by Linda Ladd
"If you have finished, perhaps we can move to the drawing room."
"Do I have a choice?"
"No, but you may retire shortly, unless you wish to keep me company for a time."
There was not a chance in Hades of that, Caitlin thought, watching as he strode down the length of the table with his easy masculine grace. Self-assured, self-confident, self-righteous. It sickened her to be under his power! She felt like a butterfly pinned to a board! Agitated, she made to rise, but one large tanned hand closed firmly over her shoulder.
"In genteel circles, a lady always waits for her gentleman companion to draw back her chair and assist her from the table."
"And how could that possibly apply to us? I have never claimed to be a lady of genteel circles, and you have never behaved as a gentleman."
Trey stretched out his hand with a polite smile.
Caitlin hesitated when he did not respond to her insult, then reluctantly put her small hand in his. Trey transferred it to his forearm as she rose, covering her slender fingers with his palm. Caitlin could barely tolerate his touch, and eager to reach the drawing room so he would release her, her own broad strides nearly matched those of Trey's long legs. Trey slowed her ebullient gait with a restraining hand, his words painstakingly patient.
"Fine ladies are careful to take small, dainty footsteps so that they appear to glide effortlessly across the floor."
"And if fine ladies are in a bloody big hurry?" Caitlin queried tightly.
Trey sighed, and despite his resolve to be understanding with her, impatience tinged his reply.
"That is beside the point, Caitlin. We are not in a hurry. You must remember to walk slowly and gracefully so your hoop will not sway. A glimpse of ankles is thought most immodest in England."
Caitlin laughed aloud. She had climbed the shrouds of the Anna, her legs bare from knee to toe! A leg was a leg, everyone had them, did they not? She looked up at the handsome captain as he spoke again.
"After the evening repast, the ladies of the party usually retire to a private drawing room while their menfolk remain at the table for cigars and brandy." He frowned suddenly, glancing down at her as a terrible thought occurred to him. I don't suppose that you are prone to smoke cigars, are you, Caitlin?"
"Of course not!" Caitlin snapped testily, snatching her hand away from him as they reached the drawing room. She threw him a challenging look. "But I would if the habit appealed to me."
Trey did not doubt it as he stood in the doorway, watching her cross the room with an angry rustle of silk skirts. She chose a small oriental divan covered in rich crimson brocade embroidered with black satin, and he noted with some surprise that she maneuvered her skirts with a good bit more aplomb than she had displayed in the dining room.
He settled into a large black leather chair across from her, crossing his long legs at the ankle, and Caitlin looked everywhere but at him, annoyed that she had to suffer his company, Silence settled between them like silt in a jar of seawater.
After a time, Caitlin began to fidget restlessly, one small toe tapping a staccato of impatience beneath her long skirts, while Trey watched her with growing amusement.
"All right, milord high and mighty captain, here we be in the drawing room like a proper lady and gent. Now what does this fine lady do? Count yonder roses upon the carpet?"
Trey smiled, and Caitlin tossed her hair, swirling it over one shoulder with an unconsciously graceful flick of her fingers. He watched the red gold ringlets settle like fire upon her back.
"I imagine one of the ladies entertains on the harpsichord, while the others gossip or work on their embroidery."
"What fun they must have!"
Caitlin's exclamation held just the note of false enthusiasm that emphasized the intended sarcasm, and Trey's azure eyes leveled on her face until she had to fight her inclination to squirm on her chair.
"And if they know not how to do any of those boring pastimes?" she inquired tersely.
"In your case, you will have to learn both from tutors. Unfortunately, the lady I hired to help you along with all of this is unable to come to Windsway as I had planned. Her husband has taken to his bed with a fever of some sort. I have already hired a music tutor, but I suppose I will have to teach you the rest of what you need to know."
Caitlin's eyes darted to him in dismay. "You?"
"Aye, your lessons will begin tomorrow."
