by Kitty Margo
Sean’s open mouth pressed against the side of her throat, then his head dipped to nuzzle the fragrant valley between her breasts, moaning softly. His hands shook as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her toward him. Then he had her where she belonged, in his arms, and his lips lowered to hers, demanding, urging her lips apart. “Lynna darling, I don’t know how much longer I can be expected to wait for you. I am almost crazed with my desire for you. Please end this torture for me!”
Lynna felt his hands tremble against her shoulder and heard the breath catch in his throat when his hand moved to caress her breast. Why didn’t she just give in to Sean? She was no longer a virgin saving herself for her wedding night. She had married the only man she would ever love and now he was dead. She had finally accepted the fact that Joshua would never return to her.
Lynna wanted her son with her and the only way to make that a reality was with Sean’s assistance. He would be good to her and Beau and she loved Lisbeth as if she were her very own grandmother. Now that she had taken the time to think back over the last several weeks, she realized that she was perfectly content on the magnificent island of Trinidad.
So what was she holding out for? Why did the thought of another man’s hands on her body almost make her physically ill? Perhaps the feelings she had for Sean would grow in time, but if not she could still be a good wife to him. All that mattered was he take her home to her son and she vowed to do whatever was necessary to see it done. With this resolution firmly fixed in her mind she allowed herself to relax in his arms. His tongue had just entered her mouth to plunder every crack and crevice when the driver shouted, “Company coming!”
Lynna glanced down at her nearly nude body, cried out, and scurried out of the water. She practically leapt into the carriage, followed closely by Sean, scooping up clothes as he went. They both fell back on the seat laughing hysterically at the near disaster. “That was entirely too close.” She laughed, drawing the cape across her see through chemise. “I almost gave the residents of this town something to talk about for a long, long time.”
“It certainly was.” Sean shook his head sadly. Damn his luck to hell! “Some lucky man almost got an eyeful.”
They were quiet on the ride back to the hotel, each deep in thought with their own version of what might have been. Lynna pulled the cape tighter around her and tied it as they neared town. Sean pulled on his clothes, then bent to slip on her shoes.
Gathering the dreadful swimsuit in a bundle he wished fervently that his hands could be around the neck of the tourist with undoubtedly the worst timing ever.
Sean had promised Lynna a tour of the city before dark. Yet he was unable to enjoy the sights as they walked the busy streets, stopping often at bustling shops where he purchased every frippery Lynna’s eyes lingered on for longer than a few seconds. With swaths of delicate laces, colorful bows, shiny ribbons, and a simply divine new hat, they returned to the hotel.
Sean longed for the day to end and the night to begin. They had unfinished business to attend to.
At the evening meal in the hotel restaurant, Sean mentioned they had visited the pitch lake to their server.
“You should take her to the Devil's Woodyard too.”
“Devil’s Woodyard?” Lynna queried.
“Yes, it’s an area populated with mud volcanoes. The locals call it a woodyard because when the mud bubbles and rumbles under the ground it sounds like the devil stacking wood. It’s kind of spooky if you ask me.”
Sean chuckled at Lynna’s confused expression. “Before you ask, a mud volcano is a mound of watery mud or clay, forced out of the earth by gas. These volcanoes can either spew material with a violent force, or be no more than a mild surface upwelling of muddy water accompanied by gas bubbles, which is most often the case.”
“Can we visit the mud volcanos?” Lynna asked, excitedly. “My goodness. Lisbeth was right. Trinidad has so many incredible treasures to discover.”
“Of course we can.” Sean was thrilled to see her bright smile, a sight he didn’t see often enough. “You can have anything your heart desires, Lynna.”
Lynna could tell from the glazed look in his eyes that he wasn’t thinking about mud volcanoes at the moment. Her heart fluttered against her ribs, as she nervously glanced out the window to see the sun sinking low in the sky. It would soon be time to return to their room.
