Splendor

by Catherine Hart

  With a final glance around to be certain there was no one lurking about, Blackbeard strode back to the waiting dinghy and rowed off. It was Devlin’s guess that the brigand had ventured at least three islands away from the area in which his ship lay anchored. In this maze of isles and cays, even the crewmen awaiting him there would never be able to guess where their murderous captain had stashed his treasure.

  Only Blackbeard knew for certain. And Devlin.

  A chuckle rose in Devlin’s throat as he imagined Blackbeard’s surprise when next he came to this island to retrieve his pilfered booty—and found only Stimmons’s bleached bones. And perhaps a note of thanks from his relentless ghost-devil.

  Devlin was very secretive when he returned to inform Eden that the men they’d heard talking had gone, and that it was safe for her to come out of hiding now. From the gleam in his eye, she knew he was excited about whatever he’d seen or heard, but as much as she wheedled, she could not get him to tell her about it. “Wait and see,” he said.

  Though their unexpected visitors were no longer a threat, Devlin thought it wise to remain in their bower until the Mirage returned for them, lest they chance upon more unwanted intruders. He admonished her to stay behind when he gathered their belongings and took them to the longboat.

  Reluctant to leave their tropical hideaway now that their time here was nearly over, Eden willingly complied, spending the last few hours of her honeymoon savoring this special place which would linger in her mind and heart forever. When at last Devlin rowed them out to the ship, tears shimmered in her eyes as she bade a final farewell to their island paradise. She hardly noticed that their longboat seemed more encumbered than it had been on their arrival, their rugs and bags heaped high in the center of the small craft. Nor did it strike her odd when Devlin unloaded most of their cargo himself, carrying it straight to their cabin.

  A short while later, he led her into their quarters and locked the door behind them. With a sweep of his hand, he gestured toward a large chest which stood in the center of the room, taking up a good deal of the floor space. “Prepare yourself, sweetling,” he warned her cheerfully. “You are about to receive a wedding gift a queen would envy.”

  The lock had already been broken, and Devlin quickly flipped the lid open, watching Eden with gleeful expectation. She gazed in dumbfounded astonishment, her eyes huge and her jaw slack. She could not believe her eyes. Surely, at any moment she would awaken to find this was all a glorious dream. It couldn’t be truly happening. This chest overflowing with gleaming coins and jewels simply could not be real!

  “Oh, my!” she exclaimed breathlessly, her hands clasped to her chest “Devlin, I’ve never seen such a sight in my life! Are those actual gems? Is all that gold and silver genuine?”

  “Aye. Eden, my love, you are looking at a good portion of Blackbeard's secret cache. ’Twas he who came to the island this morn to bury it. And now ’tis yours.”

  Eden sank to her knees before the open coffer. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured, thrusting her hands into the tangle of treasure. When she raised her cupped palms, they were dripping with strands of pearls, loose jewels, rings, and coins. Every gem she’d ever heard of, and some she did not recognize, sparkled and winked back at her in a dazzling display.

  For the first time, she could understand what made men risk their lives in pursuit of such fabulous treasure. How good, decent men could be lured into becoming highwaymen and pirates. Why men would scale mountains, trek through steaming jungles, and burrow far beneath the earth’s surface for such wealth.

  It wasn’t merely the adventure, or the challenge, or the danger. It was this—the dream of someday holding this much wealth in the palm of one’s hands. Of jewel-imbedded chalices, of piles of gold, of priceless gems the size of hen’s eggs. The search for elusive grandeur, evolving from simple greed into something much stronger—more of a quest, a relentless fever, that only a prize of this magnitude could hope to cure.

  “Devlin, is this really ours?” she asked softly, shock still strong upon her. “God’s teeth! There must be more wealth here than in all of England.”

  “I doubt that, though it is impressive, isn’t it? I’d love to be there when Teach discovers it’s missing. He’ll be fit to be tied.”

  “What shall we do with it all?” she said wonderingly.

  “Whatever we please, my sweet We could build a grand house anywhere you want—or two or three if you desire. We could start a business of our own, perhaps in shipping. That would please Rogers no end, I imagine. You and I could travel wherever we wish, and you could see the world as you’ve always longed to do. The possibilities are limitless.”

