Pirate's Bride (Liberty's Ladies)

by Lynette Vinet

  Apparently Hawk couldn’t take any more either when her hand flew to his aroused manhood. With a surprisingly steady hand, Hawk ripped the bodice from her and pulled her skirt off. He laid her clothes on the sand, then pulled her on top of them. He straddled her and, instinctively, Bethlyn wrapped her silken legs around his back. For a second she felt his warm, pulsating shaft against her thigh before he plunged into her moist softness, taking the breath from her.

  Hawk’s hands tangled in the honeyed depths of her hair. Her body arched upward to his, following his rhythm to the age old tune of love.

  “Beth, Beth, I love to feel myself inside you. I … love…” His voice drifted away. She could barely hear him with the sound of the surf, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Nothing mattered at this moment but the incredible pleasure, so intoxicating with its sweetness that when their bodies crested in a climax, Bethlyn and Hawk cried out their ecstasy in unison.

  Hawk kissed her and his lips tasted tears. “Why are you crying?” he gently asked and wrapped her in his embrace.

  Some seconds passed before Bethlyn was able to speak. “It’s so incredibly wonderful, Hawk. Nothing ever can feel as wonderful as when we make love.”

  “Yes, Beth, lovemaking is wonderful.”

  She couldn’t help but to bite her lower lip to keep from crying anew. His statement sounded so generalized to her ears. Bethlyn had meant that their lovemaking was special and sometimes it seemed as if they had been destined for each other. Evidently, since Hawk was a worldly man who no doubt had loved many women, he didn’t see her as special. A feeling of dread rose within her to wonder how long he’d keep her on Windhaven before he was finished with her. She’d feel like a discarded pair of boots when that day came. She must guard her heart or lose it entirely. She could play the same game as Hawk. As long as she was on the island she’d find rapture in Hawk’s lovemaking, but when the day dawned to escape, she’d leave and never look back.

  However, when Hawk kissed her again and she opened her legs to him willingly and without reserve, her mind didn’t dwell on her departure and the world which awaited her away from Windhaven.

  At the moment, Hawk was her world.

  12

  The longer Bethlyn stayed with Hawk, the harder it would be for her when she left him. During the week following the party, Hawk barely left her side. Their mornings and nights were filled with unbridled passion, and in the afternoons they walked the beach and played in the ocean. Bethlyn’s fair complexion turned a becoming shade of peach and her hair’s natural highlights gleamed, courtesy of the sun. Never in her entire life had she been this happy, this contented. Being with Hawk added a dimension to her life she’d never dreamed existed. During the long stretch of lazy days, she forgot she ever dreamed of escaping him and didn’t think about the future.

  However, her idyllic existence dissolved one rainy afternoon. She and Hawk had finished making love when a loud knock at the door startled them. Hawk dressed quickly and went downstairs. As she pulled on her gown she heard Crane’s voice, and Bethlyn’s heart jumped with joy. Perhaps Mavis was with him!

  Running headlong down the stairs, she suddenly stopped short. Crane stood, maskless, in the parlor, and for the first time Bethlyn got a good look at his face. Crane was as fair as Hawk was dark, and almost as handsome. She could see why Mavis had fallen in love with this privateer. If she would be honest with herself, she’d admit to Hawk that she loved him, and at that moment she vowed she eventually would. But she wanted Hawk to love her, too. However, Hawk turned and glared at her when she entered the room.

  “Hawk, what’s the matter?” she asked, and gingerly moved towards him.

  “You’re the matter.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He distractedly raked his dark hair with a bronzed hand then told Crane he’d meet him at the ship within the hour. “Let me make this clear to you, Beth,” he said after Crane had left and Bethlyn noticed that he seemed to be having a hard time controlling himself. “While I’ve been forced to hide away on this island, purposely to baby-sit you and keep you in line, Crane arrives and tells me that an American frigate was destroyed by the British and all hands who survived the attack were taken prisoner.”

  “I’m sorry,” she broke in.

  “Are you?” His voice sounded harsh, quite unlike the ardent lover who’d taken her to paradise only minutes ago.

  “I hate for anyone to be killed or imprisoned.” Bethlyn felt bewilderment. “Why are you angry with me?”