After choosing their dinner from the menu, Sean ordered a bottle of wine with the hope of making her relax. She had seemed tense and worried for the better part of the evening. It was his intention to drown her troubles and make her look forward to the night ahead. He certainly was.
In an effort to bolster her dwindling courage Lynna downed glass after glass of the sweet liquid, releasing a deep sigh as the spirits caused each of her muscles to relax in turn, until she felt totally limp. Closing her eyes she listened to the soothing melody of the band floating across the room, tapping her toe to the beat of the music and sipping her wine. She felt wonderful for the first time in… forever. Why, someone must have replaced the wine with a magic elixir for she had the sudden urge to laugh, and dance, and make this night last forever.
When the server arrived with their food, Lynna took one bite of a delicious seafood dish and pushed her plate away, reaching for the wine bottle.
She closed her eyes, leaning back in the plush chair to enjoy the music as the wine flowed through her veins warming her body from the inside out. After several minutes of quiet meditation, when she opened her eyes again everything in the room was blurry. She gazed across the table at the handsome men grinning at her. Why were there two Seans?
Sean grinned. “I think perhaps you have partaken of enough wine, little one.”
“I think you’re right,” she said, taking another sip.
“Are you ready to retire to our room then?”
“Heavens no! It is much too early to retire.” Stretching her arms over her head in what came off as an extremely sensual gesture, Lynna’s cleavage swelled over the bodice of her dress drawing the rapt attention of every man in the room and stern disapproval from several matrons at nearby tables. “Let’s dance!” Lynna squealed, bouncing excitedly in her chair. “I have not danced since… since the night of the Harvest Ball.”
“I fear you would have trouble walking, love,” he reminded her when she had lowered her arms and he was able to pull his eyes away from the delectable sight of her creamy breasts. “Another time, perhaps.”
“No, I want to dance now!” She stood, having the thought to ask the rather sedate band playing across the room to play a waltz, but had to clutch a chair for support when the room started spinning dizzily around her. “Oh! I seem to be slightly off balance.”
“You seem to be slightly drunk, my love,” Sean corrected.
“Surely you jest!” she shrieked, offended that he would even suggest such a thing. Proper ladies did not get drunk! She sank back down in her chair remembering a night long ago, in another man’s arms, in a cabin on a ship. “But there was… one time when I drank too much wine and...”
“And what?”
Hot, liquid fire raced through her veins as she recalled the first night Joshua had made love to her, remembered clearly when his firm body had filled her near to bursting. A brilliant blush spread up her neck and settled in her cheeks. She touched her lips remembering the taste of his soft, sweet lips on hers. Joshua, my darling, please come back to me.
Sean waved the waitress over and ordered a pot of strong coffee with the intention of sobering the intoxicated girl up. He wanted her wide awake and very attentive for the night he had planned.
He could only stare at her, dismayed and embarrassed by the many curious onlookers glaring at them, when without warning Lynna burst into a fit of noisy sobs. “My husband is dead!” she cried, several notches above her normal volume. “My son is a thousand miles away!”
In Sean’s experience there were three types of drunks. Happy drunks, fighting drunks, and crying drunks. She would have
to be the latter.
“Lynna, love, try to control yourself.” The waitress arrived and poured their coffee with hands that trembled. Sean noticed the poor girl sneaking glances at the rather austere dining room manager who stood in the corner with his arms folded primly across his chest.
Sean added cream and sugar to Lynna’s coffee, the way she liked it, and slid the cup to her. “Here, drink your coffee and calm down before you make a complete spectacle of yourself.”
“I don’t care,” she cried, even louder than before. “My life is over!”
Sean vowed to never again offer the girl anything stronger than lemonade.“Your life is far from over.” He nudged the coffee cup closer to her. “Here, drink your coffee. It will make you feel better.”
“I don’t want to feel better,” she shrieked. “I want my husband and son!” Thus said, she leapt up from the table and staggered toward the door.
Sean made to follow her, but was stopped by the dour manager who informed him in a matter of fact manner that the prestigious Port of Spain Hotel did not allow drunken displays in the dining room. Ignoring the overly pompous man Sean pushed past him, but by the time he reached the door Lynna was nowhere in sight.
