Tides of Passion

by Sara Orwig

  When Lianna awoke in bright sunshine, Josh had gone. He didn’t appear until shortly after noon for the main dinner, a cazuela of chicken, potatoes, beans, onions, and parsley.

  During the meal, Josh announced in his smooth, flowing Spanish, “We’re invited to a reception and ball at the Governor’s Palace.”

  A ball! With Josh! Her heart skipped in anticipation. She had never attended one because her father wouldn’t allow it. Then practicality brought her back to earth. “I won’t have an appropriate gown.”

  “There are seamstresses here who do excellent handwork. I brought material for this purpose. It’s a precious commodity in this land where dresses are willed from one generation to the next.”

  “You jest!”

  “No.” He leaned back, his hand resting on the table.

  “If only Melissa could know!”

  “Who’s Melissa?” He tilted his head to study her while he waited for her answer.

  “She was my best friend at home. The Hardestons lived on a neighboring farm and occasionally I was allowed to visit her or Melissa to visit me. She teased me for being so careful with clothes, for patching my plainest muslin dresses, but my father insisted on it.”

  Josh said warmly, “Your eyes sparkle when you smile.”

  “Your mind does jump from one thing to another!” she answered, hiding the sudden rush of pleasure. “When is the ball?” she asked.

  “In two weeks. It’s in our honor.”

  “Why our honor? We don’t know anyone.”

  “Because we’re new arrivals and because of my wealth and nobility.” The cynical note that was becoming more and more familiar to her crept into his voice. “And when they see you, my beautiful Spanish wife, they’ll rush to have more parties.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at him, and he nodded his head coolly.

  “There are paints and canvas in the sunroom for your use.”

  “Thank you,” she said again, and wondered if Josh had furnished the paint and canvas or if he had found them available.

  “This afternoon,” he said, “I’ll visit our estancia. It’s a short journey from town.”

  “Will you be gone long?” To her amazement, the prospect of his absence was unsettling.

  “I have no idea.” He shrugged. “Long enough to look over our one hundred and eighty thousand acres.”

  “Merciful saints!”

  “The land’s been divided and given to the conquerors,” he explained. “A relative came with Pizarro, consequently today, as his descendant, I have vast holdings here. There are stables behind this house. Soon I’ll make arrangements about a horse for you. I recall you said you like to ride.”

  “So you remembered,” she said.

  “I’ll always remember—everything, cara.” His eyes were the color of green moss, and as unreadable.

  A maid appeared to pour more wine. As she worked, her long black lashes were downcast, but Lianna recognized the face as the same she had glimpsed watching her in the library last night. As soon as the woman returned to the kitchen, Lianna asked Josh her name.

  “Juanita.”

  “There are so many servants here,” she said, not yet ready to tell Josh what she suspected.

  “What caused your sleeplessness during the night?”

  “Perhaps it was the new surroundings.” She tilted her head to observe him closely. “To have heard me turning, you must have lain awake as well.” In a voice dripping with innocence, she asked, “Did the new surroundings disturb you too?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “But you didn’t toss and turn.” Instantly she wished she could take back her words, as his eyebrow arched.

  “How amazing to discover that we both know, down to the smallest detail, how the other spent the night,” he said dryly.

  “You can be the most…” She closed her mouth.

  “Oh, don’t stop now! The most what? I’m breathless with suspense.”

  “Are you through eating?”

  “The most what? My mind reels with possibilities,” he teased.

  “The most aggravating man on earth!”

  “The most aggravating on earth,” he mused, as if she had paid him a compliment. “That makes me unique…”

  “Will you stop!” she said, tempted to yield to his merry banter. For the first time she saw how easily she might lose her heart to Josh—and how painful that would be.

  “I’m pursuing the conversation,” he continued. “It’s not often a beautiful woman has informed me that I’m so singular.”

  “You have a skin like a pig’s hide!” she said, hiding laughter. “Nothing pricks it!”

