Souls Aflame

Home > Other > Souls Aflame > Page 17
Souls Aflame Page 17

by Patricia Hagan


  Edsel hurried to the bridge, his face tight with agitation. His mouth twisted in silent anger before he finally exploded, “Well, this came as quite a surprise, Captain. Since when have you stopped letting your first officer in on your plans?”

  Derek ignored his question and ordered him to have the men take the rowboats to shore. “Miss Marshal and I will be staying onboard.”

  “Aha! So this is why you’re giving the men leave. You plan to have a private holiday, just the two of you.”

  Derek withered him with a look.

  Edsel’s smile faded, then he dared to say what was burning inside him. “It looks to me like you’re getting rather involved with her, Captain. I mean, you’re taking several days off just to spend with her, sending the men ashore when you know some of them won’t return or will wind up in trouble—”

  “You won’t have to worry about my involvement with her much longer. When we go back into port, she’ll be staying behind.”

  “Thank God!” Edsel was beaming with joy and relief. “At last we’ll be rid of her and can return to serious business.”

  He started to leave, then whipped back around to say, “I’m glad, Captain, really glad. I was starting to worry that you had finally met a woman who could take your mind off your ship, and with us in the middle of a war, now’s not the time.”

  “Will you get out of here?” Derek snarled. “I’ve grown tired of all your prattling and needling, Garris. You’re worse than the sea wives on the wharves in Wilmington.”

  He pushed by Garris to move swiftly from the bridge. Brushing by happy, noisy crewmen, he made his way through the throng to the steps that led to the lower deck. Reaching Julie’s cabin, he flung the door open, not bothering to knock.

  She lifted sea-green eyes to stare at him, marveling, as always, over the way he seemed to fill the doorway with his hugeness. She murmured a greeting from where she sat at the little table, brushing her long hair. Tossing the tresses back over her shoulder, she asked, “What was all that cheering about? Is something happening I don’t know about?”

  She saw the way he stared at her. The dressing gown she wore was lavender satin trimmed with delicate lace and tiny ribbons. While she was brushing her hair, she was bent over, and her breasts poured from the gown. Straightening, she laid the brush aside and rose. “Derek, why won’t you answer me? What’s wrong?”

  She walked to where he stood. The top of her head barely reached beneath his chin. As she traced his lips gently with her fingertips, he stiffened, and she cried, “There is something wrong. I can feel it. Tell me, please.”

  “Nothing is wrong.” He smiled warmly, then told her of his plans to send the crew ashore so they could be alone, adding, “You can have that swim you’ve been wanting, as we’ll have the ship all to ourselves.”

  She threw her arms around him, standing on tiptoe as she tried to reach his lips, but as always, he had to lift her up for their kiss. As he set her back down, she laughed, “I think I’ll get myself a stool and keep it close by so I can kiss you whenever I want.”

  “What is a little inconvenience,” he responded with a soft chuckle, “when so much pleasure awaits us once the obstacle is overcome?”

  And they clung together, each stirred by the deep, soul-searing embrace.

  Finally the ship was a good distance from shore, and they were alone. They stood together on the afterdeck, staring toward the coastline of Bermuda.

  The sky reminded Julie of the periwinkles that lined the streets of Savannah, and the clouds were shaded in silver and tinged with the reflection of the pink coral beneath the water’s surface.

  A balmy, tropical wind blew across their faces. Licking her lips, Julie said, “I can understand why you love the sea so much, Derek. After a time, it becomes a part of you.”

  “As you’ve become a part of me these past months,” he whispered huskily, turning to fold his arms about her.

  Coquettishly, she cocked her head, eyes dancing mischievously. “Oh, come now, Captain, sir. Don’t tell me you’ve allowed yourself to be charmed and smitten by a woman. Weren’t you the man who told me once that women serve only one purpose?”

  “Yes, and you’ve served it well.”

  A shadow passed over her face, and the happy glow disappeared. Derek saw and gave her a squeeze. “Oh, come now, Julie. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. I want these two days to be special for us, so let’s don’t spoil it by talking of serious things. Let’s just enjoy each other.”

  She took a deep breath, lifting her face away from him, toward the sea. She was a fool, she knew, to entertain notions of ever meaning anything to this man. He was right. They would enjoy each other, just as they always did. They would couple and experience passion, joy, everything that went with the act. And afterward there would be nothing between them except anticipation of the next encounter.

  Julie was wearing a simple cotton dress of sunshine yellow. Her hair was caught at the back of her neck by a matching ribbon. Derek’s eyes locked with hers as he reached to free her hair, touching the tresses lovingly with his fingers as they tumbled around her shoulders and face.

  Moving his hands behind her back, he began to fumble with the stays. “I want you to take off all your clothes, Julie.” He spoke with the tone he would use to his crew: authoritative and final. “I plan to keep you naked for the time we’re out here.”

  “Will you join me?” she asked suddenly. He gave her a look of surprise, but she couldn’t put her thoughts into words. It made her feel absolutely wicked to admit it, even to herself, but she adored seeing his naked body. She never ceased being thrilled by the magnificence of his physique, the sheer beauty of his manliness.

