Sea of Desire

by Christine Dorsey

  At the helm, Jared guided his schooner through the inner channel between James Island and the middle ground, the shoal that had helped protect Charles Town when the British attacked the port in ‘76. Three of Admiral Parker’s ships ran ashore on the shoal in the harbor. Two managed to wrest free, badly damaged, but the third was abandoned and burned.

  Jared was in France when the attack took place. When his fellow Carolinians, in a half-finished fort made of palmetto logs, outmanned and outgunned, rebuffed the British fleet. He heard of it weeks later and experienced a swell of pride for his homeland.

  Rumor was, the British were now planning another assault. Hopefully the weapons in the Carolina’s hold would help the small city repel it. And this time, Jared planned to be here to defend what was his.

  “That there’s St. Michael’s,” Tim said, his thin finger pointing toward a steeple, its roof reflecting the morning sun. “And there’s St. Philip’s.” He shifted slightly, drawing Merideth’s attention to another equally lovely spire. “That’s where Cap’n Blackstone got me.”

  Merideth turned to look at the boy from under the brim of her hat. They stood on the deck as the Carolina skimmed into Charles Town harbor. “I thought he found you in an alley near the docks.”

  “Aye, he done that. But then he took me back to St. Philip’s on account a they take care a the poor and the orphaned.

  “ ‘Tweren’t too bad there,” he continued. “Had me pretty near ‘nough ta eat, but I still didn’t like it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wanted ta go ta sea,” he replied, obviously surprised she couldn’t figure that out for herself.

  “I imagine you relayed your wish to Captain Blackstone?”

  “Aye.” A grin spread across his freckled face. “And he came back for me, he did. Just like that.” Tim snapped his fingers.

  Laughing, Merideth shook her head. “You’re a rogue, Timothy. You and the captain deserve each other.”

  “What a ye, yer Ladyship? Will ye be stayin’ with him?”

  The question was asked innocently enough. Merideth was sure Tim didn’t realize all the implications of his query. Captain Blackstone had taken him in, and he was fiercely loyal. The boy expected Merideth to be the same.

  But the captain hadn’t taken her in. He’d kidnapped her. And though she was surely in love with him, she couldn’t stay when it wasn’t reciprocated. She was not Jared’s cabin boy. She was his mistress. And her future was as vague as the mist rising over the twin church steeples.

  After giving Tim a noncommittal answer, Merideth went below to ponder her immediate future. She packed her few belongings in the small trunk Jared had given her, then sat on the window seat.

  She thought about seeking Daniel Wallis. Though she’d spoken to him rarely since the day he offered to get her back to England, Merideth assumed it was still a possibility. Several times over the last few days, she caught him staring at her, his eyes questioning. When she looked up he raised his brow as if to remind her that she’d given him no answer. But the captain was always there, offering her no time to discuss the matter further with his cousin.

  Merideth pressed her forehead to the stern windows. Her breath fogged the glass as she watched small boats skim over the waves in the harbor. With her finger she traced through the moisture. How could she give Daniel an answer when she didn’t know what it should be?

  By midmorning the captain returned to his cabin. The Carolina was docked, and her crew was busy unloading the munitions from her hold.

  “I thought you might like a chance to walk on solid ground,” he said as he entered the cabin. “We keep a house in Charles Town that is a mite more comfortable than this.” Jared’s hand swept the cramped quarters. He was dressed in a dark-blue waistcoat. The stock of his pristine white shirt was tied neatly about his neck. His black hair was brushed and clubbed with a dark ribbon.

  After weeks of seeing him as wild and free, with his hair blowing in the wind, and his shirt sleeves rolled to reveal muscled forearms, it seemed strange to be reminded that he could appear civilized. However, Merideth doubted any amount of polishing could completely mask the untamed spirit that lay just beneath the surface.

  He held out his hand, and tentatively Merideth took it. Remaining on the ship would do her no good. Perhaps at his house she could speak to Daniel in private.

