Into His Arms (26 page)

Today, he had a visitor, Father Tomás, and a small wooden chair had been brought in for the occasion. The thin, elderly priest and gaunt, young privateer eyed one another uneasily.

After a long silence, Tomás pulled his voluminous, brown robe about him, seated himself on the chair, and explained, “They sent for me because I speak fluent English. I do not know how much comfort I can give. I assume you are Protestant, but I will give you what comfort and counsel I can.”

Geoff lifted an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to attempt to convert me?”

“It has not been so very long since this was a seat of power for the Inquisition in the New World. Now, the government is more concerned with piracy than winning souls for the Church. The zealots that remain hate your kind so thoroughly they would just as soon let you burn in hell without redemption. No, I have no wish to convert you, unless you are moved to convert by your own conscience.”

Geoff cast a despairing look at the cold floor. “It is too late for redemption, Father.”

The priest put his hand on Geoff’s shoulder. “It is never too late, my son, not so long as you have breath to ask God’s mercy.”

“My breath will not last long. I have yet to go to trial, but I know I will die, and the only mercy I would have asked of God is long lost to me.”

“You must keep faith, my son.”

Geoff gave a strangled laugh at the irony of his statement. “I have lost Faith, Father.”

“You can find it again. Perhaps it is hard, here in a strange country, in a prison, but it is here that faith serves us most.”

“Nay. I turned my back on Faith, and when I would have returned, God saw fit to intervene.”

The priest furrowed his brow in confusion. “God does not keep us from our faith. It is our own selfish will and pride that come between the sacred and the temporal.”

“Aye, you have the right of it there. Selfish will and pride. Ah, Father, what have I done?”

“God will forgive you, my son. You have only to ask in the name of His son.”

“God may forgive me, but will Faith? I suppose you will think it blasphemy, but to be honest, that matters far more to me.” He buried his face in his hands, then raked his fingers through filthy, matted hair. “How can I forgive myself knowing that I turned my back on her, that I used her and cast her aside as though she were not the single greatest miracle of my life?”

“Faith?” The priest had never thought of faith as a woman, but having devoted his life to it, he found the notion appealingly romantic. A great miracle, aye, the satisfaction of living faithfully filled the soul beyond mere worldly gratification, but the forgiveness of faith? That he could not understand. Perhaps his English was in want of practice. “Do you ask if God forgives those who abandon faith?”

Geoff winced. “Abandoned, aye, that’s just what I did. It doesn’t matter, now. The Spanish captain will take care of her, if she will have him. I only hope that I did not destroy her trust. Surely she will see that he is far more worthy of her than ever I was.”

“I am sorry, my son. I do not seem able to follow your thoughts. A Spanish captain is more worthy of faith? Perhaps you do wish to convert?”

Smiling at his own folly, Geoff answered, “Nay, Father. I spoke more to myself than you. You are wasting your time here.”

Tomás smiled back. This young Englishman intrigued him, and at the moment, speaking with him seemed a more appealing use of his time than the mundane tasks that waited for him at the church. In the quiet of the prison they talked, and in ways that his more zealous brethren would never understand, he spoke of God as he experienced Him, beyond scripture, in the beauty of the earth and the goodness of the people he had come to know and love. It was this side of the sacred that seemed to speak to the young man whose soul was troubled and whose time was too short.

In turn, he learned of the woman named Faith, the one who had brought light into the darkness of the sea captain’s world. He listened without comment to the confession that poured forth and wished he could grant penitence and absolution as easily to Captain Hampton as he did to his parishioners.

“She sounds like she was a treasure.”

“Aye. If only I had believed myself worthy of such wealth.”

“But she has left you wealthy indeed. She taught you that there is something to this existence beyond its brief flicker upon this earth. And you taught her. You taught her that faith must be examined and thought about, that mere rote practice is not enough.”

