Emerald’s eyes rushed to her cousin’s for an explanation.
Lavender looked suddenly weary, as though the trials of life were dreadfully heavy for her magnolia-white shoulders. “I was angry at Baret. I sent a letter to him through Sir Erik Farrow, telling him I had already married Grayford. Of course, at the time, I had thought I would marry him, immediately, but …” Her sapphire eyes gleamed as they fixed on Emerald’s face. “Now I may see things differently after all,” she said with a little bite to her voice.
Emerald shook her head, stunned. “Are you saying you broke your engagement with the viscount?”
“Yes. And naturally, I hurt him. Perhaps I was too hasty. It seems he turned to you on the rebound. A dreadful mistake for both of you. He doesn’t love you,” she repeated. “And while you may be an attractive girl, you’re certainly wrong for Baret. You’d never make a countess! It’s silly and foolish of you and him to even contemplate such a thing.”
Emerald’s self-esteem lay in rags about her feet. The words spoken so casually and yet so bluntly stung her as painfully as any made by a whip to her flesh.
So Baret had already known Lavender was to marry Lord Grayford. No—he thought she had already married him. So that was why he was willing to accept her father’s demands in place of a duel. Baret had been hurt and had stepped out recklessly in his anger and grief to get back at Lavender by agreeing to marry me.
Emerald’s nails dug into her palms. He had treated her as carelessly as a man could treat a woman. He had left her on stage alone to face the jeering crowd and to feel the stones they hurled against her. Lavender was right. He didn’t care anything about her.
I’ve been a fool, she thought. I should have known better. As though to mock her, some words spoken by Baret aboard the Regale came back with underlining clarity. In suggesting she’d been foolish to trust Jamie Bradford, Baret had perhaps suggested his own thoughts as well. He had said, “A word of advice—never believe a man’s vow until you’ve known him long enough to see he means it. A rogue will promise anything.”
Lavender was watching, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “If I were you,” she said more gently, “I wouldn’t show my face at Foxemoore just yet. All Karlton’s talk about your marrying a viscount—in the end the words will turn and bite you, leaving you more pain and shame.”
Emerald could not believe she was hearing herself say firmly, “He meant every word he spoke to me. And I will marry him.”
Lavender seemed taken aback. For a moment she said nothing and simply scanned her, as though judging the danger of an opponent.
“I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of,” said Emerald, “and I won’t cringe about with my head hung low. The Lord knows I’m innocent, and He’ll give me the courage to face all the chatter-boxes who love to hear gossip, even when they know what they’re saying is lies.”
“All your Bible reading won’t convince anyone.” Lavender swept past her to the door, then turned back. “I won’t give Baret up, Emerald. I was rash and made a mistake when I sent him that angry letter. Somehow I’ll make him understand.”
Emerald tensed, her anger rising. “It means nothing to you to hurt someone. What will you do—reject Grayford with another terse note? You’re quite good at writing them, I suppose.”
“How I tell Grayford is no concern of yours. I’ll work it out and explain everything to both of them.” Her eyes softened. “I don’t want to hurt him—or you. But you must understand, Emerald, Baret and I are meant for each other. We always were. And he couldn’t have meant the outcome of that duel on Tortuga any more than I meant the letter I sent to him. I was hurt and angry. And Baret must have been feeling the same when he agreed to your father’s outlandish blackmail.”
“And I suppose you also don’t take seriously the breaking of your vow to Lord Grayford. Or the engagement ring you wear,” said Emerald a little bitterly.
“I shall return it at the appropriate time. Baret will understand.”
“You’re so confident he’ll listen.”
“And I can’t believe you seriously think to hold him to a vow he didn’t mean or to a marriage he doesn’t want with a woman he doesn’t love. I would expect you to have more pride then that. Unless having Karlton hold a pistol on Baret all the way to the wedding is of value to you?”
Emerald flushed. “You needn’t worry, Cousin Lavender. I’ve more respect for the seriousness of a marriage vow before God then to hold a dueling pistol to my husband-to-be’s head. If Baret does not wish to marry me—then—then he can tell me so.”
