Captured (16 page)

They lay there in the silence for a long time, each mining his or her own thoughts while the breeze and silence flowed around them. “Should I remove this sponge?” she asked.

“Yes. I’ve plenty.”

She looked up into his face. “Plenty?”

He shrugged, then grinned. “I won’t lie. I enjoy women, and they enjoy me, so I try and be as protective as I can. They seem to appreciate it.”

“The insertion’s not a bad thing, either.”

“You enjoyed it?”

“I did.”

“Would you like a fresh one, m’lady?”

She felt him rise to the occasion against her hips. “You seem to have answered for me.”

He looked amused and impressed. “You truly are scandalous, Clare Sullivan.”

Reaching up, she laid a palm against his strong bearded cheek. “Only for you.”

The sun arrived at dawn, coloring the fading night with stripes of purples and pinks. Down on the beach the drums were finally silent. In the governor’s mansion, Dominic removed the fourth and final sponge from between her pulsing thighs and fit himself against her back. And just as he’d hoped earlier in the day, he fell asleep with a sexually exhausted and nude Clare Sullivan in his arms.

They slept well into midday. No one bothered them; his people knew better. They also knew that having just returned from a long voyage, he needed to sleep.

The heat of the day was just rising in the room when Dominic awakened. The first thing he saw was Clare, nude as an African sea nymph and sleeping soundly. He smiled. What a night they’d had. He’d expected her to be more reserved but instead she’d been an eager, tempting treat and he couldn’t wait to have her again. She was probably sore, though, and only a brute would disregard his lover’s wellbeing, so he’d give her a day or so before inviting her to take another amorous journey. That didn’t mean he planned to be a eunuch with her; there were many ways to bring on
la petite mort,
and having spent his fair share of nights in some of the best brothels in the world, he knew more than he’d ever need. But just the thought of gifting her with all that made his manhood throb to life. Deciding he needed to leave the bed before he forgot his vow to let her rest, he did so with as much stealth as he could muster, then grabbed a robe to cover his nakedness and quietly exited the room. He hoped Anna had prepared something to eat because he was as ravenously hungry as a fully grown tiger shark.

When he returned bearing a tray with an assortment of dishes for them to eat, Clare was stirring awake. Seeing him, she smiled sleepily and dragged the sheet up to cover herself.

“Good morning,” he said to her.

She could see that he’d bathed. He was dressed in yet another white shirt and trim dark breeches. “And to you as well.” With his hair tied back and his pirate-dangerous face, she found him terribly dashing.

“How do you feel?” he asked, observing her easily.

“Content.”

A pleased smile claimed his dark features. “I’ve filled a tub with water. Would you like to bathe or eat first?”

“Bathe, please.” She was clammy from the heat and sheets.

To her surprise, the tub was out on the verandah, and it was not the small traditional stand-in tub she was accustomed to using. This one with its raised claw feet was large and oval and designed to sit in, something she’d never done before, but it was the sight of the bright red blossoms floating on the water’s surface that made her go still. The simple, quiet beauty of the fragrant blooms, coupled with the knowledge that never in her life would she have imagined something so luxurious would be intended for someone like her, made her eyes wet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know it’s only water and flowers but it’s beautiful,” she whispered. “No one’s ever prepared a bath for me—ever.”

“Then let me show you another joy. Simply step in and sit.”

Although she was unsure, she let him assist her in, then sank slowly down until the water covered her above the waist. The temperature was cool, but not too much that it was uncomfortable.

“And your verdict?” he asked, looking down on her with eyes that took her back to last night’s many pleasures.

“It’s very soothing,” she admitted, having now gotten past the novelty of being immersed to the waist in cool fragrant water.

Hunkering down, he picked up a blossom and fit the stem behind her ear. “I didn’t get my good morning kiss.”

“Is that a prerequisite for beginning the day?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his lips already teasing hers to come play.

A very familiar heat slowly spread its way through her veins. Placing a hand behind his sleek head, she raised her lips to meet his and gave him his morning due.

