Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) (15 page)

Season lost no time in scooting off the bed. She rushed toward the cabin door so quickly that Briggs had to run to catch up with her.

When Season reached the deck, she took a deep breath. A soft wind ruffled her hair, and the air smelled clean and crisp. It was good to be alive, to relish the feel of the warm sun on her face.

Crewmen scurried about, replacing broken timbers, while the sail master plied his needle to a torn sail. Everyone had a job to do; even James was bailing water out of the longboats and then replacing their canvas covers.

"How is it possible to exist in the center of a storm, Briggs," Season asked as she noted the dark clouds that surrounded the ship. She was astounded by this strange phenomenon of nature.

"Hurricanes ain't all that uncommon this time of year, my lady. The eye of the storm is always calm."

Suddenly Season's eyes were drawn to the helm of the ship. She drew in her breath when she saw the dark, hooded captain with his head bent over a map. It was the first time Season had seen him without his cape. His legs were spread apart in an arrogant stance, and she couldn't help but notice what a dashing, rakish man he was. He wore dark trousers tucked into knee-length black boots, and his white shirt had ruffles at the neck and on the wrists. The Raven exuded energy and power. Season almost felt that there was nothing he couldn't do. She understood why the crew of the
Andromeda
placed their faith in him.

Before Season could look away, The Raven raised his masked face, and she could tell he was looking directly at her. She remembered the night they had spent together and her cheeks burned, knowing he was remembering also.

"Briggs," the raspy voice called out. "If the lady has not eaten, now would be the time for her to have something light—nothing heavy since the worst of the storm is yet to come."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Shall I escort the lady below now?" Briggs asked.

With a quickness that surprised Season, the captain made his way down to her. As he drew near, she stood poised, ready for flight. When he leaped over a broken pile of rigging and landed right in front of her, she drew back quickly.

"I'll see to the lady's needs, Briggs," he said in his disturbing, raspy voice.

Briggs nodded and moved away, giving Season a smile. She wanted to call him back as he disappeared from view down the companionway.

"I see you are no worse for the storm, my lady," the captain said in a deep voice. It was unnerving for Season to know that The Raven was staring at her when she couldn't really see his eyes.

"Little you care," she said, turning her back and staring out on a surprisingly calm sea.

"Not so, my lady. Your comfort is always foremost on my mind."

Season could tell by his tone of voice that he was amused. "Why don't you just take me home? I can be of no further use to you now," she said, not bothering to turn in his direction.

"Where would you consider home?"

"You know I am talking about England."

"Am I to gather that you do not want to be set down near your husband-to-be who waits for you in New York?"

Season spun around to face The Raven, and her green eyes seemed to blaze with a slow fire. "You know I can never marry Edmund Kensworthy now. You saw to that!" She became aware that she had raised her voice and had attracted the attention of some of the crewmembers, so she spoke more quietly. "I don't want to marry any man. I will never allow a man to touch me again."

A heavy hand fell on Season's shoulder as The Raven leaned his head close to hers and spoke in a soft voice so only she could hear. "I am truly sorry for what happened between us the other night. If I could make amends I would do so."

Season was taken by surprise. She had expected anything from him but an apology. "Some things cannot be rectified, as you are aware. If you truly want to make amends you will set me free." She raised her head and stared at the black slits where his eyes should have been. "When will you release me?"

The dark hood dipped. "Unfortunately, at the moment I am unable to comply with your wishes, my lady. The port we make for is a long way from your country or mine."

"Where are we bound?"

"We are on our way to the Barbary States, my lady.

At least we were until this storm blew us off course." "The Barbary States are a pesthole and a pirate stronghold! I have heard it said that the pirate ships which sail from the Barbary Coast prey on vessels from every country with equal disdain and disrespect." "So you have heard of the Barbary States?" "Hasn't everyone? I fear such a place." The Raven threw back his head and laughed deeply. "You need have no fear for your person, my lady. I would never allow anything to happen to so valuable a cargo as yourself."