  “Oh, Devlin! That would be wonderful! But we must keep some back and invest it for the future. And I do hope you won’t mind sharing a bit of it with those of your crew who applied for amnesty, for they will need some means of beginning anew, now that they’ll no longer be pirating for a livelihood.”

  He nodded. “I intend to see that they have a decent start on their new lives, whether they choose to remain in my employ or not. We’ve been through many a good and bad time together, and I would not see them turned out with naught in their pockets.”

  Digging into the mound of treasure, Devlin extracted a diamond tiara, which he promptly placed upon Eden’s head. “I’ve called you duchess, and now you truly look like one,” he proclaimed. His admiring smile turned teasing as he held out his hand to assist her from her knees into his arms. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to make love with a royal wench.” “My blood is not blue,’ she reminded him, shivering delightedly as his fingers deftly released the fastenings along the back of her dress.

  “For that I am profoundly grateful,” he assured her, his lips nibbling along the curve of her slender neck. “Methinks I would much rather bed my own hot-blooded pretender than a real duchess anyway. But do indulge my secret fantasy a bit, won’t you, sweetling?” She played her part to perfection. She remained perfectly still as he bound her nude body to the bed with cool ropes of silver and bejeweled chains of gold. “Am I to be your prisoner, as well as your imagined duchess?” she asked, breathlessly excited by this new game.

  He cocked a taunting brow at her. “Why not? I was yours, and turnabout is fair play. Now you shall see what torment you put me through, for I intend to apply the same measures to you.”

  He proceeded to drench her flushed skin with necklaces and bracelets of glittering gems—sapphires, emeralds, rubies, and diamonds. Eden gave a small shriek as he plopped one dazzling topaz, not yet mounted in a proper setting, into her navel.

  He stood back to admire his work, nodding his approval as he divested himself of his own clothes. “You look like a sultan’s favorite dancing girl,” he told her, his voice rough with desire. “A pasha’s love slave.”

  “Nay,” she denied, her eyes outshining the jewels. “Not a pasha’s, but a pirate’s.”

  His smile was particularly wicked as he reached once more into the treasure chest and pulled forth a long strand of pearls. “’Tis said that pearls acquire an added sheen when warmed by a woman’s flesh. Shall we test that theory now, my sweet?”

  With tantalizing slowness, he drew the smooth gems over her lips, her throat, then wove them around her aching breasts and across her crested nipples. She sucked in a sharp breath as he trailed them lightly over her quivering stomach, snaked a path down her trembling thighs, and slowly up again. His long fingers caught the beads into a shorter length, holding them taut on their string as he delved between the hot folds of feminine flesh so sweetly bared by her outspread legs. The pearls, now so silken and round and warm, stroked her intimately. One following the other, adroitly applied by Devlin’s hand, they kneaded smoothly, repeatedly, at that tiny, throbbing nubbin of desire, until Eden was arching helplessly beneath their sensual caress.

  “Please,” she begged, her voice quaking on the brink of splendor. “Devlin, please!”

  With a low laugh that rang
with pure male satisfaction, he brought her to her peak. While she was yet in the throes of ecstasy he came swiftly over her, fusing his body to hers, thrusting her immediately into another wondrous spasm. Her moist depths sucked hungrily at him, like a pulsating satin glove; squeezing, pulling, greedily milking his seed from him as he blissfully accompanied her on a mad journey to rapture’s realms.

  “What a passionate princess you are, my love,” he avowed softly, his damp brow resting in the delicate curve of her shoulder. His lips kissed her there, tasting the dew of her spent ardor.

  She answered with a low laugh. “First a duchess, now a princess. Honestly, Devlin, you do exaggerate so extravagantly. What shall I be next—a queen mayhap?”

  “Aye.” He sighed contentedly. “Forever my sassy duchess and the queen of my heart.”

  They were on their way home with pardons in hand, sailing swiftly toward Charles Town and all that was so achingly familiar to her. Yet, in a strange way, Eden’s life in the Carolina colony now seemed but a distant dream, something that had happened a century ago that had to do with someone else entirely. So much had occurred since they’d left, and she had changed so dramatically in so short a time. If not for her mother, Eden wasn’t at all sure she would want to return to that sedate, restrictive life.

