The Captain's Caress (26 page)

“Cruel!” he protested in mock despair as he slid to his knees before her with practiced ease. “Can you look upon these features I modestly claim as my own and dare to deny their hypnotizing effect on all beholders?”

“Quite easily,” she answered promptly.

“Pitiless maiden,” he groaned. “You have a heart of ice. I shall make it my task to melt it.”

“Do get up and stop acting like a buffoon,” begged Summer. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “I’m not a maiden, and if any of these hateful, disapproving women were to see us they would start the most alarming rumors.”

“You’re far too beautiful for the women to like you.” Gonsalvo seated himself beside her. “You will have to resign yourself to being an outcast among your own sex, like the marquise.”

“Don’t you dare speak my name in the same breath with that
siren’s!”
Summer commanded, trembling with suppressed anger. Her lighthearted mood was totally vanquished.

“When one thinks of the marquise, one also thinks of you, one beautiful thought giving birth to another,” Gonsalvo explained with a smile. “She is famed for her thoughtless cruelty while you have earned a reputation for gracious modesty. Already the young caballeros are divided as to who is more beautiful. Many hold with the marquise because of her lush sensuality, but her adherents are steadily being whittled down by your spectacular figure and haunting loveliness.”

“It is most improper for you to talk to me like this.” It frightened Summer to learn that she could be the focus of any kind of controversy.

“Don’t you want to know what people are saying?” Gonsalvo was undeterred by her criticism.

“No!” she replied vehemently.

“Not even if it’s in your favor?”

“Not even then,” Summer insisted, but not so firmly.

“You’re right,” Gonsalvo said, hanging his head in pretended chagrin. “I don’t know what could have caused me to behave with such a lack of taste.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” scolded Summer eyeing him skeptically.

“I am,” Gonsalvo professed with supposed sincerity.

“No you’re not,” Summer said calmly. “You’re laughing at me, and don’t mean a word you’ve said. You’re just about the most brazen man I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that were true.” Gonsalvo smiled at her with a genuinely open look that melted her ire. “But since Captain Douglas’s reputation for audacity is known throughout the Caribbean, I really doubt that it can be.” Summer’s heart lurched, and she quickly looked away to hide the grimace of pain she could not suppress.

“It is true that the captain is a bold man,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but I don’t imagine that you’re any different in your own way.”

“I’m quite flattered to be held the captain’s equal, Countess, but I know him well, and I’m compelled to admit that I have yet to discover his like.” Gonsalvo’s mocking eyes watched Summer closely, but she did not look up. Her heart ached so agonizingly, she wondered if she would be able to go on with the conversation.

“The captain is not without faults for all his renown.” Her voice threatened to break.

“You tell me the captain’s faults,” Gonsalvo instantly was transformed into a conspiratorial child, “and I’ll tell you everything I know about the marquise.”

“I would never do anything so ill-mannered,” she said, choking on the words. She could never tell anyone what Brent had done to her; it was locked inside her forever.

“But it would be so much fun. And it’s not as though I’m a stranger. I’ve known the captain for quite some time; I’ve even done business with him. He asked me to keep an eye on you tonight.” When Summer looked at him sharply, Gonsalvo added, “Oh, just to see that you didn’t come to any harm.”

“If you know the captain that well, you don’t need any information from me.”

“Not even one little bit of gossip?” he begged.

“No.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to bribe you.”

“You can’t.” Summer was indignant.

“Are you sure?” he asked, for all the world as though he were offering her a second serving of dessert.

“Absolutely.”

“That’s too bad. I was sure you would like to meet my sister and spend the day on our plantation. You could go horseback riding, take a boat trip along the river, or spend the afternoon in idleness under the mahogany trees, enjoying the cool breezes and a delicious drink.”

“That’s a cruel temptation,” said Summer.

“I never would have told you if I’d thought you could be tempted,” he replied with feigned innocence.

“You told me because you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist. Do you really have a sister?”

“I do, and my parents would be delighted to welcome you to Casa Carvalho. I will go find her right now, and then you can come visit us tomorrow.”

“That’s too soon,” said Summer, flustered by the unexpectedly swift turn of the conversation. “I’m not sure what my immediate plans are.”

“How long will you stay in Havana?”

“I don’t really know,” she muttered uncomfortably. “I suppose that depends on how long it takes Captain Douglas to dispose of his cargo. A few weeks maybe?” she said questioningly, expecting him to know more about the sale of cargo than she did.

“My sister and parents will be leaving in ten days and will be gone for quite some time.”

“I’m sure I will have returned to Scotland before they come back.” Summer’s disappointment was evident.

“Are your days all taken up?”

“No”

“Could we arrange an afternoon visit?”

“I suppose so. In fact, there’s nothing to keep me from it.” If Brent was deputizing his friend to watch her, then why shouldn’t she visit him? she asked herself angrily. After all, doing so would make it easier for Gonsalvo to keep an eye on her.

“Splendid. How about the end of the week?”

“Fine.”

“I’ll bring my sister to see you as soon as I can find her,” Gonsalvo said. “My parents have already met you, and will look forward to seeing you again.”

“Are you sure they will welcome me?” she asked, suddenly serious. “You aren’t just saying that to get me to visit, are you?”

“Yes to both of your questions,” he replied with a disarming smile. “My parents have already commented on your graciousness and dignity, and I know Anita would love you. She has already asked me to introduce her.” Summer remembered the coldly formal couple she had met several nights before and doubted that Gonsalvo was sticking too closely to the truth, but she decided not to concern herself with that. The chance to get out of Havana, away from Brent and the marquise for even a few hours, was too inviting to resist. As long as she had been invited, she would go.

