Minter blushed. "I'd better be getting back to the Golden Eagle. I wish both of you good fortune."
"But, wait—surely you'll be coming to our wedding?" Adrienne cried suddenly, remembering.
"I don't think it will be that sort of wedding," Nathan said. He leaned forward and tapped Philip on the shoulder, signaling that they were ready to proceed.
Adrienne's world was whirling with a mixture of confusion and delight. As they clattered over the narrow, cobbled streets of Bridgetown, Nathan acted as guide. It seemed that everything had an English name, from Trafalgar Square, just south of the Careenage, to the main thoroughfare called Broad Street. However, Bridgetown looked nothing at all like London. There were people of every color and class, and animals ranging from donkeys to monkeys, and vendors selling a variety of bright, exotic fruits and flowers. The shops, inside the sturdy stone buildings, had small windows that showed no goods to the curious newcomer. Perhaps, Adrienne decided, the last hurricane had convinced the merchants to keep glass to a minimum.
"I don't think I realized," she said softly, "that there would be so few white people and so many..."
"They prefer to be called colored," Nathan supplied, "and, yes, the slaves and free colored people far outnumber the rest of us. Five to one, I'd guess."
She made a little sound of surprise. "Slaves! I—I don't think that had even occurred to me! I suppose I thought it was only the Americans who engaged in such barbarism."
"Not all Americans; just in our South." he corrected. "And, yes, unfortunately, the plantations here and on other West Indian islands are staffed mostly by slave labor."
"I cannot tell you how shocking I find that. I don't know if I would have come had I known."
"Indeed." Nathan flicked up an eyebrow and lounged against the upholstered seat. "Would it be easier to tolerate if I tell you that the slave trade was abolished here twelve years ago?"
"You mean the slaves have been freed?"
"No... we just can't bring any more to Barbados. That doesn't mean that there aren't already enough, or that the children of these slaves won't be slaves themselves." He shrugged. "It's a fact of life, I'm afraid—although I do think that we may see emancipation on Barbados in my lifetime, which is more than I can say for America."
"Nathan..." Her pretty chin was set in an unforgiving line. "Surely you do not own slaves? You, as an American from the northern states, could never be a party to something so cruel and degrading to your fellow human beings!"
"No one has ever challenged me on the subject in quite those terms," he allowed. His own expression took on a stubborn hardness. "I have never purchased a slave, and I have offered many their freedom. When I bought Tempest Hall, I got everything, including its slaves, and it hasn't seemed wise to tamper with the workings of the plantation when I am scarcely home as it is."
"Then you do own slaves!" Adrienne spoke the words as if she were accusing him of torture and murder.
"For God's sake, keep your voice down! Yes, I suppose I do, but it was never a conscious choice. Many of my workers are free now, but frankly, I can't afford to pay them all a wage yet."
Philip's head inclined a bit in their direction. "You do have debt aplenty as it is, sir," he interjected.
"Surely you are not going to defend this man, are you, Philip?" Adrienne cried. "How can you defend someone who has the audacity to claim ownership of your being?"
"Oh, Captain Raveneau don' own me," the old man replied cheerfully. "My wife an' me be free one score and ten year. Master Graves give we de gift when he die."
"That was thirty years ago—and you chose to remain at Tempest Hall?"
"Yes, Mistress. We have nice life an' work dere. We t'ink, why leave we home?"
Nathan reached for her hand and gripped it hard. "You have a lot to learn about life on Barbados, my dear. You might be wise to hold your tongue until you are better informed."
The road they traveled up the western coast offered views of the placid, aqua Caribbean Sea, plantation houses set inland on high ground, and some swampland in between.
Nathan was glad for the chance to change topics. "We could have sailed north to Speightstown on the schooner that travels back and forth, but I was anxious to set foot on the island and have a look around. Unfortunately, the roads here aren't good." He gestured toward the ruts. "Barbados was once covered with palm trees and shady forests, but when the English arrived two centuries ago, they cleared the land, drained the swamps, and began building homes and planting crops. Roads were put in to get the goods to the ships, but they aren't useful for much else."
"So many great stone windmills!" Adrienne exclaimed, pointing at a handsome plantation as they passed. "What are they for?"