  To her surprise, she found herself suddenly sympathetic to Devlin’s way of thinking. Here, on the sea, with the breeze tugging at her hair, the sun and spindrift softly kissing her flesh, Eden experienced a sense of freedom she’d never known. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but rolling, sparkling waves. At night the stars appeared close enough to touch, the moon majestic and mysterious. Each morning the sunrise was glorious to behold, and each sunset seemed more magnificent than the last, as if the sky were being painted with promise by God’s own hand.

  “I wish we could stay here, in the middle of the ocean,” she told Devlin one evening, as they watched the moon rise in a cloudless indigo sky. “Sailing endlessly.” Cradled before him, his arms bound securely about her waist, she turned her face up to his with a winsome look. “Could we do that, do you suppose? Just the two of us?”

  “Wishful dreaming, my pet,” he answered with a regretful crook of his lips. “How would we live?”

  “We have the treasure. Surely that is enough to see us through several lifetimes, without the need to pirate and bring Rogers down upon our necks.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “But a frigate of this size requires a crew, so we would not be entirely alone. Also, we would still need to put ashore for supplies, and for the men to indulge their baser needs.”

  Eden rolled her eyes. “How delicately phrased,” she teased.

  He ignored her and continued with his list of reasons why her wish could not come true. “No doubt, soon you would miss your mother, and drive me to distraction with your whining.”

  “I do not whine,” she countered with a haughty sniff. He chuckled. “I fear you could learn to do so with astounding ease, especially if you should find yourself with child and want Jane at hand.”

  Eden sighed, acknowledging the wisdom of his words. “I suppose a ship would not be the most suitable place to raise a child,” she conceded. “And I do want to bear your children.” She frowned, a disturbing thought having just occurred to her. “You do want children, don’t you, Devlin?”

  He hugged her close, his lips grazing her upturned cheek. “Aye, Eden, I do. I want a long, lanky red-haired daughter with sea-sparkled eyes, an abundance of freckles, and a sassy mouth—-the spit and image of her mother.”

  Eden’s elbow connected sharply with his ribs. “Want what you will, but I intend to have a strapping son with sun-blond locks and midnight eyes, and the supreme arrogance of his father.”

  “Do you now?” he purred into her ear, his black eyes dancing. “Well then, Madam Kane, we’d best see what we can do to speed things along.” He swept her into his arms, and his long strides carried them swiftly toward their cabin. “Let it never be said that I did not do my utmost to fulfill your dearest desires.”

  Chapter 28

  They sailed into Charles Town harbor with the early-morning tide, almost a full month after leaving it. To Eden’s eye, nothing much had changed during their absence. No major fires or Spanish attacks had destroyed the town, no unexpected floods or plagues barred their departure from the Mirage.

  No sooner had they walked through Eden’s front door than Jane came dashing down the staircase in her night robe. She skidded to a halt the expression on her face a mixture of hope and anxiety.

  With a huge grin, Nate hurried forward to envelope Jane in a crushing embrace, twirling her around. “We got the pardon, Janie girl!” he proclaimed. “Set the date and send for the preacher!”

  A joyous smile wreathed Jane’s features, only to melt quickly away. Easing back from him, she gazed up at him with tearful eyes. “Nathan, my love, when you hear what I have to tell you, you might want to rethink our plans. Though I sincerely hope you won’t be too terribly upset.”

  Nate frowned, as did Devlin and Eden. When Jane hesitated, chewing her lip in the same nervous manner Eden often employed, Nate said somberly, “Spit it out, Janie. Whate’er ’tis, we’ll solve it together. What’s wrong?”

  On a sob, Jane declared, “’Tis not something so easily resolved, and certainly nothing we planned. Nate, I’m going to have a child. Our child.”

  All three listeners stood there stunned. Nate looked as if he’d been poleaxed. Jane’s face was as pale as parchment “A ... a babe?” Nate squeaked out the picture of astonishment. “I’m gonna be a father?”

