The Marriage Bargain (15 page)

Beckett smiled at her as the wind whipped his tawny hair. The effect was stunning. The sunlight lit his eyes and hair, and as he stared at her, Isobel was unable to look away.

“I have been well prepared by Captain Mayfield for the way of life here in the tropics,” Isobel said, meeting Beckett’s eyes. “Perhaps I might even teach you a thing or two.”

“I look forward to being your pupil.” He gave her a playful look.

Isobel turned toward the dock as the ship approached. She did not want to think about what he might want her to teach.

She stared at the long wooden dock and watched the men, both Europeans dressed as they might be in London and native workers loading various cargo.

The ship docked smoothly, its sailors all working in tandem to tie the lines. Some of their cargo was unloaded at once before the passengers began to disembark.

Isobel lifted Captain Black into her arms to say her goodbyes. She’d become fond of the surly animal during the journey, as had Beckett, with his natural affinity for animals. She smiled as she thought of the lovely sketches she had made of both Beckett and the cat. Would she stare wistfully at them in years to come, when she and her husband were finally able to live out their separate lives?

Captain Mayfield approached from across the deck.

“My dear Mrs. Cox,” the captain began. “It seems that Captain Black has grown tired of a seafaring life and now seeks employment on land. Could you perhaps find a suitable position for him at your new residence?”

Isobel looked at Captain Mayfield and then Beckett, who grinned and said, “My wife and I would like nothing more.”

Isobel stroked the cat’s soft fur. “But Captain Mayfield, how can you be sure that Captain Black has given up the sea?”

“Oh, I am quite sure of it.” The old man nodded. “You see, I just left him in my cabin, having locked the door but a moment ago. And now, here he is in your arms.”

Everyone looked at Captain Black for some explanation, but the cat merely blinked at them.

“Apparently, he has grown quite attached to you, my dear. Considering his experience with obeah, he will no doubt be adept at protecting you from any island mischief.” Mayfield cocked an eyebrow at Isobel in confirmation.

Isobel nuzzled the cat before the captain gently placed him inside a carrying basket.

“Now, you must promise to stay in your basket, Captain Black. Please.” Mayfield shook his finger at the cat inside and then fastened the lid.

Beckett shook hands with the man. “Thank you for delivering us so expertly, Captain.”

“It has been a pleasure, sir.”

Guided by Beckett, Isobel made her way down the boarding plank and onto the dock. She turned to wave, but Captain Mayfield was gone, doubtless seeing to some part of the ship’s business.

“We’ll miss Captain Mayfield, won’t we, Captain Black?” she said to the meowing creature in the basket, as she followed Beckett down the length of the dock.

Beckett looked back at her over his shoulder. “Quite an elaborate story just to get rid of a cat. I suppose he wouldn’t have known we’d be happy to adopt the creature. I must say, I miss being away from Monty and Caesar. Captain Black shall be good company for us.”

One of the men from Ravenwood’s Barbados property stood beside the waiting coach, hat in hand.

“Lord Ravenwood,” he said, bowing, “Hal Cobb, sir, at your service.”

“Mr. Cobb, may I present my wife, Lady Ravenwood.” Beckett took her hand and brought her a step forward.

“M’lady.”

Isobel fanned herself as the man made his bows to her. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr.

Cobb. Tell me, is it always this hot on the island?”

“Oh, no, m’lady. It’s usually much hotter.”

Isobel glanced at Beckett and saw him grin.

“I told you Barbados was not for the faint of heart,” was all he said.

“So you did.” She purposely closed her fan. “I shall have no trouble at all, then.”

Beckett chuckled and handed her up into the carriage. Soon they rolled into motion and started down the rough dirt road.

Her fan did not stay closed for long. Much to her dismay, Isobel’s entire body quickly developed a sheen of perspiration. As soon as she discreetly wiped some away from her forehead, it was instantly replaced.

Her light muslin dress stuck to her like glue and most likely showed off far too much of her body. Isobel fanned herself energetically. It gave some relief.

She noticed that Beckett was also covered in sweat, and wiping at his forehead from time to time with a handkerchief. At last, he caught her staring at him.

