Written in the Stars

by Sherrill Bodine

  Remembering she’d had thoughts of their being alone on the boat with that bottle of champagne, she knew now that nothing was going to happen between them tonight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The first thing Cordelia searched out when they dropped anchor was Morgan’s boat. No lights. Subdued voices. No Morgan himself. Was he there below or still on Crescent Key plotting against her?

  Innis kissed her again before going straight over to Foley’s Treasure, leaving her confused and filled with regret. If he was the right man for her, wouldn’t she have stronger feelings for him? She certainly had very strong feelings for Morgan Murphy, starting with doubt.

  She didn’t trust Morgan one bit. He raised her hackles, provoked her temper. And he enjoyed doing so. Innis, on the other hand, did everything in his power to make her happy and to see that her dream was realized.

  How could she be attracted to two so very different men?

  Apparently having been aware of their approach, Mom came back aboard before Cordelia could escape to her cabin. “Did you have a wonderful evening?”

  “An interesting one.”

  Cordelia showed her mother the chain and crescent and explained that she was now partners with Morgan Murphy so the man couldn’t simply walk away with the whole mother lode if he found it first.

  “Sounds to me like there should be more to that story.”

  “Wise mother,” Cordelia said, kissing her cheek. “I’m off to bed.”

  Not that she was sleepy.

  Back in her cabin, she changed into shorts and a T-shirt, then brought out Elizabeth’s journal. Maybe she would read something that would help her figure things out, like how she could be so attracted to a man who was obviously trouble if her wrist burning and ring tightening when she was too close to him was an accurate tell.

  Odd, though, that both wrist and ring had been quiet that afternoon when he’d boarded the Evening Star.

  What in the world could that mean? she wondered as she began to read.

  Dunham Castle, 1603

  The duke is by my side as I face the man who has betrayed all that we hold dear. The sun streaming in through the narrow windows dapples the cool stone floor with light. It falls upon Carlyle’s face, and I see what weapon he will use against me.

  I step in front of the duke to protect him, for it is my duty.

  “Her child is a bastard as is Stephen. It is to William she gave what should rightfully have been mine.”

  It is the moment I knew would come. I feel the duke’s warmth so close behind me, yet he has not moved, nor have I.

  “He was proud of their coupling. He told me so himself in the woods that last day. Ask her if it is not true that she loves only William, and her bastard is his.”

  Carlyle’s triumphant shout swirls around me like an evil net in which I am caught. To deny Will is one blasphemy I will never commit.

  I stand tall as I turn to confront the duke.

  I see knowledge in his gaze a heartbeat before his mouth moves into a smile. He knows the truth and rejoices.

  My heart swells in my breast as I send the silent message he now believes. Nothing else matters except that these are the children of our hearts.

  The duke turns to challenge Carlyle, declaring Serena and Stephen to be the children of his body and refusing to deny them.

  With hatred in his eyes, Carlyle points his finger at me. “She has bewitched you! She is a witch, and her power lies in her celestial girdle.”

  Smiling, I uncoil it from my body, sapphire stars and emerald crescent moons twirling from strings of gold and diamonds, and toss it at his feet. I need it no longer, for its power lives within me.

  “Take it and be gone.”

  His expression triumphant, Carlyle picks up the celestial girdle and hugs it to his chest as he leaves, knowing he is banished as the murderer of his brother.

  Stephen is now the heir, as I promised Will. His death is in some small measure revenged.

  He lives on in me, and in his children. It is for me and for Serena and for Stephen, to think and act always as he would have done.

  Remember that the future is for you to write, for it is set firmly in your stars.

  It couldn’t be!

  Cordelia picked up the chain and crescent and remembered the power she’d felt when it had touched her ring and when Morgan had kissed her.

  That kiss had been heart-stopping. She’d never experienced a like reaction to any man before—of course it had something to do with the artifact and Elizabeth’s magic. This had to be part of Elizabeth’s celestial girdle. How had Morgan gotten hold of it?

  What did it all mean?

  Her birthmark had burned with familiar warning.

  According to the journal, Elizabeth had tossed the celestial girdle at the villain Carlyle, who’d taken it with him to his ship. What if he’d passed it down to his descendants the way the keepsake treasure chest and Posey ring had gone through Elizabeth’s line?

  Dear Lord, what if her mother had been correct when she’d said that if Elizabeth’s belief that she and Will would be together again was true, then Carlyle would try to stop them?

  Disturbed at the turn the evening had taken, Cordelia slipped the crescent and chain under her pillow and tried to sleep.

  …

  Innis held in his emotions until he reached the room in the bowels of Foley’s Treasure. Once the door was closed and locked, he let out a growl of frustration. Morgan Murphy had some kind of power over Cordelia. If he didn’t do something, the pirate would be sure to woo her into his bed.

  The thought of Murphy’s hands on the woman he loved made his gut clench. Bad enough that Murphy had kissed her.

  Worse had been her enthused response.

  And then when he’d kissed her good night, it hadn’t been anything like the kiss they’d shared after he’d saved her from the shark. This time, he’d felt like she had been a million miles away.

