Lynna's Beau (Tropical Paradise Series Book 2)

by Kitty Margo

  “That would be my fondest desire, Grandmama,” he whispered with his lips against Lynna’s ear.

  Lynna noticed a light shimmering in the older woman’s lavender gaze as her eyes fell to her midsection. She had the unnerving suspicion that Lisbeth was looking for any tell tale sign that Sean could be about to grant her fondest wish. Feeling extremely uncomfortable with the situation, Lynna left Sean’s embrace and moved to gaze out the window onto the bustling town below.

  A very astute woman, Lisbeth recognized immediately that Lynna had battled a long sickness and was on the slow road to recovery. After the introductions were made she took Lynna’s hands. “Did you suffer from sea sickness on the journey here, dear?”

  Lynna shook her head, not sure exactly what she had suffered from. She was confused by Sean’s erratic behavior, and wanted nothing more than to lie down on a soft bed and sleep for days and days.

  “No, Grandmama,” Sean answered upon noticing that Lynna’s mind was occupied elsewhere. “Apparently, a voodoo priestess put a curse on Lynna.” Moving to a sideboard set against the wall, he poured a healthy shot of rum into a glass. “She is much improved now compared to what she was a month ago.” Tipping his head back to drain the contents of the glass, he continued. “Growing up, I never put much stock in all the obeah nonsense on this island, but to tell the truth, there were times on the ship when I honestly didn’t think Lynna would live to see another day.”

  “I see,” Lisbeth shook her head sadly. She had seen the effects of a wasting spell before. Some white folks didn’t believe in obeah, but she knew better. Living as she did on a Caribbean island, she had seen the effects too often. “Sean, if you will show Lynna to her room, I’m sure she would like to rest before dinner.” It was obvious that the girl needed to lie down in a bed before she dropped on the spot. It looked as if every ounce of blood had drained from the dear girl’s pale face.

  “Right this way, Madame.” Sean grinned lasciviously and winked. “As always, I am your humble servant.”

  Lynna smiled wanly. “Stop teasing me.”

  “Me? Innocent of all charges,” he joked, taking her hand and placing his other hand on the small of her back. “After dinner, where my grandmama will undoubtedly inquire as to the entire history of your life,” Sean paused to wink at his grandmother, “perhaps we can sit on the verandah before you retire.”

  “I would love to.” Lynna turned her head, breathing deeply of a most wonderful pungent aroma being carried through the open window on a gentle breeze. “What is that delicious smell?”

  “Cacao,” Lisbeth answered, taking her hand, attempting to make it look as though they enjoyed chatting with her rather than feeling the need to assist her up the stairs. “Or you may be more familiar with the term cocoa. It’s what chocolate drinks are made from.”

  “You grow chocolate here?” Lynna couldn’t hide the astonishment in her voice as she paused halfway up the stairs to rest. “You mean here on the island you… can have all the hot… chocolate you desire?”

  “Well yes, but it’s typically warm here and I personally don’t care for hot drinks. We prefer to drink our chocolate cold, in milk. Chocolate milk.”

  “Chocolate milk,” she murmured. “Why, I never heard of such a thing. I would like to try it. I’ve never had cold chocolate.”

  “It’s a treat, dear. I’m sure you will become quite as addicted to it as we are. Now, here we are at your room.” Lisbeth cast a concerned glance toward Sean. “Poor thing, you are completely out of breath. But don’t you worry. The island will heal you.”

  “Try to rest, Lynna,” Sean dropped a tender kiss on her brow as he turned to leave. “I will be downstairs if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Sean.” She turned to peer into his hazel eyes. “For everything.”

  “My pleasure, love.” Sean bowed before exiting the room.

  Lynna was led into a blue room with a large canopied bed and flimsy lace curtains overlooking a spectacular view of the sea. “It’s so beautiful here.”

  “Yes, it is,” Lisbeth agreed, gazing out across the fields with an ample dose of pride gleaming in her eyes. “I have always loved the view from this window. Spread out before you are some of the most feted cacao fields in the world, Lynna. But the island has other treasures as well. When you have a chance to explore our jewel of the Caribbean, you will discover many breathtaking sights. Just wait until you see the orchids. You have never seen a more beautiful flower and we have several hundred varieties of every color imaginable.”

