“Because you are more beautiful, more interesting and less affected than most young women, and married to me.”
“Did the two of you have an understanding, Reed? Were you engaged to be married?”
“Heavens, no! Amy is cute, but always primping and fishing for compliments. Always playing games and trying to trap me. We grew up together, or to be more exact, she and my sister did. We attended balls and barbecues together, but I was never serious about her.”
“Perhaps she is serious about you, though,” Kathleen stated.
“To be honest, I believe she has set her cap for me, but she is not my type at all,” Reed declared.
“And what is your type, Captain Taylor?” she teased.
“I like my women tall and lithe with long legs, nicely rounded breasts, and slim hips,” he enumerated as he stalked her about the room. “And with long luxuriant hair to their hips, slanting green eyes, and naked in my bed,” he finished with a laugh as he pounced on her, knocking her backward onto the bed.
In turn, Kathleen told him of a peaceful childhood on the Emerald Isle, and how close she was to her mother and father. She related her mother’s death and how indulgent Papa had been after her return from school in England. She spoke of how her father and mother had met and loved the land and each other, and described the estate for him. Not once did she mention the shipping firm with the other seven ships or her sailing and fencing instructions.
“I will tell him later when I feel more sure of him,” she mused.
She described herself as a willful tomboy in her younger years, and spoke tenderly of Nanna and all her helpful ways, and she told him of her love for the sea and how thrilling it was to sail on the Kat-Ann to England with her papa so often.
“It is unusual to find a woman who possesses such a love of the sea and ships,” Reed told her. “I have noticed it in you, though I’ve kept silent. What do you think of so deeply when you stand so long staring into the waves?”
“It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure you would understand,” she said hesitantly, eyeing him speculatively.
“Try me.”
“Well, I think of the strength of the sea, of how awesome it is, of its changing moods and currents. After a while it becomes an entity as real as you or me, only more powerful. It speaks to your soul, whispers in your ear, envelopes your being and hears your heart and its troubles. At those times I feel very much a part of the sea, at home and at peace, as though I belong to it. This huge commanding force, be it gentle or angry, has a hold on me and won’t let go. When I used to think of Savannah I wondered if I would shrivel up and die after a while, not being free to sail so often.” Looking intently at him, she questioned, “Does that sound strange to you?”
“No, kitten. To someone who has not felt it or witnessed it, it would seem odd indeed, but knowing you as I do, it is rather mysterious and intriguing.”
“I’m glad you understand,” she told him, snuggling close.
“What I don’t understand about you would fill a book,” he added. “Where did an Irish lass learn to dance such a sensuous flamenco?”
Kathleen felt her face flush. “I had a Spanish roommate at school who taught me to dance and play the guitar.”
“And did this roommate tell you how alluring it would be to a man?” Reed quirked a dark eyebrow at her.
“Was it really?” she countered flirtatiously.
“You little vixen! You knew exactly what you were about every second! Tell me, Kat. What would you have done if I had gone off with Rosita instead?”
“I really hadn’t thought about that. Perhaps I would have done nothing, and then maybe I would have tried my charms on Dominique,” she taunted.
His handsome face darkened. “You are mine, Kat. Mine alone. Remember that. What is mine I keep,” he growled.
Kathleen tilted her chin stubbornly at him. “So do I,” she challenged, green eyes flashing.
Late afternoon of the fifth day of their self-imposed exile, Jean broke in on them. They were sitting on the rear patio talking when he strode out of the house past a flustered Joe. “Reed, Kathleen, my apologies for the intrusion.” Then to Reed he said, “We have a big black buck who tried to escape this afternoon. He is a valuable slave and will be worth a lot of money on the auction block. I cannot afford to have him marked up, but he must be whipped, Reed. I want you to administer the lashes; forty of them. You are good enough with the cat not to break his black hide,” Jean stated authoritatively. “I trust no one else with the task.”
“How soon?” Reed requested simply.
