Pirate's Conquest

by Mary Martin

  "Go back to the ship, Ely," Scorpio growled.

  "The hell I will!" Ely replied heatedly. "Why did you not signal me as you said? This place makes me uneasy." He stuck the end of the torch into the sandy floor, his eyes peering over his brother's shoulder at the cowering girl. "No need to answer that. I think I can see very well what was going on. She was the white vision that we saw, wasn't she?'

  "Aye, one of Lucifer's own, she is." Scorpio wiped his sweat-dampened face with the back of his arm. "Leave us, now, we have something to settle between us."

  Ely stood his ground, his blue-green eyes filled with disbelief. "You can't really mean to do what it is I think you were about when I came in here?"

  "You have no idea what this is all about... so don't interfere!"

  "Have you taken all leave of your senses? She is only a young thing, man, barely out of school."

  "Oh, she is more than that, Brother . .. much more," Scorpio said bitterly. He twisted around toward Starlin, but was drawn up short by Ely grabbing his shoulder. He spun about angrily, coming to his feet and appearing as one possessed to swing on his brother.

  "Are you crazy or something?" Ely ducked the blow of his fist, leaving Starlin to stare in mute disbelief at both men.

  The two men faced each other. One overwhelmed by emotion, the other, stunned by his.

  It gave the girl the briefest opportunity to slide backward across the sand into the dark shadows along the cave wall. Upon feeling her back come up against a solid surface, she stood on wobbly legs and inched the shale until she was able to dart unseen through the entrance and was swallowed up by the night.

  Neither man had been paying her notice they were so intent on dodging the other's blows. After a while, Scorpio's pent-up rage finally abated, and he fell down on his knees in the sand, breathing labored, sweat pouring down his body.

  Ely did the same, but kept a guarded eye on his brother. He gingerly touched his bruised jaw where one of Scorpio's smashing blows had clipped him. Being the younger and lighter of the two, he'd managed to dodge Scorpio's first blind swings, leading him around in a circle, carefully ducking to avoid those lethal fists, until his brother had at last exhausted his fury.

  Sides heaving, they faced each other. Their eyes met. Ely saw that Scorpio's were now clear. What he had glimpsed in them earlier had almost unnerved him. He had never seen his brother behave in this way.

  "Are you feeling better?' Ely posed with a careful smile.

  Scorpio breathed deeply, nostrils flaring wide. "I can't feel any worse." Remembering the girl, his head jerked around in search of her. He saw that she had fled. An overwhelming mingling of loss and bitter gall assailed him. "For the love of God, why?" he ground out tersely.

  Misunderstanding his brother's harsh statement, he sought to ease the moment. "She got away while you were stalking me about," Ely stated, relief flooding through him that she had escaped. "And now that the chippy has flown, can we get on with our mission?"

  Scorpio jumped to his feet and swept up his sword in one smooth motion. "I'll go after her."

  "No! Enough. We're getting out of this place!" Ely snarled. "That storm is the worst I've seen in a long time. The men are edgy and I need you to come back to the ship and calm them down." He was grateful when he saw his brother hesitate. "You have a responsibility to the men. As their captain, they look to you to guide them in times such as these." Ely was betting on the fact of his brother's loyalty to his crew to keep him from tracking the girl and possibly getting himself captured in the process. "Let her go ... there will be others." Scorpio's eyes were dark and brooding. "Not like this one there won't.

  Starlin Cambridge awakened with a dreadful sense of unease in her bed, the covers clutched tightly about her neck. She watched a stray beam of sunlight come peeking through the partially separated window coverings. It was morning, the storm had passed—and last night did not happen, she tried to convince herself. A bad dream ... yes ... that was all that it was. Wasn't it?

  She lay that way for a long while, trying not to think about him by forcing herself to mentally tally the ornately cast plaster garlands in the ceiling.

