“Captain,” she hissed under her breath.“I can’t…” But he had already turned to face her, bowing with a flourish more graceful than she assumed possible from a pirate.
Her breath caught.Her heart raged against her ribs.A crowd formed around them, watching.Heat flooded her as she dipped awkwardly, then glanced toward the door leading onto the porch.Perhaps it wasn’t too late to make a run for it.
But then his hand was at her waist, guiding her, steady and in control.The music swelled.And much to her surprise, Caleb moved with the elegance of a polished gentleman, each step exact, each movement executed with masculine grace.And through it all, his gaze never left hers, offering her comfort, assurance, protection.During those moments when she had no idea what to do, he led her with a tug on her fingers or a hand firmly on her back.When she faltered, he quickly covered it up with a twist or turn.
Their hands brushed.A jolt of heat spiraled through her.His eyes, blue as the midnight sea, captured hers as he passed, then back again.The intensity in his look sent her adrift, caught in a tide she could not fight.Every bow, every turn, every flourish brought them closer together until they were but inches apart, so close she felt his warm breath on her cheek, inhaled his scent of salted leather and bay rum.Her pulse thundered.The minuet blurred into something far beyond a dance—a joining of hearts, a silent conversation of glances and breath.
Desi barely noticed the musicians had stopped playing.The guests applauded, then swelled onto the floor for the next dance.She struggled to breathe.What was happening?She’d massacred the moves, but Caleb’s intense gaze held nothing but delight.His fingers still held hers, warm and unyielding, as if the world had vanished and only the two of them remained.
♥
Caleb didn’t want to let go.He could stand there forever, holding Desi’s hand and gazing deep into her blue eyes, the clearest Caribbean turquoise he’d ever seen.His gaze dipped to her pink, trembling lips, the ones she nibbled on when she was nervous.And he’d give a king’s ransom to kiss her.
But the other guests crowded around, positioning for a Gavotte, so he drew the lady off to the side and found her a seat.She seemed as stunned and out of sorts as he was, blinking and breathing hard as if she’d just fought a battle.Something personal, intimate, and perhaps meaningful occurred during their dance.He’d never felt the likes of it.’Twas far more than simple passion or desire.Nay, this went deeper, beyond anything he’d felt before.
Still, after such an amorous dance, along with his faultless execution and assistance covering her mistakes, most women would be overwhelmed by his charm and virile good looks and would extoll his masculine graces, flirting and behaving the coquette.Not this woman.Desi sat staring straight ahead, a shocked expression on her face that bespoke of more horror than passion.
Had he misjudged her reaction to him?
“I’ll get us some punch, Miss Starr,” he said, evoking a slight nod from the lady.
At the side table, Caleb popped a sweet cake into his mouth and scanned the ballroom for Monsieur Montverre.The man was nowhere to be seen.At least Liam seemed to be enjoying himself.In truth, the bosun always savored a good party, no matter if the host was the devil himself.Brandt, glass of port in one hand, cane in the other, hobbled through the French doors onto the porch.And Alden…?Ah, there he stood, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching the proceedings, a grim look on his face.But then again, the man had grown up the son of a humble cooper and would not have had the opportunity to attend such a lavish ball.
Returning to Miss Starr, he handed her the punch.
“Thank you, Caleb,” she smiled sweetly and took it.
’Twas the first time she’d called him by his Christian name, and his heart surged at the sound.
That sensation was quickly crushed when he spotted Montverre heading out onto the veranda.Catching Alden’s glance from across the room, he gestured his friend over.
“Miss Starr, I must speak with the marquis alone.Alden will stand by you while I am gone.”
She stared up at him, a twinge of apprehension crossed her expression before it stiffened.“Go then.I can take care of myself.”’Twas a declaration of independence from a woman trapped in an impossibly frightful situation, a wall erected around her heart against a betrayal that was sure to come.Something he could understand all too well.Yet he found himself longing to know what had caused this lady’s mistrust.
Alden appeared beside Caleb, and despite his protests that Caleb should not seek out Montverre alone, Caleb ordered him to guard Miss Starr and marched away.This may be his last opportunity to hear the truth from the pompous man.
♥
Dr.Oliver Brandt limped down the veranda stairs, leaning on his cane.With his belly full and a drink in hand, he hoped to find solace among the various tropical flowers, cultured bushes, and trickling fountains forming the lavish gardens of the Montverre estate.He’d never been one to enjoy the idle prattle of nobility, not when there was work to be done.Lives to save.No physician, especially not one trained at the Royal College of Physicians in London, should be lax in his studies, lax in his fervency to add new discoveries or new techniques to his ability to heal, to snatch the sick and injured from the jaws of death.’Twas his life’s work and vitally important even for his humble task as ship’s surgeon.
Drawing in a deep breath of humid air tainted with the sweet scent of jasmine and plumeria, he sipped his drink and made his way down a winding cobblestone path.Torches dotted the garden, their flames licking the darkness and casting a golden glow over the cultured beauty.The ghostly call of a nightjar joined the cadence of katydids, drowning out the music and drone of conversation spilling from the estate.
He turned a corner, and there in the shadows stood a brick building tucked against the southern wall of the marquis’s gardens.Glass, set in lead frames, formed tall arched windows that, along with a sloped glass roof, glittered in the moonlight.An orangerie?
Curiosity got the best of him, and he pushed open the green-shuttered door.Air, even more warm and humid than outside, swamped him with the scents of damp earth, citrus and life.Orange and lime trees stood in an ordered row to this right, their leaves a glossy silver in the incoming moonlight.Fascinating!He shut the door behind him, feeling a little mischievous for invading this private spot, yet unable to resist the plethora of delights within.He thanked the fates—for he did not believe in God—for the nearly full moon this night that filtered pearly light through the glass roof onto even stranger treasures—a potted pineapple, coffee plants, and a table full of orchids, their blooms like butterflies ready to soar.Other plants, half buried in pots and jars, covered long stone benches.
’Twas like the Garden of Eden, a luxuriant paradise of life and healing, for unlike many of his fellow doctors, Brandt believed Mother Nature had hidden health within the flora of this world.If only he could discover her secrets, then maybe he could save more, heal more.Redeem himself from his past tragedies and one day be reinstated to the reputable position for which he craved.
He moved to examine a plant he’d never seen before, an herb of some sort, when he heard voices, distinct…hushed…familiar, coming from just outside the building.Moving to the door, he opened it a crack.
Chapter 16: Time Holds No Sway
“Parbleu!What are you doing here?”The marquis spat into the darkness, one jeweled hand fixed upon his hip.
“I needed to talk wit’ you,” Ayida replied, glad the shadows hid her face, where hatred curled her lips.
“At my soirée?Nom de Dieu!Surely you were seen?”
