Throughout their meal the lantern overhead swung to and fro, casting strange shadows across the faces gathered beneath. Meanwhile, the storm increased in rage. It seemed to Rhea, as she grabbed for her goblet of wine, that the storm was venting all of its fury on the Sea Dragon, for the ship was straining against her anchor, and the sounds of the wind howling through the rigging and the rain slashing against the deck were almost deafening.
“Glad we’re in a safe harbor,” Alastair commented idly as he sipped his brandy, a look of contentment spreading across his face as he stared at his empty plate. “Lord, what a feast that was,” he declared, lifting his glass in a toast to a gratified Kirby. “That coconut cake goes without comparison.”
“Aye, ’twas tasty, that. I’m thinkin’ we’re goin’ to be findin’ that treasure, for with food like this, one has to be a king,” Fitzsimmons mused.
“I trust you are right, Mr. Fitzsimmons,” Clarke said longingly, “for I’ve already selected the land I want to buy on Nevis, and ’twould be nice to think I’ll not be too old to do more than sit in the garden.”
“And to be sure,” Fitzsimmons contributed, winking at Rhea, who was smiling thoughtfully, “I’d like to be findin’ meself a sweetheart with golden hair and eyes as fair as flowers. But I’ll have to have me fortune in order to support her in a style she be accustomed to, and at the rate I’m goin’, she’ll be silver-haired and wizened by the time I can be askin’ for her hand.”
The captain of the Sea Dragon rose abruptly from the table. “Gentlemen, the hour grows late, and if we intend to do more than just talk of treasure, then I would suggest we get our rest. Tomorrow, if this storm clears, will be a full day’s work for even an able-bodied man, much less one with only half his wits,” he said firmly, effectively ending the conviviality. “M’lady, I will escort you to your cabin, for it seems that the storm is not the only disturbance this evening.”
Rhea accepted his hand as she rose from the table, smiling uneasily at the chastened men who had quickly risen to their feet and were exchanging awkward glances with one another.
At the door to her cabin, Dante paused, his eyes shadowed by thoughts that only he seemed to understand. He gazed down in fascination at the delicate rise and fall of Rhea’s breasts, the lace fluttering enticingly against her pale golden skin.
“Captain,” Rhea said, anxious to break that tense silence that developed between them whenever they were alone, “I have thought much on this today, and this evening, as I heard your crew talk of the treasure and listened to Mr. Clarke and Seumus speak of their hopes.” Rhea paused nervously, not certain how to bring this subject up. “I’d like to ask, what if there is no treasure to be found?”
“That is a chance that we all knew existed,” Dante remarked offhandedly, as if it were of no great concern to him.
“There still can be some sort of fortune for each man, though certainly not as much as his share would have been from a sunken treasure,” Rhea said, her voice quickening with her thoughts. “There still will be a reward for my return, and it will be you and the crew of the Sea Dragon who have rescued me. I shall see that my father pays each man well,” she said confidently. Then, when she saw the anger glittering in Dante Leighton’s eyes, she could not imagine how she had offended him, since she was only trying to help. “And your share, Captain, would be considerable. It would—” But Rhea proceeded no further, for Dante had grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him while he stared down into her startled eyes.
“Do not ever offer me money, Rhea. I will return you to your father, but not for money. I am not that desperate a man,” he said softly, his hand lingering against her throat where he could feel the pulse beating wildly. “I did not intend to frighten you, but let it be a lesson remembered. You are Lady Rhea Claire Dominick, but I am still captain of the Sea Dragon. Although we’re far from the shores of England, we remain who we are,” he warned her just before his mouth closed over her lips.
As she trembled in his arms, he braced himself against the door while pressing her warm body to his, his lips exploring the scented softness of the curve of her breast before returning to her lips, which were parted, waiting for his in surrender. He knew then a surge of relief that she had not repulsed him, that she wanted him, that this strange spark that seemed to ignite between them could still flame into a passion, which if ever unleashed, would consume them, and change both of them forever. With that thought came a painful cooling of his ardor, and with an abruptness that left Rhea confused, he pushed her into her cabin and closed the door between them.
