The Island of Love (Camfield Series No. 15) (9 page)

As he spoke he took her arm and led her along the deck to where the sailors were lowering another lifeboat.

The officer saw them and turned to say:

“Please hurry, M’Lord. We’re having difficulty in this sea.”

He spoke quite calmly and the Earl replied:

“We are doing our best, Officer.”

As he spoke a wave splashed over the rails and covered both him and Lydia with spray.

She felt the salt water running down her face, and as it was also in her eyes it was hard to see.

The Earl dragged her forward and a moment later she was lifted up and placed in the boat.

She wanted to put out her hands to hold onto him and beg him to come too.

Then to her relief she heard the officer say:

“Get in, M’Lord. We cannot take to the boats ourselves until all our passengers are accounted for.” The Earl climbed in sitting down beside Lydia and, as if it were the most natural thing to do, he put his arm around her and held her close to him.

Then in what seemed to her only a very few seconds the boat was full and lowered into the sea.

As they reached the water they were soaked by the spray and the boat itself was plunging up and down in what Lydia thought was a terrifying manner.

Yet because she was beside the Earl and his arm was holding her, she was not really frightened. She knew however, that by this time Heloise would be frantic and was doubtless still screaming.

The sailors pulled away from the ship, rowing strongly, but at the same time finding it extremely difficult to hold the boat in any degree of steadiness in such a violent sea.

More and more waves splashed over them, and as Lydia saw one of the seamen start bailing out the water which was rising round their feet the Earl asked:

“Can you swim?”

“Yes,” Lydia replied, “but I have never swum in a sea as rough as this.”

“Let us hope it will not be necessary,” he said in a low voice, “but if we do have to take to the water hold onto me, and I will look after you.”

It was what she wanted to hear, and it flashed through her mind that if they were drowned together she would not mind because she would not be alone.

At the same time she wanted to live, and she was sure that the Earl would survive because, as she had thought before, he was always the victor, the conqueror, a man who always won through whatever the odds against him.

It was impossible to see at all far, for although there was a moon overhead the light from it was intermittent.

At the same time the wind was so strong that Lydia felt as if as it beat against her face it blew her hair high into the air, and distorted everything.

The Earl looked back and Lydia also turning her head could now see the ship heaving up and down, the centre of it brilliant with the light from the fire, the flames leaping up against the darkness.

“How could this have happened?” she asked in a low voice.

The wind almost swept the words from her lips, but the Earl heard them.

“She is an old ship,” he said. “It will be difficult to save her.”

The boat they were in was swamped again by a huge wave.

Then as the officer gave sharp orders one after another, a wave that seemed to loom up above them like an avenging angel crashed down into the little boat so that the men rowing could do nothing but duck their heads as it fell on them.

In that moment the boat went out of control and almost before Lydia could realise what was happening she found herself tipped into the sea and its coldness engulfed her.

She came up gasping and felt the Earl’s hand reach out towards her.

“Hold onto me!” he said sharply. “The shore is not far ahead.”

She clutched at his coat and started to swim, striking out with her legs.

Her blanket had floated away and she felt relieved that she was wearing nothing but her nightgown which made it easier for her to swim.

Then there was another wave and she felt as if she was going down into the very depths of the ocean.

She came up again and thought she must be in the surf that beat against the beaches of Hawaii.

Before she even had time to breathe, another wave struck her so hard that it carried her a long way forward and she felt something strike her forehead.

Then there was nothing but darkness ...

Lydia came back to consciousness slowly, and it took a little while before she was aware that she was lying on her back and there was sunshine.

For a moment she could not understand what had happened. Then she remembered.

Slowly she put her hand up to her forehead and found a place near her hair which hurt when she touched it.

Then as her memory told her that the ship had been on fire and the boat in which they had left it had overturned, she opened her eyes.

Above her she saw the waving green leaves of a palm-tree and knew she was lying on the sand.

She put her hand down as if to reassure herself it was not the water, then very slowly and with difficulty she sat up.

For a moment she thought she must be dreaming.

After the agony of the night, the roughness of the sea and the violence of the waves, she could hardly believe that just in front of her, now placidly lapping the shore, was the sea.

It was smooth and golden from the sun, with only a faint hint of foam as it moved gently in and out with a musical sound.

