Pirate's Conquest

by Mary Martin

  He trained the spy glass on the approaching vessel. A caustic smile abruptly curved his mouth.

  "Ice Princess," he murmured. "I should have re­membered never to underestimate you."

  It was difficult to say who was more surprised to see a women at the helm of the Ice Princess when the vessel swung into the wind next to the Tempest's hull—the crew of the brigantine or the salvors. All eyes were fixed upon the fiery beauty at the wheel.

  Rayne stood at the rail facing the schooner, his face set in harsh lines. Starlin took her time in securing the ship, knowing that by doing so she would force him to come to her. Her gaze swung across the water, caught his. Their emerald depths appeared sulfurous. But she knew him too well to be deceived by their fiery light. He was angry, but also uneasy. Good, she thought smugly. She wanted him distressed. She averted her gaze once again to stare out at the sea. She was not about to have come this far to let him browbeat her. If she wished to salvage her pride, she would have to show him that he could not order her about ever again. She caught a movement on the water. It was Riley rowing a longboat alongside the Princess. He boarded.

  "Captain's ordered me to escort you back to the Tempest," he said firmly.

  "No! Emphatically no!" she said loud enough for the entire lot of them to hear, staring at her husband's narrow-eyed face across the expanse of water that separated the two ships. She crossed her arms over her bosom. "Mr. Riley, you can tell Milord Captain Pirate that I will hot set foot on that marauding vessel—he is to come over here. And then perhaps we'll talk."

  Riley coughed uneasily, not quite certain just what he should do now. He knew from experience that if Starlin had a mind not to do something, then she simply would not do it. He glanced over at Rayne and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.

  "Says she won't come, sir. Wants you to come over here."

  Rayne scowled at the distraught man. "Bloody hell if I will!" he growled menacingly, spinning on his heel to address Ely who had joined him from the wrecker. Keeping his voice low, he said, "You could always talk with her easier than I, Brother. What say you try and reason with her? If we stay in these waters much longer we are asking for serious trouble."

  "I'd say we already have just that," Ely returned with a glib smirk.

  Rayne's eyes narrowed. "And whose side are you on here, might I ask. The Morgan's—or the Cambridges?"

  "You forget she is a Morgan, too."

  "And that, I might add, was one of the biggest mistakes of my life—to have married that hot-tempered little baggage."

  "I disagree," Ely stated with bold assurance.

  Rayne peered at Ely. "You would mutiny on me, I think, if she would ask it." He glanced around him at the passive faces of his crew—eyes scanning the stunned group of Cambridge men who were oblivious to anything but the vision of Starlin in those alluring, form-hugging breeches. "She has bewitched the lot of you—and I only have myself to blame."

  He decided drastic measures were needed at once. He said slowly and quietly, "Issue the order to put the Cambridge lot adrift in boats, and prepare to fire the wrecker. His gaze swung across the deck to fix hotly upon Starlin, his eyes taking on a glint of steel as he strode determinedly to the rail, lips moving with mumbled words. He grasped the rope ladder.

  "Look sharp, Mr. Riley! I await your escort!" and then scowling blackly at Starlin: "You have gone too far this time, madam! I will not tolerate this outrageous behavior from you!"

  Starlin retreated below deck with no doubt in her mind that her open defiance before the men would bring his wrath down upon her. She feared she might have pushed him too far, but knew whatever she'd done he'd fully deserved it! If she had not arrived just in the nick of time, why he'd have overtaken the Cambridge wrecker and claimed the find for his own. She was knowledgeable enough of his dastardly ways to know that he would not have one qualm about stealing from her.

  She recognized the sound of his lithe stride upon the teak deck, racing down the stairway. The cabin door that she'd left slightly ajar hit the wall with a resounding bang, and she tried not to flinch when his big frame filled the entryway.

  "So you followed me, did you?" His eyes shot green fire.

  "I followed you because I suspected you were up to no good. And I was right!"

  "And you dared to gull me before my men—in front of my enemy's men!"

