Love's Vengeance (12 page)

Desiree opened the door, admitting him and glanced around to the small window, where the first gray hues of dawn were appearing, “What time is it?” she inquired.

“Half past five. We will be launching in an hour or so. We must make the most of the morning breeze.” he explained with a smile, placing the tray upon the table, “I’ll leave you to your meal.” He gave a slight bow and closed the door as he left.

Desiree and Bridgett dressed quickly and sat down to their meal. Sipping the hot, strong coffee, Desiree was thankful for the touch of sugar, which had been thoughtfully added. She could not abide the brew and the thought of abstaining from tea for two months was unpleasant indeed. She would have to see about the possibility of having tea in the future, she decided.

Within a short time, they were hurrying out of the cabin and climbing the steps to the deck, to watch the launching. They were immediately surrounded by a flurry of activity. Men were dashing about, stowing the last of the cargo, while others were making last minute inspections of riggings and sails. The air still held a chill and Desiree pulled the hood of her cloak over her head for added warmth, then finding a spot near the rail where they seemed to be out of the way and had a good vantage, they took in the activity with much interest.

Desiree heard the captain’s voice and turning in that direction, she saw him standing at the helm, giving orders to his men. A chart was spread across the spokes of the tall wheel and he appeared to be discussing the day’s goals with his first mate. He stood to the side of the wheel and Desiree could see his entire frame and she found herself studying him, as he bent to his work.

He could not be much more than in his early thirties, if that, she decided. He was clean shaven, which was odd for a man of the sea. A growth of beard might have lent to disguising his years, as he was younger, obviously, than his first mate and many of his crew. But he did have a power and strength about him, which demanded respect, and he appeared to have that from his men.

His handsome face darkly bronzed by the sun was striking, framed with his collar length hair. Soft curls gleamed white blond in the early morning brilliance, contrasting attractively with dark brows that arched neatly around those deep brown eyes. His nose was straight; the lips strong—firm and those slight dimples that she knew were rakish and well defined when he smiled. He was ridiculously handsome, nearly flawless, she decided with ire.

Her eyes moved lower, noting the uncomplicated style of his clothing, without frills or ruffles. Instead, the sleeves of his tan linen shirt were rolled up to the middle of his forearms. The shirt was buttoned but she was well aware of the muscular chest, lightly furred, hidden from view. Her eyes lowered to the trim hips caught in dark brown knee breeches that fit
very
well, she decided. Brown knee boots completed the swashbuckling effect.

Desiree became aware of the fact that she seemed to be studying him much too intently and would have turned away, until she found the captain’s amused gaze was upon her. Once having her attention, he grinned roguishly, throwing his arms open toward her in a welcoming gesture. She felt the heat coming from her face, realizing she had been observed and attempting to save what little pride she had left, she lifted her nose in the air and turned away; looking down to the docks below.

Shocked by her own abandon at scrutinizing an almost total stranger so closely, her eyes turned to Bridgett but she had missed the entire occurrence. She was busy watching below as the dock workers released the huge lines from massive cleats and men aboard ship, began heaving them up, coiling them upon the deck.

“Mister Davison, Harper—let’s be about the sails men.” Colter shouted from his helm.

The men hurried about the task of raising the foresails and the morning breeze caught the snowy white sheets and the ship began to hale away from the pier. As they moved past the
Dalton
, Desiree saw Captain Anderson at his helm, saluting the ship as it passed. Following the train of his eyes, she saw Captain Colter returning the gesture to his friend, as they moved out into the
Baie de la Seine
.

Looking back to her homeland, Desiree sighed heavily, “I can’t believe we are really leaving Bridgett. I shall miss my home.”

Bridgett put a comforting arm about her shoulders, “There now my dear—we shall be fine. Think of the adventure we have before us! We shall have so much to do, learning the ways of a new land—you’ll see. You won’t be missing France for long.”

“You are right of course. I should be excited. It is not often that one has a chance like this.” Desiree smiled courageously.

