True Heart (11 page)

Cameron had replied by telling Lottie to find some other minion to do her bidding. He'd taken Virginia's hand and announced to Lottie that he was going sailing.

He'd stood up to Lottie as no one else.

“What amuses you?” he asked.

From her heart, she said, “I was thinking that you must be very proud of this ship.”

He stood taller.

Crewmen roamed the deck, some dressed in ordinary seaman's clothes, some in colorful tartans. Virginia longed to ask Cameron how it was that they were allowed to wear their plaids, but that too would have to wait. Several of the men doffed their caps or raised a hand in greeting. In the dim light, she couldn't match faces to memories. “Should I know any of these men?”

“Only MacAdoo and the cook. One voyage to China was enough for my father's crew. They preferred the shorter voyages.”

Worldwise perfectly suited him. “You've been to China?”

“Aye, that is one of the reasons we parted in anger. I told you I was going to France, but I lied and made the first of many voyages to the East.”

The information settled like a blanket over Virginia, and the strangest thought captured her. All those years ago, she'd learned French for nothing.

“ 'Twasn't humorous, Virginia.”

Her reaction and his was the kind of honest exchange they had shared as children. He, with his dreams of owning a fleet of ships, and she, with her grand idea of becoming the greatest cartographer of their time. If shown a map of America today and asked to point out the location of Poplar Knoll, she would have failed.

The rest will come.

She stared up at the crow's nest. “I think that I am still rather naive.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Enough of Agnes's company and
that
will change.”

He'd certainly changed. That once skinny neck was thick with muscles, and his voice was full and rich with a man's confidence. “Agnes is your favorite of the MacKenzie women.”

“Nay.” His gaze moved to her mouth, and he smiled. “You have always been my pick of the litter.”

By force of habit, she hadn't included herself. Cameron had, and the sweetness of his words went straight to her heart. The smoldering look in his eye affected her in a much more earthy way. “I could tell Agnes you said that . . . about the litter.”

“Not you.” His attention wavered and settled on a spot behind her. “Never have you tattled on me. We were always loyal to each other.”

They were joined by a man she did not recognize.

“She's river right, Captain.”

“Forbes, meet Virginia MacKenzie.”

“A pleasure, my lady.”

The respect in the man's tone gave her confidence. “It's mine, I'm sure, Mr. Forbes.”

“Carry on then.” Cameron guided Virginia to the bow.

She went willingly, his romantic declaration echoing in her ears. She had stood here in this very spot, on the port side, a carefree child. She'd sat on a coil of ropes and charted the coastline of Dornock Firth.

“Do you remember something of the past?”

From out of the sky swooped a merlin falcon, its pointed wings beating a strong steady path above the plane of the river. Holding onto the rail and watching the river rush toward the sea, she experienced her first true taste of freedom. “Just a joyous feeling.” More than joy filled her. Volition and independence awaited her.

“Many an afternoon did we pass on this brig. You mapped the Orkney Isles until your fingers turned blue with the cold. My father made you go below.”

“Where are those maps?”

“Agnes has them.”

“You named your ship for me.”

“Aye, and looked everywhere for you.” He frowned. “I promised that I would.”

Loyalty to her or to the youthful pact they'd made troubled him. Had he given his heart elsewhere? Staring up at him, at his strong profile limned in pale moonlight, Virginia felt an envy that pierced her heart. Other women had admired him, had been courted by him, had shared moments such as these. But he was to have been hers, her partner in love, her companion for life.

A shiver of longing spread through her. She thought of the years they'd missed, of the times to come, and when he maneuvered her behind the ship's lifeboat and kissed her, Virginia thought she might swoon again. She'd fainted at the sound of his name. She had no defense against the security of his embrace. Captured completely, his mouth moving tenderly on her, she felt sheltered and protected and melancholy. This was to have been her place in life, this man her own. But they'd missed so much.

Pain, hot and heavy, squeezed her chest, and when tears threatened to burst, she clung to him. She couldn't let herself cry; once begun, the tears might never stop. What would be left of her then, save the shattered remnants of a foolish girl's pride?

Much better that she put her mind to her first kiss, given by the man who had always been hers and shared on the deck of his dream ship. Other memories flooded her, but the images were innocent and playful, not this yearning that strummed deep in her belly, the need of a woman for her man.

Drawing back, he whispered against her temple. “I cannot get close enough to you.”

She couldn't hold back a sob.

He squeezed her tighter, and the pain of longing ebbed, replaced by a desire that had nothing to do with childhood promises and everything to do with a woman's need for her man.

“ 'Twas your first kiss.”

Pride drove her to say, “No.”

His fingers skimmed down her arms and to her hands. A frown marred his forehead.

“Why are you looking at me that way?”

He squeezed her left hand. “Because you always held your hand just so when you told a lie.”

He'd remembered her secret fist, and before that, her inexperience had been obvious. Now she had to scramble for an excuse or tell him the truth. “I did? I'm encouraged by that.”

Cameron studied her. Those blue eyes had once gazed at him in friendship; now they shone with a lover's desire. He had expected her to grow into a beauty; she had her mother's fine brow and lush femininity. From the duke, she'd gotten her elegant nose and proud chin. But from where had the hesitance come? MacKenzie women were known for their independence and forthright manner. But more than that, he noticed a stillness in Virginia, a direct contrast to the lively girl she'd been. When he'd spied her shadow behind the lace screen, he'd been too anxious to take notice of it. He'd also been intrigued by her feminine form.

Women were scarce on this side of the Atlantic. How had a horde of colonial men left so beautiful a woman alone? Cameron didn't know. “Why would you be encouraged by an old habit?”