She didn’t mind that he was circling handfuls of the cool scented water over her breasts because her nipples bloomed at his touch. Nor did she mind when he bent his head and took a damp bud into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it slowly while she crooned. When his caressing fingers slipped beneath the water and then between her thighs, she bowed back and let him feast and dally.

Dominic thought she had such a sumptuous little body. Every brown inch seemed made for his lips and hands. The feel of her nipples in his mouth, the throbbing little nubbin he was plying between her thighs, all added up to a woman he found himself now wanting night and day. “Let’s give you the day’s first pleasuring.”

True to his word, he spent the next few moments making her hips rise, her nipples plead, and her legs spread wide. Only when her moans began spiraling did his mouth and fingers send her soaring into paradise.

She slid down into the water as boneless as a jellyfish and heard him whisper heatedly, “Enjoy your bath,
petite.”

After his departure, Dominic walked back inside and then outside to stand on the verandah attached to the opposite side of his rooms. He gazed out over the lush countryside. Touching and kissing her had left his manhood in an uproar again, but he was enjoying being with her. That such a small thing as a tub of water had the ability to move her so intensely made him want to purchase the world and set it at her feet. Basic comforts that other women like Sylvie and Violet might take for granted, like a soft bed or a drawn bath, were neither basic nor expected by Clare. She’d never been waited on or pampered. The thought of her returning to a life that measured her value only by forced servitude made him ache inside. His dealings with the softer sex had always been of a casual nature. Over his lifetime he’d had his share of mistresses, but none had ever inspired him to want to include her in his future. Clare did. Her beauty, intelligence, and wit were unparalleled. She was like a mermaid he’d accidentally found that he’d eventually have to return to the sea, and he was loath to do so. It occurred to him that if he could successfully rescue three hundred of his father’s people from the clutches of his evil brother, doing the same for one woman and her two children had to be simple. All he needed was a solid plan. Back on the
Marie
he’d vowed to put all ideas for solving her dilemma aside out of respect for her wishes, but now the time had arrived to revisit the matter. He’d find a way to free her and her children; he had to, or lose her forever.

“Dominic?”

He turned to see her standing in the middle of the room. The scarlet bloom was still behind her ear and she was wrapped in a long drying sheet that clung revealingly to her damp body. Viewing the shadowy points of her breasts poking against the nearly transparent fabric aroused him all over again. “Did you enjoy your bath?” She was temptation on two small feet.

“Very much. It will be one of the many memories I shall treasure when I return to Savannah. Thank you.”

He apparently didn’t hide his reaction quickly enough.

“I know the prospect displeases you. It does me as well, but I must return, so let’s enjoy the time we’ve been given.”

He inclined his head graciously but kept his quest to secure her freedom to himself. “As you wish.”

She walked over to him. Rising up on her toes, she offered him a short poignant kiss before saying, “You have been kinder to me than anyone ever before. I will remember you always.”

Leaving him with his heart full, she slipped behind the screen to get dressed.

Behind the screen, Clare found her freshly laundered shift and drawers and sent Anna a mental thanks for the clean garments. Slipping into them, she put her stays on over the shift. “Dominic, can you lace me, please?”

“No,” came his reply.

Sticking her head around the screen, she glanced over at him seated at the table where he waited for her to join him for the morning meal. “Did you say no?”

“I did. You don’t need stays, Clare.”

“No proper woman goes without her stays, Captain.”

“Here a properly laced woman can keel over in the heat.”

Clare had never considered walking around without the requisite undergarments.

Dominic grinned. “I’ll admit there is nothing more sensual than unlacing a woman, but not when she is gasping on the ground. Consider going without. Most of the women here do.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

Clare didn’t mind trading her heavy gown with all the petticoats for the simple blouse and skirt Anna had provided, but no stays?

“Trust me,
petite.
You’ll breathe better.”

The summers in Savannah were stifling, and being constricted by stays made the soaring temperatures all the more stifling, but she’d never gone without them. “All right, I’ll take your advice and leave them off, but I’ll not feel properly dressed.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Clare stepped back behind the screen and added the blouse, the thin petticoat, and the skirt. After donning the clean stockings and tying them in place with strips of ribbon, she put on her slippers and joined him at the table.

“You look lovely.”

