Free A Taste of Paradise by Connie Mason Page A

sail.
    The days began to grow too warm for the wool jacket Sophia wore, but she didn’t dare take it off. One day Casper noticed sweat running down her forehead and suggested that it was warm enough now to discard the wool jacket and knit cap.
    â€œYou don’t need those heavy clothes now, miss,” Casper said. “The closer we get to Jamaica, the hotter it’s going to get.”
    â€œI agree, the jacket and cap are a bit much,” Sophia replied somewhat wistfully, “but not wearing them would attract too much attention. The captain wouldn’t like it.”
    â€œBut, miss, I don’t understand why . . .” His words fell off as comprehension dawned. He ducked his head. “Oh . . . well, I’ll see what I can do.” He trotted off.
    Sophia smiled and returned to the knot she had been working on. Not thirty minutes later, Casper returned with a short-sleeved, open-necked canvas shirt, much like the one the sailors had donned once they reached warmer climes. Sophia exclaimed in delight. The material was not transparent, and it was bulky enough to mask her femininity.
    â€œYou’re a lifesaver, Casper,” Sophia exclaimed. “I can’t wait to put it on and soak up some of this delightful sunshine.”
    The next day, and every day after that, Sophia wore the canvas shirt when she went topside. Since Chris offered no objection to her new shirt, Sophia decided to discard the cap. She braided her black hair into one long braid and let it dangle down her back.
    On most days she stretched out on coiled ropes on deck and dozed in the sun. Chris was right. English weather could not compare with day after day of sunshine and tropical breezes. Sophia’s skin began to take on a golden tint. If her mother were alive, Sophia knew she would be horrified. She would force Sophia to remain indoors with a bleaching solution of lemon juice on her face and arms. But Sophia didn’t care if the color of her skin made her look unattractive. There was plenty of time to worry about that during her return voyage to England.
    Suddenly a shadow fell over her, blocking out the sun. “The sun is turning your skin. You should move into the shade. English ladies aren’t supposed to tan—it’s unfashionable.”
    Sophia squinted up at Chris. She held out a sun-bronzed arm. “I had no idea my skin would tan so well. Does the color offend you?”
    â€œMany things about you offend me, but I don’t want to get into that now. I thought young Englishwomen were taught to shun the sun. You should have a bonnet.”
    â€œI suppose most women protect their skin from the sun, but I’m not most women. I’ll never be able to enjoy this kind of warmth again, and I intend to take advantage of it while I can.”
    â€œCaldwell won’t recognize you if you allow yourself to get much darker.”
    â€œThat suits me just fine. I have no intention of seeing Rayford ever again. I’m old enough to make my own way in life.”
    â€œHow will you support yourself?”
    â€œI received a good education. I can hire myself out as a governess.”
    Chris’s lips twitched. He wanted to laugh out loud but restrained the urge. He couldn’t imagine a Society matron with eyes in her head hiring someone as attractive as Sophia. She would have a hard time protecting her virtue from the males in the family. Why that thought bothered him he didn’t know, except that Sophia was becoming a bigger problem than he had expected. Instead of causing dissension among his crew, she was becoming their little pet.
    â€œWhat do you find amusing?” Sophia asked. “Do you doubt my intelligence?”
    â€œNever,” Chris averred. He dropped the subject. “You should be able to see Jamaica in a few days.”
    Sophia’s eyes searched his face. “I hate the thought of returning immediately to England without seeing something of the island.