Dark Rider

One

April 4, 1806 Kealakekua Bay, Hawaii

"Come with us, Kanoa," Lihua called out as she waded into the surf. "Why stay here on the shore when you could be where there is fine food and finer gifts? The English are beautiful and make love like Gods."

English. Cassie gazed out at the gleaming lanterns lighting the sleek lines of the ship in the darkness. The Josephine was smaller than the other ships that had come to the bay, but that did not mean it did not bring danger. She had been uneasy since she had come to the village that afternoon and Lihua had told her of the ship that had sailed into the bay two days ago. She had attempted to convince her friends that these foreigners might be a threat, but the village women had laughed at her. Still, she had to try once more.

"You know I can't go. I've already been here too long." She clenched her hands as she watched a dozen women run into the water. "And you should not go, either. Have you learned nothing? You should not sleep with the English. They bring disease and they care nothing for you."

Lihua grinned. "You worry too much. It's not certain that Captain Cook's sailors gave our people the French sickness, and these English care enough to bring me pleasure for the night. It is all a woman can ask."

It was all Lihua ever asked, Cassie thought with exasperation, all any of them ever asked. Pleasure for the present, pay tomorrow. Ordinarily she had no quarrel with the philosophy, but not when she could see danger looming.

"Come with us," Lihua coaxed. "Besides the sailors there are two who lead, a chief and his uncle, who captains the ship. I will let you have the chief, who knows many ways to please a woman. He is very beautiful and has the grace and the lusty appetite of that stallion you love so much."

"Chief? There is a noble chief on board that ship?"

"The sailors say it is the same as our chiefs. They call him Your Grace."

A duke. She felt a faint stirring of memory of that long-ago day in Marseilles. Foolishness-there could be no connection. "What is his name?"

"Jared."

"No, his last name."

Lihua shrugged. "Who knows? Why should I ask such things? It's not his name that makes me cry out with pleasure. It is his big-"

"Lihua, come along," Kalua, Lihua's sister, called from the surf. "You cannot convince her. And why give her the chief? We will share him as we did last night. She would not know what to do with him." She added with teasing scorn, "She is a virgin. She lies with no one."

"It is not her fault," Lihua said defensively. "She did not choose not to give and take pleasure." She turned to Cassie. "I know Lani decided for you because she fears the ugly one will punish you, but surely just one time would not hurt. You can swim out to the boat and taste the English chief and then swim back. A woman should have a stallion for her first lover."

"He will be too big for her," Kalua protested. "If I'd had such a one for my first man, I would never have taken another."

"You were only thirteen. She rides that huge horse, her woman's veil cannot still be there. The fit would be tight but not-"

"What is he doing here?" Cassie interrupted, her gaze on the ship. She was accustomed to their frank discussions of a sexual nature and no longer paid attention to them.

"I've just told you." Lihua giggled. "But I refuse to tell you more; his skill is beyond description. You must find out for yourself."

"These English don't sail into a harbor just to bring pleasure to women. Ask him why he is here."

"Ask him yourself." Kalua turned and struck out for the ship. "I have other things to occupy me."

"I must go." Lihua waded farther into the sea. "Kalua may decide not to share the Chief."

"Do you know nothing about him?" Cassie called after her. "How old is he?"

"Young."

"How young?"

"Younger than the uncle."

"How old is that?"

"I pay no attention to a man's age, if his vigor is strong. You know it's of no importance to me."

It might be of importance to Cassie. Her father had never mentioned the Duke again after they had fled from Marseilles, but he must have been at least her father's age to inspire such terror.

"What is there to know?" Lihua asked. "He is English, he comes here from Tahiti and knows our language. He probably wants something from King Kamehameha, as all the other English did." She reached deep water and struck out after the other women. "And he is a true stallion…"

"Find out his name," Cassie called, but she doubted if Lihua heard. It probably didn't matter. The memory of that day was so faint, she couldn't remember if Papa had mentioned a name. Besides, the prospect of there still being a danger to Papa was slight. British ships had come and gone over the years with no ill consequence. Not many men would travel halfway across the world to destroy an enemy.

She could hear the laughing chatter of the women as they called back and forth to one another in the darkness. She should not linger there. Coming to the village was forbidden, and if she did not get back to the cottage soon, Clara would discover where she had been. What did it matter? Clara would probably find out anyway, and she wanted these final delicious moments of freedom.

She drew a deep breath of the soft salt-laden air and dug her bare toes into the wet sand. She thought she heard Lihua's laughter. Her friends were swimming happily through the cool, silken water. Soon they would be welcomed on board the ship and coupling with joy and vigor. Sweet heaven, her nipples were actually hardening as she envisioned the act, she realized ruefully. Of late her body was constantly betraying her. Lani said it was natural, that her body was ready for a man and the ripening was as beautiful as the blooming of a flower. Yet, if that was true, why wouldn't Lani let her lie with-

"Are you truly a virgin?"

She stiffened and then whirled to face the man strolling out of the thatch of palms. He spoke in the Polynesian language she had used with her friends, but there could be no doubt that he was not one of them. He was as tall, but leaner, and moved with a slow, casual grace, not with the springy exuberance of the islanders. He was dressed in elegant tight breeches, and his coat fit sleekly over his broad shoulders. His snowy cravat was tied in a complicated fall, and his dark hair bound back in a queue.

He is very beautiful and has the grace and lusty appetite of that stallion you love so much.

Lihua was right. He was beautiful. Exotic grace and strength exuded from every limb. High cheekbones and that well-formed, sensual mouth gave his face a fascinating quality that made it hard to tear her gaze away. A stray breeze ruffled his dark hair, and a lock fell across his wide forehead.