Lynna had paused in the middle of the street looking around her, when she spied the docks. Several tall ships were anchored in the harbor. One reminded her of the Windjammer. She even counted sixteen sails. Could it be Joshua? Was he alive? She had made it to the ramp that led up to the tallest ship in the harbor when she spotted a familiar sight. The man was tall with jet black hair. His back was to her as he watched the waves washing on the shore. “Joshua,” she breathed.
A smile brightened the handsome stranger’s face when he turned look at her. “No, lovely lady. But I would be more than happy to change my name for you.”
“That’s quite alright.” Sean grabbed Lynna from behind giving the man a nod of his head. “Keep your given name. I can take it from here.”
“As you wish.” The gentleman tipped his hat jauntily and continued up the ramp to his ship.
“Let’s go back to the hotel, Lynna, and sleep it off.”
“But Joshua’s ship…”
Sean followed her gaze to the harbor, refusing to be jealous of a dead man. Angry that another night was not turning out as he had planned, he snapped, “None of those ships are the Windjammer. Please try to remember that your husband is dead.”
Hearing the vicious words successfully crushed Lynna’s soul. Sean was right. Her husband was dead. He would never return to her. Never be the apple of his mother’s eye again, never tease his sister mercilessly, never hold his son and teach him what every boy needs to learn from his father. Dropping her head in her hands she cried as if her heart was breaking all over again, for it was. Collapsing to the muddy street in anguish, she sobbed until her tears were spent and she gazed up at Sean through red rimmed and swollen eyes.
Gathering the grief stricken girl in his arms, Sean held her close as he carried her back to the hotel. It was the first time he had seen her cry. Perhaps the catharsis would be good for her soul. She needed to release the pent up grief she had held on to so tightly, for so long.
Carrying her to their room, Sean undressed her with quiet efficiency, removing the muddy dress and putting her to bed in her chemise. She was sound asleep and didn’t awaken once. Damn, damn, damn it all to hell and back! He should have ordered the coconut water she requested.
Sean would wager that every drunken sailor in the city was getting lucky tonight, while he sat in a hotel room on his last night in the city twiddling his thumbs. Irritated, he could only shake his head as the enchanting creature softly snored into her pillow. Not to be outdone, with one goal in mind he strode determinedly down the stairs in search of the voluptuous and very agreeable serving wench that had given him a run for his money the night before. After all, it was hardly his fault that Lynna couldn’t hold her wine.
The following morning on the ride to the mud volcano Sean was quiet and brooding. Lynna knew the trip hadn’t gone exactly as he had hoped, especially the nights. He seemed on edge and ready to snap at the least provocation. Lynna had expected him to be in a better humor after hearing him return in the wee hours of the morning and being assaulted by the smell of cheap perfume. She had the sinking suspicion that her current dilemma was about to come to a head.
Deciding to enjoy her surroundings and not borrow trouble, she noticed the landscape was awash with rolling low hills and the earth was so dry it resembled clay and was cracked in places. Yet, it was a peaceful area, calm and quiet as the gentle trade winds blew across the land.
As they drew nearer the grass gave way to dry, grey earth that covered most of the area with cracks in some places larger than Lynna could step across. She noticed several small mounds of grey mud, from a few feet to a few inches in height, some showing evidence of recent activity. Some of the cones revealed fresh ooze, while others had dry caked mud covering them. The occasional cone still bubbled with grey mud that was cool to the touch.
Lynna was riveted as she watched new mud roll down the sides of the small cones and form new layers. “This is amazing,” she marveled.
Sean glanced at her from the corner of his eye, appearing anything but amazed. “I’ve never seen anything like it elsewhere in my travels.” Taking a deep breath, he decided to swallow his anger, or annoyance, or whatever he was currently feeling and tell her what he knew of the area.
