Captive Innocence (7 page)

“It would seem Senora Banner also has a teasing sense of humor. Senora Quince, I can't tell you how I'm looking forward to this journey up the Amazon. Thanks to Mrs. Banner and yourself, I believe I'm the only gentleman aboard who is so fortunate as to be honored with the company of two such lovely ladies.”

“Sebastian, save your speeches for the dance floor. My ankle is aching me. Please don't hesitate to ask Royall to dance for fear of leaving me alone at the table.” Mrs. Quince pressed her hand to her lips to stifle a demure yawn. “As soon as I have finished my dessert, I fear it will be all I can do to keep my eyes open. Therefore, I shall have one of the stewards take me back to my cabin and entrust you to see that Royall is properly entertained. I have no wish to act as a duenna, I can assure you. I've known you long enough, Sebastian, to feel it quite proper to leave Royall in your care.”

Oh, Mrs. Quince, if you only knew how wrong you are, Royall thought.

Sebastian nodded. “I shall be delighted to act as escort for Senora Banner.”

Sebastian turned his eyes toward Royall and smiled. Somewhere within her something stirred, making it hard for her to breathe.

He had kept his eyes on her throughout the dinner, ruining her appetite. What was he looking for when he peered so deeply into her eyes? Why was it so hard for her to keep her eyes from meeting his? She didn't like the strange emotions his presence evoked.

The music began to play again, a soft, haunting tune with which she was not familiar. Waiters busied themselves quenching the candles burning brightly in the chandeliers above the tables.

A huge black man, dressed in bright gaudy trousers and an orange silk shirt open to the waist, proceeded onto the dance floor and squatted, placing a pair of drums between his knees.

The flutist played a haunting melody, rising an octave above the other instruments. Suddenly, on the dance floor were two other natives, a man and woman, both dressed in flamboyant costume. They assumed a stiff, yet graceful pose and waited for the music to reach its end.

The dining hall became quiet; the diners waited expectantly.

“You are in store for a treat, Royall,” Mrs. Quince whispered. “This is, if I'm not mistaken, the trio that has been taking Rio de Janeiro by storm. They're from Africa and I understand they're quite a success. I suppose they're on their way to Manaus to play at the opera house.”

“Shhh,” came a command from behind Mrs. Quince. A woman gestured with her hand and turned Royall's attention toward the dance floor.

The dancer began to move, swaying her hips in rhythm to the music; the man followed her lead. The drummer beat a slow rhythm, which became imperceptibly faster as the dance continued. The music took flight, the flutist now reaching low, mellow notes and then soaring to unbelievably clear, high-pitched tones.

The dancers followed the rhythm, swaying, rocking, becoming faster till they were swirling together, holding each other close.

Royall had never seen anything like this. She had been to New York once with her father, to the opera and the ballet, but somehow she could not imagine even the sophisticated New York society of the year 1877 accepting these dancers at their ballet or opera house.

Her attention was attracted to the woman dancer. Tall and lithe, she was now arching herself backward, her expression one of ecstasy. The light of the few candles remaining was caught by the beads of perspiration on her arms and throat, creating miniature diamonds.

The melody and rhythm became heavy, surging to a rapid crescendo. The music stopped; the dancers remained absolutely still, a dramatic tableau. The diners were hushed. Royall glanced around and saw men pulling at their collars and women fanning themselves rapidly. Within herself, Royall felt a remembered excitement. She returned her attention to her own table. Mrs. Quince appeared mesmerized by the dancers; she was staring fixedly at them. Sebastian Rivera was staring at Royall. His gaze was penetrating, probing. Royall returned his look boldly. She felt beautiful under his gaze, warm and sensuous. He was remembering the same as she was. This man made her aware of herself, of her beauty, of her womanliness.

Their eyes locked. Deep, deeper. He gazed, she felt, into her soul and she welcomed him. How well she remembered.

Minutes later, Mrs. Quince retired to her cabin with the aid of a steward. Royall and Sebastian spoke of inconsequential things and shared the enjoyment of each other's company. Along toward midnight, Sebastian acquiesced to the lateness of the hour and suggested a stroll around the deck before escorting Royall back to her cabin.