  She turned from the window to find Lynna almost asleep on her feet. “Sean will most likely be too busy to take you on a tour tomorrow, since the cacao is being harvested. After the harvest you can discover all the breathtaking scenery our tropical paradise has to offer.”

  “I look forward to it.” Unable to remain on her feet another second, Lynna yawned, and lay down on the inviting bed to rest her head for just a moment. “I’m sorry, please forgive me, but I tire so easily.”

  “Don’t worry, dear. The warm sun and tropical breeze will renew your energy. Just be patient and give it time to work.”

  “Thank you for your kindness, Lisbeth.” Yawning, Lynna cradled her hands under her head. “By the way do you have breadfruit trees?” she mumbled sleepily. “I would love to have a loaf of bread made from breadfruit. I have missed it.”

  “Breadfruit is plentiful here as well as any number of citrus trees.” Lisbeth smiled obviously proud to be a resident of Trinidad. “I will leave you to rest while I go in search of my wayward grandson. He has been gone far too long this time and I have missed him dearly.” She turned and smiled over her shoulder at Lynna. “I will see you downstairs at seven.” But Lynna was fast asleep.

  “Hopefully, my dear grandson’s wanderlust has subsided and he now has a reason to remain on the island,” Lisbeth whispered as she closed the door behind her.

  After her bath a few hours later, Lynna donned her blue dress with drop sleeves and row upon row of ruffles on the skirt, and secured her hair off her neck. Feeling refreshed, she sent up a silent prayer for the energy to make it through the meal with Sean and his grandmother.

  Sean was waiting at the foot of the stairs with a grin playing across his handsome features. “Good evening, lovely lady. I trust you rested well.”

  “Yes, I did. Very well indeed. I was only awakened once by a strange bird screeching outside my window and wondered for a few seconds why my bed wasn’t rocking beneath me.”

  “Your land legs will return in a few days.” When she reached the bottom of the stairs, he took her hand and escorted her into the dining room. “Until then someone will always be nearby should you need assistance. All you need do is ask.”

  They dined on pelau, rice mixed with pork and various local vegetables, and calaloo, a green, leafy vegetable that was cooked and combined with taro, dasheen, okra, pumpkin, and crab.

  The house was immaculate, the meal was superb, and the fields were supposedly world renowned. Lynna wondered how one woman could run such a vast operation alone. “Lisbeth, how long have you operated the plantation?”

  “I will be happy to answer all your questions, dear, but first a tiny tidbit of history.” She cleared her throat, looking as professional as if she were a teacher in front of her class. “Christopher Columbus discovered the island of Trinidad on July 31, 1498 and named it Trinidad in honor of the Holy Trinity.”

  “Grandmama is not at peace until all visitors to our island know this important fact.” Sean winked at his grandmother.

  “Now you asked how long I have operated the plantation. Let’s see, my family has maintained this plantation for almost a quarter century, since 1780. I have been the sole owner of Devereux Acres for the past forty years.”

  “Don’t make her ask, Grandmama,” Sean teased. “Tell her about the cacao you grow here.”

  “If you insist.” Lisbeth gave her grandson a nod then turned to her guest. “Trinidad cacoa is much sought after because of
its high quality, fine flavor, and distinctly fruity taste. It has often been described as having a mildly floral, almost winey taste. Trinidad cacoa is more valuable than sugar if you can believe that. Cacao literally means ‘food of the gods’ and Trinidad cacao is the best of the best.”

  Sean couldn’t help but grin. “In your humble opinion, right Grandmama?”

  “In anyone’s opinion that has ever tasted it,” Lisbeth returned smugly.

  “But I didn’t notice any slaves working the fields.” This puzzled Lynna. A plantation of equal size in the South would require a thousand or more slaves. “Who supplies the labor for such a large plantation?”

  “With the abolition of slavery in 1838 plantation owners on Trinidad were left scurrying for other labor sources. Europeans came, but they could not withstand the heat in the cacao fields. In 1845 the first ship of Indian laborers arrived on the island. Hired as indentured labor, the workers were obviously from the poorest class of people. They undertook the three-month journey here with the understanding that after their five-year work stint was over, they could re-indenture themselves or return to India.”

