Had this woman owned the clothes Marlee now wore? Marlee couldn’t help but feel a moment’s regret for the lady and hoped she had met with a kind fate.
Feeling guilty for wearing the jewelry, she replaced the objects in the velvet reticule and put it in the bottom of the trunk.
Minutes later she was on deck, basking in the morning sun when Todd appeared. “You look mighty pretty, Lady Marlee,” he complimented her with a shy grin.
“Why, thank you,” she said and held out the skirt of her gown for inspection. “Should I wear dresses or do you think I should change into breeches for the rest of the voyage?”
“Dresses, my lady. Not that you ain’t a fetchin’ sight in breeches but you’re a lady and should dress like one. Besides, we ain’t got too much sailin’ time left. We’ll be at New Providence day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Lark hadn’t told her that there was so little time left. Soon she’d be returning to England—and leaving Lark behind forever. Marlee felt her stomach sinking at the thought.
“Can I be gettin’ you somethin’, my lady?” Todd asked and repeated the question when Marlee didn’t immediately answer. “You look mighty queer all of a sudden.”
“No, thank you. I—I’ll go back to the cabin now. The sun is much too warm.” She walked past Todd and started down the deck. Lark called to her and waved to her from his perch on the rigging. She waved back, unable to stop watching him. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the sound of his voice, his laughter. There was so little time left to be together, precious moments she’d cherish for the rest of her life. But why must they be parted? She didn’t understand why Lark insisted that she return to Cornwall. As far as she could tell, there was no good reason for her to leave him—ever.
“I’m going to stay,—” she decided aloud. “Come hell or high water Lark Arden isn’t going to get rid of me. Somehow I’ll find a way to make him love me enough so that he’ll beg me to stay—beg me to marry him.”
And that was the first time Marlee realized how much she wanted to be more than Lark’s mistress; she wanted to be Lark Arden’s wife.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Marlee stood beside Lark after the ship anchored in New Providence. The soft afternoon breezes wafted over them and slightly ruffled the water’s azure surface. Gently waving palm trees, filled with cawing and brightly colored birds, lined the sandy shoreline above small whitewashed houses. The natural beauty of the island enchanted Marlee, and she realized just how much of life she’d missed until she met Lark.
“What a lovely place.” She smiled her delight and held Lark’s arm. “This is nothing like Cornwall.”
“No, it isn’t,” he amicably agreed. The grin he flashed her was almost as blinding as the sun above them. “But if you’d seen the island just a few years ago, you’d have had a very different opinion. Pirates ran rampant, there wasn’t law and order. And you see those little houses nearby, well they weren’t there then. Most everybody lived in tents.”
“Really? What happened to change all of that?”
“A friend of mine, one Captain Woodes Rogers,” he explained. “The Crown appointed him to bring law and order to the island. The pirates tried to run him off, but Rogers and his men prevailed by giving each pirate a piece of land as his own, something no one could take away. Slowly, the pirates began to realize that there was more to life than just raiding ships, that owning land created a permanence in their lives that had been lacking.” Lark laughed. “Some of these men were the scurviest lot of knaves you’d ever want to meet. Now, they’re gentlemen and even help make laws for the island.”
Marlee was fascinated by Lark’s tale. “What happened to Captain Rogers?”
“He’s Governor Rogers now. I sent word to him that you’ll be staying in his home until I can get you return passage to England. It’s the safest place for you under the circumstances.”
“I see,” she told him but didn’t really understand why Lark still wanted her to go back to England. They’d been together every moment the last two days, eating together, laughing together—and making love. Her face flushed just to remember the deliciously wanton things they’d done in bed together. They suited each other wonderfully well, so why did he want her to leave him? Why?
She knew it wouldn’t do any good to plead with him to allow her to stay. Whenever she asked him why he wanted her to go home all he ever replied was that her leaving was for the best. The best for whom? Certainly, not herself. She knew she loved him and thought he loved her, too. For the life of her she didn’t understand him and no longer attempted to try. She was determined to find a way to remain with Lark, to force the bull-headed man to admit that he loved her.