“I feel half dressed.”

He didn’t comment, but chuckling inward, he passed her a plate.

The meal consisted of fruit, rice, and slices of the meat left over from last night’s celebration. As they ate silently, the looks that passed between them carried their minds back to their own celebration, and the memories of the fiery little deaths they’d shared.

Dominic asked, “Are you sore?”

“A bit.”

“Then we will let you recover today.”

The look of disappointment on her face was endearing. “You’re new at this, my scandalous Clare. I don’t wish for you to be injured and unable to enjoy yourself in days to come.”

“I suppose.” Clare knew he was only looking out for her health and she appreciated it immensely, but her need for more of his loving was immense as well. Another scandalous thought.

“We will make up for the delay, I promise.”

Her smile met his and they finished the meal.

H

“James is away seeing to Irma’s sick baby boy,” Lucinda explained when Dominic inquired about the doctor’s whereabouts.

“Is it something serious?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m hoping no, but we will find out when he returns. Would you like to come in?”

Dominic shook his head, “I’m giving Clare a quick tour of the island. We just stopped by to show her where you live.”

“And it is paradise,” Lucinda added, gesturing at the beautiful surroundings.

Clare took in the tall trees and the bright colors of the grasses and tropical flowers blooming wild everywhere and agreed.

Lucinda was saying, “I was hoping to have James home for at least a few days before his duty called, but…” She shrugged. “The gods bless us with his presence and knowledge.”

“Having a doctor here is indeed a blessing,” Dominic agreed. “When does your babe arrive?”

“End of summer, and I hope my husband will be by my side and not sailing on the
Marie,
Captain.”

Clare grinned at the pointed amusement on Cinda’s face.

Dominic held up his hands in surrender. “I will do my best. With the storm season coming, I doubt we’ll sail again before the autumn.”

“Good. Anna is an excellent midwife, but I want my husband to catch my child.”

Clare understood the sentiment and thought how wonderful it must feel to give birth to a child that no one could spirit away and sell.

Cinda, as if sensing her mood, asked quietly, “Do you have children?”

“I do. Two.”

“Are they here with you?”

Clare shook her head. “No, they are captives.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. Forgive my blunder.”

“No need to apologize. You didn’t know.”

“The captain will fix it,” Cinda declared. “He’s very good at fixing things.”

Clare gave her a soft smile.

“He is. Just wait and see.” She skewered Dominic with her dark eyes. “You are going to help her?”

“Yes, Cinda. Soon as I can. I promise.”

“Then Clare, set your mind at ease.”

Clare nodded.

He asked, “Are there any more tasks for me besides freeing Clare’s children and making sure James is present to catch his child?”

“No.” She laughed. “But I expect Clare and her children to be here for the christening.”

“Aye, sir.”

Eyes shining with amusement, she said to Clare, “Enjoy the remainder of the tour.”

“I will, and thank you for your kindness.”

“Godspeed.”

With that they mounted Louis and rode away.

“I like her,” she said to Dominic as they headed up another tract carved through the thick foliage.

“She’s a fine woman and James is a lucky man.”

“You said on the ride over that she was Akan?”

“Yes. They are a tribe in central Africa known for their exquisite gold work.”

“Where did they meet?”

“Jamaica. She was living in a maroon settlement up in the Clarendon mountains. He’d gone there to treat someone.” Dominic could tell by the confusion on her face that she was unfamiliar with the word. “Maroons are fugitive slaves. The word comes from the Spanish,
cimarrones.”

“Which means?”

“Wild, unruly, fugitive. Originally it described cattle gone wild after escaping.”

“Then it was applied to escaped slaves.”

“Correct.”

“Are there many maroons in Jamaica?”

“Yes, and they began fighting the British some fifty-odd years before the turn of the century.”

“Really?”

He went on to explain how after the British invasion of Spanish Jamaica in the mid-seventeenth century, many of the wealthy Spanish residents fled to Cuba ahead of the conquerors and left their slaves behind. “The slaves took to the mountains, established villages, and terrorized the British. Wherever there is slavery in this part of the world there are maroon communities: here in the Indies, Brazil, the colonies.”

