The Captain's Caress (22 page)

She walked around a couch with a sculpted mahogany frame, then dropped onto its thick cushions, and stared ahead unseeingly. A soft knock at the door made her start up from the sofa like some forest creature looking for a place to hide. The knock came again, more insistently this time.

“Come in,” she managed to say, one hand clutching her throat and the other grasping the arm of the sofa.

Chapter 19

The door opened and a bright, pixie-faced girl tripped into the room, words tumbling from her mouth in a torrent. She both surprised and reassured Summer.

“Señora,
I’m your new maid! Isn’t it wonderful that I don’t have to make beds and clean up after messy people. Oh!” she stared at Summer, open-mouthed and unabashed. “The
señora
is so very beautiful. You are like a princess.”

“I’m not a princess.” Summer felt more like a frightened charwoman than royalty. “I’m really no one at all.” Heartened by the girl’s extreme youth, she managed a weak smile.

“You must not say that. Señor Alonzo told me that you were a real countess. He said I must be very careful not to make any mistakes.” She suddenly looked suspiciously at Summer. “You
are
a countess, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Wait until I tell María,” the girl squealed, clapping her hands with glee. “She will be eaten up with jealousy, the black-eyed slut!” She clapped a hand over her mouth and stared apprehensively at Summer.
“Madre
de Dios,
señora,
I beg your pardon. My horrible tongue.”

“It’s all right.” Summer laughed, relieved to find her maid a guileless child and not the censorious woman she had feared. “I’ve often wanted to say something like that myself.”

The girl broke into a giggle totally devoid of contrition. “I know I shouldn’t say such things, and I confess to Padre Miguel every week, but I can’t stop. María says I’ll get into trouble someday, but I don’t care for anything
she
says. She’s a mean-hearted girl, and green with jealousy. You should have heard her scream when Alonzo said I was to be your maid and that she had to clean the rooms.”

“I’m sure she is everything you say,” Summer said. She decided to try to stem the flow of unwanted confidences. “But we can forget about her for the time being.”

“It’s impossible to forget María,” the young maid declared emphatically.

“I’d prefer to talk about you,” Summer stated. “I’d really like to know your name. I can’t go around pointing at you every time I want something.”

“Perdôneme señora,”
she said, a delighted laugh rippling from her. “My name is Chichi.”

“Chichi?” repeated Summer, curiously. “That’s such an unusual name.”

“I was christened Dolores Isabella Carlotta Beatrix,” Chichi announced proudly.

“My goodness. What a lot of names for such a little girl.”

“Nobody ever used them. My father said I chattered like a monkey. That’s why he called me Chichi. Even my mother stopped calling me Dolores before I was six.”

“I think Chichi is a charming name, and I’m glad you’re my maid,” Summer declared. “I was afraid they would send me some stiff Spanish lady who would disapprove of everything I did.”

“Margarita would never agree to be maid to an English lady,” Chichi told her earnestly. “She thinks all the English are sinners and seducers.” The girl giggled. “She says that their souls will be the devil’s food.”

“Who is Margarita?” Summer felt overwhelmed by the introduction of yet another person.

“She’s the housekeeper,” said Chichi. She mimicked the walk and the stance of a stout, scowling, ungraceful woman. “She’s always crossing herself and saying that the devil will devour our souls every time we laugh.
Estúpida!”

“How horrid. I had no idea that Spanish devils were so hungry.”

Chichi’s tinkling laugh erupted spontaneously. “We think the devil tried to eat her soul, but it was so tough it gave him a stomach ache.” She was overcome by laughter once again, but it stopped abruptly at a knock and the appearance of Alonzo.

“The countess’s trunks have arrived,” he announced sternly. As proof of his words, two young men struggled in under the weight of Summer’s largest chest. “See that the
señora’s
clothes are unpacked right away.” He glowered at the unrepentant Chichi until she took refuge behind Summer. When he turned to direct the men bearing Summer’s second trunk, the spritely little maid made a face at him and then dashed for the safety of the bedchamber.

“If the
señora
is not satisfied with her maid, I will be happy to send another,” Alonzo offered.

“No, I’m quite happy with Chichi.” Summer schooled her features to impassivity.

Alonzo’s rigid face relaxed into a smile. “She’s a good girl, really, but she will talk the hind leg off a donkey. You have to be very firm with her.”

“I don’t mind. She amuses me.”

“If you are quite certain,” he said. He wondered if Captain Douglas would feel the same.

“Have you found a maid for the countess yet?” Brent demanded as he came into the room, his very presence charging it with energy.

“She’s already unpacking the countess’s trunks.”

“Good. When will Clothilde be here?”

“I’m not certain,” stammered Alonzo, avoiding those penetrating eyes. “I have not yet received an answer to my message.”

“Good God, man, we can’t sit about all day. The Governor’s reception is tonight, and the countess has nothing to wear.”

“I don’t think Madame Clothilde will be able to provide a gown on such short notice.”

“What you think doesn’t matter. You did tell her I wanted her at once, didn’t you?” Brent demanded brusquely, fixing Alonzo with the glare that never failed to reduce his crew to quaking incoherence.

“She must not have had time to respond to your wishes,” Alonzo finally replied.

“Why not? Send someone over there and tell her to drop whatever she’s doing.”

“I’ll have your message delivered right away,” Alonzo said, quickly, glad to have an excuse to escape Brent’s mounting temper.

“Perhaps we could go to Madame Clothilde’s shop,” Summer suggested.

“She can come here,” Brent grumbled. He was completely out of patience. “She charges enough to take the trouble.”

“But she doesn’t know my size, my coloring, or what I look like. She can’t possibly have any idea of what to bring for me to look at.”

Alonzo paused in the doorway.

