by Paula Reed
“This was a very important event to have left out of the tale of your journey here,” he reproached. “You never told us the ship you sailed on was a pirate ship. You were in grave danger, Faith!”
“I wasn’t, truly! Geoff—that is, Captain Hampton—protected me at all costs. I am so very sorry, Capitán Montoya, that the greatest price was borne by you. The fault is mine.”
Diego eyed her with mild skepticism. “I can hardly fault you, Miss Cooper. Your presence on his ship was surely as much his reason for wanting to let us pass as it was his motive for attacking us after all. If you had not been there, he simply would have taken my ship with greater relish. Magdalena was by no means the first Spanish ship to be harassed by him.”
Unable to refute the truth of his statement, she merely replied, “I doubt he is still near Jamaica. I cannot imagine where you might look for him. I am sorry, Capitán. The attack must have cost you dearly.”
“It cost my crew and my employer far more. Several of my men died that day. And I do not own the ship or its cargo.”
“But he spared the lives of as many as he could,” Faith argued. “He told me so.”
Diego seemed unmoved. “He killed one of his own men.”
“There you have it!” Faith cried. “Proof that his men were near mutiny. The man he killed was about to kill him, was he not?” At Diego’s begrudging nod, she continued, “He risked much when he spared your lives.”
“How can you defend this man, Faith?” her uncle asked.
Elizabeth intervened. “It seems to me that her argument has some merit.”
“Perhaps some,” Diego conceded. “Nonetheless, I will find him and take him to Cartagena to face justice.”
“Will you not send him to England, then?” Miguel asked.
“After the ‘justice’ that has been served to Henry Morgan? King Charles promised to arrest and try him, but he walks the streets of London as free as a bird.” Diego made a small, disgusted sound. “Nay, I will take Hampton to Cartagena.”
Faith’s face paled, and Elizabeth addressed the men. “We spent too long in the heat, I’m afraid, and had a bit too much wine. Our Faith, here, is unaccustomed to spirits. I think I’ll take her upstairs now, if you will excuse us.”
Faith allowed her aunt to lead her upstairs, her mind awhirl in all that had transpired. In truth, it was relief to escape to the protective confines of her room.
*
Diego watched the women ascend the mahogany stairs to the upper gallery. His uncle’s niece-by-marriage was a lovely girl, and well meaning, if misguided. Miguel had told him of her deeply religious background and of her heartbreaking departure from her home and family. It only made sense that she would see the English captain as her savior of some sort, hence, her misplaced feelings of loyalty.
Diego turned to his uncle and smiled. “Su sobrina es muy hermosa,” he said.
“Sí,” Miguel agreed. His niece was indeed beautiful. “Parece mentira, pero ella no tiene el esposo o novio.”
Diego’s uncle spoke true! It was hard to believe that no fortunate man had yet laid claim to such a beauty. He doubted he sounded at all sincere when he replied, “¡Es una lástima!” A shame for her perhaps, but he counted himself lucky. If she had felt some infatuation for Hampton, well, the man was out of her life, now.
Diego and Miguel exchanged quick, significant smiles and retired to the library again. He might come away from this excursion with more than just Captain Hampton and command of Magdalena.
*
The group reassembled to break their fast the next day, and Faith had recovered herself. In the wee hours of the morning, listening to the relentless songs of tree frogs, she concluded that it was most unlikely that the Spanish captain would find Geoff, and even if he did, Geoff had already defeated him once. Surely he could do so again. The comfort of these thoughts had finally permitted her to sleep.
Now, she was dressed in a pale pink gown with a tight bodice that came to a low point in front and was covered in deep wine embroidery. The light silk skirts billowed over lace-trimmed petticoats, and the sleeves ended at the elbows with fetching, wine colored satin bows. Though the neckline was modest, it was by no means prim, showing her ivory throat to full advantage.
Her aunt had chosen the gown, and she knew very well why. Perhaps Elizabeth was right to push her in this direction. It was time to accept the fact that whatever had happened between her and Geoff was over. It was time to think of the future.