"What could happen to me that hasn't already occurred? The only thing that remains is for you to take my life, which I am sure you would do without hesitation should the mood strike you."

Season could feel the captain's anger as he grabbed her arm and half-carried, half-dragged her across the deck. When she tried to put up a struggle, she could see the amusement on the faces of the crewmembers. As they reached the companionway, The Raven lifted Season into his arms and carried her below. Striding into the cabin, he tossed her onto the bed.

"You have been a trial to me and a thorn in my side ever since I first laid eyes on you," he ground out from between clenched teeth.

Season scrambled to her knees, ready to do battle with the man should the need arise. "I am delighted if I have caused you trouble!" she cried out. "I hope I have also caused you many sleepless nights."

The Raven's hand reached out, and he softly touched Season's face. For the moment she was too stunned to move. "Oh, you have, my lady. Take comfort in the fact that you have danced through my mind day and night." Before Season could push his hand away, he turned and walked to the door, laughing. At the door he turned to her.

"I meant what I said about eating a light meal. The storm will be at least as strong as the one we had last night. I am sure you wouldn't wish to lose your dinner. Don't forget to tie yourself to the bed as you did before." Without another word The Raven swept out of the room and Season heard the key grate in the lock. Season stared at the locked door. She wished she dared call him back. For some reason when he had been with her she had forgotten about the impending storm. She lay on the bed, feeling the gentle sway of the Andromeda, and she wondered if they would weather the backside of the hurricane as well as they had the front.

It was almost sundown when the sea began to throw its heavy waves against the ship. Season knew this storm would be every bit as devastating as its predecessor, but she was prepared to weather it alone since James hadn't come to her cabin.

She decided she wouldn't lash herself to the bed this time. If the Andromeda were going to sink, she didn't want to go to a watery grave tied to a bedpost. It didn't take long for Season to realize her mistake. The second time she was thrown onto the floor, she decided it would be wise to tie herself to the bed.

As she huddled in the darkened cabin, Season realized she had never felt so alone. The waves raged and pounded against the hull of the
Andromeda
until Season felt she was living a nightmare. If the ship were to sink, would the others forget that she was locked below in this cabin? she wondered frantically.

The night seemed endless. She had eaten nothing at all, but still her stomach was heaving. At times, when the ship pitched forward and aft, she was sure they were sinking. The wind blew with a vengeance against the tiny craft and the noise from the storm was deafening.

Season tried to think of something pleasant to take her mind off the danger. She remembered the summer she had turned sixteen and her father had unexpectedly come home to help her celebrate. It had been one of the rare occasions when he had been home for her birthday. That had been the year her father had given her Cinibar. On that occasion he had been in a rare good humor, owing, he had told her, to the fact that he'd seen one of his laws passed in the House of Lords.

Season tried to think of the smell of the honeysuckle that climbed the walls of the summerhouse. Each day in the spring she had walked in the gardens at Chatsworth, taking a book with her so she could curl up in the summerhouse and read.

Against her will, Season's mind seemed to turn to the dark master of the Andromeda. Seeing him without his cape, she had noticed that he was tall and muscled, that his shoulders were extremely broad and his waist trim. His legs were long and powerful, and his hands, tanned by the sun, were strong. His body was that of a young man, but what about his face? Would he be ugly and grotesque? She knew he wasn't scarred, because she had felt his face. He'd been clean-shaven and his hair was shoulder length. It was amazing how much she knew about his appearance, and yet she couldn't put a face to him.

Try as she would, Season couldn't seem to get The Raven out of her mind. There were so many things about him that she didn't know—that she might never know.

Suddenly a huge wave crashed against the hull of the Andromeda, causing the ship to roll. The sound of splintering wood told Season there had been great damage. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed with all her might. In that moment, she was sure they were sinking!

Would The Raven come to her in her dying moments? she wondered. Would he take her in his arms so they could die together? Season didn't stop to analyze her feelings, she only knew that if she were going to die she wanted to be in the arms of the man who now owned her body.

