Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides)

by Vinet, Lynette

  On the other side of the room Lark heard Holcombe clear his throat. “Captain, you’ve certainly got your hands full with those two ladies aboard. I don’t envy you one bit.”

  “Get to sleep!” was Lark’s swift and less than pleasant rejoinder.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” came Holcombe’s voice. Lark swore the man sounded amused. Lark, however, wasn’t amused and groaned his dismay. Would this voyage ever end and did he want it to end? Once they reached Bermuda, Marlee was forever lost to him. He’d be forced to place her on a ship to England and never see her again. Once more, he’d have to tell her goodbye and he didn’t think he could.

  In fact, he knew he couldn’t.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  “We’ll throw a party, a huge party for you, Bettina, so that all of your friends and our neighbors can welcome you home. I can think of no other way to celebrate your return to us, my dearest daughter.” Lord Cyril Gilbert affectionately placed a kiss on Bettina’s forehead and patted her hand. Lady Olivia, Bettina’s mother, smiled brilliantly though her eyes were misted with tears. The Gilbert family had been reunited, and Lark’s part in the affair was not overlooked.

  Lord Gilbert came to stand beside Lark who woodenly waited alongside the open parlor window. Once again, as he’d done when Lark returned Bettina to her parents just the day before, Lord Gilbert enfolded Lark in a fond embrace. “Thank you, lad, thank you for bringing our only child back to us. I can’t tell you how much this means to her mother and I. We’ve been beset with worries, horrible imaginings, since that heathen took our girl.”

  “I had to find her, sir,” Lark simply said, finding Gilbert’s gratitude embarrassing. Because of Lark, Bettina had been lost in the first place. He had to go after her, and now that she’d been safely returned, he was no longer in their debt. Soon all of them would know this.

  From across the room, Lady Olivia gave a tiny sob and wiped her eyes with the hem of her lace handkerchief. “Are you really all right?” she asked Bettina. “I’ve been beside myself—”

  “Mother, I’m fine, don’t I look all right to you?” Bettina said and hugged her mother.

  Lady Olivia smiled. “Yes, you’re beautiful, but—but did that filthy pirate—touch you in anyway?”

  “Olivia, please don’t badger Bettina about any of that—not with Lark here,” Lord Gilbert interrupted and cast a sideways glance at Lark. “That pirate didn’t molest her, you can see how healthy she is. Assure your mother about that, Bettina.”

  “I’m well in every way,” Bettina smoothly lied. “Do you think Lark would want to marry me if I weren’t untouched?”

  Lady Olivia fanned herself with the handkerchief. “Please don’t think ill of us, Lark, but you must realize what would happen to Bettina if malicious gossip was started about her virtue. As Bettina’s fiancé, you will make it clear if anyone has the audacity to ask that Bettina wasn’t molested by that filthy man.”

  “I shall, Lady Olivia.” Lark nodded but looked guiltily away. What a lie that would be!

  Lady Olivia appeared satisfied and Bettina smiled in triumph. Her reputation was safe.

  “How long shall Lady Arden be staying with us?” Olivia questioned Lark and poured a cup of tea from the silver tea service.

  Before Lark could reply, Bettina readily jumped in. “Until a ship can be secured for her return passage to England, Mother, I told you that yesterday.”

  “Oh, yes, I’d forgotten in the happiness of your return. She’s such a charming and quiet person. Will she stay for the wedding, do you think?”

  “I doubt it,” Bettina commented dryly, aware of Lark’s continued silence.

  Lord Gilbert chuckled. “That’s one event I do so look forward to. It’s always been my fondest wish for Bettina to marry my best friend’s son, and now it really is going to happen.” He bent and kissed the top of Bettina’s head again and smiled affectionately at Lark.

  “Really, you must excuse me,” Lark blurted out, feeling as if he were suffocating. He had to get away from this talk of marriage. “I need to see to some things on the ship.”

  “I do wish you’d consider staying here, Lark. Will you return for supper?” Olivia called but Lark was already striding away and didn’t hear. Bettina hurriedly rose to her feet and followed after Lark.

