Page 36 of The Black Lion
Allowing him to lead her to where one of the boats was in position and ready to be lowered, Arabella found herself grateful to be wearing breeches and boots. That made it easier for her to swing her legs over the rail and lower herself into the boat without collapsing in a graceless heap.
“I thought Rory was joking about where you live, but … I suppose it must be very large if we can accommodate so many people?”
Drew settled beside her in the boat, then held his arms out for Little Jack, who was being lifted over the rail to join them. The boy settled on Drew’s other side as others began climbing in, filling the small vessel fore and aft.
“I think your question is best answered by showing rather than telling. But, in short, yes …ourhouse is already home to Rory, Big Jack and Little Jack, Padre, and a handful of others. There are empty chambers and parlors that will do nicely for anyone who needs a place to sleep. All will be well, and they will soon settle into their new lives. Those who do not wish to remain may find passage on any ship leaving our shores at their convenience. They are not prisoners here.”
Clutching the side of the jolly boat, she peered over the side as it began inching down to the bay. The water was so clear here, Arabella could see straight to its rocky bottom. It occurred to her that some of the larger ships were moored farther from shore than the smaller sloops and schooners, likely due to the treacherous ocean floor. The sharp stones would be enough to rip the hull of a brigantine to shreds. No wonder the beaches here couldn’t be stormed by ships of the line. They couldn’t get close enough before being blasted to kingdom come or sinking themselves.
She couldn’t seem to sit still as the oars were lowered and a pair of men began rowing them to shore. The sights that greeted Arabella as they neared her new home proved a feast for the senses. The fresh, salty air of the ocean was now mingled with the aromas of citrus and green vegetation. Wafting smoke in the distance carried with it the scents of cooking food that had her stomach growling for want of a good meal.
Drew seemed to have heard the rumblings of her belly, for he chuckled and stroked a hand up her back. “All in good time, my Bella. If I haven’t missed my guess, Padre and Big Jack would have told my staff to anticipate our arrival. I’d wager a rather fine meal will await us.”
“It should not surprise me to learn that your house is staffed with servants. Is there anything you haven’t been able to buy yourself, Captain?”
He shrugged. “The island is overrun with the wives of sailors in need of work. I supply their families with food and essential supplies, and they maintain the house, cook meals, tend crops, and look after those who reside there in my absence. That is the way employment is arranged on the island, everywhere from the larger houses, to the smithies, carpenters, and taverns.”
“And the brothels?” she teased, for Arabella couldn’t imagine a pirate stronghold without its fair share of places for the men to slake their lust.
Drew smirked. “Having never set foot in any of them, I wouldn’t know. There are several, however, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Arabella snapped her mouth closed around the question burning like a hot coal in her throat. It hadn’t occurred to her until now to ask him about their time apart, and whether he had taken comfort in whores and the like. Despite burning with curiosity, she found it difficult to feel as if she had the right to ask. After all, barely two months had passed since she had been prepared to go to the marriage bed with Drew’s brother. Had he arrived too late to stop the wedding and the resulting consummation, Arabella hoped Drew would have been able to forgive her. The past was no longer relevant, and she would not delve too deeply into matters she would rather not face. He was hers now, and that was what mattered.
To assure herself of this, Arabella rested her head against his shoulder and twined her fingers through his. Glancing down at their joined hands, Drew stroked a fingertip over the pearl in her ring.
They arrived to the shore in short order, and Drew led her and Little Jack over sparkling white sand toward a path leading through the towering trees. The rough walkway opened into a clearing, where a collection of horse-drawn wagons sat in wait.
Among the waiting men stood Padre and Big Jack, who came forward to greet them. The bosun scooped his son off the ground and held him to his side like he might a babe—and he might as well have been for how large Big Jack was in comparison to the boy.
“Welcome home, Cap’n, Mrs. Reeves,” he said with a bright smile. “All’s in preparation at the house. We brought a horse for you and your missus. Figured you wouldn’t want to wait for the wagons.”
“You’re a godsend, Jack,” Drew said, accepting the reins of a large chestnut stallion from Padre. “Spread the word among the crew. I want to host a celebration tonight in honor of Bella’s arrival. All who wish to attend will be welcome. Make sure we have enough ale and rum pulled from our cargo to accommodate a crowd.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” both men replied at once.
Drew helped her into the saddle and climbed on behind her, taking the reins in hand. With a click of his tongue they set off down the path leading deeper into the overgrowth of jungle.
Arabella drank in everything her eyes landed on, lips parted in wonder. There was a certain familiarity about being surrounded by a landscape similar to that of Jamaica, and yet this place felt like another world entirely. The yellowish eyes of lemurs peered at her from the shadows of the trees, while the medley of tropical birds rang out through the air. The trickle and rush of water hinted at rivers and creeks buried deep in the overgrowth, and rustlings of unseen creatures here and there told her there were other inhabitants of these woods.
The forest eventually gave way to cleared plots of land upon which tidy rows of modest homes stood—some made of clay, others of timber or stone. Neat rows of crops grew on small farms. Drew waved to the people appearing in the doorways of their dwellings, or pausing in the midst of their work to greet them. Children ran in open fields in their bare feet, their laughter and smiles warming her heart.
Without the obstruction of trees, Arabella could see the vastness of the island beyond, mountains towering in the distance with wide swaths of land cleared and settled much like those in the valleys below.
“The village proper is farther inland,” Drew told her. “This route home is faster, though, so we won’t come near it today. I’ll take you another time.”
Arabella leaned back against his chest and enjoyed the scenery as the path began to wind its way up a sloping incline. They climbed what had been referred to as ‘the hill’, and the village and houses below them began to fall away, revealing an escarpment upon which a collection of buildings sat. There were houses in various sizes, stables and paddocks, and other enclosures containing cattle, pigs, and goats. But, it was the massive mansion looming over it all that caught and held Arabella’s attention. She sat up straighter and gaped, thunderstruck at the opulence of such a place built in the middle of such wild environs.
“Is this …”
“Yes,” Drew said, drawing the horse up near one of the outbuildings. “Your new home.”
“Dear God.”
He dismounted first and helped Arabella down, leaving her standing near an enclosure where several chickens clucked and skipped in circles while he tended the horses. Arabella studied the edifice of the house, with its massive white columns and a terrace that seemed to wrap around the house from the front to both sides. Floor to ceiling windows on the ground floor would allow in a great deal of natural light, and rounded balconies jutted off two front-facing chambers on the second floor. It was a grand house that could rival any of the finest manors in Falmouth.
Drew’s hands landed on her shoulders, snapping Arabella out of her stupor. He grinned when she shook her head at him in disbelief.
“I’m certain there is a fantastical story behind this,” she said as he propelled her in the direction of a low, clay wall surrounding the house. “Somehow, you’ve gone from carpenter, to sailor, to pirate, to … lord of the island?”