  An image appeared there from the distant corners of Starlin's mind that she could not banish nor turn away from: that of a lean, chiseled face in shadowy relief with eyes that were like that of a storm-lashed night, and hands that were her complete undoing. Something she could not readily identify rushed through her body, and then was recalled. Heat, throbbing and intense, pulsated between her thighs, made her automatically tighten her legs together. She remembered his sure touch . .. her breathing quickening with each writhing movement of her hips ... her breasts growing full and aching, longing, even as she hated herself, for his total possession. From within, she recalled that deep, husky voice and surrendered to the simplicity of physical satisfaction. Even as she recognized what was happen­ing to her body, she felt the embers of desire flame out of control, and rushed with a breathless sigh to meet it.

  Afterward, a peculiar weakness settled within her and she slept peacefully without dreams.

  When she woke again it was late morning. She tried to convince herself, in innocent naivete, that he had simply been some demon of dreams that she would exorcise, but by the time that she had dressed to meet the new day, she realized with sinking despair that she had failed to banish him from her mind.

  London after dark was exciting to behold, for it was then that the city truly came alive. On this evening, Edmond, Earl of Eaton, was hosting a fashionable soiree for his granddaughter, Lady Starlin Cambridge. Invitations bearing the Winfield coat of arms had been received by every prestigious household. The acknowl­edged king of the capital's hosts, the earl's spectacular parties were eagerly anticipated by every member of the elite haul ton. They were well aware of his search for a suitable husband for her ladyship, and of the sizable fortune she would one day inherit. Young lords of the aristocracy were encouraged to pursue the wealthy Lady Cambridge without reserve. They did so in droves. For within this glittering realm, one's life work was the pursuit of pleasure. Therefore, no one who was a member would dream of not responding to, or failing to attend the soiree.

  The appointed hour drew near. The light rain which had plagued the day lifted, storm clouds skimming past a slivered moon revealing a faint dusting of stars highlighting the sky. Laughter drifted on the breeze, « echoing across the tree-lined streets surrounding Hyde Park, mingling with the sound of iron-shod hooves and the menagerie of rumbling coaches beginning to arrive at Eaton Hall.

  The elegant mansion, situated but a stone's throw from Hyde Park, was aglow with dazzling lights. Footmen in top hats and black tails attentively waited to assist the lords and ladies from their conveyances and into the gilded salon where the Earl and Lady Cambridge waited to receive them.

  Starlin stood beside her grandfather, smiling warmly and making polite conversation. There wasn't one who would have recognized her as the hoyden who had arrived in London just a short year ago. It had been that long since Starlin's encounter with the pirate, Scorpio, and if anything, the time had only served to enhance her spirited loveliness. She had forced herself to put the explosive encounter in the cave from her conscious mind, but sometimes at night, in dreams, it still returned to haunt her. And if she would chance to think of it in the light of day, she would have to say it was because of Scorpio—and those dreams—that she had not yet chosen a husband. He alone had been the one who'd awakened lusty yearnings, virginal passions, such as no other man had been able to do.

  Starlin Cambridge projected the perfect image of the aristocrat's granddaughter, appearing poised, cul­tured, and very much a lady. The earl had spared no expense to educate her. Adept in several languages, an accomplished artist and musician, she'd been carefully molded to become a dutiful Victorian wife.

  Young bachelors hovered a short distance away, murmuring among themselves.

  "Mmmm, Courtland appears to have gained her favor . . . lucky bloke."

&nb
sp; "Beauty and wealth, what more could a man wish?"

  "But rather a strange bird, though ... or so I've been told."

  "There are ways of silencing that lovely mouth," a brash lad sneered.

  The group of young men laughed softly.

  Starlin heard their amused chuckling and turned to favor the circle of bachelors with a haughty look of displeasure. Immediately, there were embarrassed coughs and averted eyes. Unobtrusively, they observed her cool beauty, each man secretly longing to hold her just once.