At Geoff’s look of ironic disbelief, Tomás laughed. “I know, it seems most of what we Catholics do is by rote. It is ritual. Through the practice of the familiar, that which comes as second nature, the mind can actually clear and deeper examination becomes possible. I realize that not all Catholics use it for this purpose. Many a parishioner uses it as a time to go over her dinner menu or his duties in his work, but the truly devout pursue an endless quest for truth. You have been an important part in your love’s quest, and you will live on in that. Keep Faith in your heart, my son. I believe, from what you tell me, she will always keep you.”

“She gave me something else,” Geoff answered. “She gave me the ability to find common ground with a priest, of all people, to seek a friend when I needed one most, in a place I would have once never considered.”

Tomás rose and patted Geoff’s shoulder good-naturedly. “You are a skilled treasure hunter. I will come again later in the week. Would you like me to come to the trial?”

Geoff nodded. “Aye, I’d like that. I have always believed myself utterly self reliant, but I must admit, I would like a friend there when I learn of the time and manner in which I am to die.”

Tomás bid him farewell and returned to the bright sunshine and pale streets of Cartagena, but the Englishman stayed with him. He would very much like to meet the remarkable young woman who had nearly reformed the hardened pirate.

Chapter 23

Faith and Diego strolled past the lily pond in the rear courtyard, and she idly brushed her fingertips over the deep green and violet leaves of the dragon’s blood plants that edged the path. There was no breeze to stir the hem of her pale pink linen skirts, and sweat glistened on her brow and breast. She plucked a tiny, fluffy, magenta boa from a nearby pussy tail bush and twirled it absently. It seemed nearly impossible to concentrate on anything these days. She heard Diego’s voice, but it meant no more than the drone of bees. To his credit, he tried not to press her too hard, but she was ever aware that he was courting her.

“Would you like that?” he asked.

He paused for her answer, and the break in his speech pulled her attention back to what he was saying. “What?” she asked.

“I said, I know it is a rather long journey, but I thought you might like to see your family again. It is an easy enough matter to find passage on an English ship.”

Faith blanched. “Nay, I think that is not so wise. My aunt has sent them a letter to assure them of my safety, but I do not know if we will hear anything back or not. My father may well never forgive me.”

“I am sure your father loves you and only wants what is best for you.”

“I doubt he would think you are what is best.” At Diego’s crushed look, she rushed on. “You must remember that my aunt was disowned for marrying a Catholic. I may have cut myself off from my family forever. I wish I could know it was the right thing to do.”

“You told me that you could not marry your village priest, and that you could not stay and still avoid this fate.”

“Aye, that is so, but it has cost me much. I wonder if I shall ever find my place in the world.”

“You know that I would gladly give you a place at my side.”

“Diego, I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but I cannot.”

“Faith, I do not wish to press, but it has been over a fortnight since I returned to my uncle’s house, and in less than a week my ship will come for me. I do not expect you to be so fickle that you can dismiss your captain easily. Your feelings for him were deep, and it speaks well of you that your heart can be so true. But it also says something that, for once, it is not Hampton for whom you grieve. Perhaps, it is time to move forward.”

“My aunt says time heals all.”

“She is a wise woman, Elizabeth, but sometimes healing requires some other balm.” Faith turned to Diego with a quizzical look, and he took a breath and plunged ahead. “We have made good friends, Faith, and my mother once told me that, in the long run, friendship is the most important part of a marriage.”

“Diego, I do not think I am ready— “

“Nay, let me finish, please. I love you, Faith. I have already told you this. You like me, also,
sí
?”

“Aye. You have been a good friend, Diego, and patient, as well.”

“You do not find me unpleasant to look upon?”

Faith laughed. “Nay, Diego. You are a most handsome man.”

A smile lit his face, and he drew her down with him onto a bench beneath the wide, scarlet-tipped poinsiana tree. “Many a happy marriage has begun with less than this, Faith. I know I told you I would wait, but I must return to sea soon, and I would have you with me.”

“Perhaps if we had more time...”

