As they were eating, contentment reigned. When Adam reached under the table to squeeze Cathy’s hand, she beamed in reply, drinking in the sight of him. Black hair was casually brushed back from his brow, and she flushed at the memory of her fingers sinking into those locks a few short hours ago. Now, as if reading her mind, Raveneau sent her a wicked smile.
“You do like de food?” inquired a soft voice.
Cathy turned to see Retta in the doorway, a walking stick in each hand. “Retta! How lovely to see you up and about today. Yes, breakfast is delicious! Please, sit with us a moment. Perhaps you can answer some of our questions about Crowe’s Nest.”
As if sensing Hermione Parrish’s disapproval, Retta sank down on a side chair that was pushed against the wall. “I stays here, Mistress.”
To the others, Cathy said, “Retta came to work for Adam’s grandparents when she was a very young girl, some eighty-five years ago. Isn’t that amazing?” Then, to the old woman, she asked, “Did you know Xavier Crowe, Retta?”
A cloud seemed to pass over her withered face. “He do be a bad man. Make slaves do evil deeds.”
“Have you seen Crowe’s Nest?”
“Mmm-hmm. Rav’neau land by dere. I get chills when I go.” She shivered at the memory. “Spirits ‘pon dere.”
Cathy thought about Stede Bonnet, the gentleman pirate, and the treasure map she’d found hidden in Adrienne Beauvisage’s closet wall. How much did Retta know about that? A warning glance from Adam caused her to swallow her other questions. “It does sound as if we’ll have an exciting outing!”
“For my part,” Hermione rejoined, “I am concerned more with tangible matters, such as our lunch. Retta, can you arrange a picnic?”
“Pic-nic?” she repeated dubiously.
“A lovely outdoor lunch served in a wicker basket. You must pack white linen, crystal, and silver— and a tent, if possible. And of course, we’ll need an assortment of delicacies, and champagne and flowers—”
“Ma’am,” Retta broke in, “I do be deaf.” And with that, she got to her feet and tottered off toward the kitchen door.
Just then, Simon came in. He bowed to all the guests, but it was Raveneau to whom he whispered, “I almos’ forget dis letter I bring you from Bridgetown, sir.” He extracted a small envelope from his breast pocket and proffered it with a sigh.
“Thank you, Simon. Could you please hitch up the horses? We’ll be leaving soon.” He gave the others a distracted smile. “I’ll just take Alice for a turn in the garden.”
Cathy watched him rise, her instincts on alert. “We’ll go upstairs and get ready.”
Outside, Adam and Alice walked under the rose arbor, and he took the letter out of his breast pocket. While the retriever amused herself by scattering the crowds of noisy guinea fowl, Adam scanned the note written in Gemma’s own hand. It read, in part,
I am waiting for word from you, my lord. I trust you have told your wife the truth about me— and our son? Paul waits to visit you, perhaps to spend Christmas in his father’s home...
Adam had a fleeting pain in his chest, then he straightened his shoulders and steeled himself to deal with the situation. There was a time when he might have sailed off to America or England and then sought further escape through cards, drink, or women. However, the loss of Thorn Manor had taught him that no problem was ever solved for long by debauchery.
Still, this particular problem could not have come at a worse time. Who could blame him for not telling Cathy about Paul after the sudden arrival of her mother? His heart clenched again at the memory of Cathy sleeping in his arms in the aftermath of their shared passion.
Heading back into the house through the library, Adam paused to wedge the folded note into his desk blotter. Voices drifted down the stairs as his wife and the others prepared to embark on their outing.
“Psst!”
He glanced over and saw Retta standing in the doorway, motioning with one walking stick for him to join her. Raveneau crossed to her side and asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Yessir! De pic-nic!” There was a deep furrow in her brow. “Dat lady want a tent an’ caviar an’ a wicker basket—”
“No, no.” He patted her thin, hunched back. “Don’t pay any attention to her.”
“She talkin’ bout de servants wearin’ livery, sir! She want we all wearin’ blue an’ gold.”
“Utter nonsense.”
“What ‘bout tent for de pic-nic?”
“Ignore her. Simply have the girls pack what we have for a lunch and give it to my wife. She is your mistress, not Mrs. Parrish. You’ve stood up to worse types than her, haven’t you, Retta?”
