Free Love's Fiery Jewel by Elaine Barbieri Page A

maintained for just such an occasion. The Sally
would not be challenged. He owed himself and his men
some leisure time in a port where they were practically an
institution even if it was a whispered fame. And that was
the irony of the situation. Having made the decision to
enter Jamaica legally for the first time in many years, the
Sally had become becalmed. She had been floating in the
same area for three long days, seeing less movement than
she had seen in dry-dock the last time around!
    "Hell!" he thought, impatiently shifting his broad
frame for a brief glance across the motionless horizon. He had had his fill of still, hot air that sat on a man's
shoulders with soul-wearying weight. He was anxious to
be on to Kingston.

    His brow knitting into a small frown, a persistent
thought returned to his mind, effectively mounting his
agitation even as he attempted to ignore its nagging
presence. It was only by chance that he had learned that
Marian Greer had died a few months ago. The damned
brat with the purple eyes was an orphan... she was
alone... Refusing to acknowledge the sudden tightening in his stomach that recurring thought evoked and the
influence that bit of information had had on his sudden
desire for leisure time in Jamaica, he rationalized
silently, "Well, at least she is assured of an ample supply
of food." He had seen to it on his last trip to Kingston
that the usual portion of supplies was delivered to her
door, and if she continued to be as shrewd as she had been
in the past, he was relatively certain that food would not
now be a problem for her. He had also learned through a
few inquiries that Amethyst had been gradually assuming
more and more of her mother's acting duties while the
sickly woman recuperated from repeated illnesses, and
had been well received by the audiences in Kingston. A
scoffing expression covered his handsome face for a few
brief seconds. In his own silent estimation, Amethyst's
reception as an actress only served to prove the
stupendous ignorance of the famous Jamaican Creoles.
But why he was actually spending any time at all in
contemplation of the surly little beggar's plight was a
complete mystery to him. Unexpectedly the vision of a
small, angry face turned up to his, heated purple eyes
blazing furiously into his own stormy expression
returned to his mind and a peculiar sense of urgency
increased inside him. Damn that lazy wind! Damn the
obstinate sea! The Sally lay as dormant as a leaf on a
stagnant pond and he was helpless against the situation.

    Damn the...But what was that? Suddenly alert,
Damien pulled himself erect. Glancing upward, he saw a
slight puffing of the shrouds that only moments before
hung so still. Damned if there wasn't a breeze coming up!
    A slow grin gradually widening across his face, he
watched as the sails began to fill firm and sure, and
feeling the ship's instantaneous response beneath his
feet, Damien experienced a jolt of exaltation.
    Turning, he shouted over his shoulder to the slender
first mate who stood a few yards behind him, staring up at
the billowing sails with a relieved expression, "Barnes,
get the men to step lively! It looks like we'll see Kingston
within a few days!"
    Turning slowly, Amethyst surveyed the small bedroom, her eyes running over the familiar furniture with a
dispassionate glance. A room of her own at last... for
which she had paid an exorbitant price. Mama and she
had shared the small room and the lumpy double bed for
almost seven years. Amethyst had only relinquished the
room to her mother in the last year of her life when the
woman's failing health had demanded more privacy. But
the room was hers now.. .it had been for almost three
months, and Mama was buried in the small cemetery on
the hillside. It wasn't a fair exchange. Not fair at all.
    Angry with the tears that filled her wide lavender eyes,
Amethyst tossed her ebony tresses impatiently, moving
to straighten the