Passionate (17 page)

“I don’t think you clumsy in the least, Isabelle.” James leapt easily from the boat and offered his hand. Lily tried not to notice his agility, the lean strength of his body. This was not a man who had confined himself to billiards and ballrooms.

“May I assist you, Lily?” he asked, returning to the boat.

She looked at him, his easy grin, the amber lights glinting in his brown eyes. Where was the overbearing, dictatorial man that had so angered her? She felt for the resentment that had been her shield, but could not find it. The warm air, the fragrance of flowers—Spain was working some odd alchemy in her. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to forgive. At least for today.

When she clasped his outstretched hand, the look in his eyes deepened. His grip was strong, steadying her as she rose and stepped from the boat. They stood together on the damp sand, her hand in his. The breeze blew a lock of his hair down over his forehead.

“Lily! James! Watch out,” shouted Uncle Edward from the safety of the dry sand.

A wave frothed whitely up the beach toward them. James reacted instantly. Scooping her up into his arms, he sprinted ahead of the water.

“Oh,” she gasped, clasping his shoulders. He held her firmly against him, his strong arms supporting her. Their faces were close, her lips almost brushing the line of his jaw. He smelled of sun and wind and salt. Her heart pounded in time to his steps as he carried her effortlessly up the shore and set her back on her feet.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not mean to take liberties.”

“There is no need.” She found her balance. “It was a narrow escape. It would have been terribly uncomfortable to take in the sights in soggy boots.”

“Most assuredly.”

“And to promenade up the dusty streets with wet skirts…”

“Unthinkable.”

“Then there was really nothing else to be done.”

“Nothing at all.” James offered his arm. “Since we have both escaped unscathed, may I escort you into Cadiz?”

Lily could hardly say she was unscathed. Oh, not touched by the water, but a wave of awareness had surely flooded her. It was hard to tell if he were similarly affected, but there was something in his eyes, in the curve of his lips that made her think he was. Her pulse jumped as she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

They strolled up the sand with the others, past the brightly colored fishing boats, to where the main street descended to the water. Uncle Edward stopped beside a flowering bush and was holding a branch up for inspection.

“Your uncle is glad to be ashore, I see. Not much scope for botanizing ship-board.”

Lily laughed. “You might be surprised. He has directed the sailors to bring him any plant material they find floating on the waves, and I believe he has examined several different types of seaweed so far. Of course now that we’re on land, I expect we will have to pull him away from every shrub and flower.”

“Hardly a change there,” Richard said, coming up beside them. “I wonder whether we can taste Spanish chocolate here. It is supposed to be a marvelous beverage.”

“Donde esta chocolate?”
said Uncle Edward, setting aside his branch. “We’ll ask the first likely vendor.”

“Is your uncle fluent in Spanish?” James asked.

“I think his vocabulary is limited to things that can be eaten.”

They laughed together, and then he sobered. “I was concerned for you when the storm struck. I hope you were not ill.”

“No, thank goodness. Not like so many others, although I admit to existing on tea and crackers.”

“I saw you sketching occasionally.”

“Did you? Well, it would take more than a few waves to keep me from that, and it did take my mind from the rocking of the ship. How did you…” Her words faltered as she felt him go rigid. His eyes were eyes fixed ahead of them.

Lily glanced up to see Isabelle walking with Lord Reginald, her arm entwined with his. The two were far enough ahead of the rest of the group to converse without being overheard, and Lord Reginald was speaking earnestly. Isabelle shot a quick glance back over her shoulder at the following group.

“Oh heavens. I’ve told Isabelle to stay clear of that man. She is acting so foolishly.”

“We need to separate them.” James had quickened his pace.

“Absolutely.” They were in perfect accord about this, at least.

“When the opportunity arises, I will attach myself to your cousin for the remainder of the afternoon. You can occupy Isabelle.”

James scowled. “I will not have you…” he stopped himself. “Rather, I would prefer it if you did not keep company with my cousin. I will deal with Reggie myself.”

“And how long until the two of you came to blows? I don’t know what is between you, but it won’t do to be scuffling in the streets.”