“As soon as you can get down there,” Jean replied. Kathleen considered this new aspect of her husband. All ship’s captains and quartermasters knew the use of the cat, but few men were proficient enough to administer the lashes and not break the skin. Usually a man’s back ended in shreds and tatters, sometimes to a point that muscles were severely damaged. She had seen many men whipped, but never by a master with the cat. Her curiosity was boundless.
“Reed! May I go along, please?”
He looked at her astonished. “It is not a pretty sight, Kat. Not exactly suited to a lady.”
“I know that.”
“Then why would you want to see it?”
“Just humor me, please, Reed. Lecture me later with the ‘I told you so’s.’”
“All right, you red-haired wildcat, come along.” He grabbed her upper arm, pulling her forward. “Maybe you should see this, for it will be an example of what is in store for you if I ever catch you bedding another man.”
Kathleen caught Jean’s pondering look. “Possessive lout, isn’t he?” she quipped lightly, arching her eyebrows.
The huge black man had been stripped and roped between two stakes set into the ground. Sweat glistened on his bare back. A crowd had gathered, and Kathleen noticed that the other slaves had been herded out of their huts and were being forced to witness the punishment.
Kathleen stopped at the inside edge of the circle as Jean and Reed walked toward the would-be escapee. Dominique spied her and came to stand at her side. “What are you doing here, cherie?”
“As crass as it sounds, I am curious, Dominique.”
He shrugged and said, “If it gets to be too much for you, I will walk you home.”
Jean announced to all the penalty and the reasons for it. Reed walked to the edge of the circle and accepted the whip from a man there. The whip was a cat-o’-nine tails. It was made of nine leather straps braided a third of the way down with knots tied at intervals the rest of the length of the straps. Reed flexed the whip, testing the weight and swing of it, making the leather sing. Taking a stance several feet behind the prisoner, he swung the whip from his side instead of extending his arm back from his shoulder as many men would have. The leather thongs whistled through the air, making a solid thwack as they made contact with bare flesh. The black man gasped in pain as Jean counted, “One.”
Reed swung the cat again and again in steady measured strokes as Jean continued to count. On the sixth stroke, the slave screamed aloud in his agony, his body convulsing with each contact of the whip. Angry red welts appeared on his back, but no blood flowed. Kathleen noted that with each swing Reed caused the tails to connect in another area of the man’s back. He would be welts from neck to legs by the time forty lashes had been applied. Unable to stand under the searing pain, the man’s legs collapsed beneath him, leaving him dangling by his bound wrists. By the twenty-fifth stroke his shrill screams had ceased. The slave had fallen unconscious and gave only grunts of pain when the whip stung his skin. Reed glanced questioningly at Jean who shook his head, motioning for Reed to continue. Reed reapplied the cat for the remaining lashes. Kathleen realized that this was done as an example to the watching slaves.
The fortieth lash was meted out and not a drop of blood ran from the man’s back. Still, he would be in much pain when he awoke, and probably unable to move without agony for quite a few days. The welts would disappear by auction time, but the memory of the
m would remain for months.
Reed tossed down the whip and strode to where Kathleen waited. “Still here?” he asked archly. “Well, my bloodthirsty Irish wench, what ran through your head as you viewed the flogging? Do you enjoy hearing a man scream with pain until his voice gives out and his mind refuses to function?”
She jutted her chin at him. “I did not relish hearing the man’s shrieks, nor observing his suffering. I did, however, admire your expertise with the cat. He will have no scars to show because of your skill. I had heard of men who could apply the lash so expertly, but doubted the reality of such talk until now.”
“Sometimes you astound me, Kat,” Reed said quiedy. “At times you seem so tender and vulnerable, and at others you accept life’s harshness in stride, hardly batting an eyelash.”
“There are times when it does not pay to reveal your emotions, Reed. It is a hard fact to learn, and even harder to enforce sometimes when feelings run deeply, but you lay yourself open to much heartache if you do not steel yourself against your own weaknesses at times.”