Pagan.

The word came out of nowhere and she instantly dismissed it. Clara used the term to describe the islanders, and she would deem it totally unfitting for civilized young noblemen. Yet there was something free and reckless flickering in the stranger's expression that she had never seen in any of the islanders.

Yes, he must be the English, and he was coming from the direction of Kamahameha's village, she realized. Lihua was right, he probably wanted only supplies or trade rights, as the other English did. She did not have to worry about him.

"Well, are you?" he asked lazily as he continued to walk toward her.

He might not be a threat, but she answered in Polynesian with instinctive wariness. "You should not eavesdrop on others' conversations. It's not honorable."

"I could hardly keep from hearing. You were shouting." His gaze wandered from her face to her bare breasts and down to her hips swathed in the cotton sarong. "And I found the subject matter so very intriguing. It was exceptionally… arousing. It's not every day a man is compared to a stallion."

His arrogance and confidence were annoying. "Lihua is easily pleased."

He looked startled, but then a slow smile lit his face. "And you are not, if you're still a virgin. What a challenge to a man. What is your name?"

"What is yours?"

"Jared."

The Duke, not the uncle. The last of her concern vanished as she realized that this man could not be more than thirty. What threat could have been posed by the boy he was then? "You have another name."

His brows lifted. "You're not being fair. You've not told me your name yet." He bowed. "But if we must be formal, I'm Jared Barton Danemount."

"And you're a duke?"

"I have that honor… or dishonor. Depending upon my current state of dissipation. Does that impress you?"

"No, it's only another word for 'chief,' and we have many chiefs here."

He laughed. "I'm crushed. Now that we've established my relative unimportance, may I ask your name?"

"Kanoa." It was not a lie. It was the name Lani had given her and meant more to her than her birth name.

"The free one," the Englishman translated. "But you're not free. Not if this ugly one keeps you from pleasure."

"That's none of your concern."

"On the contrary, I hope to make it very much my concern. I've had very good news tonight, and I feel like celebrating. Will you celebrate with me, Kanoa?"

His smile shimmered in the darkness, coaxing, alluring. Nonsense. He was only a man; it was stupid to be so fascinated by this stranger. "Why should I? Your good news is nothing to me."

"Because it's a fine night and I'm a man and you're a woman. Isn't that enough? I hate to see a woman deprived of-"

He broke off as he came to within a few yards of her. Then with disgust he said, "Christ, you're nothing but a child."

"I'm not a child." It was a common and most annoying mistake. She was very small-boned and tiny compared to the Junoesque islanders and was always being thought younger than her nineteen years.

"Oh, no, you must be all of fourteen or fifteen," he said sarcastically.

"No, I'm older than-"

"Of course you are."

He didn't believe her. It was foolish to argue with a man she would probably never see again. "It doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't," he said roughly. "I heard what Kalua said about having her first man when she was thirteen. Don't listen to her. Pay heed to this old one. You have no business swimming out to foreign ships and coupling with sailors."

"But it's entirely proper for you to fornicate with my friends."

"That's different."

She snorted inelegantly.

He blinked, and then his lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. "You disagree?"

"Men always make themselves the exception to every rule. It's not fair."

"You're right, of course. We're very unfair to females."

She felt a flicker of surprise. She was not accustomed to such easy acquiescence on this subject. Even Papa became defensive when she tried to discuss the issue of man's injustice to women. "Then why don't you stop?"

"Because taking advantage of women makes the world a very comfortable and pleasant place for us males. I'd wager we'll never be anything but unfair until we're forced to it."

"And you will be. It cannot last forever. Mary Wollstonecraft has even written a book that-"

"Mary Wollstonecraft? What do you know of her?"

"Lani was taught by the English missionaries. The Reverend Densworth's wife gave her a copy of Miss Wollstonecraft's book, and she gave it to me."

He groaned. "Good God, and I thought I was leaving the teachings of those Bluestockings behind when I left London."

She frowned in puzzlement. "Bluestockings?"

"Learned ladies like Miss Wollstonecraft. I never thought they'd invade a paradise like this."

"Truth and justice cannot be hidden," she said earnestly.

"I see," he replied solemnly. "Is that what your Miss Wollstonecraft says?"

She felt a hurtful pang. "You're making mock of me."

He frowned. "Dammit, I didn't mean-"

"Don't lie. You did mean it."

"All right, I was mocking you. It's all I know. I'm not accustomed to talking to youngsters like you."

"Well, you don't have to talk to me any longer." She started to turn away. "I won't stay to listen to-"

"Wait."

"Why should I? So that you can mock me again?"

"No." He grimaced. "I'm feeling unusual twinges of conscience. I believe I need absolution." He smiled coaxingly. "Stay and give it to me, Kanoa."

His eyes no longer appeared cold, and his entire being seemed to exude a glowing persuasiveness that was nearly mesmerizing. She had a sudden desire to take a step closer, move nearer to that warmth.

"Why… should I?" she asked again.

"Because you have a kind heart."

"You don't know that I do. You don't know anything about me."

"I know that you were concerned about your friends. Surely that denotes a kind heart."

"It's easy to give kindness to friends. You're a stranger."

His smile faded and he looked out at the sea. "Yes, I am."

Loneliness. She had the sudden feeling that he was speaking of a constant state, and felt an odd sense of kinship. She knew about loneliness.

Foolishness. He was a nobleman, and Lihua had certainly not found anything in him to pity. Yet Cassie found herself saying haltingly, "If you're asking forgiveness, then I give it freely."