After leaving the protection of the bay, under full sail, the ship cleaved the rolling waves, moving down the channel toward open sea and Desiree stayed at the rail most of the morning; watching the coast of France pass by.

***

The preoccupation of the young woman with watching the land gave Stephen Colter ample opportunity to take in her loveliness from his vantage point at the helm. He could see the side of her delicately featured face and just the hint of her figure under the long cloak she held close about her. As he watched, the wind caught in her hood, pulling it from her head and strands of her hair flew free and his breath ceased as he stood in awe of her. The ebony tresses, caught in a mass of loose ringlets cascaded down her back and bluish highlights shimmered amid the raven in the brilliant morning sun. Her face was finely featured, with ebony brows arched gently from those violet blue eyes that had enthralled him yesterday. Her cheeks were blooming with healthy color; her full lips seemed to beckon him to sample their sweetness.

He had admitted to himself, through the course of the long sleepless night he had experienced that she had awakened in him a desire he had not felt for a very long time, if ever. He had tossed and turned upon his pallet while the bewitching woman with the unusual eyes danced before him. In his mind he had tried to imagine what treasures lay beneath the rich clothing, hidden from view. But even his imaginings could not compare, he felt sure.

***

At noon Bridgett came above deck to retrieve her charge and grudgingly Desiree left the rail and the wonderful sea breeze, with a last look at the green line on the horizon that was France and went below for the midday meal.

It was during the meal that Bridgett felt the first qualms of seasickness. She had been unable to finish her portion and lay down upon her bunk, as the room seemed to spin about her.

“Will you be all right?” Desiree asked with concern, while devouring her own fare. Her appetite had improved, if possible, with the fresh air she had received during her morning.

“I shall be fine dear. It is something I have become accustomed to. On my journey from England, just across the channel, I became ill. With a longer voyage it lasts a day or two, or so I have heard. Don’t worry about me. I will just try to sleep a bit. Please go up in the sun and enjoy yourself.”

Bridgett smiled but Desiree noted an ashen tinge about her lips. Desiree would have argued the point but knew Bridgett would only make herself feel worse, trying to convince her to go. “Can I get you anything? Anything at all?”

“No nothing. I’ll be fine. Enjoy your afternoon.” Bridgett closed her eyes, to stop the whirling of the room about her.

Desiree took a book from a small valise near her bunk and closing the door gently, returned to the deck.

She was unable to find a place out of the way to sit and read but looking toward the quarterdeck, she saw that the first mate Davison, had assumed the captain’s place and taking a seat on the staircase leading to the helm, she opened her book upon her lap. Davison seemed unaware of her presence and she relaxed.

“I see you have taken well to the sea. No sickness?”

Desiree nearly jumped out of her skin, hearing the words spoken so close to her ear. The captain peered at her through the spindle supports of the banister.

“Please Captain, don’t sneak up on me. I would appreciate some warning of your presence!” Desiree sneered, looking back to her book, dismissing him.

“Miss Chandelle, I hardly
sneaked
.” He chuckled, walking around the banister and reclining beside her on the steps.

Desiree fought an urge to jump up and flee. No—she would not back down, although she did slightly adjust her position on the stairs, avoiding contact. The captain seemed not to notice.

“Where is your companion? Won’t she be joining you?” he inquired.

Desiree turned the page, without looking up to meet his eyes, “She is a bit ill. She is resting.” She offered softly.

“I am sorry about our first meeting yesterday but I couldn’t resist teasing you. I hope you will forgive me.”

“Captain Colter that was not mere teasing, you behaved…” Desiree shook her head, unable to continue.

“Like a cad?” he offered helpfully, “Yes I fear I played the part rather well didn’t I?” he grinned at her and Desiree looked up into dancing brown eyes; then admired a flash of dimples and white teeth.

“Yes
Monsieur
, you do make a remarkably convincing cad. Years of practice I suppose?” she tilted her head, arching one brow and looking at him sidelong.

“
Touché
Ma Cherie
.” He chuckled, drawing his legs up upon the steps and resting his forearms across his knees, allowing his hands to dangle loosely.

