Page 37 of The Black Lion
“Not quite,” he replied with a laugh. “I happened to come into this house after the man who built it fell out of favor with the island natives. You see, Captain Baldridge founded the settlement here. He had this house built and lived like a king. There are even rumors that the rooms within were filled with his own personal harem of women from all over the world.”
“Charming,” Arabella muttered with a roll of her eyes. “What happened to him?”
“The natives were content to keep to themselves as long as Baldridge went on paying them in cattle, rum, and other goods … until he went into business as a slaver and set his sights on them as potential cargo. They had the manpower to fight back, but were outgunned. UntilThe Sea Lionreturned from a rather profitable trip with her stores filled with weapons.”
The horror she’d felt over the actions of Captain Baldridge were smothered by amusement as she gave Drew a sidelong glance. “You armed them, didn’t you?”
His knowing smirk was a more than adequate answer, but he replied anyway. “I did, and they ran him off in short order. He abandoned this house and never returned to the island.”
“After which you promptly took it for yourself.”
“They don’t call me a pirate for nothing.”
There wasn’t time enough for her to answer before they were passing through the gates, and then the front doors flew open to reveal a woman on the threshold. Arabella nearly tripped over her own two feet at the sight of the most ravishing person she’d ever laid eyes on. Tall and slender, she still somehow managed to convey a sense of physical power as she took the stairs two at a time in their direction. The sun gleamed off flawless, dark-as-night skin, and a headful of black hair fell down her back in the same curious style of Drew’s. Though, her own mane was decidedly wilder, with haphazard plaits and adornments of beads interspersed through the dark ropes that nearly kissed the small of her back. She wore men’s clothing, yet carried them off in a decidedly feminine way. Breeches and a frock coat did nothing to hide the curves of breast and thigh and hip, and rather seemed to flaunt them to their advantage.
As she drew closer, Arabella took in an angular face notched with high cheekbones, the sharp slash of a straight nose, and full, lush lips. It was too much to hope, of course, that her teeth might be rotten or crooked or missing altogether. Naturally, her smile was as perfect as the rest of her—white and brilliant and becoming.
“Well, look what the tide washed up,” she teased as she neared them. “The Sea Kitten returned to dry land!”
Even her voice was riveting, slightly deep and husky, laced with a light French accent.
Dropping Arabella’s hand, Drew advanced on the woman with a chuckle, bending down to accept her warm embrace. Arabella’s stomach twisted and churned, her throat burning with bile as she noted their familiarity.
“It is good to see you too, Nadège,” Drew replied, tugging on a lock of hair adorned with a bright red feather. “Can you not behave yourself long enough for me to introduce you to my wife?”
Nadège peered around Drew’s shoulder, her smile going even wider when she caught sight of Arabella. “You mean to say some poor woman has been foolish enough to wed you?”
Pushing Drew aside as if he weighed no more than a child, she moved toward Arabella with both hands extended. She moved as gracefully as any lady Arabella had ever met, as if the layers of skirts and petticoats swished around her ankles.
Swallowing past the odd emotion welling up in her as Nadège came near, Arabella placed her hands in those of the other woman and forced a smile.
“Nadège Dantes,” she said, appraising Arabella from head to toe. “You must be the famous Arabella. I’ve heard so much about you—all good things, I assure you. My, but you’re lovelier than he led me to believe. Shame on you, Drew.”
Arabella’s gaze flicked to Drew in surprise. He had come to stand at her side to watch the exchange, his expression in a softened, placid state. Was it made so by coming home, or by the presence of this enchanting woman? She referred to him intimately, by the shortened version of his name. During her time aboard his ship, Arabella had come to realize that only she addressed him that way. So, why did Nadège feel so comfortable referring to him as ‘Drew?’
“Shame on him, indeed,” Arabella managed, doing her best to keep her voice light. “For he has told me absolutely nothing about you.”
Nadège threw her head back and laughed, squeezing Arabella’s hands as if they were old friends. “I am thinking this is a good thing. My infamy might have made you terrified of me.”
“Rightly so,” Drew muttered, though there was mirth heavy in his voice. “The stories are all true, and we both know it.”
“I have a reputation to uphold,” Nadège declared, raising her chin and tossing her mane of hair. “I will leave you to explore your new home. But, we will see one another again soon,oui?”
“Of course,” Arabella replied.
“Tonight, if you aren’t otherwise engaged. I’m hosting a celebration for Bella.”
Releasing Arabella’s hands, Nadège began backing toward the front steps. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to guzzle as much of your rum as I can get my hands on. Welcome home, Captain.”
Drew waved her off with another laugh as she bounded back up the stairs and strode through the front doors as if she belonged here.
Swiveling toward Drew, Arabella raised her eyebrows. “She lives here?”
Offering her his arm, he guided her to the open front doors. “Nadège would say she lives nowhere. She is rarely ever spotted on land, but has been recuperating from an injury. When she is on the island, she has a room here, just like most of my officers. You aren’t too tired for a tour, are you? It’s been a long day, and the celebration will likely go late into the night. I’ll understand if you need to rest.”
Staring after the retreating form of Nadège Dantes, Arabella told herself she was being ridiculous. Yes, the woman—who was, apparently, also a pirate—was exceedingly beautiful. Yes, fondness crept into Drew’s voice when he spoke of her. But then, he had always been fiercely loyal to people he considered his friends. She was obviously making much out of nothing.
“A tour would be lovely,” she said, clinging to Drew’s arm as they entered the bright, airy entrance hall. “I want to see everything.”
