Pirate's Bride (Liberty's Ladies)
Page 17
This was exactly what she did some two hours later.
Hawk stood looking at her from the doorway, but instead of inquiring further, he left the house. A sense of elation filled her. He wouldn’t treat her like a whore, she told herself, but she did feel a bit lost without him beside her in the soft feather bed. She also couldn’t help wondering where he’d gone, and if he’d spent the night alone.
Lulled by the sounds of the surf outside the window, she drifted off to sleep. She dreamed that she came to the door of a small house on the island. In her arms she carried Hawk’s child. When she knocked on the door, Hawk opened it, and a beautiful woman stood beside him. Through tears of shame, Bethlyn pleaded with him to do the right thing and marry her, but Hawk threw back his head and laughed unpleasantly. “Silly wench,” he told her. “You’re already married. Take yourself and the brat off to your husband.” Then he kissed the woman and slammed the door in her face.
With a start, Bethlyn woke to discover that tears streamed down her cheeks, and though she attempted to control herself, she couldn’t stop crying. Finally she managed to halt her tears and climbed out of bed, only to discover that her flux had started. She began to cry anew, feeling like a helpless, spoiled child, and berated herself for her silliness. Over and over she told herself that she should be relieved she wasn’t pregnant.
~
For the next few days Bethlyn contented herself in the kitchen. Each morning Mrs. Tolliver appeared with the necessary foodstuffs and instructed her how to bake breads, muffins, cook fish and soups. One evening she served Hawk a bowl of wine-berry soup and felt quite gratified when he asked for seconds.
One morning Mrs. Tolliver appeared with her grandson, a sturdy-looking boy of about twelve, named Nate. Nate watched attentively while his grandmother instructed Bethlyn until he grew bored and sauntered onto the beach.
Mrs. Tolliver shook her head in dismay. “That Nate is a problem child, I tell you. My husband and I don’t know what to do about him since his parents died. My son was his father, you know. He and my daughter-in-law were killed in a sailing accident two years ago.” Her eyes misted over with tears for a moment “Nate is all we have left of them, but he wants to go to sea, and I fear one day he will. He’s much too young to think of such a thing, and with the unrest on the seas right now, I hate to dwell on what might happen to him if he decides to take off on his own in a year or so.”
Having seen the outside world, Bethlyn realized that Nate probably hungered for more than this tiny island. She didn’t blame him in that respect. The island, she found, was quite nice, or that portion of what she’d seen of it. However, she knew a larger and more exciting world awaited Nate than Windhaven. Yet she also knew how important a family could be to a growing youngster, never having had the opportunity to win her father’s love and admiration.
“Does Nate have any chores to occupy himself?” Bethlyn asked,
Mrs. Tolliver nodded, but added, “Only the usual things. He helps my husband catch cod and mackerel, but he stays at home when Jack brings the catch to Philadelphia.”
A warning bell sounded in Bethlyn’s head. “How far is Windhaven from Philadelphia?” she asked offhandedly while she pared a potato, hoping that Mrs. Tolliver didn’t hear the anticipation in her voice.
“Hmm, I’m not certain. It takes Jack only three days to take the catch to the market there and return home. Windhaven is quite near the Delaware and New Jersey shorelines, so Jack sails up the Delaware River.”
This geographical information meant very little to Bethlyn, who was unschooled in the area, but she did guess that Philadelphia was about a day’s sail from the island. She stored all she’d heard in the back of her mind, keeping it for future use.
“Perhaps Nate might like to accompany his grandfather on his trips to the city. I’ve heard Philadelphia is an exciting place and might allay his wanderlust.”
“Yes, Beth, you might be right. I’ll speak to Jack about taking Nate with him on his next trip.”
Mrs. Tolliver smiled warmly at Bethlyn, and she smiled back. Perhaps she’d get away from Hawk and Windhaven yet, she found herself thinking. Then Mrs. Tolliver kindly invited Bethlyn and Hawk to supper that night, and Bethlyn found she couldn’t refuse the woman’s polite invitation. However, she wasn’t certain Hawk would be there since he hadn’t slept at home the last few days. Later, after Mrs. Tolliver had left, she finished baking a batch of cookies and called to Nate, who waited on the beach.
