Pirate's Conquest

by Mary Martin

  "Yes," Fredrick replied softly.

  "My mother."

  "Yes."

  "And you still say that I should leave Starlin out of this?'

  "You don't know for certain how Carl Cambridge came into possession of April's ring, for she was never able to tell you."

  Rayne was overwhelmed by black memories. His mouth tightened. "No . . . she was not. She is lost to all of us forever, I am afraid."

  "As I wish the ring would have been."

  "The girl is the reason you left the Tempest shortly after the incident on Torquay, isn't she?'

  "I could not allow myself to remain a party to this vendetta any longer."

  "I am beginning to think that even Ely is ready to abandon our cause."

  "He has been troubled since the incident in the cave. He discussed his concerns with me. After I heard him describe Starlin's ring, I suspected she was a Cam­bridge. We've carried this hatred long enough. It is going to destroy all of us if we continue."

  "You are growing soft, Uncle," Rayne sneered.

  "Nay, only wise," Fredrick replied. "Please listen to me, nephew. Your parents would not have wished this."

  Rayne scowled, his eyes sulphurous. "Don't bring them into this. What I do, is for them. What I have become, is because of Carl Cambridge."

  "I'll do my best to protect the girl, Rayne," Fredrick warned. "I've grown fond of her. There isn't a mean bone in her body."

  "Don't get in my way, Uncle," Rayne warned.

  Fredrick faced his sister's child with a stubborn light in his eyes. "As you, I must do what I feel is the right thing." His expression softened. "There has been enough sorrow and heartache. Do you have to destroy her?'

  Rayne scowled darkly. The time was near for him to make a choice. Honor and vengeance—or Starlin? "I decided this long ago, and I must see it through until the end."

  "Even if it costs you Starlin?'

  "She hates me. I take no chance in losing her love," Rayne stated bitterly.

  "You are a fool if you truly believe that," Fredrick returned with a hard look. "There is something that binds the two of you to each other. You can not sever it. You have been drawn to this girl from the beginning." He peered at Rayne intently. "Did you ever stop to think that the past, no matter how painful, had to occur in order to secure the path of the future?"

  "You sound like Bettina."

  "Starlin needs you in her life," Fredrick said with the first real stirrings of hope. "And I think, deep down, that you need her, too. If you exact your vengeance and then leave her, and the earl should not recover, what will become of her? She will be at the mercy of this fiend that struck today."

  "I never said anything about leaving her," Rayne replied, turning away and steeling his heart. "She will help me to lure the last—Benton Cambridge."

  Fredrick's ire could not be contained. "By all means," he yelled after his nephew's retreating figure, "uphold the family honor at all costs, for a Morgan's pride means everything to him."

  "Don't force my hand, Uncle," Rayne flung back over his shoulder. "Let it be enough that I vow not to kill her."

  "Yet you'd break her proud spirit!"

  Fredrick Morgan stood for a long time after Rayne had left the stable. For too long now Rayne had harbored this hatred, and it was embittering him more every day. Furthermore, a pirate on the high seas could not elude capture forever. And when he was finally brought to justice, he would be hanged. Fredrick did not think that the brash Rayne Morgan had ever stopped to consider the effects on his family if that should ever come to pass.

  Several days later the earl regained consciousness. Weak, his eyes shadowed by mauve circles, he gazed up at his anxious granddaughter who'd rarely left his bedside. She was astounded and displeased at his first words.

  "Bring him ... to me," he was barely able to whisper.

  "Grandfather—you are awake!" Starlin wept tears of joy and hugged him close.

  The earl frowned with impatience. "Starlin," he said more firmly. "Get Morgan, at once. There is no time to waste."

  The young woman drew back with a look of utter disbelief. "Why, sir?'

  "Don't stand there asking questions, just do as you're told," he said with a faint pat to her hand. "I... I must speak with him at once."

  Starlin whirled about, her eyes filling with hot tears. It was a great shock for her to hear her grandfather ask to see Rayne Morgan. Why he would wish to talk with that man she did not know. But she knew one thing, she wouldn't allow Morgan to remain alone in the room with the earl. She had no concrete evidence to back up her claim that Morgan had caused all of their misfortune of late, but she didn't trust him just the same.