He did not speak for a long moment. “It is true that Reggie is provoking, but I don’t like the idea of you strolling about on his arm.”

“Better me than Isabelle. At least I will not be blinded by his flatteries. You said yourself that if any woman was a match for him, I was.”

“Just keep close to the others.”

It was a command, but at least it was a sensible one. Lily decided not to protest. He was, at least, making
some
progress.

Ahead, Isabelle and Lord Reginald had reached the market, a square surrounded by tall white houses draped in scarlet bougainvillea. Women in black
mantillas
hurried past carrying their baskets. Vendors lounged behind piles of oranges and lemons and the briny scent of fish filled the air.

James leaned in and said softly, “We’ll keep close and watch for our chance.”

Lily nodded. Isabelle and her escort paused here and there, but she clung tightly to his arm, and they did not linger in any one place. At last Isabelle stopped at a table shining with glass beaded necklaces. She reached out to them, laughing as Lord Reginald took up brilliant blue and bright green strands. He dangled them in either hand, making them dance and sparkle in the sunshine.

“How pretty,” Lily said, releasing James’s arm. She stepped up to the table and ran her fingers over the display.

“Oh, yes,” Isabelle beamed. “Lord Reginald says they sparkle like my eyes.”

“But mere stone and glass could never capture the vibrancy I see. They are but a shallow approximation.” Lord Reginald flashed his toothy smile.

“You are turning my cousin’s head most dreadfully, Lord Reginald.”

“I speak only the truth.” He lifted a thin eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you agree, James?”

“I agree that you are keeping her beauty too much to yourself. Isabelle, do walk with me. We wouldn’t want Reggie to become too dazzled. Perhaps you would enjoy a glass of the fabled Spanish chocolate. The guide books recommend it highly.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened and she took a step away from James. “Oh no. It wouldn’t do to leave the marketplace and the other passengers.”

“Isabelle,” Lily said, “He is not going to abscond with you. The café is just there. See? Richard and the baronessa are sitting on the patio. You can go and join them.”

“I would hate to deprive Lord Reginald—”

Lily threaded her arm through Lord Reginald’s. “I will accompany him. Go enjoy your chocolate.”

“Very well.” Isabelle turned to him. “I hope I will see you soon, my lord.”

“As do I. Before you go, won’t you take this trifle to remember Spain by?” He held out the blue necklace.

“Thank you, my lord.” Isabelle took the necklace and curtsied. Then she turned, and without taking James’s offered arm, set off across the plaza towards the café.

“I seem to have been outmaneuvered,” said Lord Reginald as he watched Isabelle go, James close behind her. “Would you care to see the sights with me, Miss Lily?”

“Very much so.”

The travelers from the ship sampled chocolate and purchased curios, but soon they were making their way in ragged groups through the narrow streets toward the cathedral. As they walked, Lily could not help noting the family resemblance between Reginald and James—the clean-lined jaw, the expressive mouth. Lord Reginald’s nose was thinner, his brows darker and more finely arched but it was obvious they shared a common ancestor. He was quite handsome—not nearly so much as James—but Lily could understand Isabelle’s infatuation.

He noticed her gaze and offered a sly smile. “You find my face agreeable, I hope.”

“I would find it more so if you did not flatter Isabelle so outrageously. She’s very young.”

“And thus easily taken in by unscrupulous gentlemen?” His dark eyes focused sharply on her. “I understand your concern—do you know why my cousin is traveling to Tunisia?”

“To locate a flower first discovered by his grandfather. He has sought my uncle’s help in the matter.”

“My grandfather as well.” Reginald’s lips thinned. “Then I see James has not confided his true purpose.”

“And what other purpose might there be? Really, you make it sound so ominous. I assure you my uncle would never aid James if there were anything dishonorable about his motives.” She looked him directly in the eye. “The only thing that strikes me as odd is your presence on the
Sidonia
. I don’t believe chance brought you aboard. Why are you here?”

He laughed. “Ah, I see you are as clever as you are handsome, Miss Lily. But I think you may be too trusting. My cousin is no plant fancier. Are you certain he has not mentioned anything else?”