Lavender seemed satisfied. “I’m pleased you’re mature enough to see it that way. I’m certain Baret will. And both of us will see to it you’re well taken care of, if it comes to your reputation. We’ll pay your upkeep, either in London or here in Port Royal.”
Emerald’s heart thudded, heavy with pain. “I want nothing from you or Baret Buckington. I can take care of myself, thank you. And don’t forget, I’ve naught to be ashamed of, either here or in England. My father owns a share in Foxemoore, and the bungalow belongs to me and Minette.”
“Of course. I was only thinking you might wish for a new start somewhere else. If not England, then the American colonies.”
How easily she dismissed her. Like some shameful relative to be packed off and hidden from scrutiny!
“My life’s plans are not so easily redirected. Whatever God has for me, it won’t be cloaked with the appearance of evil. I intend to serve Him one day, and my reputation will be free of whispers. I’ll go to England to school as planned—and after that I intend to come home to Foxemoore to carry on the work of Uncle Mathias.”
Lavender looked offended. “I should think after the uprising and the death of my mother and Mathias, you wouldn’t even consider stirring up the fires of rebellion again. But we won’t discuss that now. Look, Emerald, I’ve no more time to talk. I wanted you to know where things stood, and now you know. So I’ll be returning to Government House. There’s talk of Governor Modyford recalling the buccaneers from Tortuga for the war. There’ll be a ball next week, and I expect Baret to be there to work for the good of England with Grayford. If you are wise, you won’t show at Government House. You’ll save face and be on that ship for London.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do. And if you think Baret will show himself at a ball, you don’t know the half of things. Lord Felix is bent on Baret’s arrest for piracy. What do you expect to do about that? Or are you willing to risk your own reputation to marry a pirate?”
She took perverse enjoyment in seeing the flash of alarm on Lavender’s face. So then! Lavender hadn’t realized what a rogue Baret really was—or how much risk he was in!
Emerald smiled crookedly. “You want Baret Buckington Foxworth, Cousin Lavender? It may be that in breaking your engagement to Lord Grayford, you’ll end up with a roguish buccaneer for a husband instead of a future earl. Then what will you do?”
Lavender’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what Baret is. If having him back means marrying a buccaneer—then I’ll do it. Anything to keep—” She stopped as though she had nearly said too much.
Emerald folded her arms. “Anything to keep me from having him?”
Lavender tilted her head, her golden hair shining in the sunlight. “There aren’t many women who’d care if he did have a somewhat unsavory reputation. He’s still got the blood of the earl of Essex, and Baret will yet inherit everything from his grandfather, despite the wishes of his uncle.”
Emerald looked at her, alert. “So you know about Lord Felix’s schemes.”
“That he wishes to inherit title and wealth? Yes, I know. He’s not very casual about keeping it masked, is he? No matter. I’m as clever as he, and I have something even Felix doesn’t have.” She smiled whimsically. “Earl Nigel Buckington thinks especially well of me. He happens to think well of the title of duchess I’m to inherit when my grandmother dies. That, my dear Emerald, is something you will never have to offer. And in th
e Buckington family it happens to mean more than a sweet face.”
Emerald said nothing to that, for she knew the earl would look upon her with horror should his grandson ever truly wish to marry her. “What will the earl say when you break your engagement to Grayford? I don’t suppose he’ll be pleased. And unless Baret salvages his reputation soon, the earl won’t want you to marry him is my guess.”
In seeing Lavender’s response, Emerald sensed she had touched a raw nerve.
“No,” she admitted dully, “Earl Nigel doesn’t want me to marry Baret. And that’s why I won’t simply break the engagement to Grayford right now, though I’d like to do so. I will need time to work matters out. Baret, of course, will help me.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“I will make certain of it.”
“If he comes here, he’ll be arrested for piracy and hang.”
“I will see that he doesn’t hang.”
“It doesn’t matter that my father may meet such a fate?”
“Karlton won’t hang either,” she said and, turning away, walked out onto the porch.
