by Linda Ladd
She closed her eyes tightly, determined she would put him out of her mind. Apparently, he had already forgotten the episode, since he had spent most of his time aboard his ship, ignoring her for the most part. She lifted her face to the warm sun. Tonight she would meet the last suitor, and at least that ordeal would be over. Throughout the last days, she had harbored the secret hope that this last one, Francis Durham or whatever his name was, would be worthy of her consideration. If he was, then she had already decided to agree to the marriage, if only to rid herself of the unfeeling monster who rode in such condemning silence beside her. After Trey Cameron had sailed out of her life never to return, she would steal away with Christian, and no one would ever find her this time. She vowed it! She would sail the seas as in the past and be free again!
She let her mind drift back to the last days on Los Gatos, before Trey had put her life in a shambles, realizing only now how precious such memories would become. The last months cooped up on Windsway, her every action ruled and ridiculed by Captain Cameron, had shown her just how important her freedom was. And marriage only promised a similar fate. Few men would allow a wife to wander the oceans at will. She heaved a heavy sigh as the coach road wound its way toward the first glimpse of Bridgetown. An intense dread filled her, and only the fact that Marianne McSpadden would be present gave her something to look forward to.
Trey glanced again at Caitlin as they entered the narrow winding streets of the capital city. She had ridden in sullen silence, refusing to look at him, but, now in Bridgetown, she looked around eagerly. He frowned at the sight of her hat discarded carelessly on the seat beside her. Her hair glinted like wildfire in the sunlight, silky tendrils blowing around the exquisitely beautiful face that had haunted his sleep unmercifully for nights on end. He looked away, infuriated at his own weakness where Caitlin was concerned. He wanted her—he no longer tried to deny it—and he had come very close to losing any semblance of control when she had pressed herself so wantonly against him.
He swallowed convulsively as he relived the warmth and softness of her lips beneath his mouth, the silkiness of her hair in his hands. Never had he craved a woman with such single-minded obsession, and he found it most unsettling, though he well knew the reason. He wanted a woman he could never have, and that had not happened to him before.
And such feelings were certainly less than honorable, he thought mockingly, since she was under his protection. He was disgusted with himself. However, there was little concern that it would go any further than it already had. The fact that she despised him and blamed him for all her misery would work well to keep him at a safe distance.
She had certainly met his embrace willingly enough, he mused, but quickly pushed that thought out of his mind, not wanting to wonder why. It was a good thing it would all end soon. After Caitlin had met Durham, Trey would choose her husband and be done with it. And it appeared that Durham would be that choice, for it would be hard for the man to be less suitable than the other three. Then Trey would sail away; once he returned to London and had Cecilia in his arms again, he would forget all about his ridiculous infatuation with Caitlin Alexander. He frowned, finding himself unable to conjure up the lovely features of the flaxen-haired lady awaiting him in England for the persistent intrusion of silky red gold ringlets and smoky amber gold eyes. He muttered a low oath beneath his breath, steadfastly keeping his gaze off her. He felt without control over his own feelings, and he didn't like it.
The governor's mansion was built of pink coral rock with airy balconies graced by bright yellow wrought-iron railings. It sat high on a hill amid ancient mahogany trees and well-maintained gardens, and appeared most imposing and grand as they drew nearer. Trey dismounted as the carriage rolled to a halt on the graveled drive lined with massed hedges of flaming poinsettias, with hanging baskets of frangipani scenting the air along the Spanish tiled portico. He opened the door for Caitlin, secretly relieved when she gave him an icy look before refusing his assistance. He no longer trusted himself to touch her, and he stood back as she swept haughtily up the steps.
"Caitlin! Down here!"
Caitlin turned, pleased to see Marianne hurrying up the wide gallery toward her. They hugged before Marianne stepped back, her pretty face alight with pleasure.
"I am so pleased that you have finally come! You should hear all the stories going around about you! And the preparations for the soirée are about to drive Papa crazy! But I think it is all exciting!"
Caitlin smiled at her breathless exuberance. "What have you heard about me?"