  Had Murphy filled her thoughts even then?

  What to do?

  Cordelia was destined to be his. He’d never met another woman that compared to her. She was the love of his life. His soul mate. He couldn’t lose her. He would do anything in his power to make Cordelia love him. Brigitte had come up with a love spell and he’d thought why not? He’d been sure Cordelia had just needed a little push. The charm hadn’t really worked or the spell had worn off, and Murphy had found a way to steal her interest.

  Getting the pirate out of the picture was the key. He had to find a way to discourage Murphy, to give him good reason to leave the dive site. And Cordelia.

  And if the pirate wouldn’t leave, what then?

  He unlocked and opened the doors to Brigitte’s closet, to reveal a high, narrow table covered with red velvet, decked with black candles and pots of herbs and vials of oils. Brigitte’s domain, kept secret from her husband Leandre, who wouldn’t approve of her practicing the black arts of Voodoo rather than the more acceptable, positive religious side.

  How humiliating it would be to admit to her that another man had Cordelia’s attention after Brigitte had created that fetish for him. Brigitte was expert in all manner of spells and curses, but this was something he didn’t want to share with her. He slammed the doors shut.

  So how was he going to keep Murphy away from the woman he loved?

  …

  Even as Morgan watched the Evening Star, he slipped the treasure he’d found in the surf over his ring finger. Surely this had been a wedding ring, a token of love considering the engraving inside the band.

  …yet never doubt my love…

  His thoughts turned to Cordelia Ward.

  He’d only met the lovely and infuriating marine archaeologist that very morning, but oddly enough, it felt to him as if they’d known each other fo
rever. He would have sworn when he held her in his arms to dance that he’d held her before. An electrical current had passed through them when their hands had met with the chain between them. And that kiss…a new experience…more than lust. Never before had he felt so many warring emotions with such little encouragement from a woman.

  A challenging woman.

  Spirited.

  Perhaps more complex than he’d given her credit for.

  Cordelia Ward was one to watch. One to get to know better. Assuming she didn’t back out of the partnership offer, he would have that chance. If he could only find a way to neutralize Innis Foley’s influence over her. Surely that wouldn’t be impossible.

  With the fireworks simmering between him and Cordelia, if he could keep Innis away from her somehow, it would be no time before he would have her full cooperation on the dive site and in his bed. He would look forward to that.

  But tonight he was alone, the memory of her—her scent, her taste, her very peevishness—his only companion.

  Undressing and dropping his clothes on the floor, he threw himself into his bunk and clicked off the room light.

  Hoping to dream of her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning, Cordelia wasn’t any more clear about the two men competing for her. The one thing she wasn’t at all conflicted over—she had to find the celestial girdle and remove the jeweled dagger from the equation.

  Cordelia felt a bump that told her Foley’s Treasure had been snugged against the Evening Star. She heard male voices followed by a thump on the deck above her. Quickly climbing into a swimsuit and oversize T-shirt as a cover-up, she then picked up the artifact Morgan had given her.

  The moon and chain had a powerful effect on her, if that dream was any indication. Even now, a thrum from her Posey ring made her think ring and chain “recognized” each other. Not that she would share such a crazy notion with anyone.

  But what if having the artifact with her could lead to the more important find?

  Hesitating only a second, she pulled the artifact from under her pillow and hooked the chain together. Then she slipped it over her head, tucking the crescent into the top of her swimsuit, before entering the galley to find her mother entertaining Innis over a cup of coffee.

  Wisps of the night’s dream still haunting her, she somehow found her voice. “Morning.”

  Innis’s wistful expression made her flush. He wanted her, thought they were destined and longed for her to feel the same. She had no reason to suspect him. Regret coursed through Cordelia. She had no proof that either man was not what he seemed to be. Only the dream cast doubt in her mind. After all his planning for a romantic evening, Innis must have been hurt at the way it had ended, with her distracted by Morgan.

  “Sleep well?” he asked.

  She flushed. “Don’t worry, I’m stoked to dive.”

  “Great timing.” Mom removed a dish from the oven. “Breakfast is ready. Enough for three.”

  Eggs, bacon, chopped mushrooms, chunks of bread and cheese, all baked together. Cordelia’s favorite.

  “I don’t want to impose, Madelyn.”

  “You’re not imposing.” Seeing Innis in person, Cordelia felt the tension from the dream melting away.

  Mom insisted. “You need protein before you dive.”

  Innis shrugged and smiled. “Then I’ll have some.”

  As they ate, they talked about plans for the day.

  “I thought you and I should take the first dive with another team,” he said.

  “Good by me.” The sooner she got in the water, the sooner she would have a chance to find the dagger. She simply couldn’t put the warning out of mind.

  “We’ll alternate with the other two teams, then go for a second dive this afternoon.”

  She asked, “How much of the grid is laid down?”

  “Enough to keep us busy for a few days. If we don’t find the mother lode within the area, we can expand it.”