“It cannot be true!” Lydia told herself.

Then some distance out to sea she could see the grey outline of
HMS Victorious.

The ship was still afloat, the fire was no longer burning, and she thought, although she could not be sure, that there was movement on the deck.

Now she looked about her and saw she was on the shore of a small sandy bay.

She had been lying in the shelter of some palm-trees, and behind her was the wild vegetation of the jungle.

It was certainly very beautiful with hibiscus flowering everywhere, as well as blossoms of yellow, pink, blue, cerise, orange and red, and dozens of other shades which she knew from her books must be the fragrant plumerias.

They were so lovely that she could only sit looking at them, finding it was hard to believe that they really existed apart from her imagination.

There were poinsettias and jacara, and a dozen other species she thought she recognised. Then suddenly as she stared in amazement, feeling because her head hurt her, bewildered and disorientated, she was aware that she was alone.

She had been so relieved in the first moments of regaining consciousness that she had only thought of how she had reached here and not who had been with her.

Now with a stab of her heart, she looked around, hoping that if she was here the Earl would be here too, and perhaps he was lying somewhere near on the sand.

But there was no one and the only sound was of the birds singing in the trees and bushes.

“Where can he be?” Lydia asked herself.

Then with a knife-pain that seemed to strike through her she was suddenly afraid.

It had not before struck her that though she was alive, he might be drowned.

Now she struggled to her feet, feeling that she must go and look for him and wondering frantically where he could be.

Then an agony of fear ran through her veins like a poison and made her think that perhaps after she had struck something which had rendered her unconscious he had saved her life and in doing so, lost his own.

“Oh, God, do not let that have happened!” she prayed. “He must be ... safe, he must ... be!”

She looked around wildly, staring out to sea as if she felt she might see his body floating in it.

Then she tried to search in the thickness of the vegetation, but knew she could not force her way through the bushes, to look for him.

Then commonsense told her that he would not be likely to be hiding from her in the jungle, and if he was not in this bay, perhaps the sea had carried him further along the coast.

“I must find him! I must!”

She pushed back her hair from her forehead and realised that it was quite dry which told her she must have been on the beach for a long time.

Anyway, it was now early in the morning, and the sun was coming up the sky.

Although she had no means of knowing whether or not she was right, she guessed it was perhaps five o’clock or a little earlier.

Her legs felt weak and she knew that her whole body ached from the effort of swimming in a rough sea and being buffeted about as if she was nothing more than a piece of driftwood.

She knew she had to search for the Earl and the only decision she had to make was in which direction she should start looking.

As she took her first steps over the sand she saw coming round the trees at the very edge of the bay the tall figure of a man.

For a moment because she found it difficult to focus her eyes she had no idea who it could be.

She only saw that he was naked to the waist and it flashed through her mind that he might be an Hawaiian, and perhaps he was hostile as the Hawaiian Warners had been to Captain Cook.

Then with a little cry of joy she saw that it was the Earl.

Without thinking, without considering, she ran towards him, speeding over the sand, forgetting everything but the wonder of knowing that he was safe.

She reached him with her arms outstretched and flung herself against him crying incoherently:

“You are ... alive! Oh, thank God ... you are ... alive!”

He caught her in his arms, then as she looked up at him her eyes and her whole face radiant because she had found him, his lips came down on hers.

It was no shock.

It was as if it was inevitable, ordained from the beginning of time, that after the horror through which she had passed he should come to her unharmed when she thought she had lost him.

She felt his lips hold her captive, and because it was everything she had longed for and thought she would never know, she surrendered herself to a rapture that enveloped her like a burning light.

She felt a streak of ecstasy seep through her so poignant, so sharp, that it was almost a pain as well as a rapture.

He kissed her until she felt as if she merged into him and was no longer herself.

He raised his head to look down at her for a moment. Then he was kissing her again, kissing her with long, slow demanding kisses which made her thrill with sensations she had never known existed.

She only knew she had reached Paradise and that nothing else existed but the Earl’s arms, his lips and him.

Only when Lydia felt that nobody could know such glory and not die with the wonder of it did she give a little murmur and hide her face against his shoulder, “I thought you were ... dead!” she murmured. “I ... I thought I had ... lost you!”

“I am alive, my precious,” the Earl said, “and so are you!”