But how?
Marlee’s attention was diverted from Lark when he waved at an approaching carriage on a cobblestoned street, stopping just short of the quay. “That’s Governor Rogers,” he explained and shouted hello to the tall, distinguished looking gentleman who disembarked and headed toward them.
Lark and Rogers shook hands, both smiling genially at the other. “Well, Arden, you’re looking fit and chipper,” Rogers noted. “I heard about your dispute with Silva and the kidnapping—”
“Yes, well, that’s over and done with for now,” Lark rudely interrupted the man, his eyes narrowing in Marlee’s direction. “I think it’s better left forgotten. I want to introduce you to my cousin’s widow, Lady Marlee Arden.” He brought Marlee forward. She dutifully curtsied to Rogers and extended her hand.
He kissed her hand and patted it in fatherly affection. “How charming and lovely you are, Lady Arden. I’m quite pleased you’ll be staying in my humble home until arrangements are made for your passage to England.”
“Thank you for having me, sir.”
“Ah, I should be thanking you, my lady. It isn’t every day that a member of the aristocracy graces our little island, much less dines at my table. I’ve arranged a small dinner party for tonight in honor of your arrival. It won’t be anything fancy for Lark didn’t give me adequate notice, but I’ve invited a few of our esteemed citizens for the occasion. I hope you’ll forgive our less than genteel ways. Some of us are a rowdy bunch still.”
Marlee liked Governor Rogers, finding him to be an honest and open person. She wondered what he’d think if he knew she was the daughter of a tin miner. She smiled her thanks. “I’m certain it shall be a most fascinating evening, and I look forward to it with anticipation”
“Good, good.” He offered his arm to her. “May I escort you to my home, Lady Arden?”
“That is kind of you, sir.” She placed her hand on his arm and followed beside him. After they were settled in the carriage, Marlee realized that Lark wasn’t with them. Peering anxiously out of the window, she noticed that he was still on the ship and watching her. “Isn’t Captain Arden coming, too?”
“Not at the present time, my lady. He expressed his desire to remain on the ship.”
“But—I shall be alone at your home?”
“Oh, no, Lady Arden,” Rogers assured her with a horrified expression on his tanned face. “My cousin Beatrix is visiting me. You’ll be properly chaperoned, never fear. And no one need know that you were traveling unchaperoned with Lark. That shall be our secret.” He patted her hand and pantomimed that he was buttoning his lips.
Marlee nearly laughed aloud at the ludicrous-looking gesture, even though she knew Rogers took her situation seriously. Here she was on an island that had been a haven for pirates only a few years before, and now she had to worry about what these same pirates and their wives would think about her if they learned the truth. And the truth was that she wanted to weep right now because she could feel herself losing Lark—and she wasn’t certain why.
~
“I’m from London, meself,” a man who was named Josiah Finch informed Marlee over the conch salad, a tangy dish of raw chopped conch that was spiked with hot peppers and lemon juice. “Me Nora was born in Bristol,
weren’t you, love?” He peered at the buxom blonde who sat next to him out of his eye that wasn’t covered by a black patch.
“Aye, I’m a Bristol lass,” Nora admitted proudly, the bright parrot feathers in her hair bouncing with the effort. “I was on me way to the Carolinas as an indentured servant when I met Josiah. He attacked and robbed the ship I was on. It was a fortunate meeting I always say.” Nora laughed out loud and exhibited two blackened front teeth.
Marlee smiled pleasantly but inside she wanted this evening to be over. She found no fault with the bounty at the governor’s table. The fare was superb, consisting of an assorted array of seafood, including freshly cooked mackerel and oysters. The governor’s home, though small, was clean and neatly tended by his cousin, Beatrix. Marlee found she liked Beatrix, who was small and olive-complexioned and had a few gray streaks in her hair which didn’t diminish her prettiness. Beatrix was kind and sweet and tactfully changed the course of the conversation at the supper table when it became too bawdy for Marlee’s taste.
