Lucian saw to it that he had shelter and food until he could care for himself, then he was told that thievery wasn't necessary for survival on the island, nor was it acceptable behavior. If he was caught stealing he would be put off the island. The man had smiled broadly and winked at Catherine, informing her that he had been smart enough to realize he had found paradise and had no intention of ever leaving. He then had handed her a small, strange fuzzy fruit and told her to enjoy and God bless.
Catherine had learned much from her visit to the market. Heaven was paradise to its inhabitants and Lucian was the man responsible for creating it. And he had created beauty in a lush jungle.
The size and magnificence of his home had surprised her. An open carriage, highly polished and well maintained, had driven them from the market square up a winding hill road to emerge at the most beautiful home Catherine had ever seen.
A circular crushed-shell driveway with a spouting fountain in the middle greeted visitors as the driveway wrapped around to the entrance of him home. Gleaming white and two stories tall, it stood proudly with full-length windows whose shutters were thrown wide open allowing the island breeze to drift through the entire house. A balcony ran the full length of the second floor. Bamboo chairs with bright print cushions and tables with pots of flowering plants decorated it tastefully. On the front veranda numerous pots overflowed in a riot of colors and wide-back bamboo chairs begged visitors to sit and relax.
And that was only the outside, inside had been equally shocking. Lucian had blended native comfort with English charm. The outcome was simply breathtaking.
Rosewood furnishings with bold native prints at the windows, ceramic vases and plates from foreign ports, highly polished ceramic tile floors of intricate design, brass fixtures, paintings with gilt frames, and numerous windows open wide to welcome the sun and the warm island breeze.
Lucian had taken care to create his home strictly for his taste and comfort. He had accomplished that most successfully.
"I have brought breakfast for you, Catherine."
Catherine turned with a warm smile to greet Zeena, Lucian's housekeeper, though the term seemed inapplicable when used in reference to the attractive woman.
"Thank you, but I would have joined Lucian shortly."
Zeena placed the silver serving tray on the bamboo table out on the balcony. "Lucian is occupied and requested that you not wait to eat."
Catherine had come to know and respect Zeena in the short time since their acquaintance. She had learned Zeena was a woman of few words and offered only that information which she felt necessary or that she felt concerned you. So evidently she assumed that whatever occupied Lucian at the moment was of no concern to Catherine.
"There is fruit, tea, and hot biscuits. Sit and eat."
Catherine didn't argue. She was hungry and Zeena's size and elegant poise was intimidating. She slid in the chair sinking into the comfort of the bold green-and-yellow print pillow that cushioned the bamboo seat. She reached for the silver teapot and stopped as Zeena’s hand grasped the handle.
Her fingers were slim and graceful. But then everything about Zeena was graceful. She carried her five-foot-ten-inch frame with confidence. Her rich dark complexion was flawless, her beauty unmistakable.
Her shiny black hair was kept braided and pinned like a thick rope up along the back of her head and secured at the top with a lovely ivory comb. She wore the rich colors of the island in a sarong that wrapped around her body, detailing every perfect curve and slipping over her shoulder before knotting around her waist.
Her speech was articulate, her manners impeccable, her bearing regal. Catherine swore nobility ran through her blood. And the very best part of her appearance was the obvious love that she and Santos shared.
"You spend much time daydreaming," Zeena said, and lowered herself gracefully in the chair opposite Catherine.
Catherine had learned that Zeena was never invited to join anyone, if she wished to favor someone with her company, she did. The decision was hers and no one else's. One was honored if she joined one and accepted it as such. "I have much on my mind."
"It is obvious that your thoughts weigh heavily." Zeena relaxed back in the chair, crossing her long slim legs. "What troubles you?"
Catherine shrugged, spearing a juicy piece of melon. "Many things I have no control of."
"Intelligent women control their lives," Zeena stated. "You are intelligent; therefore it must be your heart that rules at the moment, causing confusion and uncertainty."
Intelligent. Zeena believed her intelligent.
A smile spread across Zeena's face. "When I found love all rational thought vanished. I was not accustomed to such contrary emotions. It seemed I opposed myself. It was most puzzling and delightful."