Marianne laughed. "Oh, do not fret over the talk, it is so silly! ‘Tis said that you threw a pie at fat old Lord Longworth! Can you believe such tales? Then only yesterday I heard that you were supposed to have struck Mister Tyborn of Casingham Plantation. I found them all quite amusing, I must say, but I think that Francis half believes them."
"Francis Durham?" Caitlin asked quickly. "Do you know him?"
"But of course! He is in the house now and most anxious to meet you! I have told him how beautiful you are, and I fear he is most intrigued by all the exciting things you've done!"
A gleam of interest appeared in Caitlin's eyes. She found it hard to believe that the man would not be appalled by her exploits, but it was the first encouragement she had had concerning her four suitors. A bit of the dread she had harbored about the meeting with Durham slid away.
Caitlin tensed as Trey came up behind them, but Marianne blushed self-consciously, dropping him a pretty curtsy. Caitlin's fine brow wrinkled with a grimace at her friend's look of adolation for Trey Cameron, as if he were some kind of god.
"Captain Cameron, please allow me to welcome you to my father's house," Marianne said softly, green eyes alive as she stared up into a face she considered most handsome.
Trey smiled and bent low over her hand.
"I am most pleased to see you again, Lady Marianne."
Marianne's heart fluttered giddily, but she looked back at Caitlin, who was muttering something unintelligible as she took Marianne's arm and pulled her away from Trey.
"Tell me more about this Durham man," Caitlin whispered, but Marianne's mind was still on the man behind them.
"Have you ever seen eyes as blue as Captain Cameron's? He is the most divine man I have ever seen! Papa says every lady at Anne's Court tries to attract his interest! I have heard he has had a long-time affair with Lady Cecilia Winslow, one of Anne's ladies-in-waiting. Do you know her? They say she is beautiful."
Caitlin ignored her prattle. "Tell me about Francis Durham. Is he fat or ugly?"
"Oh, no! He is very handsome, and most gallant. I know you will like him! He has been away for over a year, but he has returned now to take over his father's plantation."
"He certainly sounds better than the other dolts I have had to endure," Caitlin said, her hopes rising dramatically as she followed Marianne through the huge front doors set below a most elegant fanlight.
The governor awaited them in the formal drawing room off the spacious marble-tiled entry foyer, but Caitlin was more interested in the man at his side. Both men stood, and Caitlin realized that Francis Durham's gaze rested on her with a curiosity equal to her own. He was tall and blond, with handsome, well-turned features, and broad shoulders. The dark blue depths of his eyes warmed appreciatively at the sight of her. Caitlin smiled as well, more than pleased with his initial appearance. And he is young, she thought with delight, probably near her own age.
"Come, Caitlin, my dear. Allow me to introduce you to young Durham here," Sir Henry said, smiling affectionately at the young woman with his daughter. She looked even more beautiful today than he had remembered from their visit to Windsway, and he suppressed a chuckle as he glanced at Francis. The young man's face was little less than thunderstruck, and Sir Henry was satisfied that the two would find each other most interesting. All along, he had thought Francis to be the right man for Trey Cameron's ward, but the social prestige of the other three men had been undeniable. Now that
the propriety of rank had been dispensed with, the two young people could become acquainted.
Francis Durham moved toward the ravishing creature with fiery hair and magnificent golden eyes, never in his life having expected the heiress of Windsway to be such a beauty. His breath caught as she smiled at him, revealing small white teeth, her manner lacking all the studied coyness he had disliked so much in the ladies of London.
"Lady Caitlin, I am most honored to make your acquaintance," he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips. Her skin was very soft and smooth, perfumed with lavender, and he found himself reluctant to release her fingers as he stared down into her enchanting eyes.
Trey had entered the room as the young man kissed Caitlin's hand, and he chafed inwardly as Durham continued to hold it, smiling vacuously at his ward with open fascination. Caitlin, in turn, made no attempt to remove her hand, and Trey's jaw grew stony with a rush of annoyance that he could not show. He found himself angry again. He stepped forward, determined to pry the boy's mouth from her hand before it took root there.
