Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"Those are pewter worms."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hollow pipes made of pewter. They coil around, downward in a spiral shaped like a huge spring. See? They're suspended in a cistern of cold water. When the hot vapors run down the worms they condense --- and out comes rum. It's a pity you will not be here to see the process."

"I shall be somewhere, I suppose."

"Yes, but not here."

She was not going to make it easy for him, of course. He said finally, "If I am not here, neither will you be."

"I wouldn't be too certain of that," Diana flung back at him, and nudged Tanis' sleek sides. He followed her through a narrow path in a cane field. The field ended only a hundred yards or so from the sea. Diana rode down the beach, then drew to a halt. "There is our dock. When we're ready to ship, we load hogsheads into moses boats --- they're small dinghies that are rowed out to sailing schooners."

"I see."

"You probably don't, but it doesn't matter."

"You are a patient instructor, Diana."

She gave him a look at that. "I suppose I could tie you down and beat the information into you. Perhaps you would understand that approach."

"I am sorry I forced you this morning."

Angry color surged over her face. "Forced? Is that what you call your despicable behavior? I hope you come to a bad end, Lyon. You deserve it!"

He watched her gallop down the beach. He didn't follow her. He sat still on Egremont's back and stared up the slopes of the three hills of Savarol Island. Row after row of sugarcane climbed and wound around the gentle slopes. So many souls needed to work the rows. He was rather relieved that he wasn't here during harvest time. He could picture Grainger whipping those sweating black backs when Lucien wasn't around. Then plowing Patricia in the middle of the night when Daniel was sleeping.

What the devil was he to do? He'd mucked up things with Diana, after swearing to her father that he would protect her, take care of her. The sun beat down on him and he dismounted, tying Egremont to the branch of a white cedar. He stripped off his clothes and dashed into the turquoise water. He dived forward, feeling the brief shock of cool water close over his head. The bottom was sandy and firm, the water now like a tepid bath. He imagined himself diving into the cold, muddy waters of the Thames and laughed. A pelican dived expertly into the water some twenty feet from him, emerging with a wriggling fish in its long beak.

"Congratulations, old fellow!"

He flipped onto his back and floated for a while. The sun beat upon his face but the water kept him cool. He could hear nothing, see nothing except that same circling pelican and the brilliant blue sky. He decided he would simply have to seduce Diana, treat her very gently, prove to her that he wasn't a maniac from Bedlam. As for Patricia, well, he supposed he would just have to wait and see. Perhaps he could drop some none-too-subtle comments in that girl's ears, let her know that he knew her secret. Or he could tell Lucien.

Of course he had no real proof. He had seen her, had seen the shadow of a man, knew that they were coming from the overseer's house. The man hadn't been black, of that he was certain. There were no other white men on the island, save himself and Lucien. At least none that he knew of yet. He could hear himself now saying to Lucien Savarol, "I saw your daughter-in-law just before dawn with her lover, though I didn't see his face or her face and didn't see them committing adultery, actually."

Damnation.

He turned over and touched his feet to the sandy bottom. He swam back until the water came only to his waist, then stood and walked through the gently tumbling surf. He didn't see Patricia until he was out of the water, shaking himself like a wet mongrel.

"Good morning, my lord," she called to him, her voice high.

He stopped dead in his tracks. He eyed his clothes. They were neatly piled near Egremont, some thirty feet away. He was perfectly naked. The sun was in his eyes and he shaded them with his hand.

"You are now married, Patricia," he called back to her. "However, I am not your husband. I believe you should take yourself off until I clothe myself."

She laughed merrily. He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, she thought, unable to tear her eyes away. Not that she'd seen all that many men, of course. She realized suddenly that Daniel was very likely somewhere near, and pulled her gaze away. "I will see you at lunch, my lord! Not as much of you, of course!" She laughed, mounted an old swaybacked nag, and cantered off down the beach.

Lyon stood quietly, looking after her for a moment. He saw her bring her riding crop on the poor animal's flank, and flinched. Life, he decided while he pulled on his clothes, wasn't simple, even in this paradise. More than one person, and things invariably got mucked up.

He didn't see Tanis in the stable when he returned with Egremont. He wondered if Diana would follow the plan of avoiding him now. He returned to the great house to find Lucien in his library with another white man, one Lyon hadn't seen before.

"Hello, Lyon. Do come in, my boy. Charles Swanson, my bookkeeper; my son-in-law, Lord Saint Leven."

Swanson looked like the young vicar in Escrick, Lyon thought. Narrow-shouldered, slight of build, pale-gray eyes, and strangely enough, very white-skinned, as if his face never saw the sun.

"My lord," said Charles Swanson, "it is a pleasure." His voice was deep and rich, again like the vicar's in Escrick.

Lyon shook the man's hand. The slender bones felt like a woman's in his strong grasp.