  She was slightly surprised when they crossed the gangplank onto the noisy wharf without Daniel. “Isn’t your cousin accompanying us?” she asked as her legs adjusted to the lack of sway the solid ground offered.

  “He’ll be along directly, I imagine.”

  “But don’t you think we should wait for him?”

  Her question seemed to surprise the captain, for he stopped. Merideth’s hand rested on his sleeve, and she realized she had tightened her fingers. He looked first at her hand, small and pale against the dark-blue fabric, then into her eyes.

  Suspicion, an expression of the captain’s she knew too well, veiled his handsome features. “Why the sudden interest in my cousin?”

  They stood on the crowded dock, a small oasis surrounded by swarms of people. But though she stood still, Merideth’s emotions were as jumbled as the activity around her. Her fingers instinctively reached for her locket. She caught herself before she touched the smooth gold, and hoped he didn’t notice the nervous movement of her hand. He’d told her once that she touched the locket whenever she was upset... or lying. “I have no interest in Daniel,” she lied, and turned away from him.

  The raucous cries of seagulls served as a backdrop to the noise and bustle on the docks. For a moment it all seemed to close in around her. Then she felt Jared’s strong hand grasp her elbow and he forged a path for them.

  Men With sleek skin, black as ebony, rolled giant barrels or hefted smaller ones on their broad shoulders. Merideth had seen blackamoors before. There were two among the Carolina’s crew. But she’d never imagined to see so many in one place.

  “ ‘Tis not far to Tradd Street,” he said when they’d cleared the busiest part of the dock. Merideth glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the Carolina’s mast towering above the Cooper River. The sight filled her with a longing to be back on the high seas again. To be free, at least temporarily, from the decision she had to make.

  But soon Merideth’s natural curiosity overcame even her worry of the future. The captain’s walk was brisk, but it didn’t stop Merideth from gaping wide-eyed at her surroundings. Everything was new and different, from the trees—Jared called them palmettos—with their top plumage of broad serrated leaves, to the odd-smelling mud that choked the streets.

  They crossed East Bay, where there were still signs of earthworks thrown up during the battle two years earlier. On Tradd Street there were pavements, six feet wide and made of brick and mortar, that made the walking easier. The mansions along the tree-lined street were impressive, large with gardens full of strange, sweet-smelling flowers. In Land’s End a chill would be in the air, but not here. It was as warm as midsummer.

  The house they stopped before didn’t appear as large as some, but as they went through the ironwork gate Merideth realized it was really the side of the house that fronted the street. Three stories high, with tall casement windows, shuttered now against the sun, and a pediment-surrounded front door, the house was covered with cream-colored stucco.

  An elderly man with frizzled white hair opened the set in front door, his face breaking instantly into a nearly toothless smile. “Master Jared, ‘tis really you? Welcome home, sir.”

  “How are you, Seth?” Jared stepped back to allow Merideth to enter. The hallway was wide and cool, compared to the outside, and smelled faintly of beeswax.

  “I’m good, sir. Theo done told us he saw the Carolina in the harbor early this mornin’ when he went to market, but I had a hard time givin’ it credit.”

  “It has been a long time.” Jared squeezed the old man’s shoulder. The livery he wore was faded several shades lighter than its
original scarlet, but spotless. “I’ve brought a guest, Seth. This is Lady Banistar.”

  The old man bowed and Merideth thought she could hear his joints cracking. After that he led them off the hall into a large room with raised paneled walls painted a soft cream like the exterior. Aubusson rugs covered the dark floors that shone in the filtered sunlight coming through the shutters. The room was open and bright, and though not so large as the parlor at Banistar Hall, there were no dark corners to make one feel unwelcome.

  While Seth went for refreshments the captain absently wandered about the room, picking up a crystal bowl, following the curve of a winged chair. It was almost as if he were reacquainting himself with the house. Merideth leaned back and then looked around.

  Nothing was as she’d expected. Not Charles Town. Certainly not this house. Silk framed the windows and covered the delicate settee where she sat. Silver sconces bracketed a gilded mirror above the carved wooden mantle.

