The Captain's Lady Read online

  “Why can’t Oi go the whole way ta Charleston?” she asked stubbornly.

  “Because it will be at least three weeks before we get there now. You can’t hope to hide the fact you’re a girl for that long. The men who called you Pretty Boy will seem like angels compared to the others when they find out. I can’t protect you all day and night too. You’ll be safer getting off at one of the islands.”

  Alexis drew her eyebrows together and frowned. “Oi don’t like this, Pauley. It ain’t…isn’t wot I planned for meself. Wot would Oi…I do on an island?”

  “Oh, Alex,” he laughed. “I’m not just going to push you ashore and forget about you. I have friends on Tortola, in Roadtown. I’ve told you about George and Francine often enough. You remember? Quinton shipping.”

  “I remember.”

  “Why do you look so unhappy? They’re good people. I know they’ll take you in.”

  “Like Charlie and Meg did,” she replied bitterly.

  “No. Not like Charlie and Meg. Don’t you know me any better than that? I wouldn’t put you with people like that. George and Francine don’t have any children—at least they didn’t when I last saw them—and they have money, Alex.”

  “That’s na’ important. Oi wasn’t unhappy because I was poor.”

  “I know that. You were unhappy because you could do nothing about it there. Well, the Quintons won’t present you with that problem. You’ll be able to get an education and if you still want to go to the United States later, they’ll see that you get there.”

  “Why would they want me? They seem to have everything they want.”

  Pauley lifted his dark eyebrows in surprise. “You can ask that? I thought you knew yourself better.”

  Alexis tried to puzzle that out. No one had ever expressed a desire to be her friend before and it had never bothered her. Pauley was an exception. Could it be the Quintons were like him? “Oi don’ ’ave a choice, do I?” she asked softly.

  “Not this time, Alex. Trust me. This is one decision that has been made for you. I’ll accept the consequences.” He laughed and held her hand when she eyed him warily.

  By the time the Constellation reached the port of Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas, Alexis had accepted Pauley’s decision. During the three days between the time he’d confronted her and the time they anchored near the thriving harbor, Alexis had learned all she could about George and Francine Quinton. Pauley explained how George had left England over twenty years ago with his French bride, determined to make his fortune planting sugar cane and raising livestock on Tortola. It hadn’t taken him long to realize there was a better life to be had by setting up his own shipping firm to transport the goods of the other settlers. Quinton Shipping had started slowly and suffered many setbacks before George managed to make a success of it. Alexis had seen his ships before, delivering sugar in the harbor at Bristol, their sides painted dark blue and decorated with red bands broken by the spaces of the gun ports. Alexis was intrigued by what she learned about the Quintons. That knowledge and Pauley’s daily assurances enabled her to put aside some of her misgivings.

  By the time the Constellation anchored off Tortola Pauley suspected there was little left he could do to allay Alexis’s remaining fears. But when it was time for them to leave he found her alone in her cabin, precariously close to tears, and he knew that he had not begun to touch her deepest, most secret thoughts.

  “I thought you trusted me,” he told her as he sat beside her on the bunk. He watched a pathetic tremor shake her body as she tried to suppress her tears. “What are you upsetting yourself about?”

  “Oi ain’t upset.” Her attempt at defiance was lost as the words passed through the lump in her throat.

  Pauley smiled. “Liar.”

  Alexis felt herself blush, embarrassed that his accusation was true. To hide it she threw her arms around Pauley’s neck and buried her face against his chest. “Oi’m grateful to you, Pauley. Truly, Oi am. Oi know yer doin’ wot ya think is best fer me.”

  “But?” He removed her arms from around his neck and placed his hand on her chin, lifting her face to meet his eyes. “I know there’s a but. What are you so afraid of? What has you shaking?”

  She drew in a sharp breath; then the words seemed to explode from her. “Wot if Oi learn ta luv ’em and they don’t want me by and by? Oi’ll ’urt again, Pauley. Loike Oi ’urt now, leavin’ you. Oi don’t want ta be beholdin’ ta nobody. Nor nobody’s burden either.” She sniffed loudly. “Oi jest want ta go me own way. Ta America.”