Bawdy was an understatement, Marlee decided, to explain the motley assortment of people who surrounded the table. A more dubious bunch of folks she’d never before seen and decided that the men must have been pirates at one time. She’d been introduced to the four women and five men in their colorful attire by the governor himself.
One young man named Sloane Mason was seated next to her and he didn’t resemble a pirate at all. Marlee found him to be the most polished and conversant of the group. His clothes were well-made and subdued in color, and any opinion he offered was well received by the governor. At one point when the suggestive talk at the table caused Marlee to blush, Sloane leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I apologize for my friends, your ladyship. Please don’t think ill of us or our little island paradise.”
Marlee assured him that she didn’t, but it wasn’t the people or the loose talk that bothered her. Lark wasn’t there and she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again. For all she knew he may have sailed away after Manuel Silva by now, leaving her to her own devices.
“You mustn’t mind our guests,” Beatrix said to Marlee when the ladies retired to the sitting room and the men went into the governor’s study for rum and cigars. “They don’t mean any harm.”
“I’m not bothered, really,” she said for the second time that evening. “I appreciate your hospitality. You’re very kind to worry about me.”
“I do, my dear,” Beatrix admitted with a frown. “I worried each time Lark Arden’s name was mentioned at the table.”
“What?” Color rushed to Marlee’s face.
Beatrix offered her a small smile. “Pardon me for being blunt, Lady Arden, but you’re in love with Captain Lark. Your feelings for him are written on your face for all to see.”
Marlee’s hands instinctively covered her blushing cheeks. “I had hoped he’d be here tonight.”
“May I give you a word of advice?” Beatrix asked in a motherly tone of voice and continued before Marlee could even nod her head. “Try not to fall under his spell. Lark Arden can only hurt you.”
“It’s too late for that, ma’am.”
Beatrix sighed. “Then do yourself a favor and get far away from him. Woodes told me that Lark is arranging passage for you to England. I think that’s very wise on his part, and if I were you, I’d not see the man again before you leave.”
“Why? What has he done?”
“Trust me, my dear,” was all Beatrix said and joined the women.
Marlee didn’t feel like sitting with a group of women. She needed some fresh air and headed outside onto the moon-soaked terrace at the side of the house. She breathed in the sweet perfume of the sea grapes that grew in profusion nearby.
“I’d take Beatrix’s advice,” came a masculine voice from the shadows.
She turned, the bottom of her emerald satin gown swishing around her calves, to behold Sloane Mason smoking a cheroot and indolently leaning against a palm tree. Silver streaks of moonlight emphasized his dark hair and glittering blue eyes.
“I don’t mean to be rude, sir, but I dislike your sneaking up on me.”
“I apologize, my lady,” he solemnly intoned.
“I also dislike your listening to a private conversation.”
She saw the quick glint of a smile. “I won’t apologize for that. I learn a great deal by keeping my ears open and my mouth closed. And if I heard correctly, I’d surmise that Beatrix believes that Lark Arden is using you.”
Marlee turned away, unable to think of anything else to say to Sloane Mason. In fact, she was horribly embarrassed for the man to have overheard the conversation. And she was seething with indignation not only because of what he’d overheard and said to her but because Lark evidently didn’t care enough about her to put in an appearance. No doubt, he was making arrangements to send her to England, eager to be rid of her. But why? Could Beatrix and this Sloane Mason be right about Lark? Had he used her for his own pleasure during the voyage, just as he’d used her fortune? Would he leave and not tell her farewell? He’d done that to her before. She wouldn’t believe he’d do it again.
“I don’t want your concern, young man,” Marlee haughtily pronounced.
Sloane laughed heartily. “You sound like you’re fifty years old. I bet you’re no more than sixteen.”
“I’m nearly nineteen,” she declared, vexed for him to think she was a mere child. She was a woman now—Lark had seen to that.
“Again, forgive me.” He made a deep bow of apology.
