Seducing The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 1) (14 page)

“I needn’t remind you that this isn’t England,” Captain Mayfield warned. “But many Europeans enjoy living on these islands and have done so for years with no harm coming to them.”

Isobel smiled and tried to reassure herself. After all, they had come here out of necessity—not to establish a home in a strange land.

“Still,” Captain Mayfield said, “be sure your husband teaches you how to shoot a pistol.” He turned and walked along the deck to join his first mate.

Isobel hoped the captain was poking fun at her. However, learning to shoot might be a good idea.

Beckett appeared beside her, looking quite startling handsome as he surveyed the approaching shoreline. “I hope you won’t find life here on the island too uncomfortable, my dear. My experience in Wellington’s army has prepared me for almost any kind of accommodation, no matter how rough. But a lady might find such a wild land to be an adjustment.”

“I have been well prepared by Captain Mayfield for the way of life here in the tropics,” Isobel said. “Perhaps I might even teach you a thing or two.”

“I look forward to being your pupil,” He replied with a playful look.

Isobel gulped. She did not want to think about what he might want her to teach him.

She stared at the long wooden dock and saw Europeans dressed as they might be in London, as well as native workers loading various cargo.

The ship docked smoothly, its sailors all working in tandem to tie the lines. Some of their cargo was unloaded at once before the passengers began to disembark.

Isobel lifted Captain Black into her arms to say her goodbyes. She’d become fond of the surly cat during the journey, as had Beckett, with his natural affinity for animals. She smiled as she thought of the lovely sketches she had made of both Beckett and the cat. Would she stare wistfully at them in years to come, when she and her husband were living out their separate lives?

Captain Mayfield approached from across the deck.

“My dear Mrs. Evans,” the captain began, using the name she and Beckett were travelling under. “It seems that Captain Black has grown tired of a seafaring life and now seeks employment on land. Could you perhaps find a suitable position for him at your new residence?”

Isobel looked at Captain Mayfield and then Beckett, who said, “My wife and I would like nothing more.”

“But Captain Mayfield,” she asked, “how can you be sure that Captain Black has given up the sea?”

“Oh, I am quite sure of it,” the old man replied. “You see, I just left him in my cabin, having locked the door but a moment ago. And now, here he is in your arms.”

Everyone looked at Captain Black for some explanation, but the cat merely blinked at them.

“Apparently, he has grown quite attached to you, my dear,” Mayfield said. “Considering his experience with obeah, he will no doubt be adept at protecting you from any island mischief.”

Isobel nuzzled the cat before the captain gently placed him inside a carrying basket.

“Now, you must promise to stay in your basket, Captain Black. Please.” Mayfield shook his finger at the cat inside and then fastened the lid.

Beckett shook hands with the man. “Thank you for delivering us so expertly, Captain.”

“It has been a pleasure, sir.”

Guided by Beckett, Isobel made her way down the boarding plank and onto the dock. She turned to wave, but Captain Mayfield was gone, doubtless seeing to some part of the ship’s business.

“We’ll miss Captain Mayfield, won’t we, Captain Black?” she said to the feline in the basket, as she followed Beckett down the length of the dock.

Beckett looked back at her over his shoulder. “Quite an elaborate story just to get rid of a cat. I suppose he wouldn’t have known we’d be happy to adopt the creature. I must say, I miss being away from Monty and Caesar. Captain Black shall be good company for us.”

One of the men from the sugar plantation, Ravenwood Hall, stood beside the waiting coach, hat in hand.

“Lord Ravenwood,” he said, bowing, “Hal Cobb, sir, at your service.”

“Mr. Cobb, may I present my wife, Lady Ravenwood,” Beckett said, taking her hand.

“M’lady.”

Isobel fanned herself as the man made his bows to her. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Cobb,” she said. “Tell me, is it always this hot on the island?”

“Oh, no, m’lady” he replied. “It gets much hotter.”

Isobel glanced at Beckett and saw him grin.

“I told you Barbados was not for the faint of heart,” was all he said.

“So you did.” She purposely closed her fan. “I shall have no trouble at all, then.”

Beckett chuckled and handed her up into the carriage. Soon the vehicle rolled into motion and started down the rough dirt road.

Her fan did not stay closed for long. Much to her dismay, Isobel’s entire body quickly developed a sheen of perspiration. As soon as she discreetly wiped some away from her forehead, it was instantly replaced. Her light muslin dress stuck to her like glue and most likely showed off far too much of her body. Isobel fanned herself energetically. It gave some relief.

She noticed that Beckett was also covered in sweat, and wiping at his forehead from time to time with a handkerchief. At last, he caught her staring at him.

She quickly looked out the window. Captain Black meowed loudly, apparently not enjoying the carriage ride at all.

As they traveled down the road, Isobel tried to focus on the beautiful countryside to take her mind off the heat. They left St. Michael and Bridgetown, and entered the district of St. James, which would be her home for the next while.

Outside, all around them bloomed flowers in colors Isobel had never seen before, with trees and various plants in such strange sizes and shapes, she wondered at nature’s handiwork.

Questions and observations tumbled out of her like rambunctious children.

“—What is that tree?”

“—That flower, do you know what is it called?”

“—What an odd looking fruit! Surely no one eats such a thing.”

Beckett patiently pointed out banana and fig trees, but he was silently chuckling at her, she was quite sure. He also identified mangoes, sugar apples and hog plums—all hanging in the thick boughs like richly colored jewels. The smell of their sweet scents on the breeze made Isobel long to stop and pick some of the succulent fruit.

The sky above them was a bright, warm blue—the same color as Beckett’s eyes, Isobel noticed. Huge puffy clouds decorated the expanse of sky like dollops of clotted cream. This mysterious place was like a spell cast to invade all the senses at once. The sights, sounds and smells were almost impossible to resist.