Rhea stood for a moment in silence, disbelieving of what had just happened, for she could still feel the warmth of his lips against her skin. She sat abruptly on her bunk and wished Dante Leighton on the bottom of the sea.
Dante, breathing raggedly, leaned his arm against her closed door. If Rhea had had any idea of how much it had cost him to release her, she might have felt comforted. Dante smote the door with his fist, but it impacted in silence, the roar of the storm drowning out all other sounds. He stared around at the familiar bulkheads of the Sea Dragon, his beloved ship, and with a feeling of growing frustration—a kind he had not known before, even when he had left Merdraco—he realized that this would not be enough. Alastair’s words came back to haunt him, for he knew that Rhea Claire deserved better than a sea captain lover. The retrieval of this treasure meant more to him now than ever before, and his seeking of vengeance was paling beside his desire to possess Rhea. But with her being the daughter of Lucien Dominick, he knew he would have to be more than an ex-privateer and smuggler to become the husband of that particular duke’s daughter. He needed that fortune to keep Rhea in the manner in which she deserved and to which she was accustomed.
He could take her now, make her cry out for him, love him, but it would not be fair, and because he did love her, he would not do that to her. He would lose her before subjecting her to the uncertainties and danger that fate held for a man who was little better than an adventurer. Nor would he crawl on his hands and knees to her father for support. None would ever be able to say that he had married Rhea Claire Dominick for her money.
As Dante stood there in the dimly lit corridor, he knew a bitter, angry helplessness as he stared at that closed door, behind which was the woman who should be his but was just out of reach. With a bleakness of mind and spirit that he had not known in years, Dante went on deck, preferring to face the full wrath of the storm rather than his own restless, discouraging thoughts.
Dawn came with a brightness that seemed to instill new spirit into the crew of the Sea Dragon as they set about once again on their search of the cove for their long-sought-after treasure. Rhea and Conny were preparing to cross the cove to their special beach, which had changed dramatically during the night due to the wind and tide. They could see that trees had been pulled from their moorings and that sand bars had created tide pools to explore. But suddenly, as they stood in conversation with Kirby, who had been waiting with them for Longacres to return from depositing the anxious treasure hunters, a shout the likes of which Rhea had never before heard, nor would again, cut through the serenity of the peaceful little cove and sent the wild birds shrieking into the clear morning skies.
“What the devil?” Kirby exclaimed, his eyes squinting into slits as he tried to see the shore.
“They’ve found something, Mr. Kirby!” Conny cried, jumping up and down, his eyesight far keener than the older man’s, and he had seen the waving, dancing figures running along the sands of the narrow stretch of beach. “’Tis the treasure! ’Tis the treasure!” Conny screamed, his shrill voice startling Jamaica, who struggled free of Rhea’s arms.
“Ye just keep comin’, ye old pirate!” Kirby yelled to Longacres, whose hesitancy suggested he was going to turn back to shore without picking up his passengers. “Get yeself over here! If ’tis a treasure they be yellin’ about, then ’twill still be there even after colle
cting us! ’Tisn’t goin’ anywhere after all o’ this time,” the little steward berated him from the quarterdeck. “Now row! Row!” he urged the panting Longacres as he sped across the stretch between ship and shore, never having rowed so fast, nor thought a piece of water so endless.
Rhea stared toward shore. She could make out the individual figures of some of the men as they ran toward the northernmost end of the beach, the point hidden by a promontory of land that jutted out and left just a narrow passage of sand around the headland.
“Well, come on, don’t just stand there a-gawkin’!” Longacres called up to them as the gig bumped against the hull of the Sea Dragon.
They clambered aboard, rocking the boat dangerously as they settled down for the short row across the cove. As they neared the lee shore, their straining eyes were full of anticipation. Alastair was standing there waiting for them, and waded into the shallows to help Longacres and Kirby drag the gig ashore.
