kindness with a call as soon as I can.”
Jerusha chuckled. “Yes, Miss Julia.”
“Thank you.” Julia squeezed the housekeeper’s arm before hurrying through the house and out the door at the end of the bedroom corridor. The bright blue sky, the delicious heat of the afternoon, and the salty breeze blowing off the bay wiped away the previous two hours’ tribulation so much so that she did not mind the armed guard who trotted along behind her as she hurried to the plantation office.
The square white building sat at the edge of the cane field. With a deep porch that ran around the outside of the building, it could have made a very pretty little house. All the doors and windows were open to catch the cooling sea breeze; but unlike the main house, there were no gauzy white drapes to catch the current and wave in welcome. Julia paused as soon as she stepped into the central hall to let her eyes adjust from the brightness outside. Three of the building’s four rooms were used as offices; the fourth room with a large table in it made a good place to work in a group. Upstairs were the living quarters for the plantation steward.
Julia passed the stairs with a glance upward and clenched her teeth. She would find out what Henry Winchester had been up to if it was the last thing she did. Bypassing her own office on the front left corner, she went to the room behind it, but Jeremiah was not in his office. A scuffing sound drew her attention, and she crossed the hall and stepped through the open doorway into the steward’s office.
Jeremiah sat at Henry Winchester’s desk rifling through the drawers. Julia stepped further into the room. “Jeremiah? What are you doing? Where’s Winchester?”
“That’s why I sent for you, Miss Julia. That thieving scoundrel is gone.”
Chapter Six
T he savory aroma of the roasted chicken was enough to make Charlotte cry, but she had survived worse in her weeks aboard
Audacious
. She could survive this. Never before had she seen such sumptuous fare served aboard a ship at sea, but Captain Salvador—though his tastes in furnishings seemed simple—enjoyed elaborate dining. And his steward had presented his captain with meals even Lady Fairfax would have been proud to serve.
Of course, Charlotte could not vouch for the tastiness of the food, not having eaten any herself. She averted her eyes to keep from seeing the chicken’s juices running down the meat as Salvador cut into it. Her stomach groaned with hunger, and she swallowed against a wave of nausea. How could he do this to her?
Onto a plate with a succulent chicken breast, Salvador piled vegetables and fruits Charlotte had never seen—all of which served only to pique her curiosity as to what they would taste like and feel like in her mouth, which watered ferociously.
Must he make her sit at the table during meals? It was bad enough that the smell of the food filled the entire small cabin three times a day. She closed her eyes and squeezed her hands together in her lap. She’d never thought there would come a time when she would long for the stringy, greasy mutton that had been the staple of the midshipmen’s diet aboard
Audacious
.
Salvador looked at her for a long moment before he started eating. Charlotte closed her eyes and turned her face away from him. She could survive this.
“Marvelous chicken. Suresh has outdone himself once again,” Salvador said between bites. “He has a way of combining spices to make even this mean chicken into a delicacy. And the vegetables…I would imagine there’s not a table in Jamaica that could boast better, not even the vaunted Tierra Dulce.”
A tear trickled out of the corner of Charlotte’s right eye before she could stop it. How could he be so cruel? Couldn’t he see how hungry she was?
When silence fell, Charlotte opened her eyes and looked at her captor. She turned her head away again quickly, not wanting to witness the scrutiny in his gaze. But that he watched her for any