“Today, Dominic,” the quartermaster warned with humor.
“Au revoir, Gaspar.”
The smiling quartermaster departed, and Dominic turned his attention to Clare. “I must leave you.”
Her whole body seemed to be sparkling like the stars overhead. “You are the captain, Dominic. Go attend to your duties, I know my way back.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to escort you, bien-aimée.”
No man had ever called her sweetheart. She reached up and touched his cheek. “I am sure.”
He turned her palm to his lips, placed a gentle kiss of farewell in the warm center, then left her shimmering and breathless and alone.
The last thing Dominic wanted to do was to leave Clare and preside over a disciplinary hearing. Even as he eyed the men involved, the tantalizing lure of her resonated. “Hugo Watkins, you are accused of stealing from Washington Julian. What say you?”
“He’s lying, sir,” the carpenter declared.
The Cherokee Julian barked a curse and had to be restrained by the men nearby. “Bloody bastard! You’re the liar here!”
Watkins smiled smugly. He was known to be a cheat at everything from cards to dice. The only reason he was still on board was his position as carpenter, and he thought himself impervious to retribution because of it, but as noted before, Dominic didn’t care for the man any more than the crew. With the Marie so near home, the crew could afford to do without him now. Dominic just hoped Julian had proof to back up his accusation. “Mr. Julian, what was stolen?”
“An ivory fan I purchased for my wife. It has been in my trunk, but was missing when I came off watch this morning.”
“Why accuse Mr. Watkins?”
“Because he’s been wanting me to sell it to him, and I’ve refused.”
Dominic eyed the short, squat Watkins. “And you say you know nothing about this fan.”
“Nothing, sir.”
Dominic didn’t believe him for a moment, but without solid evidence there could be no punishment. “Can anyone corroborate either guilt or innocence?”
Richmond Spelling stepped forward. “Have someone check the bore of cannon five,” he said firmly. “I saw Mr. Watkins slip something inside during this morning’s watch change. He didn’t notice my approach until I asked what he was doing. He said he was checking the fuse, and for me to go on about my damn business.”
“Really?”
Watkins no longer looked so smug.
“Mr. Spelling, did you notice the color of this something?”
“It appeared to be white, sir.”
Julian snarled, “I knew it!”
The accused carpenter shot daggers at the young powder monkey. Dominic noticed Gaspar slip quietly from the room.
“I was checking fuses!” Watkins countered, staring hotly at Spelling. “Boy’s obviously had too much grog.”
Dominic ignored that. “Thank you, Mr. Spelling.”
His face set sternly, Spelling stepped back into the group of seamen crowded around.
Dominic addressed the assemblage. “We all know that thievery from your fellows is one of the sailing’s most heinous crimes. The Marie’s articles state that anyone convicted of such will be immediately banished.”
Watkins tossed back with a sneer, “But there has to be solid proof, and all you have are the lies of a dirty Indian and a boy.”
Julian erupted furiously and had to be restrained once more. Gaspar entered the room and stepped over to the table where Dominic was seated. He tossed the fan onto the table.
Watkins’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.
“Where’d you find it?” Dominic asked the quartermaster.
“Exactly where Mr. Spelling said it might be.”
The crew members closest to Watkins grabbed his arms. He struggled to free himself but they held fast.
Dominic called out, “At sunrise, Mr. Watkins will be put in a canoe, given oars, food, and water, and left behind. What say ye?”
The crew roared their support.
“Tie him up and put him in the hold,” Dominic instructed. “Mr. Julian, your fan.”
After Julian retrieved his property and Watkins was dragged away, Dominic said to the remaining seamen, “Gentlemen, we are done.”
The next morning, as dictated by the captain’s decree, the sullen-faced carpenter climbed down the rope ladder to the canoe bobbing on the ocean’s surface. In the gray fog of dawn he and the small boat could barely be seen, but his curses rang loud. “A curse on you, LeVeq! I curse your crew and the Marie!”
The crew responded by tossing down rotting fruit and vehement curses of their own; some in French, some in Spanish, and some in fervent Italian. The loudest of all was a death curse chanted in the ancestral tongue of the Cherokee.
As always, Clare awakened before dawn. Hugging herself against the chill in the room, she padded over to the dying fire, poked at it in an effort to bring it back to life, then headed over to the basin and splashed some water on her face. She would have given anything for a bath but knew fresh water was a luxury on a ship, so she did the best she could with the small amount of water available. Moving behind the Cathay screen, she removed the nightshirt and donned her same blue dress. It, like her body, could use a good cleaning but there was nothing she could do about it, either.
Upon hearing a cacophony of noise that sounded like cursing she hurried over to the porthole in hopes of finding the cause. She didn’t see another ship moored nearby, but she could only view the side of the Marie the porthole faced and not the other. She prayed they weren’t preparing for another battle.
A knock on the door grabbed her attention. “Yes?”
“It’s Dominic.”
Surprised, she hurried to the door and opened it. He was holding her breakfast tray, another surprise. “Come in.”
“Good morning,” he said as he entered. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, I did. What is happening up on the deck?”