Eagerly he munched on two cookies at once when Bethlyn offered them to him. She sat beside him on the beach and delighted in the warm sun on her face and the incredible blue of the sky. Windhaven was a place of enchantment, but to her it seemed a prison.
“Do you have a boat?” Bethlyn asked Nate.
Nate shook his head. “Naw, but my grandpa does.”
“Is it a large boat?”
“Sort of.”
“Your grandmother told me that he usually goes to Philadelphia to sell his catch. How often does he go?”
Nate considered for a moment. “Two more weeks, I think. He came back a few days ago, and he goes about twice a month. Why are you so interested?” He reached for another cookie on the plate which rested on the sand between them.
“Just curious about everyone on the island,” Bethlyn told him and changed the subject to the beautiful weather. She doubted the child would become curious as to why she pumped him for information, but she didn’t want to take the chance that he might very well mention to Hawk or someone else about her interest in his grandfather’s schedule and boat.
Two more weeks before Mr. Tolliver left for Philadelphia. She hated herself for making friends with Nate only to use him later, but her hands perspired in anticipation of escaping Hawk.
~
That same afternoon Nate escorted her to the Village.
Bethlyn found the village of Windhaven to be quite small. About fifteen wooden houses dotted the landscape, and huge sand dunes rose like pyramids in the distance. Small boats bobbed by a dock and Nate introduced her to one of the fishermen who sat on his boat as his grandfather. Jack Tolliver was as friendly and kind as his wife, and he regaled her and Nate with tales of the sea for an hour. Bethlyn listened with interest, but her eyes rested covetously on the boat. Two more weeks, two more weeks, her mind repeated over and over.
Her ears perked up at the man’s mention of Hawk, and she gave her full attention to Mr. Tolliver. “Should be a grand party, I hear,” he said. “Everyone likes Mr. Hawk.”
She’d missed something. “What party is that, Mr. Tolliver?”
“Why, your wedding party, missus.” Jack Tolliver clamped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, it was to be a surprise. My Tansy’s been planning it for days now. Don’t say a word to her about me telling you. Promise me? She’d be awful upset that I let the cat out of the bag. And you, too, young Nate. Don’t you be telling your grandma how I can’t keep me mouth closed.”
Both of them promised to keep the party a secret, but Bethlyn felt a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach. A wedding party. Good God!
That evening Hawk returned. Upon entering the house, he nodded at her, his arms loaded down with clothes she recognized as her own.
“I thought you might need your dresses,” he told her and smiled, a tone of apology in his voice. “I slept on the Black Falcon the last few nights and realized you didn’t have a change of clothes when I saw your things in the cabin.”
“That was kind of you,” Bethlyn said, and took the clothes from Hawk. It seemed that the moment he stepped into the house, she grew alert and unable to tear her gaze from his. She hadn’t seen him in a few days, and Hawk seemed to have grown more handsome if that was possible. She hadn’t realized until this moment how lonely she’d been without him, having accustomed herself to falling asleep in his strong arms each night. Worst of all, a sense of jealousy ate away at her and she couldn’t stop herself from asking her next question. “Did you sleep alone?”
“I am not! I only wondered … Oh, never mind!”
She started to flounce away, hating the way this man could rankle her and cause her not to think straight. Hawk, however, grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. His voice sounded low and husky when he said, “I like you to be jealous.”
For a moment his eyes darkened to a deep forest green, and she waited for the inevitable kiss. In fact, she moistened her lips in anticipation of one, but Hawk only released her arm and smiled. “I understand Mrs. Tolliver is giving us a party tonight.”
For a few seconds she felt like the worst fool, hated the way her face blazed like a furnace, but she took a deep breath and pretended she’d never longed for his kiss. “How do you know about the party? I thought it was going to be a surprise.”