“It will also give me a chance to talk to you without being interrupted by youthful swains bearing drinks.” Gonsalvo pointed to a young man who was looking for her amid the shrubbery.

“You are totally without conscience.” Summer laughed. “And I probably shouldn’t accept your invitation at all.”

“But I haven’t invited you. My parents will invite you, and you will be visiting my sister.”

“I’m not quite sure I trust you, but I think I will come anyway—only if your sister will be present.”

“She’ll be there. And as a sign of my good intentions I’m going to disappear before your young man comes back.” The hot and baffled swain had finally caught sight of Summer and was hastening to her side.

“Thereby investing a chance meeting with all the trappings of an illicit assignation,” Summer informed him.

“There’s no satisfying you,” he complained. “Whatever I do, you want something else.”

“Isn’t that the way of all accredited beauties?” she asked ingenuously. “I was just trying to follow Roussillon’s example.”

“Spare me,” he said without humor. “We have the original. A copy is totally unnecessary.”

“Unkind.” Summer was secretly pleased to find that at least one of her rivals was not so universally admired as she had supposed. “But I promise to behave as I ought. Now my sober escort draws near so you must go away. Your irreverent tongue is liable to cause me to say something that will disgrace me with the whole city.”

“Nothing could do that.”

“Well, I have no desire to tempt Fate too far. You must disappear at once.”

“Your servant, Countess,” he declared, and disappeared into the shrubbery.

Chapter 23

“Did the
señora
enjoy the evening?” Chichi asked as she helped Summer out of her light cloak.

“Not very much,” Summer replied, wilting onto the sofa. She was getting used to accepting invitations on her own, but she had never given up hope that one evening Brent would suddenly appear and would go with her.

“How could you not enjoy wearing such beautiful clothes and meeting such grand people?” Chichi could not believe that possible.

“Can’t you think of anything except social affairs, clothing, and men?” Why should Chichi be any different from herself? She could never think of anybody except Brent.

“What else is there to think about?” Chichi asked in wideeyed wonder.

“Lots of things.” Summer sighed. “But I can see it would be a waste of breath to point them out.”

“Did the
señora
have lots of suitors?”

“Yes, you abominable girl. I had every man in the place at my feet begging for a dance and swearing he would cut his throat if I didn’t give him the flowers from my hair.”

“Oh,
señora,”
Chichi was ecstatic, “I knew you would slay them with your beauty.”

“Hush, you absurd child. Nothing like that really happened.” Summer went to the dressing table. “I’m only making fun of you.”

“Men didn’t ask you for dances?” Chichi asked, shocked.

“Well, yes, they did.”

“And they didn’t admire you?”

“Yes. At least, they said they did.”

“And didn’t you meet lots of rich and important people?” the girl asked, almost dancing around the room.

“Of course.”

“Then you
did
have a good time.” Chichi was delighted at having proven that Summer had enjoyed herself.

“You’d better hurry and help me get undressed, or I’ll never get to bed,” Summer chided. “Then I’ll look like such a hag everyone will say that the countess is a witch and the sooner Captain Douglas takes her back to Scotland, the better.” There were times when Summer almost hoped that Brent would take her to Scotland. At least they would be alone at sea, and maybe they could rekindle what they had felt for each other before reaching Havana.

“No one would dare to say such a cruel and stupid thing,” Chichi stated categorically as she helped Summer out of her gown. “I know you were the most beautiful woman there tonight.”

“But I wasn’t. There were many beautiful women present.”

“And who was as beautiful as the
señora?”
Chichi asked skeptically.

“Several ladies.”

“Name just one,” the little maid challenged.

“Roussillon de Cabrera,” said Summer.

“Bah!” said Chichi scornfully. “She is lovely, but more mean-spirited than María.”

“How do you know?”

“I have seen her.”

“Where?”

“Here, at the hotel. Señorita de Cabrera does not wish to behave like a nice Spanish girl. She sometimes goes where another would not dare.”

“She’s old enough to know how to conduct herself.”

“She’s too old,” sniffed Chichi with all the bravado of a sixteen-year-old. “She couldn’t find anyone to suit her until she met the captain, but even with all her money, she is a shrew.”

“How do you know this?” Summer demanded. “I will not have you telling me idle gossip.”

“Oh no,
señora,
I would not tell you lies. The
señorita
cannot keep a maid. Havana is full of girls who tell of her selfishness.”

“She seemed to be doing a lot of thinking about someone else this evening,” Summer said savagely.

Chichi’s tinkling laughter erupted and all seriousness faded from her face. “She thinks about the captain all the time.”

“I’m tired of talking about her,” Summer said petulantly. She twisted away from Chichi. “Besides there was a marquise there who was much more beautiful than Señorita de Cabrera.”

“Señora Tragetto was there?” asked Chichi awestruck. “Did you talk with her?”

“Just a few words,” Summer was at a loss to account for Chichi’s look of stupefaction.

“What is she like? Is her skin as white as milk? Do the flames in her eyes really enslave all men? Is she really a witch?” Chichi asked breathlessly.

“I’m sure she’s not a witch.” Summer stood up to rid herself of her corset and petticoat. “But it is true that men flock around her.” She wouldn’t care if the whole world threw itself at the marquise’s feet just as long as Brent did not.

“Does she make men helpless? Do they fight just to hold her fan?” Chichi begged, enthralled.