Pirate's Promise

by Smith, Bobbi

  As painful as it had been to let Lianne go the night before, Adam admitted to himself that it had been for the best. There could be no doubt after the scene last night that Lianne hated him completely, and that was good. If she hated him, she would make it a point to avoid him.

  Adam knew he'd done the right thing in leaving town with Beau. A few days at sea would help him get a better grip on his emotions, so he could follow through with what needed to be done . . . catching Shark. The memory of the pirate and the raid renewed his resolve to exact his revenge. Soon they would have him trapped and then it would be over—for everyone except Elise . . . Adam gripped the rail tightly, the dull ache of his despair clutching at his heart. Once his future had seemed so promising, and now, all his dreams had ended even before they'd had a chance to begin.

  Turning away from the sea, he started back across the deck to seek out Beau. It was best to keep constantly busy. There was less time to think that way.

  Chapter Fifteen

  David Williams leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desktop. In a bone-weary motion he rubbed the back of his neck and then rotated his broad shoulders to loosen the cramped muscles there. He was tired, so very tired. He had just spent hours going over his notes regarding his treatment of Elise Clayton, and still he could find no clue to the secret of unlocking her terror and freeing her from her mute existence.

  Usually a very patient man, David found himself growing more and more angry over his lack of success. Frustration gripped him, and he was beginning to suspect that he'd imagined that one moment of sanity he'd seen reflected in Elise's eyes weeks ago. He wanted to believe that it had happened, but he'd made no progress with her in all this time.

  In a moment of totally uncharacteristic fury, David lost control and slammed his fist down on the desk. "Damn! There's got to be a way! There's got to! I can't let her go on like this . . ."

  Only when he became consciously aware of the pain in his hand did David realize for the first time the power of his fury and how personally involved he'd become in this case. The recognition of the depth of his feelings of Elise gave him pause. He'd always made it a rule never to allow himself any personal feelings where his patients were concerned. Yet the thought of the young beauty, silent for so long now, touched him deeply. She was so lovely . . .

  David resolved firmly that no matter what the other experts said, he would never give up hope. Some day, some way, he was going to reach her.

  Though it was late at night, a single lamp was burning at full brightness on the dresser in Elise's room.

  Lying on the bed, Elise stared about the strange bedroom in supreme confusion. She was certain that she wasn't at home. Her room was pink and white. This room was done in shades of pale yellow and gold. Where was she? She sat up a bit too abruptly, and a wave of dizziness forced her to lie back down. Lifting a shaking hand to her forehead, Elise frowned as she tried to remember.

  Distant, hazy memories came to her slowly at first — memories that were warm and soft and gentle . . . memories of home and her aunt . . . memories of a man's voice . . . tender, coaxing, soothing. Did she know someone named David? she wondered, and then, at that instant, everything in her mind sharpened to crystal clarity. A shaft of ultimate terror jarred through her. There was no one named David. There was only Adam, the ship, and those men!

  To keep herself from screaming, Elise bit down on her hand so hard that she drew blood. She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to relive those horrible events that had devastated not only her body but also her very soul. Why hadn't she died too, just like Aunt Odile? She cursed the fates that had treated her so cruelly. If she had died, at least then she would have been at peace.

  With all the strength she could muster, she frantically withdrew from the horror. The black veil of protection that shielded her from the agonizing torment descended, blotting out the savagery that haunted her. Surrendering willingly to the comfort of its forgetfulness, Elise let herself slip away from the pain. It was so easy to do . . . to just let go . . .

  The sun was up. It had been for over an hour. The birds had already ceased calling out their morning greeting. The new day was well under way.

  Huddled in her bed, Lianne lay in quiet misery. Normally, she was the first one up in the morning, but today, as for the past several days, she'd been unable to muster even the most elemental energy. The last thing she felt like doing was getting out of bed. She was completely worn out. Lately, it seemed as if she couldn't get enough sleep no matter how early she went to bed.

  As she remained curled up under the covers, Lianne wondered if she was getting sick. She felt terrible, and along with being tired all the time, her stomach had started to act up. No matter what combination of foods she ate in the morning, nothing seemed to agree with her. This morning, she was feeling so awful that she decided not to even think about food. But in trying to not think about it, she thought about it and her stomach churned madly.

  Dragging herself from the bed, she had just enough time to make it to the chamber pot. Wretchedly she clutched her arms about her waist as her body was wracked with spasms. When nature had resolved itself, Lianne leaned weakly against one bedpost. Her limbs were quaking as she tried to steady herself. Her face was ashen.

  The knock at the door startled Lianne, though she didn't know just why. Surely everyone was wondering where she was by now. "Who is it?"

  "It's Sarah, Miss Lianne."

  "Oh . . ." She had no strength left to say any more.

  When Lianne had not appeared for her usual early breakfast, Sarah had been puzzled. Lianne hadn't been acting herself for a long time now, not that she could blame her young mistress for being upset over the loss of her home. Yet as well as she knew Lianne, Sarah felt it was more than that.