Clare had heard whispers of towns established by fugitives in Georgia and in other places like the swamps of Virginia and Carolina from Teddy and some of the Sullivan guests. She got the impression that the slave owners were as afraid of the communities as they were of their own slaves revolting. “Are the maroons still fighting the British?”

“Some have signed treaties and were given land and limited freedom. Others are still at war and may be forever unless given the true freedom to plot their own destiny.”

“What about the rest of the people here?”

They rode past more small, black-soiled fields, homes, and crews of men felling trees and clearing away the brush with long-blade machetes.

“Most worked for my father on the island of Martinique. He’d freed them, but after his death my brother planned to enslave them.”

Surprise filled her face. “You said planned to. Did something change his mind?”

“Yes. I sailed to the island, put them all on boats, and we sailed here. He couldn’t enslave people he did not possess.”

She was impressed by his ingenuity and remembered Cinda’s boasting of his ability to fix things. “He must have been very angry at you.”

“No angrier than I, so his feelings didn’t much matter. I found his plan appalling, as my father would have had he been alive.”

“So that is one of the reasons you and your brother are at odds?”

“That and the fact that my father held him and my stepmother responsible for my mother’s death.”

She remembered the terrible story told to her about his mother’s poisoning. “Will your stepmother ever be punished by the authorities?”

“Doesn’t appear so, so I’ve punished their purse by taking their workers and making certain Eduard wouldn’t be able to resurrect the plantation easily.”

“How long ago did you bring the people here?”

“Four years.”

“You’ve accomplished much in such a short time.”

“We have, but there is much more to do. I’d like to build a school and a hospital where James can treat his patients. I’d like for us to begin harvesting the hardwood for exportation so we won’t have to toil so hard in the cane fields, or take on letters of marque so we can all eat. I’ve many dreams, but my mother always reminded me that if I don’t have dreams they can’t come true.”

“I’ve never heard that before.”

He didn’t doubt that; it was the rare slave owner who encouraged his captives to dream. Dominic wondered about her own dreams. Freedom for herself and her children were obvious ones, but as he’d mused back on the
Marie,
what dreams did she harbor for herself?

They rode west to look in on the fiddler Pierre Tait and his beautiful blond wife, Dani, whose log home was reminiscent of the small home of Cinda and the doctor. After they paid their respects and were once again riding away, Clare asked, “How did he lose his eye?”

“A duel with one of the king’s guards.”

She remembered him telling her of Tait’s employment at the royal court. “What were they dueling over, has he ever told you?”

“Yes. Dani. She was one of the king’s many mistresses but had the gall to fall in love with the royal musician, so the king sent the guardsman to challenge him, hoping Tait would be killed. He took a ball to the eye but it didn’t kill him. He attributed it to his thick skull.”

He paused to share her smile. “He and Dani fled to London. Gaspar and I met them months later at an alehouse in London where he was playing. We enjoyed his music, and after sitting with him and hearing his story we offered him a position on the
Marie.
His only condition was that Dani be allowed to come along. We agreed, and they sailed here and built their home.”

She could still hear the pure, soaring notes of the composition he’d written for her. His skill was extraordinary. “And Gaspar? You said last night that you’d known each other since you were boys.”

He smiled. “Yes. My father found him in an alley in Marseilles scavenging for food. He was ten years of age and had run away from his master. My father brought him home to Martinique. He was raised by my parents with as much love as they gave me. After her death, my father’s grief made him return to the sea, and he took both of us with him. Although Gaspar and I are not blood we are brothers in every other sense.”

“What about Esteban?”

“Have known him for many years. His father and mine were good friends. When I sailed to Martinique to rescue my father’s people, Esteban’s father loaned us his ship just in case we needed more room, and Esteban was its captain.”

“He has no sweetheart here?”

“He has too many sweethearts, which is why Odessa will not give him the time of the day, let alone her hand.”

“Odessa, whom I was with yesterday at the feast?”

“Yes. He’s harbored feelings for her for some time, but until he stops hopping from bed to bed she won’t have anything to do with him. He pretends that he doesn’t care but in his heart he does.”

Clare was stunned. “Esteban and Odessa.”