  Jane nodded, her hands clenched together so tightly that her fingers appeared blue. “I ... I know it comes as a shock. It certainly did to me. I just need to know how you feel about it.”

  Nate gave a sharp shake of his head, like a man trying to rid himself of the lingering remnants of a nightmare. “Janie,” he croaked. Then a smile to rival the sun lit his wrinkled features. “I’ll be damned. I’m gonna be a papa!” He swept her back into his arms and peppered her face with kisses. “Woman, ye couldn’t have greeted me with grander news if ye’d just told me I was crowned King of England! How? When?”

  At last Jane joined him in his laughter, relief making her giddy. “You know very well how, you randy old goat!” she replied with a silly grin. “As to when, I assume you want to know how soon the child will arrive. According to my calculations, along about next April. And I can’t tell you how glad I am that you are thrilled about it. I wasn’t sure you’d take to the notion.”

  “How could I not?” he replied. “Oh, Janie, we’re gonna be a real family. You an’ me an’ the babe, an’ Eden an’ Devlin too.” He set her on her feet, but kept his arm firmly about her. “We’ve got news as well, though not as startlin’ as yers. Hold on to yer nightshirt and say hello to yer son-in-law, Janie. Eden and Devlin got themselves married in New Providence.”

  At this, Jane positively glowed. Tearing herself loose from Nate’s hold, she darted forward to gather her daughter to her breast. “Eden, I’m so happy for you both. I was hoping, praying that things would work out between you, even with all the complications still before you.”

  Her pleased gaze found Devlin, and she reached out a hand to him. “Am I correct in guessing that my daughter finally succeeded in her relentless attempts to convince you to apply for amnesty?”

  Devlin grinned and squeezed her slim fingers. “Aye. She worked her wiles on me until I could do no less. And I’ll wager we’ll be starting a family of our own not far behind you and Nate. Congratulations, Mother Winters.”

  Jane chuckled. “ ‘Jane’ will suit, Devlin. No sense in assuming formality at this late date.”

  Eden had yet to say a word. When Jane turned back to her, the younger woman’s eyes were still slightly dazed. “Oh, dear!” Jane said softly. “It seems we’ve well and truly shocked you.” Gently she led her daughter toward the nearest chair. “Come, Eden. You look as if you are about to swoon, an
d I am the one who is supposed to be prone to such behavior just now.”

  Eden allowed herself to be seated while the other three gathered around with looks of concern. At length she remembered to breathe, the air whooshing out of her lungs in a tremendous gush. “Oh, my! Who would have believed this?” she said weakly. She turned a quizzical gaze on her mother. “Mama, are you certain? How can this be? I’m ... you’re ...”

  Jane’s eyes narrowed in tender warning. “If you dare mention my advanced age, I swear I’ll take a switch to your backside, Eden Winters. I am only just forty. Not near ready to be fitted for a shroud, and not yet past my childbearing years, as nature has seen fit to prove. While I’ll admit it was not to be anticipated, neither is it totally phenomenal.”

  Eden gave a confused nod. “But is it safe for you to carry a babe now? You haven’t been well for so very long.”

  “Sweetheart, don’t fret. I am as healthy as a horse,” Jane assured her, and the men as well. “My inability to walk was more in my head than in my body. Strange as it may seem to you, I am looking forward to having this child. I’ve always regretted not being able to supply you with sibling playmates, and while this little one will not grow up alongside you, it could do so with your children, if you are likewise favored.”

  Eden answered with a wan smile. “I’m glad for you, Mama. Truly. ’Tis just such a surprising development.”

  “I know.” Jane laughed. “Think how I felt when first I suspected. And with all of you gone, I had no one in whom to confide. Lord knows, everyone is going to be horrified when they learn of it. Tongues will be wagging throughout Charles Town, most especially when the baby arrives prior to the usual term. Mayhap my considerable age will prove a benefit after all, if only to excuse the early birth.”

  Nate’s eyes popped wide again. “Merciful heavens, Janie! Ye must get hold of that preacher for an immediate weddin’. I won’t have my son born on the wrong side o’ the blanket, or with folks whisperin’ about him.”