  Ever since Lianne had returned from that short trip to New Orleans five weeks ago and run into that no-good Labadie woman, she had become more and more quiet. The fact that Suzanne Labadie now made regular calls on Mr. Adam whenever he was in residence had only deepened Lianne's withdrawal. She rarely laughed anymore. She was eating less and less, and she often chose to skip dinner with Miss Becky and Mr. Adam.

  As Sarah pondered Lianne's actions, she slowly came to realize that the only time her mistress acted anything like her normal self was when Mr. Adam was away on one of his business trips. The connection surprised her. She knew Lianne had no use for Belle Arbor's new owner, but she had not thought that she hated him so much it would cause her to lose her appetite. Certainly, neither one of them went out of their way to speak to the other. It seemed to Sarah that they just tolerated each other.

  Still, Sarah suspected that there was something very serious troubling Lianne. After waiting nearly an hour for her to come down to eat, she finally decided to check on her. She wasn't sure how to help Lianne, or even if she could, but she wanted to let her know that she was there if she needed her.

  Sarah opened the door and came face to face with her mistress. One look at her pale face and frightened eyes sent her rushing to her side.

  "Miss Lianne, honey, what's wrong?" She helped her back into bed.

  "I guess I'm sick, Sarah," Lianne answered as she lay back down and pulled the covers protectively up to her chin.

  "From what I can see, there ain't no guessing about it," Sarah hustled to help make her comfortable. "Have you been sick all night?"

  "No. It's just in the mornings . . ." she replied faintly as she closed her eyes.

  At her words, Sarah went still. In the mornings? "You mean you've been sick like this on other mornings?" She fought to keep the sharpness out of her tone.

  Lianne nodded slowly. "For about a week now, I guess, but usually by afternoon I'm feeling all right."

  "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked soothingly.

  She shrugged slightly. "I kept thinking it would go away, but it hasn't . . ."

  "No, it sure hasn't," Sarah agreed as she picked up the chamber pot. "I'm going to clean this up, and then I'll
be back with a cup of tea for you. That should help settle your stomach."

  Again, Lianne only gave a nod and didn't even open her eyes when Sarah left the room. She trusted her friend completely. If anyone could help her to feel better, it would be Sarah.

  As the servant bustled down to the kitchen to prepare the tea, her mind was racing. Lianne was sick, but only in the mornings . . . She always felt better by the afternoon. The symptoms were there, but how could it be? She'd had no men callers. Adam was the only man Lianne had had any contact with, but her dislike of him was plain. She avoided him like the plague. Surely there was no way . . .

  Sarah stopped what she was doing and frowned. Her smooth brow furrowed at the thought of Lianne pregnant with Adam's child. She shook her head in confusion and denial. Picking up the tray, she headed back upstairs, wanting to believe in her heart that her mistress just had a touch of sickness that would soon pass.

  Sarah didn't bother to knock when she reached Lianne's room. She entered quietly, and then took care to make sure the door was closed firmly behind her. She kept her expression blank as she approached the bed with the tea.

  "I want you to sit up and take a few sips of this for me," she instructed. "It should help settle your stomach real quick."

  Lianne hadn't had the strength to move while Sarah was gone, and she'd barely acknowledged her return. The hope that something just might help her feel better encouraged her to at least make the attempt. Biting her lip to fight back the threatening nausea, she levered herself up to a sitting position.

  Sarah had already set the tray on the bedside table and she hurried to position Lianne's pillows supportively behind her. "There now," she spoke comfortingly. "Just try a little of this. That should be all it'll take."

  "Do you really think it'll help?" Lianne lifted her gaze questioningly to Sarah's.

  "We'll know real soon now, won't we? Go on, have a drink." Sarah tried to lighten the mood with her casualness, but all the while she wanted to tell Lianne that the special tea she'd prepared for her had worked wonders for her mother when she'd been pregnant with Alex.

  Lianne took a small sip from the delicate china cup, grimacing slightly at the brew's hot bitterness. "Ugh . . . what is this?" she asked.

  "It's an herb tea. It should help settle your stomach, but you're going to have to drink more than that."

  Dutifully, Lianne swallowed another mouthful and then sat back and waited. At any minute she expected her stomach to rebel at the intrusion, but if anything the magical potion seemed to ease her distress. She drank again, a little more deeply this time.

  "Does it seem to be staying down?" Sarah ventured as she moved about the bedroom straightening things.

  "It really does seem to be helping," Lianne confessed to Sarah, her expression reflecting her delight at the discovery. "I feel much better already. Where did you learn to make it?"

  "I always fixed it for your mama," Sarah told her easily as she kept picking up the room. "When she was pregnant, her stomach would act up, and this tea was the only thing that helped."

  When she was pregnant . . . Lianne had heard no more of Sarah's explanation than that. She sat stunned, the tea cup poised in midair, halfway to her lips. Could it be? No . . . No . . . No . . . she screamed silently.

  Yet even as Lianne tried to logically refute the possibility, she was suddenly aware of a myriad of things that had changed in her body. Lianne had paid little attention when her monthly flux was late. It was not unusual for her times to be erratic, and, considering the stress she'd been under, she hadn't really thought it that surprising. Now, however, the absence took on a whole new significance. How late was she? A week? Two or three? A quick mental calculation sent a shiver through her. She was more than three weeks overdue.