"I am Trey Cameron, Caitlin's guardian," he said, loud enough to draw everyone's attention. He extended his own hand to Durham for a handshake, and Francis dragged his eyes with effort from the warmth of Caitlin's smile, releasing her slender fingers with regret. He shook Trey's hand firmly, suddenly quite eager to please the man who might give him such a beautiful bride.
"I am Francis Durham, Captain Cameron. I have heard many speak well of you whilst I visited at Court. It is a great honor to meet you."
Francis's eyes strayed again to Caitlin before Trey could respond, and Trey's brows slanted together in irritation. He reached out to take Caitlin's arm, intending to lead her to a chair, but Francis Durham had other ideas.
"I beg your permission, Captain Cameron, to allow Lady Caitlin to join me so that we might have a chance to become acquainted."
His request was far too polite for Trey to refuse, and he watched in disapproval as Caitlin was led away. He frowned at how she smiled up at the boy.
"Well, Trey, my friend. I think this is a good opportunity for the two of us to sample the new shipment of Madeira that I received of late. It is in my study."
Trey hesitated as Caitlin's low laugh floated toward them, and Sir Henry smiled.
"Do not worry. Marianne will remain here as their chaperone," he said, gesturing to his daughter, who was laughing with the others. "I can assure you that Francis would never act inappropriately toward Lady Caitlin. He has visited here often, and his manners and comportment are beyond reproach." He winked at Trey. "It appears that they are well pleased with each other, eh?"
Trey nodded glumly as Sir Henry led the way into the next room, a grim backward glance telling him that Caitlin was finding this last suitor very much to her liking. Somehow such a response from her didn't please him quite as much as he had expected it would.
Chapter Eleven
Long receiving rooms stretched across the rear of the governor's mansion; on the night of the soirée, the tall white doors were folded back to provide a spacious accommodation for the many guests. The louvered doors that led onto the rear gardens were set wide as well, allowing soft night breezes to waft inward with the honeyed fragrance of frangipani and bougainvillea. The ceilings were high and ornate, their intricately carved moldings decorated with white garlands and winged cherubs that overlooked a curved balcony where musicians played softly for the social elite of Bridgetown.
Trey stood near the double gilt-edged doors that led into the state dining room, where Sir Henry and his daughter entertained visiting dignitaries and honored guests. Tonight the long tables were set for a feast, draped with fine white linen and garnished with silver dishes and crystal platters displaying every manner of seafood and delectable viands. Trey had little interest in the people milling about the excellent fare with plates in hand, his blue eyes instead on the wide staircase in the central room that rose to a mezzanine before winding to the second floor. Richard Hale stood at his cousin's side, sipping from a goblet of the finest champagne, all the more enjoyable because it had been taken from a captured French corsair. He inclined his head in salute at a pretty brunette wearing a low-cut pink gown, one among many beauties in attendance, none of whom had failed to notice the pair of tall and handsome men from the Glory.
"I say, I am rather glad you had me come," he ventured to Trey. "This night is a welcome respite from acting the jailer for Christian Alexander. I like the fellow well enough, but the scenery here is a good sight better on the eye than that of our crew." He chuckled. "Christian offered me a ransom in gold to bring one of these fair ladies back with me."
When Trey didn't respond, Richard followed his cousin's gaze to where Francis Durham hovered near the curving bannisters entwined with fresh flowers. The young swain obviously waited impatiently, his eyes going to the top of the steps every few minutes.
"It seems Durham's more than a little smitten with Lady Caitlin."
Richard grinned at Trey, expecting a show of relief that an acceptable groom had been found. Instead, Trey's expression darkened ominously, causing Richard some surprise.
"Has Caitlin reason to dislike Durham, then?" he went on. "I thought she would be pleased with him after what you told me about the others."
"She is pleased with him."
Trey's answer was clipped, indicating a disinclination to discuss the subject further, and Richard looked at him a moment, wondering at Trey's foul mood. He watched Trey's frown deepen as Francis Durham gave up his vigilant guard at the steps and moved toward them. Richard returned the younger man's nod as he reached them.
