Chapter 8
From what seemed a wild and horrible nightmare, a semblance of life on the island emerged. They chattered excitedly, digging hands into the soil, feeling its texture. They cleared away the brush from the wild orange and other fruit trees, allowing the caressing warmth of the sun to encourage production.
Nicholas had set spade to earth, and what had been a wasteland of tangled weeds, was now planted with neat little rows of growing lettuces, cabbage, tomatoes and other vegetables. Automatically, Nicholas and Alexandra responded to the novelty and primitive call of the land.
Nicholas was more content than he had ever been in his life.
Days passed and he discovered an order to work on the island that satisfied something deeper in him. An order came from the union of skill and passion. But he had to admit, the driving energy came from working with Alexandra and always toward a goal. Each knowing their role, yet tripping over boundaries to help the other. There was no pause in Alexandra. She worked doggedly to get the job done, and then she would give him that challenging lift to her brow that told him she expected the same or more from him.
Meat had been smoked and hung in the lean-to. The daily routine of obtaining water, although onerous, was maintained. They collected fruit, rendered tallow from the animal fat for lamps, which cut down on the need of their limited beeswax candles. They collected sea grapes on the beach and had great fun crushing the lot so they could ferment in a crock to make wine. He’d gathered a large pile of driftwood and set it on the beach to light a signal fire. He hunted.
As the weeks wore on, he admired her knowledge more and more. She was far better prepared to survive, teaching and inspiring him about planting, food preservation, and collecting healing herbs. He was surprised how much he liked being with her.
A day didn’t go by that he didn’t try to win her warm smile, taking pleasure, delighting her by something he could accomplish. And those accomplishments were increasing daily. He surprised himself by how much he could do without commanding a servant to do it for him.
With a loop trap, he snagged a female goat, dragging the obstinate bleating creature through the jungle to the garden’s edge. Alexandra was on her knees, weeding.
The goat’s cries caused her to raise her golden head. She clapped her hands. “Nicholas, you astonish me with your cleverness. How perfect to have a nanny goat to milk and to make cheese and puddings.”
He never tired of her exclamations. She made him feel like an emperor—and over a silly goat.
He was free of the awkwardness that comes of the mismatching of two people who are not suited to be together. As with Lady Susannah Tomkins.
He gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. He had promised his father he would marry Lady Susannah Tomkins. If his father were alive, he’d have to honor his wishes.
Alexandra took the tether from him, her hands warm upon his. He jerked back.
She blinked. “Is something the matter?”
“No,” he said, harsher than necessary.
She tied the goat in the shade of a Poinciana tree. Flower petals had fallen, creating a thick bright orange carpet on the earth, and like a painting, framed a magnificent backdrop for Alexandra. So happy with her simple gift, she cooed to the beast, calming the animal with her words. Like she did with him.
Nicholas exhaled, so many contrasts between Alexandra and his fiancée. Lady Susannah would be horrified with such an offering. Nicholas’ nerves grew taut. He clenched his jaws. To be yoked to a shallow woman satisfied with nothing less than jewels, furs, and the finest of clothes, left a sour taste in his mouth.
“I like your idea of trying different plantings. I think your experimentation will give us a greater yield, Nicholas. I can’t wait to see the results.”
Alexandra’s enthusiasm was infectious. She took joy in what he found important, embracing the simplest things and making every occurrence of every day worth remembering.
Next to Alexandra, Lady Susannah’s negative traits magnified. Would Lady Susannah talk about crop rotation? No. She’d yawn, look him up and down with disdain, and then nag him to accompany her to the next ball, tea or entertainment.
He had seen Lady Susannah’s sharp tongue toward her servants, giving criticism and instruction rather than praise, even taking a riding crop to a groom who had not helped her dismount quickly enough.
On one occasion, he had business to attend for his father, and was therefore unable to escort her to an opera. How she loved to play the martyr, insisting he reward her tenfold. From his sister and friends, he had learned of Lady Susannah’s, constant checking of his whereabouts, and then venting to others, making him look like a fool. He had chosen to be oblivious to all of this…until now.