“From one so young that strikes me as a very strange attitude. Where is your trust in the world’s goodness, my sweet?” he asked, gazing tenderly into her serious face.
She shrugged and said, “I have my periods of trust too, when the time feels right to me, and when it doesn’t I draw on my own resources, trusting only my own abilities.”
Reed walked with his arm about her waist and thought, “You shield yourself from me, too, Kat. One day I hope you will not feel the need and will yield to me totally, without reserve.” Aloud he said, “I am here to protect you, kitten.”
“I know,” she replied, but thought silently, “And who will protect me from you, my love?”
Reed walked her home and left to talk matters over with Jean. “I won’t be long,” he promised. “We’ll eat as soon as I return.”
Kathleen waited for him on the patio. She renewed sewing his shirt while the light held, and as the sun set behind the trees beyond the bay, she sat quietly strumming her guitar. All at once the fine hairs on the back of her neck seemed to stand up, and a shiver ran through her. Some sixth sense told her danger was near. Although she could see nothing, she sensed something was about to happen. A sudden insight led her to lift her guitar from her lap and hold it before her. Just as she shielded herself with it, something hard struck it, splintering the wood and snapping the strings. She looked down to see a long dagger protruding from the shining body of the instrument. Her eyes scanned the darkening area beyond the garden and her ears picked up the muffled sound of running footsteps just as she perceived the shadowy form of a man disappearing into the darkness.
Kathleen leaped from her chair, overturning it in her haste. “Damn you, Pierre! I know it was you! That’s just your style, you coward!” She stood shaking with anger and relief.
“Kat! What’s wrong!” Reed came running out onto the patio. “I heard you screaming as soon as I hit the front gate!” His gaze took in the overturned chair. She turned and he saw the knife blade stuck firmly in the guitar. “My God!” His face went pale. “What went on?”
“A man—I can only guess who—just tried to kill me,” she shouted angrily. “The yellow-livered vermin stood out there in the shadows and pitched a knife at my heart. God only knows why I felt his presence in time to shield myself!”
“Pierre!” Reed snarled. “I’ll kill the skulking scum!” He wheeled around and started for the house.
Kathleen ran after him, grabbing his arm. “Reed! We can’t prove it was him!”
“Who else could it have been?” he stormed.
“Reed, please! Use your head! Without some proof it would be murder! You could hang! Please listen to me! Let it pass until we can prove it was him!” she begged, eyes brimming with tears.
Suddenly she was shaking uncontrollably, sobbing brokenly. He gathered her tenderly against his broad chest, stroking her back comfortingly. At length her sobs lessened and he led her to a chair. “Kat? Are you all right, sweetheart?”
“I will be.” She hiccuped, brushing at her wet cheeks. “Just don’t leave me, not yet.”
He kissed her sweetly. Her lips tasted of salt. “Oh, sugar. When I think how close I came to losing you!”
She clung to him, wrapping unsteady arms about his neck. “Hold me, darling. Let me feel your strength surround me. I need you so just now.”
He held her tightly and whispered, “I’m here, my sweet. I’m here.”
Chapter 10
AFTER a restless night and precious little sleep, Reed had reached a decision. He would take Kathleen to Savannah where she would be safe. Propped up on his elbow, he studied her sleeping form. “How I will miss her! This past week has been marvelous! I have learned so much more about her and yet, in a way, I find her even more of a mystery.” Reed thought of what her reaction would be when he told her he must take her to Savannah and return to Grande Terre alone, and he winced inwardly. “Damn Pierre’s dirty eyes! Kat and I were just beginning to pull together in this marriage instead of apart. Now this happens! Last night she needed me, reached out to me, and it felt so warm and right. I think she is finally starting to trust me. Will it destroy that awakening trust when I tell her we must be parted for a while? I must find the right way to tell her today.”
Kathleen stirred and slowly opened sleepy green eyes. A questioning look crossed her face when she saw him looking down at her, his tan face lined with concern. She reached up a slim hand and gently caressed his cheek. “Why the worried look?” she inquired sweetly.