“My love, I must speak plainly, though it may cause you pain. We can spend every minute of the day with one another, and it will avail us naught if you continue to lend your thoughts to a man who will soon be as much a ghost in reality as he is in your life. He left you. He is facing the fate that he has chosen. Your life must go on. I will work very hard to make you happy, Faith. This I promise.”

He held his breath through her silence. He was right, of course. Her life would go on without Geoff, and it seemed to her that she would not be so unhappy with Diego.

“Where would I live when we are apart?” she asked.

As though he had anticipated this concern, he replied, “I thought perhaps Havana. It is an easy journey by boat to Jamaica, so you could visit here often. Your Spanish is coming along. If you lived among those who speak it, you would learn quickly.”

“But your family is in Spain.”

“They see me seldom anyway. They will hardly notice a difference. Of course, I would take you to meet them.”

“And my religion?”

At this, Diego’s discomfort was hard to conceal. “You once said that Catholicism was not out of the question.”

“Aye, but I did not say that I was certain.”

“You will have things to think about. That is only prudent. You must decide whether or not you can pledge yourself to my church and whether you can be happy in Cuba, and these are not trifles. Still, I ask you to think on this. I would be a faithful husband. I would give you a good home and beautiful children. I would do everything in my power to make you love me and to provide for your happiness. Perhaps what you once found with your Englishman you could, one day, find with me.”

“I will think on it,” she replied. In truth, she was tiring of the limbo in which her life had become suspended. She felt restless, ready to move on. It seemed as though she teetered upon some precipice.

Diego leaned forward and tilted her face to his, pausing long enough for her to divine his intent. When she uttered no protest and made no move to retreat, he touched his lips to hers.

Some other balm besides time
; this was Faith’s thought as she allowed Diego’s kiss to deepen. There was no doubt that there was a physical component to the love between a woman and a man, and if she were going to consider Diego, they should cultivate this between them as well as friendship.

She felt his warm lips upon her, parted her own to welcome his tongue, tasted the faint flavors of mango and masculinity. She heard his breath quicken, felt his arms embrace her, but she was an observer, strangely detached. Though she waited, expected some spark to ignite, it did not.

He pulled away from her, and the desperate disappointment in his eyes confirmed that he had noticed her failure to respond. “What you shared with Captain Hampton has wrapped itself tightly around you,” he murmured passionately against her cheek, as he placed light kisses along her jaw. “I would free you, if you would let me.”

She straightened and went rigid. “What are you suggesting?”

He kept her hands in his and rushed to explain. “I would not ask this of you, but it seems you think only of him in my arms. I will marry you if you will have me. I am not asking you to be my mistress, but I would have you think only of me. If you would let me truly show you how I feel, I think you would see that you could feel it, too.”

Pulling her hands from his and rising, Faith turned her back to him and took a few steps to place some distance between them. “You’re asking me to sleep with you?”

“I would gladly wait, but I am afraid that if I wait too long, I will lose you. God will forgive us. My patron saint, she will understand. She will intervene.”

“Your...?”

“Never mind. We will talk later. Now is not the time for talk, Faith.”

“What if it does not work? I have no desire to hurt you. I do like you, I do, but what if Geoff was the love of my life? What if I can never feel for you what I felt for him? It wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve a woman who can return your love unfettered. You are worthy of more than a woman whose body betrayed you long before she met you.”

He closed the distance and pulled her close. Looking fiercely into her eyes he cried, “
¡No importa!
It does not matter! I told you that I do not care what happened before. I will gladly take whatever you have to offer, but give us a chance.”

He kissed her again with reckless passion, and Faith forced her mind to go blank, allowed herself to be led, abdicated the responsibility inherent in conscious thought.

Miguel and Elizabeth were visiting a neighbor for the rest of the afternoon, and she doubted any of the slaves would dare to carry tales. He pulled her toward the house, and she followed. She looked at nothing but her feet as they peeped out from her skirts with her long strides, then counted the stairs and studied the pattern in the rug that covered the upper gallery floor. Anything to keep her mind from engaging in the moment.