he was speaking, other guests began to arrive—thirty all told, some officers of the vessels in the harbour and merchants who had made their home on Santamaria. One of the footmen announced dinner.
Carmelita turned to her husband. ‘We’d better go in. Captain Fitzgerald, will you bring my sister-in-law along?’ she urged as she took her husband’s arm and moved towards the dining room.
‘It will be my pleasure.’ Zack gallantly presented his arm to the golden-haired beauty, at the same time catching her hand and pulling it through the crook of his elbow, not giving her a chance to deny him.
Shona yielded rather than make a scene, but behind Carmelita’s back she glared up at him and hissed, ‘You are quite outrageous, Captain.’
‘Has anyone told you,’ he breathed, blithely ignoring her irritation as he bent his head near hers, ‘how beautiful you are?’
She lifted her slim nose to a higher elevation, avoiding any reply. Still, she could not quell the stirring of pleasure his words aroused. At the table, he held her chair as she slipped into it. Thoughtfully she watched him walk around the table to take a place opposite her. That was the moment she realised a solution to her future course of action might be staring her in the face, a solution that would enable her to cast off the shackles her brother had placed on her that bound her to the island. But could she bolster the courage to carry out the wild plan she had suddenly conceived?
* * *
With eyes cold and unrevealing, Carmelita observed the pair and the looks that passed between them. She was suddenly inspired. Of course, Captain Fitzgerald was the critical factor. If the two of them should form an attachment, the combination could be explosive. Her mind was racing. An expression of calculating scheming was pasted on her face and she was feeling a little breathless with excitement.
* * *
The dinner was a relaxed affair and extremely civilised, and at times seemed quite unreal. On the one hand the table appointments were elegant, the English fare Zack favoured excellent, the service of the footmen everything that could be desired—and the delectable Miss Shona McKenzie in his line of vision at all times.
Reflecting on her proposal that she intended to put to Captain Fitzgerald, Shona glanced at him. The decision made, her resolution seemed a fantasy, dreamed up by someone other than herself. But he was magnificent, exuding the kind of strength and masculinity that women found extremely appealing. He didn’t appear to be entirely at ease with Antony. His manner towards him was civil, but stiff, wary. However, he looked as if he had perfected the knack of making a woman feel special—he was bending close to Mrs Frobisher seated next to him, listening attentively and watching the elderly lady with those silver-grey eyes. The same eyes that had looked her over appreciatively earlier.
The conversation was about what was happening in Europe and America, combined with the usual supper-party trivia, leisurely and varied and well marked with ship owners’ diverse opinions on the interests of their profession, while the ladies discussed the various society magazines and fripperies that had been brought on one of the vessels. Shona was in animated conversation with the foppish John Filligrew, a boyishly handsome youth of twenty-one with high colour in his smooth cheeks and a tangle of coppery curls. But every now and then she could feel a pair of silver-grey eyes watching her with a predatory stare and her head would turn and her eyes would meet those of Captain Fitzgerald.
‘In a domain such as this,’ Antony said in answer to a question Captain Fitzgerald had just posed about the early days of the island, ‘my father established a great many duties. Bringing slaves and bondsmen to the island, he supervised the clearing of the forests, sold the timber and prepared the fields for cultivation. We now have cane fields and our own vessels to transport the commodities. There is also the rearing and tending of our livestock. In fact, we grow and rear everything we require.’
‘I understand you have land and properties in Virginia. With all there is to do on the island, do you find the time to go there?’ Zack enquired, his long fingers toying with the stem of his wine glass.
‘I go whenever I am able, but on the whole, like my father before me, I employ reliable people to oversee and run things for me.’
‘Antony,’ Carmelita said from the opposite end of the table to her husband. ‘I’m sure Captain Fitzgerald doesn’t want to hear all this.’ She smiled at Zack. ‘I’m sorry, Captain Fitzgerald. My husband does tend to talk business all the time.’
‘Please don’t apologise. I’m overwhelmed by the abundance on such a small island.’ His eyes flicked to Shona and a slight smile curved his lips. ‘In fact, I find it so appealing that I am tempted to reside here myself.’
‘And you would be welcome to do so, Captain,’ Antony said. ‘If you can find the time before you leave, I would enjoy showing you the island.’
‘Thank you. I would like to take you up on that. Are you not troubled by buccaneers, Mr McKenzie? The number of outlaws and castaways infesting the Caribbean has increased considerably of late. I marvel that you have not been driven out.’
‘We should have been on several occasions had we not taken precautions against being caught off our guard.’
‘Such as?’
‘In several places along the shore, I have men living who would give me warning of the approach of any hostile body.’
‘And you can count on their loyalty?’
‘It is not a case of counting on their loyalty, but their greed. I pay each of them a wage for doing nothing, which of course would cease if I were driven out, and any of them who brings me a timely warning knows that he will receive enough money to keep him in idleness for years. Santamaria also has its own defence. As you will have seen for yourself, the leeward side of the island is sheltered from the full force of the trade winds, so that the waves of the Caribbean lap easily on the shore—unlike the rest of the island and the high cliffs, which have no defence against the wind-driven rollers of the Atlantic. I have men stationed to defend the island at all times. It’s a brave pirate who will attempt to sail his ship into the cove.’
The conversation was interrupted when a footman poured more wine. Zack looked across at the delectable Miss McKenzie still in conversation with John Filligrew, his head bent close to hers as he whispered some confidence in her ear. Zack experienced a flash of completely unfounded and unexpected emotion, a white-hot surge of jealousy unlike anything he’d ever felt for any lover he’d ever had. He wanted to rush over and pull the man away, to tell him he had no business leaning in so close, no right to get so near to her—this woman he had never met before today.
She was talkative and vivacious, with a lilting voice that was like music to his ears after six weeks at sea without female companionship. Her expression was endlessly fascinating as she smiled, frowned and wrinkled her slightly freckled nose and rolled her eyes. Looking up, she caught his eye and he had the odd feeling that she knew what he was thinking.
‘Have you always lived on the island, Miss McKenzie?’ he asked.
‘Yes, except for the time my father sent me to England to be educated.’
Zack looked at her, musing as he stared. He was wrong in his initial assumption. Despite being raised in this place, so far from the corrupting influences of civilisation, she had been exposed to them after all.
Shona noticed how incredibly light his eyes were in the flare of the candles. It was impossible not to respond to