Season began to cry loudly, but her voice couldn't be heard against the howling of the wind. She wasn't aware that the cabin door had opened until a knife sliced through the rope tied about her waist.

"I knew you would be frightened, so I came to you," said the deep voice of The Raven. He pulled her into his arms, and though his clothing was wet, Season threw her arms about his neck. "The storm is all but over, my lady. Briggs can now handle the ship from here on out."

She buried her face against his broad chest, and he could feel her slight body tremble. "Are you quite sure we are not going to die?" she cried.

"Quite sure, my sweet, sweet lady." His hands were tender as he ran them soothingly up and down her back. "You should have known I would never allow anything as insignificant as a storm to harm you."

His deep voice immediately had a calming effect on Season. She felt her eyelids getting heavy. Wrapped in a feeling of well-being and safety, she buried her face against his neck.

Season was unaware that she was drifting off to sleep. She never knew it when The Raven laid her back on the bed and pulled the covers over her. She didn't hear him when he walked out of the cabin silently, to return to the helm of the ship.

11

Season awoke to a calm sea. Opening her eyes, she found bright sunlight filtering in through the porthole. It took her a moment to get her bearings. The cabin was in total disarray. Since the maps and logs hadn't been removed from the shelves, they were scattered over the floor.

Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw the cabin door standing slightly ajar. The door had never before been left open. Season arose on shaky legs and made her way across the cabin. She peeked around the door and saw no one about, so she walked up the companionway.

On deck, the sight that greeted her was a pleasant surprise. They were anchored off the shore of a small island! Season could see white sandy beaches. Behind them palm trees swayed in the warm tropical breeze.

"Morning, ma'am," James greeted her cheerfully.

Season gave the cabin boy an answering smile. "Where are we?"

"This is an uncharted island where we often put in for fresh water and to make needed repairs. The storm damaged the
Andromeda
's mast last night, and it has to be replaced today."

"Will I be allowed to go ashore, James?" Season asked hopefully. She had often read books about the tropics, but she'd never dreamed she would see them for herself. Looking toward shore, she could see that the palm trees ran the length of the island. Seeing pictures of them in a book isn't the same as seeing them in person, she thought. There seemed to be miles and miles of white sandy beach, which she would like very much to explore.

"Me and Briggs remained aboard waiting for you to wake up, ma'am. The captain said we was to allow you to sleep as long as possible and then bring you ashore," James told her excitedly.

"Are there any cannibals or unfriendly natives living on the island?" Season wanted to know.

"No, ma'am, the island is too small and rocky to be inhabited. There ain't nothing but bird life and sea turtles that live there."

"Wait until I change my clothing," Season called as she hurried below. Season quickly slipped into a pink and white candy-striped gown, and twisted her long hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. She frowned at her pink satin slippers, wishing she had a more sensible pair of shoes but knowing these would have to do.

When she reached the deck, she found Briggs and James waiting for her. At Briggs's direction, Season climbed down the rope ladder and into the waiting longboat.

As they approached the island, Season could feel her excitement mounting. How good it felt to be alive! She could hardly wait to feel solid ground beneath her feet.

As the boat touched shore, Briggs climbed into the water and held his arms out to Season. When he saw her hesitate, he smiled. "You wouldn't want to ruin your pretty slippers now, would you, my lady? If you will allow it, I will carry you to shore."

Season nodded and allowed him to lift her into his arms. When he placed her on the sandy beach, her legs felt stiff and she had trouble keeping her balance. Turning around in a circle, she tried to drink in all the beauty of the island. She was sure she had never seen such a blue sky, nor water such a deep aqua color. The palm trees swayed in the gentle trade wind, and the warm sun seemed to kiss her cheeks.

Many of the ship's crew were on the beach mending sails, while others were cutting timber to replace the splintered mast. Off to the left, Season could see two men building an open campfire. Everything seemed so tranquil after last night's storm.

"It's nice ain't it, ma'am," James said, coming up behind Season.

