‘Come now, Cassandra. You are being too hard on yourself.’
‘Am I?’ She sighed deeply and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. The first time Stuart met me he made no attempt to disguise the fact that he was attracted to me. He didn’t stop to think, and simply because he wanted me he made me his wife without bothering to find out more about me. But from the moment in which spontaneous attraction drew us together, fate stepped in and took a malicious pleasure in separating us. He will never be able to look at me without being aware of who I am—without seeing my father.’
‘One day he will.’
‘If he doesn’t, and we are to remain man and wife, then there is little hope of happiness for either of us.’
‘Has he mentioned divorce?’
Cassandra shook her head slowly. ‘To avoid any scandal that will bring discredit to the name I now bear, he has made it quite plain that divorce—which cannot be brought about without an Act of Parliament anyway—is out of the question. Maybe when we reach England he will send me away somewhere and we will live apart.’
‘I cannot believe he would do that. To do such a thing would be bound to cause comment among his friends, and be sure to cause him embarrassment.’ Taking her hand, Rosa drew her down beside her on the cushioned seat in the window recess, letting her eyes linger on her unhappy face. ‘He must love you, Cassandra. What other reason could there be for him wanting to marry you with such haste? And you love him, don’t you? It’s fairly obvious to anyone seeing you together.’
Cassandra nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I confess I do love him. I love him so much that if he sends me away—if he banishes me from his life totally—it will tear me apart.’
‘Then be patient. For the time it is going to take to reach England he will see you wherever he goes. He can’t put you entirely out of his mind. When he has come to terms with who you are, his love will overcome all this, you’ll see. Love moves mountains—at least, that is what my mother is always telling me, and my mother is never wrong,’ Rosa said with a smile, her eyes looking tenderly into Cassandra’s own, and Cassandra read in them a softness and a sympathy that comforted her.
She did her best to smile. ‘Your mother sounds very wise. Both our fathers have much to answer for, have they not, Rosa?’
Later, when her unpacking was done and Rosa had retired to her own cabin to rest, Cassandra went up on deck to breathe in the fresh sea air. She attracted stares and smiles from members of the crew, to which she responded pleasantly. But none of them seeing her could possibly be aware of how miserably unhappy she was as she moved to the rail. The sea was silky smooth and dotted with fishing boats. Idly she let her gaze wander along the deck towards the poop, her eyes lighting on Stuart standing next to the wheel, where he was immersed in discussion with James Randell.
She longed to go to him, but pride and the uncertainty of what sort of reception she would receive held her back. He had discarded his coat, and above his breeches he wore a sparkling white loose linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms. It flopped open to the waist to reveal the deep tan of his broad chest. His shining black hair was tied back at the nape, the breeze playfully teasing a heavy wave that dipped over his brow. Cassandra could have stood there for hours gazing at him, remembering what it had been like to have him hold her, to run her hands over his muscled chest. He seemed to sense her presence and, raising his head, looked to where she was standing.
Immediately he excused himself to Mr Randell and walked briskly towards her, his expression grim. Cassandra met his gaze squarely. She tried to smile, but she could tell by the way he looked down at her, studying her with an implacable coldness and barely contained anger that sent a chill through her heart, that nothing had changed, and she knew with a feeling bordering on despair that he despised her. Tilting her chin, she looked at him with ironic concern.
‘The atmosphere is quite stifling down in the cabin so I thought I would come on deck. I am allowed on deck, I hope?’
‘Of course you are. What possible pleasure could it give me in denying you the freedom of the ship? However, now we are under way, there are matters we have to discuss. Come,’ he said, taking her arm none too gently in a firm grip. ‘Let’s go below. What I have to say I prefer to say in private.’
Without protest Cassandra allowed him to escort her along the scrubbed deck and down to the cabin—which she had vacated just a short while before because the atmosphere inside hung as heavy as an opiate in the mid-day heat. As though Stuart could not bear to be close to her, when the door was closed he strode towards a small table and poured himself a goblet of wine. Drinking deep and placing the goblet down, he moved towards the window and stood with his back to her.
Cassandra could see he was as taut as a bowstring and that he was clearly battling with his feelings. She had an impulse to go to him and place her arms around his neck, but she was in no doubt that he would be repulsed by such an intimate display of tenderness. The heavy silence that stretched between them preyed on her nerves as she waited for him to speak, and when he at last turned and looked at her his face might have been carved out of stone.
‘Because of who your father was…who you are…I will not touch you again. What happened between us last night will not be repeated until I have considered how best to proceed.’
Anger and confusion were warring inside Cassandra’s head. ‘You are saying that you will not share my bed.’
‘Exactly. When we reach England I will have decided on the course our future will take. I will tell you then what we will do,’ he said dispassionately, immune to the wrathful expression on her lovely face.
‘I see.’ Cassandra was more disturbed by this than anything else. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, and in an effort to hide her hurt and disappointment she forced them back and held her ground. ‘I am not some mindless article to be used and disposed of at will. If this is how you see things, then our marriage is a sham and better ended.’
