Desire in the Sun

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Desire in the Sun Page 34

by Karen Robards


  All male prisoners, regardless of race or offense, were kept in this one large cell. The reason for that was simple: The rest of the gaol, apparently having been damaged in a severe hurricane some years before, was still under repair. Most crimes on Barbados seemed to be linked to what his fellow prisoners called "kill-devil", out of seventeen prisoners he was the only one who. d he ever came to trial, might conceivably hang. The rest, except for a pair of inept thieves who had tried to relieve a lady of her reticule and been beaten half senseless by the very object they'd tried to steal as the lady proved to be a warrior of considerable valor, were an ever-changing lot.

  He had to escape, or he would hang. He existed in daily expectation of being hauled up before whatever passed for justice in this tiny slice of hell, and finding himself facing Leonard Remy. That Lilah's father would exact every bitter drop of revenge from the man who had ruined his daughter Joss had no doubt. He was only surprised that it was taking the man so long to get around to it.

  Whenever he thought of Leonard Remy, he worried. The man had slapped his daughter, and Joss broke into a cold sweat when he considered what he might be doing to her even as he, Joss, lay waiting for his day in court. Would he harm her? His own daughter? The mere thought made Joss feel murderous. But there was nothing he could do to aid her. Not unless he could figure out a way to escape.

  Footsteps approaching along the hard-packed dirt of the corridor brought Joss out of his half-savage revery. The guard had just been changed, and it was hours early for the repulsive dish of raw mashed fish that generally served as breakfast. Perhaps another drunk to be locked up?

  The guards looked up from their card game, squinting as they peered at the newcomers. The stone wall on either side of the barred door prevented Joss from seeing the objects of those narrow-eyed looks.

  "Oh, Hindlay, it's you," one of them grumbled, relaxing. "What the bloody hell do you want now?"

  "I want you to open that cell damned quick," came a growl, and four uniformed members of the militia were herded into view, held at gunpoint by half a dozen rough- garbed sailors.

  Joss blinked, grinned suddenly, and got to his feet. Another inmate woke up, saw what was happening, and ya-hooed.

  "It's a bleedin' jailbreak," he whooped, and ran for the door that the scowling guard had just opened. Awakened by his cry, those who weren't too drunk followed. Joss, the only one wearing shackles due to the seriousness of his crime, made his way toward the door a little more laboriously. He stopped before the seething guard, holding out his arms wonllessly. The guard, gritting his teeth, unlocked the shackles on wrists and ankles.

  "I thank you, sir," Joss said, and smiled as the guards were roughly bound, tied, and pushed into the cell that he was vacating. His yellow-haired rescuer turned the key in the lock, then nonchalantly pocketed it.

  "Good evening, Jocelyn." David Scanlon inclined his head with exquisite courtesy. The sailors with him saluted Joss with varying degrees of punctiliousness.

  "Good to see ya, Cap'n."

  " 'lo, Cap'n."

  "Good to see you, too, Stoddard, Hayes, Greeley, Watson, Teaff. Davey here got you up to no good as usual?"

  The men grinned. "Aye, sir."

  "Speaking of no good, my friend…" Davey was herding them all with quick efficiency from the now guardless gaol as he spoke. "That appears to be exactly what you've been up to since we last met."

  "My late lamented career as a horse thief, you mean? Not quite what it was made out to be, believe me." Joss clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming so quickly, Davey."

  "You're entirely welcome, of course." Davey was looking around with his usual caution before he nodded to the others. Then, with Joss beside him and the rest following, he strolled cooly toward the open gates of the fort. "Actually, I wasn't referring to that. I was referring to your quite unprecedented action in dishonoring our who was obviously, before she met you, an innocent young lady."

  Joss stopped walking, stared at his friend, stiffened. "Lilah-you've seen her?"

  Davey inclined his head. "More than seen her, my friend. She appeared on the Lady Jasmine about two hours ago, obviously in some distress. She told me where to find you."

  Joss ignored all but the relevant part of that. "What do you mean, obviously in some distress? What's wrong with her? Where is she now?"

  "Still on the Lady Jasmine, in the captain's cabin, to be exact. I'm sorry to tell you that she seems to be in the process of losing your baby."

  LXIII

  Standing braced on the deck of the Lady Jasmine, Joss watched with something less than his usual appreciation as her sails filled with wind and she quartered toward the mouth of Bridgetown Harbor. Not even the rainbow of pinks and purples that were all that was left of the fading dawn had the power to lift his spirits. There was a hollowness deep inside him that he feared would never go away.