“I’ve already asked her to come here,” Brent stated determinedly.

“I’m sure she’ll be more willing to try to find a dress for me if we make it easier on her. Her regular customers have probably ordered gowns for tonight as well.”

“To hell with her regular customers,” Brent stormed.

“You can’t expect her to see this from your point of view. She won’t want to endanger her regular income for someone who will be here only a short time,” Summer pointed out rationally.

“All right,” Brent finally said.

Summer turned to Alonzo. “Tell her we’ll come to her shop as soon as she can be ready to receive us.”

“Right now,” Brent growled.

“Ask the messenger to hurry,” Summer suggested, unwilling to test Brent’s temper too far.

“I’ll send María to her shop at once,” said Alonzo. “Is there anything else before I go?”

“We’d like something to eat.”

“Certainly,” said Alonzo, bowing himself out.

“How that great fool manages to run this hotel I’ll never know,” Brent observed.

“With men like you making absurd demands at every turn, his job is not an easy one,” remarked Summer.

“Now listen to me,
señora,”
Brent sarcastically mimicked Alonzo.

“No, you listen to
me.
I won’t go to this reception if you intend to make a scene everytime something happens. I won’t even step outside this room if the whole town is going to be buzzing with stories about my unreasonable demands and your temper.”

Brent surprised Summer by looking disappointed instead of angry. “Don’t you like staying at this hotel?”

“It makes me feel positively wonderful,” Summer said quickly, “when it’s not scaring me to death. Why did I ever let you talk me into leaving the ship?” she groaned. “Maybe that wretched Clothilde won’t have anything for me to wear and I won’t have to go after all. Chichi can stay with me.”

“Clothilde will find something if she has to spend the rest of the day sewing it herself. And who is this Chichi? She doesn’t sound like a suitable companion for you.”

“She’s not a companion.” Summer laughed. “She’s my maid.”

“If that fool Alonzo has palmed off one of his sluts on you, I’ll wrap this crucifix around his Spanish neck.” Brent picked up a large bronze cross from a side table.

“She’s not a slut,” Summer said indignantly. “She has a long list of proper Spanish names, but her father calls her Chichi because she chatters like a monkey.”

“I’m going to see just what kind of joke Alonzo thinks he’s playing.” Brent stalked toward the bedroom door. “You,” he shouted, “come out here at once.”

Chichi catapulted through the door, nearly running into Brent. She gasped in fright at seeing his great size and the murderous look on his face.
“Nombre de Dios!”
she exclaimed, backing up a few steps. “Surely this is Margarita’s devil.” Summer was seized by a fit of giggles as the two took a moment to size each other up. When Brent saw that Chichi was indeed a charming young girl with a turned-up nose and a slim figure, his frown changed to an appreciative smile.

Chichi, too, had had a chance to appreciate Brent and to become aware of his magnetism. Her eyes began to twinkle, and she responded to his frank gaze with a pouting little smile and lowered lashes. “So,
Señora,
is this your earl?” she said moving closer to Brent and looking him over quite brazenly. “I would never have the courage to go behind the bedroom door with him. Surely he would swallow me in one gulp.” Brent let out a crack of laughter, but Summer’s mirth suddenly vanished.

“No, he’s not my earl, you impertinent child. He’s the captain of my ship.”

“Your
ship?” Brent asked.

“My ship,” Summer repeated emphatically.

“The earl has entrusted me with the protection of his good lady,” Brent explained more soberly, “and I’m taking her back to Scotland.”

“This earl,” said Chichi, a gleam in her eye, “either he is a god or a great fool.”

Summer turned to her. “What do you mean?”

“Look at him,” Chichi said, talking to Summer as if she were instructing a particularly dull child. “Is he not beautiful? Who but a
loco
would trust his young wife to cross an ocean with a devil like this? It is madness. It is tempting the Fates.”

Summer prayed for an earthquake to swallow her.

“You’re stretching my tolerance too far,” Brent said. “You’re pert and insolent, and your extremely foolish remarks have distressed the countess.”

Chichi looked conscience-stricken. She ran around the sofa and knelt in front of Summer. “Please forgive my stupid tongue,
señora.
I would cut it out before I would make you cry.”

“You should have thought of that before you opened your mouth,” Brent said scornfully.

“Please don’t send me away. I’ll die if you do,” Chichi said, taking Summer’s hand and pressing it to her cheek.

Summer was recovering. “No, I won’t do that. Alonzo might send me Margarita, and I wouldn’t like her.”

Chichi revived instantly.

“But if you ever do anything like that again,
I’ll
throw you out,” Brent said, his tone leaving no doubt in Chichi’s mind that he would be as good as his word. “But I’ll give you a good beating first,” he added. “Have you finished the unpacking?”

“Not yet.”

“Then you’d better get it done if you don’t want to be mopping halls before noon.” Chichi rose to her feet and walked quickly toward the bedroom door, but she turned around before going through it. She regarded Brent with a speculative eye. “This earl of yours, milady, what does he look like?”

“I beg your pardon?” Summer was taken off balance by this unexpectedly forthright question.

“Why do you want to know?” Brent demanded, a note of warning in his voice.

“Me, I could not do it,” Chichi said and disappeared through the door. A muscle twitched at the corner of Summer’s mouth. She looked up at Brent, who was staring after Chichi, his glaring look a mixture of anger and reluctant admiration, and the improbability of the whole situation struck her. She suddenly began to shake with ill-contained amusement.

“That impertinent wench will be strangled to death someday,” Brent said with conviction.

“Not by you, I hope,” Summer responded. “She thinks you’re
so
beautiful,” she said imitating Chichi, and then she fell into a chair, laughing.

For a moment Brent looked undecided, then he, too, broke into a grin. “Are you sure you want to keep her?”