  “The main drawing room is on the second floor,” Jared said, startling her. “My parents used to hold balls up there. The smaller west parlor’s doors open to make one huge room.”

  “What...? Oh.” Merideth glanced around to see Jared watching her, an amused smile on his face. Did he know what she was thinking? Merideth felt a blush creep up her neck. He’d obviously caught her examining the room. “Your house... It’s lovely.”

  “But not what you expected.”

  “Well, I didn’t—” Merideth cut short her statement, then slowly shook her head. “Not really. I thought it might be a bit more...” At a loss for the correct word, Merideth paused.

  “Primitive?” Jared supplied, his dark brow arched.

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “We ‘colonials’ are as fond of the creature comforts as the British. Actually, the house doesn’t look near as grand as when I left. But then I suppose the war has something to do with that.”

  Merideth glanced down at her hands, then back at him. He was now leaning against the fireplace, his elbow on the mantel, his ankles crossed. “You sound as if you have wonderful memories of here.”

  “I do.” Jared took a deep breath. “This house stands on the original property where my great-grandmother lived.”

  “The one who married the pirate?”

  “Aye, the very same,” he said, nodding. “The house was destroyed when a fire swept through the city in 1740. Some years later my grandparents built this over the ashes.” He ran his finger along the carved scrolls. “Before my parents died we all moved to town every winter, for the season. At first I remember hating it, because that meant we had to leave Royal Oak.” He shrugged, his smile revealing the dimple. “But as we grew older, John and I decided there were far more beautiful ladies in Charles Town than on the plantation.”

  Merideth laughed. “Always the rogue.”

  Jared shook his head, the devilish grin deepening the radiating lines at the corners of his eyes. “Actually, the balls and races were pleasant diversions, but I’ve always felt more at home at Royal Oak.”

  “Or on the bow of a ship.”

  “That too. Ah, here’s Seth.” Jared pushed away from the mantel and met the older man as he entered the room. He took the large silver tray and set it on the tea table in front of the settee. Then he settled beside Merideth, his thighs brushing against her skirt, and indicated the chair across from them for Seth.

  “Tell me how things are,” Jared asked while Merideth poured tea from the silver pot. “Is Mr. Guthre in?”

  “No sir. He done left day ‘fore yesterday for Royal Oak.”

  “Really.” Bartrom Guthre was a distant cousin, son of a ne’er-do-well, yet himself possessing a keen mind for business. When John and Jared had left for France and the English Channel, they’d put Bart in charge of the Blackstone family’s business. He supervised the indigo plantation and saw to the warehouses in town.

  “I don’t rightly know when he’s comin’ back to Charles Town, sir.”

  “No matter. Lady Merideth and I are leaving for Port Royal within the hour anyway.”

  “Within the—” The hand bringing the delicate china cup to her lips stilled as Merideth twisted toward him. “But we can’t do that.”

  “And why is that?”

  Why indeed. Merideth could hardly say that she needed time to speak to Daniel Wallis. That he’d promised to see her safely back to England. That though she didn’t want to go... to leave Jared... she couldn’t stay. Not the way things were.

  “I’m just surprised you wish to leave so soon.” Merideth took a sip of tea to wet her suddenly dry mouth. “We... we just arrived.”

  His expression was unreadable as he leveled his green eyes on her... waiting. Merideth swallowed. “What of Daniel? Is he to come with us?”

  “He’ll come to Royal Oak in his own good time, I suppose.”

  “Surely before he leaves for Philadelphia.” She was revealing too much. Merideth knew that, but she didn’t seem able to help herself.

  The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you should rest before we go.” He rang a small silver bell, and when a round-cheeked black woman appeared at the door he introduced her as Evy and asked her to show Merideth upstairs. With that the captain turned back to Seth. As Merideth retreated from the room she could hear the men discussing the British attack on Charles Town.

  “Ya be wantin’ anythin’ else, ma’am?” the young woman inquired after she’d poured water from the pitcher into the china bowl and set out linen towels.