“Is it the treasure, Mr. Marlowe, sir? Is it?” Conny cried out as his feet touched the beach. But he waited not for an answer as he sped along the sand and sent it flying up into the faces of Longacres and Kirby, who were hurrying along behind him, the little steward’s short legs eating up the distance as he kept pace with the other two.
Rhea met Alastair’s glowing eyes and did not need to ask the question. With her own eyes shining, she stood on tiptoe and flung her arms around him, pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“Oh, Alastair, I am so glad for you!” she told him, forgetting her own unhappiness of the night before as she was caught up in the exuberance of the crew of the Sea Dragon. At least she forgot about it until she heard that mocking voice.
“And what of me, Lady Rhea?” Dante asked, having walked unobserved along the beach, only to find Rhea kissing his supercargo. “Am I not deserving of congratulations too?” he demanded. But there was no anger or sarcasm in his voice now, and his pale gray eyes were still alight with the exhilaration of the incredible discovery the crew of the Sea Dragon had made.
Alastair grinned, freeing himself from Rhea’s lingering hand on his sleeve. Then, with a jaunty step, he hurried back up the beach, impatient to gaze again on the glorious sight.
“Congratulations, Captain,” Rhea responded warily, not certain how to react to this new Dante Leighton, for the look in his eye was completely different than the one that had shadowed its depths last evening.
“Dante. That is my name, Rhea,” he told her, coming a step closer. He was wearing only his breeches, his tanned chest bare to the sun’s warmth and his sinewy arms glistening with sweat.
“Congratulations, Dante,” Rhea said obligingly, feeling that devastating weakness spreading through her as she met his eyes. But she also felt something else, something far more dangerous creeping through her—it was a growing feeling of affection for this devilish captain of the Sea Dragon. It was an emotion totally different from the sensuous attraction he held for her, yet it was just as effective a form of seduction as those physical desires were.
He was like a proud little boy, eyes shining with mischief and a secret to share. Her violet eyes met his questioningly, her heart beating uncomfortably as she saw the warm tenderness in them.
“Do I not get a kiss? Since the Sea Dragon’s supercargo did, I should think her captain would be deserving of so sweet a token,” he said, sounding almost humble.
Rhea stood on tiptoe again, her palms pressed flat against that muscular bare chest, and touched her lips softly to his hard cheek. But as she would have lowered her heels to the sand again, she felt his arms sliding around her waist, tipping her against his hips as he turned his cheek, his mouth meeting hers in a gentle, exploring kiss, in which neither of them demanded of the other, content just to be touching ever so softly.
Dante stared down at her, his smile gently mocking, enchanting her with its boyish playfulness, and perhaps holding the promise of future shared moments.
“Come,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Let me show you what the crew of the Sea Dragon has found.”
It was incredible, as if another world had split wide and spilled forth a piece of time, for there against the far end of the beach rose a stark reminder of a once glorious past: the rotting mainmast of one of Spain’s proud gold ships.
It rose bare of sail and rigging, standing at an angle above the skeletal remains of the galleon’s decks. A gaping hole bit into the galleon’s starboard side amidships, and in there Rhea saw rusty, worm-eaten chests scattered across the ship’s hold.
“Our Spanish foretopman didn’t even have to get his breeches wet to retrieve his booty,” Dante commented as he eyed the wreck a trifle sadly, disliking to see any shipwreck. “The hurricane that caught the convoy must have blown this galleon into our cove here, crushing her against the rocks.”
“Why didn’t you find it sooner?” Rhea asked.
“We have the storm of last night to thank for this discovery, for we most likely would never have found it otherwise,” Dante explained, gesturing at the newly formed sandbanks and stretch of beach.
“It has been years since the Spaniard died, and during that time I imagine there have been several hurricanes and great storms which have changed the appearance of this cove, just like what happened last night. The ship was buried under the shifting shoals. I think we have fortune to thank for being here during such a storm. Now, if we can salvage all of these chests before another storm comes along and buries the ship under another twenty feet of sand, then I shall think fortune is truly smiling on the crew of the Sea Dragon,” Dante said with a laugh, a challenging glint in his eye as he stared up at the blue skies above his head.