Emerald listened to her cousin’s footsteps die away as she descended the wooden steps to her waiting carriage. She became aware of how exhausted emotionally she was and how dull her hopes and spirits. She walked to the stairs that led to her father’s upper chamber and sank to the lower step, mindless of the rat she had seen earlier.
Whether moments or minutes passed she did not know, but she stirred when she realized that Minette was standing beside her, a hand on the railing. Minette’s eyes reflected sympathy. She had probably overheard part of the conversation.
“I’m sorry, Emerald. She was mean and hateful. Pay her no mind. Captain Foxworth has a mind of his own. An’ I feel sure he isn’t the poor, brokenhearted lover she tries to make out. If he hadn’t wanted to accept Uncle Karlton’s ultimatum, he isn’t the kind of man who would have done it.”
Emerald rejected the pain festering in her heart. “Maybe,” she said with an attempt at indifference. “But he’s as much to blame for my embarrassment as Lavender. He knew all along she had broken her engagement. And he was under the belief she had already gone ahead and married Lord Grayford. Baret’s a scoundrel! And I won’t forgive him easily.”
Minette winced. “It’s my fault too, ‘cause I knew about the letter back then.”
Emerald looked up at her. “You what? You knew, and you didn’t tell me while we were at Tortuga?”
Minette squirmed. “I’m sorry. I heard the gossip, but I guess I was so wrapped up with my own problems with Sir Erik that it slipped my mind.”
Emerald stood and faced her. Then, seeing Minette’s unhappiness, she sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Baret didn’t forget, you can be certain of that. Oh, Minette! I almost convinced myself he did care for me.”
“He does, I can tell. Maybe even he doesn’t know just how much himself—yet. But he will. You’ll see. Why, I’ll wager he turns Lady Thaxton down as smoothly as warm honey. He’ll tell her he loves you and is going to marry you as planned.”
Emerald, in frustration, walked to the open doorway and looked out toward the glittering green bay. Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them back quickly before Minette saw them. “No. He loves her, though why is a mystery to me. She’s as mean-spirited a woman as I’ve ever met. And conceited too.”
“He doesn’t know what she’s really like.”
“Love, they say, is blind,” murmured Emerald, leaning against the doorjamb wearily. “He won’t see it unless he wants to. And there isn’t a woman in Port Royal who can behave as sweet and helpless and Christian-spirited, when she wants to, as Lady Lavender Thaxton! It wouldn’t surprise me if she doesn’t pretend to become suddenly deathly ill just to gain his sympathy. She’s done it before, and Baret has fallen for it. She wraps him around her dainty finger when she wants to. Oh—” her hands knotted into fists “—what I wouldn’t tell him if I could.”
“If you get mad at him, you’ll only drive him into her arms,” said Minette sagely. “What you need do, Emerald, is show yourself twice the Christian girl Lavender isn’t. And you are, too. She brags about being a duchess someday. So what? is my answer. She doesn’t care about the slaves or the singing school. She wouldn’t do a thing for any of them if she were mistress.” Her eyes reflected pain. “I heard her call me ‘that half-caste.’”
Emerald lingered at the door, her face drawn with weariness. At the moment, there seemed little to say that would salve her cousin’s concerns, or her own. “She thinks no better of me. It hurts when those we wish to esteem us as valuable do not. We can remember how God’s Son willingly paid an infinite price to buy us from the slave market of sin. Let’s seek to find our sense of worth in His estimation.”
Minette’s eyes moistened. “You know, Emerald, when there ain’t anyone else and I feel all alone, I find a joy floods my heart when I think of Jesus. Maybe—maybe things will work out after all. About Uncle Karlton, about us, about everything. D’ye suppose it will?”
Emerald tried to smile, even while her wounded heart fought against the optimism. “Sure it will.”
There came a strained moment of silence between them, and each looked away as if by mutual agreement.
“The first thing we’ll do is pray and trust,” said Emerald. “And you know the next thing I’m going to do?”