  As he unfastened her clothes, she unbuttoned his shirt with busy, deft fingers, loving the touch of the thickly curling hairs upon his chest. Pressing her cheek against the down, she could not suppress the delicious sigh that escaped her lips.

  When they were both naked, he led her to one of the covered hatches and spread an empty burlap bag across its top. “I’ve thought of taking you here, misty eyes, right in the open, with the breeze kissing our bodies.”

  He lifted her easily, and she lay back, opening her arms and legs to receive him.

  There was no need for foreplay. Disrobing each other had aroused them to a fever pitch. Quickly he positioned himself to stand between her parted thighs, plunging up and in as she gasped with delight while he filled her. With his feet firmly planted on deck, he had the necessary leverage to thrust to and fro more firmly and surely than ever before.

  Her senses screamed, and she raked her nails down his broad back. If he felt pain, he didn’t show it.

  Somewhere overhead a sea gull screeched, shocked, perhaps, by the sight of the man and woman copulating on the ship’s deck. With a great flapping of wings, it soared higher, then dipped, swirled, and disappeared from sight.

  Julie opened her eyes momentarily and saw the gull. She felt the quickening in her loins, and, like the graceful white bird, she, too, was soon soaring higher and higher, screaming with her own delight. Derek moved faster, harder, and soon he joined her in her celestial flight.

  He held her for a long time. Neither of them spoke, lost in thought over the awesome glory of the moment shared.

  Finally Derek released her and suggested they go for a swim. He seemed delighted by her prowess in the water, and they played and splashed like children in the clear, cool waters.

  Julie felt a happy glow she had never experienced with him before. It was as though she had never really known him; now there was no pretense. She found she liked him more and more as he seemed to relax and let himself go.

  Derek teased her about her cooking that night, saying he’d probably die of poisoning before the ship’s cook returned.

  “Well, the galley is almost empty,” she replied in defense. “Besides, I thought this was supposed to be a holiday, and you’re making me a slave.”

  “You can be both slave and mistress,” he c
ajoled her. “Right now, I want you to be my mistress.”

  Shoving his plate of food to one side, he grabbed her about the waist, pulling her down onto the long table. And he took her then and there.

  On the last afternoon, Julie stood on the afterbridge once again, this time staring toward the shoreline with a thoughtful expression. When Derek asked why she was so quiet, she did not answer but instead murmured, “I suppose they’ll be coming in the morning.”

  He was silent for so long that she turned to stare at him. “Derek, the crew will be coming in the morning, won’t they?”

  “They were told to report at dawn,” he snapped in reply, his face tight. “Then we’ll go into port to take on new cargo.”

  Reaching out to slip her hand into his, she asked, “Is that why you’re annoyed? Because it’s time to discuss what to do with me? We haven’t talked about it lately, and I can feel the resentment of the others.”

  He did not speak.

  She squeezed his hand. “Derek, we can’t go on like this…”

  He glanced at her, sighed, then turned his gaze back to the gently rolling waters. “No, Julie,” he said finally. “We can’t.”

  “Then what’s to become of me?” she cried, suddenly bristling with anger and also embarrassed to be naked before him, even though they’d frolicked together that way for the past two days. She reached out and snatched up a burlap bag that was nearby, draping it around her body and holding it in place with shaking hands. “Do you plan to just set me adrift?”

  “I can leave you in Bermuda,” was his quiet response. “I’ll make sure you have the necessary money for whatever you plan to do. You can go on to England or make your way back to Savannah. It’s up to you.”

  She felt like crying and could not understand why. After all, she reasoned, freedom was near at last, and this knowledge should have made her happy, not sad.

  “Just leave me in Bermuda.” She blinked furiously, fighting to hold back the tears. “And don’t worry. I can take care of myself. If I find myself starving, I can always go to work in some bawdy house. After all, you’ve taught me well…”

  “I’ve taught you?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Julie, what are you trying to say?”

  Her green eyes snapped with the fires of hell. “What man would want me after you kept me on board your ship all this time? Everyone will know you forced me to share your bed—”

  “Forced you?” he bellowed. “Now where do you come by that idea? Julie, don’t you start yelling rape. I never had to force you, and you know it. I might’ve persuaded you and taken unfair advantage of you. Maybe it’s fair to say I seduced you, but dammit, I never really made you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “You aren’t being fair. And what are you so mad about, anyway? I told you I’m giving you your freedom. What more do you want?”

  “Something you can’t give me, because you’ve taken it away!” she shouted, her black hair falling wildly about her face. “Decency!”

  “Decency?” he echoed, bewildered.

  “That’s something you seem to find difficult to credit a woman with.”

  She whirled away from him, hating herself for being so foolish. Why was she reacting in such a way—saying such things? All she wanted was her freedom, and he was giving her that. There was no reason for her to be angry, except over having been kidnapped in the first place.

  “I suppose you think I should marry you.” His voice was frosty.

  “Marry me?” She turned slowly to face him incredulously. “You—you think I want to marry you?”