Miguel and Elizabeth quelled their own garrulous tendencies, allowing their nephew to take center stage, and Faith had to admit, he was delightful company. He told colorful stories of outsailing pirates and encountering strange and humorous people in his travels. She allowed herself to consider him, much as she had once considered Aaron Jacobs. He was more pleasing to look upon than Aaron had been, and he was a ship’s captain. Goodness knew, she had come to love the sea, and he kept no slaves.
Of course, there were a host of other things to contemplate. They came from different countries, countries that were hostile toward each other, at best. Her parents would never approve. There could be no doubt that she would suffer the same fate as Elizabeth, but for all she knew, that was already the case. She may well have sealed her fate the night she ran away. But even if she could never return home, she was not at all sure she could live in Spain or one of her colonies, which she might be expected to do if she encouraged Capitán Montoya.
There would be much for both of them to consider, but it was clear that her aunt and uncle hoped for a match. Faith smiled to herself. She and Diego hardly knew each other. She was certainly placing the cart before the horse with her thoughts of marriage and life in Spain!
“Ah, Diego!” Elizabeth cheered. “You have done what is ever so difficult with our homesick Faith. You have made her smile!”
Faith blushed furiously at her aunt’s teasing, but Diego gave her a warm look. “I thought the room had gone suddenly brighter,” he replied.
After breakfast, Faith pleaded a headache when her aunt and uncle took Diego on a tour of the plantation. When they gathered again for the midday meal, he resumed his flirtation. He teased her lightly and complimented her lavishly, and clearly she was expected to respond in kind.
For all that she was no longer a virgin, she was still very inexperienced with men, and Faith was at a loss. She sensed that the capitán was perplexed by her bashfulness, but she knew that, unlike Geoff, the purpose of his flirtation was not seduction. What, then, was the end objective of this game?
Hours later, Elizabeth and Miguel contrived to leave the two young people alone on the veranda to watch the sunset, and Diego finally lightened his suit.
“Do I offend you?” he asked. “I do not mean to press my attentions where they are unwelcome.”
“Nay, I am not offended. I think you are accustomed to very different women. In my village, men and women do not speak so to one another.”
“No? In Spain, a woman is expected to be modest and somewhat aloof, but you are more genuinely so. I am intrigued. How do the young people in your village express an interest in each other?”
“Well, they speak of crops and religious matters. They consider one another’s standing in the church and among their neighbors. If the man believes they would be a suitable match, he petitions the woman’s parents for her hand.”
He frowned. “But how do they know if they are compatible?”
“The woman submits herself to her husband as the Bible demands. That makes them compatible.”
“What if he wants her to be something she is not because he never really came to know her heart before they wed?”
Faith sighed. What had once seemed so simple and obvious now seemed slightly absurd. “If she has God’s grace, she can be whatever her husband and parents expect her to be.” At his dubious look, she elaborated. “It is not as though she has no voice. It is simply that everyone knows what is expected from the start. Puritan women actually have quite a bit of say in the c
hurch, provided they are upright and adhere strictly to the tenets of the faith.”
He considered this thoughtfully. “But how does the couple know if there is any fire between them?”
“‘Fire,’ as you call it, is a sin.”
Diego grinned. “Sí, that is why there is confession.”
“Not for a Puritan. God forgives the sins of those chosen by Him before their birth. He does this by granting them divine grace. Those with grace can resist their sinful natures and live in accordance with holy law.”
His handsome face gaped in shock. “This is what you wish for in marriage? To resist nature?” He shook his head. “I have always thought that being allowed to give in to nature was one of the benefits of marriage.”
Faith giggled at Diego’s dismay. “Aye, well, that is one of the teachings of my church that I have come to question.”
He smiled brightly. “You should be a Catholic!”
Faith laughed. “I have a good bit of thinking to do ere I commit myself to another faith.”
“But Catholicism is not out of the question?” Diego’s voice was a little too disinterested, as though he were trying very hard to make it sound as though it did not matter.