  “That really was very rude,” she scolded him when she caught up to him on the beach. “My parents will wonder why you’re acting like this. Whatever is the matter with you, Lark? You’re outrageously grumpy, I can’t say a civil word to you. Either you’re shouting at me or not paying me one bit of attention.” Bettina pouted and Lark was too exasperated to pretend any longer.

  “I don’t want to marry you, Bettina! I won’t marry you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Taking a deep breath, he took her hands in his and his face softened as did his voice. “I hadn’t meant to tell you like this, but I don’t love you. There is no way that I’ll marry you, even if I lose my honor in refusing.”

  “But—but my parents are planning the wedding, they believe we’ll be married. My father expects you to marry me,” she said harshly.

  “I don’t care what your father expects. I don’t love you and I’d be doing all of us a disservice by marrying you.”

  “Damn you, Lark! How do you think this will appear to everybody if you refuse to marry me? People will assume that Silva illused me.”

  “Dear God, Bettina, what a choice of words. You know perfectly well that you were his willing mistress. Do you think I’m so dense that I didn’t realize your true situation with the man?”

  She bit nervously down on her lower lip. “I—I admit that I was his mistress, but only because I had no other choice.”

  “Did you try to fight him off? I heard that you didn’t.” His penetrating eyes found hers and she couldn’t look at him. “You’ve answered my question.” Lark began to move away from her, but she grabbed his hand.

  “I suppose you fancy yourself in love with Marlee, the virtuous and innocent Lady Arden,” she shrewishly jeered.

  “Yes, I love her.”

  Bettina grimaced and her hold tightened on his fingers. “You’ll have to live without her love, dear Lark, for I’ll never release you from your promise to marry me. Because you didn’t adequately defend me, I was captured by Manuel Silva, and I’ll never let you forget it. Who’ll marry me if you don’t? People will think the worst. I’ll never be able to hold up my head around here again. The shame will kill my parents.”

  “You should have thought about all of that, Bettina, before you shamed yourself with Silva and his pirate crew.”

  She dropped his hand and sucked in her breath. She turned a pale shade of white. “That’s—a lie. I suppose Lady Arden told you what Silva said about me. She wants to make me look bad in your eyes, Lark. She’s lying to you.”

  “Marlee never mentioned anything to me, but one of Silva’s crew members did.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, seeing he already knew the truth. “None of that can be proven, and besides, what difference would it make if I’d had one man or ten before you? You’re going to marry me, you have to marry me.”

  Lark had one last way to reason with Bettina. He felt so sorry for her, he truly did, but he didn’t love her. She was a beautiful woman standing there on the beach with her auburn hair blowing wildly about her face. He should have confronted her sooner but while on the ship, they’d encountered days of fierce storms and he hadn’t been able to speak to her or to Marlee. Now that he had told her how he felt, his conscience was clear. Bettina must be made to understand that he wouldn’t marry her. “I’m going to speak to your father about breaking the engagement.”

  “No—please.” She clutched at his arm and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Mother told me that Father has been unwell since my kidnapping. I don’t want him to suffer a shock. Could you wait until after my homecoming party? I do so love seeing him happy. I mean, I don’t know how mu
ch time he may have—” Her voice drifted away and she dissolved into tears.

  Lark hated to see a woman cry. He wondered if Bettina’s tears were genuine but he hadn’t any reason to doubt what she told him about her father’s health. The least he could do for her was to wait until after the party to speak with Lord Gilbert. “All right,” he said and handed her his handkerchief. “I’ll wait until then.”

  Bettina dabbed prettily at her eyes. “Thank you, Lark.”

  Lark left her a few moments later. Once he was a distance down the beach, she heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness that he’d fallen for her lie about her father’s health, something she regretted doing but the ends justified the means. And in the end, Lark would be forced to marry her and he better get used to the idea.

  ~

  The night air was perfumed with the scent of roses which grew wild along a thin strip of path that led to the beach. A carpet of moonlight, dazzling as silver, danced upon the seafoamed waves of St. George’s Harbor. Marlee found her way to the beach easily enough for it was nearly impossible to get lost on the small island of Bermuda. The place enchanted her with its lush, tropical vegetation, and the romantic spell it weaved over her wasn’t to be denied. However, there wasn’t anyone with whom she wanted to share the moonlit night but Lark. And he belonged to Bettina.

