The Blue Enchantress

by Marylu Tyndall

  “I asked you what you wanted.” Hope pressed a hand to her roiling stomach. “Or do you enjoy bullying young ladies?”

  “Zooks, bullying? Nay, I had quite the opposite in mind.” He once again took liberties with his gaze, sending a shiver of disgust through Hope.

  “But I fear I am getting ahead of myself.” He retreated, clasped his hands behind his back, and took on the air of a gentleman at court. “I came to offer you one more chance to accept my invitation to voyage with us day after next.”

  Hope furrowed her brow. “Why do you press the matter?” The man had not shown much interest in her before, save an occasional salacious glance.

  “As a man in the service of His Majesty”—he took on a condescending tone—“I represent the nobility of my office. I cannot in good conscience allow a lady to stay in the company of men whose reputations are, shall we say, less than refined.”

  Hope grimaced. Nathaniel’s actions had more than proven his reputation, whilst this man’s character remained dubious. Major Paine fingered the gold buttons of his waistcoat and waited as though expecting an outpouring of praise for his kindness and nobility. She narrowed her eyes. If even a bit of what he said was true, then his concern should also include Abigail. “But what of Miss Sheldon? Is she not worth your protection as well?”

  The major flattened his lips and shrugged. “By the manner of her vocation, Miss Sheldon chooses to associate with ... shall we say ... questionable sorts.”

  “She is a missionary, sir, bringing God’s Word to those in need. The manner of her vocation, as you call it, exalts her situation high above the rest of us here on this island. And it would seem to me that fact alone would necessitate your protection.”

  The lines of his face grew taut. “If she is as exalted as you say, then let her God protect her. She matters not to me.” He looked down at the dirt and ground his teeth together. “I will not, cannot bear to see a man of Mr. Mason’s station enjoy a beauty as yourself.”

  “Enjoy? How dare you!” Hope drew back her hand to slap his face, but her ankle gave way, and she bent over in pain. “He does not enjoy me at all,” she panted, realizing the grim truth of her own words.

  “Come now. Let us put pretense aside, madam. I am a worldly man, and I understand the way of things.” The major took her elbow to assist her, but she jerked from his grasp.

  “You understand nothing.” Hope hobbled backward. “This has naught to do with your sense of honor, nor your concern for me. ’Tis merely a matter of your wounded pride.”

  He glanced off as if pondering the question for the first time. “Perhaps.” He tugged his loosened cravat from his neck. “You could call it that, I suppose.” He stepped closer. “But if you’re worried about my affections, I’m sure they will come in time.” He slid a finger over her cheek and down her neck. Hope slapped his hand away before he could go farther. She turned to run, willing herself to endure the pain in her ankle, but he clamped his hand around her arm and swung her around. Wincing, she faced him. Nausea churned in her belly.

  Visions of another man and a time long ago slithered through her mind, awakening terror. A man much like the major. A man who crept into her bedchamber at night. Blood pounded in her ears. Her chest heaved. Not again, Lord. Not again.

  “Will you come with me or not?” the major fumed.

  Hope lengthened her stance and grabbed a lock of her hair. “No, I will not.”

  “Foolish girl,” he spat, his face reddening. “I will have you one way or another.” His gaze crawled to her mouth.

  Hope’s ankle throbbed. Her heart constricted, and her knees began to buckle. But rather than shrink back in fear, rather than accept her fate as she had done the last time, she narrowed a scathing look upon him. “If you try to kiss me, I warn you, I shall take a bite out of those despicable, slimy lips.”

  ***

  “If you try to kiss her, Major, you’ll feel the bite of my sword as well.” Nathaniel shoved the last branch aside and burst into the clearing.

  Releasing Hope, the major swung around, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.

  Nathaniel stepped toward him and leveled the tip of his blade at the major’s chest. He clenched his jaw, trying to quell the fury storming through every muscle.

  “Swounds, calm yourself, man.” The major cocked one brow. “The lady and I were merely getting better acquainted.”

  “I don’t believe the lady was enjoying the experience.”

