She clutched her hands tightly together and watched as The Raven's powerful forward thrust caught De Fores in the forearm and laid the flesh open. The Frenchman went down on his knees, begging for mercy. When Season saw The Raven raise his sword, she turned quickly away, not wanting to witness De Fores' cowardice or his death.
Clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry, she at last allowed James to lead her below. Her legs felt so weak she was sure she would never make it down the companionway, but the horrible sounds of battle followed her to the captain's quarters. Season lay on the bed and buried her head under a pillow, hoping to drown out the sounds of the dying. She felt it was her fault that men would die this day. If she had not enlisted De Fores' help to get away from The Raven, none of this would have taken place.
"If you are all right, ma'am, I'll just go topside," James said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.
Season was too sick to answer. Tears stung her eyes, and she felt as if this were the end of the world. Soon the battle would be over and when The Raven would come to her—she did not doubt that he would be the winner—she would have to tell him it was her fault that so many men had died. She thought about Maude's death and felt worse than ever.
The fight aboard the Blue Dolphin ended as soon as her crew realized their captain was dead. The Raven's men stripped the burning ship of her valuables, and put her crew to sea in longboats, giving them enough food and water to see them safely back to Tripoli.
The grappling irons were removed and the Andromeda sailed a short distance away and aimed her guns at the dead Frenchman's crippled vessel, which took three direct hits and quickly sank, taking her dead captain to the bottom of the sea with her. The only evidence that the Blue Dolphin had existed was the yellow sulfur cloud that hovered over the water where she had sunk.
Season had been so exhausted she had fallen asleep. When she awoke, she could tell they were under sail by the gentle swaying of the ship. The cabin was in total darkness, and she sat up, thinking how wonderful it was to be free!
She moved off the bed and groped her way toward the desk where she knew she would find the lantern. When light filled the cabin, she looked about her as if she had come home. How fresh and clean the quarters were. Tears of hopelessness washed down her cheeks.
How foolish she had been to think she could ever escape The Raven. He would have gone to the ends of the earth to get her back, and she knew now that she didn't ever want to be parted from him again. As surely as she lived and breathed, she belonged to him heart and soul. Probably he would soon tire of her and set her free, but until that time she would relish his nearness and what little affection he showed her.
Season saw the tub of fresh water that awaited her, and she silently blessed Briggs for looking after her comfort. Opening the trunk, Season removed her white nightgown and laid it across the foot of the bed. Undressing, she lowered herself into the tub and almost groaned when the soothing water caressed her battered and bruised body. She lathered her hair with the sweet-smelling soap and leaned back, closing her eyes and enjoying the cool cleansing water. At last she rinsed her hair and washed the blood from her face. Then she scrubbed every part of her body that De Fores had touched. She wasn't sorry he was dead. The world is a far better place without men like him, she thought. Indeed, she doubted that anyone would mourn his passing.
At last feeling clean, she stepped out of the tub, dried herself thoroughly, and slipped into her nightgown. She then climbed into the middle of the bed and began to brush the tangles from her golden hair.
She sat there a long time, not thinking or feeling anything, just overjoyed to be alive. When she began to feel hungry, she climbed off the bed and made her way to the cabin door. Turning the handle, she found it to be locked as she had known it would be.
Season was in the process of returning to the bed when she heard a sound at the door. Turning, she came face to face with The Raven!
He just stood there, staring at her through the slits in his helm, and she could sense his anger. Season wanted to run and throw herself into his arms, but she didn't think he would welcome such a gesture at the moment.
She noticed for the first time that he was carrying a tray of food when he motioned that she should be seated. He kicked the door shut and followed her across the room. When she was settled on the bed, he placed the tray on her lap.
"Have you taken on Briggs's chores?" she asked, unable to think of anything else to say. She watched him closely and could feel his displeasure. She felt that she deserved his contempt. He had every right to be angry with her.
He said nothing, merely sat down on a chair and continued to stare at her. Season's throat became dry, and she nervously clasped and unclasped her hands. It was most unsettling to be observed so closely by someone at whom you couldn't stare back. She realized how The Raven's enemies must feel when they were on the receiving end of his anger.
Season could not stand the silence. "I have observed that when you go into battle, you wear the leather helm, Raven. On all other occasions you use the soft leather hood."
He didn't answer, just sat and stared at her, but when she thought she could stand his scrutiny no longer, he spoke. "Just tell me one thing, Season, did you enlist De Fores' help at the tavern when I wasn't listening?"
"Y-yes."
"Are you aware that because of you two of my men are dead and three more may not last the night?"
Season's mouth flew open in horror. "I am so sorry, I never meant this to happen. I merely wanted to go back to my father."
"I warn you that in the future, Season, I will not tolerate disobedience, is that clear?"
Some of her old fire returned. "I am not a child. I have never had to obey anyone except my teachers and my father. What gives you the right to tell me what to do?"