  Hawk pulled her against him, his fingers curling around her upper arm and digging into her flesh. “Because I believe you might be a better spy than I thought. At first, I wondered about the reason you pretended to be a doxy, a reason you’ve never answered, because God knows no doxy is a virgin. Then your clothes for instance. Granted, your gowns are rather plain, but they’re made from the finest materials. I don’t know how you came upon them, if you stole them or what, or…” Here he broke off and fingered the unadorned bodice of her yellow gown before tapping her lips with his index finger. “If someone financed your venture in the hope that my ship might happen to come into contact with Nightingale. You’ve been less than honest with me, Beth, and I can’t help but wonder if you purposely used your innocence to seduce me and pulled off my mask in the hope that I’d be forced to bring you here, that I would have to take charge of you personally. I’d be out of the way for a while, and the seas would be free of the Black Falcon while the British did their dirty work.”

  Bethlyn’s mouth fell open, and it was some seconds before she could even speak. “You’re wrong. I never…”

  “Quiet! I’m through with your lies.” Dropping his hold on her, he reached for a frighteningly long pistol which rested on the table beside a piece of parchment and placed it in the waistband of his trousers. Then he grabbed the parchment and began folding it into fourths before tearing it into pieces and allowing them to fall to the floor. He speared her with his gaze. “This is correspondence from General Washington. He advises to beware of a very beautiful enemy spy who gives the impression of being an innocent, but in reality she is one of the most capable British spies. No one knows her name. However, she is a well-trained actress, proficient with disguises. Thus, she is quite difficult to catch.” Hawk smiled, but his eyes held frosty condemnation. “I believe I have easily accomplished such a feat.”

  Shaking her head in numb disbelief, Bethlyn reached for him. “You’re wrong, Hawk! I’m not a spy.”

  “Then why were you on Nightingale?”

  “I … can’t tell you that.”

  “I didn’t think you would.” Shrugging off her hand, he went to the window and called to Sparrow who waited on the beach. “Sparrow, take care of this young lady while I’m gone. In fact, guard her every hour of each day. I don’t want her taking it into her head to escape.”

  Bethlyn heard Sparrow’s “Aye, aye, Captain,” and she watched in disbelief as Hawk moved menacingly toward her and pulled her against him.

  With a groan, he swooped down like the bird of prey he emulated and greedily kissed her. She pushed against him, unable to breathe, barely able to think. She only knew that he wanted to humiliate her for something she hadn’t done. “Stop it!” she ground out from between clenched teeth. “You won’t treat me like a whore!”

  Suddenly he laughed, a very harsh and grating sound to her ears, and pushed her away from him. “I treat you like a whore, because that is exactly what you are, sweetheart. You’re my whore. Hawk’s whore.”

  She actually winced, and he laughed again before leaving her trembling figure in the center of the room.

  ~

  Within the hour all of Hawk’s men assembled on the Black Falcon. Soon the ship slipped from its hideout and once again took to the sea. Hawk stood on deck without his mask, but he knew that as soon as the English warship, Jersey, was sighted, he’d once more don his disguise. The truth of the matter was that he’d grown weary of being Captain Hawk. The last f
ew days with Beth had been some of the best of his life, and now he felt lonely and empty without her beside him. Gritting his teeth, he placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the horizon. He didn’t want to think about the deceitful little tart but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  Beth stayed on his mind constantly. What was he going to do with her? he asked himself for the twentieth time. He hated turning her over to the Americans. She’d be hung as a spy, and he couldn’t bear the image of her beautiful, swanlike neck dangling from a rope. His only alternative was to keep her sequestered on Windhaven, but how long could he expect her to stay? How long did he want her to stay now that he was almost certain she was the spy mentioned in Washington’s correspondence? He hated to think that his beautiful honey-haired Beth had deceived him.

  Hawk had almost begun to believe her denials, and he found himself unwillingly drawn to her, hoping that somehow things would work out between them. But he was an American privateer and she might be a British spy. What hope of a life could they share under such circumstances?

  Perspiration broke out upon his forehead at such a foolhardy thought. Share a life? What was wrong with him? He’d never loved any woman, and now here he was entertaining thoughts of spending the rest of his life with a woman who’d sooner turn him over to the king’s men. Perhaps when he finished this mission, when he rescued the impressed American seamen from the British frigate Jersey, he’d return home for a while. Maybe he needed a change.

