Calypso Magic

by Catherine Coulter

  The evening began uneventfully, though Diana noticed that Lyon was quiet, which was most unlike him. She wondered briefly if he were still upset with her for refusing to marry him. No, she thought, he must be relieved, not upset. Harmon served them tripe and bean surprise and for several minutes, Lyon just stared at the pile of yams, coco, dumplings and carrots.

  "This is a West Indian dish?"

  Rafael laughed. "One of their favorites. Been around for the longest time, isn't that right, Diana?"

  "Eat up, Lyon. Soak up the sauce with your dumplings. It is civilized, you know."

  Lyon saw to it that Diana drank several glasses of rich red wine. He saw Rafael eyeing him curiously, and merely smiled.

  It was close to ten o'clock when he and Diana repaired to their cabin. As was her wont, she prepared what he called her nest on the floor. She hadn't shared the bunk with him since the night of the storm.

  "Must you?" he said irritably.

  She looked up at him. "Must I what?"

  "Continue sleeping on that damned floor."

  "Yes, certainly," she said. "You must remember that you were most uncomfortable that one time."

  "Uncomfortable? That particular word doesn't come close to what I felt."

  "Well, there you are. I refuse, Lyon, to be your little amour on this voyage."

  "Perhaps if I promised that you would be my big amour?"

  "You are not amusing. Now ---" She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. He was undressing, in front of her.

  "Can you not wait a moment? Then I can leave you."

  "No," he said, and continued unbuttoning his shirt. "I told you that you needed to accustom yourself to me. It's about time that you did." He shrugged off his shirt and folded it neatly over the back of the desk chair.

  Diana swallowed. "Don't, Lyon."

  He merely smiled at her and began unbuttoning his breeches.

  "Stop! Oh, you are impossible! I think I shall feed you some goatweed."

  "And what is that, pray?"

  "A purge," she said, scrambled to her feet, and dashed out of the cabin.

  "Too late, my dear," he said quietly to the empty cabin. As he eased himself naked between the sheets, he decided he'd best be careful, particularly after tonight. She just might try that goatweed on him. Then he found himself smiling into the darkness. He fully intended to make his little amour feel sensations she'd never dreamed of before. She would spare not a thought for her goatweed once he'd taught her a woman's pleasure. And she could most certainly cease her ridiculous twaddle about not marrying him.

  She came into the cabin, her head down, refusing to glance toward the bunk.

  "I am covered, Diana."

  His voice was rich with laughter but still she did not look at him.

  "Afraid of me, are you?"

  "No, damn you! Now, will you keep your eyes closed?"

  "All right."

  She shot him a wary look, and he yawned.

  "Why don't you brush out your hair?"

  "No."

  Her voice was muffled and he opened his eyes to see her pulling her gown over her head. She turned to look at him and he quickly closed his eyes again. He thought she growled.

  He watched her take off her slippers. He waited, aware of his accelerated heartbeat. She stepped out of her one petticoat. She was wearing now only her linen chemise, that endearing garment reaching only to her knees. Lovely legs, lovely hips. As she reached for her nightgown, he sat up in bed, staring at her.

  He wanted to laugh, then cry. He groaned instead.

  She whipped about, holding her nightgown against her.

  "You miserable bounder, you said you would keep your eyes closed!"

  "I have been done in by nature," he said, his voice a combination of bemusement and chagrin.

  "What are you talking about?"

  How many more days? he wondered. "Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, "that is why married gentlemen keep a little amour tucked away. My eyes are now firmly closed, Diana."

  He suited action to words. Soon the cabin was plunged into darkness.

  "What is this about husbands and tucked-away little amours?"

  "I don't think you want me to tell you."

  "Perhaps it's best that you don't. You will only make me furious with you, I doubt not."

  He sighed deeply.

  "Lyon? What is wrong? Your head doesn't still hurt you, does it?"

  She sounded genuinely concerned and he smiled painfully. "Why don't you tell me some more about the West Indies?"