  What if Morgan, staying to the periphery of their work area, had already found the mother lode—the reason he’d had the chain and crescent?

  Remembering she’d agreed to his proposed partnership, that she’d agreed to work out the details today, breakfast suddenly lost its taste. She set down her fork and decided talking to the man could wait until after her dive. Fingering the artifact beneath her cover-up, she only hoped it could help her find the knife.

  Scraping his own plate clean, Innis gave her mother a nod of approval. “Excellent, Madelyn. Just the right start to the day.”

  “Delicious,” Cordelia agreed, rising and kissing her mother on the cheek.

  Taking their plates to the sink, they bumped hips. Cordelia smiled at Innis, who seemed himself again.

  “Have a good dive,” Mom said, her voice a bit wistful.

  Cordelia wanted in the worst way to invite her mother to dive with them, but she suspected it was too soon. Mom had asked her to stop pushing, so she would let things unfold naturally. Not to mention, there was potential danger below the surface if her dream-vision had any validity.

  Innis let her cross from the Evening Star to Foley’s Treasure first, but he was right behind her, and he surreptitiously brushed a kiss over her bared shoulder, then winked at her. Warmed by the attention, she smiled at him, then glanced across the yacht to see Morgan’s boat lazily bob on the other side, no one on deck.

  Had he been so close all night?

  At least in her dreams?

  Which man?

  Checking her gear before donning her wet suit, she tried to put the dream—and her mother’s warning about the past catching up to the present—out of mind. But, wanting to know what Morgan was up to, she couldn’t help but look for him. The older man, today wearing an oxygen tank that had nothing to do with diving, was now on deck. Was Morgan in the Sea Rover’s galley, or had he beat them into the water? Was he already investigating the shipwreck?

  “Ready?” Innis asked.

  “As I’ll ever be.” Touching the chain and crescent still secured in her swimsuit, hoping again the artifact could lead her to the celestial girdle and therefore the dagger, she zipped up her wet suit.

  “Start the magazine,” Innis told one of his men.

  On the dive platform with a second team, they set their fins, lights, masks, regulators, and mouthpieces in place and rolled back into the water.

  As always, the magic of the sea lured Cordelia in deep…deeper…deeper. She wanted to lose herself in the dive. The resurfacing of snippets of the dream prevented that. Too aware of the risk, she darted her gaze in every direction, more focused on preventing the dream from becoming reality than she was on finding the mother lode.

  One of the divers found the second cannon, and all three men set about uncovering it. Not that the find was of no interest to her—she was simply distracted.

  Though she forced herself to concentrate on visualizing the girdle and dagger, no matter where she looked, no matter how far out she moved on the grid, nothing sparkled at her from within the sands. If the chain and crescent she wore was magically connected to the celestial girdle or any other artifact, it wasn’t leading her to them.

  So far, they’d only done nonpenetration dives, investigating exterior parts of the wreck easily available. Maybe she needed to go deeper. Maybe the mother lode was still in the bowels of what was left of the old ship.

  Glancing over at the other divers, she saw they were focused on their canon and were preparing to bring it up.

  Penetrating the light zone of the wreck’s structure presented a slightly greater risk, but she would keep the exit point visible, and she did carry a spare light in case the one she was using went out.

  Once inside, darkness surrounded her, and she could only see whatever her headlamp lit directly in front of her. She kept an eye
out for anything that looked off even as she searched. Useless at this level. She would have to set a line to go deeper, and she wasn’t prepared to do so without Innis or one of the other men by her side for safety. She was trained in deep-penetration diving, which meant running a guideline inside the wreck from her starting point. Following a line could be necessary to find her way out if she stirred up sediments.

  Thinking she should suggest such a run for that afternoon, Cordelia became alarmed when her wrist suddenly began to burn and her ring tightened in warning. Startled, she looked around to find she wasn’t certain of the way out now. Her mind had drifted as she had from the other divers. Making her way through the dark, she hesitated when a plume of sand suddenly surrounded her. Through it, she faintly saw movement straight ahead, but she could make out no other diver.

  Sharks?

  Gasping at the thought, she nearly panicked, even though no shark appeared. Short of breath, she realized she wasn’t getting enough air. Her gauge showed she had nearly half a tank of air left. What the hell?

  Trying not to panic—her lungs were already starting to protest—she knew getting to the surface conscious would be a feat. Breathing slowly and shallowly, she reoriented herself and found the exit, then inched upward. Without air, the climb was awkward, and she was feeling unfocused. Her movements became sluggish and off point. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, another diver grabbed onto her and pulled on her mouthpiece. Panicking, she tried fighting until the diver shoved his extra air hose at her.

  Gratefully taking it, she sucked in enough air to regain her bearings. Able to breathe again, she relaxed and let him take her up. When they broke the surface, she stared into the man’s mask to meet his green-eyed gaze.

  Morgan.

  The pirate had just saved her life. Grateful, she couldn’t help but feel warmth flowing through her. Raising her mask, she said, “Thank you.”

  “You looked like you were struggling. Like you were out of air. I would have done that for anyone.”