  Pauley pulled Alexis back into his arms and held her tightly. “You could never be a burden, Alex. You will always have it in you to go your own way. It’s what I love best about you.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly. No one who loves you would ever stop you. As for loving, it’s a risk sometimes. I’ve never known that to scare you off.” Pauley knew Alexis would recognize the challenge he gave her and be unable to ignore it. She made no reply other than to release her tears softly into the fabric of his shirt.

  Less than an hour later, the incident behind them and never to be mentioned again, Pauley and Alexis left the ship during the transfer of cargo. With Alexis firmly in tow, Pauley hurried through the busy streets of Roadtown. Behind them, in Road Bay, a small fleet of fishing sloops lazily made its way to open water. In front of them, the small settlement town was the source of one discovery after another. Pauley laughed at Alexis’s childish amazement at her first sight of one of the dark-skinned islanders. Her enthusiasm for the bright foliage was endless; she wanted to stop every ten paces to smell some delicious new flower. He pointed out fields of sugar cane on the terraced hillsides, and she made him halt in mid-stride to watch the cane being loaded on donkeys before it was taken to the mill. Pauley was happy to comply with her wishes. He could never have denied her simple delight in her new surroundings. On board the ship she had been so defensive, so old. Now, with someone guiding her adventure, she was almost like any other child he saw on the waterfront.

  He smiled as she picked an unusual pink flower and placed it behind her ear. It refused to stay in place because her hair was too short to grasp it.

  “When I see you again,” he said, “I expect you to have that hair of yours grown to the middle of your back. If I find out that you’ve chopped it off again, for whatever reason, I’ll flay you alive.”

  Alexis laughed at the threat. Then she sobered suddenly. She took his hand firmly. “It will take years to grow my hair that long. So you mean Oi won’t see ya ’til then?” There was a slight catch in her voice but she checked it. She did not want to make a habit of crying in front of him.

  “Who knows the next time I’ll be here,” he said lightly to hide his feelings. He took the delicate frangipani from her hand and twirled it in his own. “But when I do come I expect you to be waiting.”

  “Will you tell yer family about me, Pauley? Maybe one of yer boys will marry me. Then you could be me dad.”

  Pauley would have liked nothing better than to take her home where she would be accepted by his wife and sons and daughters, but he pushed the thought aside, knowing George and Francine were the best people for her. “You’d frighten off my boys with those penetrating eyes of yours, Alex. The only reason I stand up to your stare is that I’m three full heads taller. I don’t know what will happen when you start meeting people eye to eye. You can make a body feel tiny when you stare him down.”

  “Not you, Pauley. Never you. That’s one o’ the things Oi like about you. You never back away. Me brothers an’ sisters turned from me when Oi didn’t take to their teasin’. Sometimes when Charlie would beat me Oi’d stare ’im down. Ooooh, ’e ’ated that. Jest about as much as Oi ’ated ’im fer lookin’ the other way. What do you suppose made ’em do it?”

  Pauley did not answer her. He knew the reason others turned away from her. She didn’t know that in her eyes people saw her expectations mirrored and most of them avoided her because they could not meet her demands.
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  Alexis tightened her grip on Pauley’s hand when she felt his pace slacken. She looked up and followed the path of his gaze until her eyes rested on a house situated on a cliff overlooking the water. “Is that were Oi’m goin’ ta live?” she asked, feeling her heart beat wildly in anticipation of his answer.

  “That’s it. Your new home.” He said it without hesitation, knowing that George and Francine would never turn down the gift he was about to offer them.