Her dainty jaw jutted in such a warlike angle that Trey could not help his surge of compassion. It would be difficult for her to settle down to the mundane existence of a lady of quality. After all, she was very young and had experienced a life full of freedom and excitement. He leaned forward, bracing an arm across his knee.
"I would like very much to be your friend, Caitlin. I realize how difficult the days to come will be for you."
Her small, exquisitely beautiful face held Trey in the relentless spell that was fast becoming familiar to him. All trace of hostility had disappeared from her voice.
"Then let me go. I do not want to marry. I will freely give up Windsway to you or do anything else you ask of me, if you will only free my brother and me."
Glowing golden eyes shone warmly in the candlelight, beseeching him to understand, and Trey felt a curious melting sensation deep inside. Surprised at his own strong reactions to the girl, he suppressed his compassion, making his answer gentle but firm.
"I'm sorry, Caitlin, but I cannot do that. I am acting for the Queen. It is her wish for you to wed, and although it is hard for you to understand now, she is acting in your best interest. You must try to understand why the Anna could not be allowed to sail and pillage Spain indefinitely. Eventually, you and your brother would have been captured, and Anne did not wish that to happen. Someday you will be grateful for her wisdom in interceding in your behalf."
The glimmer of hope in Caitlin's fine eyes flickered and died, and she vowed never to appeal to him again. Not for anything! Damn the cur! He smiled at her now, smiled as he sat back and calmly planned her life, planned her marriage with no regard for her wants or her feelings! The very thought of wedding some stranger sent her cold with dread, and she moistened dry lips, clasping her hands tightly together as she took a steadying breath.
"What if I swear to give up my outlaw life of my own accord? Will the Queen allow me to remain here on Windsway unwed?"
Trey stared at her a moment, then made up his mind. She deserved to know the whole truth.
"The Queen believes you need a husband to take care of you," he answered, bracing himself for an adverse reaction to his remark. He was not disappointed.
"I need no man to take care of me!" Caitlin cried furiously, her hands clenching until her nails bit into her palms.
"Perhaps, but there is another reason for the Queen's decision for you to marry. The landowners here on Barbados have been fighting over Windsway for the last five years, saying that it has been abandoned by known outlaws. Since Christian is not a true blood relation to your father, you are the sole heir, and Anne feels your union with one of the neighboring landowners will settle the land dispute as well as take care of you."
"I tell you I can take care of myself! And you can give Windsway to anyone who wants it!"
"I'm truly sorry, Caitlin, but this conversation is hardly accomplishing anything. Everything has already been decided. If you'll think on it a moment, your plight is no different from other ladies of your station. Most have marriages arranged by their fathers. I myself will have that responsibility in regard to my two younger sisters."
Caitlin forcibly composed her face into a calm mask, but her fists still lay clenched in her lap. Trey thought it wise to try to reassure her.
"The Queen made it clear that you are to be consulted in the decision."
Relief flooded through Caitlin, revealing itself in her voice. "Then I may choose the man for myself?"
Trey chose his words very carefully. "Four suitors have been selected, and each gentleman will call on you here at Win
dsway before any decision is made. Unfortunately, some rather exaggerated rumors about you are floating around in Bridgetown, and that is why it's imperative for you to dress and act like a proper lady. After you have met all of them, you may tell me which one you prefer to wed. If your choice is appropriate, I will be happy to give my blessing."
"And if I prefer none of them?"
"Then I shall be forced to make the proper decision for you."
Trey heaved a heavy sigh as Caitlin rose and left the room with a dignity that sent a wave of guilt through him. He dug into his coat pocket for his gold cigar case, shaking his head.
Caitlin Alexander was proving to be a good deal different from what he had expected her to be. She had a fierce pride, a fierce spirit, an even fiercer temper, he added to himself with a chuckle as he clamped the narrow cheroot between his strong white teeth. He brought a candle close and puffed the cigar into flame, then leaned back and closed his eyes. He had a very long way to go in winning complete cooperation from her, but at least he had managed to get her back to Windsway, and even more extraordinarily, he had coerced her into wearing a dress.