“Maybe,” she grumbled, straightening her headtie.
Adam watched her head off to the kitchen before he went to meet Cathy at the foot of the stairs.
“I think someone is coming on horseback, “ she said. “I caught a glimpse of a rider from Mother’s window.”
“Wait.” He caught the back of her cream silk suit when she started toward the back door. “I’m afraid I cannot accompany you to Crowe’s Nest after all. I find that I must go to Bridgetown on an urgent errand.”
“I see.” Sensing Gemma Hart’s presence between them, Cathy felt a sharp prick of jealousy. “I won’t trouble you to invent an errand for my benefit.”
He pretended not to understand what she meant. “I think that you ought to travel down the coast on the railroad. Simon can drive you to the station at Bathsheba.”
Behind them, Hermione and Auggie were descending the stairs. “There’s someone looking for you in the yard, cousin,” said Auggie. He pointed out the back door. “Can’t you hear him?”
At that moment, Theo Harrismith burst into the back stairhall. “Ah, Lady Raveneau, there you are. I feared you had gone out.” He was clad in a natty shadow-striped beige suit and a violet bowtie, and he was carrying a large wicker basket over one arm. Bowing low, he swept off his boater. “You grow lovelier by the week. Island living must agree with you.”
She flushed prettily. “Good friends like you agree with me, sir. How kind of you to come all this way, particularly in light of your responsibilities at the hotel.” After performing introductions, her eyes fell on his basket. “Have you got a surprise in there?”
“Yes, indeed. I am paying a Christmas call. This is your first Christmas in Barbados, and you don’t know our customs yet.”
Cathy felt Adam move close behind her. His hand touched the small of her back and she instinctively leaned toward him. “No doubt my husband would have introduced me to those customs were we not so busy with Tempest Hall...”
“That’s where friends come in, hmm?” Laughing, Theo reached into his basket and withdrew a fancy cork-stoppered glass bottle filled with red liquid. “I’ve brought sorrel, our Bajan Christmas drink that’s made from red sorrel seed pods.” Next he drew out a fruitcake and a fine smoked ham with a red ribbon around it. “We call these great cakes here, and the ham will be your main course. Josephine will make jug-jug, a mandatory dish on Christmas.”
“Jug-jug!” cried Hermione. “That sounds simply hideous!”
Laughing, he conceded, “It may be, but no one has Christmas without it. It’s made of pigeon peas, bits of pork, and guinea corn flour, all cooked together with stock until it resembles sludge.” His eyes twinkled. “Jug-jug is a tradition we Bajans cling to, for better or worse.”
Cathy looked up at Adam, expecting to find him amused, but he was not. Instead, he took the basket from Theo and said, “Kind of you to think of us, Mr. Harrismith. However, in the future we’ll sort out our own Christmas traditions.”
Theo’s eyebrows went up. “Sorry—”
“No good deed goes unpunished, eh?” cried Auggie before marching out into the yard. When Hermione followed him, Cathy stepped forward to take Theo’s arm and lead him outside, away from her husband.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with Adam,” she whispered after they had stepped into the sunlight.
“I’ll wager you have an idea, but far be it for me to interfere. Clearly he feels I’ve done enough of that.”
Cathy glanced back at the house and saw Adam standing in the shadows that fell inside the tall library windows. He was watching her and petting Alice at the same time. “You know, Theo, you ought to accompany us on our outing today since my husband can’t. We’re going to St. Philip, to have a look at Cave Bay and Victoria Villa, and then to see the notorious Crowe’s Nest. Won’t you come with us?”
“He won’t like it.”
“That’s all right.”
“I could serve as your guide,” Theo allowed. “I was raised here, after all.”
“And, if you come, we won’t have to travel on the railroad.” Cathy smiled at him and started toward the buggy that was hitched up a short distance away. “Come on. Isn’t it a lovely day?”
Inside the house, Adam watched as his wife and Theo walked past the ancient sandbox tree. Cathy was looking awfully pretty in her cream suit with the brown braid trim. She was carrying a matching wide-brimmed hat with a veil to protect her hair from the dust that already coated the hem of her skirt. Unbidden came the memory of her face in the moonlight at the moment of his release. Her expression had been soft, vulnerable, filled with emotion, and he had kissed her with a tenderness he didn’t recognize in himself.