  Starlin stiffened, her violet eyes appearing wide and luminous yet displaying no visible fear. He moved toward her. She took a step backward.

  "They are my crew, too. You seem to have forgotten that half of the salvaging firm is mine. And don't come near me until you are ready to listen to reason," she said levelly.

  "You have always made a spectacle of yourself, and now you seek to do the same to me—and the Morgan name."

  Her wary eyes watched him draw ever closer until they were standing but a foot apart.

  "That's all you really care about, isn't it—your precious family honor?' She bit her lip. "And stop looking at me like that. It's insulting."

  His eyes glimmered with feral lights. "Tell the truth, Starlin. You really don't want me too close because you know that no matter how much we fight, you've found what you've been seeking in my arms."

  "I am here to save Benton, and myself, from this insane quest of yours to destroy every last Cambridge. I heard you talking to your men before you left the island. I won't allow you to hurt anyone ... I have to stop you."

  "Do you really think that you can?' he said silkily as he reached for her. Cruelly his mouth came down on hers, punishing her lips, holding her in a crushing embrace until she whimpered in protest. Yet even though he physically dominated her, her proud spirit refused to bend. She remained rigid in his arms. Slowly, his lips ceased their harsh demands, became soft and persuasive, seeking to elicit her surrender in still another way.

  Starlin clung to him, wanting never to let him go or face the dark stranger inside him again. Passion coiled in her stomach and heated her blood, but this time, she could not blot out the image of the harsh lover who held her. Lives were at stake. Even Rayne's, although he would never believe it. She deftly twisted free of him.

  "It won't work this time, Rayne." She turned to leave.

  "Where the hell do you think you are going?"

  "I'm going on deck to release my men," she said, halting momentarily.

  "Your men?' he snorted.

  "I have half interest in the Cambridge firm—it makes that wrecker and her crew my concern." She took a tentative step forward.

  Bedeviled by pride, Rayne could not let her simply walk out of his life. After viewing the contempt on her face he knew they were finished. Love—hate. Love— hate. It constantly swung like a pendulum between them.

  "So be it then," he murmured, grabbing her hand. "It's time for the real strength of will, Starlin. I want you to come on deck with me."

  "Why?'

  "There is something that I want you to witness."

  Starlin was pulled along after him through the hatch, immediately spying his crew standing on the deck of the Tempest, torches ready to heave onto the wrecker. And in the distance, the Cambridge crew at the rail, awaiting their turn to climb down into dinghies.

  "What are you planning?" Her words were tinged with frightening suspicion.

  He was already at the rail, calling back to her as he stared at the scene across from them.

  "By your open defiance, and your admission, I'd say that you and I are on opposing sides." The fury in his eyes blazed once again. "I intend to see my enemy completely destroyed. Down to nothing but ashes drifting in the wind." He turned to regard her face. "You know the story, the reason. Can you blame me? And knowing that I intend to take everything away from Benton, from your inheritance, do you really think we stand a chance in hell of salvaging this marriage?'

  Starlin swallowed painfully, watching the crew from the wrecker being herded into dinghies that would carry them back to Key West. Her eyes darted to the Cambridge ship, her eyes stinging fro
m the smoky torches and the tears that she could no longer hold back. She had come all of this way to prevent him from destroying everything; hoping that maybe he cared, too; and in the end, discovering that he really didn't give a damn about anyone.

  "Damn you, why must you persist until you've destroyed everything! Why couldn't I have been enough for you?"

  Starlin veered past him and stalked across the deck. Her intentions were obvious mutinous thrust of her chin.

  "Starlin, I cannot let you leave." His voice held no measure of warmth. It was cold and direct. Just as she passed Riley, Rayne gave a quick nod of his head.

  Starlin felt her wrist grasped, and she was brought up short.

  "Please, missus," Riley said quietly, "he means what he says. Come without a fight.. ."

  She whirled around so swiftly that she took Riley by surprise. He held firm to her wrist, but his expression was bleak.