He set the tray on the table. “We had to banish a man for stealing. He put a curse on the ship.”
She stared.
“So the crew cursed him in return.”
“Ah.”
“Shall we eat?”
“I thought you considered me too much of a distraction.”
“You are, but I’ve decided to stop fighting a battle I will only lose.”
The words were heady ones. It pleased her to know that he wanted her company, yet she forced herself to remember that no matter the course of their relationship they were destined to part ways, and it was best that she not let her heart become involved. She was certain his wouldn’t be and that as soon as he left her in Savannah he’d be on to the next conquest. As a slave woman destined to remain loveless, however, this was her only chance to be desired and she planned to take it. That settled, they sat and shared another tureen of turtle soup.
Chapter 6
T
wo days later, Clare was up on deck talking with Richmond Spelling when the lookout in the rigging shouted, “Land ho!”
The crew greeted the call with a mighty yell.
“Finally!” Spelling cried, showing a white-toothed smile. “Finally home, miss!”
Men rushed to the side, eager for a first glimpse of the home they hadn’t seen in months. Their elation was so contagious she found herself brimming with excitement as well. Although she had no ties to the place, the knowledge that she might soon be returning to Savannah and her children held its own joy.
The imminent homecoming had the deck of the Marie awash in celebration. The big cast-iron bell tolled madly. Tait was happily sawing away on his fiddle while gleeful crewmen danced arm in arm. Clare watched the French flag being hauled down and the Spanish colors run up in its stead. The number of different flags flown by the ship continued to confound and amuse. Dominic walked into view and she watched him be greeted with fervent handshakes and pats on his back. If the smile on his face was any indication, he was enjoying the look
out’s news as much as his men.
Then he noticed her, and the noise around Clare faded away. Such a fine specimen of a man, she noted inwardly. It didn’t matter that his loose-fitting white shirt and dark breeches weren’t the cleanest. Nor did she care that his boots were scuffed and worn. The intensity in his gaze seemed capable of stopping time, all the while reminding her of the pleasures they’d shared and the ones he’d promised once they reached his home.
The spell broke when Gaspar approached him and he turned away. Only then did she realize she’d been holding her breath. Richmond was still at her side, and he must have been watching because he gave her a knowing smile before turning his attention back to the ocean.
A short while later with cannons booming to signal her arrival, the Marie entered its azure blue home harbor. A flotilla of small boats, canoes, and makeshift rafts came out to meet her, and each vessel was filled with waving and smiling men, women, and children. Most bore the kiss of Mother Africa on their skin, but a few were of other races. Clare, standing beside James, had never seen anything quite like it. One large canoe carried two drummers who were pounding out a syncopated greeting. Infected by the happiness she saw on all the faces, she asked, “Who are they?”
“Family, friends, children, sweethearts.”
Some of the crewmen, spotting loved ones, dove off the side into the water and swam to meet them. Watching the crewmen reach the boats and be hauled up, only to be covered with hugs and kisses, increased her smile. More and more small vessels came alongside, and the crewmen lining the rail waved and shouted greetings in reply. While the celebratory homecoming continued, Clare took in the stately palm trees dotting the edges of the beach and, off in the distance, the verdant mountain standing against the cloudless sky. “So this is Cuba?”
“One of its islands, yes.”
“And unofficially?”
“It belongs to us.”
Another surprise. Clare turned to face him.
“Dominic will explain.”
The enigmatic response let her know there was more to this place than met the eye so she would take his suggestion and save her questions for Dominic, who was presently below decks preparing the cargo for unloading. The fleeting glimpse she’d had of him earlier had been her only one.
A long train of wagons, drawn by oxen, horses, and mules, making its way up the beach, caught her eye. Upon each vehicle and animal were more people, and even more individuals were walking beside the wagons. They appeared to be heading for the welcoming celebration as well.
Amazed by the sheer numbers on land and in the water, she asked, “How many people live here?” By then, there were so many vessels in the water, she wondered how Esteban would pilot the Marie the remaining short distance without accidentally sailing into them.
“About five hundred.”
It was a small number when compared to the populations of the larger cities of Europe or even the colonies, but this place with its fragrant air and warm breeze appeared so wild and untamed it was hard to imagine it having any people at all. “Where do they live?”
“About ten miles inland.”
“And there is a town?”
Chuckling, he nodded. “A small one.”
Clare had difficulty containing her questions. She had at least a hundred if not more, and she wanted to ask them, but rather than pester the doctor she held on to them until she could get the answers from Dominic.
When they finally reached the dock, the anchor was dropped and the cheers of the Marie’s crew were drowned out by the thunderous cheers of the throngs awaiting them on the beach.
“Oh, sweet Mary!” James whispered in a mixture of awe and excitement.
“What’s the matter?”
“My wife! There in the yellow dress! See her?”
Clare followed his pointing finger and saw a tall, black-skinned woman jumping up and down and waving frantically. James was doing the same.
Dominic appeared and James grabbed him. “Look at Cinda. She’s carrying! Look at her belly!”