“Everyone on the island knows about it. No one can keep a secret for long here. The party is one of the reasons I brought you the clothes. I want you to look your best tonight.” He reached out and fingered a green gown with beige lace on the elbow-length sleeves and low neckline. “Wear this one. The color brings out the gold of your hair.”
“I presume you’re aware that this party is in honor of our marriage.”
“Yes. “
“Hawk, we’re not married. The men on your ship know we were never married. This situation is humiliating to me. Mrs. Tolliver has been very kind to me. I can’t deceive her into believing something which isn’t true.”
“Why? You deceived me into thinking you were a prostitute and denied being a spy for the Crown. How am I supposed to believe you? I advise you to get dressed, and don’t dawdle. What other people think isn’t my concern, but you are — that is, until I decide what to do with you.”
“You can be a very hard man.”
“True,” he agreed, nonplussed by the coldness of her tone.
Bethlyn saw she was getting nowhere with Hawk. She wanted to experience his warmth, the caring he’d shown her before she’d removed his mask. Apparently, he felt free to walk about Windhaven without the mask’s protection, knowing that the people on the island were loyal to him. It seemed that the only person he didn’t trust was her. For a second she almost blurted out again that she wasn’t a spy and wouldn’t turn him in, but she didn’t. Once more, it appeared they were at an impasse, and she refused to humble herself to him by declaring her innocence. She did have some pride.
Saying nothing further, Bethlyn started up the stairs, but heard him say, “I want you to know I slept alone.” Her heart soared at his words, but she said nothing to him, feeling a bit triumphant that he hadn’t found the need to seek out another woman. Still, their situation was intolerable to her, and she cursed under her breath at her own folly to think Hawk cared about her.
~
When Bethlyn and Hawk arrived at the Tolliver’s small wooden house half an hour later, they found the party had started without them. Strange faces, people Bethlyn had never seen, smiled or peered intently at her when Tansy Tolliver made the introductions. Bethlyn fought not to grimace when Tansy introduced her as “Mrs. Hawk.” Catching a quick glimpse of Hawk’s face, she noticed a glint of amused delight in his eyes, almost as if he enjoyed her humiliation. She wondered how many of the men who now watched her were members of Hawk’s crew and thought her to be a whore. Despite the warmth of the evening air, Bethlyn shivered and silently vowed that in two weeks time she’d escape to Philadelphia. She doubted the arrogant Captain Hawk would be smiling then!
The party spilled out of the house and onto the moon-drenched beach. A fire had been lit earlier, and islanders sat in easy companionship while the children rushed hither and yon with small buckets in their hands and dug for clams in the soft, cool sand.
A sweet-tasting ale was offered to Bethlyn by a gracious Jack Tolliver, and everyone stood to toast the bride and groom. This was the hardest moment of Bethlyn’ s life. She stood stiffly by Hawk’s side and mouthed an acknowledgment to the toast, the whole time bristling with indignation that Hawk thought nothing of duping these people, and worst of all, he appeared relaxed and nonchalant.
However, by the time Bethlyn had imbibed three more cups of the delicious brew, she barely realized she leaned her head against Hawk’s broad shoulder and listened in rapt appreciation to a lovely melody one of the men played on a harmonica. A wonderful lethargy stole across her, allowing her to forget how much she should hate Hawk. Instead, she found a comfortable place within the crook of his arm and closed her eyes, delighting in the caressing breeze upon her cheeks.
Finally a soft butterfly kiss landed on her lips and, opening her eyes, she saw Hawk’s dark face. “Time to go home, sleepyhead.”
She nodded and allowed him to help her up from the sand, and they bade everyone a good night. Tansy and Jack Tolliver hugged her and wished them well with their marriage. Guilt washed over Bethlyn to think that she was going to use these kind people, take advantage of their friendship, for her own end. As she and Hawk sauntered leisurely along the beach on the return trip to the house, she mulled over the events of the last few weeks, but her brain was so fuzzy from the ale and her step rather uncertain that she found she didn’t want to dwell upon her future escape. If not for Hawk’s arm, secure about her waist, she would have fallen at one point.