  “That’s the impression you give me. You talk about decency, and in your mind, I imagine that’s the only way you’d ever feel your virtue was restored, by becoming my wife. I’ve told you, Julie, my wife is the sea. Now if you want me to find a place for you in Bermuda, I’ll take care of you, and—”

  “And you’ll let me be your mistress!” She felt as though her heart were breaking into bits and pieces, dissolving as quickly as the white-foamed breakers smashing against the sandy shore. But she wouldn’t let him know it. Oh, no, he was far too cocky as it was.

  “I wouldn’t be your mistress or your wife. I want to be free of you, and as for what we’ve shared, I’ll just look back on it as a time in my life when I stooped as low as a mating animal—just to experience what it’s like to grovel in filth so I can appreciate being a respectable woman…”

  “Julie, you come back here…”

  Ignoring his call, she walked with chin held high, looking neither right nor left as she moved ahead to the steps. Only when she was in her cabin with the door locked and bolted behind her did she give way to the stinging, burning tears that demanded to be released.

  She was a fool—a complete, utter fool. Why had she given in to him? she asked her tormented brain. He’d made it clear from the first he only wanted the pleasures her body could bring him…and she had given herself to him freely.

  True, there was nothing he could do but let her go now that it was apparent no ransom was going to be paid, but at least, she reasoned, he might have behaved as though he cared—if only a little. That would have salvaged some of her pride. He didn’t have to behave as though she were just some river trollop he’d picked up for a few nights of debauchery.

  She had felt all along that her mother would never be able to raise the amount Derek demanded, but in the back of her mind had believed Virgil would. Could it be possible Derek had told the truth when he said the man was a fake—that he wasn’t wealthy as he claimed?

  So now she was faced with the decision of what to do with her life. Would her mother have returned to Savannah? Julie had no way of knowing.

  She tried to sort out her thoughts, but it was difficult to think with her head aching from all the tears she had shed. Turning over on her back, she closed her eyes, trying to blot everything from her mind. If she could relax, the throbbing pain would go away, and she could think about what she must do…

  When she opened her eyes, Julie was staring into darkness. How long had she slept? Silence surrounded her with the oppressive cloak of night.

  She sat up and swung around so that her bare feet touched the rough wooden floor.

  Where was Derek? He was probably still angry over their argument, or, she reasoned, he would have been down to make amends. But maybe he didn’t want to make peace. Why should he? After all, he’d be leaving her behind, never to see her again. He probably wasn’t at all concerned over whether their parting was amiable.

  Her stomach gave a hungry lurch. With a sigh, she decided there was nothing to do for the moment but go to the galley and find something to eat. Tomorrow she would leave the ship. There was no point in worrying until then.

  But still, there was a pain in her heart she found disturbing. Surely she did not actually feel something for the man. With a toss of her head, she told herself she was being silly. It was over. It must be forgotten. All of it.

  Leaving her cabin, she turned toward the galley, then decided it was only polite to ask Derek if he’d like something to eat also. She told herself she really didn’t care whether or not he was hungry—it was that stove. She hadn’t mastered it and didn’t like using it when he wasn’t around. She could forget about pride for the moment—at least until her screaming belly was fed.

  Still, in the back of her mind, a little voice shouted, You do care…you care whether he’s hungry…and you care about him…

  “That’s absurd!” she said out loud, angrily, bitterly. The voice kept nagging her.

  Looking up as she ascended the steps, she could see the night was clear, the sky a purple backdrop for the thousands of glittering stars that sprinkled the heavens.

  It was difficult to see, but once her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could make out objects and shapes well enough that she wouldn’t stumble and go sprawling upon the deck.

  She called to Derek as soon as she reached the top step. “Derek, where are yo
u?” Her tone was clipped, short—anything but friendly. “We can call another truce long enough to eat, if you’ll help me with that confounded stove…”

  There was no answer.

  A wave of apprehension swept over her. Then she told herself there was no need to be frightened. Derek was probably in his cabin, brooding over her caustic remarks or busying himself with charts and maps.

  Or maybe, she thought suspiciously, he was deliberately not answering because he wanted to frighten her. All right, then, let him think he’d succeeded. She would go to the galley and rummage up whatever she could find to eat without using the old stove. He could go hungry.

  A cool breeze whispered across her bare skin, and she realized she was still naked. Cursing herself, she started for her cabin to dress. It had become a habit all too quickly, she mused, this cavorting in the nude.

  “Miss Marshal.”

  She froze, terror constricting her throat. That was not Derek’s voice.

  Someone was there, stepping out of the shadows, but she couldn’t make out his face. Her legs were frozen, and she could not move…could not scream. Was it one of the crewmen returning early? He mustn’t find her like this—without a stitch on.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she was able to will her legs to move…but not soon enough. As she started to scurry down the steps, the man grabbed her arm and held her tightly in his grip.

  “Don’t be afraid, Miss Marshal. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Captain Guthrie!”

  Her brain was spinning dizzily as she recognized his voice. “I—I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

  He chuckled with smug satisfaction. “I’ve been lurking about in these waters for months waiting for this opportunity. Arnhardt was a fool to think I’d let him get away with what he did to me and my crew. I would have searched for him the rest of my life, if necessary. And now I’ve found him—”

 

‹ Prev