He turned to look at her. "Do you? How extraordinarily generous." When he saw her frown with uncertainty, he shook his head. "No, I'm not being sarcastic. I believe you mean it, and the women to whom I'm accustomed give nothing freely." He smiled crookedly. "But, then, you're not yet a woman. You have time to learn the way of it."

The flare of annoyance burned away any pity she had felt for him. "It's no wonder you must pay for your pleasure when you make stupid judgments and your tongue stings like an adder."

He chuckled with genuine humor. "My tongue can do other things than sting. I must show you-" He broke off and sighed. "I keep forgetting that you're not fair sport. I think we'd best discuss something of mutual interest." He glanced over his shoulder at the palm thicket from which he had emerged. "Is that your horse tied to the tree?"

"Yes."

"A fine stallion. I might be interested in buying him, but first I'll have to watch him move. I've seldom seen a more splendid animal."

"He's not for sale." She added flatly, "And you've never seen a more splendid animal. Kapu is without equal."

He threw back his head and laughed. "I beg to disagree, but I approve your loyalty. How did you come by him? I've never heard of islanders raising horses."

"You've not been here long. How could you know anything about us?"

"I've annoyed you again."

He did annoy her. His easy assurance made her feel uncertain, and his physical presence was most disturbing. She sensed the heat of his body only a few feet away and caught the aroma of musk and leather that surrounded him. So different from the men of the village, who carried the scent of salt and fish and the oil of coconut; different also from her father, who usually smelled of brandy and a lemony cologne. Everything about Jared Danemount was different; she had the impression of tremendous strength in spite of his lithe leanness. His light eyes were either blue or gray and very cool. No, that was wrong, they were hot. No… she didn't know what they were, but looking into them was making her uncomfortable. She said in a rush, "You think you have a horse finer than Kapu?"

"I know I have a horse finer than your stallion."

She felt another flare of annoyance at his confidence. "Only a fool would make such a claim after one glance at a horse."

"I took more than a glance. I've never been able to resist good horseflesh, and I had a chance to examine him very closely while you and your friends were playing on the beach." He smiled. "It was only when the conversation became so interesting that I was distracted."

She stiffened. "How close to him?"

"Enough to note the usual things-hooves, teeth…"

"You lie," she said curtly. "Kapu would never let anyone that close. I would have heard him."

"But you didn't."

"And you would not be here now. The last time anyone tried to check Kapu's teeth, he lost a finger."

"Perhaps he likes me. Horses have been known to find me trustworthy."

"You lie," she repeated. It could not be true. Kapu belonged only to her.

His smile disappeared. "I don't lie. I may be guilty of many sins, but that's not one of them."

"Prove it. Go bring him to me."

"I don't take orders from children."

"I thought as much," she said, relieved. "You're afraid of Kapu, like everyone else."

"You're beginning to irritate me." His tone had taken on a steely edge. "I do not lie, and I'm not afraid of your horse."

She glared at him. "Prove it."

Studying her intently, he asked, "Why is it so important to you?"

"I don't like liars."

"No, I don't think that's the reason." He shrugged. "But you shouldn't issue challenges unless you expect them to be accepted." He turned and moved toward the thicket. A moment later he disappeared into the shadows of the palm trees.

He wouldn't be able to do it, she told herself desperately. In the entire world Kapu was the one thing that was fully her own. He would never betray her by yielding to a stranger.

She heard the Englishman's soft murmurings, his voice gentle, tender, almost loving, as different from the silken sharpness with which he had spoken to her as dawn from sunset. Then he emerged from the thicket and came toward her… leading Kapu.

Astonishment and then pain tore through Cassie. Kapu was moving as meekly and contentedly as if she held his reins.

Jared continued murmuring until he stopped before her and extended the reins. "Your horse, I believe."

She could not believe it. She would not believe it. She swallowed to ease the tightness from her throat. How stupid to want to weep because someone else had managed to gain Kapu's confidence enough to perform such a simple act. Even Lani was able to lead Kapu on occasion. He was still Cassie's horse. "An easy task."

"You didn't seem to think it easy when you sent me to fetch him."

Dear God, Kapu was pushing affectionately at Jared's back with his nose.

"Ride him."

He shook his head. "I fear I'm not dressed for riding.

"Ride him!" she said hoarsely, blinking back the stinging tears.

He stared down at her and said slowly, "I don't think you want me to do that."

"You can't do it. I know you can't."

"But you want me to try."

She didn't want him to try, but she had to be sure. She had to know Kapu was not completely swayed from his allegiance to her. "Ride him."

He hesitated. Then he stepped to the side, removed his coat, and dropped it onto the sand. He jerked off his cravat and tossed it on top of his coat. "As you like." He stood before the horse, motionless.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Be quiet," he said impatiently. "It's not right. I need-" He broke off as he saw her expression. "Damnation!"

He leaped onto the back of the horse!

For an instant Kapu was perfectly still.

Cassie's heart sank, and her hands closed into fists at her sides.

Kapu exploded! The stallion reared upright, came down hard, and went into a frenzy of bucking. By some miracle the Englishman stayed on his back.

She heard him curse as his legs gripped Kapu's heaving sides. His dark hair came loose from the queue and flew wildly about his face and shoulders. His lips set in a grim line, and his eyes narrowed with fierce intensity. He was everything savage and primitive; no particle remained of the elegant man who had strolled out of the thicket such a short time before.

Kapu gave up the violent gyrations and bolted toward the palm trees!

Cassie's heart stopped. "Watch out. The tree!"