“I can tell you’re not much of a drinker.”
“I never acquired the taste for alcohol,” she admitted, “but Mr. Tolliver’s concoction was quite tasty. I wonder if Mrs. Tolliver might give me the recipe.”
“You have become a domestic little mouse.”
Bethlyn started to take offense, but his tone was light and bantering. “There’s nothing else for me to do here but keep house and cook.”
“Perhaps it’s time to find another way to spend your time, Beth.” Hawk stopped walking, and with the moonlight spilling across his darkly handsome face, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She moaned at the desire which erupted within her. It had been so long since Hawk had held her like this or kissed her in this way that no matter their differences, she found she wanted him to make love to her. In fact, she ached for his possession and her complete surrender to him.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Bethlyn arched against him, delighting when their tongues met in a riotous assault upon her senses. She was lost and didn’t care.
“Easy, sweetheart. We still have a distance to walk to the house. Kiss me like that again, and I might be tempted to love you right here on the beach.”
“Please do,” she murmured, overwhelmed by passion’s flames which seemed to scorch her insides. “I can’t wait that long for you, Hawk. I want you now.” Her hand made contact with the obvious bulge in his trousers. She smiled up at him. “You can’t wait, either.”
Hawk groaned into her hair, and suddenly he scooped her up into his arms and walked the short distance from the shoreline and crossed a sand dune. On the other side of the dune, Bethlyn couldn’t see the ocean, but she heard its gentle roar. At least she thought it was the ocean she heard. It might have been the rapid beating of her heart. But the dune protected them from view, and this was all Bethlyn cared about at the moment.
She still felt deliciously groggy from the ale and she leaned into Hawk, her hands pulling his head down to her mouth. She kissed him with such fervor that she caused them both to fall to their knees. The sand cushioned the fall, and she found herself laughing as their arms and legs became helplessly entwined.
“I think I like this,” she said.
“I know I like this.” That was Hawk’s comment, and she shivered, knowing that she’d like to see much more of him. With trembling fingers, she began to take off his shirt until he took the lead and pulled the soft linen shirt over his head to reveal his well-muscled chest to her. Bethlyn buried her face within the springy cushion of chest hair and kissed him. Her hands massaged the hard pectoral wall.
“I adore how yo
u look,” she told him, a husky catch in her voice.
“Even without the mask?”
“Hmm, that’s a hard question to answer,” she teased, and giggled to see him glower. No man could possibly be more handsome than Hawk, she thought. But when she helped him pull off his trousers and held his stiff member in the curl of her palm, she said, “I know I adore this.” And she wasn’t teasing.
“Taunting vixen. Let’s see how well you take sweet torture.”
Hawk started to pull at the lacings on the bodice of the green gown, but Bethlyn stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest. She had a captive audience when she gently began to untie the lacings on the front of the gown. Like a seasoned temptress she slowly undid each one until her breasts strained to be free. As she did this she watched the play of passion upon Hawk’s face and saw his eyes turn a smoky green. This is how she’d imagined he’d looked at her all those nights he wore the mask. She had ached to see the desire on his handsome face for her, and now she did. Delightful shivers shook her when he’d had enough of her teasing and pulled the bodice apart to allow her breasts to spill into his hands.
Lifting them to his lips, he took the tip of one into his mouth and gently circled the tempting peak with his tongue. Then he worked the same magic on Bethlyn’s other nipple. Moans of ecstasy spilled forth from Bethlyn; but she wanted him to suckle her more deeply, and the way she arched toward him indicated her desire. Hawk opened his mouth wide and freely laved one breast and then the other, driving Bethlyn wild with need.
His hand found its way under the material of her gown and snaked upward to the throbbing peak of her womanhood. He touched her and she heard him mumble, “So warm, so wet.”
Bethlyn was more than ready for Hawk. A part of her wondered if he intended to torture her endlessly with his lips, his fingers as they stroked her and filled her.
“Undress me, Hawk. I can’t … stand any more.” Her voice sounded thick.