  “Hawk.”

  Hawk turned at Crane’s voice. “The storm is over,” Hawk said, silently noting that the gray clouds skittered away and a pale shade of blue lightened the sky. “Smooth sailing ahead.”

  Crane agreed, but he looked far from agreeable. “We have a real problem with … Beth.”

  “Probably she’s the spy Washington mentioned.”

  “I don’t know. I only know that if we’d been patrolling the ocean, we might not have lost one of our ships. Captain Kelley was a friend of mine, and now he’s dead. I feel awful about all of this.”

  Hawk felt awful, too. “I’m heading for Philadelphia after we capture Jersey.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Crane agreed. “I hated leaving Mavis alone.”

  “How is Mavis?”

  Crane blushed. “We were married two days ago.” Hawk didn’t know whether to be happy or sad for his friend. Mavis was an Englishwoman, but he remembered that she seemed to adore Crane. He wished them every happiness, but he felt far from happy himself.

  “Business as usual when we get to Philadelphia?” Crane asked.

  Hawk nodded. “Aye, but a sideline for pleasure, I think, with a fetching widow.”

  Crane grinned and watched Hawk’s back as the man walked toward the quarterdeck. He suppressed a sigh, wondering if he’d ever be able to tell him what he knew about Bethlyn Briston. He doubted it. Though Crane had Mavis’s word that Bethlyn wasn’t a spy, Crane couldn’t be certain of that fact. Mavis was her servant, and servants were not always privy to the aristocracy’s secrets, no matter how close. He wondered why after all of these years would the silly chit decide to cross the Atlantic and claim a wayward spouse. Crane figured it would be better not to tell Hawk the truth and to keep Bethlyn on Windhaven for Hawk’s safety as well as her own. Somehow Hawk would learn the truth about Bethlyn in his own good time.

  Contenting himself with the knowledge that things were well as they stood, Crane joined Hawk in his vigil for Jersey.

  ~

  Sparrow barely left Bethlyn’s side. She had hoped that after a few days he’d end his watchdog tactics, but she was wrong. The man’s loyalties belonged to Hawk, and though he might be a kind and friendly man, she soon realized that he’d never disobey his captain. So much for her plan to try to escape. She never had a moment alone with Nate, because Sparrow was always within hearing distance. She had hoped that she could somehow speak to Nate alone, to persuade him to help her hide on Mr. Tolliver’s boat. But two more days were left until Mr. Tolliver sailed for Philadelphia, and so far, she didn’t know how to shake Sparrow’s shadow.

  On the morning before Mr. Tolliver’s departure, Tansy Tolliver paid Bethlyn an unexpected visit. She arrived with a large straw basket under her arm which contained jars of preserves and herbs.

  Tansy handed Bethlyn one of the jars. “If I do say so, I make the most delicious preserves from wild strawberries which grow on the island. Perhaps one day you can come pick some with me, when the berries are in season again.”

  “I’d like that.” Bethlyn graciously took the jar, feeling guilty because she hoped she wouldn’t be around when the next crop of berries bloomed and all too aware of Sparrow as he sat on the beach outside of the house.

  Tansy’s gaze followed Bethlyn’s. “Mr. Sparrow is a nice gentleman.”

  Bethlyn agreed that he was, but said nothing else and the two women sat on chairs by the kitchen table. Finally Tansy broke the silence. “I can help you escape.”

  Bethlyn blinked in astonishment. “What do you mean?” She felt as if she couldn’t breathe because of the hope rising in her chest.

  Tansy patted Bethlyn’s hand which rested on the table. “I’m quite fond of Mr. Hawk, but I’m not blind, my dear. Or deaf. I’ve heard some things about … your relationship with Mr. Hawk.”

  “More likely that I’m not Mrs. Hawk,” Bethlyn said bitingly.

  “I don’t judge you or what is in your heart for the man. But for some reason he has made you into a prisoner, with Sparrow’s help. Or perhaps I’m wrong.” Tansy leaned back and surveyed Bethlyn, who quickly nodded her head.

  “You aren’t wrong, Tansy. Hawk believes I’m guilty of something I didn’t do. I need to get to Philadelphia as soon as possible. Can you help me? I’d be ever so much in your debt.”