  Her eyes shooting sparks at Rayne, she stated calmly, "You'll never be able to keep me, you know. I do not belong here any longer. While I understand what drives you, I cannot condone your methods of dealing with it. You can't go on blaming us for an unfortunate incident that involved two people. There is much that needs explaining—if you would only take the time to ask and listen."

  He was glaring at her now, and Starlin knew he felt betrayed. No doubt he was thinking that she had gotten the information out of Ely in order to help her own cause. And, of course, he was certain that she would tell the authorities who had attacked the wrecker.

  Yet all she really wanted to do was get away from him, salvage what she could of her pride. She wanted to go back to the Cambridge estate and look after Benton. Perhaps even investigate a few things on her own— talk to Benton and find out if he knew anything about Carl's involvement with April Morgan.

  No one, it seemed, had ever heard the entire story from either Carl or April. Perhaps there had been more to his relationship with April Morgan than a sordid affair? April had proclaimed her innocence—yet not one soul had been willing to believe her. She and Carl had become victims of the tonnish gossip-mongers.

  Starlin knew how devastating that could be. She had been under their close scrutiny for many years. Rayne ordered Riley to take Starlin to the Tempest and lock her in his cabin. The man looked stricken, but would not defy his captain. "Come, little lady. We'd best do as he says." Starlin's footsteps were weary as she followed beside

  Riley. She never once looked back at Rayne.

  Riley saw Starlin to the captain's cabin with a heavy heart. He did not know why Scorpio was such a driven man, he only knew that he trusted his judgment, and if he said that the Cambridges had done his family a great injustice, then it was so. He only wished Lady Morgan did not have to suffer, too. It was these deep inner feelings that allowed his guard to slip just a bit, and Starlin to act. .

  He was just turning to leave the cabin when Starlin, forced to act out of desperation, slipped the jeweled dagger from her boot and crept up stealthily behind the man.

  "Don't take another step." When Riley appeared as though he meant to turn on her, Starlin increased the pressure of the knife. "Please, Riley," she stated in a voice that trembled. "I don't wish to hurt you."

  Riley froze, feeling the prick of the blade in his ribs. "You'll only bring his wrath down harder on you, girl. You can never make it off this ship."

  "Move over to the bed," Starlin ordered. "And no more talking."

  He reluctantly complied. After slipping the sash from her waist, Starlin tied Riley's hands to the bedpost. With a quick apology, she gagged the man with his own neck scarf, then grabbed his gun and slipped it inside the waistband of her breeches.

  "Someone will free you before very long. I'm sorry but your captain has left me no choice."

  To Riley's begrudging admiration, she displayed even more clever cunning by slipping into a concealing slicker and overlarge seaman's cap, careful to stuff every last raven strand of her hair beneath the cap.

  Unease thrummed through her, but she crept up through the aft hatch and peered around her. Most of the men were busy seeing the hostages into the boats. She did not see Rayne anywhere and her bravado slipped. Where was he? Was he watching her, just waiting to pounce at the right moment?

  She saw that there was only one man guarding the forward stern of the Tempest. The last group of Cambridge men were preparing to climb over the rail to the rope ladder when Starlin made a quick dash into their midst. Glancing furtively about, she breathed a sigh of relief that she had not been detected. She put a finger to her lips when the men around her all turned to stare. They quickly gathered about Starlin to shield her from view. Surrounded by huge, bulky forms, Starlin stayed in their midst as they began to climb down the ladder.

  Once inside the boat, she sat huddled among the crew, her hat pulled low over her face. Even though her heart was breaking, she could not help but feel a small measure of triumph for besting the arrogant Scorpio.

  It was a shock to Starlin to find the Cambridge estate in such disrepair. The sun was about to descend into the Gulf when she arrived at the isolated house situated on a remote tip of the island. The two-story structure, which boasted verandas encircling each floor and a widow's walk, was badly in need of paint. Vines were tethered to the drops and perks of gingerbread and hanging from the huge banyan trees that were in front of the house.