  He grinned, his white teeth flashing. Then he reached up to touch her cheek and the mere brush of his fingers was torment. “One thing—you don’t have a pig’s hide, mi amor.” His voice lowered softly. “No, ’tis soft as the petal of a flower.”

  “You’re impossible!” She barely knew what she said. His touch stirred a wild tingling, and the warmth in his eyes invaded her senses like wine.

  He arched an eyebrow. “What thoughts run through your mind when you look at me like that?”

  Her mind raced for an answer, frightened of the feelings surfacing. She said, “I’m thinking of a new ball gown.”

  He stared intently, then pushed back his chair and came around to stand beside her. The sun slanted in through the high windows and splashed across his white shirt, and she smelled a faint, fresh scent like woods on a summer day.

  “The material is in a trunk in my room; I’ll find a seamstress for you. Adiós, I won’t be back for several days.” Josh’s lips brushed her cheek lightly, and then he was gone.

  Juanita came to clear the table and Lianna looked at her impassive features, the large black eyes and long thin nose. Would she be in danger without Josh? The room felt cold, as if it were a place suddenly deprived of sunshine. And as she left to go to Josh’s room, the touch of his lips on her cheek lingered.

  At the foot of his bed stood the sea chest and a brown trunk with a high curved lid. Lianna tried the chest and discovered it was locked; then she opened the trunk and removed three bolts of white, pale green, and soft rose silk. Beneath the silk she found white tulle. Two more bundles of muslin lay near the bottom of the trunk, but these Lianna left untouched.

  She unrolled a few yards of rose silk and held up the material, turning and twisting in front of a pier glass. Josh had bought this for her. He would get a horse for her. Could he truly be indifferent and still shower her with gifts? And she knew that the material was necessary for his own purpose. He could not take his wife to the governor’s ball without a ball gown. Why did it matter? Was she losing her heart to Joshua Raven?

  The notion shook her, and Lianna leaned forward to peer at her blue eyes as if she could read an answer in them.

  “I’m not,” she said firmly, her voice loud in the silence. “I’m not and I won’t.” Grimly she clamped her jaw closed. If she did fall in love with him, it would be heartbreaking. He was an iron-willed, ruthless pirate who would not bend an inch, and the woman who loved him would be left waiting at home time after time while he was at sea risking his life as a privateer. For the first time she thought beyond the moment and looked at Josh’s future. “I won’t love you, Josh Raven,” she whispered, but the words sounded hollow.

  Within the hour, Madryn appeared, accompanied by her mother, Teresa, to commence the sewing. Lianna sketched a dress, showing them what she wanted, and in spite of her resolve, all the time she worked over the dress, she considered how it would look to Josh. She had to admit to herself she wanted to make him take notice of her, to soften the coldness she saw so often in his green eyes.

  Josh rode away from the house, turning up the long street, his thoughts going back over each word with Lianna, her smiles, her teasing. If only…

  He shut his mind, knowing that he should face reality and stop longing for what could not be. He was ushered into the wide, cool hallway of an el
egant house set behind high, thick walls. He waited, hearing a fountain splash in the courtyard, and then the butler reappeared to usher him into a salon where three men turned to face him.

  As his gaze ran swiftly over them, instantly recognizing the long slender face of Lord Bannister, the three stood up. Josh wondered how he would be received, aware all of them knew his past as well as his father.

  “Don Cristóbal,” Lord Bannister said in a jovial tone, watching as the butler closed the door. His voice lowered. “Joshua Raven, come meet our friends,” he said, stepping forward to shake Josh’s hand. Josh looked into warm brown eyes that seemed to hold no animosity. John Bannister’s handshake was firm.

  He turned to introduce Josh to the others. “This is Lord Brenthaven.”

  Josh met the direct stare of wide hazel eyes. With large features and a square, heavy jaw, Reginald Brenthaven was a taller, larger man than Josh. He smiled and shook hands.

  “Welcome to Santiago. We’re glad to have you. I’ve heard about your exploits and we can use your wits.”

  “Thank you, your grace.”

