Beauty's Curse Page 12

  “Be careful,” she called as he rose higher and higher. Her throat constricted, growing tighter the farther he climbed. If he fell… She stepped back a few paces, as if that would somehow protect him from her curse. No! I am not cursed. She simply had to get used to the idea.

  Near the top of the palm tree, David stopped and let out a whoop. “A ship,” he shouted down to her. “It’s sailing to an island not too far off.”

  Thank God! She jumped for the sheer joy of it and sloshed water all over the front of her shift. Her mind raced. How could they get the attention of the ship? A fire? Could they row to the vessel before it sailed away? But, their boat had a leak. It would have to be repaired before they could go anywhere.

  “There’s a light on the island, guiding the ship to shore,” David yelled from his perch.

  Which meant someone lived on that island, someone who had contact with the outside world. They were saved! Assuming they could fix their boat. Even so, excitement rippled through her, making her want to dance and sing…until she saw David’s hold on the tree slip. She cried out and raced toward him as he slid several feet, then regained his grip.

  “I’m fine,” he assured her, descending to the bottom and hopping to the ground. Raw scrapes lined the inside of his arms and along one calf, but he gave them no heed. He looked up at the sky and the elation on his face dulled. “It’ll be dark soon. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find what I need to make pine pitch in order to seal the crack in our boat.” David retrieved the coconuts he’d left on the ground. “In the meantime, we can quench our thirst. Come on. Let’s go.” He led the way the way back to the beach.

  She followed, but all too soon her feet became sluggish and heavy.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, slowing his pace.

  Once they left this island, their time together would soon end. Unless… “If we find a way to the other island, will you be returning to London?” She desperately wanted to see her family again, to make things right with them. Perhaps she and David could go to England together.

  “No, I have no intention of ever returning.” A frown flickered. “Amelia, what happened between us at the pond… We shouldn’t have—”

  She held up a hand. She couldn’t bear to hear him finish. “This has nothing to do with that,” she lied.

  “You deserve so much more,” he finished anyway.

  Yes, yes. He’d said that before. What rubbish. His sorry excuse stemmed from his father’s criticism. “Why won’t you go back to London?” she pressed.

  David turned and marched on ahead. “My father wouldn’t want me back.”

  “How can you say such a thing?” she asked as she trailed behind him. “He must have been incredibly relieved when you returned from Madagascar.”

  “I haven’t been to London since I left on my father’s ship.”

  “Oh, David.” She could only imagine his family’s worry, the despair that they might never see him again. “You must assure your family that you’re safe. They may be searching for you.”

  “After a year? Not likely.” His strides lengthened, and she had to hurry to catch up.

  “Surely your father will be thankful to see you survived your capture no matter what stood between the two of you before. Besides, what of your brother and sisters? I am sure your family cares about you. You should—”

  “The man they care about no longer exists. Who I am now…” They reached the shore, and David headed for the pile of ash left from their last fire. “It’s better if they believe I’m dead.”

  How could he say such a thing? “Are you trying to punish your father?”

  David didn’t reply as he set down his coconuts and threw fresh kindling onto the ash.

  She placed the coconuts she carried next to his. He could be so stubborn when he wanted to be. “Or are you punishing your family for not standing up to him on your behalf?” she needled.

  “Fine.” A muscle in his jaw flexed and tensed. “I’ll send a letter. In fact, you can take it to them for me.”

  “A letter? That’s hardly the same.” Whether her objection was solely for the benefit of his family or if it stemmed from the ache in her chest, she couldn’t say. His suggestion that she ferry the letter… She would be going back to England without him and would likely never see him again. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat. “If not England, where will you go?”

  He used his flint and dagger to spark a fire. “I suppose I could return to The Wanderer, if I ever find it again.”

  Return to the life of a pirate and a thief. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. “You’re better than those men you call brethren.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. The simple fact that you didn’t side with them when they cast me off attests to your honor.”

  He struck his blade with the flint again, the spark catching on the dry tinder and burning it away. “At least there I’m treated as an equal, as a man.”

  “If you face your father and tell him—”

  “No. It isn’t only the resentment toward my father that’s keeping me from him.” David rubbed a hand over his face and uttered a low curse.

  She kneeled beside him and placed a hand on his arm. “Tell me.”

  Rich brown eyes filled with shame met hers.

  “Please,” she prompted. Whatever he was holding back was eating him up inside, that much she could sense.

  “When I finally escaped the prince…” His voice hitched, and his gaze dropped to the sand.

  “Go on.”

  “I worried that the guards would pursue me, and as I passed through a nearby forest, I heard footsteps, so I hid.” His nostrils flared with his next breath and his jaw grew rigid once more. “The sound came closer and closer until it was upon me… I panicked and used my lance to run the man through.” His eyes glistened, and his chin quivered. “I ran from the place, but when I looked back…”

  His sadness brought a tear to her eye, and she wrapped her arms around him.

  David held her in a desperate grip. “His wife and son saw it all. They mourned over his body. He wasn’t a guard, just a man with his family, and I killed him.” David’s chest shook as he gasped for air.