  The breath caught in Alexis’s throat. She could not take her eyes away from the house. She had never expected so much. She blinked once, then several times in quick succession. Each time the same view greeted her. The large house, the wide portico, the thick white columns, and the red tile roof were all still there. Surrounding the house were trees so green she wondered by what right the trees in London made claim to that color. The sun touched the leaves so that they sparkled like emeralds, and the flowers here were even more beautiful than she remembered on her walk through the settlement. A coral bush, glowing like a firework display with yellows, oranges, and crimsons, demanded her attention; even as the belladonna, like a delicate yellow pinwheel, begged to be noticed. These were the colors, the sparks of light, she had seen when she’d pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. There would be no grays in this existence. She thought she had never seen anything so clean and fresh as this place. The only thing marring it was her own grubby appearance. She held back suddenly, not certain she wanted to go on. Pauley waited patiently, sensing the reason for her hesitation. When he heard her sigh and caught sight of that determined set of her mouth, he pulled her up the hill quickly before she changed her mind.

  Alexis followed him, willing her feet to take each step firmly as if she were climbing the rigging of the Constellation again. She knew when she reached the crest of the hill it would be like being in the crow’s nest.

  No one could ever harm her there.

  Chapter 2

  The next six years held the promise Alexis had envisioned when she first reached the crest of the hill. In the loving protection of George and Francine Quinton she found a contentment she had never known or even hoped existed. Yearning to be worthy of the love she had learned to accept and return, she challenged herself to contribute to her new family.

  Under George’s strict eye and encouraging countenance she learned to read and write, and was able to laugh at the mistake she had made selecting her own name. It wasn’t important any longer. Alex Danty was gone. She was Alexis Quinton, secure in the knowledge that no one could take that away from her.

  She retained all the perseverance of the child who had at one time dropped her aitches. George was never quite certain how he had been persuaded to allow Alexis to work in his offices, but after a time it ceased to matter.

  He ignored the comments others made when he gave her tasks ranging from the most difficult to the most menial. She did them all with equal enthusiasm. George was quick to realize he had found a person capable of running Quinton Shipping. He never tried to conceal his pride when she handled difficult situations smoothly. Her self-confidence was labeled as arrogance by some but that mattered little to him. That quality was a sign of knowing what she was doing as far as he was concerned and he loved her for it.

  During the years that Alexis was learning her trade she gradually became aware of her maturation into womanhood. She bore no resemblance to the gangly, tow-headed youth Pauley had introduced to the Quintons. At nineteen her limbs were in perfect proportion to the rest of her tall form and the awkwardness that had plagued her was replaced with a grace some women took years of conscious effort to learn. Francine had told her that her long limbs would be her best asset, but Alexis could not help wondering if asset was quite the right word to apply to the smooth line of her arms and legs. It was getting harder to be taken seriously by some of George’s associates. It had been bad enough when they had treated her as a child, but now they only seemed to see her slender waist and gently swelling hips. She never blushed when they stared at her. She merely waited until their gazes returned to her face; then she discreetly murdered them with a piercing amber glance. It was they who blushed and looked away, embarrassed for having forgotten the business at hand.

  At home with Francine, Alexis practiced needlepoint and dancing. She learned how to entertain guests and her graciousness was as natural as her arrogance.

  Only on one subject did she and Francine disagree.

  “But Alexis,” Francine would protest, “you cannot continue to turn away every young man with a look. You frighten them.”

  “I don’t intimidate George or Pauley,” Alexis would return quickly.

  “They are different.”

  “You mean they’re special.”

  “Perhaps,” Francine would concede.

  “Don’t you see, Francine? The man I want would never turn away.”

  And the subject would be closed until Francine caught Alexis doing it again. She was at a loss to explain Alexis’s peculiar behavior. Her daughter was beautiful, intelligent, and certainly wealthy. It was known throughout the islands that she was George’s choice to run Quinton Shipping in the future. And it was not as if the islands were not without suitable matches. There were planters and ranchers as well as politically ambitious men vying for Alexis’s attention. She, however, seemed interested only in making friends with George’s employees, the men who worked in the offices or the men who sailed his ships.

