The Merchant's Yield

by Lorri Dudley

  She wound her arms around him and savored the power encased in his broad shoulders. The growth of his beard tickled her skin, but she reveled in it. She clung to his strength, yet at the same time, absorbed his vitality until she was uncertain where she stopped and he began. Her own eager response surprised her.

  He pulled away, and the cool night air slapped her face. She blinked as the haze of her desire cleared, leaving behind an aching need.

  His hands captured the sides of her face, and he rested his forehead against hers. She could feel his chest heaving and the pounding of his heart.

  It matched her own. Their breath mingled with the mist of the night air.

  “Lottie.” His voice was a husky whisper.

  It was the first time she’d heard him use her nickname.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  A sprinkle of unease prickled her, but how could anything be amiss while he cradled her in the warmth of his embrace?

  His arms fell away, and he stepped back.

  She swallowed hard, hating the alarm sounding in her head. She had acted as a wanton woman. Was he put off? Did she disappoint? Lottie rubbed her arms to ward off the chill that crept into her bones. She stepped away, and her foot connected with something. A wooden pole whacked her in the back of her head. “Ouch.”

  His hand shot out and caught the pole before it fell. He flashed her a lopsided smile, “You all right?”

  She rubbed the smarting spot until his hand covered it.

  Nathan leaned in and dropped a brotherly kiss on her brow. “I’ll speak to Charlie about putting the mop and bucket away first thing tomorrow.” His hand lowered and encircled her waist. He escorted her in the direction of her cabin.

  “In the next few days, we’ll be drawing close enough to spot land.” After that kiss, how could he suddenly shift to speaking of something so mundane? Or maybe this was part of the something he had to tell her.

  Footsteps sounded, and Nathan stopped as the night crewmen inspecting the lines passed. Nathan’s face darkened in the shadows, and the crease between his brows returned. Lottie tugged on the folds of her skirt, unable to tear her gaze away from the taut face that moments ago offered her a glimpse of paradise.

  “Certain things have transpired in St. Kitts.” He continued their walk. “Things that were set into place before our encounter.”

  He still thought of their first meeting as an unfortunate encounter? She swallowed around the lump forming in her throat.

  “Emotions ran high in London. I didn’t thoroughly recognize or weigh the consequences. I’m beginning to understand the danger, but it’s too late. We’re married.”

  She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. Indeed, their marriage had been forced, but in the last few weeks, a fondness had developed between them. And what about the kiss they’d shared only moments ago? Pain tore through her heart as if he’d physically ripped it in two with his bare hands.

  “I know now, I not only need to protect you from risks of living on an island, but also from the perils of being with me.”

  “Perils?” The word slipped out before she had a chance to debate her best response.

  “You trust too openly and believe the best of people, but there’s evil out there. I’ve seen it. I…I was young…” He closed his mouth and shook his head. “It’s difficult to explain.”

  He guided her below deck, and she trailed to fit within the narrow corridor to her cabin. She struggled to order the burgeoning mountain of questions rising in her mind.

  He stopped at the door to her cabin, not opening it as he usually did.

  A lock of hair fell over her eye.

  He raised a hand as if to brush it away, but hesitated. His fingers closed and dropped back to his side.

  She tucked the loose strand behind her ear.

  “Try to understand.” His lips narrowed into a thin line. “I’m doing what I believe is in your best interest. When we reach St. Kitts, which shall be in the next few days, you’ll stay at the Cockleshell Inn.”

  “What?” She searched his eyes for a reason but the dim light shadowed his face. “Why?”

  “My home is in no condition for a gentlewoman. It was partially destroyed by a hurricane a few years ago. I had planned to expand and renovate it, but there was no rush. I didn’t expect to marry.”

  “Where do you plan for us to reside?”

  “I’ll remain at Calico Manor, my plantation, for there is much work to be done there.”

  “We won’t…?” She hesitated to finish the question. Part of her wanted to throw care to the wind, wrap her arms around her husband, and beg him to make her his wife in every sense of the word. Heat rushed into her cheeks at such wanton thoughts. Did she really want to subject herself to more rejection?