  “You couldn’t have known.” Amelia stroked his spine, her heart hurting with him.

  “Tell that to the boy who lost his father.”

  “Oh, David.”

  He pulled away and wiped his cheeks with the back of one hand. “My father always told me what a worthless man I’d become. Little did he know—”

  “No.” She took his chin in her hand and directed his face toward her own. “Your father is wrong, and always has been. Since the day we met, you’ve been nothing but brave and thoughtful. Truth be told, you are the finest man I’ve ever known.”

  The pain in his features lifted a bit. “You have brightened my world in more ways than I can say. I’m very lucky to have met you.” He cradled her head in his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. “Thank you. You’ve been a good friend, one I will sorely miss.”

  He hadn’t changed his mind. He wouldn’t be going to London. She could see it in his eyes. They would part as friends. They’d never promised each other more. It should be enough. But it wasn’t, and it never would be.

  Chapter Twelve

  David sat in the sand before the brilliant sunrise. He drew his bow across the violin strings and reveled in the melody he played.

  In the meadow by the stream

  All our days spent in dreams

  A joyful life for you and me

  My true love, Guinevere

  The music flowed from him even as his mind wandered. He should be collecting the pine pitch ingredients he’d need to repair the boat. Why he delayed remained a mystery.

  A movement from their crude shelter caught his eye and a mussed beauty emerged from within. He brought the violin to his lap as the mystery revealed itself. To spend a few more moments with the lovely creature walking his way, he’d delay the repairs for
ever. She helped him remember the person he once was, the one who had enjoyed the beauty in life, the one who was carefree and happy. With Amelia near, glimmers of that man came through.

  “Don’t stop,” she insisted once she’d nearly reached him.

  He rose to his feet and brushed the sand from his backside. “I’ve already played so long my fingers have grown sore. Time to stop, for now.”

  As they strolled back to their shelter, she stared up at him, a curious look on her face. “You’ve shaved.”

  He rubbed a hand over his smooth jaw. For some reason, this morning had been the first time in a long while that he’d cared to take note of his appearance. “Do you like it?”

  Her slight smile brightened her face almost as much as her rising blush. “I do.”

  Satisfaction swelled in his chest. “I have something for you.”

  “You do?”

  He strode ahead toward their spent campfire where he’d left his prize. Once there, he picked up a spiny, green oblong ball the size of a small muskmelon and presented it to her like the finest gift. “It’s a fruit called soursop. I’ve heard The Wanderer’s crew speak of it.”

  Although his stomach had been eating a path to his spine since he’d found the fruit, Amelia’s reaction was well worth the wait. Her eyes grew large, and a delighted smile graced her lips.

  “Come. Let’s eat.” Planting himself on the ground, he patted the spot next to him, then used his knife to slice into the soursop, exposing white pulp with black seeds.

  Amelia sat, and he handed her half. He took a bite and motioned for her to do the same.

  She sank her teeth into the smooth white pulp and groaned. “Delicious.”

  Indeed. The fruit was sweet with a tart bite. They ate with relish, not wasting a morsel. Well, except for the seeds. He finished first and watched Amelia enjoy her meal.

  A pretty blush pinkened her cheeks, and she paused, clearing her throat. “Tell me, where did you learn to play so well? You have great talent.”

  David bowed his head. He hadn’t heard a compliment in so long he wasn’t sure what to do with one anymore, so he focused instead on answering her question. “When I was a small boy, I saw an old man on the street play with such skill, I told my mother I wanted to learn, and she arranged lessons for me. She even bought me this violin.”

  “Your father had no issue with that?”

  “He was a happier man then.” How odd to remember. He’d almost forgotten those days. “My mother could have talked him into anything… He adored her.” They all had.

  “What was she like?”

  He looked at Amelia again, her cheeks returning to their normal shade as she finished her fruit. “She was a lot like you…understanding and kind, friendly… She never met a person she didn’t like. She could always find some admirable quality in everyone she came into contact with. Which I suppose explains how she ended up with my father.” Her death had been the worst thing to happen to their family. For those first few months, his father had drunk to excess and hidden himself away. He’d barely looked at his children, especially David, the youngest, the one she’d been the closest to. “Maybe that’s why he resented me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mother and I were inseparable for a time. We were very much alike.” Perhaps too much. “After she died, my father changed, became irritable whenever I was near, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me.” He shook his head. “It didn’t take long before he decided my music lessons were a waste of time, before he began trying to change me into someone more like him.”

  “Maybe he didn’t realize what he was doing. Maybe if you talk to him…”

  No, he’d never been able to talk reason to his father. Why would now be any different? He rose to his feet. “I’m going to head to the pond. I saw some pine trees there, and I’ll need sap to make pine pitch.”

  She set aside the fruit’s skin, the meat all gone. “I’ll go with you.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “I want to,” she insisted, her eyes hopeful.

  How could he resist? He extended his hand to help her up, and they entered the forest. “Fine then. You can search for animal droppings on the way. I’ll need them, too.”

