Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“O! how short a time does it take to put an end to a woman’s liberty!”
— FANNY BURNEY, ENGLISH NOVELIST, EARLY JOURNEYS AND LETTERS OF FANNY BURNEY
It took Sara only two hours of wandering the beaches of Atlantis Island to grudgingly admit that Gideon’s love of the place was justified. With every step she took, her half-boots sank into sands white and fine as marble dust. The air smelled fragrant and rich.
And the colors! Vivid pinks and brilliant yellows dotted the forest of willows and aging oaks.
Barnaby had explained to her that although the island was in the tropics, the south trade winds and cold currents of the North Atlantic kept the temperature moderate, thus enabling orange and lemon groves to thrive alongside date palms and bamboo.
According to Barnaby, winters were nearly non-existent and the summers mild.
That explained the lush flora, but what about the varied fauna?
So far, she’d seen wild goats and rabbits roaming the higher promontories.
Huge sea turtles waddled along the shores, and wherever she walked, she startled grouse and pheasants out of the brush and into the air.
Were they all native to the island or brought here long ago by other hopeful colonists?
What had made this bit of the world a paradise from end to end?
Well, there was the other part of the island—the dry, brown expanse they’d seen when they’d first approached.
Barnaby had explained it was the result of a strange weather phenomenon.
The same trade winds that made the island mild in climate also dried out the side of the island they blew constantly over.
Since the unattractive side faced the trade route, it wasn’t surprising no one had bothered to settle there.
When ships had been blown off course far enough to find Atlantis, they’d eyed it as an unlikely source of provisions and had sailed on by.
It was like some ancient Garden of Eden hidden away where no one could find it. No one but Gideon, that is. Trust him to be the one to stumble across it.
She glanced furtively down the beach to where he stood, wearing only his buff trousers and his belt with the saber slung from it.
Stretching his arms up, he caught hold of a rounded cluster of yellow fruit hanging from what appeared to be an odd sort of palm tree with flat, waxy green leaves.
A banana tree, they called it. She watched as he drew out his saber, then used it to sever the cluster from the tree in one lethal swipe.
As he twisted at the waist to lay the cut fruit in a cart already heaped high with the strange yellow crescents, his muscles flexed and worked, a fine sheen of sweat glistening off the black hair of his chest. At just that moment, he glanced her way, and his gaze caught hers.
For a moment his eyes were rich and unfathomable, and she felt the force of his gaze like a sensuous whisper across her brow …
her cheeks … her lips. A sudden, all too painfully familiar heat flashed over her, flaming into a blush.
Mortified to be caught staring, she pivoted away, but not before glimpsing his slow, knowing grin.
Good heavens, the man was a danger to all womankind! She, of all people, should be immune, having known her share of criminals in the course of her reform work. Yet she was far from it.
Of all the people on God’s green earth, why must it be a notorious pirate captain who made her blush and go weak in the knees like some starry-eyed girl at her coming out?
She’d always been too sensible for such infatuations, with the exception of Colonel Taylor, and even with him she hadn’t lost all common sense the way she had with Gideon.
Although she hurried down the beach away from him, she couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading from the most intimate portions of her body.
Oh, yes, Gideon belonged in this Garden of Eden.
He was as temptingly made as the first Adam must have been.
In fact, she wondered if God hadn’t put just a jot too much effort into Gideon.
Although he should have given the man something more useful than good looks and a treacherous charm. Humility, for example. She tried to imagine a humble Gideon, but it was impossible. Such a creature would be beyond even the Almighty’s powers of imagination.
Spotting Louisa, who sat on a fallen log a few feet from where the beach ended and the brush began, Sara hurried to her friend’s side.
“What are you smiling about?” Louisa grumbled. “Don’t tell me, you’re already being seduced into liking this island.”
“Seduced” was a good word for it. “You must admit it’s not what you expected.”
“It’s exactly what I expected. Have you seen those huts?
They’re the crudest buildings imaginable!
No window shutters … plank floors … roofs of thatch.
The only thing in their favor is the featherbeds, which do look comfortable, I’ll admit.
But what else can you expect of pirates?
