Captive Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page A

earlobes. Her golden hair piled high on her head emphasized her long, graceful neck and accentuated the deep, revealing cut of her bodice.
    Her mask was clutched tightly in her hand as she made her way down the dim corridor to the outer deck. She would put it on when she reached the street where the parade was to begin. The captain had made it clear that the sailing time of one hour after dawn was firm, and passengers who were not aboard would be left behind. All new passengers would board at the same time, providing their baggage and passage had been cleared beforehand.
    Admiring looks and low-voiced murmurs greeted her as she made her way down the rickety wooden gangplank. A heavy sigh of relief escaped her as she picked her way through trash and debris that seemed to litter every wharf in the world. Casually, from time to time, she looked over her shoulder as she made her way to Odelony Street, where the parade was to start. Just the day before she had paid close attention as she and Mrs. Quince had taken their stroll. Remembered landmarks greeted her, making her feel confident that she knew exactly where she was going. The music seemed to be get ting louder and louder. She must be close to Odelony Street. She stopped a moment to affix her mask, being careful that the tiny wires were securely fastened beneath her curls. She was ready.
    Her heart thumped wildly as she was pushed and jostled by the masked participants of the parade. A peal of laughter to her left made her smile. A young woman dressed as a shepherdess was busy poking her feathered staff into a harlequin’s ribs. From all appearances the harlequin was enjoying himself. He picked up the girl and whirled her through the air, her ruffled pantaloons showing for all the world to see. Crimson devils with long, swishing tails trailed behind their black-clad counterparts. Pitchforks waved in the air with gay abandonment. All manner of members of royalty were represented, with colorful brocade and satin. Crowns perched precariously on the revelers’ heads were objects of much laughter. Royall edged her way between two devils and patiently waited for her turn to move up to the beginning formations.
    Mandolins strummed continuously, making Royall’s pulses throb with excitement. As she advanced a step, she became aware of the man standing beside her. Her breath caught in her throat. A buccaneer was staring down into her eyes. Without a doubt, even in his half mask, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was tall, towering over the other contestants by a good head. Raven black hair fell low over a sharply defined brow. His teeth, when he smiled, were as white as the shirt he wore, open to the waist, revealing a massive, sun-bronzed chest. Tight, black trousers and rich, gleaming, leather boots finished him off to perfection. Again, Royall’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes fell to the man’s hands. Strong hands with short clipped nails that were clean and well-manicured. Hands, she knew, that could caress a woman with sensitivity; hands that knew work and had worked. Strong, capable hands. She swallowed hard as she saw the amused look in the man’s eyes. What must he think of her staring at him like this? God almighty, he probably thought she was bold or, worse yet, a lady of the evening. Well, this was midday with the sun shining brightly. Evening was a long way off.
    â€œAllow me,” said a deep voice beside her. It was the buccaneer. “We both seem to be without a partner, and everyone must have a partner.” He gallantly cupped her elbow in the palm of his hand, escorting her to a place in line. A man with an orange wig and dressed as a court jester handed them each a numbered card, which they hung around their necks.
    Nervously, Royall glanced about her, and she could feel the buccaneer’s insolent gaze upon her. He’d spoken in Portuguese; Royall wanted to say something to relieve the tension, but she knew