  “No, none of that. Reginald—or use the Spanish name Gerado. We need each other’s friendship.”

  Josh began to relax, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. He had braced for the same rejection he had always found in London, and when it wasn’t forthcoming, he felt an enormous relief. The relief was short-lived as he turned to meet Timothy Paddington. Josh looked into icy blue eyes and saw scorn that was plainly visible.

  “Lord Paddington, Josh Raven.”

  The handshake was brief and limp as Timothy Paddington withdrew his hand swiftly. “I hope we can count on your loyalty. Your reputation precedes you.”

  The words were enough to warrant a calling-out, and Josh’s temper flared, but he curbed it swiftly as Lord Brenthaven stepped closer.

  “Come now, Timothy. We have to band together if we’re to accomplish anything.” He took Josh’s arm. “Come sit down while we bring you up-to-date on the troops and the people in Santiago.”

  Josh listened while they discussed San Martín, but part of him seethed with fury that his father’s wrath could follow him halfway around the world and still cause him difficulty. The sea was the only place he could find total acceptance. He glanced at Timothy Paddington. Of the men in the room, he would have guessed Paddington to be the last to adhere to London society’s values. He’d been told Lord Paddington was an adventurer. He appeared younger than Josh, and his long slender form was dressed with a careful elegance. Josh knew both Paddington and Brenthaven had reputations as excellent shots as well as being expert in the art of swords.

  Timothy Paddington glanced at Josh, and their gazes clashed. Josh felt the hatred in cold blue eyes, and anger rose in him. He wanted to slap the arrogant face and challenge him, but he knew that would bring ruin on him and harm their cause as well.

  He gave his attention to Lord Brenthaven, who was turned to him. “I’ve been here over a year now. Timothy and John came about six months ago. We’ll give you names to remember, but you’re not to write anything down. Commit them to memory and don’t trust anyone unless you’re absolutely certain about him.”

  Josh caught Lord Paddington watching him again, and arching an eyebrow with a sardonic grin. Josh returned his attention to Lord Brenthaven. “Yes, sir.” He listened carefully while they went over the names of local people whose sympathies lay with the patriots’ cause. He learned of known enemies, of spies for both sides.

  Lord Brenthaven stood up. “Enough of this. I’d like tea, but we’ll have brandy instead. Your head should be swimming with facts by now.”

  Josh laughed and stretched out his legs. “Aye, that it is. I have to get cannon unloaded and moved to the mountains.”

  “We’ll provide help when you need it. One man you should contact is Pedro Méndez.” Lord Brenthaven moved to a table to pour brandy into glasses, and the others stood up to join him. As they stood by the window drinking the brandy, Lord Paddington moved to stand by Josh.

  “I hear you’re wed now.”

  “Yes. Word travels fast.”

  “A farmgirl, isn’t she?”

  Josh smiled, refusing to let Timothy Paddington stir any visible ire. “From Wiltshire. Miss Lianna Melton.”

  “How nice for you. Now you’ll have a home when you go back to England.”

  Lord Brenthaven stepped between them. “I want you to see the courtyard. The flowers here are breathtaking, although I’d give a great deal for some nice English roses.”

  Josh chuckled. “This is a paradise of flowers and color.”

  “I want you to meet Celeste. She’ll call on your wife soon. We’re fortunate men to have women who’ll travel into danger at our sides.”

  “Yes, sir,” Josh said flatly as they entered the courtyard.

  An hour later, he told them good-bye. “I want to talk to Pedro Méndez before I ride for our estancia. Good day, gentlemen.”

  The three men told him good-bye and sat in silence as the door closed behind him. Lord Brenthaven turned to Timothy. “Keep your damned opinions of the man to yourself, Paddington! We have to pull together here if we’re to succeed.”

  “It grates on my nerves to know I’m trusting my life to a rogue!”

  “You won’t have a life if you keep taunting him! The man’s a deadly shot.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Timothy said with a smile as he stood up. “I must go home. I hope he doesn’t betray us all.”