“Love is blind,
petite,
what more can I say.”

They rode back to his house to escape the oppressive afternoon heat, and she found the cool shade inside a welcome relief. Anna brought them a plate of fruit and rice.

Clare stood. “How may I help?”

“By retaking your seat.”

“Surely I can—?”

“You can sit, miss.”

Dominic watched the silent play. He already knew who would win, and was certain Clare would figure that out soon enough as well.

Anna set down the plate. “You are a guest here. Do you know what that means?”

Clare swallowed.

“It means that you are to let me do what I am being paid to do, which is to make your stay here a pleasant one, but that won’t be possible if you jump to your feet every time I appear. Do you understand?”

She nodded like a scolded child.

“Then sit and enjoy your luncheon. I’ll return with the beverage shortly.”

After her exit, the still-standing Clare said, “I suppose she put me in my place.”

“Sounded that way. I know better than to offer any assistance of any kind. I may be the captain of the
Marie,
but around here a powder monkey commands more status.”

Chuckling, Clare took her seat.

They were almost done eating when Anna reappeared. Walking behind her were Sylvie and Levine. Sylvie’s light blue gown looked so crisp and fresh it might have come straight from a seamstress shop. The stomacher appeared to be of excellent quality. The petticoats peeking out from between the open face of the skirt were snow white and banded with strips of lace that matched the elaborate ruffles hanging from her sleeves. Levine, on the other hand, was wearing a grimy coat, a yellowed shirt, and stockings badly in need of laundering.

Anna said to Dominic, “I tried to make them wait until you were done, but they insisted on coming to you.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

Clare stood, intending to follow Anna inside in order to give Dominic the privacy he might need, but he stopped her. “You may stay, Clare. They won’t be long.”

Sylvie’s chin rose with displeasure and Levine focused his spectacled eyes Clare’s way. “So this is the lovely Miss Clare your crewmen have all been talking about. My pleasure, madam.”

Clare nodded.

Sylvie sniffed. “It’s said you are a slave from the colonies.”

Clare didn’t respond.

“’Twould be terrible if your masters were to learn your whereabouts, wouldn’t it?”

A muscle twitched in Dominic’s jaw, and he said in an ice-cold voice, “’Twould be terrible for you as well. Should anything happen to Clare while she’s here, you’ll be on the block in Martinique so fast you won’t have time to change your gown.”

She jumped.

“Think how many years you’d spend trying to prove you were born free, Sylvie. It might take the rest of your life.”

Levine uttered an uncomfortable-sounding little laugh, “She meant nothing, LeVeq. It was just an innocent question.”

Because he knew Sylvie well, Dominic had no doubts that the question hadn’t been an innocent one at all, so after letting Sylvie see the serious threat in his eyes, he turned to Levine. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve come to tell you I can give you your asking price for the guns.”

“We found another buyer, so I won’t need your help getting them to the colonies.”

His mouth dropped. “But—”

“Is there anything else you wish to discuss?” Had Sylvie not threatened Clare, he might have done business with the man, but not now. He was too angry. “And Sylvie?”

Her hard eyes met his.

“No one threatens the freedom of anyone under my care. No one. For your own safety, remember that.”

She flashed around. “Let’s go, Levine.”

The tight-lipped Levine gave Clare and Dominic a nod, turned, and followed Sylvie back the way they’d come.

When Clare and Dominic were alone again, she asked, “Was she serious?”

“As a viper, but then so was I. Should she cause you harm, I will place her on the block personally.”

“No one should suffer that fate, Dominic.”

“Agreed. Which is why she should have thought more carefully about the consequences before intimating what she did.”

Clare could see the fury still sparking in him. He was not a man to cross, which he proved so well on the afternoon he ordered his crew to sink Vanweldt’s
Amsterdam.
That Sylvie might alert the Sullivans to her whereabouts evoked a lingering sense of unease. Clare was planning to return to Savannah of her own accord, but if she was forced to do so by the authorities it might not bode well for her, or for Sarah or Ben. “Could she actually do what she implied?”

“Anything is possible. However, she may have burned too many bridges for anyone to care enough to act on the information.”