Captured by Beverly Jenkins

breakfast with a beautiful woman.”
    “And this is the first time I’ve not had duties to complete before I could eat.”
    “How does it feel?”
    “Odd,” she offered truthfully. “I feel as if I should be up pressing Violet’s gowns, and emptying chamber pots and bringing breakfast instead of having it brought to me.”
    “I promise, there’ll be no pressing, emptying, or bringing while you’re here.”
    “I thank you for that, but I mustn’t let myself become accustomed to such luxury.”
    The sadness of that touched his heart. “Then don’t go back. We’ll figure out a way to free your children.”
    She froze. “My children?”
    “That is the reason you wish to return, is it not?”
    She stared at him with wide eyes. “How could you know?”
    “A guess, really. My mother was a captive.”
    Clare was speechless.
    “What are their names and ages?” he asked gently.
    “Sarah is ten and Benjamin twelve.” She was dumbfounded by his insight. How could he know the secrets of her heart?
    “I guessed it was either children or a lover.”
    Embarrassed by his latter choice, she lowered her eyes for a moment. “No, it’s my children, and if I don’t return, they could be sold again.”
    Dominic knew that was a very real concern, but wished he could present her with an alternative that would guarantee liberty for all three of them. “Do you get to see them?”
    “Sundays.” Which made Clare luckier than some of the other captive mothers with children. Many children auctioned on the block were lost to their families forever. Her mind went back to the brief reference he’d made to his own mother. “How long was your mother a captive?”
    “Until her sixteenth year.”
    “Is she still living?”
    “No, she died when I was young. In many ways her death seems a long time ago, but in others, it’s as if it happened only yesterday.”
    She heard his wistful tone. “You sound as if you loved her very much.”
    “I did.”
    Clare realized there was more to the captain than the pillaging and thievery she’d accused him of yesterday. “I love my children very much, as well.”
    “That’s apparent.”
    “Would you do less?”
    He shook his head. “No, and you are to be commended.”
    For a few moments they ate in silence.
    “I’d like to help,” he said.
    “Help with what?”
    “Your children’s freedom.”
    For a long moment she said nothing, observing him instead, before asking, “And how might you accomplish that?”
    He shrugged. “No idea now, but I’d like to put my mind to it, if it is agreeable.”
    “Thank you, but no.”
    “You’re refusing my help?”
    “I’m refusing to pin my hopes on something that is beyond our reach.”
    “You don’t want them to be free?”
    “Of course I do. I’ll go to my grave content if I could see them free.”
    “Then let me help you, and them.”
    “I appreciate your concern but your efforts, whatever they might be, could put them in great jeopardy.”
    “I understand, but—”
    “So great a jeopardy that they could be sold to the Indies.” Being sold to the French-and English-controlled islands of the Caribbean was to live a nightmare. The French led the world in human trafficking because of the constant need to replace their slaves that they worked literally to death.
    The last thing Dominic wanted was to begin their day with an argument, but her misgivings were legitimate ones. Exposing her children to the block would not be helpful in any way, so he dropped the subject for the moment with the idea of presenting her with a well-thought-out solution sometime in the future.
    They finished breakfast soon after, and he asked, “Would you like some air?”
    Clare nodded. Being confined to the cabin all day wasn’t something she was looking forward to since it would only add to her sense of being closed in. Having the sun and the wind on her face might be a refreshing alternative. “Let me get my cloak.”
    Once she was ready, he escorted