  Francine finally contented herself with tutoring Alexis in social graces. Her daughter hung on each lesson with the same degree of earnestness she exhibited when George was teaching her some aspect of the business. The intensity with which she approached every stage of her education sometimes frightened Francine. Alexis was a formidable young woman, even as she had been a formidable child. The man who would have her love would have to be special indeed, and Francine had to agree with her daughter that Alexis had not met him yet.

  Alexis had too much interest in the present to allow herself to dwell on the past. But she thought of Pauley’s return and of her promise to him as her hair grew past her chin, then her shoulders, and finally reached the length he had commanded.

  Not far beyond her home Alexis found a natural ledge on the cliff side of the hill. Overlooking the ocean, it reminded her of the crow’s nest and offered her sanctuary when she watched for Pauley’s ship. Here, in this rocky nest, while searching the horizon for her friend, she thought of all the pleasures that had been hers since coming to the island.

  On the eve of her sixth anniversary with George and Francine, Alexis again took up her vigil in her well-worn spot. She pulled absentmindedly at her long yellow braids. Surely he would come soon. She had so much she wanted to thank him for. Pauley had been right about so many things and now she wanted to tell him she understood.

  Alexis watched the shadow of a ship nearing the harbor. The full moon gave it a ghostly appearance, and she shivered even though she told herself she was being silly. She did not believe in Francine’s woman’s intuition. Still, as she followed the ship into port, she could not put aside a feeling of dread. She had never experienced anything like it before, and she hoped she would never feel anything akin to it again.

  Alexis slept peacefully that night, never knowing that her life in the crow’s nest was about to be shattered. There was no sanctuary in 1810 from a British naval vessel in search of a crew to man her guns.

  When she awoke Francine’s petite frame was bending over her, wishing her happiness of this special day, and the uneasiness she had experienced before going to bed was forgotten.

  “Happy anniversary,” Francine whispered, laughter alive in her azure eyes. “Can you believe it is six years? George says you may have the day off in honor of the occasion. He promised to be home early. All of the servants have a holiday. I believe they’ll want to thank you later for it.”

  Alexis smiled, trying to stifle a yawn. “It’s been a wonderful six years, hasn’t it? As if I’ve always lived here.”
She brushed the hair away from her eyes, wishing she hadn’t unbraided it before she’d gone to bed. It had practically strangled her in her sleep and now it covered her shoulders and back like a blanket. The silky waves everyone else admired were more often a nuisance to Alexis.

  She sat up while Francine reached for her brush and began to work through the tangled ends. “Where would you like me to go today so you will be able to make my favorite sweet and surprise me later?”

  Francine hit her lightly on the back of the head with the brush. “Vous êtes impossible, Alexis. Would it not be a good surprise if this year I did nothing?”

  Alexis turned suddenly, horrified that Francine might make good her threat; but when she saw those blue eyes light up she laughed at her foolishness. This day meant too much to all of them for Francine to change her ways now.

  “You haven’t answered my question, Francine. Where should I go?”

  Francine sighed. “Why don’t you go to the beach? The spot you can see from your crow’s nest. I’ll be able to call you when the surprise is ready.” She paused. “Stay away from the rocks, Alexis. Please? I worry when you swim so close to them.”

  “You worry too much,” Alexis scolded. “I’ve never been hurt before and I’ll be careful now. Go along and don’t fret. Give me a chance to dress.” She kissed Francine on the cheek and hugged her fiercely. “Have I told you lately how wonderful you and George are?”

  “Not in the last day or so.” She laughed, extricating herself from Alexis’s arms.

  When Francine had gone Alexis dressed quickly, pulling on a light cotton shift she saved for making the steep descent to the beach. Carrying a towel, she whisked past her mother on her way out the door. The cool grass felt good beneath her bare feet as she carefully picked her way down the hill. When she had reached the white sandy bottom she undressed hurriedly and ran to the water’s edge. Without pausing she dove headfirst into the clear, blue water. She swam for a short while and then floated on the water, letting the gentle current carry her along to the area Francine had asked her to stay away from.