"The sugarcane is ground in the mill, but that's just one step in getting sugar. I'll show you our buildings tomorrow and explain the process. It's very involved and mysterious!"
"You know that I'm curious, and I love to learn. Before you know it, I'll have devised a better method!"
Philip turned all the way around to stare at her, eyes wide, and Nathan began to laugh. "De lady not like any we know!" exclaimed the old man, which elicited more laughter from his employer.
The road dipped low through a long gully, with tree roots protruding all around them, and Nathan explained that the wildly beautiful trees above were called bearded figs. "Actually, the island is probably named for those trees," he said. "Barbados means 'bearded ones' in Portuguese. Most likely the settlers were referring either to these ancient trees that look as if they have beards—or to bearded tribesmen." He paused, then added, "You see, my dear bluestocking, you are not the only one who likes to study."
"Is Nathan Raveneau as much a scholar as Nathan Essex was?"
"More."
The drive to Tempest Hall took hours. Adrienne asked about the groves of mahogany trees they passed and the cavorting green monkeys she glimpsed from the sulky, and Nathan explained that both had been imported by early settlers. "Even we Bajans sometimes forget that many of the things we take for granted aren't indigenous, like the mangoes I eat every morning!"
Finally, after stopping for a midday meal in Holetown, Adrienne was overcome by drowsiness. She dropped off and slept for most of the afternoon. When she awoke, she found that her cheek was resting on Nathan's shoulder. Both of them were damp with perspiration, but he smelled clean and wonderfully masculine to her, and the sensation of his warm, hard body touching hers was bliss.
"Ah," he murmured, sounding both tender and amused, "she stirs."
Adrienne didn't want to move. Daringly, she snuggled into his chest, and he allowed it. "I'm so tired. It must be the climate. Or that spicy food!"
"Or perhaps it's lack of sleep last night? Here, sit up, chit." He cradled her near for a moment, then propped her up. "We're nearly there."
"At Tempest Hall? How can that be?" Suddenly Adrienne was alert. Rosy-cheeked and sleepy-eyed, she looked enchanting as she leaned out the side of the sulky for a better look. "We had so far to go—"
"You sleep many hours, Mistress," Philip informed her with a broad smile. "You look like a baby girl."
The horses crowned the top of a high hill and Nathan pointed out the jagged east shore of the island in the distance below them. The Atlantic Ocean was periwinkle blue, its ruffled white breakers edging the beach. To the south, in a valley, lay a tiny village of weatherbeaten wooden houses. Before Adrienne could turn to look in another direction, Philip guided the sulky down a hill through a gloriously dark mahogany forest. The dramatic trees met high above the road, their gnarled branches intertwining to make a cool canopy.
"It's so beautiful!" Adrienne cried, awestruck. "It's the last thing one expects on a tropical island."
"We love our mahogany trees. Most of our furniture is made from trees grown right here on Barbados." As he spoke, Nathan looked down a bare hillside to the mill and outbuildings of his own plantation. There was little human activity to be seen. The mill wheel didn't move at all. "What
's going on, Philip? Don't tell me Horner has let things go in my absence?"
Philip looked uncomfortable. "I do be taken up wit' Orchid's illness. I t'ink you bring Mr. Horner to manage de plantation, and I not go in de middle."
"Who is Mr. Horner?" Adrienne asked.
In distracted tones, Nathan explained that he'd been trying to revive Tempest Hall, even though he was away so much. Deciding that an expert plantation manager would be an ideal solution, he had imported Owen Horner from England that very year, and had expected to see great progress upon his return from sea.
They had turned down a narrow lane lined with tall hedges of sweet lime. Wood doves cooed from a row of tamarind trees, and a pair of monkeys ran across their path and crashed into the bushes. Adrienne couldn't help laughing at the scolding sounds they made. Then, just as she was about to ask the names of the brilliant blue and magenta flowers that spilled over a nearby stone wall, the towers of Tempest Hall came into sight.
"I never thought to see towers on a plantation here," she murmured.
"Dey not towers, Mistress," Philip replied. "Dey chimneys! Englishmen come here long ago an' bring plan for house, but he confuse 'bout de Bajan climate!" And he laughed, delighted, at the old joke.