She quickly looked out the window. Captain Black meowed loudly and scrambled about inside his carrier like he was possessed.

As they traveled down the road, Isobel tried to focus on the beautiful countryside to take her mind off the heat. They left St. Michael and Bridgetown, and entered the district of St. James, which would be her home for the next while.

Outside, all around them bloomed flowers in colors Isobel had never seen before, with trees and various plants in such strange sizes and shapes, she wondered at nature’s handiwork.

Questions and observations tumbled out of her like rambunctious children.

“—What is that tree?”

“—That flower, do you know what is it called?”

“—What an odd looking fruit! Surely no one eats such a thing.”

Beckett patiently pointed out banana and fig trees, but he was silently chuckling at her, she was quite sure. He also identified mangoes, sugar apples and hog plums—all hanging in the thick boughs like richly colored jewels. The smell of their sweet scents on the breeze made Isobel long to stop and pick some of the succulent fruit.

The sky above them was a bright, warm blue—the same color as Beckett’s eyes, Isobel noticed. Huge puffy clouds decorated the expanse of sky like dollops of clotted cream. This mysterious place was like a spell cast to invade all the senses at once. The sights, sounds and smells were almost impossible to resist.

She turned and saw that Beckett’s gaze was fixed firmly on her, but as usual it was unreadable.

“Such untamed splendor often has an intense effect on the human heart, does it not?” he asked quietly.

“I do not know, as I have had no experience in such matters.”

“I daresay that during our time on Barbados, you shall experience a great many things to remedy such a misfortune.”

Isobel opened her mouth to reply, but squealed as something quite large flew by the window. “Oh my!

Whatever was that?”

She leaned closer to the window and almost bumped heads with Beckett as he did the same. They laughed, and Beckett pointed through the open window to the treetops.

“You see up there, in the tree? Those are wild macaws. A macaw is a rather colorful type of parrot.”

Isobel located the beautiful birds sitting high in the branches overhead.

“Oh, Beckett. It’s as though someone has painted them by hand! But Caesar is not colored so.”

“He would surely have something quite nasty to say on the subject.” Beckett chuckled, sitting back. “We can count our blessings that it’s Captain Black we have with us instead.”

The carriage turned down a long drive. In the distance, Isobel could see Ravenwood Hall. It was surrounded by a magnificent lawn and exotic gardens, with palm trees standing tall overhead. Behind it, the vast sugar fields stretched out of sight.

They pulled up in front of the large, two-story house, which was surrounded by a verandah on both levels. Constructed of an unusual pink-colored stone, the house was offset by bright white shutters that flanked its long windows. Though the architecture copied the English style, the house seemed far more exotic than anything found in the British Isles.

The house staff of Ravenwood Hall stood at attention outside before the steps, waiting to greet the new earl and countess. Beckett handed Isobel out of the carriage as Mr. Cobb prepared to introduce them to the staff.

Various male and female servants peered at them curiously, all seeming to be native islanders. There was a mature butler with a white beard, beside him a substantial woman whom Isobel took to be the housekeeper, and a few young girls who made up the rest of the household staff.

Mr. Cobb introduced the butler first. “This is Isaac.”

The man made his bows, and spoke in a raspy voice. “It is a pleasure to welcome the new lord and lady to Ravenwood.”

“It is a pleasure to be here, Isaac,” Beckett replied.

“This is Josephine,” Mr. Cobb said. “The housekeeper of Ravenwood Hall.”

Beckett nodded at the woman. Her high cheekbones and intimidating stare made Isobel feel as if she herself should be making a curtsy to Josephine, not the other way around.

“Welcome, m’lord,” she said in a voice as dark and rich as coffee. She curtsied with a regal air, just as Isobel had imagined she would.

“Thank you, Josephine. I am sure our stay here will be very enjoyable now that we are in your capable hands.”

The woman nodded silently.

“May I introduce my wife, Lady Ravenwood. And this is her cat, Captain Black.”

Isobel smiled as Josephine looked suspiciously at the meowing basket she held.

“You ‘ave Captain Black in dat basket?” Josephine raised her eyebrows.

Surprised, Isobel nodded.