  She summoned a footman and gave him word to seek out the Marquess of Sontavon.

  The footman searched the favorite haunts of the gentry, and finally discovered Lord Morgan at the gaming tables of The Solarium, an exclusive club for gentlemen of leisure and finance. He handed Lady Cambridge's card to the doorman and made certain the man realized the matter was of great urgency.

  If Rayne was surprised to have Starlin summon him to Eaton Hall, he did not reveal a hint to that fact. With casual indifference, he rose from his chair and collected his winnings. There were groans from his colleagues, but he only shrugged.

  "Sorry you're feeling the pinch, gentlemen, but I understand that there's been a change in the earl's condition. I must leave for Eaton Hall at once."

  "Is the old chap coming out of it?' an acquaintance of the earl's inquired.

  "I can only hope so, sir," Rayne replied, accepting his cloak and hat from the footman.

  Upon reaching Eaton Hall, Rayne was ushered immediately to the earl's bedside. Starlin was also in the chamber. After barely glancing at her, he turned his attention to the frail figure upon the bed.

  "You sent for me, sir?'

  "Promise ... me," the earl's voice was barely above a whisper and Rayne had to bend his head in order to hear his words, "that you will marry my grand­daughter. Do not let this deter your plans. Now more than ever, it is imperative that you marry. . . and protect her."

  Starlin stood off to the side, her face pale. "I'll not marry him," she insisted. "You're going to need me, Grandfather!"

  The earl scowled at her. "Hush, child, a gentleman's agreement has already transpired between Lord Mor­gan and myself as to your marriage." He pointed a thin finger at her. "You will not bring shame to my family and go back on it. The wedding will proceed."

  Starlin blinked her eyes. Her lips parted to speak, but already the two men were further engaged in conversation and it was more than apparent to her that they no longer acknowledged her presence. Over­whelmed by frustration, the girl fled the room and hurried to the sanctity of her private chambers.

  Upon hearing Starlin's bedroom door slam shut, the earl winked at Rayne and propped himself up on his pillows.

  "She'll not go against my wishes, lad. I hate having her worry about me, yet I feel that nothing must deter you from marrying Starlin and leaving here."

  Rayne shook his head, smiling. "You old fox. I am delighted to see that you are feeling. .. decidedly improved. And while I can see the wisdom of your plan, if Starlin ever finds out about your ploy she'll be furious with both of us."

  "She doesn't have to know—unless you tell her." .

  "Not me. You may rest assured about that."

  "Very good." He motioned for Rayne to have a seat in a chair^beside the bed. He held Rayne's eyes as he spoke. "I have not been immune to the gossips. I know what is being said about you and that Ellendale woman. Is it true?'

  "Lady Ellendale is no longer my mistress, sir," Rayne replied without hesitation.

  The earl beamed. "I didn't think so. But you understand, I had to ask. Starlin is riled I know, but you must continue on with the wedding, and immedi­ately after, take Starlin away as you'd planned." An oppressive silence followed, then the earl continued. "I say this because I'm certain that someone tried to kill me by severing Krager's cinc
h strap. I felt it snap right before I took the spill."

  "I know, sir. Your groomsman discovered the cut in the leather and brought it to my attention."

  "Starlin must not know, or she'll balk even more at marrying you. She's a protective little thing. Just go ... and know that you have my blessing." His voice wavered. "And keep her safe from harm."

  Rayne could not find the words to reply. He had never been in a more frustrating situation in his life. Part of him was triumphant that his plans were all about to be realized, and the other wished that, somehow, things could have been different between them.

  Secluded by the London fog, two men on horseback waited in a moonless hollow for Lady Ellendale's coach to leave the inn. They were dressed like highwaymen, in dark clothes and concealing cloaks. Their eyes met as a couple left the inn, embraced, then went their separate ways. After waiting until the duchess's coach departed, the horsemen hurried to overtake the man's vehicle. Pistol shots reverberated through the night. One of the bandits leaped from his horse to the carriage and overtook the driver. He then brought the team of wild-eyed horses to a halt.