  He continued as if not hearing her. “The inn is owned by the captain and his wife. Mrs. Fielding and Franny will see to your every whim, and I’ll frequently visit until better arrangements can be made. Do I have your agreement?”

  She hesitated. It sounded like a terrible idea. She didn’t expect the same luxuries as London. She’d be happy to sleep on a pallet on the floor as long as he was by her side, but the vulnerability haunting the shadows of his eyes stopped her from saying as much. She wanted to make him happy, and she could do so with one little word. “Yes.”

  The boyish relief in his expression coaxed a shy smile from her lips. His eyes flashed before his mouth lowered and brushed her lips with a kiss.

  “Sweet dreams,” he whispered before his hands gently tilted her head. He bestowed a brotherly peck on her forehead. His smile broadened, then he turned and strolled away.

  Her lips tingled from the fleeting kiss, but the imprint on her brow pressed down like a anchor. If she never received another brotherly peck on the head, she’d be all the better for it.

  “Land ho!” shouted a sailor from the crow’s nest.

  All heads swiveled toward the low-hanging strip of cloud on the horizon, and cheers sounded. As the ship drew closer, the spot tinged a bluish-green and began to appear more like land and less like a puff of mist. The men struck up a lighthearted ditty, and Charlie and Cobble even danced a little jig. Their enthusiasm grew contagious, and Lottie found herself staring into the horizon dreaming of the freedom of island life. At the same time, her stomach twisted.

  Lottie resumed her usual spot next to Cobble and took up her sewing. After an hour or so, she noticed the men weren’t at their stations. Instead, they stood in line as Baby draped one in what looked like an old sail and wrapped their faces in a steaming towel.

  “Merciful heaven, what is going on?” she asked.

  Cobble smiled. “A bunch of lovesick men are gettin’ all cleaned up and groomed to impress their lady-loves.”

  Baby sharpened a double-edged razor on a pumice stone in quick swipes. Charlie unwound the towel over the captain’s face and applied shaving soap in a lather. Lottie held her breath as Baby, with his big hands, tilted the captain’s chin up and slowly dragged the razor down the side of his face. Charlie switched to holding a bowl full of water, in which Baby swished the razor to clean off the soap and hair.

  Lottie turned to Cobble. “Where did Baby learn the barbering trade?”

  “His papa was a barber,” Cobble said. “But his brother assumed the business. It was all the better because, like most of us, Baby holds a restless spirit. Can’t stay in one spot fer too long. Comes in handy though. We pride ourselves on being the best-lookin' seamen in the Islands.” Cobble ran his hand over his beard.

  “Are you getting a shave also?”

  “Naw, no reason to now that my Marie’s not around. I’ll get a trim if there’s time, but I let the young bucks go ahead of me. It’s a tradition. As soon as the words, ‘Land ho!’ are uttered on our ship, the men jump in line to get their beards trimmed or shaved. Their wives will be seein’ them for the first time in months. Keeps the flames of love burning brighter. Gator encourages it too. He believes a
good woman will help keep riff-raff and horseplay off his ship.” Cobble winked at her. “He’s right too. Nothing like a good woman to make a man think twice about starting trouble.”

  “Good morning.”

  A clean-shaven Nathan stepped up beside them. Lottie smiled at the change in his appearance. Even though she’d grown accustomed to the growth of his beard, the clean lines of his jaw accentuated his handsomeness.

  “You like it?” He rubbed a hand over his strong chin.

  “I do, indeed.”

  A broad smile broke over his features. His eyes danced as they held hers.

  Lottie returned his smile, but it felt bittersweet. In her periphery, she saw Cobble staring at them.

  Nathan noticed it too and sent him a sideways glance. “What, Cobble?”

  Cobble’s eyes disappeared into a wrinkled grin so wide his lips almost touched his ears. He shook his head and licked his lips, but it didn’t erase his expression. “’Tis nothing. Reminds me of my Marie, and the way we used to look at each other, is all.”