"You are fortunate to be alive." His voice trailed off and he reached out to touch her bruised cheek, but she flinched at his soft touch.
"Damn De Fores," he swore. "He has hurt you. Your face is puffy and your lip is cut."
"It is nothing ... no more than a few bruises," she said, not knowing how to deal with this sudden shift to tenderness. She could feel a tenseness in him and knew instinctively that he was worried about more than a few bruises.
His finger tenderly touched her swollen lip. "Did he touch you in any other way?" It seemed as if he had to force himself to ask her the question that had been haunting him.
Season swallowed a lump that had come to her throat. "No, but he would have if you hadn't come when you did."
"Did you wish to be free of me so badly that you would enlist the help of someone like De Fores? Didn't you know what he would be like?"
Season shook her head. "I didn't think. All I knew was that I had to get away and he was the only one who seemed willing to help me."
He withdrew his hand. "I have come to realize how greatly you have suffered at my hands. I abducted you out of anger, but I kept you for a reason that, until now, I wouldn't even admit to myself. You were nothing more than an innocent young girl when I took you. I am in a repentant mood tonight, and you have my word that you will not have to suffer my presence any longer than is necessary."
"Are you taking me home?" she asked with a sinking heart. Where only days ago she had wanted only to escape from him, now she realized she would be heartbroken should he cast her aside.
"I regret to say I have pressing business in France or I would take you back now. Once my business is completed, we shall talk again."
"Are we now on our way to France?"
"Yes. Depending on the weather, we should be in France within two weeks' time.
The Raven stood up and stared down at her. "Will you ever find it within your heart to forgive me, Season?" he asked in a strange voice.
"I don't know," she said, tears sparkling in her green eyes. She was feeling very like the young girl he had earlier accused her of being. "Perhaps it is I who should ask your pardon. Because of me, Maude is dead. I know h
ow you felt about her."
"Do you, Season?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I doubt that you do, but set your mind at rest. Maude still lives."
Season felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled brightly. "I cannot believe I am saying this, but I liked Maude. I am glad she is alive so she can sail aboard her pirate ship and command her raids on unsuspecting merchant ships."
The Raven laughed deeply. "That she will. Maude will never allow anyone or anything to get her down." He turned abruptly and left without another word.
Season stared down at the tray of food in her lap, feeling dejected. The Raven didn't want her any longer. He was sending her away. She bit her trembling lip as her eyes filled with tears. What kind of life would she be going back to? How would she get through the years to come?
As the days swiftly passed, Season began to wish time would stand still. She knew once they reached France it would be only a matter of time until The Raven kept his word and allowed her to go free. She was in agony at the thought of never seeing him again. He never came near her anymore, and she missed him desperately. Sometimes she would see him when Briggs took her out for a stroll, but he never paid the slightest attention to her. Season began to wonder if somewhere there was a woman to whom he always returned. She couldn't help but wish she were that woman.
One day Briggs brought Captain Robert Wolf to the cabin and introduced him to Season who liked him immediately. He had sun-bleached blond hair and soft gray eyes. Although he walked with a slight limp, he assured Season that when the wound was healed he would be as good as new. The two of them soon became fast friends. Season found it easy to talk to Robert, and she liked his boyish charm. She learned that he was five years her senior and a privateer like The Raven. From a slip Robert made Season also learned that they were on the way to France to meet with an American naval officer called John Paul Jones.
Each day now, Season and Robert walked on deck in the bright sunlight, and she found that Robert often made her laugh. He was not only witty, he was charming, gentlemanly, and polite. Though he was loyal to the Colonies while her loyalties lay with England, they never spoke of their differences.
One evening as they walked on deck just at sunset, Season paused at the railing to watch the waves lapping at the side of the ship.
"Robert, what do you know about The Raven?"
He cocked his curly head and smiled at her. "More than most people and less than some."
"Which is no answer at all, except a polite way of telling me to mind my own affairs," she said, smiling.
"Call it the creed of the sea, loyalty among friends, or if you like ... I owe him my life."
"I know next to nothing about The Raven," she said, sighing. "Where does he come from? Does he have a family? What does he call home when he isn't at sea?"
"The only family I can tell you about is his uncle, a man named Silas Dunsberry. I can only tell you this because Silas is dead; therefore, no one would be able to trace The Raven through him. Few people knew that The Raven and Silas were related, and those who did, never discussed it."
Season searched Robert's face. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry. Her tear-filled eyes turned out to sea as she remembered why The Raven had come to her in anger on the night he had learned of Silas Dunsberry's death. The man who was to be exchanged for her but who had been executed instead had been The Raven's uncle!
"Was he very close to his uncle?" she managed to ask at last.
"Yes. They were very fond of one another, Season. It was a great blow to The Raven when he learned of his Uncle Silas' death."
Silence hung heavily between them until Robert spoke. "Have you ever been to France?" he asked in a lighter tone.
"No. I had done very little traveling until I sailed for the Colonies. I can speak French, however." Then Season, too, changed the subject. "Tell me, Robert, what will you do when you get back to America?"