‘I’ve told you there will be no divorce. For the time being this matter is between you and me—no one else. Is that understood? Should it become known that I have taken the daughters of two of the most infamous pirates of the age on board the Sea Hawk, then it would lead to certain mutiny.’
‘I understand that. But what if Captain Tillotson makes it known who you have on board?’
‘He won’t. I have his word on that. I would also prefer that my officers and crew do not suspect there is anything amiss between us.’
Cassandra’s smile was one heavy with irony. ‘That will be rather difficult, don’t you think, if you are to sleep elsewhere. That alone will tell everyone all is not as it should be between us when you occupy a separate cabin to your wife.’
‘There is another bunk in the adjacent cabin, which I shall use to allay any suspicion. When in the company of other members of the crew—which will be often, since there will be a large complement at dinner each evening—for the sake of appearances you will act as a wife should and with due respect for the name you now bear.’
Immediately Cassandra tensed, her eyes jewel bright as she met his gaze. ‘Whatever my faults, Stuart, I hold loyalty and honour in high regard,’ she remarked sharply, buffeted by a myriad conflicting emotions, including fury and a deep and painful anguish. ‘But if you think the ease with which I delivered myself up to you last night gives you the right to dictate my every move, then you are mistaken.’
Stuart threw her a black look. There was a scornful curl to his handsome lips and his words were as cutting as steel when he spoke. ‘As your husband I have every right—and I ask this of you for your own protection. Do not forget who you are.’
‘How can I do that when you will not let me?’ she bit back.
Stuart ignored her remark. ‘As long as you are on board this ship your life is in danger. Should the crew discover your true identity then I may not have the power to save you, such is their contempt for Nathaniel Wylde or any pirate who threatens their subsistence and their
lives. Do you understand what I am saying?’
Smarting under his words, Cassandra nodded and swallowed down a hard lump that had risen in her throat, the futility of her situation bringing her very close to tears. ‘Perfectly. I will play the part of a dutiful wife. I will give you no cause for reproach. But for how long are we to maintain this charade?’
‘For the time it takes us to reach home. I am merely trying to spare you what will be a very painful and embarrassing ordeal. It is not going to be easy for either of us. But that is how it must be. I will decide what is to be done then.’
Cassandra’s ire at his condescending superiority was almost more than she could contain as she uttered angrily, ‘Then it would appear that my fate is in your hands, Stuart.’ She was unable to prevent the scalding tears from rising to her eyes and spilling over her lashes. Dashing them away with her fingers, furious with herself for allowing her weakness to show, she took a deep breath and threw back her head defiantly, her eyes dark and glaring at him like twin daggers.
‘But why wait? Why not dispose of me now?’ she cried, her voice breaking into a strangled sob, pointing to the knife he wore in his belt. ‘You have a knife. Why don’t you kill me yourself—or hand me over to your crew and let them do it for you and be done with the whole sorry affair? Anything would be better than your injustice.’
The bitter words rebounded through the cabin, ricocheting off the walls, reverberating in the silence. Weakened by the sight of her tears, Stuart looked at her and a flicker of emotion registered on his granite features, but then his face hardened once more and the implacable coldness was back in his eyes. ‘I see no injustice, and were you not a woman and my wife I would already have done so. But I am a fool,’ he growled. ‘Despite all you are guilty of, I do not wish you harm.’
‘When you married me I thought it was me you wanted. Does it really matter who my father was?’ she asked forcefully.
‘In this case, yes, it does. Before this, to me you were one person—now you are someone else. I cannot reconcile myself to that just now.’
‘I realise how difficult it must be for you and I do not ask your forgiveness at this present time. But no matter who or what my father was, it does not make me less worthy. My feelings for you remain unchanged. Can you not feel the same? Can you not feel the same as you did last night and accept me with all my faults—all my disgraces? Must you despise me?’
The pleading sadness in her voice and her obvious distress made Stuart pale and he moved slightly, as if to go to her, but he checked himself quickly. ‘Last night I was not aware of your disgraces when you so easily excited my desire. But having possessed you so ardently—and since learning who you are—I cannot help feeling that I have betrayed my brother’s spirit. Now I can only reproach myself. At present I cannot say what my feelings are, but I do not despise you.’
‘And despite coming from a family you have every reason to hate—you do still want me?’ she dared to ask, with hope beating in her breast. Raising her hand, she unconsciously pushed back a gleaming lock of hair that brushed her cheek, brandishing the beautiful ring he had given her that caught the light, mocking them both and their situation.
Waiting for his answer to her question, Cassandra stared at him with her glorious blue eyes, darkened by apprehension and unhappiness. An inner passion flashed in Stuart’s sombre eyes and the impulse to go to her and clasp her in his arms was written so clearly on his face.
He did go to her, but in sudden anger, not in love. Brutally he seized her by the shoulders, drawing her close. His face was suffused with rage and he looked with blazing eyes down into her own. She flinched and uttered a small cry of protest as she felt his fingers hurting her, and she struggled to free herself from his fierce hold, but he was too strong for her.
‘What man, having possessed you as I did last night, would not?’ he hissed through clenched teeth, his face, contorted almost out of all recognition, close to her own so that she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks.
