by Merry Farmer
“Calliope, wait!”
Ha! As if she would. Calliope flew along the winding trail leading back to Belle Mer. At one point where the path curved around a small marsh, the mud sucked at one of her unlaced boots and she nearly tripped over as her foot slid out.
Damn and blast. Glancing behind her, she couldn’t see if Captain Townsend was following. The vegetation was too thick. She imagined he might pause to pull on his own shirt and boots before giving chase. Then again, perhaps he’d change his mind and wouldn’t bother coming after her. Which would be a relief. She was still far too mortified to speak with him.
Putting down her satchel, she perched upon a mossy, moldering log at the edge of the marsh and took a moment to slide her boot on and tie the laces. Knowing her luck, she’d fall over and break her neck if she didn’t. Not only was the path uneven, there were a lot of exposed tree roots and trailing vines in this particular area just waiting to trip her up again.
“Calliope!”
She jumped like a startled rabbit. And then all at once, there was a loud crack, the log disintegrated, and then she was tumbling backwards into the murky, brackish water behind her.
“Calliope!” Jonathon cried again. Alarm as sharp as shrapnel spiked through him as Calliope tumbled into the marsh with a loud splash. “I’m coming.”
He picked up his pace and sprinted down the trail. The marsh wasn’t deep by any means, but the mud below the water tended to be the thick, sucking kind, rather like the mudflats of a mangrove swamp. One could get stuck quite easily.
And if Calliope had bumped her head on the way down and got knocked out… the water might be shallow, but one could drown in only several inches of water if lying face down.
“Sweet Jesus, Calliope.” Jonathon halted at the marsh’s edge. “Are you all right?”
She was sitting upright, supporting her weight on her extended arms with her pretty arse submerged in the sludge, only a few feet from the slippery bank. Her bonnet had come off and some sort of slimy green weed clung to her bedraggled copper curls. “Well, relatively all right,” she said. “All things considered. Nothing’s really bruised except my pride. Oh, and I think my right ankle’s stuck. I can’t seem to move it.”
“I’ll help you out.” Jonathon stepped over the splintered log and waded carefully into the quagmire. As he’d suspected, it wasn’t deep, but the mud pulled at his booted ankles and he began to sink a little further. Leaning forward as far as he dared, he offered his hand and Calliope gripped it firmly. Half a second too late, he registered a mutinous gleam in her big blue eyes. And then she gave a short, sharp tug.
What the deuce? Jonathon immediately overbalanced and toppled straight into the marsh, landing right on top of Calliope. One of his legs was wedged between hers and his arms bracketed her shoulders. Beneath him, Calliope’s body shook with mirth.
“Why you little minx.” Jonathon pushed himself back to stare down at her. Astonishment, irritation, and a good dose of admiration blazed inside him.
Her gaze danced with unabashed glee. “It’s not as though you don’t deserve it, Jonathon Townsend,” she said, once her fit of wicked giggles had subsided. “Considering all the times you’ve taunted me for your own amusement. In fact, I think you also deserve this.”
Quicker than a lightning flash, Calliope’s arm came up and she deposited a great handful of mud right on top of his head with a resounding splat.
This time, Jonathon couldn’t contain his own laughter. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, wiping a trickle of mud from his brow. “But do you know what you deserve, Lady Calliope Banks?”
His gaze locked with hers and Calliope’s breath hitched. Her pupils dilated and her tongue darted out to moisten her petal-pink bottom lip. “No,” she whispered. “Why don’t you show me, Captain?”
“With relish.” His grubby hand rose and gently cradled her delicate jaw. And then he did what he’d been fantasizing about doing for days and days. Two weeks in fact.
His mouth claimed hers in a deep, deliberately languorous, thoroughly delicious kiss. Calliope yielded to the press of his thumb on her chin, opening on a sigh of welcome. His tongue boldly explored and tasted every inch of that warm, sweet cavern and when her tongue caressed him back, he couldn’t suppress a low groan. Desire flared and lit every nerve ending. Heated his blood.