  “No. No, thank you.” Merideth bit her lip. “Except... When Daniel Wallis is in Charles Town he does live here, doesn’t he?” Perhaps he would show up before they departed.

  The woman’s friendly smile dissolved. She bustled toward the door, turning the knob before answering. “That one lives here most a the time,” was all she said before leaving and shutting the door behind her.

  Alone in the room, Merideth cupped water in her hands and splashed it onto her hot cheeks. With her eyes closed she leaned forward, wondering how she would ever get away from the man she loved... the man who didn’t return that love. And worse, who believed her a traitor.

  Her one hope, that Daniel would come to the house on Tradd Street before they left, faded as she and the captain mounted horses at the stables to the rear of the property.

  They rode south along a sandy dirt road lined with towering pines till they reached the Ashley River. After being ferried across, they continued until it was nearly dark. They stopped at a plantation house owned by the Weller family. Mrs. Weller and her widowed daughter were the only ones at home, and they seemed delighted to see Jared.

  He quickly supplied them with news from Charles Town, for which they seemed very eager. Merideth got the impression that news traveled slowly in the Low Country, as the captain referred to this area of Charles Town.

  The ladies’ reception of Merideth was polite but stilted. At first she thought this the result of her introduction as Lady Merideth Banistar. The younger woman’s husband was dead as a result of the fighting at Charles Town. Lucy Weller, her mother, spoke often of her son-in-law’s bravery when the English attacked the town. He had been one of Colonel Moultrie’s officers.

  But as they sat in the huge dining room beneath the prismed luster, Merideth suspected the thinly veiled animosity was rooted in more than hatred of the English.

  Lucinda Weller King couldn’t keep her eyes off of Jared Blackstone.

  She smiled at him constantly. She laughed, her lower face hidden beneath the flair of her fan, whenever he said something even remotely humorous, and she touched him at every opportunity.

  Merideth found the display disgusting.

  As the evening wore on, Merideth grew more withdrawn—not that anyone had been interested in what she’d had to say earlier anyway. It was obvious from the conversation that the Wellers and Blackstones had been friends forever. It was also obvious that Lucinda had had her cap set for Jared before her marriage.

  “Oh, do you reme
mber that New Year’s ball at Mrs. Gordon’s Long Room? I declare, you were so upset when Alexander King escorted me to dinner.

  “And the Newmarket Race Track at Goose Creek. Do you remember?” she asked as she wove her arm through his and led the way from the dining room into the parlor. “You were so besotted you begged for one of my ribbons to wear as your colors. Just like a knight of old, you said. And you won. Do you remember that, Jared?”

  Merideth wasn’t close enough to hear the captain’s reply, nor to see the way Lucinda looked up at him, but she could imagine the lashes above the woman’s limpid brown eyes were fluttering furiously.

  It wasn’t until the ladies learned of Merideth’s recent visit to the French capital that they showed any interest in her. Then they couldn’t seem to hear enough. While Lucinda sat by the captain’s side, Merideth answered questions, giving detailed description of the gowns she saw and wore.

  When she finally pleaded fatigue and was shown to a large well-appointed room by a black servant, she had a throbbing headache.

  It was still upon her the following morning.

  They spent the night in separate rooms, and rose early to breakfast on ham and eggs, potatoes and biscuits and fish. Lucinda, dressed in a powder-blue gown with rows of lace frothing from the elbow-length sleeve, suggested Jared stay another day.

  “Oh, and you too, Lady Merideth,” she added sweetly.

  But Jared declined, promising to come back for a long visit as soon as he could. He assured them he needed to get to Royal Oak without delay to assure himself it suffered no ill from the war.

  They were both silent as they rode side by side along the path. The land was low and swampy in places, the soil dark. As the day progressed, the weather grew hotter, the air thick with moisture and droning insects.

  “I imagine we’ll have a storm before long. Hopefully we’ll make it to Royal Oak before it breaks.”