The Englishman had already divined the horse's intention and swung his leg across Kapu's back as the stallion careened by the trunk, missing it by inches. Then, before Danemount could recover his seat, Kapu began bucking again.

Danemount was tossed over Kapu's head and landed a few yards away in the sand. Kapu neighed triumphantly and stopped in his tracks.

Cassie had a terrible idea she knew what was coming. "Don't," she whispered. "Oh, no…" She ran toward the palms.

Kapu turned and thundered toward the fallen man.

"No, Kapu!" Cassie stopped before Jared, thrusting herself between him and the horse. "No!"

"Get the hell out of the way!" Danemount said as he rolled over and tried to get to his feet. "He'll trample-"

Kapu skidded to a stop in front of her and reared again.

"Shh," she crooned. "Easy, Kapu. He's not the same. He won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Kapu reared again.

Yet she could see signs she was getting through to him. He backed away from her but did not move again when she followed him and laid her hand on his neck. "It's all right. Everything is fine."

It took her a few minutes more of quieting him before she could turn to see if Danemount had come to any harm. "Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride." He raised himself on one elbow and flinched. "And perhaps a few parts of my body."

"You'll recover. The fall couldn't have done much damage. The sand is soft as a cushion. Get up."

When he didn't move, she felt a flicker of concern and walked quickly toward him. Her emotions had been in such a turmoil, she had not thought that he might truly be hurt. "Well, perhaps you'd better lie still for a moment. I'll see if you have any broken bones."

He lay back down on the sand. "I admit I like that suggestion better than the others you've made recently. Does it amuse you to lure strangers into riding that devil of a horse?"

"Kapu is no devil." She knelt beside him and began moving her hands over his limbs. His thighs were all lean, iron-hard muscle, she noted absently, a horseman's thighs. "He's just very particular." She glanced at Kapu, and an intense wave of happiness flowed through her. He was still her own. "He doesn't like anyone on his back but me."

The Englishman's gaze was fixed on her face. "So I found out."

She could afford to be generous now. "You did very well." Having found no breaks in his legs and hips, she began running her hands over his arms and shoulders. Sleek, smooth, corded muscle… like Kapu's. She must be hurting him; he was tensing beneath her touch. "Is there pain?"

"More of an ache," he muttered.

"A sprain?" She gently probed his shoulder. "Here?"

"No, definitely not there."

"Where?"

"Never mind. You can't help."

"Of course I can. I'm very good with sprains. I take care of all of Kapu's hurts."

"I don't have a sprain and I'm not a horse, dammit."

She felt a twinge of pain and tried to cover it with tartness. "No, Kapu is more polite when I try to help him."

"The help can be more troublesome than the cure. I don't-" He broke off when he saw the determination in her gaze. "Christ, do whatever you want."

She sat back on her heels. "It's not as if I want to do anything for you. I feel it my duty since I-" She stopped before she made the admission.

"Since you made me ride the stallion," he finished.

She didn't try to deny it. "It was a mistake. I didn't think." She pulled a face. "Lani says it's one of my worst faults and could prove very dangerous."

"And who is this Lani? Your sister?"

"My friend."

"Then your friend is very perceptive." His gaze searched her expression. "Why did you do it? You knew he'd try to throw me."

"I wasn't sure he would," she whispered. "He liked you. He was mine but he liked you."

"And that's forbidden? How selfish of you."

"I love him," she said simply. "He's all I have. I was afraid."

"I know."

He was smiling faintly, and she realized he had somehow sensed the emotions that had driven her. Had she been that transparent? Probably. She had never been good at hiding her feelings. She quickly averted her gaze and moved her hands from his ribs to his abdomen. "When I first saw you lead him out of the thicket, I thought you must be a Kahuna."

"Kahuna?" He shook his head. "No, I'm not one of your island priests, and I certainly have no magic."

"He's never behaved like that with anyone else. It took seven months for him even to let me in the same stall with him."

"Then you must have done all the hard work. I had only to follow in your footsteps."

He was not the sort to follow in anyone's footsteps. She felt a surge of warmth at the unexpected kindness from a man who said he knew only mockery. "Is it only Kapu?"

"I have a certain gift. I told you, horses have a fondness for me. Perhaps they realize I possess the same animal instincts and feel a kinship." He smiled crookedly. "Which brings me to the suggestion that you'd be wise to remove your hands from my body."

"Why? I'm not finished."

"But I've definitely started." He looked into her eyes and said roughly, "You may be a virgin, but you're no ignorant miss. You know what arouses a man. I'm beginning to forget how young you are and imagine how tight you'd feel. Get your hands off me."

She suddenly realized the muscles of his stomach were clenched and locked beneath her palms. Heat burned in her cheeks as she jerked her hands away. "You're very rude. I was only trying to help."

"If I didn't believe that, you'd be under me, not over me." He sat up and said wearily, "Run along back to your village and stay there."

Stung, she jumped to her feet. "I certainly don't want to remain with you. I've spent too much time here already." She moved toward the stallion. "And Kapu was right to dump you onto the sand. I should have let him pound you into it."

"But you didn't." He rose to his feet. "As I said, you have a soft heart. It's a very dangerous fault in a woman who wishes to maintain her independence." He met her gaze. "Not to mention her untouched state."

She found her anger ebbing as she stared at him. Why was she still standing there? She should leave him as he had ordered her to do. She certainly didn't want to stay with him.

A warm breeze lifted his dark hair from his forehead and molded the material of his shirt against his body, the same wind that was caressing her naked breasts and causing the hair at her temples to brush across her cheeks. She became acutely aware of the salty scent of the sea, the rhythmic sound of the waves rushing against the shore, the grainy roughness of the sand beneath her bare feet. The air seemed suddenly thick and hard to breathe.