  Buckwald Courtland's face was a mask of fear as he was dragged from his carriage to face two fierce-looking bandits.

  "Take whatever you want, just don't hurt me," he blubbered.

  The taller of the bandits stepped out of the mists, a cold, mocking smile directed at Courtland.

  "You!" Courtland gasped. He turned to flee, but the man lunged forward and brought him easily to the ground. With a murderous snarl Courtland's attacker tossed him onto his back and straddled his prone form.

  "Fancy you Lady Ellendale's new stud," Rayne Morgan snarled, his fist poised above Courtland's face. "And no doubt, the one behind her clever scheming. I wasn't certain until you pulled that sneak attack the other night. It was you who attacked me, wasn't it?"

  "Don't hit me, Morgan!" Courtland screamed in fear, thrashing about, shielding his face with his hands. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

  Rayne sprinted to his feet jerking Courtland with him. He threw him roughly against the coach. "You spineless jackal. Did you think I would allow that spiteful bitch to keep me from what I want?'

  "You don't love Starlin any more than I do. You're after her wealth just like the rest of us," Courtland ventured bravely.

  Rayne shook the frightened man until Courtland was sobbing. "Tell me—who is the father of Susan's unborn child?"

  "Susan told you she was pregnant to try and get you to break your engagement with Starlin. She isn't pregnant!"

  Rayne glared at him. "You're telling me the truth?"

  "Yes! For God's sake, please ... let me go."

  "Not so fast, sport. Were you one of those who jumped me?"

  Courtland nodded miserably. "She . . . she made me."

  Rayne clipped him on the jaw. Courtland sagged against the carriage, but was quickly hauled back into Rayne's grasp. "I owed you that one, Buckwald."

  "You and Susan make the perfect couple," Court-land rasped, wiping his bloodied mouth with the back of his sleeve. "She's also a manipulator who will stop at nothing to get what she wants."

  Morgan's fist connected with Courtland's jaw once again. This time the man reeled and fell to his knees. Rayne reached for him.

  "Rayne!" Ely shouted from his horse. "Let him alone. He isn't the sort to stand up to a beating."

  Long legs splayed arrogantly, Morgan stood above the dazed Courtland. "Don't say anything about this to Susan. I'll handle her in my own way. And if you do anything further to try and stop my marriage to Starlin, the next time I'll kill you."

  He spun on his heel and swung onto his horse, leaving a shaking Buckwald Courtland to take refuge in the fact that he was still alive.

  It was her wedding day. Nothing she said had changed the earl's mind. Starlin recalled how she'd gone to his room yesterday in a last effort to convince him to call off the wedding. He would not listen.

  "This is one time I cannot allow you to have your way, darling. We both know that I will not live forever. Now, more than ever I need to know that your future is secure. You must promise me that you will see this through."

  Secure! With a bloody pirate, she'd felt like blurting back at him, wishing he were well enough to listen to her suspicions about Morgan, even read some of the passages in the diary. But fear of Morgan's wrath kept her from doing anything. She could never love that man. She recalled Courtland's sneering words. How Rayne had bragged openly of adding her to his list of conquests. Physically she was bound to him. Want, desire, yes they had that. But never love. Morgan might control her treacherous body, but he would never capture her spirit.

  She'd viewed the earl's tired face with concern. "Very well, sir. I'll marry Morgan. But there is absolutely no one who will tell me where I am to live. I intend to live here after the wedding. And I expect no contest from you."

  Lord Winfield had not looked pleased. She'd ca­ressed the side of his pale cheek. "You won't change my mind. I love you too much to abandon you when you need me most."

  To Starlin's surprise, the earl had not tried to persuade her differently. Despairingly, he'd shaken his head. Starlin had quietly left the room.

  With amazing efficiency, Rayne Morgan saw to the last-minute planning. The day of the wedding was warm and sunny, with a faint breeze stirring the treetops and birds singing merrily.

