“I can,” she grinned. “But I promise not to do so when the French are near.”
She was teasing, chuckling and smiling—behavior that he had seen her rarely exhibit. “Have you been partaking of my rum, Miss…Tempest.”
“No, but I have been tempted. These circumstances do have me on edge.”
Yes, well, him as well.
“Join me.” He moved over as far as he could to make room for her to sit on the hammock.
“Thank you.” She smiled and sat, but because they were sitting on something suspended and curved they ended up right next to each other with their thighs touching.
“Are you really from Martinique?” Tempest repeated the question she had first asked.
“My mother was. Her name was Adeline Duval, a name recognized after I arrived, which made me welcomed without suspicion.”
“You recognized the captain’s name when I first said it.”
“I made no comment.”
“It was a flicker in your eyes, barely but it was still there.”
Rhys had hoped that he had not given himself away, but he had been surprised by what she had been telling him.
“My father and I both know what my uncle uses his boats for.” She smiled. “My father is a diplomat living on an island in the middle of the Caribbean where the British are trying to take control of the French occupied islands. There is little he does not know of the network or what my uncle does.”
“That he is a smuggler instead of a merchant,” Rhys suggested to see if she truly knew or was guessing.
“You and I both know that it is more,” she said. “Otherwise, you would not be so afraid of the French finding me and my sisters.”
“Any man from England would recognize the danger and I hope would protect you.”
“If you really wished to live with the French on the island of Martinique, you would not have found a house miles from civilization,” she argued.
“What does your uncle do?” he countered. Though he believed she knew more than she should, he needed to hear her say it before he admitted to anything.
“I suspect that Cornelius, by way of Captain Goodard, had messages delivered to and retrieved from you.”
Tempest waited for Rhys to confirm or deny her claim.
Instead, he took a deep breath and turned to look out at the sea.
Maybe he was afraid to tell her the truth, or maybe he was only here for peace and quiet and she had erred in saying anything to him.
“I arrived here five months ago,” he began. “I am to perform reconnaissance and gather intelligence as to the defense of the island, including number of soldiers and militia, the strength of defenses of Fort Desaix and terrain advantages of the island. I was also supposed to intercept dispatches, which were delivered to Cornelius when he brought me intelligence.” He looked at her. “I am also to report on civilian morale, which is low and likely lower since I was last in Fort-de-France because of the blockade and dwindling supplies. I was to befriend those who are sympathetic to the British but did not meet anyone and I did not want to risk getting too close to others. However, it is easy to see the low morale when I am in the city and witness the dwindling supplies and hear the complaints of the merchants and citizens.”
Now that she knew for certain the reason Rhys was here, she became more comfortable. At least they were on the same side and he served the same purpose as her uncle and father.
“Had you ever been to the Caribbean before you were sent here?”
Rhys chuckled. “I was born on Antigua and lived there for thirteen years before I was shipped off to school in England.”
“Then why aren’t you in Antigua?”
“Because the British are already there and control the island. Here is where I am needed.”
“How long have you been a spy or is this your first mission?” she asked quietly, partially teasing.
“I was recruited by the Home Office ten years ago, but that is all I am saying.”