  A ragged sigh split her lips. Only half an hour ago, she’d left Lord Gilbert’s large stone house to wander aimlessly by herself. Lark had eaten supper with them, and she’d forced herself to politely listen to the conversation at table and answer any questions placed by Bettina’s parents and Alastair Caine, a young man who’d been introduced as Bettina’s cousin.

  Somehow she’d made it through the meal, attempting unsuccessfully not to meet Lark’s gaze or notice how Bettina monopolized Lark and hung on his every syllable. When Lady Olivia turned the conversation to the wedding plans, Marlee excused herself on the pretext of being so weary that she needed to rest. Instead of going to her room, she went outside. She simply couldn’t stand seeing Lark and Bettina together. She prayed a ship would soon be ready to transport her to England. Lord Gilbert had told her one would be arriving from the colonies within a matter of days, days which passed interminably slow.

  The skirts of her blue silk gown billowed about her like a summer sky when she sat on the sand. A warm breeze caressed her face and neck, and she closed her eyes to breathe in the sea air. She thought that she’d like it here very much if not for Lark’s and Bettina’s impending nuptials. If only things could be different, if only—

  “A rose for your thoughts, my lady.”

  Marlee opened her eyes and settled her startled gaze upon Lark who knelt in the sand beside her. He held out one of the wild roses she’d seen earlier. What was he doing here? Did the man live only to torment her? “I don’t think you want to know what I’m thinking,” she proclaimed more crisply than she’d intended.

  “Hmm, I think your tone is sharper than the thorns on this rose, but I’d like to know what you’re thinking, Marlee. Indulge me, please.”

  “Hah! I’d rather not do anything to please you. Why don’t you go back to your fiancée? I’m certain Bettina is eager to discuss wedding plans.”

  Lark sensuously traced the rose across the bridge of her nose and then her mouth. “Bettina isn’t my fiancée any longer. I’ve called off our wedding, because I can’t marry her when I love you.”

  “Don’t you dare trifle with me, Lark! Not again!” Marlee rose to her feet, nearly knocking him down in her haste to get away. How could he tease her like this again? Did he possess no decency? She got no further than one foot away before Lark imprisoned her in his heated embrace and they toppled in the sand. “Leave me alone, let me be,” Marlee pleaded, so close to tears that her eyes burned.

  “I’m telling you the truth, Marlee. I’ve told Bettina that I won’t marry her. I love you, my darling, only you.” He captured her face between his hands so she was forced to look at him. Her heart beat so hard that she didn’t hear the ocean’s swelling crescendo. Was Lark telling her the truth? Could she finally believe he loved her?

  His kiss told her she could.

  It was a bewitching kiss, passionate yet gentle. Marlee found herself trembling and clinging to him, unable to stem the mounting desire which flowed through every artery and nerve in her body. “I love you, Marlee, say that you’ll marry me. Say it,” he pleaded and held her so tightly that she could barely draw breath.

  “I’ll marry you,” was her husky whisper and pure joy exploded within her for this was what she’d wanted for so long. Her arms went trustingly around his neck.

  Lark groaned. “Ah, I want to make love to you, now, Marlee, but not here on the beach. Maybe we should wait—”

  “No, no,” she protested and molded herself into him. “I want you, too, Lark. Isn’t there someplace we can go and be totally alone?”

  He stared at her, his eyes alive and dancing with wickedly bright flames. “I know just the place, a perfect place.” Lark lifted her to her feet and took her hand.

  They ran joyously down the beach, their footsteps sinking into the sand and blending together in spots. Five minutes or five hours might have passed because Marlee lost track of time when Lark halted before a rocky cove. Pulling her along with him, they followed a winding path of sparkling water that lazily meandered away from the aqua-colored ocean and beach to a secluded garden of oleander and hibiscus hedges.

  “How pretty this is!” Marlee exclaimed. “Where are we?”