“Because it tells me I did not lie often or you would have known it.”

“I'd've known anyway, so close were we.”

He put action to the words and pulled her close. She wanted to yield, to explore the feelings his kiss inspired.

“That's a lass.”

He'd read her lusty thoughts. That wouldn't do. She drew back.

“What's wrong, Virginia?”

“I hardly know you.”

“ 'Tis the easiest of matters to change. And a task I fairly relish. Put your arms around my neck, Virginia.”

She did and rose on tiptoe. He had a moment to consider the propriety of his actions. But convention didn't count where this woman was concerned: She was his, and when their lips touched again, time spun away. She followed his lead, but that had always been so. He traced her feminine curves and wondered why she bothered with a corset. Picturing her without it, with no clothing, sent his passion higher.

“Let her go, Cameron.”

Agnes's voice sliced the silence, and Cameron tensed. He wanted to nestle Virginia beside him in his bunk as a prelude to making love to her.

He broke the kiss but held Virginia near. “Be gone, Agnes.”

“Nay. May I remind you that now is not the time to dust off your betrothal to my sister. She doesn't know you, and you cannot take advantage of that. Other
matters
must first be settled or dissolved. Isn't that so? You haven't forgotten those other matters?”

She was speaking of his longtime affair with Adrienne Cholomondeley. “The only thing I'm certain of is that I'd like to strangle you.”

“I'm surprised you would risk that with Virginia looking on.”

Damn Agnes for being right. “For Virginia, I will risk much.”

“Wait for Papa.”

“Wait for what?” Virginia asked.

“For ravishing of any kind.”

Virginia gasped, and Cameron cursed. “Ravishment is not foremost in my mind,” he said to Agnes.

“No?”

“No. I think Virginia will steal my heart before she ravishes me.”

Virginia laughed. “May I sleep on the ship tonight?”

“Virginia!”

Holding tightly to him, she faced her sister. “I'm sorry. I meant, may I stay here alone in one of the cabins. I'm not a woman of loose morals, I swear I'm not. But I don't recall ever sleeping anywhere except Poplar Knoll. Maybe being here will help me remember the past.”

Several scented letters from Adrienne and a miniature were among the papers in his cabin. He couldn't let Virginia find it. “I'll settle her in MacAdoo's cabin.”

Agnes stood her ground. “I'll settle myself in yours.”

“Oh, I couldn't inconvenience either of you.”

Agnes laughed, but Cameron knew the humor was feigned. “Truth to tell,” she said, “the bed in my room is too soft. I've spent weeks aboard this bucket. Now that I've had a bath, I rather miss this ship.”

Cameron gave up the argument. Kissing Virginia had stirred a mighty need in him. He knew he couldn't sleep. So he excused himself and walked to the gardens.

A stranger slipped from the shadows.

“Who are you?” Cameron demanded.

“Rafferty, my lord. Best cooper in the tidewater.”

“What do you want?”

“Only to tell you that I was here the day they brought her up river. No taller'n my shoulder she was.”

“She?”

He tipped his head toward the ship. “The one you came for. For a price I'll tell you things she don't want you to know.”

Virginia remembered everything. No fall from a horse had stolen her past.

Cameron paused on the stairs, his mind still reeling from what he'd learned from Rafferty, the cooper, the night before. Until Quinten Brown had delivered the news that Cameron was on his way to America, Virginia had lived in the slave hamlet. Until Cameron had set foot on this wretched land, she had worked in the fields.

The design on the cask
had
been a plea, not a silent signal, but a calculated risk and a cry for help. His legs suddenly weak, Cameron sat down and leaned against the banister. Unless the cooper had lied. According to Rafferty, the then ten-year-old Virginia had told them who she was. Moreland, the prior owner, hadn't believed her. With the entire population of Poplar Knoll looking on, he had laughed and cruelly named her Duchess. Duchess, a mockery of her heritage. The painting in the salon was her work.

What had driven her to lie? Cameron didn't know, couldn't think of a logical reason for the deception. She disavowed all knowledge of her heritage and lied about the life she'd lived here in Virginia. Did fear or pride or both lie at the heart of it? Surely so.

A door closed in the hall, and footsteps sounded. Knowing how odd he appeared, his long frame sprawled on the stairs, he sprang to his feet and descended to the first floor.

Mrs. Parker-Jones appeared in the hallway and moved to the front door. Using a key from the bulky ring at her waist, she unlocked the door and opened the drapes in the entryway.

Housekeeper's work.

Virginia wasn't the housekeeper. Not until recently. She'd worked the fields. Had Cameron not seen the cask and come for her, she would have served another three years. Would she have come to him then, or would he have received a message from Lachian MacKenzie saying that she had been found? What turns would Cameron's life have taken in that time? He stared at the rug and contemplated the monumental mistake he would have made in marrying Adrienne.

“Captain Cunningham?”

Turning, he saw Mrs. Parker-Jones in the doorway, her hands behind her back. Until recently, this woman had not only kept her own house, she had ruled Virginia's life. Mrs. Parker-Jones, a keeper of slaves, an owner of souls.

“Are you ill, sir?”

Cameron swallowed back revulsion and gathered his wits. “I'm fine, Mrs. Parker-Jones. How are you this morning?”

“Thank you, I'm well. Will you take coffee or tea before breakfast?”

Taking her to the river and tossing her in sounded appealing. But her injustice to Virginia was in the past. The sin of her other immoral practices was hers to bear. Now this woman aided Virginia. Why? Did she fear the wrath of the MacKenzies? Probably.