"Go on!" he said sharply.

Her hands shook as she mounted Kapu. She was about to turn away when she noticed how pale his stern face appeared in the moonlight. She hesitated before asking, "You're sure you're unhurt?"

He drew a deep breath and said with great precision, "I'm not hurt, Kanoa." An unexpected smile banished the grimness from his face; then he inclined his head in a bow. "I won't say it's been a complete pleasure, but it's certainly been interesting making your acquaintance." He stepped forward and slapped Kapu's rump. "Run along."

The startled stallion lunged forward.

"And, dammit, if you won't cover yourself, stay away from the shore until we're gone," he called after her. "Some of my seamen won't care how old you are."

She was several yards down the beach before she glanced over her shoulder. He was standing where she had left him, gazing after her.

He smiled faintly and lifted his hand in farewell.

She didn't return the gesture. Staring ahead once more, she urged Kapu to go faster. The episode that had taken place had been most unsettling, and she wanted to put time and distance between herself and the Englishman. He had no role in her life, and yet for a moment he had seemed to have the power to dominate it.

Most disturbing…

"Well, I see you've found something to interest you."

Jared turned from watching the girl flying down the beach on the back of the black stallion to see Bradford strolling toward him. "I take it you grew bored with waiting."

"I finished the bottle of brandy," Bradford said mournfully. "Most distressing. I should have noticed that it was only half-full."

"Three-quarters full," Jared corrected. "I wonder you can still walk."

"No, you don't. You know that I seldom get that foxed."

It was true. His uncle had an amazing capacity. He was always a little drunk, but Jared had seen him under the table only a handful of times. "You should have come with me to see King Kamehameha instead of staying on board. They served a heady brew that you would have appreciated."

He grimaced. "Too primitive. I prefer good French brandy."

"I enjoyed it."

Bradford nodded. "But that's because you also have a primitive side to your nature. I noticed it while we were in Tahiti." His gaze went to Kanoa, who was now almost out of sight. "Fine horse. Beautiful gait."

Jared should have known Bradford would notice the horse first.

"I can't tell much from this distance," Bradford went on, "but the woman appears equally fine." He slanted a sly glance at Jared. "I thought you were getting along quite nicely. What did you say to her to make her run away?"

"She isn't a woman, she's a child," Jared said curtly.

"They grow up fast here in the islands."

"But I have no desire to be the catalyst."

Bradford's brows raised. "Good God, you sound positively virtuous."

"She's just a child," he repeated. But one with a strange mixture of qualities-wary and eager, impulsive and caring, bold and yet uncertain.

"Then what was she doing stroking you?"

Christ, he had hoped Bradford had not witnessed that. He would enjoy the explanation far too much. "She wasn't-" He stopped and then admitted, "Her horse threw me."

Bradford stared at him in astonishment. "Indeed?"

"Yes."

He started to laugh. "Amazing. You haven't been thrown since you were a boy. Have you finally found an animal who doesn't appreciate you?"

"Possibly." He shrugged. "I didn't prepare him enough."

"Why not?"

"What difference does it make? I was careless."

"You're never careless. Not with horses." He gazed at him speculatively. "Why?"

"How do I know?" Bradford was right-the impulsive action was not at all like him. It had been evident the stallion was high-strung and dangerously unstable, he should have talked to Kapu longer, soothed him, let him grow used to his touch before mounting him. He deserved that toss and was lucky not to have been trampled. If the girl had not been there, he would have paid heavily for that impulse.

Bradford's gaze went back to the girl and horse. "Pretty?"

Pretty? He didn't suppose so. Except for the thick mane of shining dark hair that flowed nearly to her waist, Kanoa's features were too bold and striking for her to be called pretty. Her jaw was too firm, her lips full and a little pouty, her brows winglike over huge dark eyes that dominated a triangular face. Those eyes had challenged him, and yet he had sensed something fragile and vulnerable about her when she had looked up at him with desperation. He repeated, "She's a child."

Yet not completely a child. Though small, her naked breasts had been perfectly shaped, the nipples dark and pointed…

Bradford chuckled. "That's not what I asked. She must have been a veritable Venus to have you so besotted you can't answer a simple question. Did you find her at Kamehameha's court? Maybe I should have gone with you."

"I didn't go to Kamehameha to find a woman."

"But you found one anyway." Bradford sighed blissfully. "I must admit I've enjoyed our sojourn in this paradise. Beautiful women who give pleasure and no guilt. Can a man ask for more?"

"It seems he can. French brandy."

"Ah, yes, but every paradise has a serpent. This one is fairly innocuous." His gaze returned to Kanoa. "But you shouldn't have been so selfish. Why didn't you invite her to the ship so that we both could enjoy her?"

The flare of hot resentment Jared felt was as startling as it was totally unreasonable. He and Bradford often shared women, and these island beauties had proved eager for the diversion the two men offered them. "For God's sake, why don't you listen? The only thing that child wants between her legs is her damned horse." He turned on his heel and strode down the beach toward the cove. "Forget her. We have more important things to do."

"Not so fast," Bradford complained. "I may not be drunk, but I'm not so steady that I can run."

Smiling affectionately, Jared slowed his pace. "I was thinking only of your dire need for brandy. The sooner we get back to the ship, the sooner you can tap a fresh bottle."

"Well, perhaps I can run… a little." He fell into step with Jared. "Did Kamehameha tell you what you wanted to know?"