“Unpack Uncle Mathias’s Bible?” asked Minette hopefully.
“Yes, that too.” Emerald’s eyes unexpectedly glimmered with humor. “However, the next thing is to win a great battle.”
When Minette looked bewildered, Emerald managed a laugh. “I won’t allow a rat or a cockroach to keep me from enjoying that cup of tea.”
Minette laughed too. “After all we’ve been through, we deserve it.”
12
AT THE TOWN HOUSE ON QUEEN STREET
The afternoon trade wind flooded in through the open front door of the lookout house and lifted the hem of Emerald’s skirts, showing the cream-lace crinoline border. But the cooling wind did not soothe her fevered emotions. She sat wearily on the steps facing the door, her head resting against the rail, her musings causing upheaval.
Her father wasn’t the only man on Tortuga who took unfair advantage of a situation. So did Baret Buckington, she thought. He was willing to place her emotions at risk because he thought Lavender had jilted him and married his cousin. He was angry and acted on the rebound. At my expense.
She held her cup of tea between both palms, feeling its warmth, thinking that she shouldn’t allow herself to be hurt by this turn of events. She should have been realistic enough to know that nothing could come of a betrothal forced by dueling pistols! How could it be otherwise? Did God honor duels or a vow that was forced from a man?
“I won’t let this make me bitter,” she murmured to Minette. “If anything, I had it coming to me. If I hadn’t deceived my father, if I hadn’t sought to run away with Jamie, I wouldn’t have ended up on Baret’s ship. None of this would have happened.”
While she had already confessed her willfulness and knew the Lord had forgiven her folly, she must endure the painful consequences. Bad decisions yielded an unhappy harvest. Her one hope was in a God who was good, who could use even her mistakes to benefit her maturity. Again, she committed herself anew to His purposes. She would choose to believe that the best would yet come her way.
The dream had been her father’s, and it was he who had wrangled the marriage commitment from Baret. And yet, when she had told Baret so, he had seemed to dismiss it. The notion that Baret would allow himself to be drawn back so quickly to Lavender’s arms hurt much more than she had anticipated.
I should be thankful this sad situation will be brought to a swift end, she lectured herself bravely. What if it had been allowed to linger on through her years of schooling in London?
“I don’t love Baret.” And she took a drink of tea to swallow back the iron fingers that pinched her throat. “I don’t love
him,” she repeated firmly. “I won’t allow it. Now I can go to England with my mind set on one thing. To become all I can be in order to carry on the work of Uncle Mathias.”
Shutting the door to her awakened emotions was not easily done, however. She closed her eyes, tried to dismiss his memory, to refuse the thought of his past embrace, his kiss.
I told him not to do it, she thought in a moment of anger.
“He’s a rogue anyway,” she said to Minette. “Let Lavender have him.”
Minette wore a dismal expression as she sat in the wicker chair, her feet drawn up beneath her calico skirts while she dully munched on English tea biscuits that she had found in a tin in the jelly cabinet.
Emerald could see that her cousin wasn’t convinced. Finishing her tea, she looked toward the open doorway.
“I feel sorry for Lord Grayford,” said Minette. “That’s the third man Lavender’s dug her feline claws into.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sir Erik,” said Minette shortly. “He was expecting to marry her too.”
Emerald fixed her with a searching gaze, for the idea of the buccaneer Farrow in love with Lavender came as a total surprise. Captain Farrow seemed to be a man who guarded his emotions more carefully than did even Baret Buckington.
“Hoped to marry her?” Emerald repeated, her voice suggesting the absurdity of that notion. “That’s about as farfetched an idea as my marriage to the earl’s grandson. Whatever gave you the idea that he thought Lavender might marry him? You know how she’ll inherit her grandmother’s title.”
Minette swatted at a sand fly. “It’s only her title and money they all want. I don’t see what any of ’em see in her, she’s so spoiled and ill-tempered.”
“How could Captain Farrow expect to get anywhere with Lavender?” Emerald pursued curiously.
Minette shrugged, frowning. “The viscount’s uncle promised.”
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