“Not now!” His brain flashed a warning. “Don’t tell her yet. You already know what her reaction will be. Savor her sweetness while she is a warm and compliant kitten purring in your arms. Relish the taste of her offering herself openly and willingly to you one last time before you shatter this fragile illusion of love.”
He leaned over her, kissing her tenderly. “How lovely you look this morning, with your hair all tousled about your face, your cheeks still flushed.” One copper curl wound about his hand as if to capture it.
“Are you trying to seduce me with honeyed words, my prince?”
“Ha! You’ve found me out!” he joked, flashing her a brilliant smile. He nibbled her ear and she shivered deliciously. His lips found their way along her throat to one rose-tipped breast. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she pulled his head close to her as he tugged gently at her nipples. White-hot flames licked through her as his hand snaked across her stomach and between her legs. The rhythm of his fingers started a throbbing deep within her. His mouth found hers in a fiery kiss of desire as his tongue mated with her own. Her passions built as their lips blended and his fingers worked their magic. Her body writhed in agonized ecstasy as she moaned and cried out for release, a release which came in a mind-shattering explosion that left her shaky and trembling.
He caressed her tenderly, her head on his chest, until her breathing gradually returned to normal, and then he pulled her up, astraddle him. His blue eyes twinkled merrily as he commented, “Since you are sitting here so pertly, perhaps you would like to ride on top this time.” He helped her position herself. His hands firmly about her waist, he slowly lowered her onto himself. She gasped as she felt herself filled with him. Hands on his chest, she steadied herself as he continued to assist her movements. Lifting his head, he located her breast and teased the hardened tip with his tongue. Kathleen let out a strangled cry at the combination of sensations coursing through her like heat waves. Acceding to the wild, building need in both of them, he drove faster, and deeper within her as her eyes widened in wonder and passion. His thrust speared to the core of her being as he crashed fiercely into her. Her body and mind cried out. He heard small sounds emitting unbidden from her throat as she whipped her head back and forth in her torment. Their torture ended as wave after wave of delirious rapture throbbed through them, flooding them with wondrous ecstasy that knew no bounds and seemed to want never to subside. She cried out with the force of it an
d he clutched her tightly to him as their passion slowly diminished. Their bodies slippery with sweat, they lay sated in each other’s arms.
“Will I never fail to marvel at the heights you take me to? The enormity of the feelings you incite in my body?” she said weakly. “Just when I think you have taught me all there is to know, you find some new way to arouse me to a fever pitch.”
He laughed softly, and turning her face to his, he assured her, “There is more yet I can teach you, kitten. In time we will explore all the possibilities together.”
After a leisurely breakfast Reed suggested a walk on the beach, intending to tell her of his decision. They crossed the road and walked the beach along the outer edge of the fort, heading toward the southernmost tip of the island.
“Dominique was telling me of a ship that sank just off the point. He said that it was one of their most richly laden captures. Do you know where it lies?” Kathleen asked him.
“Just out there.” Reed pointed ot the location. “On a clear day with calm seas you can see the shadow of it in the water.” Reed shaded his eyes from the glare and studied the surface. Then he shrugged. He’d thought for a moment he’d seen movement in the water, but realized he must have been mistaken.
He looked back at Kathleen as she questioned, “Why haven’t they recovered the treasure if she lies so shallow?”
“There is no man willing to try. These waters are heavily infested with sharks. Why do you think I was so upset the day you saved your dolphin? They frequently enter the bay.”
Kathleen peered at the area he had pointed out. It was calm enough to see the wreckage. She too thought she saw movement, and frowned as she searched the water. Tugging at Reed’s sleeve, she pointed to a dark shadow, just beneath the surface of the water. They both watched as a swimmer’s head popped up on the surface.
“Who could be stupid enough to be swimming out there?” Reed wondered.
“It’s Rosita,” Kathleen informed him, a chilly calm entering her voice, “and from the looks of it, she has company arriving.” Four dark forms were silently skimming through the water in Rosita’s direction.
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