Chapter Five
Early the next morning, Caitlin braced her arms on the wall outside her bedchamber, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the soft kiss of the ocean breeze. For a moment she pretended that she was free again on the decks of the Anna with Christian and the others, but her heart knew otherwise, and it gave her no peace.
She sighed, lowering her eyes to the detestable gown she wore. It was better than the yellow one she had been forced to wear the night before, since it was made from soft white muslin sprigged delicately with pink flowers. The lightweight fabric felt cool against her skin, but the bodice was tight around her midrift, where her white satin stomacher was secured with ribbons, and the square neckline edged with white lace scratched her skin. She looked at the wide-brimmed straw hat decorated with a wide pink satin ribbon, wanting desperately to send it whirling far out to sea. She resisted the impulse, knowing the moronic captain would surely punish her for it.
A visual image of the dark and handsome face of Trey Cameron creased her smooth brow into a frown, and she grimaced distastefully at the thought of having to take her breakfast in his company. She did not feel particularly well anyway, having spent much of the night wandering about her room, unable to sleep. The helplessness she felt was the worst, for Caitlin had always been one to face her problems in order to conquer them. This time such a solution was impossible, and she had finally resigned herself to succumb to Captain Cameron's demands until she could come up with a better idea. But even so, she'd be damned if she'd bow to his will like some timid little mouse!
Determined to keep that thought in mind, she moved along the whitewashed porch to where a wide stone staircase descended to a shaded flagstoned terrace that overlooked the formal gardens and the ocean. A guard stood near a huge urn of geraniums set at the end of the wall, but she totally ignored his presence, peering over the balcony at the lacy wrought-iron breakfast table below.
Trey Cameron was already in his place, and the mere sight of him brought a new wave of anger churning inside her. Her fingers twitched as she indulged in the enjoyable fantasy of plunging a sharp sword deep into his muscular chest, and she took a deep breath, irritably kicking at her bothersome skirts as she started down the steps.
Trey saw her as she stopped at the bottom, and Caitlin watched coldly as he stood, inclining his head in a polite greeting. He was dressed in his usual immaculate fashion, in a dark brown frockcoat and fawn-colored breeches atop tall brown leather boots, and his white teeth flashed briefly against his deeply tanned face. His smile seemed somehow mocking, and Caitlin stiffened warily as he came forth to meet her.
"May I help you with your chair?" he offered gallantly.
"I need no help with the bloody chair!"
Caitlin irately wadded a good portion of her skirt in one hand as she strode past him to the table. The blasted clothes weighed a ton, she fumed furiously, kicking at them again as she sat down.
Trey took his seat as she muttered angrily at her dress. He shook his head at some of the curses she used, unable to believe that anyone who could look as angelic as Caitlin Alexander could have the vocabulary of a London guttersnipe.
"You look lovely this morn, Lady Caitlin," he remarked, smiling warmly. "I believe Pearl mentioned that you prefer coffee to tea."
He gestured a servant forward with the silver pot to pour her beverage. "And to welcome you home, the cook has prepared the scones you favored as a child."
"I am only here because you have forced me to be," Caitlin replied bitterly. "Do not expect me to enjoy it. I have no intention of conversing with the likes of you."
"You may sit and listen, then, because I have tidings which will probably be of interest to you, as they concern your wedding."
His words forced her to look at him, and he stared into her dark golden eyes for a long moment. His gaze dipped to the pink softness of her full lips, and he immediately reprimanded himself severely for the unwanted direction which his thoughts had taken. The young girl looking at him was his ward, and he would do well to remember it.
Caitlin waited, growing uncomfortable as his eyes played over her face. They were pure azure blue like the sea stretching out before them, and she thought the color most beautiful. Annoyance with her foolishness caused a becoming flush to pinken her cheeks, and Trey wondered the reason for it as he in turn turned his gaze elsewhere.