  “We have to trust each other,” Lord Brenthaven said solemnly. “I know about his past, and as far as I can learn, he’s trustworthy. His conflict lies with the Duke of Cathmoor and no one else.”

  “He’s a damned pirate! What kind of honor does a ruffian have?”

  “We agreed to welcome his help,” John Bannister said.

  “I intend to have him watched closely.”

  Lord Brenthaven shrugged. “If you want, but I trust him. Marcheno’s cousin in Spain killed Raven’s brother Phillip. He has an old quarrel with the Marcheno family and that’s the reason he’s here. That and the fact that he wants to help liberate the Chileans for self-rule.”

  “Bah! A pirate—he wants something for his own use, and I intend to find out what.”

  “We’ve a good group of men here. Don’t cause dissension and slow us down,” Lord Brenthaven urged.

  “I won’t. I just want to eliminate Joshua Raven,” Timothy said. “Well, until we meet Wednesday night, good day, gentlemen.”

  He turned and swept out of the room, mounting his horse to ride away, his eyes soon spotting the figure in the distance ahead. He tightened his hands into fists and shook his head.

  For the next few days Madryn and Teresa cut and sewed while Lianna stood through long fittings. Without Josh, the house seemed empty and lonely. Lianna tried to pass the time as she had on board the frigate, by painting. One afternoon as Madryn stitched, Lianna sat down nearby to sketch, reproducing on paper a likeness with flowing black hair and wide-set black eyes. Finally Lianna laid down her brush.

  “Madryn, it’s time to stop for today. Want to see your picture?”

  Madryn folded the material and came to look at the drawing. She laughed. “It is truly me! I like it.”

  “Good. I’ll work on it tomorrow. There’s still a lot to do. I’m just getting started.” She glanced up to see Juanita cross the patio.

  Lianna frowned. While her conversation with Madryn was inconsequential, it wore on Lianna’s nerves to know that she was continually watched.

  Lianna and Madryn began to have two sessions daily, one for the sewing and the next hour with Madryn posing while Lianna sketched. Within a short time a close friendship began to develop between them.

  One afternoon after Madryn had gone, Lianna continued to paint. The only sounds on the patio were the gurgle and splash of water in the fountain and the soft scrape of Lianna’s brush on the canvas. A shadow fell across the palette. Lianna glanced up and her heart skipped. Josh, staring at h
er sketch, stood directly behind her. He was dressed in dusty leather breeches and wore a brown coat over his shirt; a stubble of whiskers covered his chin. “Your sketch is charming. Madryn’s a beautiful girl.”

  “Thank you.” How good it was to have Josh home! To hear his voice again. “You’ve been gone a long time. Far longer than I expected from what you said.”

  “Put down the picture a moment and come with me.”

  Upstairs in his bedroom, Josh shut the door, pulling the heavy drapes. “Sit down, Lianna.”

  He crossed to step into her room and she heard her door close. When he returned, she looked at his furrowed brow, the unfamiliar lines that bracketed his mouth.

  “What’s happened? Are you having difficulty?” she asked.

  “More than I would have imagined possible.” He shed his coat and removed a dagger from a hidden inside pocket. “It’s not going well for the patriots. Santiago’s defenses are strong.” He tossed the dagger onto a desk and sat down to pull off his boots. “The Spanish have spies everywhere; they’re as abundant as fleas.” Green eyes raised and bore into her. “Be cautious in your conversation with Madryn. She could betray us so easily.”

  “I’ll be careful,” she answered, “but I feel Madryn can be trusted. She’s unhappy with the Spanish royalty.”

  “Has she admitted that?”

  “No, but it isn’t difficult to guess.”

  “Still, be wary,” he instructed.

  “Why did you ask me upstairs?” she asked abruptly.

  “I’ve been gone six days now. If we were in love, what would be the first thing I’d do when I returned?”

  She blushed, momentarily disconcerted. “One of the servants, Juanita, follows and watches me,” she blurted.