  The major’s hand twitched over his blade, and Nathaniel gave a slight shake of his head.

  “I would not consider that, Major. I suggest you take your leave before my temper gets the best of me and I run you through.”

  Major Paine stretched out his neck as if trying to untie a knot in his throat. “Very well.” A low growl of anger simmered beneath the quiver in his voice. He snatched his coat and cravat from the log and fumbled with them.

  Relieved, Nathaniel sheathed his blade and dared a glance at Hope. When he’d first caught sight of the major’s body hovering over her, terror and fury had charged through him. But aside from the slight quiver of her bottom lip and the moist sheen covering her eyes, she appeared unharmed.

  The major stomped toward Nathaniel, directing a look of reproach at Hope, then spread his coat over his arm. A supercilious grin played upon his lips.

  A bright flash caught Nathaniel’s eye. Before he could react, the major swung his blade out from beneath his coat and jabbed its tip upon Nathaniel’s throat.

  Hope gasped and Nathaniel chided himself for not watching the man more carefully.

  “You may have her.” The major twirled the tip of his sword across Nathaniel’s chest and flung his coat over his other arm. “What would I want with a mere strumpet anyway?”

  Nathaniel would have laughed at the man’s pompous display if not for the vulgar name he’d just called Miss Hope. He swerved to his left and snatched the major’s coat from his arm. Casting it around the offending sword, he snapped the blade from the major’s hand and hurled it into the air. With a swoosh, it whipped through the clearing, flashing where the sunlight caught the steel, before a large clump of foliage swallowed it up.

  The major stared incredulously as if he had not yet digested what had happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Nathaniel slammed his fist across his face. The major’s head jerked to the left, and he stumbled back, arms flailing, and collapsed in the middle of a bush. His dirty, bare feet poked out from the shrubbery, twitching. A low growl filled the air.

  Pulling out his blade, Nathaniel stormed toward him, parted the leaves with his sword, and leveled it upon the major’s chest. “Begone, before I finish the job.”

  The major scrambled to his feet, rubbing his jaw, his eyes wide with fury and fear. Then he turned and scurried into the undergrowth like a rat caught in the sunlight.

  Hope sank back onto the tree and stared at Nathaniel. Her golden hair danced across her waist in the light breeze. Her chest rose and fell, and her moist sapphire eyes brimmed with such admiration and desperation, Nathaniel swallowed against the thrill they evoked in him. Sheathing his sword, he dashed to her and allowed his eyes to search for any injuries. He thanked God when he found none.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. Nathaniel reached up, hesitated against a rush of confusion, then brushed them away with his thumbs. She closed her eyes beneath his touch.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Hope shook her head. Her eyes opened and searched his as if seeking an invitation. Although he tried to force all desire, concern, and affection from his face, she fell into his embrace anyway. As she pressed against him, his body went rigid, unsure, ill at ease with her so close. Then slowly he wrapped his arms around her and held her head against his shoulder. She needed him. How could he deny her? Sobs racked her body, and she squeezed him tighter. “Thank you, Nathaniel.”

  She smelled like sunshine and clean water, and he drew in a deep breath of her, berating himself for not arriving soo
ner. When Abigail had come to him, and in an urgent voice told him Hope needed assistance, he’d been reluctant to rush to her aid. The last week of caring for her had taxed his emotions beyond the point of breaking, and he’d hoped to put some distance between them now that she was well. So, after he insisted Abigail remain behind due to the rapid approach of darkness, he’d ambled across the island like a spoiled boy sent on an errand.

  “Shhh. You are safe now, Hope.”

  As she leaned against his chest, a pleasurable, dangerous shard of heat went through him, and he eased her back.

  “Ouch,” she murmured, and only then did he remember her ankle.

  Daring to touch her again, he circled an arm around her waist and lowered her to a fallen log. “Forgive me.” He knelt beside her.

  “’Tis nothing. I told Abigail not to bother you.” She sniffed and raised a hand to her nose. “But as it turns out, I’m glad she did.”