“The site got its name after its first eruption a few years ago in 1852. The eruption felled tall trees and shook the entire village. The mounds of mud, with bubbling grey matter oozing out, and the rumbling, hissing sounds terrified villagers. You see, the Amerindians are a superstitious lot and believed that the devil came out of the earth and caused the destruction. Or you can believe, as did our lovely waitress at the hotel, that the name originated when European settlers thought the sound of the gas erupting sounded like the devil stockpiling wood underground to tend his fires.”
Lynna closed her eyes and listened to the rumbling going on beneath the surface. “I tend to believe the second version of the story.”
Coming up behind her, Sean wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “Are you ready to return home, Lynna?”
She leaned her head back against his chest to rest, relieved that his irritation seemed to have passed. At least for the time being. As for the destination, she would like nothing better than to return to Sea Grove, but that wasn’t the home he was referring to. “Yes, Sean, I am ready.”
Two weeks after they returned to Devereux Acres, Lynna looked from the parlor window onto the town below. Carnival had begun and the street was flooded with riotous color. The sound of lively music filled the night air with a palpable excitement and she watched as the revelers threw themselves into a frenzied dance with a fevered pitch.
“If you promise not to tell Grandmama, we’ll sneak out later so you can experience Carnival,” Sean whispered over her shoulder.
“Why, you cannot mean that! Lisbeth seems to believe it isn’t respectable.”
“It might not be respectable,” He chuckled at her appalled expression. “But it is a hell of a lot of fun.”
It only took Lynna a moment to realize that this might be her only chance to experience Carnival. Deciding the gamble was well worth the risk, she turned to Sean with a wicked grin hovering on her lips, “What should I wear?”
“Leave that to me. You are about the same size as one of the kitchen maids. I will borrow a calico dress and a kerchief and with a mask to cover your eyes, you will resemble a typical house servant.” He was eager to join her in the throbbing, sensual atmosphere of Carnival. “I have a farmer’s get up and several masks from previous years.”
Lynna wagged a finger at him. “So this isn’t the first time you have attended Carnival unbeknownst to your grandmother?”
Presenting her with a sly wink, he was gone.
As they made their way through the crowded streets, the fa
st beat and heavy percussion of the music enthralled Lynna. The music thumped in her head and she felt the tempo pounding in her heart. In all her life she had never heard such a rhythmic sound before, not even from the slave quarters back home. “That music. What is it?”
“It’s called calypso,” Sean shouted to be heard above the music. “Trinidad is famous for its calypso and steel drum music.”
It was almost impossible to hold her body still while the music pulsed around her. The urge to ignore the throbbing beat was hopeless and she felt her own body swaying to the pounding of the drums. Lynna saw what looked like somebody’s knees in front of her and gasped, “Oh, look!”
“That is a mocojumby,” Sean informed her when a costumed dancer on stilts walked by bending low to hand Lynna a red hibiscus bloom. Accepting the offering, she thanked him with a radiant smile. Awestruck by the sights and sounds around her, she leaned against the wall of a building trying to take it all in and not miss a minute of Carnival.
Grabbing her hand, Sean said, “Come Lynna, let us chip with the others.”
“Excuse me? Did you say chip?”
Sean laughed uproariously at her baffled expression. “See how the others are walking? Chip means to do a mixture of walking and dancing along with the others in the parade. When the costumed participants dance through the streets to the sounds of calypso it’s called playing mas.”
“What a unique language,” Lynna threw her head back and laughed freely, feeling the sensual music flow through her limbs. She joined the others, mimicking their erotic movement as best she could, following along trying to keep pace with the frenetic partiers.
Carnival was an explosion of music, color, and revelry. Never had Lynna witnessed such a pure abandonment of spirit. The dancers spun until they were left spent and euphoric by the pulsating music. And the spectacular costumes, of all styles and colors, many decorated with beads, feathers, and sequins, were a sight to behold. From elaborate headdresses to a simple cloth across the eyes everyone had on some type of mask. And the music only got louder as they progressed down the street toward the center of town.