“Would you like to see our treasure?” he invited Rhea and guided her over to a chest that had been dragged free of the wreck, its warped wood having given way to the blade of an ax, which had freed its contents of gold and silver coins that now lay scattered in the sand.
“’Tis a fortune, m’lady!” Fitzsimmons chuckled, rubbing his hands together as he eyed the chest of coins that would change his future. “Ah, m’lady, I’m thinkin’ them violet eyes of yours have brought us good fortune!”
“We have already found several gold ingots, and there are more chests full of these newly minted coins,” Dante said, his gaze narrowed as he watched his crew scrambling over the wreck. “As soon as their excitement levels off, we shall have to go about this in a bit more orderly fashion,” Dante told Alastair, who had approached with an armful of artifacts.
“Found these in the stern. Must be from some rich passenger’s cabin, or maybe the captain’s,” he told them, holding out a corroded pistol, its barrel eaten away by the sea. “Here’s some silverware and a golden cross. ’Tis incredible to think that these once belonged to some Spanish captain, or grandee, perhaps,” Alastair said with a shake of his head, obviously awed by the wreck and the memories buried with it.
Conny came running up, his hands full of golden coins. “Lady Rhea! We’re rich! We’ve found the treasure!” he cried, his face full of excitement and adventure as he raced off again to explore further treasures.
Rhea stood for a while watching the salvaging, which Dante had finally managed to make orderly. All of the chests were being disgorged from the ship’s hold and placed in neat rows along the beach, while Alastair started to compile a list of the contents—anything that was tossed to shore. Later, there would be an equal division of the treasure from the sunken Spanish galleon.
As the day passed, noontime coming and going, early afternoon drifting into lengthening shadows, Rhea made herself useful by aiding Kirby in his preparations for supper; then she helped Alastair in the detailing of items, rinsing off crystal goblets and decanters that had somehow survived the destruction of the galleon in the hurricane. But most of her day was spent commenting on the different items brought to her for her inspection by each crew member, and listening to each man’s dream of what he
would do with his share of the recovered treasure.
Rhea saw little of Dante, for he supervised and worked alongside his men the whole day. Finally, when Kirby was returning to the Sea Dragon to pack a hamper to carry back to shore, Rhea returned with him. The crew would be celebrating on the shore tonight, cooking their food over open fires as they talked, laughed, sang, and danced in a nightlong celebration of their success as treasure hunters.
“Kirby,” Rhea said suddenly, glancing at her grubby hands as she pushed a straggling curl off her cheek.
“Yes, m’lady?” the little steward replied as he rowed toward the Sea Dragon, which was looming out of the water before them.
“I feel so grimy I can scarcely stand to touch myself. If we are going to have a proper celebration tonight, then I want to feel clean. Will you let me fetch my soap, then row me across the cove where I can bathe in privacy?” she asked.
“Aye, m’lady, ’twill be me pleasure, only wish some of them others were so inclined,” he said with a grin. “You wait here, and I’ll get ye things fer ye, then ye’ll be able to have a minute to yourself. Ye’ve worked like one o’ the crew today, m’lady,” he said, having seen that day she’d never lazed around, and had always been willing to lend a helping hand to someone.
After collecting her toiletries for her and rowing her across the cove, Kirby beached the gig and told her, “I’ll be back fer ye in about an hour, all right? ’Twill take me that long to get my preparations for the feast.”
“That will be perfect,” Rhea said. Then, as she turned away, she heard the gentle stroke of the oars splashing into the water as he made his way back to the Sea Dragon.
Rhea sighed in pleasure at having the beach to herself. The sun was still well above the horizon as she walked along the hot sands. The low-lying scrub and palms shielded her from the distant shore at the other end of the cove as she wandered around the gentle bend that formed a secluded little bathing lagoon, which had a sandy bottom that was visible through the still, crystal waters.
Chance the Winds of Fortune Page 54