"Perhaps one must experience a near scrape with death to be able to fully appreciate life, James," she said thoughtfully. Season reached down, picked up a handful of white sand, and allowed it to sift through her fingers. "It's just so good to be alive," she whispered.

By now feeling was returning to Season's legs and she wanted to see everything. "Come on, James, let us go exploring!" she cried excitedly as she gathered up the skirt of her gown and ran down the beach. She dodged in and out among the palm trees that grew near the water's edge where the waves lapped the shore.

She was unaware she was being watched by a man who stood on a rise some twenty paces away. He couldn't help thinking how childlike and carefree Season appeared at that moment. He watched as she and James headed for a cove where they would be hidden from the ship's crew.

Season picked up the skirt of her gown and tucked it about her waist. She then removed her sand-filled slippers and tossed them aside. When she grasped James's hand, they both ran laughingly toward the sea.

The man who watched them pulled his leather helm over his head and then made his way down the slope to where his men were working on the mast.

The wind had loosened Season's hair, so she had removed the pins and allowed it to blow free. She was now gathering seashells and piling them on the beach. James showed her how she could hold the larger shells to her ear and hear the sound of the sea.

Finally, as evening began to fall, she sat down, her back braced against a palm tree. Her bare feet peeped from beneath her gown as she closed her eyes and listened to the soothing sound of the waves lapping at the shore. Season couldn't remember a day in her life when she had enjoyed herself more.

She did not hear the soft footsteps that approached her from behind, and she was unaware that the captain motioned for James to leave.

"I would give a golden doubloon to know what you are thinking, my lady," the raspy voice said.

Season opened her eyes and smiled. "My thoughts have never before brought such a high price."

The Raven eased himself down beside her, removed a coin from his pocket, and tossed it into her lap. "I have paid the price; now you must tell me your thoughts, my lady."

She laughed and picked up the Spanish coin. "You will find you have paid too much, sir. I was merely wishing I could sleep on the beach tonight. I have never before slept beneath the open sky. It would be a great adventure, would it not?"

"Your wish is my command, my lady. I see no reason why you cannot sleep on the beach."

"Are you saying that I may sleep here tonight?" she asked excitedly.

"Indeed I am. If it is your pleasure, I cannot find it in my heart to deny you so simple a request."

"It will not be dangerous, will it?" she asked, wondering why the captain had given in so easily.

"I shall be your watchdog and protector," he said in a deep voice.

"But who will protect me from you, Captain?" she asked, hating how breathless her voice sounded.

"Who will protect me from you, my lady," he countered.

"I have changed my mind," she said. The Raven was sitting much too close for her peace of mind. His proximity recalled the intimacy they had shared. "I don't really want to sleep on the beach."

For the first time, Season noticed that James was nowhere in sight; she and the captain were alone! She started to scramble to her feet, intending to leave, but The Raven reached out and placed a restraining hand on her arm.

"Abide with me for a moment, my lady. I have brought you a feast such as you have never tasted."

Season watched The Raven with frightened eyes. "What is it?" Season asked, wishing James would quickly return. She noticed for the first time that the captain held something wrapped in palm leaves.

He placed one of the palm leaves on Season's lap, and when she lifted the edge of the leaf, she was greeted by the most delicious aroma.

"This is fish baked the way it was intended to be prepared. The ship's cook, Digger, wrapped it in palm leaves, then covered it with hot coals, allowing it to bake until tender."

Season had forgotten how hungry she was, and her mouth watered at the scent of this delicacy. She picked up a flaky piece of fish and popped it into her mouth. "Mmm, this is wonderful," she declared.

"You are in for another treat, my lady. Have you ever tasted the milk of a coconut?"

"No, but I have read about it in a book."

He chuckled. "It would seem you have read about almost everything in a book. Reading is not the same as experiencing," he said, reaching into a bag and withdrawing a round brownish object. Season watched with interest as he punctured the coconut with his knife and then handed it to her.

"Drink from the hole," he instructed.