  "I will tell you a story, a true one, if you will tell me something about yourself."

  "Fair enough."

  She was silent for a moment, then said, "I told you already that many Quakers settled in the West Indies. Well, one of the most famous was Dr. William Thornton, though perhaps he is still alive. In any case, my father knew him, of course. He practiced medicine, ran a plantation on Tortola, and dabbled with architecture. He is the one who designed the new American capitol building in Washington. There, that is my story for tonight."

  Lyon was silent for a moment, then said, "That is interesting. I had no idea. Are there still Quakers in the West Indies?"

  "No. Practically all of them were gone nearly a decade before I was born. 'Tis a pity, for they were known for their compassion, and usually they were more temperate than other landholders. Now it is your turn, Lyon. Tell me something about you, not a story."

  Why not? He thought. After all, a wife should understand her husband. He settled back, pillowing his head in his arms. "I wanted more than anything in my life to join the army and fight Napoleon. When Napoleon broke the Treaty of Amiens back in '03 I was all of seventeen years old and quite ready to run away to serve my king and find glory. Then my father died. A stupid accident. He was overseeing the cutting down of trees when one of them fell on him." He heard her suck in her breath and quickly added, "He died immediately, I was told. It was tragic and I was saddened, but I was also torn with guilt. You see, for the longest time I was furious at him for dying. I was only a boy, but I knew that I was now the Earl of Saint Leven and there were no brothers behind me to take my place were I to fall in battle. My duty was to my name and to my lineage. So I tucked away dreams of glory and learned from my father's steward how to manage my estates."

  "I am sorry, Lyon."

  "It is life, Diana. Compromise never killed anyone. It simply hurt for quite a long time."

  "I am glad you didn't go into the army. I shouldn't like it if you had been killed."

  She wouldn't, would she? Well, that was a proof of sorts of her lack of indifference. "We will never know now."

  "How did you come to know Hawk, the Earl of Rothermere? Lucia told me he was in the army, in the Peninsula with Wellington."

  "We were boys together, then in school. I remember feeling the liveliest envy of him when he bought his commission and left England. At the time he had an older brother, you see. But with life, one never knows, does one?"

  "I suppose that is a profound question."

  "No, not really. How do you feel, Diana?"

  "Feel? About what?"

  "Do you have any physical discomfort?"

  "No. What an odd question! I only drank two glasses of wine, Lyon."

  "I was thinking about your belly."

  "I didn't chew any goatweed either."

  "You are being obtuse, my girl."

  He heard her turn on her pallet. "I do not understand you."

  "Did you have any discomfort yesterday?"

  "No, well, not really," she said honestly, wondering what the devil he was talking about.

  "Ah." Four more days, he thought. It seemed at the moment like a damned decade. It must be very difficult to be a woman on board a ship, confined in such a small space. He supposed that he might as well try to woo her during the next four days.

  "Diana, I truly do not find you at all repellent."

  "Thank you."

  "It must have been awfully difficult
for you in London."

  "You mean you now feel sorry for the poor provincial little female thrust into the midst of such illustrious people?"

  "I am not insulting you. What I meant was that London ways and London people were different from what you were used to. You did quite well."

  "I was very worried about it, indeed, I was chewing my fingernails, but my father told me flatly that he was a gentleman and I was a gentleman's daughter and I should allow no one, not even the Prince Regent, to intimidate me." She chuckled. "Of course I didn't meet the Prince Regent, so I will never know if he would have reduced me to pulp."

  "He is most charming to pretty girls. He would have kissed your fingers and praised your eyebrows."

  "Actually the only person who intimidated me was Aunt Lucia."

  "That old tartar has a kind heart. You mustn't ever forget that. Rest assured that she thinks a great deal of you. After all, she has deemed you worthy enough to marry me."

  "Lyon!"

  He continued smoothly, "Tell me something, Diana. When I pulled up your skirts and laid my hand to your bare bottom, what did you feel?"