“I think you’re making sport of me.”
His face softened. “Perhaps a little, my lady.”
“Why? I’ve never done anything to offend you. I don’t even know you —or like you, at this point,” she admitted in all honesty.
Sloane came closer to her and leaned near to her. “Ah, Lady Marlee, your words wound me. Perhaps I jest with you because you fancy yourself in love with Lark Arden. Perhaps I wish to be as fortunate as Lark in affairs of the heart.” He clasped her hand in his. “I own a fine ship and have a beautiful spot on the island to build a fancy house, a house any fine lady would like. I can give a woman whatever Lark can and more—much more. You have only to ask, my sweet, and I will do your bidding.” Sloane put her hand to his mouth to kiss but Marlee pulled it away.
“Sir, please, I don’t know what you’re doing—”
“Yes, you do,” he ground out and grabbed her around the waist. “You’ve enticed me with your beauty and sweetness. I want only to kiss you, please just once I would like to kiss a fine lady—”
His lips barely made contact with hers before Marlee was aware that Sloane Mason had been wrenched away from her. She tottered and clung to the palm tree to keep from falling, suddenly aware that Lark was standing with clenched fists above the prone figure of Sloane who now lay in the sand. “Get up and fight, you bloody cur!” Lark shouted to Sloane. “Get up so I can beat your lying face in.”
Marlee had never heard Lark speak like that before, not even to his crew, and there was something frightening about his stance and tone of voice. He looked dark as a black tower in his evening clothes and as wild as a storm as he waited for Sloane to rise to his feet.
“Lark, please, nothing happened!” she cried in fear that he’d kill Sloane Mason.
He shot her the blackest look she’d ever seen and instantly she realized she’d be better off remaining silent. There was something between these two men that she didn’t understand, something of which she wasn’t a part. “Get up and fight!” Lark cried. “I want you to fight me.”
“I know you do, dear brother,” Sloane mocked lowly. “And that is why I won’t.”
Brother? Had Marlee heard Sloane correctly? Lark couldn’t possibly be his brother. But as Sloane rose to his feet and she was able to compare the two men together, she quickly saw the resemblance. They were built the same, their hair was the same ebony color but whereas Lark had dark eyes, Sloane’s eyes were a startling shade of blue. Yes, they were
brothers but bad blood flowed between them.
Sloane dusted himself off, taunting Lark with his nonchalance. “I paid dearly for this suit of clothes, Lark, and now you’ve made me dirty it. You always were a bully, even when we were children.”
“And you were always a hateful bastard,” Lark said with such startling calmness that Marlee shivered.
“Aye, you’re right, bastard I was and bastard I’ll always be in your eyes, big brother.” Sloane grinned and looked at Marlee. “I’m the Arden bastard son. Lark detests me as much as I detest him.”
“Shut up, Sloane!” Lark commanded and moved near to Marlee to take her arm. “Marlee doesn’t want to hear any of your imbecile ravings.”
“Hmmm, maybe she should,” Sloane mused aloud. “Maybe she should hear all I have to say. I’d think your fine lady might be interested in what I’d tell her.”
“Get on your way, you coward, or I’ll—” Lark made a move in Sloane’s direction, but Sloane nimbly jumped out of the way and chuckled.
“My lips are closed, dear brother, I assure you of that.” Sloane made an exaggerated bow in Marlee’s direction and said with all sincerity, “Remember what I told you, my lady. If ever you have need of me, I shall help you. I meant every word. Good night to you.” He turned and suddenly fixed his sapphire gaze on Lark. “And to you, too, dear brother.” Then he headed down the beach and away from the house.
Marlee felt Lark trembling. Apparently the emotions between these two men ran deep. She held onto his hand and looked up at him. “Lark, he wasn’t going to hurt me. I would have been able to take care of myself.”
“You’ve no idea what Sloane Mason is capable of,” he stated and imploringly sought her eyes. “Stay away from him, Marlee. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) Page 13