Royall felt drained. Why was he playing this charade? Not one mention of the Mardi Gras. He was behaving the perfect gentleman. Acting as though he had just met her. It was damn insulting. She should get angry and do something, say something to shake his manly composure. He had made wild, passionate love to her, and now he was treating her like a casual acquaintance. Exasperated with her own contradictory thoughts, she eagerly accepted his invitation for a stroll. She couldn't keep things straight in her head. One minute she was praying that he would never refer to the night of Mardi Gras, and the next she was cursing him for pretending she had never spent the night in his arms.

The night was shimmering with stars. The Southern Cross was clearly visible, and Sebastian pointed it out to her. Silence fell between them. Royall sighed. If she had to play the game, she would. What an awful waste of time.

“What are you thinking of, Senora Banner?” His voice was a low-pitched purr.

“I was just thinking that home in New England, it is late February, and the full force of winter is holding fast. Here, it is eternal summer. It's hard to imagine a world so big it can have two seasons at the same time. New England always seemed the world to me. Now, here I am in Brazil on a riverboat, sailing up the Amazon to a city I'd not heard of till a few months ago. Traveling with Rosalie is an experience.” That should slow down your game a bit, Sebastian Rivera, she thought nastily.

“Yes, Rosalie Quince sees the world through the sharp eyes of a child. Every day is an adventure for her, and she shares that adventure with those around her.”

“I know exactly what you mean. When I first met her, she put me completely at ease. She is truly a great lady.” She wanted to scream, to beat at him with her fists. The last thing she wanted to talk about was Rosalie Quince.

“In more ways than you know. When Senora Quince came to Brazil years ago with her husband, Alonzo, she braved fever and famine to work at his side in the wild rubber forest. If it weren't for her strength and perseverance, Alonzo is the first to admit, he would have turned away from Brazil to find his fortune elsewhere. From wilderness and a thatched-roof hut Rosalie Quince carved a civilization out of the jungle. It was she who induced the Catholic missionaries to come to the wilds of the rubber forests to educate the Indians. It was she who founded the first hospital for Negroes and Indians. Manaus looks upon her as the grande dame of its society, and a dinner party during the social season is not a true success unless she makes an appearance.

“Rosalie Quince has worked hard all her life, and sometimes I think it rankles her to have so much leisure time on her hands. Still, I think if she had the opportunity, she would gladly wrap her head in a cloth and work in the fields alongside her Indians as she once did. She's a remarkable woman, and I, for one, consider myself fortunate to know her and be recognized by her.”

“I'm glad you have told me this about Mrs. Quince, Senor Rivera. Rosalie never would have revealed it herself; although I must admit I guessed at what you've told me. Only a woman who has known hardship can have the capacity for unselfish understanding. And this I found in Mrs. Quince. I've been the beneficiary of her maternal instincts. I've felt she privileged me by substituting me for her daughter Suzanne.”

“You're correct in considering yourself privileged. Tell me, how did she find Suzanne when she went to America?”

“Very well, I think, though I know she misses her sorely.”

A brisk breeze swept across the deck, and the dampness of the night air gave Royall an involuntary shiver.

Sun-bronzed hands gently tucked Royall's shawl more closely about her. How strong and capable his hands looked. The faint aroma of his cheroot and some tangy, unnamed scent wafted about her. She shivered, not with cold, but with memories.

Dark eyes stared down at her. Royall correctly interpreted the look and flushed, grateful for the near darkness. His voice, when he spoke, was mocking. “Come, Rosalie will never forgive me if I allow you to catch a chill.”

Royall lowered her eyes, feeling a glorious warmth steal over her, warmth from Sebastian's mocking eyes and tall, muscular body. Without warning, she found herself suddenly in his embrace. He said nothing as he brought his face close to hers, making her light-headed with excitement. Lightly, his lips grazed hers.

A current of emotions swept over Royall. Her body tingled; her pulses throbbed.