He skated his hand down her shoulder and found one full breast. Covered it. Gently squeezed it, testing its shape, its plumpness. She arched and moaned, pushing herself into his palm and it wasn’t long before his manhood was straining against the fall of his breeches. He gently rocked his hips, pressing himself against her sex so she could feel how much he wanted her, his sweet, precious, passionate Calliope.
If they were anywhere but a filthy swamp, he’d lay her bare and show her the pleasures of lovemaking. For hours and hours—
Calliope stiffened and gasped.
Jonathon immediately drew back, concern coursing through his veins. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? If I’ve gone too far. If I’ve shocked you—”
“No, no, it’s not that.” She twisted to the side a little, resting her weight on one arm. “It’s just… Something hard is poking into me.”
He couldn’t contain a chuckle. “I think that might be me.”
But she shook her head. “No. Into my hip. Just wait a moment.” Below the surface of the murky water, Jonathon could see she was tugging at something buried in the mud. And then she gave one more yank and the swamp released the offending object from its grasp.
“Oh my, God.” Calliope held aloft something hard and long and bony with a hooked end. Although it was encased in a thick coating of sludge, even Jonathon could see what it was.
“It looks like a dodo beak,” he said, his voiced laced with awe.
“Yes.” Calliope’s gaze connected with his. “I think it is too.” She sat up straighter and pushed a slime-streaked curl away from her flushed cheek. “Of course, we’ll have to clean it up and Uncle Theo will have to examine it. But yes.” Her eyes glowed with excitement. “I have a good deal of confidence that this might be a moment to declare, eureka.”
Chapter 11
Calliope couldn’t contain her excitement. Not bothering to change out of her soiled clothes, she burst into Belle Mer’s library and presented the fossilized beak to her incredulous uncle. After he placed it carefully on the blotter of Captain Townsend’s desk, she waited with bated breath as he gently cleaned it off with a soft cloth and fresh water. Then after a close inspection, he also declared eureka.
There were tears of joy in Calliope’s eyes as she threw her arms around Uncle Theo’s neck and hugged him tightly. Nelson jigged up and down on his perch calling, “Eureka! Eureka!” and when she glanced over her uncle’s shoulder to where a disheveled and filthy Captain Townsend stood by the open French doors, he was openly smiling at her, his deep blue eyes shining with the warmth of a cloudless summer sky and maybe a tear or two as well.
Mr. Lucas even looked excited for once.
Needless to say, Uncle Theo, Mr. Lucas and Belle Mer’s small team of searchers descended on the marsh, and by evening, a few more dodo bones were recovered: a skull, a thigh bone, and a partial fossil of a foot.
Captain Townsend—or Jonathon as Calliope had begun to think of him after their heated bout of kissing in the dodo marsh—retrieved several bottles of French champagne from Belle Mer’s wine cellar to celebrate the momentous occasion.
Hours later when they were all gathered in the drawing room before dinner, Jonathon made a toast. “To you, Dr. Bell, Mr. Lucas, and of course, the redoubtable Lady Calliope, I offer you my heartfelt congratulations at making such a wonderful discovery.” His eyes glowing with admiration, he raised his champagne flute. “The history books will forever show that you—all of you,” his gaze caught Calliope’s, “were the ones to definitively prove the dodo existed. And I salute you.”
A flush of pleasure washed over Calliope as she tilted her head in acknowledgement then
sipped her champagne. The bubbles dancing on her tongue mirrored the capering of her heart. She couldn’t wait until she could be alone with Jonathon after dinner. After their kiss in the marsh this morning, there was no doubt in her mind that he truly wanted her. And dare she hope it, care for her too? But first she needed to hear that he wasn’t jesting when he’d hinted he wished to return to England and marry. And she also wanted to tell him she would wait for him, no matter how long it took for him to catch Michael Flint.
Because she loved him.
She couldn’t deny this vibrant feeling fizzing around inside her, just waiting to burst forth, any longer. Not only that, she knew that at long last, she was brave enough to say the words, ‘I love you’.
Dinner was well underway—the cook had created a veritable feast fit for Prinny himself—when Belle Mer’s butler approached Jonathon with a note upon a silver salver and an apologetic expression on his face. “Please forgive the interruption, Captain Townsend, but this message is from Mr. Keats. Apparently, the matter’s quite urgent.”