"Governor McSpadden wishes to meet you, and he intends to bring along his daughter. They plan to visit Windsway next week. I believe you knew Marianne McSpadden when the two of you were children."
Caitlin didn't answer. She had often played with Marianne, but she hadn't seen her since she was six years old. No doubt she was as giggly and silly as the other aristocratic ladies on the island, and Caitlin had no desire to see her.
"Therefore," Trey continued, undaunted by her pointed silence, "you must work diligently on your manners before they arrive. As a matter of fact, I can give you a few helpful hints right now."
He pointed toward the path of white shells that curved toward a large rectangular fountain that tinkled softly in the quiet morning. A profusion of tropical flowers edged the walkways with brilliantly hued blossoms spilling over the walls and statuary.
"After breaking their fast in the morning, most well-bred young ladies spend a few moments in the garden, collecting fresh flowers for their husband's table. As a new bride, you will be expected to do the same for your husband. A gentleman highly values a lady who attends to the softer tasks for his pleasure."
Caitlin gritted her teeth, thinking her husband would soon find that she'd not pick flowers for him, nor do anything else for his pleasure. She'd make his life so totally miserable that he would wish he had never taken her for his wife. He would plead for her to take Windsway back and leave him in peace! She watched Trey pick up a small white basket from the chair beside him.
"This will do to hold the flowers, and after it is filled, I will have one of the maids show you how to arrange them to the best advantage."
Caitlin looked at him for a moment, then dropped her eyes to the basket in his hand.
"Am I to understand that you wish me to put flowers in that basket?"
Trey nodded, pleased as she smiled winsomely at him, rising at once to do his bidding. He winced as she swung off down the path, stumbling once on her skirts. She stopped near the long pool in the center of the garden, where a blaze of red bougainvillea ran rampant along the wall. His mouth dropped a fraction as Caitlin leaned over, jerking up a handful by the roots. She jammed the flowers carelessly in the basket, dirt and all, then strode back to him. Smiling sweetly, she dropped the basket onto the table in front of him.
"There, your lordship, do you think my husband would be pleased?"
Caitlin gazed smugly down at him, rather pleased with herself, and Trey looked down at the basket, noting the dirt and torn blossoms covering the
fine linen tablecloth. His face did not change, but when he raised intense blue eyes to Caitlin, she stiffened warily.
"Do not try my patience, Caitlin."
He paused, not usually one to lose his temper, but the girl was pressing him. When he spoke again, his voice was low and controlled.
"I do not enjoy this job of nursemaid to a spoiled brat any more than you do. Either you will cooperate and do as I tell you, or you will see the last of me—and your brother. Do I make myself clear?"
His tone brooked no argument, and Caitlin knew it. She obeyed sullenly.
"Now," Trey said once she was seated opposite him. "We will begin again. Take the basket and gather a bouquet."
With clamped jaw, Caitlin did as she was told. Trey's initial annoyance with her gradually drifted into amusement as he watched her refill the basket. Her impatient actions were not the least bit ladylike, but at least she was no longer pulling the the plants out by the roots. She walked back and stuck the blossoms haphazardly into the white porcelain vase on the table and, although the resulting arrangement was quite the oddest display Trey had ever beheld, he did not ridicule her first attempt.
"Very nice, Caitlin; now perhaps you will join me for a stroll through the gardens, and we can continue to perfect your walk."
"What in the devil's wrong with my walk?" Caitlin demanded, chagrined by the fact that she was forced to crane her neck upward when he stood. Somehow his great height made her feel at a disadvantage, and she did not like it.
"Nothing, for those who like the swagger of a drunken sailor," Trey answered dryly. "But most gentlemen prefer to admire a graceful lady strolling at their sides."
"Then they can seek one elsewhere and leave me to myself."
Caitlin's chin rose obstinately, and Trey gave a small smile.
"Come along now, girl, and try to behave yourself."
Caitlin started off ahead of him, and Trey reached out, this time getting a firm grip on her arm that Caitlin could not shake off, though she tried.