So, that would be an important question if there were ever to be any possibility of marriage. “Nay,” she replied, thinking of her earlier question whether everyone worshipped the same god, in any case. “It is not out of the question.”
They moved inside as darkness fell, and Faith was delighted to learn that her fellow houseguest played chess.
“I must warn you,” he told her, “I am a firm believer that all is fair in love, war, and chess! You have already seen that I am ruthless in love.” His white teeth flashed in his dark face.
“Hold nothing back,” she replied. “As you have seen, I keep my wits about me in all cases.”
Whenever Faith had played with Noah, they would tease one another, trying to shake each other’s confidence. “Are you quite sure you wish to do that?” they would ask each other. Sometimes they meant it, because one of them had made a foolish move, but at other times, they said it just to make the other one sweat. It was taunt that she and Geoff had used, as well.
Diego moved his bishop, and Faith surveyed the board. The only purpose for such a move would be easily thwarted in two moves, when she should be able to take the piece. Try though she might, she could find no trap. Her brow furrowed, she asked, “Are you sure you wish to do that?”
Diego flashed her an arrogant grin, just the sort Geoff would have given before he pulled the rug out from under her. Carefully, she surveyed the board. No matter how hard she looked, she could see no other reason for his move than to take her knight, but her rook would intervene ere he’d have his chance. She need not even move the piece yet. With a shrug, she moved her own bishop, patiently working her way toward Diego’s queen.
Predictably, he moved his bishop again. She hesitated, but there was no imminent threat in taking it. When she did, he pulled back as though surprised by her simple tactics.
“You are very skilled,” Diego complimented.
Faith sighed. So, this was merely an act in order to perpetuate his flattery, she thought. He was letting her win.
“I assure you, Capitán, I am quite up to your best game. I have no need of your assistance.”
Diego bristled and gave her a tight smile. “Of course. Well, since you have asked.” He moved another piece, but his strategy was obvious, and Faith looked at her aunt in exasperation. To her surprise, Elizabeth frowned and shook her head slightly.
A single game with Noah or Geoff could last several days. Ere half an hour had passed, she had Diego’s queen. He crossed his arms and glared at the board, and it occurred to her that perhaps this, at least, had not been intentional.
He cleared his throat and laughed weakly. “I had to sacrifice her. She was distracting my king.” Gesturing across the board, he added, “Fair women are ever a distraction.” Shifting in his chair, he perused the game. His king was in grave danger, indeed.
“Well,” Faith suggested diplomatically, “perhaps it is a challenge reversing the damage from earlier, when you were letting me win.”
“Aye, when I was letting you win,” he agreed, swallowing hard.
“Faith!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “My, how time has gotten away from us! I think, mayhap, we should retire.”
Faith waved her hand in dismissal. “The game is nearly over, Aunt Elizabeth. A quarter of an hour, at most.”
Elizabeth rose and put her hand on Faith’s shoulder. “Look at you, dear. You can scarcely keep your eyes open,” she said sweetly through clenched teeth.
Faith cast a worried look at her aunt. She was clearly upset. With a sympathetic smile for Diego, she conceded, “Perhaps it isn’t quite fair. After all, you weren’t playing at your best the whole time.”
“It is a terrible shame that you avoid sugar, Faith,” Elizabeth said, far too blithely. “I can think of nothing you could use more, just now, than a mouthful of that wonderfully sticky honey and raisin pastry we had for dessert.”
The remark stung and bewildered Faith. Embarrassed at having been unfairly chastised, she looked to Diego for support.
“Faith is right, of course,” he said gallantly, but he rose from the table as though he had already dismissed the contest. “The game would have been over shortly.”
For the first time, Faith realized that he was genuinely unnerved. He gazed down at the board, a dismal look on his handsome face. She glanced back at her aunt, who shook her head again. Had he been playing his best all along? If so, her remarks had been needlessly cruel.
