Silver Sea (52 page)

"In broad daylight?" He laughed dismissively. "Besides, we need to sleep."

"Has marriage tamed you completely?" Her eyes roamed over him. "A little madness can be delicious."

The guinea fowl were scratching in the garden below, sending up their incessant creaking call, and a rosy-gold light filled the bedroom. A soft island breeze wafted in, carrying with it the distant sound of the Atlantic rollers breaking on the beach.

Nathan looked into Adrienne's sultry eyes and felt the answering heat in his own loins. "Are you accusing me, your husband, of going soft?" He arched a dark brow.

"I know better than to make such a foolish charge." She grinned.

"Might I remind you that I have done battle at sea tonight?"

"My hero!" Adrienne climbed onto his lap, and they exchanged a long, smoldering kiss. "You can tell me all about your shipwreck on the way to our beach. Then you can lie back on the sand and let the water come over you, and I'll straddle your hips... if you take my meaning..."

"I
am
persuaded that we can sleep another day."

With that, they scrambled off the bed, grabbing up clothes and laughing, heading off to enjoy another Barbados sunrise.

The End

Author's Note

Like most of my books,
Silver Sea
evolved over a period of years, beginning with a brief trip I made to Barbados in 1987. I learned about Sam Lord, "The Regency Rascal," who
may
have lured ships onto the rocks near his mansion on the island's east coast. Since many doubt that Sam Lord carried out the evil deeds with which he's been credited, I decided to create my own character—Xavier Crowe!—based on Sam Lord's legend. "Crowe's Nest," the home of my character, Xavier Crowe, is nearly identical to Sam Lord's Castle, which has been restored and is now the centerpiece for a Marriott resort.

I came to love Barbados while doing research for this book and its companion,
Tempest.
I found a home away from home during two stays at the century-old pink Ocean View Hotel, where owner John Chandler made me welcome. John, his staff, and his friends spent hours answering my questions and telling incredible stories. I tasted all the great Bajan dishes, home cooked at the Ocean View, and learned about the flora and fauna from John, who filled the hotel with his own floral arrangements, gathered from all over the island. One special day, John took me for a customized all-day tour—and, among other hidden treasures, introduced us to Cave Bay (the sight of "Victoria Villa"). Incredible! You can't even imagine the color of the water, and there really is a ruined plantation house there (circa 1910, John reckons). Its real name is Harrismith.

Since the 1995 publication of
Silver Sea
(then titled
Barbados
), the Ocean View Hotel has closed, but John Chandler has gone on to manage the even more wonderful Fisherpond House, a plantation house built in 1635 where you can spend the night or just enjoy a special meal. It's filled with John's extraordinary antiques and colorful personality!

If you have a chance to travel to Barbados, you may hear people of all colors speaking Bajan, a rich, hybrid language that intermingles African and European speech. You'll also be able to visit many of the locations from
Silver Sea,
and you can tour St. Nicholas Abbey, my inspiration for Nathan's home, Tempest Hall. St. Nicholas Abbey is a wonderfully maintained seventeenth-century Jacobean-style plantation, where the four fireplaces have never been used, the sandbox tree still towers in back, and the guinea fowl scurry about making their creaking calls.

And, if you go to Barbados, you might sample the flying fish and callaloo, smell the fragrant plumeria, see the wild green monkeys playing, and swim in the ocean at sunrise, imagining all the while what the island was like for Adrienne and Nathan....

In the coming months, I'll be releasing
Tempest
for the first time! It's set in Newport, Rhode Island and Barbados, in 1903. The hero is Nathan and Adrienne's grandson, Adam Raveneau, who's gambled away most of the family fortune and needs funds to restore the now-crumbling Tempest Hall. Cathy, the heroine, is a Newport heiress who must be rescued from an arranged marriage to a boring duke. They need each other, but is it love? Come back to Barbados with me and find out.

Until then, thank you again for reading and enjoying my books. I appreciate every one of you!

Cynthia Wright

Page forward for more by Cynthia Wright

Excerpt from

Silver Storm

Special Author's Cut Edition

Raveneau Novel #1

by

Cynthia Wright

SILVER STORM is the story of Devon Lindsay, a high-spirited girl who lives in New London, CT during the Revolutionary War. Since the death of her father and brother at sea, Devon and her mother have run a small shop, struggling to make ends meet. She dreams of growing up and going to sea herself, longing to see the world, and spins dreams and plans with her childhood friend, Morgan Gadwin. During Chapter One, 13-year-old Devon is captivated by her first sight of the legendary privateer captain Andre Raveneau. Word reaches New London that war has broken out between England and the Colonies, and Devon's schoolmaster, Nathan Hale leaves to join the militia. Chapter Two begins five years later, when Devon is 18.

From Chapter Two.

October 20, 1780

New London glowed with autumn's deepest colors. Leaves of crimson, gold, rust, and saffron blanketed the stone walls that bordered every road; pumpkins lay fat and orange on their vines; bright red apples dripped from orchard branches.

Devon, at eighteen, seemed an additional gift of the season. Her cloud of strawberry-blond curls and her soft creamy skin were more beautiful than ever against the fiery leaves, and the sight of her on the street lightened the hearts of the war-weary citizens.

On this October afternoon she strolled toward the Beach, a faded hatbox swinging on her arm. Deborah had labored for hours over the bonnet that Nick had ordered for his wife's birthday, a perfect copy of a European original. Devon had stern instructions to deliver it directly to the Nicholson home, yet she could not resist the urge to make a detour along the waterfront. Pausing in the shadow of a Shaw warehouse, she surveyed the activity on the docks. True to her mother's prediction, war had changed New London. The past five years seemed like a dark eternity.

The town itself harbored nearly sixty successful privateers, and the anchorage was used by vessels from all over America, even Europe. Many New London men had chosen to join the army, and ships had been built for the State and Continental navies, but privateering was supreme. Privately owned vessels had been armed and fitted out at their owners' expense for the purpose of capturing enemy craft, and everyone—owners, crew, and the government—divided the booty. Five years ago it had all seemed a great romantic adventure.

Devon thought sadly of the night she had said goodbye to Nathan Hale. Eighteen months later the young captain she had so admired had disguised himself as a Dutch schoolmaster to spy on the British who occupied Long Island. He was discovered and hanged on September 22, 1776. Too many men, men she had known since birth, were now dead like Mr. Hale, or imprisoned.

New London lived under a cloud of fear; even now Devon could see a great British ship anchored to the south in Long Island Sound. The townspeople expected to be attacked at any moment and there had been countless false alarms, leading to the evacuation of all women, children, the ill, and the elderly. Devon's heart tightened at the remembered nightmares: screaming, sobbing, praying all around her as wagons rumbled out of town in the middle of the night.

Less than a month ago General Benedict Arnold had conspired to surrender West Point to the British. Though his plot had been discovered, he had escaped, and New London continued to reel under the shocking blow, for Arnold had grown up just ten miles north, in Norwich. Until now, his exploits had been a source of deep pride to everyone from the area. Disillusionment and mistrust abounded. Neighbors and lifelong friends suspected one another of being Tories; several had actually admitted their loyalties and left for British-occupied New York town, including the local Anglican minister.