He put his hand under her chin and turned her face up to his.

He kissed her gently in a way that was different from the possessive demands of his lips before,

“I was so ... afraid,” Lydia whispered.

His arms tightened around her and he said: “Come and sit down, my darling. We shall be rescued later, but now I want to make sure that you are not hurt in any way.”

“I am ... all right.”

She could hardly speak.

All she knew was that her love enveloped them both with a radiance that made it impossible to think of anything else except that she was close to the man she had loved for so long, and he had kissed her.

As if he knew what she was feeling he said quietly: “How could I help it, when it is what I have wanted to do for so long?”

“You ... wanted to ... kiss me?”

“Of course I wanted to kiss you!” he said fiercely.

“But...”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, “there are so many ‘buts,’ so many things to come between us.”

“But...” Lydia murmured again.

The Earl drew her to the foot of a plumeria tree, and they sat beneath it with its blossoms, in this case of pale pink, dropping down on them like blessings from above.

He put his arms around Lydia and as she moved closer to him she became aware that he was nearly naked.

He had nothing on except his trousers and she supposed he must have found his coat cumbersome when swimming and had shrugged it off when they were fighting against the overwhelming waves that had eventually carried them to the shore.

Instinctively she put her hands over her breasts and the Earl smiled before he said:

“There is no point, my darling, in trying to be modest at this particular moment. I want to thank God that we are alive and although you have a bruise on your forehead, I do not think it is very serious.”

“I ... I was unconscious!”

“Just as we reached the shore you hit your head against a piece of flotsam. I dragged you out of the water and knew it was only a temporary unconsciousness. Then after all you had been through you must have fallen asleep.”

Lydia gave a little laugh.

“How could I have done anything so absurd?”

“It often happens,” the Earl replied, “and after I satisfied myself that you were safe I went to investigate where we were and how many others had been cast up also on this particular island.”

“We are not alone?”

“Only in this bay,” he replied. “The boat crew are further along the coast and since when I saw them they were very inadequately clothed, it would be best for you to stay here.”

“I want to be with ... you.”

“And I want you to be with me, my precious,” he said. “But God knows what we are going to do about each other.”

Lydia had forgotten her sister and that the Earl was engaged to her, forgotten everything except that they were alone, that he had his arms around her and had kissed her.

Now she was suddenly overwhelmed by the way in which she had behaved.

She looked down her eye-lashes dark against her cheeks as she said:

“I ... I am sorry ... I suppose I should be ashamed.”

“Nobody could be more wonderful,” the Earl
said
quietly, “for you must know, my darling one, I love you.”

She looked up at him in astonishment.

“Did you ... really say that?”

“I will say it again, a thousand times if you like, but we are both aware that the real question is—what can we do about it?”

For a moment it did not seem to matter and Lydia asked:

“When did you know you ... loved me?”

The Earl smiled and said:

“I think it was the first time we met. I saw your eyes, and because they were worried I found it impossible to think of anything else. I think also we were both aware that we vibrated to each other in a way that was unusual and which actually had never happened to me before.”

She looked at him as if she found it hard to believe what he said.

Then he gave a short laugh.

“I know it sounds ridiculous and of course I have often been attracted at first sight, or amused, or infatuated by a woman’s beauty, but never, and this is the truth, Lydia, never has it been the same as when I first saw you.”

She gave a deep sigh.

“I think,” she said in a very small voice, “that it is what I felt for you when I first saw you out hunting and thought that nobody could be more attractive or more fascinating.”

“You are flattering me!”

She shook her head.

“It is not flattery. I am telling you what I felt, and I thought too that you looked like a buccaneer or a pirate, and as if you always got what you wanted, whatever it might be.”

“I hope that is true,” the Earl said in a serious voice, “for what I want, more than I have ever wanted anything in the whole world, is you!”

She looked at him as if she could hardly believe what he had said and he went on:

“Oh, my precious, you are so different from any other woman! I adore your unselfishness, the way you think of everybody else and never about yourself. I love your courage, and of course, the way you stimulate my mind.”

Lydia gave a little laugh.

“As you stimulate mine.”

“We were meant for each other,” the Earl said, “and it is only through my own stupidity that we are in the position in which we find ourselves now.” Almost as if she had suddenly appeared beside them Lydia knew that Heloise was there, pushing them apart from each other, spoiling the rapture that she could feel vibrating between them, which joined them indivisibly as one person.

