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."