  Lottie’s heart sank. Theirs was nothing like Marie and Cobble’s marriage. Cobble had loved his wife dearly. Her dream of nightly dinners and reading the morning paper with her loving husband was slowly dying. She’d longed to manage the household by his side, but Nathan didn’t want her near. He’d made that clear with his plan.

  Nathan crossed his arms. “Don’t you have something you should be fixing right now?”

  Cobble winked at Nathan. “I’ll let you two be. There’s much to discuss before we weigh anchor.”

  Nathan leaned his hip against a barrel and watched Cobble swagger off.

  Lottie swallowed. She and Nathan finally held a tenuous bridge of peace between them, but it could collapse at any moment. Would being on land help or hurt what they’d established?

  “As you can see, we’re close to reaching St. Kitts. I’m certain you’ll be thrilled to step foot on land.”

  “I was just beginning to get my sea legs.”

  He chuckled. “I admit these last few weeks, your coloring has been a little less green.” His eyes dropped to the wooden deck planks. “There’s another thing I’d like to ask of you before we weigh anchor.”

  Impassive gray eyes honed in on her, and his arms crossed in a brusque demeanor. How did he switch from the teasing playful man who gave her hope, into the cool-eyed merchant who saw everything as a business transaction? Exhaling slowly, she fought to quell the alarm churning in her chest and raising the fine hairs on her arms.

  “I want you to learn from Mrs. Fielding. She’s a good woman to emulate. Strong, yet biddable. You’ll like her. She and the captain are a love match, but I don’t expect that.”

  The wind fled from her sails, leaving her heart hanging limply in the doldrums.

  “She’ll instruct you how things are on the island, and what you’ll need to know to help run a plantation. It will be good for her to teach you how to avoid the riffraff of the island. You tend to see the good in everything and everybody, but there is evil on the island, including improper men who don’t know how to treat a lady.”

  “When will I see you?”

  “I’ll ride into town every other day to join you, Fielding, and Mrs. Fielding for dinner if I’m not at sea.”

  “How often are you at sea?”

  “I have some trade dealings in South America. So I’ll sail out on my other ship, the Amory, when it comes into port in a few weeks.”

  They could have only a few weeks?

  “It will give you time to adapt to island life,” he said. “It’s not as long of a voyage. If all goes well, I’ll be back in under a month.”

  Once again, she was a bird being thrown out of its nest. “I see,” she said, but she didn’t.

  “It’s best to get one’s bearings slowly. All will be well.”

  She gulped down the rejection that clogged her throat.

  “Go and ready your things. By afternoon, we’ll be on land.”

  Chapter 13

  We have safely arrived. Have an account of the ledgers ready upon my arrival.

  ~ Missive sent by Winthrop to Mr. Marcus Tallant, overseer of Calico Manor

  Lottie waved farewell to the crewmembers she’d grown so fond of and, as they disembarked the ship, she made them promise to call upon her before they set sail again. She stayed above deck, staring at the luscious, green mountain tops resting in the background like a sleepy dragon curled up on a turquoise blue mat for a nap. Its smoky breath collected about its humped back in a ring cloud. Was it a friendly dragon accepting her as one of its children? Or would it rear its head and char her to bits along with her future dreams?

  In contrast to the peaceful landscape, stood the hustle and bustle confusion of the docks. Bright, colorful storefronts graced the center of Basseterre. She’d seen dark-skinned Africans before, but not in such a large quantity. The lilt of the French-creole accents drifted past her ears. The strangeness of it all tightened her throat and squeezed the air from her lungs.

  Nathan stood below on the main deck, his jacket tossed over a barrel beside him. The breeze ruffled his hair and billowed his shirt across his broad shoulders. He issued a command to a slave, who then rolled a hogshead of flour toward a dinghy. Nathan had said he needed to ensure their precious cargo arrived intact, and she was to go below deck and rest up. It would be a while before he’d attended to everything, and then he would disembark with her.