“English
Monsieur
. You don’t speak or understand French, remember?” she quipped.

“Perhaps a touch.” He lifted one hand and gestured a pinch with finger and thumb, “So what do you say—can we start anew? I am an awfully nice cad when you get to know me.”

She made no remark, going back to her reading and letting the question go unanswered.

“Well…” he slapped his thighs and rose, facing her with one foot upon the bottom step, “I hope Bridgett feels better soon Miss Chandelle and I wouldn’t stay up here on deck too long if I were you—you may end up with a terrible burn from the sun.” He reached out as if he was going to lightly touch the tip of her petite nose with his finger, chuckling as she pulled back from him.

“Thank you for your concern Captain. I will try and limit my outings on deck.” She said stiffly but with slightly less malice. He had apologized, that was at least something.

“Enjoy your book.”

He bounded up the steps and within moments Davison walked down to go about his other duties.

Desiree sat with the book open upon her lap, looking to anyone watching as if she were enthralled with its contents but she might as well have been staring at a blank page. She could not even attempt to read. She knew the captain was there, just above her and she could almost feel his eyes upon her back. After what seemed an eternity but actually had been only a few minutes, she closed her book and strolled off to the cabin below.

It had been with a great effort that she had managed to stay put for that length of time. She heaved a sigh of relief as she leaned against the wall of the companionway. Well at least he knew she would not go screaming below to safety when faced with his mere presence. Perhaps she would be able to hold her own against this Captain Colter.

Chapter Nine

Bridgett recovered from her sea sickness the third day out and with the abundance of time for talking, Desiree and she spent some of that excess, learning a few details that normal everyday life in France had not permitted. It was one such occasion, sitting at the small table in their cabin; that Desiree decided to broach the subject of Bridgett’s life prior to becoming her nurse. Desiree cupped her chin in her hand, watching Bridgett make intricate stitches in a complex needlework project.

“Bridgett what was it like for you, growing up in England?” she asked brightly.

Bridgett glanced up from her sewing, “Not nearly as pleasant as your life in France I’m sorry to say dear.”

“Why is that?” Desiree prodded.

Bridgett fastened the needle onto the cloth and lay aside her work. Her pale blue eyes held Desiree’s solemnly and Desiree sensed sadness upon the gentle face.

“Life in England when I was young was hard for all dear. It still is for that matter but is improving. The government was forever in conflicts—where these days; as in France, most of the population lives comfortably with few rich and few poor; in my early life we had the distinction of having few even comfortable, only the very rich and the very poor. Most fell into the second category. My own family fell into the second.” She finished softly.

“But Bridgett—you can read, you are well educated, you speak two languages and your French is flawless. How could you have learned such without attending schools?”

“Oh I found ways to attend dear. I will leave it at that—I don’t wish to discuss it further.” She stated flatly and by her tone of voice, Desiree could do nothing but let it drop.

“I’m sorry Bridgett, I shouldn’t have pried. I have no right.”

Bridgett reached for her hand and patted it gently, “Perhaps one day we can talk of it child. I didn’t mean to sound cross. You don’t want to hear of my troubled youth. I found my way to you and your family and have been happy ever since. That’s what matters to me. Now I would much rather hear of this marriage proposal you received from Rene'. Why didn’t you tell me of this sooner?” her face brightened and she leaned forward in her chair expectantly.

“I hadn’t told anyone.”

“What exactly did you tell him? Oh Desiree you couldn’t do much better than that young man. I think I have always enjoyed him most. His is so level headed, intelligent—handsome. He adores you, you know and always has. I’m not saying the others haven’t but Antoine is still a boy at heart and Honore’ has a wicked streak—I swear!” she said with a laugh.

“I suppose—Honore’ does love to use his fists,” Desiree conceded, “but he is quite gentle where women are concerned and I think Antoine has grown up much in the past year. They are all fine men and I love each of them.” She stated, quickly defending them, “But I could not marry Rene’ with clear conscience Bridgett. I fear I would ruin his life. I know him too well. We would probably be at each other’s throats before a fortnight passed…”