  At that moment Lilah was in his cabin. Macy, the ship's doctor, was with her. In the brief glimpse he'd had of her before Macy barred him from the room, she'd been writhing and moaning in pain. He'd been white himself when Davey had dragged him away.

  Now he wrestled with hideous fear. Would she die? If she did, he would want to die himself.

  "You can go in now, Captain."

  Macy had emerged from the cabin at last. Joss took one look at the blood that stained his shirtsleeves and felt his stomach lurch along with his heart.

  "Is she… is she-"

  But he couldn't wait for the answer. Even as Macy tried to tell him, Joss was turning away, striding purposefully to the captain's cabin.

  Inside, the room was shadowy. The promised brightness that was dawn had so far barely penetrated.

  Lilah lay on his bunk, a small mound under a pile of covers. He thought she was asleep. Her eyes were closed, her lashes black fans resting against cheeks that were as white as death.

  He felt his heart turn over. She looked so young, so very small, so defenseless lying there. Only the cropped head of golden curls seemed to belong to the dauntless girl he loved.

  "Lilah?" It was a husky whisper as he approached the bunk. Her eyes slowly opened. For a moment she seemed to have trouble focusing. Then she saw him.

  "Joss," she breathed, and smiled faintly. Then her lips quivered and her face crumpled. "Oh, Joss, I lost our baby!"

  Tears coursed from her eyes to roll down her cheeks like rain. Shaken to the core, Joss dropped on his knees beside the bunk, took her gently into his arms.

  "Don't cry, sweetheart," he whispered tenderly, stroking her hair as she wept. "It tears the heart out of me when you do. Please don't cry, Lilah."

  "I've been so frightened," she murmured. "I've missed you so. Hold me, Joss."

  Joss slid into the bunk beside her, careful not to jar her in any way. She clung to him, never even noticing that he was dirty and half naked and probably smelled. She burrowed her head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck and told him everything, weeping until she had no more tears left. Then she drifted off to sleep.

  Still Joss lay there, holding her slight weight against him, filled with a fierce tenderness the likes of which he had never felt before.

  He stroked her cheek, her hair, kissed the silky top of her head.

  "I've got you safe, sweetheart," he whispered. "I've got you safe now, Lilah my love."

  EPILOGUE

  One year later almost to the day, Katherine Alexandra San Pietro lay in her mother's arms, nursing contentedly as she was rocked sleepily back and forth. Katy, as she was called, was not quite six weeks old and had not yet developed any concept of day and night. Consequently, she was unaware that it was three a.m., or that she was in grave danger of being dropped on her head as her mother nodded and all but fell asleep in the rocking chair.

  "Here, sweetheart, let me take her. You go back to bed."

  Joss's voice roused Lilah enough to prevent Katy from taking a tumble. She blinked, smiled sleepily up at her husband, and allowed him to take the baby. Then she st
umbled back to bed.

  It was broad daylight when Lilah woke again. She opened her eyes to the sun pouring through the bedroom window of the big, comfortable house in Bristol, and realized with a rush of horror that Katy had not wakened her with the chickens as was her wont.

  Had something happened to the baby?

  On that horrible thought Lilah was ready to leap out of bed. Then she heard a contented gurgle and looked around.

  Joss lay beside her, sprawled flat on his back, which was surprising. Her husband usually slept on his stomach, and hogged two-thirds of the bed, too.

  The gurgle came again. It could be his stomach, but she didn't think so.

  Pulling aside the blanket, Lilah had to smile. There, stretched out on her papa's hairy, muscled chest, lay Katy, wide awake and cooing contently as she bobbed her head up and down.

  "Oh, you precious thing." Lilah smiled, leaning down to scoop up the baby.

  "Dare I hope you are referring to me?" Joss was awake after all, Lilah discovered as he opened his eyes and grinned.

  "Certainly," Lilah said obligingly, leaving Katy where she was for a moment longer to plant a kiss on his mustachioed mouth.

  His hand slid behind her head, pulled her mouth down for a heartier sample. Lilah felt the familiar heating of her blood, her hand came up to rest on his chest…

  And Katy promptly howled.

  Joss released her, Lilah sat up, and this time succeeded in picking up the baby.

  "Spoilsport," Joss grumbled to his daughter, hitching himself up against the pillows.

  "But we love you," countered Lilah, smiling at him.

  "And I," said Joss, eyeing his two golden-haired, blue-eyed ladies as they cuddled and cooed on his bed, "love both of you."

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