As if he felt that he must tell her about it, the Earl said:

“I have no excuse for making such a mess of things. It was just a stupid gesture of pride, for which I have lain awake night after night, cursing myself.”

Because the pain in his voice showed her how much he was hurt by what he was saying, Lydia moved a little closer to him.

“I want you to know the truth,” the Earl said, “and then, my darling, you must help me, because for the moment I have no idea how to help myself.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I became involved with a beautiful lady,” the Earl explained, “and as you thought, she looked somewhat like your sister with fair hair, blue eyes and a clear, unblemished skin.”

Because Lydia knew he was speaking of the Duchess of Dorchester, she did not interrupt and he went on:

“I was warned that her husband was jealous, and that I could expect him to challenge me to a duel. That, as you know, is illegal but it does frequently happen. At least he would prevent me from seeing his wife again.”

The Earl paused and Lydia asked in a voice so soft he could hardly hear it:

“What happened ... then?”

She could hardly bear to hear what he was telling her, but at the same time she wanted to know the truth.

“The Duke was too clever to do either of those things,” the Earl went on, “and instead he went to the Queen.”

“The Queen!”

“He intimated to Her Majesty that a scandal would be detrimental both to his position at Court, and to mine.”

Lydia drew in her breath.

“So the Queen sent you away!”

“Exactly!” the Earl replied. “She commanded me to represent her at the Coronation in Hawaii.”

“And you had to obey her command.”

“Of course. But I was afraid that people might suspect the reason for my departure and laugh, so to save my pride, I asked your sister to marry me.”

“So that is how it was!” Lydia whispered.

“I had met her once or twice,” the Earl continued, “and thought her very beautiful—in fact without exception, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. For years my relatives have been begging me to marry and I thought my engagement would be a snub to those who would be only too quick to say that I had been rebuked by Her Majesty for behaving like a naughty boy!”

“I ... understand,” Lydia said softly.

“My darling, I knew you would,” he said. “But how could I have known, how could I have guessed that in doing so I would crucify myself?”

He paused before he said:

“I have never, and this is the truth, never been in love, until I met you.”

“Can you ... really mean ... that?”

She looked up into his eyes as she spoke.

In that moment they were joined by an indivisible magnetism and it was impossible to move.

Then the Earl said:

“I thought your sister beautiful and so she is. But it is entirely a surface beauty which will fade when she grows older as a flower fades once it has come to full bloom. You are different.”

“In what ... way?”

“Your beauty comes from your heart, your soul, and perhaps from the Power that you believe will help us when we need it most.”

He made a sound that was half a laugh and half a groan as he added:

“My darling, if ever we needed that Power, we need it now! For how else can you be mine, as I want you to be?”

“You want me ... you really ... want me?”

“Ever since we came on this journey,” the Earl said, “I have been wondering how I could live without you.”

He spoke quite simply and yet it seemed to Lydia as if his voice rang out like a clarion call and she knew her whole being leapt in response.

“I ... love you!” she said. “You know I would do anything you ... asked me to do.”

“That is what I thought you would say,” the Earl replied, “but how, my precious, could I ask you to do anything so dishonourable as to run away with me, and offend against the code of behaviour in which you and I have been brought up?”

He gave a deep sigh before he said:

“I have given my word as a gentleman that I will marry your sister. God alone knows how I can tell her that I am so deeply in love with you that marriage to her is impossible!”

“No, no! You cannot do that!”

Lydia felt as she spoke that she was throwing away her only chance of happiness and closing the gates of Heaven for ever.

But she knew that to the Earl his word of honour was as sacred as if he had already made his marriage vows, and it would be wrong of her to encourage him to break his engagement or even allow him to think it was possible.

It flashed through her mind that as he was of such social importance, and so many people admired him as a sportsman, he could only behave honourably, however much he suffered in doing so.

As if he was following what she was thinking the Earl suddenly cried:

“I cannot lose you! I cannot!”

At the same time he pulled her against him and was kissing her again; kissing her with hard possessive, passionate kisses, as if he was forcing her to become his.

Only as he became aware of his own violent desire for her and felt she responded to him did he raise his head to say in a different voice but still a little unsteadily: