Rapture in His Arms by Lynette Vinet Read Free Book Online

passengers had been horrified to see a white man chained to black slaves, and had complained to the captain and then to Edwin. Jillian knew that Edwin had gone to Donovan and attempted to place him in a small cabin by himself, but Donovan had refused. Edwin had told her that Donovan insisted he was one of the slaves and preferred to remain with his friends. “Peculiar fellow,” Edwin had stated with a shake of his head, but Jillian had the impression that Edwin admired the Irishman for his loyalty.
    Well, Jillian didn’t admire him. She thought Donovan was rude and impertinent. No matter where she was on deck, even if she attempted to shield herself from view, she always felt his gaze upon her. More than once she was tempted to tell Edwin, but she didn’t. How would she explain to him that the slave dared to be so familiar because he’d kissed her and caressed her breasts—and she’d awakened to find herself clinging to him like a doxy? Just thinking about the incident brought fresh heat to her cheeks.
    Edwin joined her at the railing and looked at the shoreline which grew ever larger as the ship approached. “’Tis good to be home again. And things will be different from now on.”
    “What things? What do you mean by different, Edwin? I like things just as they are.”
    Edwin placed an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Everything changes. ’Tis life, you know.”
    Jillian knew he must be thinking about his son. She didn’t know what Edwin meant by changes, and she wasn’t certain she wanted any. A vague sense of apprehension clutched at her stomach but she threw off the feeling. Edwin was only musing and missing Jacob, she decided. Though Jacob was gone, nothing would change at Cameron’s Hundred; nothing ever did. She and Edwin would go on as they always had in the past. And this was fine with Jillian.
    ~ ~ ~
    “How was your trip, ma’am?” asked Lizzie, an indentured servant who tended to Jillian. Lizzie helped unpack Jillian’s trunk, carefully laying the rumpled gowns on the bed before hanging them in the wardrobe. “I wish I could have come with ye, to help ye some. Did Lady Priscilla have a good maid for ye?”
    Jillian smiled at the dark-haired young woman and placed a comb and brush on the small vanity. “Aye, the woman was quite skilled, but not as good as you, Lizzie. I missed you.”
    Lizzie sniffed the air importantly, not a modest bone in her body, for Lizzie knew her own self-worth. “I missed ye, too, ma’am. ’Tis too bad that Mr. Cameron wasn’t able to get an extra cabin for serving people. I think I’d have liked to see Bermuda. Was it very pretty?”
    “’Twas very nice,” Jillian said without enthusiasm.
    Lizzie went to stand by the window to examine a small spot on one of Jillian’s gowns when suddenly a movement outside drew her attention. “God a’mighty, who is that?” she cried and leaned out of the window to get a better view of the scene below.
    “What is it, Lizzie? What’s wrong?” Jillian hurried over to the window. Looking down, she saw the nine slaves in the yard. Edwin spoke to his overseer, a man named Thompson, but Jillian couldn’t hear what Edwin was saying. As luck would have it, Donovan glanced up. His dark eyes fastened upon her face, and Jillian drew instantly back.
    “That—that man—he’s chained to those slaves,” Lizzie remarked in a shocked voice. “Why is he chained like that, ma’am?”
    “Because he’s a slave.”
    “But—but—he’s a white man.” Lizzie spoke as if she were telling Jillian a fact she didn’t already know.
    “Aye, he is. Now come away from that window and help me finish hanging up my gowns,” Jillian commanded more curtly than she’d intended. Just seeing Donovan Shay or speaking about him set her nerves on edge.
    Lizzie took her time about moving away from the window, but finally she did so, shaking her head in dismay. “’Tis a shame for a man to be enslaved, be he white or