Mr. Keats, the Andromeda’s first mate. Calliope put down her fork and knife and watched anxiously as Jonathon cracked open the wax seal on the parchment and scanned its contents. His brows descended into a frown. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut dinner short, my friends,” he said with a deep sigh. His gaze sought Calliope’s. “I have business down at the docks that can’t wait.”
“It sounds serious,” she said, unable to disguise the worried note in her voice.
“Keats believes Dupont, the French merchant who might have some intelligence on Flint, will be in Mahébourg tonight. If there’s any chance I can convince him to become an informant and give up Flint’s hideaway, I must take it.”
“Of course, you must,” declared Uncle Theo. “Don’t worry about us, Captain. Godspeed and good luck to you.”
Jonathon rose and again caught Calliope’s eye. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Take care, Captain,” she said. She didn’t care if Uncle Theo or Mr. Lucas noticed how heartfelt her words were.
His mouth curved into one of the knowing, lop-sided smiles that never failed to make her blush or her pulse flutter. “Always,” he said, and then he was gone.
Calliope stayed awake for as long as she could, waiting for Jonathon to return to Belle Mer. But when the longcase clock in the library struck midnight, and her eyelids felt like they were weighted with lead, she at last conceded defeat and retired to her bedchamber. She trusted Jonathon would be all right. He’d been a naval officer for years. As a privateer, he probably faced even greater danger on a regular basis. He would know how to handle himself and hold his ground in difficult situations. She would need to grow accustomed to this gnawing feeling of worry and accept there was nothing she could do to help Jonathon except to pray for his safety.
However, when Calliope awoke the next morning, it was to discover her visibly distressed lady’s maid pacing about her room.
“Didi?” Calliope pushed herself up against the pillows and frowned in confusion. “What is it?”
“My lady...” The maid was wringing her hands at her waist. Beneath her white cotton cap, her brow was furrowed, and her bottom lip trembled. “I am so sorry…”
Panic sluiced over Calliope like a bucket of cold water. “What is it?” she repeated. What’s wrong?” She slipped from her bed and crossed the floor to grasp Didi’s hands. “Is Captain Townsend all right? My uncle? Has someone been hurt?”
Oh God, if something terrible has befallen Jonathon after all… Or if Uncle Theo has taken sick…
But Didi was shaking her head. “Non, non, my lady. No one is hurt. Your uncle has just rung for tea. And Captain Townsend is très bien too. I served him coffee on the veranda this morning before he went to the stables. I believe he’s gone riding.”
The utter feeling of relief washing through Calliope made her knees wobble like they were made of blancmange. “Then… then what’s the matter, Didi? You can tell me.”
Tears brimmed in the maid’s large brown eyes. “I do not know… I do not know how it’s possible, my lady. But your beautiful jewels… your sapphires and diamonds… All of them are gone.”
“Gone?”
“Oui, my lady. Gone. Taken from their box. See…” She rushed over to the dressing table on the other side of the room and flipped it open. The bed of dark blue satin was bare. “Gone. Disappeared. I do not know how it happened.”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Fear pricked its way along Calliope’s skin. Turned her blood to an ice-cold slurry. She made herself swallow. Take a deep breath. Her mother’s precious necklace and earrings couldn’t have been stolen. Could they?
Didi began to twist her hands again. A tear slipped down her smooth as caramel cheek. “It was not me, my lady. I did not take them. I promise you, I would never, ever steal…”
Calliope tried to ignore the panic churning about in her belly and attempted a reassuring smile. “Do not worry, Didi. I trust you.” She crossed to the dressing table and picked up the slim satinwood jewelry box with shaking fingers. Made herself think back to last night…
She’d worn her jewels at dinner because they went well with her pale blue silk gown. And of course she wanted to look as attractive as she could for Jonathon. When dinner had concluded, she’d returned to her room and Didi had helped her to undress. And Calliope had carefully placed each piece of jewelry back in its case. She’d closed the lid, latched it, but hadn’t locked it. And then she’d donned her nightgown, slipped on a shawl and slippers, and had gone back to the library to wait for Jonathon’s return.
