Oh, when he was awake and stood up, he was aferocious man, and how those blue eyes of his had raked her. Heatflooded her with his awareness of her attire. She shook her head.Not much to do about the thin chemise that stuck to her skin. If hecouldn’t stomach the impropriety, then she should have let him godown with the ship.
Would he hurt her? How he had fought Damianowith his powerful fists. Instinct told her he would not hurther.
Why did she let him continue to let himbelieve she was a thief? The overwhelming culpability of whathappened to Molly she had not been able to come to terms with yet.Like a bird grounded with a broken wing, guilt kept her aprisoner.
“I’m so sorry, Molly.”
There was no echo, nor reverberation. Ifanything, the firmament consumed her words and her infinite,hopeless apology. But not her memories. She would never be rid ofthose.
And then to, days of secrets, hiding stillanother truth weighed on her shoulders with backbreaking force. Herthroat constricted. Best to keep her identity as a ship captain’sdaughter. Too many questions would follow and she had no means ofanswering them.
Apart from her musings of Lord Nicholas, herspirits soared as food was in abundance. Their newly acquired dietwould restore their health from the deprivations they had sufferedaboard theSantanas. Fresh fruit hung heavily from the treesand her arms ached with the weight of mangoes, bananas and coconutsshe had collected. She passed a herd of wild pigs, grazing on theedge of the beach, and then waded into the sea to cool her skin.Colorful fish darted around her knees, so plentiful and tame, andif her arms weren’t full for fruit, she could pick them up.
Despite being God knew where, she took adeep breath of satisfaction. The wind was freshening and wavedthrough the palms lining the deserted pink sand beach on which shefollowed her solitary footsteps. A sea hawk with its wings spreadwide, floated motionless upon the updrafts issued from the land,and in the distance, the frothy creaming of waves broke upon anouter reef.
Her father had described this quarter of theearth, but his descriptions were nothing in compare to the soft,compelling beauty of these seas, and the endlessly changing shadesof turquoise, greens and blues. The scenery induced her soul tocomplacency for it seemed incredible that here nature could proveto be an adversary…much like Lord Rutland.
She smiled. No matter his prevailing pride,she was blessed with such an agreeable climate and situation, andshe would not be alone. This land with its bountiful fruits was farsuperior to being a prisoner on a ship and to be sold as a sexslave to a sadistic man.
Lord Rutland was not where she had left him.She followed a muttered curse and pushed through a canopy of palms.He stooped over a pile of driftwood, spinning a crude arrangementof twine procured from a vine, and a stick, reminiscent ofCro-Magnon man. At least he took her advice and moved the unlikelyinferno away from the sea and potential hostile intruders. “How isthe fire-starting?”
He threw down his contraption and stared atthe bounty in her arms. “Food. I’m starved.”
Cro-Magnon. She clutched the fruit to herbreast. “I thought you said food was not a requirement.” She heldup a mango, dangling it back and forth. He cut the distance betweenthem with long purposeful strides, snatching the ripened fruit fromher hands. Lord Rutland’s predictability was a supreme art. “Youmay want to peel it first,” she suggested.
He ripped open the peel and sank his teethinto the fruit. “I know what a mango is, they are grown in ourconservatory at Belvoir Castle.” Juices flowed down his beardedchin. He was barefoot, his stockings and boots propped upside downon a log to dry. His shirt sleeves were rolled up over his elbowsand his breeches were torn and filthy, his appearance contradictoryto the well-spoken aristocrat.
“We should demonstrate some refinement andchew our food before we swallow. After surviving infiniteprobabilities, I’d hate to see you choke to death.” She satcross-legged in the velvety sand, and peeled a banana, popped apiece in her mouth, savoring the sweetness. She had eaten smallamounts during the day, careful not to overdo.
“Not when you haven’t had anything to crowabout in your stomach for a month.” He sucked the pit, threw itaside, grabbed a bunch of bananas and devoured the lot of them.
She wagged a finger at him. “It is dangerousto stuff yourself. Be mindful that people who have sufferedstarvation, follow their instincts to consume a lot of food, andthen die.”
He grabbed a coconut and started smashing iton the limestone rock. “I waited all day for you to return withfood.”
“Surely you jest.”
“It is not in my nature to joke about foodwhen I’m starving.”
She gave a weary sigh. “This morning youbrushed away my ideas of procuring food and water, claiming a firewas more important.”
He pounded the coconut with renewed vigor.“When I went hunting at home, I crafted fires easily enough.Without a tinderbox, I’m having the toughest time getting onestarted.”
He hated being useless. Alexandra was lessforgiving. “I’ll start a fire if it makes you happy.”
“Be my guest. He bowed with the scornfulelegance of a haughty aristocrat and waved his hand toward the pileof wood.
So, it would be a contest of wills.Alexandra stood, dusting sand off her bottom and gathered a drycoconut husk he’d chipped off. She stared at him, her fingersdeftly separating the hairs, but the intensity of his gaze suckedthe air out of her lungs. She turned her back to him and knelt byhis stack of wood. With shaking hands, she sculpted a dome offibers.
From inside her bodice, she unpinned herfather’s spectacles. Her heart squeezed as she smoothed her fingersover the polished glass, thanking providence for this useful partthat belonged to Samuel. She squinted to find the sun behind her,and then turned, focusing the rays through a lens, and onto thecoconut strands. Smoke curled. Sparks flared. She blew into thehusk fibers, adding twigs, then breaking up branches until a firecommenced, and then glanced over her shoulder for his Lordship’sapproval. The look of incredulity on his face was priceless.
“That is unfair, Miss Elwins.”
His tone was irascible.
“You let me waste an entire day”
“You needed a little humbling, LordRutland.” She turned back to the fire. “That knock on your head hasleft you overbearing.”