Nicholas’s mind spun, torn between wanting to stay here and continue the pleasant life he and Alexandra enjoyed together, or return to England and take up the mantle his father commanded—if the opportunity ever came to get off the island.
Alexandra’s lineage was nebulous, unproven and would be impossible to verify, a result of Lady Ursula, covering her crime well. His father, if alive, would demand an authentic pedigree.
“If we are going to the top of that mountain, we better make the rest of our daylight.”
“Is that so?” She laughed and patted the goat as it dunked its head into the bucket for a drink. “I suppose we have worked hard enough that we can spare some time off.”
Nicholas slung the Brown Bess and powder horn over his shoulder, and then picked up a machete. The animal path lay dubious and uncertain through thick jungle, leading them through another bamboo forest. Beneath the lush canopy of gleaming leaves, reached snatches of sunlight and sky. They ducked beneath a myriad of roots of an ancient banyan tree and arrived at an open clearing where large spherical fruits hung.
“A calabash tree, Nicholas. My father brought these gourds to England. We can scrape and dry out the fruits, making vessels that will make excellent transports for water when we explore.”
He marked trees with his machete for the return trip. After an hour, he climbed to the top of an escarpment buffeted by winds and free of vegetation. To the south, lay the blue sea, like a huge left-handed glove worn by a Medieval knight, the thumb split from the hand. The eastern portion from which they inhabited, undulated with palms and rich verdant green, descending to a white sand beach. Contrasting to the west, or leeward side, were rolling meadows. The northern division was steeped with wretched sharp cliffs that fell straight to the sea.
“Everywhere we are surrounded by water and confirms we are on an island.” Nowhere was the landscape so breathtaking. To be on top of the world. He turned around to see her reaction. She was just as taken as he was. He stretched his hand to hers.
When she clasped her palm to his, a current of awareness shot through him with a sweet wash of sensation, like a thousand springs in bloom. A sweetness he had no business feeling, though it brought him a gentle peace. He didn’t remember pulling her up beside him. Suddenly, she was standing right next to him and the softness of her arm pressed against his.
“I’m king of this island,” he roared over the echoing valley, jolting a pair of flapping egrets from their nests.
“I’m queen of this island,” she shouted after him. “And since you are the only male resident, I’ll allow you the title of king.”
He made an exaggerated bow. “I thank you for your generosity. Still, a compromise is in order. We will rule together, Lady Sutherland, guardians of all we survey.”
“On one condition,” she said seriously. “That we call this land, Alexandra Island. I’ve never had anything named after me.”
“Then we shall call it Alexandra Island.” He’d agree to anything she wanted.
“Isn’t it lovely, Nicholas?”
His gaze focused on her. How could he even concentrate? “Very.”
He tried to think of a woman of his acquaintance who would hike to the top of a mountain and never complain, finding every day a new adventure. None.
Her chest heaving from the exertion, she scanned the horizon. “There is so much to discover.”
Wishing swept through him as he studied her profile. Under no circumstances would he be less than mystified by her eyes, dark ringed with golden lights, mesmerizing, ever-changing from emerald to deep pools of turquoise and fringed with long lashes. Her nose was straight and perfect, and her lips always seemed to hold a hint of a smile.
The way her chin curved, so delicate, made him want to run the pad of his thumb along the angle to see if her bronzed skin, felt as soft as it looked. Her golden braid, reached to her hips. How many times had he resisted the urge to unplait the golden mass? Every time he gazed upon her, tenderness wrapped around him in ever-strengthening layers. He had a fondness for Alexandra, but he suspected she did not for him.
The sting pierced him, but he tried not to let it show. Never, not once had he caught her glancing his way in other than a sisterly fashion. She would be busy doing her everyday chores, chatting up a storm, yet did not notice him the way he desired.
Not that it wasn’t his fault. He had been clear about their relationship. Yet, to be alone with her day after day was taxing his reserve. To him, she was far above the price of rubies and he was totally captivated.