Of course they would pay attention to their beds.
That’s all they care about. Men! I swear, the communal kitchen that Silas has been using is as primitive as—”
“Silas? You seem to be on awfully familiar terms with Mr. Drummond all of a sudden.”
With a snort, Louisa ducked her head. “Not at all. Silas—I mean, Mr. Drummond—and I have just learned to tolerate each other’s company. He finally realized he needed my help, that’s all.”
Her help? Louisa’s “help” had consisted of taking over the poor man’s kitchen and ignoring every attempt he made to regain power.
If he’d learned to tolerate that, he was a better man than she’d thought.
“Well, I must admit the meals have been quite edible since you offered your ‘help.’ And I’m sure that with a little work, we can make the huts presentable as well. ”
“That’s the only reason they brought us here, you know. To clean and cook and sew for them.”
“Oh, no, they want much more than that,” Sara said acidly, remembering Gideon’s knowing seductive look.
Louisa stiffened. “You’re right, of course. They want our bodies, too. And I’ll be damned if I let any of them have mine. They’ll have to tie me down first.”
“Don’t say that too loudly. You might give them ideas.” Sara glanced around at the women who’d already chosen mates. “Unfortunately, you and I may be outnumbered in our desire to remain unmarried.”
Louisa shot her a long glance. “You’ve chosen a husband, too, remember?”
With a groan, Sara cursed her slip of the tongue.
“Or have you already changed your mind and decided to leave Petey to Ann, after all?”
A surge of guilt hit Sara all at once. Poor Ann.
“Where is she, anyway?” Sara asked, ignoring Louisa’s question as she scanned the clusters of men and women around them.
She’d meant to look for the young woman earlier, to see if she couldn’t patch things up between them, but in exploring the island she’d forgotten her good intentions.
Louisa jerked her head toward the nearby stream. “I saw her wander up there a while ago. I think she wanted to be alone.”
“Oh, of course.” Sara cast a concerned glance up the stream, and felt a little shiver of worry when she didn’t see the Welshwoman. “Perhaps I’ll just go look for her. She shouldn’t wander so far away from everyone when the island is still unfamiliar. She might get hurt.”
“Do as you wish. But if you don’t mind, I’m returning to the dirty hovel they call a kitchen.
We’ll be eating dinner soon. The pirates have killed the fatted calf in our honor—actually, a fatted wild pig—and if I leave the final cooking of it to Silas, he’ll torture it into the toughest, most inedible dish imaginable. ”
With that, the young woman strolled back in the direction they’d just come, leaving Sara to climb the slippery banks of the stream alone.
The moment she began her ascent, she realized that her half-boots, adequate for treading the well-polished decks of the Satyr, weren’t at all useful for scrambling over slick rocks.
It took some work to keep her balance while holding her skirts above her ankles, and she was so intent upon not falling that she didn’t hear the soft voices of a young couple talking in the woods until she was nearly upon them.
Then she halted, straining to hear more. In moments, she picked out Ann’s dulcet voice, answered by a deeper male one. Good heavens, was one of the men even now taking advantage of Ann’s wounded heart? Sara wouldn’t stand for that. Ann had been through enough already.
Pushing determinedly through the thick growth along the edge of the stream, she stumbled suddenly into a clearing. The couple before her, locked in a passionate embrace, sprang apart at once. And to her surprise, Petey was the one holding Ann.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought … I was worried—” Sara turned, her face heating. “Never mind. I’ll just go back to the beach—”
“Wait!” Peter called out as she started off. She heard his boots crunching through the brush. “Please, Miss Willis. I can explain.”
Sara shook her head as she pushed doggedly on. “You don’t need to explain anything.” But by that time he’d reached her side and caught her by the arm, forcing her to halt.
“Listen, please.” When Sara gazed at him, he added, “I told Ann everythin’—about why I’m marryin’ you and who you are. I told her I work for your brother. I had to.”
“Please don’t blame him,” Ann burst out.
When Sara looked at the young woman, she was pained to see how red Ann’s eyes and nose were.
Ann went on haltingly. “I-I came up here to be alone … because … well …”