"Yes." He felt a return of the excitement that had surged through him when the King had so casually given him the information he had been striving to learn since that hellish night in Danjuet. He had traveled to Paris and Marseilles, then had spent almost a year in Tahiti following Deville's trail before arriving on the islands. It had seemed almost unbelievable that the long search had ended. "He's here."

"Deville?" Bradford pursed his lips in a low whistle. "Are you sure?"

"Charles Deville, a Frenchman who lived in Tahiti for a short time and then came here. It must be he. Everything matches too closely with what we've uncovered for it to be anyone else."

"Did he fit the description?"

"Exactly."

"The wife and daughter?"

Jared nodded. "His English wife died a year after he came here, and he took a Polynesian woman as mistress. There's a daughter, Cassandra, but she never comes to Kamehameha's court."

"Does Deville?"

Jared nodded. "It seems Kamehameha has made something of a pet of him. Deville's done several paintings of the King and his wives. He's permitted to roam all over the island, painting and living off the land."

"Will the king let you take him?"

"He'll have no choice." He smiled with tigerlike ferocity. "If I find him, he's mine."

"I've no doubt he will be. I only hope that Kamehameha isn't too fond of him. I'd hate to have his warriors use one of those exceedingly ugly war clubs on you."

"I don't look forward to that prospect either. I'll have to take him unaware." He thought about it. "The king made a few hints about his desire for British guns. He might be persuaded to turn a blind eye to my taking Deville if he thinks there's a possibility he'll get what he wants."

"Still, it would be easier to kill Deville than try to take him hostage."

"But then I'd have no chance at getting Raoul Cambre. I want both of them dead."

Bradford shook his head. "I hope you get what you want, Jared. It's been a long time and the trail is very cold."

"That's why I have to leave Deville alive until I can squeeze information out of him. Deville was only the weapon-Cambre was the guiding hand."

"Does Deville have a house here on the island?"

"Yes, a cottage in the foothills, but I understand he's seldom there. It appears he has a passion for painting volcanoes. I think it's best to go to Lihua's village tomorrow morning and hire a guide who knows the mountains. We'll try the cottage first, but I want to be prepared."

"I suppose I should be the one avenging John's death. He was my brother, and everyone would say there is some sort of duty owing." Bradford smiled lopsidedly. "I've always had trouble with duty. It has a damnable habit of getting in the way of pleasure."

"I've never blamed you."

"No." Bradford paused. "I've always had trouble with hatred too. I've never hated anyone. I've often thought it was left out of my character. It's hard to kill someone when you feel no hatred for him." He shot Jared a wry glance. "However, you don't suffer from a lack of hate."

"No, I have an abundance of it. Enough for both of us."

"Yes." They had come to the longboat drawn up on the sand, and Bradford began to push it into the surf. "Which is why I left the matter in your hands."

And everything else, too, Jared thought without resentment. When Bradford had been saddled with a thirteen-year-old orphaned nephew to raise, he had resolved the issue by simply treating Jared as if he were a grown man instead of a boy. Jared had attended his first orgy shortly after arriving at his uncle's London lodgings and in the following years was never chastised for drunkenness or licentiousness. The one and only beating he'd received was when Bradford had thought he'd ridden one of his horses too hard. He suspected Bradford loved his horses far better than any human being.

But it was a passion they shared and one that had probably been Jared's salvation.

He didn't have Bradford's head for liquor and soon found he couldn't ride in a race while reeling in the saddle from drunkenness; therefore, it was only sensible to embrace moderation. He'd also learned that if you cuckolded too many husbands, you were in danger of becoming ousted from court, where all the interesting racing took place; therefore, liaisons were formed with carefully chosen demimondaines.

Until tonight.

He had been right not to pursue the lust he had felt at the moment the girl's hands had been on him. He had thought himself a jaded womanizer, but she had somehow managed to touch something soft in him. For an instant her loneliness and vulnerability had reminded him of the boy he had been, the boy who had come back from France and used every bit of recklessness and ferocity at his command to hide the pain and desolation. Now that he had found Deville, he could permit no hint of softness to hinder him.

Besides, virgins could be trouble even in this society, where an untouched state was looked upon only with friendly scorn and amazement. He should be content with the women who swam out to the Josephine and offered themselves. Tonight he would rid himself of this lust with Lihua or her sister and forget all about Kanoa.

And tomorrow he would seek out Deville.

Lani met Cassie in the stand of trees at the foot of the hill leading to the cottage. "Come quick," she said as she thrust Cassie's riding habit at her. "The old woman is pacing like a tiger."

Cassie jumped from Kapu's back, ripped off the sarong, and hurriedly dressed.

"What kept you so long?" Lani asked.

Cassie avoided Lani's glance. "Nothing."

Lani's shrewd gaze narrowed on Cassie's face. "I think your 'nothing' may be 'something,' but we have no time to talk now. The old woman has no idea you went to my village. I told her that you hiked up to the volcano to be with your father. She may spit venom but won't punish you, if you keep silent."

"I'll keep silent." Cassie pulled on her boots, trying to subdue her exasperation. Such a waste of effort to dress and undress for the benefit of one poisonous woman.

"You always say that you'll keep silent," Lani said, "but you seldom do."

"I lose my temper."

"And taste the old woman's sting." Lani frowned in concern. "Be careful tonight. With your father away I may not be able to save you."