Before the grinning Dominic could respond, James ran for the plank that had been lowered to facilitate the departure. Clare watched the doctor quickly make his way through the press until he reached the woman in the yellow dress and matching headscarf and caught her up for a kiss that she returned passionately and without shame. “How long have they been married?”
“Almost two years.”
In the colonies such unions between races were frowned upon, and in many places were downright unlawful, but here there seemed to be no such restraints. It was easy to see that James and his wife were very happy.
“Are you ready?” Dominic asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yes.”
“I usually stay aboard until all the cargo has been unloaded, but the quartermaster has granted me special dispensation so that I may escort you home.”
Clare found herself looking forward to his company very much. “Remind me to thank him.”
He extended his arm and she took it gladly.
As they reached the lip of the plank Clare was not prepared for what happened next, though in retrospect, she should have anticipated it. The moment the crowd spotted Dominic it became quite apparent that they’d saved their loudest cheers of welcome for him. The ovation seemed to shake the harbor. He bowed graciously and gracefully. The roar continued and continued. Out in the crowd, she spotted the fiddler Tait applauding happily beside a blond woman with bright blue eyes. Hooting and clapping beside them were Richmond Spelling and, beside him, an older woman who resembled him so much, she had to be his mother or grandmother. To their left stood a smiling Washington Julian, who handed a white fan to a strikingly beautiful woman with skin the color of gold. Sprinkled throughout the crowd now chanting, “LeVeq! LeVeq!” were the men of the Marie, men who’d taken a slave woman into their midst and treated her with a deference and respect no one had ever shown her before. She’d never forget them.
Their captain finally put up a silencing hand. In response a hush fell over the adoring assemblage. “Merci,” he said in an emotional-sounding voice.
Clare saw the same depth of feeling on his face.
Speaking in French he continued, “It is always good to come home.”
The crowd let loose with another boisterous round of cheers.
“I have returned to you your husbands, fathers, sons, and cousins. Those of you who wanted them eaten by leviathans, my apologies. Maybe on the next voyage.”
Laughter greeted that.
“We also returned with a guest. This lovely lady is Clare Sullivan. She’ll be here for a short while and then sail home.”
Friendly calls of welcome rang out, and she nodded in pleased response.
“Gaspar will be in charge of the unloading, and I’ll see everyone at the feast tonight.”
It took him and Clare a while to make their way through the crowd of well-wishers because he kept stopping to shake hands, give hugs, and greet small children who looked up at him with adoration and love in their eyes, but once he was done, he escorted her to a waiting wooden wagon. Seated on the bench with the reins in hand was the woman who favored Richmond Spelling. He was seated beside her.
Dominic made the introductions. “Clare, this is Anna Spelling, Richmond’s grandmother. She’s my housekeeper and cook. Anna, Clare Sullivan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Anna.”
“I’m pleased to meet you as well. You two get in and we’ll head home.”
Dominic undid the leather ties on the edge of the wagon’s gate and swung it open. Before Clare had a chance to react, he placed his large hands on her waist and picked her up, then set her down gently inside the bed. While she fought to recover, he climbed in and reclosed the gate. Once the ties were secured, Anna called to the mules and they were under way.
Clare was seated with her back to the slats, and he scooted over until their bodies touched. He then draped an arm behind her. “The road can bounce you around a bit, want
to make sure you arrive in one piece.”
The feel of his body against hers was so overwhelming she feared she’d melt and arrive as a puddle. Conscious of Richmond and Anna’s presence, she did her best to remain unmoved and nonchalant but it was extremely difficult. The heat of him, the scents of him, and her own rising need for him were doing their best to undermine her control.
“How has the place fared since we’ve been away, Anna?” he asked.
“Very well. Six new babies were born. The cane is in the fields and the weather has blessed us.”
Richmond said, “First thing I want to do is sleep and then eat anything that isn’t turtle soup.”
Anna glanced over at her grandson and smiled. “The hunters brought in some boars for the feast tonight and they are roasting even as we ride.”
“Very good. We’ve had nothing but turtle the past few months. I was afraid I’d wake up each morning with flippers instead of feet.”
“How long were you and the crew away?” Clare asked Dominic.
“We sailed in November after the storm season, so five and a half months.”
She now understood why their arrival had garnered such a celebratory response. The Marie and her crew had been gone a long good while. For their families it probably felt like a lifetime. Thoughts of family brought to mind her own children. It seemed like a lifetime since she’d seen them last. Aware that thinking of them would only serve to make her sad, she focused on the beautiful surroundings instead. “You were right,” she said to Dominic. “This is a paradise.”
The lush green land was awash with both color and fragrance, and everywhere she looked she saw beauty. The road they were traveling took them away from the beach and into a forest of tall trees. Birds of all hues and sizes flew overhead calling to their neighbors to alert them to the wagon’s passage.
As they rode along, Dominic asked Anna about people in the community, but Clare didn’t know them so she passed the time soaking in the sights and sounds of her surroundings instead. While he and Anna and Richmond conversed, he absently slid a bent knuckle over the skin of her neck in a seemingly unconscious way, but she was very conscious of the warm touch and her reaction to it.
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