“Captain Black is famous in dese islands,” she whispered to Isobel, then let out a booming laugh as she pointed towards the door. “Come inside, now, come inside!”

Isobel looked to Beckett for direction. He responded by putting her hand through his arm, and leading her through the doorway.

The interior of the house was stylish but not ornate. It had been decorated in vibrant colors too outrageous for London, but perfectly suitable for this island manor house. There were the usual comforts of home—a salon, a dining room, a small library. In each room, lovely arrangements of native flowers and plants made the house look and smell like a garden.

“We should like some tea in the salon please, Josephine,” Beckett said.

Josephine smiled and nodded. “Yes, m’lord.”

“Well, what do you think of your new home, Isobel?”

She turned to look at Beckett as she lifted Captain Black out of the basket, and felt a wave of mixed feelings wash over her. The house was lovely. Barbados was a paradise on Earth. Beckett was a kind and dutiful husband. But the circumstances that had brought her here cast a dark shadow over the island’s beauty, and over their marriage of convenience as well.

“I think it very beautiful, Beckett. Very beautiful, indeed.”

“That does not sound very convincing. Come, let there be no more secrets between us, Lady Ravenwood. We have surely had enough of those.”

Beckett’s words stung.

“I meant what I said. This island, this home is indeed beautiful. I was only saddened by the memory of what brought us here in the first place. And you are right, Beckett. Secrets have no place in a marriage.

Even a marriage such as ours. And yet I find it strange to hear you say such a thing, when you yourself do not practice what you preach.”

Beckett’s eyes blazed for a moment. Then a barrier went up, cloaking their fire from view.

“You see? Even now you keep your feelings hidden from me.”

“Perhaps it is for your own good, my dear.” He stepped toward her, letting the fire in his eyes blaze freely once more.

“So you are a hypocrite, then. You are allowed to keep secrets from me, and yet you are unable to forgive me for keeping those I did from you—even though I felt my life depended on it.”

“I am doing my best to be a dutiful husband, Isobel.”

“Oh, yes. You are very dutiful indeed. A perfect gentleman, in fact. You treat me more like a sister than a wife.”

Beckett stepped closer and pulled her up in front of him. “And what would you have me do, little wife?

Hmm? What would you have me do?”

Isobel opened her mouth to reply, but Beckett silenced her with his lips. His arms went around her, pulling her hard against his strong, muscled body. He parted her lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss until Isobel felt her legs would no longer hold her upright. She grabbed onto him for balance.

He broke the kiss, looking down at her with an intensity that threatened to ignite her like kindling where she stood.

Then, without so much as a glance over his shoulder, he turned and hurried from the room.

Alone in his new bed, Beckett was unable to sleep. His mind kept settling on Isobel. Every time he closed his eyes, it seemed he saw her with her hair spread out on a pillow, her body riding the waves of pleasure as he filled her with his own.

He flipped over onto his side, punched the pillow to make it comfortable—though it was not in the least bit uncomfortable at all—and closed his eyes again.

There she was, on her side with her back pressed against him, gasping as he entered her. His hands roamed over her breasts as he thrust into her… teased their hard peaks…. reached down to stroke between her thighs as she moaned and—

Damnation! This would not do at all. Not at all. But the insistent hardness of his manhood would not go away.

He flipped over again onto his other side, determined to purge his mind of these tempting, vexing thoughts. But then the memory of kissing her so passionately in the salon jumped into his brain, along with the silken texture of her skin, the smell of her hair, and the maddening pleasure of her kiss.

It was no use. He was fighting a losing battle with his base desires. Determined to clear his mind, Beckett rose and lit a candle, electing to read Milton’s Paradise Lost. Perhaps that distraction would cleanse the impure thoughts from his head.

He read a few pages, and then felt his mind drift back to the woman who had been nothing but trouble since he’d found her that night in the rubbish heap.

Isobel.

The woman who plagued his thoughts day and night. The woman who ignited his desires and made them burn with blazing heat. The woman who had lied to him about everything in her past.

His wife.

Devil take it, he was trying to keep their agreement. And she did nothing but upset his plans at every turn.