Sometimes Lani could not save Cassie from punishment even when her father was at the cottage, but she always tried. Cassie felt a warm surge of affection as she looked at Lani in her starched blue gown and high-bound hair. Life was probably more difficult for Lani than for herself. After running free on the island until her sixteenth year, Lani had come to her father's bed and a household ruled by Clara Kidman. Cassie remembered well those first days of rage and conflict. Poor Lani-she had to fight not only Clara, but Cassie as well, who was as rebellious as an imp of Satan. In time a guarded peace was established, but Lani had been forced to make compromises. Charles Deville would seldom support either Lani or Cassie against Clara. After Cassie's mother's death Clara had become the housekeeper and had dominated everyone in the family. Deville's solution was wonderfully simple and comfortable: he was just not there. It was rare indeed when he was at the cottage for more than one week every month.

"Hurry," Lani urged. "Her anger will only grow as time passes."

Cassie pulled on her other boot, gathered her hair in a bun on top of her head, and rose to her feet. "Go back to the house. I have to take Kapu to the stable."

Lani shook her head. "Tie him to the tree. You were supposed to be on foot. I'll come back for him while you're talking to Clara and put him in his stall."

Cassie tethered Kapu and started up the path toward the cottage. "Wait!" Lani hurried after her, plucked the ginger flowers from her hair, and dropped them to the ground.

Cassie looked down at the flowers. She felt a pang of sadness as she remembered the feeling of freedom and happiness she had experienced when she had tucked those blooms into her hair earlier in the day. It should not be that way, she knew. Beauty should not be ground into the earth or hidden like something foul and forbidden. "This isn't right."

"No, but it's necessary."

"It shouldn't be necessary." She whirled on Lani. "Why do you stay? You'd be much happier back in your village. There's nothing for you here."

"There is you." A radiant smile lit Lani's face. "That is much. And there is your father."

"Who is seldom here, and when he is, he uses you and then leaves you to face your problems alone."

"That does not matter."

"It does matter. You should leave him."

Lani's brows lifted. "If he's so terrible, why do you not leave him? Why do you not take your fine horse and go live in the valley on the other side of the mountain, as you're always telling me you're going to do? What of the herd of wonderful horses you're going to breed?"

She lifted her chin. "I will do it."

"When?"

"I need a mare to equal Kapu."

"And are you going to find her in this cottage on the hill?"

"Of course not."

"Then why don't you leave this terrible man you call Father and go make a life of your own?"

"He's not terrible. He's just-it's not the same. You're not bound to him as I am." She burst out, "He needs me."

"And you love him," Lani said gently. "It's easy to love Charles. He is gentle and kind, and it's not his fault that he was not given the will to withstand adversity. It's very hard to walk away from a man who needs you, isn't it?"

"Is that why you stay?" Her brooding gaze went to the cottage on the hill where Clara waited. "Because he has need of you?"

"It's a strong bond. I'm a woman who must be needed." She touched Cassie's shoulder with a loving hand. "Fulfilling that need enriches me. I feel blessed that I was allowed to come here."

Cassie blinked back tears. "You have no sense." She went into Lani's arms and gave her a hug. "We're the ones who are blessed. We don't deserve you."

"That is probably true," Lani said serenely, then laughed. "Particularly if you cause me more trouble with the old one this night."

"I'll be good." Cassie stepped back and moved quickly up the trail. "I'll be no trouble at all. I promise you."

"You're always good."

Cassie snorted. Nothing could be less the truth. Even when she tried to school herself for Lani's sake, she nearly always failed. "Is that why I ran away today and left you as my father always does?"

"I know you could not stand it any longer. I could see it seething within you yesterday when she was pecking at you with her sharp tongue. You don't have a gentle spirit and sometimes passion overcomes you."

Passion overcomes you…

Lani had not meant the phrase in a carnal sense, but Cassie had a sudden vision of the Englishman on the beach. He had both angered and stirred her. Was this part of the turbulent nature Lani spoke of? The memory of that queer breathless moment before she had left him caused heat to rush through her. It was most unsettling; she would not think about it. "I won't run away again. It's not fair to you."

"You'll do what you need to do. I knew you'd return once your anger had lessened."

"Someday I won't come back. Someday I'll make it happen. I'll take you and Kapu to the other side of the island, and we'll never set foot here again."

"Someday." Lani smiled. "But not while he still needs us. Yes?"

Cassie nodded resignedly. "Yes."

"Now, don't be so gloomy. Did you have a good day? How is Lihua?"

"Good." She paused. "There's an English ship in the bay. She and the others have been swimming out to couple with the sailors."

Lani frowned. "That is not good. She may get the disease."

"I told her. She wouldn't listen."

"No, not when the blood runs hot." Lani added, "I remember when I was only fourteen, a ship from Russia docked in the bay. My mother told me that there was some talk of the foreigners bringing disease, but I paid no attention. I swam out with the others and chose a sailor of my own. He was very strong and brought me much pleasure." She chuckled. "Such foolishness. I was lucky that he did not have the disease."

"Yes." Cassie looked away from her and asked haltingly, "Can you truly have pleasure with a stranger?"

"Of course. As long as there is no cruelty and the man has skill."

"Then why do you say I shouldn't couple with any of the men from your village? They're not even strangers and would be kind to me. Would that be bad?"

"Bad?" Lani grimaced. "Now you're talking like the old one. Have I not taught you better? Love is never bad. It would just be unwise for you."

"Why?"

"You might have a child, and the old one would be very cruel to you, to both of you. You would have to choose between your father and the child." She shook her head. "You have a very loving heart, and to deny either one would hurt you. It is better to wait until the situation alters. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Lani gazed at her curiously. "Why have you never questioned me about this before? Have you found a man you wish to pleasure?"

"No!" Cassie tried to shrug casually. "I just wondered. Sometimes it's difficult for me when I go to the village. I don't feel like a foreigner, but I'm not one of them either. I don't belong anywhere."