"Good evening, Captain Cameron, Mister Hale," he greeted, then went on without ado to what was on his mind. "Do you suppose, sir, that Lady Caitlin could be ill-disposed? I have been waiting for some time for her appearance so that I may claim the first dance with her."
"She will be along shortly," Trey said, and his unfriendly tone brought Richard's eyes to him.
"There are many pretty ladies here tonight," Trey went on. "You should make an effort to enjoy yourself."
Francis Durham smiled at Trey's admonition, glancing again at the staircase in the hopes that Caitlin had appeared.
"After having met the Lady Caitlin, I must confess that the others seem rather plain to me. I do not mind telling you that I have found her to be most lovely and agreeable. I wish to thank you for the opportunity you have given me to court her. It is indeed my good fortune."
Richard waited for Trey's comment and, when he didn't get one, hastened to reply, at a loss for Trey's behavior toward the boy. Durham was obviously trying very hard to win his approval.
"She is most beautiful, I agree," Richard said. "And I know you must be heartened that she thoroughly disliked her other suitors."
Francis indeed looked pleased, smiling broadly before he turned serious eyes to Trey.
"Sir, I want to express to you my sincere desire to win the hand of Lady Caitlin. She is everything that I could possibly want in a wife, and I intend to do everything in my power to win your consent to our marriage."
"You have only just met her. Perhaps you should give yourself a bit more time before making such a serious commitment. She is more volatile than she first appears," Trey suggested, thinking of Caitlin's quick temper and penchant for using her knee on those who offended her.
Francis shook his head resolutely. "I do not think more consideration is necessary. She has charmed me from the first moment I saw her, and I have always been most attracted to women of spirit. It would be my honor to have her as …"
His words faded away, and Trey and Richard followed his wide-eyed stare of appreciation to where Caitlin stood on the mezzanine. Trey found his breath snatched away, and he cursed himself anew for his ridiculous reaction to the girl. Unwillingly, he took note of smooth soft shoulders and lush curves revealed with tempting abandon above a bodice of delicate white lace. She looked like an angel, too beautiful to be real, as she slowly descended the steps,
one slender hand sliding along the polished bannister.
Caitlin's courage faltered alarmingly as seemingly hundreds of faces rose to stare at her, and her trepidation did not cease as she reached the bottom step. She scanned the crowd for Francis Durham. After only three days, she considered him a good friend. Instead, her eyes settled on the tall form of her detestable guardian. His brilliant azure eyes held her against her will, making her angry even as a thrill shot through her. He looked so totally masculine standing there, his shoulders broad and muscular in the formal gray silk coat, his black breeches molding long, steel-muscled legs. She did not notice Francis until the younger man moved away from Trey's side, a wide, welcoming smile lighting his face.
Caitlin smiled as he came toward her and bowed gallantly before her.
"I have been most eager to see you again," he whispered, and Caitlin's fears lessened momentarily as she tried to ignore the piercing blue eyes still trained on her.
"Come, please, and dance with me before you are beset with invitations from every man in attendance," Francis said, and Caitlin laughed as Francis led her with pride to the dance floor. A galliard was just beginning, and Caitlin's eyes strayed again to her guardian. A massive frown gripped Trey's countenance, and Caitlin derived a great deal of pleasure from the sight, hoping she was the cause of his discomfort.
Trey watched Caitlin curtsy before her partner just as he had taught her, a muscle working spar- modically in his lean cheek at the possessive attitude Francis was exhibiting as he ogled her bare shoulders and softly curving décolletage. Each time the boy touched her, Trey knew the softness of her skin; each time the steps of the dance brought Francis close to her, Trey knew the intoxicating fragrance of red gold hair. His muscles grew more rigid, and he found his fingers clenching at his sides. Could he actually be jealous, he thought incredulously, jealous of a mere boy like Francis Durham? The sensation was totally alien, and he rejected it at once as the cause for his anger, feeling foolish.