  Intoxicating in a pale lavender silk with an overnet woven through with silver threads and a decolletage that revealed a hint of full ripe breasts, Lady Cambridge did indeed make a ravishing picture that tempted many to dream of what it might be like to possess her. Her long dark hair, the color and texture of sable, was fashioned becomingly on top her head in a coronet of lustrous curls. Sculpted, high cheekbones, complemented by skin the color of fine porcelain, only served to enhance the slight poutiness of her moist, pink mouth. A mouth just made for kissing, more than one admirer had been heard to exclaim. And if her lips were temptation, then her eyes were a man's undoing. They were truly her most captivating feature. Set beneath delicately arched jet brows and thick, sooty lashes, they appeared culled from sparkling amethysts which slanted exotically at the corners. Ever changing with her mood, they innocently beckoned and promised, teased and foretold. Yet not one of London's fine ' young men had ever sampled the secret passion hidden in their depths. It was in her favor that she accepted her classic beauty quite naturally and was not one to dwell on her physical appearance.

  Yet, the ton was ever puzzled by her behavior. The usual gossip-mongers were in attendance and sat in a group an one side of the room, quizzing and dissecting each guest as they arrived, heads bobbing in agree­ment, eyes shining brightly. Occasionally, they'd paused in mid-sentence to draw breath and exchange comments about their hostess. They laughed amusedly, watching from behind secretive smiles as the Earl and Lady Cambridge stood underneath a crimson banner emblazoned with the family crest, and greeted the last of their guests. It was entertaining for them to observe the proceedings. The dowagers were quite familiar with Starlin's reputation of being an Ice Princess. Her league of scorned suitors were many, and the dames were quick to agree that the name suited her perfectly. It would have surprised and undoubtedly pleased the tale-carriers immensely if they would have had any idea that these very same concerns were on the earl's mind at that moment.

  The earl watched his granddaughter unobtrusively, seeking some indication that she found at least one of the eligible young lads to her liking. Firmly, he recalled his earlier decision to see her properly wed before the season's end. Regardless of how the stubborn minx balked at the idea, it was time she began to accept the responsibilities of womanhood. And if not soon, then he'd be forced to form an alliance for her. He had tried to avoid doing so, but, she stood to inherit a sizable fortune from him when she came of age.

  One year, and she could do as she pleased. And if not under some husband's wing, what then would she think to do? Gad, but the very idea made him extremely nervous. However, there was hope. For already, she'd received countless proposals, and all from titled gentlemen he held in the highest esteem who would make his granddaughter the perfect match. In the past, and much to his chagrin, with each new offer of marriage, she had turned up her classic nose and politely refused. Perhaps now that she was a tad more mature and approaching twenty-one, she might seri­ously consider a future offer. He recalled his having asked of her why she'd previously declined such wonderful matches, and had been stunned when she'd simply replied, "I know you're trying to look out for my best interest, Grandfather. But I do not love any of the young men in question. I am beginning to wonder if such an emotion even exists for me." She'd sigh wistfully. "Yet, I do not intend to marry without it, so I have decided to remain unattached and continue to live here with you."

  "But, it is unheard of, my sweet," the earl stam­mered. "No one of our class ever waits for love to marry. It is expected that you will marry well, produce fine heirs . .. love? Well, that may come after."

  Yet Starlin Louise had remained firm in her convictions. "I will not be some man's brood mare, Grandfather." She had observed his distressed face sympathetically. "I am sorry to have to talk to you in such a fashion, but you must realize how I feel. If I ever marry, and I say 'if,' it will be to a man who views me as his equal. One who believes in love, as I do, and who may very well just sweep me off my feet." She had laughed at the latter, wondering herself if such a man even existed, and never, never allowing her thoughts to dwell on the one man who had, quite naturally, done so.

  The earl would reply testily, "These ridiculous views of yours, Granddaughter, are driving all of your suitors away. I am finding it increasingly difficult to seek out new lads to invite to these affairs. Soon you must chose one, or I will do so for you." He had ignored the pugnacious uplifting of her chin. "Milady, your position in life demands it. 1 will not have the same thing happen to you that befell your mother after your natural father's death."

  "Because she married Carl, of whom you did not approve, and allowed him to adopt me and took me to live with them in Key West, you mean, don't you?" It was bluntly stated, but without rancor.

  "More so, because the man was an adventurer. A shiftless treasure-hunter who ran some shabby salvage business off the Florida coast," the earl shot back with an air of disdain.