  “May I?” He gestured toward her foot, and when she nodded, he eased the hem of her gown back, wondering all along at his sanity in doing so. He could have Abigail check her foot back at camp. Nathaniel examined the puffy skin around the ankle and turned it ever so slightly.

  She groaned.

  “My apologies.” He lowered her foot to the ground. “I believe ’tis only a sprain, but you should stay off of it for a few days.”

  A tear slid down her face, and her bottom lip quivered again. He swallowed, searching for the anger, the disdain he’d once felt for this woman, but the feelings had fled him like traitorous cowards when he needed them most. “The major is a swaggering cur. But we shall be rid of him soon.”

  “One can only hope.”

  Against his better judgment, Nathaniel took her hand in his and held it as he had through the long hours of the night while her fever had raged. He reached up to wipe another tear from her face, but his thumb landed on her lips and he eased it over them, longing to take away her pain.

  She closed her eyes and parted her lips beneath his touch. Instinctively, he leaned forward and placed his mouth on hers. A light kiss, meant only to comfort her, to erase the memory of Major Paine, but its effect set Nathaniel aflame. He backed away, unable to calm the violent beating of his heart.

  Her eyes met his. Innocent, questioning. “What was that for?”

  “To comfort you.” His voice came out raspy and deep, and he hoped she didn’t notice the desire burning within it.

  She smiled. “I believe it worked.” She brushed her fingers over his stubbled jaw and studied his face. Admiration and a spark of apprehension flickered in her eyes, creating a tumult of conflicting emotions within Nathaniel.

  He brushed his thumb over her moist lips again. When she didn’t turn away, all resolve left, and he claimed her mouth, kissing her hungrily. Wrapping one arm around her back, he pressed her closer and lost himself in her touch, in her need for his comfort and protection.

  A bird squawked overhead and a gust of wind blew over him, jolting him, and he jerked away from her.

  Shock and joy mingled in her sapphire eyes. Her chest rose and fell as heavily as his. Her sweet breath swirled over him, luring him back into her mesmerizing spell.

  Nathaniel tore his gaze from her. “Forgive me.”

  “I don’t believe I will.” She smiled and gave him a playful look. “But just to be clear, this time, you kissed me first.”

  “Aye, I’ll admit to that.” Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck, an unavoidable smirk lifting his lips. “I wanted to ease your fears.”

  “You have succeeded.”

  And he would love nothing more than to continue the treatment. Why did he so easily succumb to her charms? Lord, where is the strength You promised? And Your promise not to allow me to be tempted beyond what I can resist? Yet the truth of that verse meant he could have resisted her. He should have resisted her.

  Perhaps the truth was that he didn’t want to.

  Shame deflated his desire, and he released her.

  Her wounded look pierced him. “You want so badly to be angry at me, to disdain me.”

  Nathaniel shot to his feet. He must distance himself from her—put the temptation out of his sight. “I cannot associate with you, Hope. We must stay away from one another.” He turned his back to her.

  “’Tis Abigail, isn’t it?” Her voice quivered with pain.

  “Abigail?” He shook his head but still did not face her. “What has she to do with this?”

  A green and yellow bird dove into the clearing, swooped by Nathaniel’s head, and landed on a branch, then began twittering as if scolding Nathaniel for his behavior.

  “What frightens you?” Hope asked.

  He raked a hand through his hair and took up a pace across the sandy soil. “I’m not good for you, and you’re not good for me.” He could no longer deny his growing affections for Hope, but simply because they existed did not mean they were in God’s will. Men were drawn to many things—greed for wealth, liquor, illicit affairs—that in the end caused their destruction. If Nathaniel was to rise above his past, he could not do it with a woman like Hope. He faced her.

  “What you mean is I’m not good enough for you.” She lowered her gaze and fingered the lace spilling from her sleeves. “Good enough to kiss, but not good enough to love.” Spite rang in her voice, along with despondency.

  “That was not my meaning.” A pain sliced his heart, and he headed toward her.

  She held up a hand. “Keep your distance, Mr. Mason, or you may be tempted to accost me again. Apparently I have that effect on men.”