‘I admit you have bewitched me. I am obsessed by you, and I do want you. But I will do everything within my power to overcome my desire for you both now and in the future. When your father murdered my brother, he tore the heart out of my whole family. I will not allow you to poison my life as he has done. If I were to kiss you now I would not be able to tear myself away from you, and in so doing I would lose all self-respect and despise myself.’
Stuart let his hands fall from Cassandra’s shoulders and she shrank back from the look on his face, defeated and deeply shaken by his words, thinking with bitterness that if this rancour was to continue then they would end up destroying each other like mortal enemies.
Drawing herself up, she raised her head proudly. ‘You have made it perfectly clear what you want, Stuart. You needn’t worry. I shall keep out of your way as much as it is possible to do in so confined an environment. And now I think you’d better leave before you do something you will have cause to regret.’
Without pausing, he left the cabin quickly and Cassandra stood absolutely still, listening to his footsteps dying. When she could hear them no more she slumped into a chair and let the tears run uncontrollably down her face, feeling so wretched and helpless she did not think she could bear it. She wanted to run after him, to tell him he could do what he liked with her, as long as she did not lose him.
But as the tears subsided she seemed to see before her, with terrifying clarity, the proud eyes and the arrogant smile of her father. She raised her head and wiped her eyes as a new determination began to take hold of her. The daughter of such a man could not demean herself and beg for a love that was denied her.
So, Stuart thought he could set her aside, did he? If he thought he could turn his back on her and coldly ignore her until he decided which course their marriage was to take, he was going to learn differently. He would soon realise she was neither meek nor sad. She would be as charming as her broken, empty heart would allow her to be, until he missed what they’d had together in each other’s arms so badly he wouldn’t be able to stand it.
The Sea Hawk’s crew settled down to the homeward journey. The air was balmy, the trade winds set fair as she was propelled along under full sail, following two cable lengths behind Captain Tillotson’s Spirit of Enterprise, all hands getting the best out of her. Stuart and his officers saw that the ship was as well run as on naval lines, with able men who would accede to the discipline on board and were of as good a character as could be vouched for.
Sickness also had to be dealt with. The greatest threat to any seaman was disease due to bad sanitation and diet, and the death rate on any ship at this time was high. Dysentery and smallpox often took a heavy toll, as did yellow fever—or yellow jack, as it was commonly called—which was an acute infectious disease of tropical climates, caused by the bite of a certain mosquito.
In trying to prevent from spreading the diseases contracted in the Caribbean that he thought might be contagious, the ship’s surgeon, Mr Patterson, took care to isolate the cases he thought posed a threat to the other seamen. So far two men had died of yellow fever, but the rest who remained sick were suffering from other illnesses—hopefully less contagious.
After no more than a week of leaving Barbados the winds failed and the cumbersome convoy of merchantmen drifted. Progress depended upon whatever breeze could be found. This involved the helmsmen bringing the ships in the convoy on to a different tack, and a good deal of patience from everyone as they waited to see if the ships caught the wind that would spur them on. In the warm calm surrounded by a vacuum of languid peace, the crew of the Sea Hawk had little to do but eat and drink, mend the sails and carry out minor repairs.
Determined to keep up the pretence of their marriage, Stuart was always polite and courteous towards Cassandra when in the company of others, and in this he succeeded, but the charade did not fool Rosa, who kept a quiet, dignified profile and her distance, determined not to exacerbate the tense situation that existed between the three of the
m.
Cassandra’s feminine hope was that by retaining intimacy with Stuart for long enough on board ship, she would eventually manage to break down his coldness towards her. Stuart had taught her the true meaning of love. Her body had surrendered to his totally and utterly, not just with the physical, overflowing need that was a part of love, and the satisfying of it, leaving her craving for more, but the tender, emotional love, the caring, that two people in love feel for each other.
The physical separation between them became intolerable as the days slipped by, and she was often tempted to go to him, to get him to speak to her, even if it roused his anger. Anything was better than this.
Each evening she dressed with care, and the moment she appeared to take her place at the large table in the after cabin where they took their meals with some of the ship’s company, she was immediately surrounded.
Her presence always enhanced the company and the officers drank deep of their liquor while Stuart sipped, drinking slowly, watching as his wife charmed and dazzled every man at the table with her polite conversation. She was an enchantress, full of light and laughter, and the evenings always grew merrier and noisier as they progressed, only becoming subdued when Cassandra excused herself and retired, taking Rosa with her.
Each time he was in her presence, watching her, in his wretchedness Stuart would feel a pain stir in the region of his heart. He was tortured by memories of their lovemaking, which gave him neither rest nor respite. His feelings towards her were complex. He both loved and hated her and, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t banish her from his thoughts. Without warning, a pair of fiery blue eyes would rise to his mind and mock him—devil take her.
She had the power to rouse his temper to violent rage, or to melt his heart with love. He couldn’t get her out of his blood, and he didn’t know how long he could stand it. She was like a witch who had entered his heart like a sword. It was agony to have her there, and an even greater agony to pull her out.
The Pirate's Daughter Page 12
