Mishap Marriage. Helen DicksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
understand you have land and properties in Virginia. With all there is to do on the island, do you find the time to go there?’ Zack enquired, his long fingers toying with the stem of his wine glass.
‘I go whenever I am able, but on the whole, like my father before me, I employ reliable people to oversee and run things for me.’
‘Antony,’ Carmelita said from the opposite end of the table to her husband. ‘I’m sure Captain Fitzgerald doesn’t want to hear all this.’ She smiled at Zack. ‘I’m sorry, Captain Fitzgerald. My husband does tend to talk business all the time.’
‘Please don’t apologise. I’m overwhelmed by the abundance on such a small island.’ His eyes flicked to Shona and a slight smile curved his lips. ‘In fact, I find it so appealing that I am tempted to reside here myself.’
‘And you would be welcome to do so, Captain,’ Antony said. ‘If you can find the time before you leave, I would enjoy showing you the island.’
‘Thank you. I would like to take you up on that. Are you not troubled by buccaneers, Mr McKenzie? The number of outlaws and castaways infesting the Caribbean has increased considerably of late. I marvel that you have not been driven out.’
‘We should have been on several occasions had we not taken precautions against being caught off our guard.’
‘Such as?’
‘In several places along the shore, I have men living who would give me warning of the approach of any hostile body.’
‘And you can count on their loyalty?’
‘It is not a case of counting on their loyalty, but their greed. I pay each of them a wage for doing nothing, which of course would cease if I were driven out, and any of them who brings me a timely warning knows that he will receive enough money to keep him in idleness for years. Santamaria also has its own defence. As you will have seen for yourself, the leeward side of the island is sheltered from the full force of the trade winds, so that the waves of the Caribbean lap easily on the shore—unlike the rest of the island and the high cliffs, which have no defence against the wind-driven rollers of the Atlantic. I have men stationed to defend the island at all times. It’s a brave pirate who will attempt to sail his ship into the cove.’
The conversation was interrupted when a footman poured more wine. Zack looked across at the delectable Miss McKenzie still in conversation with John Filligrew, his head bent close to hers as he whispered some confidence in her ear. Zack experienced a flash of completely unfounded and unexpected emotion, a white-hot surge of jealousy unlike anything he’d ever felt for any lover he’d ever had. He wanted to rush over and pull the man away, to tell him he had no business leaning in so close, no right to get so near to her—this woman he had never met before today.
She was talkative and vivacious, with a lilting voice that was like music to his ears after six weeks at sea without female companionship. Her expression was endlessly fascinating as she smiled, frowned and wrinkled her slightly freckled nose and rolled her eyes. Looking up, she caught his eye and he had the odd feeling that she knew what he was thinking.
‘Have you always lived on the island, Miss McKenzie?’ he asked.
‘Yes, except for the time my father sent me to England to be educated.’
Zack looked at her, musing as he stared. He was wrong in his initial assumption. Despite being raised in this place, so far from the corrupting influences of civilisation, she had been exposed to them after all.
Shona noticed how incredibly light his eyes were in the flare of the candles. It was impossible not to respond to this man as his masculine magnetism dominated the scene. A curious sharp thrill ran through her as the force between them seemed to explode wordlessly. He watched her, his eyes alert above the faintly smiling mouth, and she promptly forgot John Filligrew.
Faceless numbers of suitors whom Shona had cast away loomed upwards before her consideration. Not one of them had stirred a spark in her blood, yet Captain Fitzgerald was able to make her heart beat with a sweet wildness that stirred her very soul. All the while his gaze was upon her she grew flustered and cast about her as she swallowed a glass of wine and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Captain Fitzgerald’s incendiary eyes scorched her over the flower arrangement.
Finally Antony slid his chair back. ‘I shall look forward to hearing more about Virginia, Captain Fitzgerald. May we at least have the pleasure of your company until you leave the island?’
‘Indeed you will.’
With the signal that the dinner was at an end, the ladies reconvened to the drawing room, where coffee was served, while the gentlemen remained to drink the port imported from Spain that had been Shona’s father’s drink of choice. In search of clearer air, her mood listless and dreamy, Shona went out on to the flower-laden terrace and walked along its length. The delicate tropical fragrances filled the warm air.
Glancing to the trees beyond the garden brought back memories of those distant days she would walk there with her father, when the trilling of birds filled the air and the soft flutter of moss dripping from the trees would brush against her face. She could even imagine the whiff of his spicy cologne and the smell of leather and horses on his clothes. However brief those recollections were, she was pierced by a longing so profound that it was all she could do not to cry out in anguish.
Now the evening was laden with the sound of chirping crickets, of blended voices drifting from the house. A languid breeze gently swayed the branches of the trees, rustling their leaves and sweeping the fragrance of sweet shrubs on to the terrace. Her mind occupied with her musings, she stared out across the shadow-mottled lawn and sighed. Suddenly a footfall sounded behind her. A dark shadow moved close to her and she was engulfed in a cloud of fragrant smoke. Her heart fluttered in her throat. ‘Oh,’ she uttered softly. ‘I thought I was alone.’
‘Your pardon, Miss McKenzie.’ The deep, rich voice of Captain Fitzgerald sounded concerned. ‘I did not mean to startle you. I was merely taking my pipe in the open air before I return to my ship—but be assured—to discourse with a beautiful woman on a moonlit night on a tropical isle is a pleasure beyond compare. Does the smoke bother you?’
Feeling her heartbeat quicken alarmingly, Shona was amazed by the effect his sudden presence was having on her pulse rate, but she was resolved not to let it show. She stared, trying to penetrate the dark shadows that hid his face. ‘Not at all. Enjoy your pipe at your leisure. I rather like the smell of tobacco. It brings back poignant memories of my father. He used to enjoy a pipe on occasion.’
‘A natural enough habit. They grow tobacco in Virginia. The Indians taught us how to smoke it.’
‘So I understand.’
‘If I am intruding, I will leave you.’
‘No,’ she said quickly, ‘please—you don’t have to go.’
He nodded. ‘Very well. I will stay.’
‘How long do you intend being on the island, Captain?’
Stepping out of the shadows, he looked at her through the wreath of smoke that curled from his pipe. ‘One week at the most.’ His hand cradling the bowl of his pipe came out and in a brief span the long stem swept the moonlight to encompass the rolling hills beyond the trees. ‘And then I must leave all this and return to London.’
Tilting her head on one side, she met his eyes. ‘You sound regretful. But you will return, will you not?’
‘At some point. Would you care to talk?’ he invited, propping his shoulder against the wall of the house and holding her gaze with his own.
Shona leaned against the trellising. ‘About what, Captain?’
The answer was slow in coming. ‘Anything.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Whatever would please you. Why don’t you begin by telling me something about this charming island you call home? I know that originally the Spanish claimed it for the Spanish crown and christened it Santamaria.’