The world of the Marquis de Montverre.Yet from the tension steaming from Caleb and the heaviness that seemed to weigh the air around them, she wasn’t sure she wished to be a part of this world.
Chapter 15: Destiny’s Dance
Montverre presided from the head of the table, every move elegant yet underlined with audacious power.He raised his glass.“To the sea that brings friends from afar.”
Something sour brewed in Caleb’s stomach.He and his father may have considered Montverre an ally at one point, for he’d welcomed their family onto the island with much enthusiasm, donating food and supplies for their mission.But friend?The man had not offered a finger to help Caleb when he needed it the most.Instead, when overwhelming odds swarmed the island, the marquis had hidden in his mansion.Afterward, when Caleb and his family were sent away, he suspected much worse.Nay, friend was not the term that came to mind.Still, he sipped his wine while sharing a knowing glance with Alden.
Geneviève was not present.That fact did much to unwind his tight nerves.He wasn’t altogether sure he wouldn’t strangle her on the spot, daughter of their host or not.Yet, he wondered how much her father knew of her treachery.So many unanswered questions.Hence, the reason he was here.
The marquis seemed to read his thoughts, even as his gaze drifted once again over Caleb’s hands.“If you seek dear Geneviève, she has gone to St.Kitts to visit her cousin.I expect her to return soon.”
Not until Caleb was long gone, he hoped.
The strains of a violin and harpsichord drifted in from an adjoining room as servants moved between guests, refilling goblets and placing platters of steaming food on the table.Beside him, Miss Starr remained quiet, sitting stiffly in her chair while examining the scene with an astonishment that could only be borne from lack of familiarity.Did she even notice that every man’s eyes were upon her?But how could he blame them?
Though her gown was old and its ribbons frayed, she carried it with unstudied dignity and elegant beauty.The lady could be wearing a burlap sack and still draw all eyes her way.Save Montverre, who had been unable to hide the scowl when he’d examined her attire.The man was a princock, had been two years ago, and apparently remained so.
Food was dished onto plates, and the feast began.The least Caleb could do was enjoy the fine repast, luxurious dishes he rarely enjoyed on a ship—roast suckling pig, sweet potatoes, and fried plantains.Conversation swelled, punctuated by Montverre’s low, cultivated laugh.
“A fine feast, monsieur.”Brandt raised a glass to Montverre.“The Cochon de lait rôti is particularly delicious.”The doctor had consumed an entire plate and proceeded to gather second helpings of everything.
“Indeed, you are most welcome.I don’t often get the privilege of having guests.”Montverre’s gaze sped to Caleb.“You can well imagine not many ships dare make port here.”
No doubt the man referred to the militia attack.“Regarding that, Monsieur…”
“Monsieur le Marquis,” the man corrected with an imperious grin.
A grin Caleb would love to punch off his face at the moment.“I hoped to discuss the incident with you, discover the truth of what occurred.”
“What occurred has been stamped into the history of this island.Surely you remember?”
“Of a truth, I know what happened.My question lies in the reason for it, the events which preceded it.”
The marquis’s eyes darkened as they sped toward Miss Starr.“A tale which I doubt suitable for a lady’s ears.”
Liam poured himself more wine from a goblet, winked at Desi, and inquired of Montverre about the vintage.
“Aha,oui.”The man raised his chin in the air, “A Bordeaux vintage, a refinement worthy of royal tables, rare in these islands, but unequalled in taste.”
His dark eyes flicked toward Desi again, this time lingering.“And you bring a lady among such rough company.How unusual… how bold.”His smile curved, faintly mocking.“Pray, do tellCapitaine—how does one guard such a treasure upon a ship of restless men?”
Desi’s face reddened as she stared aghast at the man.Caleb’s hand tightened on the stem of his goblet.“With discipline,” he said curtly.
The Marquis chuckled, swirling his wine.“Discipline is much like loyalty.A most fragile thing, do you not agree?Easily lost… easily broken.”His glance flicked down the table where his guests shifted uncomfortably.
Montverre allowed a footman to take his empty plate.“I hear, my dear Capitaine Hyde, that miscreants have caused damage aboard your ship.”
“’Tis true enough,” Caleb replied, pushing aside his half-eaten meal.
Alden leaned back in his chair.“Aye, Monsieur le Marquis, someone snuck aboard during the night and although a few of the crew were awake, we did not see who it was or the damage they caused until it was too late.”
“Ah.”The man dabbed a serviette across his lips and shook his head.“I fear there are far too many scoundrels lurking about the port.I have made every attempt to enforce the law and keep the vermin at bay, but they skitter away like cockroaches.”He flicked his hand in demonstration, his ring flashing in the light, then laughed at his clever analogy.
Liam snorted and continued drinking.Brandt shoved more food into his mouth, while Alden raised his brows
Caleb sensed a biting insincerity in the man’s tone.Or was it the devilish twinkle in his eyes?
“And they stole nothing?”Montverre asked.