  A lovely arbor, shaded by towering elms and ancient limes, would serve as a makeshift chapel. The surrounding rose gardens, their heavenly blossoms perfuming the air, would provide the two small children who would precede the bride with rose petals to strew before her path. Baskets upon baskets of white roses had been placed about the wisteria-entwined arbor where the couple would exchange their vows, and more decorated the grounds beyond. Silver ribbons and bells.festooned the trees, and elegant tables amass with silver dishes gleamed brightly in the streaming sunlight.

  Servants bustled about seeing to last-minute prepa­rations, arranging buckets of iced champagne and heaping platters of gourmet food. The final touch was the wedding cake, an elegant confection of whipped eggs and cream that had been created by the finest of chefs. It took a half dozen servants to carry it to its place of honor on the bride's table, for it towered over five feet and boasted sugared doves, fresh baby's breath, and a replica of the bride and groom on top.

  Starlin stood on her balcony overlooking the area and observed the proceedings with growing unease. She knew it was natural for a bride-to-be to have jitters before the ceremony. Yet this was decidedly more than that. She had so many confusing emotions warring inside her. She had always said she would not marry until she met a man who loved her.

  "I wished no bonds upon me," she murmured to herself, "and a man to love me as his equal and share my life. Morgan controls me with his deceitful kisses and whispered lies."

  As the hour of the ceremony approached, Starlin dressed solemnly in her finery and went to her grandfather's room to see him one last time before the ceremony. He'd been waiting for her, it seemed, and appeared cheery as she twirled about the room in her flowing gown for his appraisal.

  "You are a vision of breathtaking beauty, Starlin dear, and I'm sure your intended will agree when he sees you." The earl was far too weak to leave his bed, but the servants had received permission from his doctor to make a comfortable place for him on the balcony so that he could observe the proceedings.

  "I have looked forward to this day for so long," he'd said as Starlin had kissed him before departing. "Try to be happy ... for me."

  Her mood had lightened a bit when she'd seen the misty look in his eyes. He'd looked so pleased and had been smiling brightly. The earl's last words as she'd closed the door had disturbed her. It was almost as if he were saying good-bye, a prospect that Starlin could not bear to think about.

  "Never think that I don't love you, and know that whatever I do is for your benefit, my darling girl. Even when times appear darkest. .. remember that."

  How could th
ey possibly get worse? she thought as the fingers of one perfectly manicured hand picked unknowingly at the seed pearls adorning the satin material of her wedding gown. The beautiful dress fit her to perfection: an exquisite creation of ivory satin, tucked in at the waist and billowing downward in yards of French lace. The sleeves were Grecian-style, and quills of silver ribbon and more seed pearls had been hand-sewn over the lace overlay that draped the gown. A diamond tiara secured a white veil in place. Between her breasts nestled the gold medallion with the figure of the scorpion. She closed her eyes and swallowed with difficulty upon hearing Mindy's voice call to her from the bedroom.

  "You'd best come inside, mum. It's time. The guests are all beginning to arrive and the groom is prowling restlessly in the foyer."

  Smiling encouragingly, she settled the wispy veil over Starlin's face, attached the flowing train, and handed her the bouquet of roses and white orchids.

  "Thank you, Mindy, you've been most helpful to me."

  "Good luck to you, mum. And much happiness."

  A knock sounded on the door and Starlin took a deep breath. It was the signal from Miss Eggie that all was in readiness.

  Brilliant sunshine greeted her as she followed behind the entourage of attendants all resplendent in pale blue as they stepped through the terrace doors and into the gardens. Her eyes looked past the sea of faces, to meet his. Her uncle gave her hand to him. Oh, Rayne, Starlin whispered in her heart. Do we really know what it is we are doing?

  He stood unmoving, his features perfectly con­trolled, revealing not one hint of emotion. She thought he looked terribly handsome in an elegant jacket of deep wine with black lapels and a white, ruffled jabot gracing his bronzed throat. She felt those penetrating jade eyes watching her closely, never once straying from hers. The force of those eyes, and the truths she read in their depths, almost made her turn about and flee. And if not for the disgrace she would bring on the earl whom she knew was watching with pride, she would have done so—and never once looked back. For she knew that Morgan did not love her, he was marrying her to keep her good name from disgrace.