  Yet she couldn’t pull her eyes away from him in action. He wore confidence in every action, as well as the ease with which he controlled the group of men before him. Strangers bartered to buy his goods or for him to transport their hogsheads of sugar on to other countries for sale.

  A stout man who wore buckled shoes and white stockings in a fashion from her parent’s youth yelled out a price he’d pay now and another sum upon when Nathan’s ship delivered his goods.

  Her husband shook his head and called out a higher amount.

  “Devil take it. How’s a planter to make a profit at that cost?”

  “Mr. Montgomery,” Nathan hollered, “you may take your cargo elsewhere, but I’m willing to pay for the entire shipment now in full. No more waiting to see if the ship completes its voyage. No more hearing merchants tell you one-third of your shipment didn’t arrive intact.”

  Mr. Montgomery straightened and his scraggly eyebrows lifted. He pointed his cane at Nathan’s chest. “You mean to tell me you’ll pay for all of the barrels in full before it sails?”

  “Indeed, sir. We’ll need to inspect the goods first, and then load it on the ship before the next sail.”

  Mr. Montgomery lowered his cane and shook Nathan’s hand, pumping it with much enthusiasm. “By Jove, we have a deal.”

  “Speak to my man, Charlie, and he’ll ensure there’s room aplenty for your cargo.”

  Charlie stood by Nathan’s side, tracking the inventory.

  Occasionally, Nathan glanced her way. A pleased expression teased the corners of his mouth. Did that mean he enjoyed having her here? The thought warmed her more than the tropical sun and sparked a sense of hope. Maybe he could come to appreciate her, and over time even love her?

  The afternoon sun shone brightly as Nathan finally waved off the planters and told them to come back the next day. Lottie assumed it was time for them to make their way off the ship, so she descended the steps to the main deck. A refreshing breeze whipped up, tugging her bonnet until it dangled loosely by its strings down her back.

  One of the islanders elbowed another man, their tanned faces gawking at her. Nathan followed their gazes.

  She froze under such scrutiny, and her fingers clutched the folds of her gown. But, it was Nathan’s scowl that rooted her feet to the spot.

  One man whistled a shrill, high pitched sound. “Look at her hair. It’s brighter than a Caribbean sunset.”

  Her fingers squeezed the material of her dress tighter to refrain from hastily covering her head. She should have powdered it. Her mother wa
s right. It was improper to have a mane so red.

  “Name da price fer tat bit of goods.” A mess of long greasy hair poked out from under the man’s straw hat. “I’ll pay da profits of a year’s worth of sugar fer a chance wit da lady.”

  Nathan jerked the man up by his shirtfront. “You insult the lady. Now be on yer way, and don’t step foot on my ship or…” His words trailed off, and his gaze flicked in her direction. “I won’t be doing business with the likes of you.” He shoved the man away.

  The long-haired man backed up, his hands in the air. “I’m not lookin’ fer a floggin’. I didn’t mean any harm, gov’ner.”

  “Off with you now. All of you.”

  The men filed into a dinghy, each stealing backward glances at Lottie as if they’d never seen a woman with red hair before.

  He rounded on her. “You should be below preparing your things.”

  The height of the steps held her at eye level with his blazing glare. She gripped the railing to keep herself from turning to flee. There was nowhere to hide on the quarter-deck. Besides, it was his ship. Where could she go?

  She would not cower.

  She fought to keep the quiver from her voice and raised her chin. “My things are ready. Franny is seeing that they are delivered properly to the inn.”

  “And you didn’t go with her?”

  “I thought you might want to be the first to show me the island.” The words came out strong, and perhaps they held a bit of challenge.

  He rubbed his chin. “Indeed.” Resting his hands on his hips, he surveyed the landscape. His shadow blocked the sun and her view of the island. He sighed and focused again on her. “I apologize. You’ve been very patient.”

  Lottie’s tension leaked out with his admission. She retied her bonnet tighter under her chin.

  He shrugged on his jacket, donned his hat, and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  She slid her hand into his crook, inhaled a deep breath, and nodded, ready to see the new place she would call home.