  “So they remained here?”

  “Yes, the Indians proved so effective on the sugar cane and cacoa plantations, that in an effort to discourage them from returning home, the colony eventually offered a land grant as an incentive for those who chose to remain here. Many took up the offer and stayed to make new lives here on our island, their adopted homeland. All Devereux Acres labor is Indian labor.”

  As she listened to Lisbeth, Lynna bit into a slice of bread and sighed with unexpected pleasure. “You made bread from breadfruit! Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome, dear. Actually, we have it quite often. It was a favorite of Sean’s when he was a child.” She motioned to one of the servants who rushed over with a tray laden with glasses. “And now for a treat.” Lisbeth placed a glass of brown liquid in front of a hesitant Lynna. “Try it.”

  Lynna did and it was the most delicious drink she had ever tasted. “It’s so rich, and creamy and delicious. What is it?”

  “Chocolate milk. The hot chocolate you are accustomed to is made when chocolate is added to water. Milk makes for a thicker and much better flavor.” Sean and Lisbeth smiled at each other. “I told you. You will be as addicted to the stuff as we are.”

  The sign at the end of the long driveway leading to the plantation read, Welcome to Devereux Acres — Home of the Finest Cacoa. Lynna pointed excitedly when an enormous iguana, at least five feet in length, scurried across the road in front of them followed closely by several grasshoppers. And butterflies were everywhere. Big beautiful butterflies in all hues alighting on the carriage or in the multicolored flowers lining both sides of the road.

  “Here are the cacao trees,” Sean announced with a sweeping gesture. “Grandmama’s pride and joy.”

  Stopping the carriage under the shade of evergreen trees that stood about twenty five feet tall he spread his arms wide to encompass the surrounding acreage then jumped down and helped Lynna carefully to the ground. “Come with me and meet Mister Juarez, our cacao farmer.”

  An elderly white haired gentleman came out of a nearby building, slapping Sean vigorously on the back. “About time you came home. I hope you’re here to stay for a while this time. We could sure use the help around here.”

  Sean laughed and pumped the man’s hand fondly. “Grandmama tells me you are expecting a bumper crop this season.”

  “Sure looks that way.” Mister Juarez shielded his eyes with his hand and looked across the fields stretching as far as the eye could see.

  “This is Lynna.” Sean smiled, tugging her forward in an effort to draw the man’s eyes away from his harvest. “She is interested in learning how you turn a cacao bean into her new favorite drink.”

  “Is she now?” Mister Juarez gave her his full attention, offering his hand. “Well, Lynna, you came to the right place.” Picking up a machete he walked over to a tree and chopped off a large golden colored pod with multi colored flecks. Slicing it in two with the machete he handed Lynna half. Watching him scoop out the pulp with his finger, she did the same and was surprised that the pulp had a mild flavor, acidic, yet sweet. “It looks and tastes almost like a white jelly of some sort.”

  “A ripe pod contains thirty to forty seeds in a cluster, surrounded by a mucilage, or white jelly, as you call it. That jelly is also a favorite of monkeys and parrots. Aggravating varmints.” He glanced up into the trees to see if any of the pesky critters were lying in wait.

  “I’m curious, Mister Juarez,” Lynna wondered aloud. “Why is the cacao grown here better than the cacao grown anywhere else?”

  Sean leaned back against the carriage grinning and mumbled as an aside, “You had to ask?”

  Mister Juarez straightened his shoulders, eager to impart his vast knowledge of cacoa farming to a newcomer to the island. “Well for starters, cacao only grows in a humid, tropical climate that never drops below 60 degrees. Trinidad has ideal weather for the cacao to grow. Then you must nurture the cacoa tree, for it is very delicate and will only thrive when there are regular and abundant rains and rich soil, which we are fortunate enough to have.”

  Mister Juarez peered across the expansive acreage and continued, “Young cacoa trees are particularly vulnerable. Since they cannot withstand direct sunlight or wind, they are initially planted in the protective shade of banana or rubber trees. For this reason these trees are often referred to as ‘mothers of cacoa’. As you may have noticed, we are blessed with plenty of these trees on the island. So, you see, Trinidad is ideal for growing cacao beans.”