His lips were hard and demanding. Hungry. She responded, her lips as feverish as Sebastian's. Suddenly, he released her. Royall felt shaken. Surely he wanted more, just as she did. The brazen thought did nothing for her composure. She stared into dark eyes that held a promise. Was her own gaze also full of promise? Promise of ... of ... she refused to name the emotion that was sweeping all reason, all thoughts aside. She wanted this man. She knew without a doubt that her new life would never be complete unless Sebastian Rivera was entwined in the strands of her very being. He was her destiny. She could almost feel it, taste it filling her.

Their soft footfalls outside Rosalie Quince's stateroom made her smile. Then she heard Royall's stateroom door close and the sound of Sebastian's boots going back down the companionway to the rhythm of his satisfied whistling. Was a match in the making? If so, she was delighted. If not, as yet, she would give romance a helping hand. A gentle prod, so to speak. Sometimes Sebastian could be so mule-headed, especially when it came to women. Women like Royall Banner didn't enter a man's life every day of the week. In fact, rarely did they enter a man's life. There was something special about Royall, something that set her apart from the other women in Rosalie Quince's circle of friends. It wasn't her golden beauty either. What was it? Rosalie hated it when things or thoughts eluded her. Well, whatever it was that made the young woman different would come to her one of these days when she was least expecting it. She would forget the gentle prod and concentrate on a well-deserved kick in the right direction. That was something Sebastian would understand. Rosalie Quince sighed deeply, and much to her own amusement, she found that she missed the lumpy and narrow bunk in which she had slept during her long journey on the
Victoria.
“Ridiculous,” she chided herself. “How a body could miss that foul excuse for a bed is beyond me.”

Even as she muttered the words, she wriggled slightly, seeking the familiar hole which she had worked into the cotton mattress that served for bedding on the clipper ship.

Silently, reverently, Rosalie Quince whispered her evening prayers before closing her eyes. She had lain in bed resting until she heard the footsteps; then, knowing the girl was safe, she felt able to sleep.

According to habit, she saved her prayers for her last thoughts. While still a young girl, she had developed the knack of sorting her thoughts and mulling them over as one will do before sleep; then, when she felt all that could be done for the day was done, she would whisper her words to God and close her eyes for the night.

As she began her “God-blesses,” as she had done since she was a child, Suzanne's name came to her lips. Darling Suzanne, the only child of Rosalie's marriage. The journey to America, in spite of her cheerful demeanor, had been taxing and tedious. No longer young, Rosalie Quince nevertheless could not bear her daughter to endure childbirth among strangers. Even though the “strangers” were the girl's in-laws, Rosalie felt the need to protect Suzanne from whatever her new life cast her way and once again, perhaps for the last time, draw her daughter close and help her through the pain.

It was not easy for Mrs. Quince to admit to herself that perhaps she had seen her beloved daughter for the last time. After all, she was not young, and she could feel the hot, humid jungle drain away her strength more and more, year after year.

Her arms ached for Suzanne, and she could again see the slim, young girl standing on the wharf, waving good-bye. It remained unspoken between mother and child, the fear of never again holding close one who is loved so dearly.

A sound from the companionway shook Rosalie from her reverie. Aboard ship, Rosalie Quince had taken an immediate liking to her traveling companion, perhaps to defray the pain of being separated from Suzanne; nevertheless, Royall proved to be a young woman of warmth and charm.

Rosalie's maternal instincts, torn so savagely by her separation from Suzanne, were able to find refuge and comfort in the tutelage and protection of Royall Banner.

Finishing her “God-blesses,” Rosalie impatiently brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye, plumped her feather pillow, and fell back to render her keeping to the angels for the night.

 

Royall awakened leisurely. This had been the first night in several weeks that she had not felt herself cramped into a short, narrow bunk. She stretched her long, slim limbs, luxuriating in the feel of the fresh muslin sheets.

A feeling crept over her, one of happiness and anticipation. She had fallen asleep with the thoughts of the exciting evening she had spent with Sebastian Rivera and Mrs. Quince, and now she looked forward to another.

She lithely jumped from under the covers and hastened to make her ablutions as though she could not wait to face the day. Humming softly to herself, she rummaged through her trunks and cases looking for exactly the correct costume for her first day upon the luxurious Amazon steamer.