  Starlin walked toward the steps, pushing aside the limbs of kapok trees swamping the path. The tall windows were covered by louvered shutters and there appeared no movement behind them. The entire place looked deserted. She raised the knocker and let it fall, the massive door slowly creaked open and a small woman in a patched dress wearing a bandana around her head stared disbelievingly at Starlin.

  "Lord a mercy," the woman gasped, "but I never thought I'd live to see you again, child!"

  "Hello, Mammy Juno. How have you been?" Starlin said softly.

  The spry old woman suddenly brightened and threw the door wide. "Why, quits your standing out there like you is some kind of a stranger. Come in, come in. This is your own home, after all."

  Starlin smiled upon stepping into the hall and looking about at the familiar interior. Nothing had changed, except that everything was decidedly more worn. "It's good to be back ... it has been far too long."

  Mammy Juno ushered the young woman into the dimly lighted parlor. Candles were burning throughout the room and Starlin wrinkled her nose at the peculiar odor they emitted. She caught Mammy Juno's eyes.

  "Still up to your old tricksT'

  "Needs them, darlin', needs all the tricks Mammy Juno's got up her sleeve to keep the evil spirits from this house."

  "You know that I never did believe in voodoo," Starlin said disdainfully.

  The old woman smiled in understanding. "Same as most folks. Can't help it though. It's a century-old religion my ancestors brought with them from Cuba, and it bears great powers. Santeria, stresses the positive things in life, it is not like the evil black magic practiced by some that lives in these parts."

  Starlin knew better than to argue. She had heard her mother have this same conversation with the woman countless times, and it had never changed a thing. Mammy Juno was too set in her own ways.

  The woman motioned Starlin to a settee. "You sit a spell. It looks to me like you've had a rough journey." She sat down next to her with a sigh. "It is good that you have come, little one. I don't like what's been happening around here of late."

  A loud groan made both women flinch. It was followed by a slur of garbled words.

  "Who is that?' Starlin asked, her face visibly paler.

  Mammy Juno glanced down at her hands that were twisting the ends of her apron. "It's Benton. He has been like that for days now."

  "Like . .. whatr Starlin probed.

  "Drunk—rambling out of his head about every­thing."

  "How long has this been going on, Mammy Juno?'

  "The last six months he's been getting worse. He don't appear to be drinking enoug
h to get him so drunk—least not around me he don't. But he been keeping to his room more and more of late, and I've found bottles stashed about, and empty ones in the trash."

  "You mean he doesn't go out, or see anyone?"

  "No—only sees that attorney fella, Malcolm Wells."

  Starlin was stunned at the disclosure. "Who is running the salvaging firm?'

  "Mr. Wells comes here often with papers and such for Benton to sign. I suppose the attorney is overseeing much of the business."

  Starlin shook her head. "Things are worse than I could have imagined. I don't understand why my solicitors in London never told me of this."

  "Perhaps your grandfather did not wish you to know for fear you'd come home and see how much you're needed here," Mammy Juno said soberly.

  Starlin leaned her head back on the settee and stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "You are probably correct. And I am needed here—more than I even realized."

  "Benton will be glad to see you," the old woman stated somberly. "He may not let you see just how glad he is, but know this—I think you are the only one left that can help him."

  A rueful smile curved Starlin's mouth. "You know better than that, Mammy Juno. We did nothing but fight when we were youngsters."

  "People can change if they try hard enough,"

  Mammy Juno stated defensively. "You'll see, even though he drinks a lot, he is a good man when he's sober."

  "From the way it sounds, he isn't sober very often." "I think you can change that," Mammy Juno said

  hopefully. "I have faith."

  Rayne Morgan had been more than startled to enter his cabin expecting to see his wife, and, instead, finding Riley trussed-up, his face the same bright red color as his hair. Rayne had come to tell Starlin that he'd decided she would stay with him, and, together, they would seek a possible solution to their ongoing problems. But he forgot everything as soon as he saw Riley.

  "Where is she?" he demanded tersely, untying the man.

  Riley rubbed his wrists to stimulate the circulation. "Gone—put on your slicker and hat and took off with a wicked smile on her face that would put the devil's to shame."