  “Now I understand why there are so many banana trees on a cocoa plantation.” Lynna shielded her eyes as Mister Juarez had done to look out across acres of cacao trees.

  “Come take a closer look at a cacao pod,” Mister Juarez suggested.

  Lynna found that the cacao pods grew directly from the trunk of the tree rather than hanging from a branch and were a variety of colors from the golden with multi colored flecks to red, purple and yellow. The ripe pods were anywhere from four to twelve inches long and shaped like a large melon, pointed on both ends.

  She watched as donkeys with panniers on each side trudged up and down the mountain from field to shed delivering the cacoa beans. Turning back to Mister Juarez, he continued with his tour. “Each tree produces fifty to sixty pods a year yielding fifteen to twenty pounds of beans. It takes around four hundred beans to make one pound of chocolate.”

  Lynna was shocked that it took so many beans to make a block of chocolate. “I never knew so much time and effort went into making my morning cup of hot chocolate.”

  “Cacao is a labor intensive crop. You see, once harvested from the trees the pods are opened and the seeds are removed.” While he talked they walked to an area of several large raised vats of about twenty feet by twenty feet with retractable roofs. A man walked around the vat stirring the beans with a long pole. “The process of fermentation itself produces heat so we must stir the beans occasionally.”

  Lynna wrinkled her nose. The wet beans certainly didn’t smell like chocolate to her. In fact, they smelled more like dirty socks.

  Mister Juarez continued, “At the end of the five day process the beans become brown and the bitterness subsides, that’s when the flavor develops.”

  “So, after the beans are fermented you have chocolate?”

  Mister Juarez chuckled. “If only it were that simple, my dear. Come, I will show you the dried beans.”

  They walked behind the shed to a cleared area where the beans were spread out in a thin layer. “No, after fermentation the beans still contain too much water to be turned into chocolate. So the beans are spread out on the ground in the sun to dry for about fourteen days. After drying, the beans are carefully inspected and separated, to assure they adhere to Devereux Acre’s high standards, before being submitted to grinding. Improperly fermented beans can ruin a batch of chocolate.”

  �
��What a waste that would be.” Lynna breathed the delicious aroma. The dried beans smelled more like the decadent chocolate she was accustomed to.

  “Exactly,” Mister Juarez agreed having seen it happen a few times over the years. “Next the dried beans are roasted to enhance the flavor and make the next step of winnowing easier.”

  “What is winnowing?”

  “Winnowing is the process of taking the shell off the bean. What is left is the ‘nib’ or the most desired part of the bean. We grind the nib between two stones to produce a liquid called cacao liquor. This liquor is then pressed into blocks and with the addition of sugar, chocolate is made.”

  After a quick tour of the fields, Lynna gave Mister Juarez a hug and bestowed upon him her most charming smile. “Thank you, this has been a very enlightening experience. I could not have asked for a more knowledgeable teacher and I certainly have a better understanding of my new favorite drink now.”

  Mister Juarez returned Lynna’s hug with gusto and beamed over her shoulder at Sean, giving him the thumbs up sign. The little lady would make a grand addition to the Devereux family. He had been about to release her when suddenly Lynna drew in a sharp breath and began vigorously massaging her temples. Leaning against him for support, she dropped her hands to clutch his shirt as if she were afraid she might fall to the ground if she turned loose. He could feel her rapid heartbeat fluttering against his chest and was alarmed by the perspiration beading her brow on such a cool, overcast day.

  Exchanging a worried glance with Sean, Mister Juarez held Lynna close until Sean could take her in his arms and lift her into the buggy. Climbing up beside her, Sean put his arm around Lynna and turned toward her so she could lean against his shoulder comfortably. “What is it, Lynna?”

  “My head!” she cried. “The pain is excruciating.” Her hand flew to her mouth as nausea boiled in her throat. “I’m going to be sick!” Then, as humiliating as it was, Lynna leaned over the side of the carriage and lost her lunch. Ashamed, and not having the strength to hold her throbbing head up a second longer, she wiped her mouth on the handkerchief Sean handed her and stretched out on the seat to lay her head on his hard thigh as every muscle in her body went limp.