Season gave him a doubtful glance. At first she took a small sip, but finding the taste sweet and pleasant, she drank deeply.

The Raven laughed as coconut milk dripped down Season's chin. Reaching out, he wiped the milk away with his finger. "After you have eaten the fish, I will introduce you to the meat of the coconut," he said, and Season could hear the smile in his voice.

Season was surprised to find herself feeling comfortable in his company. She had no fear of him at the moment because he was being pleasant and charming. Taking another bite of the fish, she noticed the captain wasn't eating.

"Are you not hungry, Captain?" she asked, holding a generous slice of fish out to him.

"As much as I would like to dine with you, this helm makes it quite impossible."

She smiled up at him impishly. "You could always take it off," she suggested.

"Alas, my lady, I must decline—that is not possible."

The Raven noticed she had eaten all the fish, so he broke open a coconut and handed her the tender white meat. Season took a bite and found she liked the meat even better than the milk.

After she had eaten her fill, Season stood up and walked down to the water's edge to wash her hands in the salty brine. "How long do we stay on this island?" Season called to the captain who still sat under the palm tree, watching her.

"If all goes well, we should put to sea sometime tomorrow evening."

"Was the
Andromeda
badly damaged by the storm?" she inquired.

"Less so than I feared."

"The storm was very frightening," she said, returning to him and sitting down once more.

The Raven watched her green eyes as she stared out to sea, and he knew she had never had more appeal for him. "Yes, but you and the
Andromeda
both fared well, my lady," he declared in his deep raspy voice.

The Raven reached out, intending to touch a golden curl that nestled against Season's cheek, but when he saw her pull away, he dropped his hand to his side.

Season looked at the setting sun. It appeared to be dropping into the sea as its magnificent dying embers painted the sky a brilliant red. It seemed the sea was afire.

She turned her head to look at the captain, but he was staring out to sea and seemed unaware of her. This gave her the chance to study him up close. His long, boot-clad legs were stretched out in front of him, and his white shirt was unlaced at the throat, revealing the black curly hair on his chest. His sun-browned hand rested lightly on his thigh. Season felt a tightening in her throat. It was as if he were pulling her toward him, yet he hadn't even touched her.

Raising her head, she found he was watching her.

"You are so lovely," he said in a soft voice. "I have seen you with your hair powdered, but I prefer it as it now is. It is much too beautiful to hide under artificial color. Never powder it again," he told her.

"I don't like ... I usually don't.. ."

She flinched as he reached out and took a golden tress between his thumb and finger, caressing it softly.

"I am in danger, my lady—grave danger," he murmured in a soft voice.

Why is it, Season wondered, when he says, my lady, it sounds as if he is calling her,
his
lady?

"How, and from whom, are you in danger, Captain?" she asked breathlessly.

His hand drifted from her hair to her chin. "The how is you, and the whom is you, my lady," he whispered.

"I don’t . . . think ... I would never—"

"Shh," he whispered, as he placed a finger over her lips. "You are safe enough from me, for I cannot kiss you with this helm on, and I cannot remove it just now."

Season felt a slow-moving fire course through her body, and she tried to think of something to say that would take her mind off the dark captain.

"You said you saw me with my hair powdered. Were you at the ball when I met Edmund?" she asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

He laughed deeply. "You are always full of questions, but if you must know, yes, I saw you at the ball."

Season's green eyes sparkled. "Did I talk to you that night?" she wanted to know.

"I do not think you paid the slightest attention to me that night, my lady. But I, like every other man at the ball, was overcome by your beauty," he said in a voice full of amusement.

"I was never introduced to you, or I would have remembered," she said, trying not to listen to the compliment he had just paid her.

"I believe you are fishing, my lady," he replied good-naturedly. "Would you have me tell you all my secrets?"

Season noticed that it was almost completely dark. There were thousands of stars twinkling in the ebony skies, but she saw that there would be no moon to lighten the dark tonight. She stood up and dusted the sand from her gown.