  “I don’t want you to feel that you’re in my debt, child, but I do want to help you. Sometimes men can be such fools.” Tansy smiled and looked quite young despite her sixty years. “Jack leaves tomorrow for Philadelphia. I know I can persuade him to take you on the boat. Nate’s going along, too, and he’s so excited and pleased that you’re the one who suggested Jack take him on the next trip that he’ll never breathe a word to Hawk or anyone about how you left the island. Of course, Hawk isn’t a stupid man and will probably realize it was Jack, but once you’re gone, you’re gone. The deed is done.”

  Bethlyn smiled and embraced Tansy. “I will never be able to repay you for this. Thank you so much.”

  “That’s quite all right, dear, but we may have a problem with Mr. Sparrow.”

  Bethlyn’s hopes plummeted for the moment. She’d forgotten about him, already mentally sailing away from Windhaven. Sparrow was as tenacious as a bulldog. Tansy, however, smiled in reassurance. “You leave all to me. I know how to get Mr. Sparrow’s mind off you for a while. I’ve never known him yet to turn down my elderberry wine, and with a smidgen of sleeping powder in it, I think Mr. Sparrow won’t notice for a number of hours that you’ve left.”

  ~

  “Aw, Tansy, I don’t feel right about this,” Jack Tolliver told his wife, who waved farewell to him from the dock. “It ain’t right to interfere in another man’s business.”

  “Get on with you now, Jack, and be quiet.” Tansy’s bright smile could be seen as the boat skimmed away, and she called to Bethlyn, “Have a fine life, dear. And you, Nate, stop bobbing around and sit down or you’ll be swimming to Philadelphia.”

  “Aye, aye, Grandma.” Nate made a mock salute and sat obediently beside Bethlyn.

  Jack heaved a sigh, causing Bethlyn to feel more than guilty. She watched as he maneuvered the boat away from the island and listened to Nate’s happy chirping for the rest of the morning. By noon, she wondered if Sparrow had wakened yet from the effects of Tansy’s elderberry wine, and again she felt a sense of guilt. But she buried the feeling, deciding that she was right to escape Hawk. The man had had no business accusing her of being a spy, of keeping her a prisoner. As much as she craved the hateful man’s
hands on her and knew her wanton heart would belong to him always, she had to escape. No future awaited her with Hawk.

  A pleasant breeze scurried the boat along, and by nightfall Jack spoke kindly to her, apparently realizing that he must make the best of the situation. They stopped by a small grassy bank somewhere on the Delaware River near a settlement which Jack told her had been founded by Swedes over a hundred years ago. Here they opened a basket packed by Tansy, filled with smoked salmon, topped off by biscuits and sweet-tasting strawberry jam. Then they fell asleep to the gentle sway of the river beneath them.

  Before dawn the next morning, they were off again, the water fanned by a gentle breeze from the east. It was nearly noon when the day turned very warm and the bright blue sky disappeared behind large, purple-black clouds.

  “Damn!” groaned Jack. “We’re gonna be wetter than three mackerel in this downpour. I was hoping to make Philadelphia early this afternoon.”

  Jack’s prophecy proved true. Large drops of rain pummeled the boat and the occupants. Bethlyn and Nate took refuge beneath a large blanket while Jack made certain the boat stayed on course. The rainstorm turned out to be short in duration, but when it was over, the blanket lay in a sodden heap in a corner of the boat. Bethlyn, Nate, and Jack didn’t look much better.

  Bethlyn’s hair lay plastered to her head and water dripped down her face. The green gown with the beige lace, the one she thought was her prettiest, now lay wetly against her skin. Two of her gowns, which she had packed within some brown paper and tied with a string, were now equally as wet. The silk shoes on her feet, green to match her gown, bore large water stains. Bethlyn doubted the shoes would last much longer, the fragile things having been made purposely for sweeping turns around a dance floor. Pushing her drooping strands of hair away from her face, she sighed and wished that Hawk had brought all of her shoes from the ship instead of only one pair. But if she must make do in her wet gown and shoes, she would, though she had anticipated making a grand and elegant entrance into the offices of Briston Shipping. Yet it didn’t matter any longer how she looked when her husband saw her again. Most certainly she didn’t wish to stay married to him, not after having belonged to Hawk.