  He thought he heard her suck in her breath, but when she spoke, it was calmly enough. "I wanted to murder you, and it hurt."

  "What did you feel when I stopped hurting you?"

  "Just murder."

  "Liar. Do you have any idea what you feel like? You have the softest flesh, the loveliest curve to your ---"

  "Would you please just be silent!"

  "It set my poor masculine brain to thinking. I think Lois, my little amour, you know, was quite aware that I chose her because of her marvelous endowments. Bosomly endowments, that is. But it remains very difficult where you are concerned. Your beautiful bosom or your beautiful backside. I am enamored with both."

  "Lyon, you are not flattering me. You are making me very angry. Now, I am sleepy. Be quiet."

  "May I have a good-night kiss?"

  "If the chamber pot were full, I should be sorely tempted to dash the contents on your head."

  "I suppose that means no?"

  But Diana didn't reply. She was thinking suddenly about his peculiar questions about any pain in her belly. Her eyes widened in the dark and breath hissed out between her teeth. The wretched man knew it was her monthly flow. But how? He'd been watching her undress, obviously. Two and a half more weeks of thisthis chase, with her the cornered fox. Her distress ground to a sudden halt to be replaced with a flash of insight. He had intended to seduce her tonight. She was shaking her head on her single pillow. No, she wouldn't allow that. She couldn't. She had to spike his guns.

  "Lyon? Are you still awake?"

  "Have you reconsidered my kiss?"

  "No. Do you love me, Lyon?"

  She could feel his surprise, his chagrin. There, you bounder! But his silence and obvious disarray hurt her. Keep your voice steady, fool. "Shouldn't a gentleman love a lady he wants to marry?"

  "It has never before been a necessary ingredient, I doubt."

  "Did you love Charlotte? For a while, at least?"

  "I saw her through infatuated eyes. I thought her an angel, the essence of innocence and purity. I saw her as the perfect wife, the perfect countess, the perfect mother to my children. Obviously I was a blind fool."

  "I am sorry she hurt you, but ---"

  "It no longer matters, Diana."

  "It matters if she has made you a cynical creature who does not trust women."

  "I am most fond of women, Diana. I find them quite delightful, in their place."

  "And what is that, pray?"

  "Several places, actually. On their backs, on their sides, on their stomachs, on ---"

  "Shut up! I have nothing more to say to you. Lyon, I would not marry you were you the only male on ---"

  "Please don't finish that trite thought."

  "Nor will I let you seduce me. That was your plan for this evening, was it not?"

  He'd believed himself a bit more subtle. Ah, well. "You are many things, my girl, but not stupid. Ignorant, perhaps. Silly and stubborn, certainly. A witch, doubtless. But not stupid."

  "I won't let you. Come, let us be friends. You will be free of me soon. Please do not attempt to soil my memory of you."

  "Soil? What a repellent notion."

  She started to snore loudly.

  He laughed. "I should have also said that you are never boring, Diana. We will suit well enough, you will see."

  "I will see you to the devil first."

  "My dear girl, do you wish that I trot out all my sterling qualities for your inspection?"

  More snores answered his query.

  Lyon grinned toward her and the snores. "Well, I am most fond of animals and children. I believe during one of your eavesdropping sessions you heard me say that I would be a faithful hound to my wife. It is true. I gamble, but for amusement, that is all. I enjoy the races at Newmarket and Ascot. I am plump in the pocket, which means that you could have most any trinket that pleased you. I am not niggardly. I know that ladies want and expect to be coddled. I would be an excellent coddler."

  He could tell that it was becoming more and more difficult for her to continue the loud snores. He grinned and continued.

  "I am not a rake, though I have kept a mistress since I came to manhood. Nothing unusual in that. I enjoy sports and promise not to become a fat stoat. I don't believe I shall lose my hair, and my teeth are excellent. Perhaps of interest to you --- I am a good lover."

  He heard her snore turn into a snort.

  "All right, an excellent lover, then. It is just that I am prone to modesty."