  “Accost you? Fire and thunder.” Nathaniel halted and rubbed an old ache burning on his side. He clenched his fists. “You have that effect on men because you freely toss your affections at every man who looks your way.”

  “How dare you?” Fire shot from her eyes. She tried to get up but winced and shrank back onto the log, releasing a sigh of defeat. “Maybe I have done so in the past, but I’ve not behaved in such a way lately.”

  “Really, and what of Gavin?”

  “What of Mr. Keese?”

  “Can you deny you have affection for him? That you constantly flatter him and play the coquette in his presence?”

  “I do no such thing!” Hope tugged on a lock of hair and tossed out her chin. “Jealous?”

  “Ha!” He snorted, more from the guilt assailing him at the truth of her statement than in defiance of it. Regardless, he must make her see her part in these dangerous dalliances. “’Tis why men take liberties with you.” He pointed in the direction Major Paine had gone. Yet even as he said the words, he chided himself for being unfair and softened his tone. “Hope, why do you cast your virtue, your very self—something so precious—to the dogs?”

  Her cheeks burned red. She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut and raised her seething gaze to his.

  Her obstinacy rekindled his fury. “Fire and thunder, woman, I will not forfeit my last ship to rescue you from another wanton affair.”

  Struggling to rise, she let out a gasp of pain but managed to stand, leaning her weight on one foot. “Never fear, Mr. Mason, I would never allow you to do so again.”

  She stared at him stonefaced, her twitching jaw indicating her inner turmoil. Sniffing, she raised a hand to her nose again as grief pooled in her eyes. Despite every effort, Nathaniel’s anger fled him once more, and he opened his mouth to apologize. She spoke first.

  “How wonderful to be so perfect, so indispensable. You supply our food, build our shelters, preach God’s Word, and even heal us, all the while looking down your imperious nose at us sinners.” She waved a hand through the air. “You are correct, sir. I beg you, do not associate with me further, for I have no doubt the filth of my past, of my very character will soon tarnish you. And we can’t have that. Not while you’re building your merchant fleet and making a name for yourself.”

  Nathaniel grimaced, her words boring deep into the truth in his soul. Regardless, they bolstered his decision to keep his distance f
rom her. A decision once made and firmly resolved to keep should have brought him relief, strength, but all he felt was anguish, pain, and regret. He steeled himself to approach her. “I’ll carry you back to camp.”

  “I’d rather crawl.” She raised her nose and looked away from him, but not before he saw the moisture in her eyes.

  “You will do no such thing. I’ll not leave you out here to be attacked again.”

  “Relieve yourself of the burden, Mr. Mason. I shan’t expect your rescue in the future.”

  Back to Mr. Mason, is it? Sorrow tugged at him. He held out his hands. “Nevertheless.” Without awaiting further protest, he hoisted her into his arms. She stiffened at his touch but did not struggle, nor reach her arms around his neck, nor even look at him. And the loss he felt threatened to outweigh any prior loss—even that of his ship.

  CHAPTER 21

  Hope lay on a bed of fresh leaves and listened to the sweet chorus of birds beckoning her awake. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see their oblong shadows drifting over the sunlit palm branches that formed the roof of her tiny hut. She smiled at the happy way they flitted about, singing their carefree melody. The island boasted a multitude of birds, each one adorned in the most crisp bright shades of green, yellow, red, even purple and blue, that Hope had ever seen—more beautiful than the most elegant and plush gowns on London’s finest ladies. These exquisite creatures didn’t possess wealth or title, yet they flew about happily as kings and queens of the air, all the while gazing down on the pathetic human race bound to sand and dirt.

  The birds’ melodies heightened and joined in perfect unison as if they were inviting Hope to join them. How she wished she could shed her human stains, her ugliness, and transform into one of those more lofty creatures and fly away, away from her earthbound existence, away from her past, away from the pain of rejection.

  A scripture verse popped into her mind from a long time ago, something about birds not sowing or reaping or worrying about tomorrow, yet their Father in heaven feeds them and cares for them. Hope sighed, forcing down her longing to be loved—to be cared for in such a way.