“I am certain you did not answer my question.” Heavens, it was difficult to get an answer from this man. There was something very slippery about him. He was too glib and impossible to pin down.

“Did I not? My apologies. But we must hurry to catch up with your family—they have already entered the cathedral.”

The white towers rose above them. They climbed the worn stone steps and Lily paused at the top to admire the view, wishing she had time to paint it—the houses with their brilliant flowers clustered above the half-moon of sand, the bay gleaming perfect cobalt.

“Are you coming?” Lord Reginald held open the small door that was set inside the tall, arched doors of the entry.

The air inside the church was cool and dim. Rows of candles glimmered before figures of saints, sunlight filtered through the stained glass in the nave to pool in multicolored patterns on the floor and walls.

Lily stepped up beside Lord Reginald and lowered her voice. “You were going to tell me the purpose of your journey to Tunisia.”

“Certainly.” He leaned toward her. “But you were telling me about this mysterious flower your expedition is pursuing. How did my cousin come to learn of it? Has he shown you the letters?”

“Really, Lord Reginald, you should ask him about it yourself.”

He sighed. “James has always been so secretive and scheming, saying one thing while planning something else. I have tried to help him—the whole family has—but to what end? You have no doubt observed how little love my cousin has for me. That is how he repays kindness.”

The doors opened behind them, silhouetting James and Isabelle. They halted nearby, both looking at Lord Reginald, but where Isabelle’s face was soft, James’s seemed carved of stone.

Lord Reginald shifted. “This hushed atmosphere is becoming rather oppressive. I shall wait outside until the others have finished gawking. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Thank you, but no. I will rejoin the others.” She motioned to the front of the cathedral where her uncle and Richard, along with the Fentons, were admiring the carved and gilded altar screen.

“Good day, then. But beware of my cousin. He is not as he appears.” Lord Reginald retreated, giving his cousin a wide berth. Well, she had kept him from Isabelle at least, even though the blasted man refused to answer any of her questions. He was too clever by half.

Lord Reginald was silhouetted for an instant as he pulled the door open, slipped through, and was gone.

“Come see,” Uncle Edward whispered loudly. “We’ve found someone with the keys to the bell tower!”

The stairs spiraled up tightly, and soon Lily stopped trying to count the turns. Here and there the curved stone wall was pierced with a narrow opening to light the stairwell. Through them she could see the red curved tiles on the roofs of the nearby buildings. When at last the stairs opened onto the flat roof, the brilliance of the light was almost too much. Lily blinked and shaded her eyes, gazing south across the water.

“The coast of Morocco,” James said at her shoulder.

Africa! She laughed for the pure joy of the moment and spread her arms to the sun and air, nearly certain she could take flight.

“You have a delightful laugh.”

“Flatterer.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Certainly not.” They walked forward and leaned over the low wall. “Is that Reggie down there?”

“Why? Shall we drop something on his head?”

“Tempting. I don’t suppose you have a large pot of geraniums with you.”

Lily laughed again, shaking her head. She enjoyed this side of James. Far too much. “No. No geraniums, and no paints. How I wish I had my paints.”

“I wish you did too. I would like to remember this.”

“Yes,” she said, knowing she would.

When they exited the cathedral, Lily linked her arm through Isabelle’s. She did not see Lord Reginald lurking, but she was not about to leave anything to chance where he was concerned—there were too many winding streets and empty courtyards.

“Look here!” Uncle Edward plucked a stray bit of greenery from beside the street. “This appears to be a grass, but it is actually more of a sedge!” He held out his find for inspection, pointing out the differences to Dr. Fenton and Richard.

James, standing with them, met Lily’s gaze. He raised one brow, the faintest question in his face, and she nodded. Isabelle was under her protection.

“Come on, Lily.” Her cousin drew her forward. “It’s too hot to stand out here. Let’s wait for the others down by the water.”

“A fine idea. Did you enjoy your Spanish chocolate?”

“It was lovely,” Isabelle said flatly. They turned a corner and her cousin glanced behind her, then tightened her grip on Lily’s arm. “I must speak with you.”

“What is wrong?”

“I fear we have fallen in with the worst sort of man.”