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The Pirate's Daughter. Helen DicksonЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Pirate's Daughter - Helen  Dickson


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almost tangible in his stillness. Already the impact of his charm was burrowing through her reserve.

      His immaculate outfit in black velvet and white silk shirt emphasised the shining blackness of his thick hair and tanned skin, and in his eyes, which held her gaze, the smouldering dark depths were seductive and enticing. There were tiny lines around his eyes from squinting at the hot, tropical sun, which gave strength to his handsome face. She smiled at him with pure, unbridled happiness, but when she remembered the flirtatious mischief and his bold manner that had hung over their first encounter, a stinging heat crept over her flesh.

      ‘You are already acquainted with my cousin, Captain Marston,’ John said in a jovial voice. ‘I have not thanked you for saving her from a drenching on her arrival to Barbados.’

      ‘I did little enough. I was glad to be of service.’ Taking Cassandra’s hand, Stuart bowed casually, raising it and brushing her fingers lightly with his lips, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment, and he found the calm boldness with which she was gazing at him encouraging and far from displeasing. His lips curved, assured in the knowledge that his smile had melted many a woman’s heart. ‘Please say you are happy to see me again?’ he asked softly.

      ‘I think you already know my answer to that, Captain Marston.’ Cassandra had not meant to sound so forward, but the words seemed to slip from her lips. It took a conscious effort for her to draw her hand away. He was exactly as she remembered, vital and exciting, with a deep, vibrant note to his voice, his eyes as bold and black as any pirate’s. ‘You met my cousin in Bridgetown, I understand. I’m delighted you accepted his invitation to dine with us this evening.’

      ‘It’s not in my nature to turn down an opportunity to dine with such charming company. I had hoped to have the pleasure of meeting you again, Mistress Everson, before I leave for England—so I was more than happy to accept Sir John’s invitation to dine with you both. I must compliment you,’ he said, his gaze travelling slowly over her body from head to toe with bold appraisal, his eyes lingering overlong on the gentle swell of her breasts. ‘You look exquisite. The Caribbean obviously agrees with you.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She smiled. ‘I would be content to remain here indefinitely. I like it very much indeed—at least, what I’ve seen of it. The beauty of Barbados, which at first renewed my spirits after the long voyage out here, is growing stronger. I often go into Bridgetown and ride short distances with John, but I long to be able to see more of the island. Occasionally I visit the homes of other planters who live close by with Sir Charles and Lady Julia—but John does not allow me to venture far.’

      ‘And I should think not,’ John commented sharply, handing them both a goblet of wine. ‘It would not do for you to go wandering about by yourself. With a hundred and one fevers forever rampant in the slave quarters, you’d be sure to go down with something or other.’

      ‘There you are, you see, Captain Marston,’ Cassandra said laughingly. ‘That is what I am up against.’

      ‘Nevertheless, there is something in what your cousin says. To my cost I have already lost several members of my crew to one or another of the fevers that prevail in the tropics.’

      When his host went to speak to the serving woman Stuart drew closer to Cassandra. His expression changed. It was sombre, his eyes compelling, his voice low and serious. ‘How lovely you look. Never have four months seemed such an eternity. When I left Jamaica, for days the winds were against us. I feared I would never get here. I also feared the heat and the sun were beginning to affect me—that I had been staring at the stars too long, and was half afraid I had imagined our encounter on the beach that day.’

      Cassandra favoured him with a dimpled, teasing smile. ‘At least you didn’t suffer a lapse of memory and forget me altogether—although it does not mean I can forgive your forwardness on that occasion.’

      The Marston brow quirked in sardonic amusement. ‘I would not expect otherwise. You must allow me to redeem myself in your eyes.’ He looked neither chagrined nor apologetic. Instead he regarded her with an infuriating grin. ‘Are you surprised to see me?’

      ‘Of course. I’m extremely flattered that you came all the way from Bridgetown to see me.’

      ‘I said I would.’

      ‘I thought you’d forget, Captain Marston.’

      ‘Forget someone like you? Never. You made a deep impression on me.’

      Cassandra fully understood what he was saying. Her cheeks grew warm.

      ‘It is not so strange that two people should feel an instant attraction. When I want something, I’m a very persistent man.’ Stuart’s voice sounded like a caress, his eyes, after leisurely lingering on her parted lips, meeting hers. They glowed, telling him that she was warmed from within by his words, and he found himself wanting to draw her to him and kiss the ripeness of her full, soft mouth, to sweep her away and imprint himself on her with a fierceness which was hard to quell.

      Fully aware of the effect he was having over her and totally without contrition, Stuart smiled, a smile that softened his features and creased his eyes—and almost reduced Cassandra to near panic. No man had ever affected her like this, and he was right, she was attracted to him, unbelievably so.

      ‘I would be more than happy to dispense with the formality of you calling me Captain Marston. My name is Stuart. Your cousin tells me you are called Cassandra. I may call you Cassandra?’

      It was a command rather than a request. ‘But—we hardly know each other.’

      ‘That is a matter soon remedied,’ he told her, with absolute confidence that he could.

      Cassandra felt a perverse desire to shatter a little of his arrogant self-assurance. ‘I’m afraid that’s impossible. You have to leave for England with the convoy, and I will not leave Barbados until John does.’

      His lips quirked in a smile. ‘You may find your cousin has other ideas.’ Before she had time to take him up on this, he asked, ‘Am I the only guest to dine with you this evening?’

      ‘There will be just the three of us. Sir Charles and Lady Julia are not at home this evening, and Rosa, my companion, is indisposed.’

      What Cassandra said was true. Rosa had retired to bed with a headache during the afternoon—in fact, she had looked most unwell. Cassandra was concerned about her, and she was relieved that Julia had promised to send for the physician to take a look at her if she got no better. She looked towards the table where John was pouring more wine into his goblet. ‘Please take a seat,’ she said to their guest. ‘The food is ready.’

      Over a meal served by Elmina and consisting of aromatic and delicious dishes of fish and vegetables, they talked of inconsequential things. The candles shone with a sharp brilliance, the flames fluttering and dancing in the gentle draught. The lattice shutters had been pulled open to admit the perfumed smell of the garden, the warmth of the night air, and the occasional breath of a chill wind blowing overland from the sea. Now and then the call of a night bird pierced the air, and the rustle of palm fronds could be heard brushing against the walls of the bungalow.

      As the meal progressed and the evening wore on, Cassandra saw all the signs in John’s flushed features, and his voice raised louder than usual, that he had imbibed too much wine, which he was in the habit of doing, whereas Captain Marston looked cool and composed, unaffected by the liquor. Throughout the meal he appeared to drink, but in fact he imbibed far less than John. Unfortunately, the mellow influence of the wine released John’s inhibitions and loosened his tongue.

      ‘Fond as I am of my dear cousin, Captain Marston,’ he laughed when Cassandra gently and tactfully suggested that he might have drunk enough wine when he was about to replenish his empty goblet, ‘she is a determined and wilful creature and used to having her own way in most things. The sooner she returns to England and acquires herself a husband the better it will be for my peace of mind, I don’t mind telling you—although marriage to her should be approached with a good deal of caution.’

      Cassandra gave him an annoying


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