She hadn’t noticed anything untoward when she’d eventually retired to her room shortly after midnight. She’d been so exhausted after all the excitement of the day, nothing had disturbed her sleep. She lifted her gaze to the quivering maid.
“Did you notice anything odd at all last night, Didi? Anything out of place in my room? Or anyone that shouldn’t be up here, lurking about? Whatever the hour?”
The maid shook her head. “Non, my lady. After you changed into your night things and dismissed me, I retired to the servants’ quarters. The only person I passed along the way was Monsieur Lucas.”
Barnaby Lucas. Calliope frowned. She recalled their dance at Le Réduit and how his gaze kept straying to her décolletage and how peculiar she’d thought his behavior at the time. But what if wasn’t her cleavage he’d been interested in?
But why would Mr. Lucas steal her mother’s jewelry? They’d been traveling together for months. He’d been working for Uncle Theo for years. And if he had taken the jewels, why now? To what end?
Calliope shook her head in despair. It didn’t make sense. But she would question him, and she was certain Jonathon and Uncle Theo would assist questioning the rest of Belle Mer’s occupants too. But before she raised the alarm, she would get Didi to make a thorough search of her bedroom, just to make sure the jewels weren’t here.
“After you help me get dressed, I’d like you to—”
A sudden wild pounding on her bedchamber door made Calliope jump.
“Peewee. Peewee. Are you awake?”
Uncle Theo? Another burst of panic carried Calliope across the room in a heartbeat and she flung open the door.
Her uncle’s face was white as a sheet, but the crests of his weathered cheekbones were flagged with crimson. And it was then Calliope realized that he wasn’t terrified. He was angry. “What’s wrong?” she breathed, dread stealing the air from her lungs.
“The dodo bones. They’re gone along with all my money.” Uncle Theo’s voice shook with emotion. “And so is that turncoat, Barnaby Lucas.”
Jonathon confirmed Barnaby Lucas had indeed absconded from Belle Mer. Not only was his valise missing, it appeared that some time during the very early hours of the morning, the scoundrel had helped himself to a horse from Jonathon’s stables too.
“As soon as I set foot in the stable yard, the head groom reported a gelding and tack had been take
n,” said Jonathon grimly. Still dressed in his riding attire of buckskin breeches, Hessian boots and riding coat, he leaned against the edge of his desk in the library and crossed his arms. “And then we discovered a fresh set of hoof marks in the mud on the drive. I suspect the thieving dog is heading to Mahébourg.”
Uncle Theo slammed his fist on the side of one of the glass-fronted bookcases, making the panes rattle. “We must give chase.”
“I have several men already out on the road, Dr. Bell. And I will follow shortly. Unfortunately, I suspect a number of vessels have already sailed out of Grand Port Bay on this morning’s high tide. But I plan to question the harbor master. There should be a passenger manifest for each ship. If he’s on one, we’ll find him.”
Uncle Theo dragged a shaking hand down his face. “I still can’t believe Barnaby Lucas would do something like this. After all the support and guidance I’ve given him over the years. It’s unforgiveable.”
“Do you think he plans to return to England and somehow pass the discovery of the dodo bones off as his own?” asked Jonathon.
Uncle Theo shrugged. “I suppose so. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Although, he must be mad to think he can get away with stealing your jewels, Peewee. He must have taken them and my money in order to pay for his passage back home.”
Calliope agreed. “We should all go to Mahébourg,” she said. “I think it will be exceedingly difficult to sit about here waiting for Jon—I mean Captain Townsend—to return with further news.”
Jonathon gave her a single nod and considering look. “Very well, my lady,” he said. “I’ll send word to the stables to saddle two more horses. Do you think you can be ready in fifteen minutes?”
Calliope couldn’t suppress a blush. She was still in her night rail with only a shawl and slippers to protect her modesty. “I’ll be back in ten,” she called over her shoulder as she rushed to the library door. Somewhere in the bottom of her traveling trunk was a peacock blue riding habit. Didi would protest about its abysmal state, but what did creases matter when so much was at stake?