He gazed out to sea. "The first thing I must do is report to Congress. The Raven and I agree that the pirate stronghold in the Barbary States must be wiped out. It has become a hazard to every seagoing vessel. The Raven doubts that Congress will have the time or the inclination to deal with the pirates at this time, but it's worth a try."
Season smiled. "How would you define the difference between a privateer and a pirate?"
"One of them fights for a cause and the other doesn't. Since you have met both kinds in The Raven and De Fores, I will leave you to judge which is which."
"I see what you mean," she said thoughtfully. "What will you do after you have made a report to your Congress, Robert?"
"Well, to be honest, I will pay a call on a young lady whom I haven't seen in a very long time. When I thought I was going to die, the thought of her black hair and soft brown eyes gave me the will to live. I didn't want to die until I told her how I felt about her. When I left home, she was much too young for me to declare my feelings to her. I pray she has not looked elsewhere for a husband while I have been at sea."
"Tell me about her."
Robert smiled. "Her hair is as black as a midnight sky, and her eyes defy description. I always called her funny face when she was small, but her face is anything but funny. I have known her since she took her first step, and I placed her on her first horse. I believe I have always loved her and have merely been waiting for her to grow up so I could declare myself to her."
Season touched Robert's hand. "You are so fortunate to know love, and the woman you love is fortunate also. Tell her about your feelings soon, Robert. I believe love is too precious to waste."
He clasped her hand and looked deeply into the depths of her green eyes. "Lady Season Chatsworth, you are the fairest of the fair. I believe I shall always envy the man you will one day marry."
She smiled brightly. "You don't mean that, and you know it. Your heart is already spoken for, by a young girl who has hair as dark as midnight. I will always hope that you find happiness, Robert."
"And I will hope that you, too, one day find your heart's desire, Season.
Season looked away from him and her eyes fell on the dark lord of the Andromeda. "I fear happiness and I are strangers, Robert. I fear it will always be so with me.
"Such a touching scene," The Raven rasped in his deep voice. "Have I interrupted a little tête-à-tête?"
Robert released Season's hand and stepped back a pace. "No. You saw nothing more than two good friends wishing each other well."
"How touching," The Raven said in a biting tone. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, Robert?"
Robert smiled at Season. "You may not be as much a stranger to what we were discussing as you think, my lady." He laughed and bowed slightly before moving away.
"I will not tolerate you flaunting yourself before other men, Season. I would have thought you had learned a lesson with De Fores. Dammit, don't you know all the men aboard this ship are half in love with you."
Season turned to him and tossed her hair as she always did when she was angry. He knew all her endearing habits by now. Her green eyes sparkled when she was angry. She clutched her hands when she was nervous. When she was frightened her green eyes opened wide, and when she was deeply moved by something, those same eyes flamed like green fire.
"I was not flaunting myself as you suggested. I like Robert; we are good friends."
His hand shot out and captured her chin. "Just how good a friend is Robert to you?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?"
She moved his hand away. "Don't judge Robert by your standards, Raven. He has always been kind and respectful, which is more than I can say for you."
He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was no more than a whisper. "You do wound me sorely, my lady."
"If I had been handed the chance De Fores was offered, I would have run you through," she said, stomping her foot in anger.
He laughed, and Season knew his good humor had returned. Taking he
r by the arm, he guided her down the companion way. "I have no doubt that had you been in De Fores' boots, you would have done just that," he said, obviously amused.
Season pulled her arm away and rushed ahead of him. When she reached the cabin door, she knew he was close behind her. As she entered the cabin, she expected him to follow her, but instead she heard the key grate in the lock. She was locked in, alone.
Season's anger abated after she stood in the middle of the cabin and allowed tears of helpless fury to wash down her cheeks. How much more of this torture could she take? she wondered. When would all this end?
When The Raven returned to the deck, he found Robert waiting for him. Removing his leather helm and tossing it aside, he glared at his friend.
"Weren't you a little rough on Lady Season, Raven?" Robert asked daringly.
"What I do with Season is no concern of yours. I will not have you making calf eyes at a woman who is under my protection. That goes for you or any other member of this ship," The Raven said, raising his voice so everyone within earshot could hear.
Robert raised his eyebrows. "You always were a hothead, but I have never before seen you make such a fool of yourself over a woman."
"And you were always a romantic and a fool, Robert. You are talking nonsense as always."
"I may be a fool, but I would guess you are in love with the lady and you are jealous of anyone who comes near her. Dammit, you are going to be hard to get along with for the rest of this voyage."
"You are crazed, Robert," The Raven said sourly.
"Am I? I don't think so. You had best put her from your mind, Raven. You must take her back to her people, you know."
"I will take her back when I decide to do so, Robert! You are getting to be as bad as Briggs, always hounding me about her. Dammit, I am the captain of this ship, and I'll give the orders around here."
Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) Page 21
