The first officer started to speak, but there was no mistaking the fury boiling in Derek Arnhardt at that moment. Garris could see his face in the dim glow of the ship's running lights.
So with an exaggerated sigh, which, he decided, would have to take the place of a parting shot, he retreated, shaking his head from side to side in frustration. He had accomplished nothing. But at least Arnhardt knew his first officer and his crew were upset. That should give him something to think on, Edsel decided.
Derek's grip on the railing relaxed. He didn't need Garris to tell him about the crew's feelings. He'd seen it in their eyes, which were accusing and brooding. They didn't like Julie being on board, and it didn't make any difference that they were aware she was his mistress. They cared only that the ransom hadn't been paid and she seemed to have become a permanent fixture.
Frankly, he didn't know what to do with her. He had to admit, if only to himself, that it didn't look as though the ransom was going to be paid. And there had been time. Too much time.
He had thought of a hundred possibilities which might have prevented Mrs. Marshal from making the contact at Wilmington, but as time passed, all of his reasons grew weaker and weaker. Something had gone wrong. Either she'd died or didn't have the money. He knew Virgil Oates didn't have it.
He could have used that gold, too, at least what would've been left of it after he divided it with Julie as he promised. It was still profitable running the blockade, but not as much as before the Confederate government stepped in. It was smuggled luxuries that people wanted, items such as tea, coffee, sugar, and silks and satins. But the government had outlawed the importation of some luxuries entirely, stipulating that one-half of the space on every ship had to be reserved for government goods.
Derek didn't like it. There was more money to be made on luxury items, but he wanted no quarrel with the powers of the Confederacy, and conformed with the law.
He could've put his part of the ransom aside for use after the war, he thought with disappointment. More and more he was questioning his life on the sea. True, he loved it, but now and then he had a strange desire to plant his feet on solid earth. Yet he would always hoist anchor and sail with the tide.
Julie was badgering him also, wanting to know what the future held. Though they enjoyed each other's bodies every night, and sometimes even in the balmy afternoons, they did not discuss a future. Theirs was a relationship existing solely to satisfy physical needs for the moment at hand, he reasoned. Tomorrow simply did not exist for them.
Derek had admitted to himself that if he allowed himself, he could fall in love with the misty-eyed beauty. But he kept himself in check. His heart would belong to no woman, no matter how lovely and enticing she might be.
He knew Garris was right. Something had to be done, and soon. It couldn't go on. And, though he didn't like to think about it, the fact remained that he was constantly putting Julie in a dangerous situation. Running the blockade was not something to be regarded lightly. Each man held his breath as they slipped through, knowing they could be spotted and fired upon at any second.
He decided the time had come to free her. Sure, he would miss her. No point in lying to himself about that. But reality had to be faced. No money was going to be paid, and he figured he had no right to endanger her life any longer. So... he'd just leave her in Bermuda and give her enough money to buy passage to England. And if she wanted to go home instead, she could find a way. It would all be up to her.
Sunrise. He squinted toward the east. Was the sky turning the least bit pink? He couldn't tell yet.
Soon it would be time to say goodbye and never see her again. The muscle in his jaw twitched. No, he wouldn't just say goodbye so abruptly. He'd do something he ordinarily didn't do. He'd send his crew ashore for leave. Usually they were in and out of port so fast there was no time for them to make merry and get drunk. This time, however, he'd make time, because the ship would be anchored in the harbor, and once he sent everyone in, he'd be alone with Julie.
He laughed aloud over his plans. Many times she had stared wistfully at the clear emerald waters surrounding the sandy pink beaches of Bermuda and murmured that she would like to go for a swim. Well, she was going to have her chance, he decided. For two golden days and nights, they were going to frolic on the ship and in the water. They would savor the delights of each other's bodies, tasting the fruits one last time before parting forever.
As though an unseen hand lifted a nonexistent curtain, the sky suddenly became pale pink, then shifted to a rosy hue, and a new day was born.
Almost simultaneously the cry of "Land, ho!" split the reverent stillness of dawn, and Derek turned his gaze on the first sighting of the coast of Bermuda.
For the next few hours, the deck was alive with activity as men hurried back and forth to unload the cargo of cotton which had been brought through the blockade from Wilmington. Derek went onshore to take care of the paper work, pleased to learn he could pick up ammunition needed by the Confederacy, as well as medical supplies, and that there would still be room left in the hold for tea and sugar and fine silks. He'd make one hell of a profit off this run back through the Federal fleet.
By late afternoon, the ship's bowels were empty. Edsel reported to Derek's cabin to ask if they should wait till morning to begin taking on the new cargo.
"No," was his curt reply. "Have the men prepare to take the ship one mile out and drop anchor."
"What?" Edsel's eyes bulged. "What for—"
Derek slammed his hands down on his desk. "Dammit, why in hell do you keep questioning me? Now follow my orders at once."
"As you wish!" Garris ground out the words, turned on his heel, and stomped from the cabin.
Derek smiled, leaned back in his chair, and propped his feet on the desk. Soon he and Julie would be alone to romp like children, with no watchful eyes about. They would have complete freedom, no longer forced to be confined to a narrow bed in a cramped cabin.
All he had to do was wait. When the ship was secured, he walked out on the bridge after having the crew summoned. In clipped tones he informed them that, beginning immediately, they were on shore leave, and he would expect them back on board by sunrise of the third day. With all the cheering and shouts of jubilation, he doubted any of them had heard the termination date. No matter. He would inform Garris and Watson, and it would be their task to round up the crew. No doubt some of them would be in jail, and others hung over from too much rum and too many women. Loading the new cargo would be a problem, as he wouldn't get much work out of his crew till they got over their celebration—but it would all be worth it, he knew, to have the precious, private, final hours with Julie.
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 lay 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 cajoled 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 after-bridge 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 l
eave 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—"
This Rebel Heart Page 16