“Such untamed splendor often has an intense effect on the human heart, does it not?” he asked.

Isobel opened her mouth to reply, but squealed as something quite large flew by the window. “Oh my! Whatever was that?”

She leaned closer to the window and almost bumped heads with Beckett as he did the same. They laughed, and Beckett pointed through the open window to the treetops.

“You see up there, in the tree?” he said. “Those are wild macaws. A macaw is a rather colorful type of parrot.”

Isobel gasped at the beautiful birds sitting high in the branches overhead. “Oh, Beckett. It’s as though someone has painted them by hand! But Caesar is not colored so.”

“He would surely have something quite nasty to say on the subject,” Beckett chuckled, sitting back. “We can count our blessings that it’s Captain Black we have with us instead.”

The carriage turned down a long drive. In the distance, Isobel could see Ravenwood Hall. It was surrounded by a magnificent lawn and exotic gardens, with palm trees standing tall overhead. Behind it, the vast sugar fields stretched out of sight.

They pulled up in front of the large, two-story house, which was surrounded by a verandah on both levels. Constructed of an unusual pink-colored stone, the house was offset by bright white shutters that flanked its long windows. Though the architecture copied the English style, the house seemed far more exotic than anything found in the British Isles.

The house staff of Ravenwood Hall stood at attention beside the steps, waiting to greet the new earl and countess. Beckett handed Isobel out of the carriage as Mr. Cobb prepared to introduce them to the staff.

Various male and female servants peered at them curiously, all seeming to be native islanders. There was a mature butler with a white beard, beside him a substantial woman whom Isobel took to be the housekeeper, and a few young girls who made up the rest of the household staff.

Mr. Cobb introduced the butler first. “This is Isaac.”

The man made his bows, and spoke in a raspy voice. “It is a pleasure to welcome the new lord and lady to Ravenwood Hall.”

“It is a pleasure to be here, Isaac,” Beckett replied.

“This is Josephine,” Mr. Cobb said. “The house-keeper of Ravenwood Hall.”

Beckett nodded at the woman. Her high cheek-bones and intimidating stare made Isobel feel as if she herself should be making a curtsy to Josephine, not the other way around.

“Welcome, m’lord,” she said in a voice as dark and rich as coffee.

“Thank you, Josephine,” Beckett replied. “I am sure our stay here will be very enjoyable now that we are in your capable hands.”

The woman nodded silently.

“May I introduce my wife. Lady Ravenwood,” Beckett said. “And this is her cat, Captain Black.”

Isobel smiled as Josephine looked suspiciously at the basket she held.

“You ’ave Captain Black in dat basket?” Josephine asked, raising her eyebrows.

Surprised, Isobel nodded.

“Captain Black is famous in dese islands,” she whispered to Isobel then pointed towards the door. “I will tell you all about him later. But come inside, now.”

They followed Josephine into their new home. The interior was stylish but not ornate. It had been decorated in vibrant colors too outrageous for London, but perfectly suitable for this island manor house. There were the usual comforts of home—a salon, a dining room, a small library. In each room, lovely arrangements of native flowers and plants made the house look and smell like a garden.

“We should like some tea in the salon please, Josephine,” Beckett said.

Josephine smiled and nodded. “Yes, m’lord.”

“Well, what do you think of your new home, Isobel?” he asked.

She turned to look at Beckett as she lifted Captain Black out of the basket, and felt a wave of mixed feelings wash over her. The house was lovely. Barbados was a paradise on Earth. Beckett was a kind and dutiful husband. But the circumstances that had brought her here cast a dark shadow over the island’s beauty, and over their marriage as well.

“I think it very beautiful, Beckett,” she replied. “Very beautiful, indeed.”

“That does not sound very convincing,” he said. “Come, let there be no more secrets between us, Lady Ravenwood. We have surely had enough of those.”

Isobel wondered if Beckett meant for his words to sting? He was acting like their marriage was all her fault, yet he had been the one keen to marry her so he could claim his inheritance.

“I meant what I said,” she answered. “This island, this home is indeed beautiful. I was only saddened by the memory of what brought us here in the first place. And you are right, Beckett. Secrets have no place in a marriage—even a marriage such as ours. And yet I find it strange to hear you say such a thing, when you yourself do not practice what you preach.”

Beckett’s eyes blazed for a moment. Then a barrier went up, cloaking their fire from view.

“You see? Even now you keep your feelings hidden from me.”

“Perhaps it is for your own good, my dear,” he said.

“So you are a hypocrite, then,” Isobel boldly replied. “You are allowed to keep secrets from me, and yet you are unable to forgive me for keeping those I did from you—even though I felt my life depended on it.”

“I am doing my best to be a dutiful husband, Isobel,” he said dangerously.

“Oh, yes. You are very dutiful indeed,” she continued. “A perfect gentleman, in fact. You treat me more like a sister than a wife.”

Beckett stepped closer to her. Strong hands curled around her arms and he pulled her close. “And what would you have me do, little wife? Hmm? You know not what you say.”

Isobel opened her mouth to reply, but Beckett silenced her with his own. His arms circled her, imprisoning her hard against his strong, muscled body. He parted her lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss until Isobel felt her legs would no longer hold her upright. She grabbed onto him for balance.

He broke the kiss, looking down at her with an intensity that threatened to ignite her like kindling where she stood.

Then, without so much as a glance over his shoulder, he turned and stalked from the room.

Chapter 14

Alone in his bed, Beckett was unable to sleep. His mind kept settling on Isobel. Every time he closed his eyes, it seemed he saw her with her hair spread out on a pillow, her body riding waves of pleasure as he made love to her.

He flipped over onto his side, punched the pillow to make it comfortable—though it was not in the least bit uncomfortable at all—and closed his eyes again.