her hips moved against him and she moaned softly. She wanted to rip away all the barriers, to touch his solid muscles, to claim his friendship, his love.

  She caught his head with her hands. “Oh, Josh, it doesn’t have to be this way. Would you give up the sea?”

  His green eyes darkened as his brows narrowed and his breath seemed to stop. “You care?”

  “Of course I care! I love you,” she whispered, feeling her heart thud as his eyelids fluttered. His dark brows came together in a frown, and he sat up, holding her shoulders. His eyes bored into her as if he wanted to see her soul.

  “What about Edwin Stafford?”

  “Edwin was part of my childhood.” She met Josh’s searching stare. “Life changes, and it isn’t Edwin who has my heart.”

  Josh’s eyes closed as if he were in pain, but his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her to him as he crushed the breath from her lungs. His voice sounded agonized. “Lianna! I’d given up waiting to hear you say the words! I think I’ve loved you from the first night. That’s why I couldn’t let you go.”

  She pulled away to look at him, unaware of his fingers tugging at the buttons on her dress. “Why didn’t you tell me? Never once—”

  “Never, because you didn’t love me. You haven’t loved me since that first month at sea. Admit it.”

  “No, it took time for me to recognize what I feel,” she whispered, “and I think I fought it constantly,” she said, her words slowing as he pushed her dress off her shoulders and cupped her breasts in his hands.

  “Why?” he asked, looking up at her. His thumbs flicked over nipples that were taut with desire. At the moment, all she could think about was that the man she loved was inches away, his hands caressing her.

  “I do love you,” she whispered, and tilted her face upward as his mouth came down.

  He loved her passionately, making her cry out in eagerness. Josh felt as if he would burst with need and love. He wanted to stir her to the heights of passion, to give love to her endlessly. Her hands moving on his legs made him burn with need. Her fingers drifted over him, caressing him, and he closed his eyes, whispering his love to her until he could stand no more.

  He moved between her legs, wanting to feel her softness engulf his senses, wanting to possess he
r as if he could make her his forever.

  Passion racked him in shuddering waves as he gasped, “Lianna, my love!”

  She cried out, clinging to him, her hips meeting his thrusts in a blinding union.

  He held her tenderly afterward, as their breathing returned to normal. He kissed her shoulder, his arms holding her close. “I love you,” he whispered over and over.

  She caught his face in her hands. “Josh, we need to talk about our future,” she said solemnly.

  He smiled, rolling on his side and propping his head on his hand with his elbow resting on the floor. “I think I was supposed to meet some men about half an hour ago.”

  Lianna’s heart felt as if it might burst with joy as she looked up at her handsome husband. She couldn’t resist touching him, her fingers moving lightly over his shoulder and chest, along his bristly jaw. “Josh,” she said, trying to find the right words, wanting to wait and worry about them later, yet knowing that every day increased the danger he faced. “You asked me why I fought loving you.”

  “Mmm,” he said as he kissed her throat and looked at her curiously. “I thought it was because of Edwin.”

  “Not for a long time now.”

  “Why?” He waited, studying her more intently.

  “I was an only child, and my father was always at sea, even though we had a farm. Here you are, fighting in a revolution that grows more dangerous by the hour. You risk your life daily.”

  He raised his head to watch her, a slight frown on his forehead as she continued, “Take me home to England and away from this, please! Let’s settle on the farm. I can’t…tie my life to a pirate!”

  “Sailing is all I know, Lianna,” he said, sounding so agonized that she felt torn apart.

  “You know all I can do is sail and be a privateer,” he said, feeling a crushing blow. He wanted her to love him no matter what he did—as he loved her.

  “I can’t live that way,” she said, hot tears stinging her eyes while his scowl deepened. “Our children wouldn’t know their father any more than I knew mine. I have a farm when I go home and claim my inheritance.”

 

‹ Prev