  “This property belonged to my mother’s sister. She willed it to me, but I’ve never had any use for it—until now.” Lark grinned seductively at her and began a tantalizing exploration of her throat with his tongue.

  “Oh, Lark, what if someone sees us?” Marlee asked but her worry was tempered by her desire.

  “No one ever comes this way, my love,” he whispered. “We’re totally and completely alone.” His lips moved wantonly over her shoulders as he pushed the sleeves of her dress and chemise down her arms.

  “Isn’t this wicked to be out here like this, letting you undress me?”

  “Hmm, yes,” he said and his tongue slithered across the tops of her breasts, “very wicked.”

  “Lark?”

  “Yes, Marlee?”

  “I suppose I’m a wicked woman because I find I like this very much.”

  His lusty chuckle was lost in the valley of her breasts when he pulled her gown to her waist. The warm night air wafted over Marlee’s nakedness as she allowed Lark free rein to feast upon her nipples. A warm wetness filled the spot between her legs; she moaned with pleasure and anticipation the moment Lark’s fingers snaked up her thigh to stroke the pulsating bud of her femininity.

  Sheer ecstasy washed over her the second he touched her. She clung to him, her small cry of fulfillment filled the night. Her pleasure quickly gave way to embarrassment for he’d barely started before she’d finished. “Oh, forgive me, Lark,” she said, her voice sounded thick and husky. “I—never meant—”

  “I know,” he said and grinned wolfishly, “but I’m glad you respond so easily to me. I adore hearing your gasps of pleasure, to know you’re enjoying yourself.”

  Marlee smiled and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Can we undress now? I want to feel you against me—every part of you.”

  He nipped at her ear. “Any part in particular, my love?”

  “That’s a difficult question to answer,” she pondered with mock seriousness when he shrugged out of his shirt. “I suppose I shall have to thoroughly examine you and tell you my decision later.”

  “And what sort of examination do you have in mind?” Lark could barely speak he was so aroused.

  “You’ll need to remove your breeches. I must see all of you.”

  With a sure hand, Lark undid the buttons on his breeches and removed them, kicking them out of the way. He stood shamelessly naked before Marlee. The moonlight emphasized the broadness of his shoulders, the rippling muscles in hi
s upper arms that could expertly brandish a sword or tenderly hold a woman in his embrace. She found herself reaching out to trace her hands upon his fur-planed chest, reacquainting herself with the way his flesh tautly fit across the sinew and muscle. Lark was beautifully made.

  “Are you happy with me so far?” he asked through clenched teeth. He ached to throw Marlee on the ground and enter her velvet softness. His arousal was all too evident, and the wicked wench was biding her time, making him so hard that he literally hurt.

  “So far, so good. Now for the rest of you.”

  “Oh, God,” he groaned when her hands slid down each side of his buttocks and then his thighs.

  “You’re extremely—strong,” she whispered, the words dying in her throat. She knelt on the ground, her fingers following the lines of his powerful legs and ending at his calves. “And very hairy.”

  Lark looked down. The top of her head was visible in the moonlight and he could feel the wanton way her hands moved over him, massaging him and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He’d made love to many women in his life, but none of them had ever made him feel the way he did when he was with Marlee. He felt powerful and vulnerable at the same time and certain that he’d never love another woman as much as he loved her.

  “Have you finished with me yet? You seem to be taking your sweet time.”

  “Are you in a hurry, my lord?” She lifted her head and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m not through inspecting you. There’s one part I need to examine before I can give an unbiased opinion on which part of your anatomy I find most appealing.”

  “As you wish, madam,” was his husky response.

  A cloud skittered across the sky and blacked out the moon just then. Lark saw nothing in the darkness, but he felt her hands moving upward to his aroused manhood. Stiffening his stance, he dug his feet hard into the ground. He feared he’d fall when she touched him, that the very pressure of her fingertips could topple him to the earth like a landslide. Never before had he experienced such desire, this heavy ache within him that was pleasure and pain. And he knew now with certainty that he loved her beyond caring, beyond life. Without Marlee, he had no life.