"No, I don't suppose there is much need for a fireplace," she agreed.
"We have four," Nathan said dryly. His attention had already wandered, and he hopped to the ground as the sulky rolled up before the gates opening onto the gardens in front of Tempest Hall. "Do my eyes deceive me, Philip?" He pointed to the fancy blue-trimmed chaise waiting nearby.
"No, Captain." The old man looked embarrassed. "De man is who you t'ink."
"I take it this isn't the first time he's visited in my absence?" Instead of growing louder with anger, Nathan's voice turned colder.
"No. I tell you, but we have a nice day, wit' de lady and all...." Philip saw that his employer was waiting for more, so he climbed down and went to stand before him. "Mr. Horner and he be friendly. I warn Mr. Horner dat you do not like dis...."
Adrienne was warm inside the sulky and overcome with curiosity. Through the open gates, she could see a courtyard with flowering trees on either side of the walkway that led to the house. What little was visible of the front of Tempest Hall was keenly enticing: an arcaded verandah supporting a great stone balcony along which marched six shuttered windows. The tiled roof was gabled, and studded with four ornate chimneys. Adrienne was struck by the realization that this would be her married home. She could hardly wait to go inside.
A moment later she had lifted her skirts and joined Nathan and Philip out in the fresh air. "Will someone tell me what is going on?" she demanded. "Whose carriage is that?"
Just then two men came out of the house, laughing as they strolled into the garden, each carrying a glass of golden liquid. Upon catching sight of Nathan Raveneau, the taller, heavier man looked as if he'd like to find a place to hide, and his bald head turned pink.
"Let me guess," Adrienne tried. "That's Owen Horner, yes?" After receiving a short nod from Nathan, she continued in a hushed whisper, "And who is that with him? The owner of the chaise? He looks very friendly! Goodness, he's coming toward us as if you and he are long-lost brothers!"
The man strode confidently through the garden, heading straight for the newly arrived trio. "Ah, Raveneau, you've arrived earlier than Philip predicted. And I see that you've returned with more cargo than usual!" Short, but compact and fit, the fellow had thick, wavy brown hair, deeply tanned skin, penetrating pale-blue eyes, and a charming smile. "Shall I introduce myself to the lady, or will you do the honors?"
Adrienne could feel the dark energy emanating from Nathan's body. His features were taut and he seemed to forget that she even existed. It came to her then who this man must be, and she shivered with apprehension in the heat. "You are Xavier Crowe, aren't you?"
He bowed low before her and lifted the glass to his lips, as if toasting her with Raveneau's best Bajan rum. "Your humble servant, my lady. I am flattered to be recognized. And you are...?"
"None of your damned business!" Nathan ground out. Tendons stood out in his neck, and his hands were clenched at his sides. "Get out. You knew that I'd kill you before I'd let you in my house, and yet you came behind my back anyway. I'd like to kill you still now, but that would be too easy. Get off my land and never come near us again!"
Crowe shrugged, smiling, and finished his rum. "Testy, aren't we?" He waved to Horner, who was lurking inside the verandah, and walked to his chaise. There he turned back and stared directly into Adrienne's eyes. "I'm not a beast, Miss Beauvisage. You mustn't be afraid of me when next we meet."
A moment later Nathan had gripped her arm and was literally dragging her away toward the house. "Horner!" he yelled. "Pack your things and get out. I don't want to see your traitorous face again!"
"You can't just sack me without a shilling to my name!" the Englishman protested loudly. "I came halfway 'round the world to work for you. Where will I go?"
A voice called from the drive. "You may come to Crowe's Nest, my good fellow. I should be glad to hire a man of your many talents." Looking toward Raveneau, Crowe added, "Shall I take your regards to Eloise?"
Nathan didn't speak but stared daggers back at Xavier Crowe, who finally did climb into his chaise and start off toward the mahogany forest. Adrienne could only watch, Crowe's parting words echoing in her mind.
In the next moment, Nathan had crossed the verandah and gripped the front of Owen Horner's sweat-stained shirt. "I'll know where to find you then, if I discover a discrepancy of even one pound in the plantation ledgers."