"Then you must find your own place."

"I will." She smiled at Lani and repeated, "Someday."

Lani nodded. "It may not be-" Her gaze on the veranda, she broke off and her pace faltered. "There's the old woman. I must leave you here, or she will suspect I told her falsehoods." She moved toward the shrubbery at the side of the trail. "I'll go back and get Kapu, but I may not be able to come to you before morning. I told the old woman I was going to bed. Have you eaten supper?"

"Yes," Cassie lied. Lani had already risked too much for her today. If she admitted that she had not had anything but a piece of fruit since that morning, Lani would move heaven and earth to make sure she was fed. "Go."

Lani gave her another fleeting smile and was gone.

Cassie braced herself and moved quickly toward the woman waiting on the veranda.

Clara Kidman stood straight and forbidding, silhouetted by the candlelight streaming from the room behind her. "Good evening, Cassandra. I trust you had a pleasant day," she said coldly. "How is your father?"

"Well." Cassie walked hastily toward the bamboo door. "He should be home within a few days. He gives you his regards."

"And did you tell him of your rudeness to me?"

Cassie didn't answer.

"Or your undisciplined behavior?" Clara questioned grimly. "I think not. You probably gave him sweet smiles and told him lies about me. It will do you no good. When he comes back, I'll tell him the truth, and he will let me punish you as I see fit."

"Perhaps." She felt the familiar anger tightening her chest. She had made a promise to Lani. She must escape to her room before Clara found a way to get under her guard.

"He knows that such unbridled behavior is not to be permitted. You're turning into as much a pagan as that whore he uses for his lust."

Cassie stopped but did not look at her. "She's not a whore."

"A whore," Clara repeated. "Whore and Jezebel and lost to all goodness."

"She is good. She's kind and generous and-"

"Are you defying me again?"

Cassie wanted to strike out at Clara, but that was what she expected. She knew that Cassie could withstand verbal abuse directed against herself, but an attack on Lani invariably brought a response. She would not lose her temper. She had promised Lani. "I'm not defying you," she said, trying to keep her tone even. "But my father would not like you talking in that fashion about Lani. He truly cares about her."

"Blasphemy. A man who was wed to a woman as pure and saintly as your mother would never feel anything but lust for a harlot who bares her breasts to all the world."

"She doesn't do that anymore."

"Only because I convinced your father how sinful it was to expose you to such behavior. I told him that if he permitted such conduct from her, she would soon be having you running around half-naked."

Cassie felt an instant of satisfaction over her state of undress that day. Lani had taught her that the human body was the most beautiful of creations and she must never be ashamed to bare it. She had an almost irresistible temptation to tell Clara she had not won that particular battle. Her resolve was clearly weakening, and she had to get out of the room before she exploded. "I'm very tired. Good night, Clara."

"If you ponder your sins, I doubt if the night will be good for you."

Don't answer her, Cassie told herself. Keep your promise.

"Cassandra."

She glanced back over her shoulder at Clara. The old one, the ugly one, the Polynesians called her, but at first glance Clara was neither. She had only a few strands of gray in her dark hair that was pulled back in a bun, and her face was clear and unlined. Her features were regular, and she might even be considered handsome if it weren't for her tight expression and the bitter aura that surrounded her.

"This disobedience must stop," Clara said. "I won't permit you to go the way of that native whore. It's time you returned to the civilized world. A few years of schooling in a convent would prove of vast benefit in curbing your behavior."

It was an old threat, but Cassie still felt a ripple of disquiet. "This is my home. My father won't send me away."

"You think not? He gets a little less stubborn each time I speak of the matter." She smiled again. "Good night, Cassandra." She turned and went back out to the veranda.

She was satisfied now that she had caused Cassie uneasiness. What made any person so vindictive as to wrest pleasure from others' pain? When Lani had first come, she had tried to make Cassie understand that people were not born evil, that experiences made them what they were. But now even Lani found it hard to be kind. Clara seemed to thrive on the power she had wrested from her position here, and each year she grew more greedy.

Cassie shivered and looked away from the woman who now stood quite still at the wooden balustrade, looking up at the moon. She went to her room down the hall and closed the door. Safe. Clara had removed the locks after her mother had died, but she seldom intruded here. Cassie crossed to the window and threw open the shutters. Had she given Lani enough time to get Kapu to the stable?

With relief she saw Lani moving toward the house from the direction of the stable. She would avoid the veranda, slip through the back door, and be in her room before Clara could discover her. All secure.

But Cassie did not feel safe. She felt unsettled and unsure. She had the odd premonition that everything had changed tonight. Yet nothing had really happened. She had merely met an Englishman who had aroused in her strange and disturbing emotions.

Well, she must forget him. His world was far away and incomprehensible to her. Her world was going to be in the beautiful valley across the island. She and Lani and Papa would raise fine horses, and they would be as free as Lihua and the other villagers.

Lihua was probably in the Englishman's bed now, writhing, crying out…

Cassie's knuckles turned white as she gripped the shutter. The sudden surge of anger took her off guard. Jealousy? Impossible. She had never experienced jealousy before and would certainly not envy her friend any pleasure. She had lived too long among the islanders not to have accepted their belief that all possessions should be shared.

But she had known jealousy when she had seen the Englishman leading Kapu toward her-jealousy and possessiveness and desperation that the treasure of Kapu's affection would be taken away. Perhaps she had not absorbed as much of the generosity of Lani and the islanders as she had hoped.

She closed the shutters and turned away from the window. She would go to bed and forget everything that had transpired tonight. No doubt when she was less weary, this strange restlessness would vanish.