  Her nose wrinkled, and he laughed. “Or I can look for them.”

  As they walked, a troubling thought occurred to him. One that should have surfaced the prior day. “I’ve been wondering about the ship I saw yesterday. What if it’s a pirate ship? The pirate haven of New Providence can’t be too far from here.”

  “Did you see a flag?”

  “Not clearly,” he admitted as he stepped through a combination of grass, sand, and soil. “I think it would be best if I rowed to the island on my own, looked around, and returned for you once I’m assured it’s safe.”

  “You’d leave me here? Alone…with the snakes?”

  He almost smiled at that. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I’d rather go with you.”

  As he knew she would. He couldn’t allow it. “Please don’t argue with me on this. Not all pirates are the same. While some will respect a woman’s virtue, many live by no rules and would just as soon have their fun.”

  Her lips pursed and twitched, but she said no more on the subject. Soon the freshwater pond came into view, and with it an unexpected sight that made his protective instincts flare to life.

  Beside him, Amelia gasped.

  A black man was crouched by the water, with a large gourd in one hand and another on the ground at his side. He wore only breeches, the dark skin of his chest marred in places by whip marks. His eyes wide, he appeared as startled to see them as they were by him.

  David hurried to put himself between Amelia and the man. “Who are you?” David called out.

  The stranger held his silence, his gaze darting about as if deciding whether to flee or stand his ground.

  “Who are you?” David repeated.

  Amelia grasped hold of David’s arm. “Let him be. He’s just getting water.”

  “Isaac,” the man said as he rose to his full height with a look of challenge. “Your name?”

  An old scar on Isaac’s cheek captured David’s attention. A burn. And the state of his breeches, all tattered and worn.

  “David,” he replied, as he took a step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. “Do you live on this island?”

  Isaac’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand.

  “Where are you from?” he pressed.

  Still no answer. What if… He repeated his last question in a language he’d hoped to never use again, in Malagasy, the language of Madagascar. “Avy aiza kay ianao?”

  Isaac’s brows rose, but he didn’t answer.

  He searched for the words and spoke again. “Azonao ve ilay tiako ho…tenenina?” Did you understand what I said?

  “Eny.” Yes.

  Good. Although, if he understood, why hadn’t he answered? Likely because he didn’t want to say from where he’d come. Very well. “Firy…” How many… Bloody hell. He couldn’t remember. “Firy…” Damn.

  David sensed Amelia move behind him. From the corner of his eye, he watched her approach the pond’s edge. She bent down and dipped her fingers into the water.

  To hell with this. He gave up trying to recall the words. “Are there others here with you?”

  “No.” Isaac spoke with such vehemence, David couldn’t help but wonder if the man was answering the question or expressing his frustration.

  David glanced at the gourds the man held. They would have taken some time to dry before they could be of use. Of course, the man could have brought them here from somewhere else. He thought to ask how long Isaac had been on the island. Before he could, Isaac growled something in a language David had never heard before.

  Amelia screamed. David turned in time to see her stumble backward and fall at the edge of the pond as an alligator emerged from the water. It lunged toward her.

  He ran full out t
o where she lay, his heart pounding from his chest.

  Fighting for breath, she scrambled away, but she wouldn’t be fast enough. The alligator’s massive jaws sprang open, ready to bite into her.

  David caught her beneath the arms and dragged her toward safety as Isaac sprang forward, a knife held high. He jumped onto the back of the alligator. It thrashed, trying to dislodge him, but he held on and stabbed his blade through the creature’s skull.

  As the alligator stilled, Isaac cast David a look of triumph, and warning.

  David tensed, the hairs at the nape of his neck prickling.

  “Thank you.” Amelia threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. She glanced over her shoulder at Isaac. “Thank you to you both.”

  Isaac didn’t acknowledge her thanks in any way. He simply stared at David, his stance one of challenge.

  …

  “I don’t trust him,” David admitted as he led Amelia in a circuitous path back to their shelter, both to find more ingredients for the pine pitch and to avoid leaving a blatant trail for Isaac to follow.

  “Why?” Amelia asked as she walked beside him. “He seems like a nice enough man. He helped save my life.”

  “Maybe so.” He stopped to scoop up a lump of dried dung lying in the grass, dropping it into the coconut shell that contained the hardened pieces of sap they’d collected by the pond.

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  Probably because he wasn’t convinced. He’d pulled Amelia out of harm’s way before Isaac had jumped onto the alligator’s back. Although Isaac had killed the beast, David had gotten the sense that Isaac had an ulterior motive for what he’d done… To flaunt his strength and skill in a show of power that would instill fear or respect. Either would do. “Perhaps I’m being unduly protective, but I would feel better if you stayed by my side until we leave this island.”

  He looked over at Amelia, her porcelain skin now a golden color that suited her, and her blond hair bleached brighter by the sun. If anything happened to her… David glanced at the tracks they’d left behind. It would be hours before the boat would be fixed and they could row away. He had to take matters in hand.