Now ’twas Blake’s turn to frown. “You quote the Bible to a pirate?” He started forward again.
“Then you know the Word of God.”
A lizard skittered across the trail and disappeared into a shrub. “My mother read it to me when I was a child. As you can see, it made little impact.”
“Obviously.”
They walked in silence for several minutes, listening to the birdsong and buzz of insects. Along with Bandit’s occasional babbling above them as the monkey followed them through the canopy. Though Blake preferred the sea, there was something magnificent about life that teemed thick in the jungle.
“Whatwillmake an impact on you, then, Captain?” she asked.
A pungent question, indeed. One he did not wish to answer at the moment, for it had much to do with the lady herself.
Soon, they emerged into a large clearing full of rows and rows of all manner of crops. If he admitted it, he enjoyed the way Emeline’s eyes widened at the sight.
“What is all this?”
“I cleared the land for the Caribs who live here. They were already good at growing some crops, but I introduced others. Over there,”—he pointed to their left—“they grow yams and peppers. Then here, you see the lines of corn. Toward the jungle to the south,”—he gestured to the right—“are bananas and Cassava. On the other side of the island, we planted coffee and sugar cane.”
Fisting his hands on his hips, he gazed over the vast farmland, still amazed at what he had accomplished. Several natives worked among the rows, tending the plants, while others loaded wagons with fresh produce. Surely the lady would find such a large farm impressive.
“They are your slaves?” she finally asked, her tone disapproving.
He frowned. Not the reaction he’d hoped for. “Nay, they are welcome to eat whatever they grow as long as they provide for me and my crew when we are here and my staff when we are at sea. You see, we are self-sufficient. With fish and wild boar aplenty, we have all we need to survive.”
Her eyes swept to his, nary a hint of the amazement and admiration he expected to see within them.
“Is that what you seek most? A kingdom of your own?”
“Who wouldn’t want that?” He clutched the lion emblem around his neck, frustration bubbling in his gut. “Surely you find something here worthy of your approval?”
Wind tore over them, fluttering her loose curls behind her. “What does my opinion matter? You forget I am your prisoner.”
Blake ground his teeth. “And yet you have your freedom to roam as you please.”
“It is still a cage, is it not?”
The ungrateful wench! “If that is what you prefer, it can be arranged.”
There it was. The first speck of fear crossed her eyes. The first speck of the respect he deserved. Though for some reason, he instantly regretted it.
As if angry at his censure of the lady, Bandit leapt from a branch onto his shoulder and scolded him. Unfortunately, Blake understood the monkey’s harsh castigation well enough. Shoving him from his shoulder, he hoped he would leave, but the treasonous beast vaulted into Emeline’s arms.
Drawing the monkey close, she lowered her gaze. “I am appreciative of the comforts you have provided, Captain.”
He wanted to add,as you should be, but thought better of it. Instead, he led her past the fields and down another trail, past the Carib village, the sugar and gristmills, and storage barns. All of which engendered not a speck of her admiration.
In fact, her jovial mood from only moments ago grew dour, and he longed for their joyful banter to return.
He plucked Bandit from her arms. “I trust this may quite astound you.” As it had astounded Blake when he’d first discovered this particular power of the Ring. “Bandit,” he spoke with authority, drawing the monkey’s gaze. “Go fetch the lady a ripe mango.”
Grinning, Bandit flew from his arms onto a branch above them, then swinging through the canopy, made his way to a mango tree Blake had spotted. Within minutes, the monkey returned, a ripe green and orange fruit in his hand, which he quickly gave to Emeline.
She stared at it, her delicate brows scrunching, as her eyes shifted between the mango and Blake. “He does your bidding. He understands you?”
“Aye.” Blake rubbed the back of his neck. “I can hardly believe it as well.” He scratched Bandit on the head. “You mentioned one of the powers of the Ring was communicating with animals, did you not?”
“Aye.” She blew out a sigh. “I thought ’twas only that the wearer understood what the animal said, not the other way around.” Her eyes widened. “That was why Bandit stole the Ring from Della Morte on that island with the hurricane. You instructed him.”