  "A very profitable one, I might add," Starlin returned firmly. "And we were all very happy for five years, if I may remind you."

  "Ill gotten gains, I have no doubt," the earl grumbled. "I still can't believe your mother gave up everything for that man. Why, I can't tell you the numerous tales that drifted back to me over the years concerning Carl Cambridge."

  Starlin sighed. "Your estrangement hurt her deeply, but she did love him, you know. And you've told me countless times, how if they'd lived like normal folk

  and not have gone looking for the devil's treasure, that my mother and Carl would still be alive." She placed her hand on his arm, sharing his pain. "It's part of the past now, Grandfather. They're gone... and no treasure was ever discovered." She smiled gently. "And we are lucky to have each other. I will never forget how happy I was when you sent for me. Benton felt obligated to care for me—we never got on too well as you know. I spent all of my time with Mammy Juno. Benton had the salvaging firm to occupy his time. I am so grateful for your invitation on my behalf."

  Fury flashed in the earl's eyes. "That shiftless scoundrel. He's never loved anyone or anything except money. I will never forgive him for keeping you a virtual prisoner of that desolate estate in the Keys." he shook his head sadly. "I regret my obstinancy. It kept me from my daughter in her last days . .. and almost doomed you to a lonely life with Benton Cambridge."

  "Hush now," Starlin urged gently. "Mother knew it was your pride that kept you away. We tried to understand, and loved you no less. And all was not lost, for you still have me." She squeezed his arm. "In all fairness, Benton is the way that he is because his father always seemed disappointed in him, yet doted on me. Benton was envious of my relationship with Carl. When the will stipulated that I should receive half of Carl's holdings, Benton was outraged."

  "It was only right that you should receive a part of it," the earl huffed. "After all, it was your mother's inheritance that allowed Carl to remain operating the shoddy affair." He snorted. "Not that I shall ever allow you to interact with Benton. You will have my inheritance, and it will be substantial."

  "With one stipulation, of course," Starlin said, meeting his eyes.

  "My child, I have catered to your every whim, but not this time. You must have a husband soon to oversee my vast holdings." He saw her mouth tighten grimly. "I am growing tired. I wish to see you properly wed and your future secure."

  She grew silent and thoughtful, observing the earl. "You do look peaked. Are you up to this evening, sir?"

  "Yes, of course,
" he blustered. "It's just time for you to accept your destiny, darling. I regret now ever having discussed my business with you. Too late, I see my error."

  "It was definitely to my benefit." She tossed her jet black locks.

  "Poppycock!" the earl replied, frowning. "It has only served to further your ridiculous ideals that all men are silly fops with only one thing on their minds where women are concerned!"

  "I do not feel that way about you," Starlin stated with a charming smile.

  "Hmph," he grumbled, color fusing his pale cheeks. "That will be enough of that."

  "Very well," she agreed. "I understand that Benton's attorney, Malcolm Wells, sent you a wire last month?"

  The earl frowned. "You've been talking to my secretary again, have you?'

  "Briefly. Is there a problem with the salvaging firm?"

  "No."

  She sighed. "You aren't going to discuss it with me, are you?"

  The earl was careful of his answer. He knew how wily Starlin Louise could be. And he did not wish to discuss

  Malcolm Wells, of all people. His personal association with the Cambridge attorney was something he did not want known—could not afford to have known. It prompted him to reply, "The Cambridge salvaging business is doing fine. That's all that should be important to you."

  "And Benton ... is he all right?" she queried, careful not to pry too much, for she knew how the earl was irritated by the turn of the conversation.

  "Just remember—that part of your life is over, child. However, it can do no harm to tell you that Benton is doing as well as can be expected. You are aware of how unstable he has been since the boating accident. Wells does his best to keep things going—that's the most we can hope for."

  Starlin's silky brow furrowed and she purposely avoided making any vows that were impossible to keep. "By your unease each time that Benton's name is mentioned, I tend to think there is something about my parents' death that you have not told me. Is there?"