The Pirate's Daughter. Helen Dickson
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Seated across from Cassandra, Stuart lounged back in his chair, his arm stretched across the back, his hand idly turning the silver wine goblet in his fingers. His expression was thoughtful as he listened with interest to their light-hearted banter. When Cassandra laughed her face lit up and her eyes were like two sparkling sapphires, and her rosy lips stretched over her small white teeth. He was enchanted, and he wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was. He smiled, a slight, crooked smile.
‘I assure you that I am not in the least embarrassed—and I would like to know more about the young lady he speaks of.’ Her eyes regarded him calmly and steadily. She had such beautiful eyes, he thought as she gave him a mocking smile.
‘And what exactly would you like to know about me, Captain Marston?’
‘Something of a more personal nature, I think,’ John commented, laughing jovially. ‘You see, Captain Marston, Cassandra was considered to be an extremely difficult child by my mother before she died, and later I came to share that opinion—and most sympathised with me as an unfortunate man who had taken over the guardianship of a rebellious, unbiddable girl of an unpredictable disposition—’
‘Nevertheless, I do have some things in my favour,’ Cassandra interrupted crossly, irritated by what she considered to be a harsh and unfair analysis of her character. ‘I am reasonably well read and well educated, and, contrary to John’s opinion that I lack social graces, my manners are perfectly acceptable to society. Come, admit it, John?’
John chuckled. ‘Aye,’ he conceded, ‘I’d say your account is entirely accurate.’ Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his legs out in front of him, replete and satisfied after his meal. ‘So, Captain Marston, your ship is loaded and ready to leave with the convoy.’
Cassandra already knew Captain Marston would have to leave Barbados soon, but nevertheless she was unprepared for the sharp stab of disappointment that pierced her heart. The pleasure of the evening withered. ‘How long will it be before the convoy sails?’
‘Very soon—days—no longer than two weeks at the most,’ Stuart replied, having noticed her dismayed reaction and feeling well pleased by it. ‘We await Captain Tillotson’s and several other vessels’ arrival from Antigua, and then we sail for England.’
Trying to overcome the awful feeling of regret because he was to leave before they’d had the chance to become better acquainted, Cassandra smiled softly. ‘And what exciting and exotic cargo will you be taking back with you to England?’
‘Nothing as exotic as what you might have in mind—just the principle articles of trade such as cotton and sugar and other commodities. Things which are always in great demand by the British market.’
‘There is little wonder the pirates lay in wait to intercept the ships in order to steal their cargoes.’
‘Regrettably that is true. It is a fact that piracy takes place on a massive scale—which is why mercantile ships have become warlike and the reason why they almost always sail in convoy.’
‘And how long will it be before you return to the West Indies, Captain Marston?’
‘This is to be my final voyage. My seafaring days are at an end.’
His reply surprised Cassandra. ‘Oh! Why is that?’
‘I have duties in England that dictate I spend more time at my home in Kent. Because my time has been taken up with the sea for many years, I’m afraid my estate has fallen into a sorry state and is in dire need of attention.’
‘Forgive me if I seem surprised, Captain—it is just that you give me the impression of being a sailor born and bred. Having spent a number of years on board your ship, I suspect you will find it difficult to retire from it.’
Stuart cocked an eyebrow, assessing her. ‘I admit it will not be easy.’
‘Do you not employ a bailiff—or have brothers who can take care of your estate back in England?’
Stuart stiffened. ‘I have a bailiff—but no brothers,’ he replied, his voice sounding strained and his expression becoming closed suddenly, as if she had intruded on to something private. ‘There is only my mother, and she prefers to spend most of her time in London.’
‘I see.’ Cassandra was curious as to what it could be that had brought about this apparent change in him, but she let it rest, not wishing to pry further. ‘And what will you do with your ship? Will you sell it?’
‘The Company is to buy the Sea Hawk. But what of you, Mistress Everson?’ Stuart leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a frown, tactfully directing the conversation away from himself before she felt inclined to ask questions about his family that he preferred not to discuss with anyone. ‘Your cousin tells me you are to leave Barbados, also.’
Cassandra glanced sharply across the table at John, the meaning behind the remark Captain Marston had made earlier becoming clear. ‘He did?’
‘Yes,’ John said quickly, looking flustered all of a sudden, wishing he’d taken the time to tell Cassandra of his intention before Captain Marston’s arrival. ‘I’ve asked Captain Marston if he will be so kind as to accommodate you and Rosa on board his ship for the journey back to England.’
‘You have?’ she gasped, her startled gaze flying from her cousin to Captain Marston, who was calmly watching her reaction to this with an infuriating wicked gleam dancing in his black eyes.
‘Yes. I told you when you arrived that you cannot possibly remain here indefinitely. I would prefer it if you were back at home with Meredith, which is where you belong.’
‘I see,’ Cassandra said stiffly, looking directly at Captain Marston. ‘I trust you have room to accommodate me and my companion?’
‘Yes. Ample. I shall be delighted to have you on board.’ The haste with which Sir John was sending Cassandra back to England was beginning to cast doubt on Stuart’s suspicion that his feelings for his cousin were anything other than that. He smiled inwardly, beginning to feel easier.
‘Thank you. Then it would seem there is little more to be said.’ Cassandra looked away from the dark gaze that was studying her intently, and she had to admit that if she had to return to England then she could think of no other ship she would rather sail on than his.
The conversation was interrupted when Elmina entered to speak to John. Cassandra chose that moment to excuse herself, moving out on to the verandah and welcoming the cool night air after the heat of the room. Oil lamps hanging from a low beam against a curtain of scarlet blossom gave off a flickering light, which drew dancing moths, mesmerised by the flame. She was only aware that Captain Marston had followed her when she heard his light step behind her.
He moved a little away from her to lean casually against the wooden balustrade and looked to where she stood, her profile etched against the star-strewn sky, her face gleaming like alabaster in the white glow of the moon that bathed the garden in an incandescent light. Neither seemed in a hurry to speak, the silence stretching between them broken only by the creatures of the night.
In the dim light Stuart