The manager was trembling visibly. " 'Twould seem that I have another haven on this island, though you mustn't assume that I have been in league with that man—"
After wresting the glass of rum from Horner's fist, Nathan poured it over his head. "Get out."
When he returned to Adrienne's side and grasped her arm, she could feel the raw power of his fury. Horner scuttled away toward his quarters and Adrienne allowed Nathan to pull her along, but as soon as they were inside the cool, shadowy house, she made a noise of protest. "Loose me! You are hurting me!"
Instantly he released her arm, startled by his own behavior. As he paced across the spacious sitting room, Nathan raked both hands through his hair. "You don't understand how evil Xavier Crowe is. You can see that he managed to suborn my plantation manager in my absence, and who knows where that would have led if I hadn't caught them together?" He drew a harsh breath. "But it's not just what he's done to me. He's murdered and stolen and ruined countless lives, and all of it amuses him. Perhaps I shouldn't have brought you here."
"We mustn't be irrational." Adrienne straightened her slim form, trying to appear composed while her heart was throbbing with the memory of Crowe's taunt—about Eloise! She badly wanted to ask Nathan who the woman was and what part she played in his grudge against Xavier Crowe, but he was already too angry. Instead she said, "I'm not afraid of Xavier Crowe... but I do wonder, how did he know my name?"
Chapter 17
"What do you mean? Crowe doesn't know your name. I refused to introduce you." Nathan stopped in the middle of the room, waiting for her response.
"Don't you remember? Just after he walked to his chaise, he told me not to be afraid of him, and he called me 'Miss Beauvisage'! There was the most unnerving gleam in his eye."
"I haven't been back on the island for one day yet, and already I'm compelled to play this familiar game of cat-and-mouse with Xavier Crowe!" He strode into the dining room, opened the celleret, and poured himself a glass of the same rum Crowe and Horner had been drinking. "You'd think he'd have had better things to do these past months, wouldn't you? It's as if he has written a play and has arranged all the characters on stage, just as he desires, right down to Owen Horner. All that was required for the drama to commence was my arrival..." He drank, thinking. "Or shall I say, our arrival. It's eerie that he could know your name before I'd even gotten you to Tempest Ha
ll."
"I'll have sherry," Adrienne volunteered with a note of irony.
"I was just about to ask." Nathan held out a goblet for her, his expression pensive. They drank without toasting, silent except for the incessant creaky-honking calls of guinea fowl in the gardens. At length, Nathan mused, "Perhaps Crowe had a spy at the Careenage."
"How did the spy reach Mr. Crowe before we did?"
"Devil if I know. Perhaps he was on horseback."
"A great deal doesn't make sense."
"I've told you, he's a demon! For all we know, Satan himself whispered your name in his ear. Let's forget about it, hmm? That's the only reason he did this, to make certain we'd torture ourselves trying to puzzle it out for the rest of the day!"
Adrienne found herself gazing around the two big rooms that spanned the front of Tempest Hall. "Tell me about the house, then. It's lovely!"
He seemed to focus on the condition of his home for the first time, and frowned. "It looks as if my entire staff has been on holiday for months! Not only are the field slaves apparently napping in their huts instead of working, but my house looks like the devil!"
Secretly Adrienne agreed. The furniture, which consisted of fine dark mahogany pieces in styles ranging from Sheraton in the dining room to Georgian in the sitting room, needed polishing. Some of the caned chair seats were broken or frayed.
The rooms were painted light tropical colors: pale melon in the dining room and lime in the sitting room. Adrienne thought they were refreshing choices, but noticed that the paint was peeling high on the walls and in the corners, as well as on the jalousie shutters that framed every deep casement window. The beautiful wide-board floors were dark with grime, and the priceless Turkish carpets were dusty.
"Your eyes betray your thoughts," he said. "At least there aren't any draperies to rot and smell."
"Better still, there are window seats! I love any house with window seats." She tried to sound lighthearted. To show disappointment at a time like this would be horribly rude, but Adrienne did feel just a little let down. So far, Tempest Hall bore little resemblance to the splendid manor she'd imagined during their voyage.
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