  The snores stopped suddenly. "Lyon, enough. I don't want or need a coddler. I don't want or need a good or an excellent lover. I simply want to be left alone, to live my life as I wish."

  "And what do you wish, Diana?"

  "I don't want your trinkets!"

  "What do you wish?" he asked again, his voice gentle.

  "Your so-called list of sterling qualities was an exercise in amusement. It is not fair of you to demand what it is I want out of life when you recite such drivel to me, expecting me to be somehow impressed with you."

  "Ah, you wish me to pry off the lid, so to speak. Very well. I abhor injustice, and that includes the entire slavery issue, something that never really touched me before, but now it does and I'll be damned if I myself will be responsible for the continuation of such an appalling state of affairs." He paused a moment, surprised at himself. His voice had grown deeper, harsher. She was right, he realized. He'd been amusing himself, nothing more. He'd said nothing that really mattered. He could sense that she was listening to him, really listening. "I believe that England has many problems, but we are still the conscience of the world, if you will. A man has dignity in England, and that is important. As for what I want out of my life, I will tell you. I wish to live as contentedly as possible without hurting others. I wish to have children and give them all my care and attention, to make them responsible for themselves and for those who depend upon them, to instill in them a sense of dignity and loyalty and humanity." He stopped and drew a deep breath. Dear God, he'd never before spoken with such passion. Would Diana believe him a fool? An idealistic idiot?

  There was a long silence. Finally, he heard her say in a very quiet voice, "I believe you will do all these things, Lyon. Indeed, I wish you well. You should have added, however, that you are exceedingly stubborn, and when you decide that something must be done, you will move heaven and earth to see that it is."

  "Only when I am certain I am right, Diana."

  "Right from your point of view, certainly."

  "Diana, do not fight me on this. I will make you a good husband."

  "I, however, should make you a deplorable wife. I am not from your precious England, Lyon. My life, my experiences, have made me vastly different from you."

  "What is it that you want?"

  "I want to go home and pick up the threads of my life again."

  "You won't be able to.
You will no longer have control. Have you so soon forgotten that you now have a stepmother? And a stepbrother? Life, my dear, as you experienced it, will no longer exist. The threads are broken."

  "I will make do. I am still my father's heir."

  "I shouldn't count on that, now that he has a stepson in the house. Dammit, Diana, let me take care of you, let me protect you. I will protect you to the best of my ability."

  She was silent for many moments. "Lyon, 'tis enough. I don't need any man to protect me. No, hold your tongue. I heard you out. I suppose I am like other women. I do want a husband and children. But for me to consider marriage, I would demand that the man love me, love me and respect me, as me, Diana, not simply as a woman's body in his bed or as a brood mare to produce his children. I should demand that he belong to me as I did to him. And that, my lord earl, is quite beyond you."

  His frustration came to the fore. "Diana, love doesn't just sprout up in an instant. It is something that can develop between two people; if they care for each other, it ---"

  "You felt love for Charlotte, if not in an instant, at least very quickly."

  He cursed floridly.

  "After you have dealt with your inheritance, Lyon, you must return to England. You will find a lady to suit you there. A lady who will be quite willing to accept all that you have to offer. In short, a lady who knows your rules and is quite willing to play by them."

  "This is ridiculous," he said, turned over on his side away from her, and set himself to sleep. But his body was rigid, his thoughts in chaos. And he was angry, both with himself and with Diana. He'd let her see a part of him that he wasn't in the habit of showing anyone. And as for her, he disliked experiencing her more and more as a person, as a woman separate from him, a woman who saw things clearly, perhaps too clearly, a woman who refused to bend to his will. Oh, hell.

  Well, she had shown herself thoroughly a woman tonight, much to his chagrin. She demanded love, no doubt the romantic sort that he could no longer accept. He drew up his errant thinking at the sound of a sob.

  He sprang upright on the bunk. "What the devil is the matter? Diana?"

  14

  I don't like devils. They vex me and are most unpleasant.