“I’m so sorry,” she began, but Elizabeth was now shaking her head vehemently. “That is, I am so sorry to end this now, ere we shall ever know who would have won. But I’m afraid my aunt is quite right. I’m too tired to keep my wits about me.”
Diego didn’t seem at all placated. It was clear enough that she would have won, and her attempt to soften her unintentional insults fell short.
“As you wish,” he said, still staring at the board, perplexed.
“Goodnight, Aunt Elizabeth, Uncle Miguel.” Softly, she added, “Capitàn.”
Diego lifted his eyes. Struggling to maintain his charm, he said, “Diego, please. We are all family here.” Stepping around the table, he came to stand at her side and took her hand in his. “Although even a single word in Spanish sounds smooth and sweet as honey from your lips. Perhaps I could teach you a bit of my language.”
She made no move to withdraw her hand. “That would be wonderful. I think I would like it very much.”
Diego smiled, his ruffled feathers smoothed. “Buenas noches, Señorita Cooper.”
“Faith. As you say, we are family. Buenas noches, Diego.”
*
As always, night brought vivid memories that colored her thoughts. She listened to the frogs and the occasional sharp crack of an almond as it struck the roof of the kitchen beyond her open window. Who would have known such a small nut came in such a large shell?
It seemed to her that men were much the same. The outside hid too much of the man. Diego was subtler than Geoff had ever been. If Geoff had wanted from her what Diego wanted, he would have said, “I want you to be a Catholic and live in Spain and never to beat me at chess.”
Spoken so plainly, it sounded awful, but then, what Geoff had told her so plainly from the beginning hadn’t pleased her, so she had simply ignored it. He had told her in no uncertain terms that he wanted her body but not her heart. She had no one to blame for her suffering but herself.
What would any straightforward, honest man tell her he wanted? Faith, I want you to be yourself? I want your troubled spirit and your confusion? I want your intelligence and compassion? She had never been foolish enough to believe anyone would ever say such words to her. A man from her village would have required her body for begetting heirs and helpers to his business, her skills at the hearth and in the home, her unquestioning devotion
to the church. One of her new neighbors’ sons would demand that she ignore the suffering of the African slaves, look pretty and give him children, attend an Anglican church and behave respectably.
Geoff was right; she made things too complicated. She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted children and a home. What did it matter what church she attended? But she didn’t want to live on a plantation, and she didn’t want to live in Spain. She would have prayed to God for an answer, but it seemed that the last time she had made such a request, He had told her in no uncertain terms to be careful what she prayed for.
She had to admit she was somewhat relieved the next morning, when Diego told them that he must be about his business. That his business was finding and arresting Geoff was a thought she preferred not to contemplate.
Since there seemed to be little chance that Diego would press her toward any kind of commitment on such short acquaintance, she gave in to Elizabeth’s suggestion that she wear an outrageously sumptuous gown to dinner. It was made of glossy black satin with a bodice ornamented by tiny pleats and pearls. The black overskirt parted to reveal an underskirt of white lace set aglitter by silver threads woven throughout. She pinned her hair up, showing to advantage her fine features and high cheekbones, and atop the simple style sat a small cap of black lace and pearls. The deep, square neckline created the perfect setting for Elizabeth’s pearl cross pendant. It rested against skin that rivaled the gems their creamy smoothness.
It had seemed a harmless indulgence until she saw Diego’s reaction. His face lit with unrestrained pleasure, and he rushed to greet her at the door to the dining room.
“Why, you look the very essence of a Spanish lady, Faith. All this, just to bid Diego farewell? I am humbled.”
A quick glance in her aunt’s direction affirmed that this was precisely the response Elizabeth had hoped for, and Faith felt foolishly duped. They dined, and Faith found she dared not look up from her plate, for without fail she was the object of Diego’s undivided attention. No matter how she demurred, he insisted she join him on the veranda to enjoy the moonlight after the meal. The lawn was thick with hundreds of dancing lights as fireflies frolicked, and though Faith was painfully aware of the romance of the image, she felt anything but romantic.