  Lianne swallowed nervously. She glanced to where the older woman stood openly regarding her now. It occurred to her then that Sarah had known right away while she had been so unaware.

  How could it have happened? They had only been together those two times. Lianne's hands began to shake so badly that she was forced to set the tea cup down. She blushed painfully as she met Sarah's eyes.

  "Have you been with a man, Lianne?" Sarah's tone was not condemning. It was warm and encouraging and filled with understanding.

  It took Lianne a long moment to find her voice. "Yes, but I can't be pregnant! I mean . . ."

  "How long ago?" Sarah tried to find out more.

  "Weeks . . ." Shock settled through her as she recognized the new heaviness in her breasts.

  "Have you had any other symptoms? Your mama's waist always got big on her first . . ."

  Suddenly Lianne had to know the truth. Throwing off her covers, she left the bed to stand before her cheval mirror. The flowing, long-sleeved, high-necked nightdress hid her figure from view, so she stripped it off. She felt no embarrassment as she stood completely nude before Sarah. Sarah had been with her since she was a baby and knew her body as well as Lianne did.

  With avid, fearful interest, Lianne studied her slender curves. The thickening about her waist was minimal, but it was there. Their gazes met and held in the reflection. The acknowledgment silent. Slowly, Sarah picked up the hastily discarded gown and handed it back to her.

  "What are you going to do?" She wanted to help, but knew her place. This was something Lianne would have to handle in her own way.

  "I don't know." Lianne slipped back into the gown and retreated to the bed. "I never thought anything like this would happen. It never entered my mind. I mean there were only two times when we were together . . ."

  She looked up guiltily, feeling the burdensome weight of her indiscretion. Suddenly, she needed to tell Sarah everything. She had kept all her heartache and disappointment bottled up inside of her all this time, and it was too much to bear alone any longer. Her voice was strangled as she began to explain, "It was awful, Sarah. The whole thing . . ."

  "What happened, child?"

  Lianne moved off the bed to wander around the room. "It was that first night after I came back from seeing Uncle Cyrus . . . Adam and I . . ."

  "So it was Mr. Adam?"

  At Lianne's nod, Sarah found she was actually shocked to find out her guess had been correct. She had harbored no particularly strong feelings for Adam one way or the other since he'd taken over Belle Arbor. She'd thought it had been decent of him to allow Lianne and Alex to stay on at the time, but she suddenly wondered if Lianne had been blackmailed into being with him in order to remain in her home.

  "He didn't force you, did he?" she demanded in a quick display of protective anger.

  "Oh, no!" Lianne put her suspicion to rest. Though she hated Adam and thought him arrogant and cold, he was not a man who had to force a woman to make love to him. Adam Trent was the kind of man women could not resist. Wasn't her own weakness around him proof of that? That he had destroyed her will so easily had only made her hate him more. "No, it was nothing like that . . ."

  "Then, you're gonna have to tell him, you know, and the sooner the better."

  "Tell him?" The thought terrified her. She didn't want anything more to do with him. She had deliberately avoided him ever since they'd returned from the New Orleans trip.

  For his part, since returning to Belle Arbor, it seemed that Adam was completely unaware that she went out of her way to avoid him. He had gone on about his business without giving her a thought. When they did run into one another, he'd been cold and distant. He had never made any effort to seek her out or to speak with her alone. Adam was a man who took what he wanted without care or thought about the consequences. He had used her and discarded her. It had been a momentary thing for him.

  Lianne hated Adam and wanted absolutely nothing more to do with him. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have thought that she would be anxious to leave Belle Arbor. Since returning from New Orleans, she'd been waiting anxiously for the weeks and months to pass so she could get what little remained of her inheritance and move away with Alex.

 
; Now, however, fate had intervened. Her entire existance was in upheaval again. Instead of being able to leave and begin a new life, she found herself irrevocably bound to the very man she despised by the child nurturing inside her.

  "Yes, tell him," Sarah was saying. "He's the father of the baby you're carrying. You have to tell him."

  Lianne couldn't think. A few minutes ago, she'd thought herself ill. Now, all of a sudden, her whole world was in a shambles. The problems in her life before seemed trivial compared to what she faced now.

  "You don't understand. He doesn't care about me, Sarah," she admitted.

  "He made love to you, didn't he?" she came back.

  Lianne's eyes glittered feverishly as she remembered their fervent matings. Caught up in the desire that had exploded between them, they had both been helpless to deny its power, but was that love?

  "I need to be alone, Sarah." It was all too freshly painful for her to go on talking about it. "I need time to think . . ."

  Sarah understood, but she also recognized the urgency of the situation. "You can't take too long, Lianne."

  She glanced up at her, her agony clearly showing on her expressive features. "I know."

  When Sarah had gone and she was alone with her thoughts, Lianne sank down on the bed and hugged her pillow to her. Pregnant . . . she was pregnant . . . She touched her still flat stomach with a gentle hand, and for a moment, she indulged herself in a childish fantasy. She was loved, and the baby was wanted. Adam was thrilled with the news, and they were married right away. Their lives would be perfect, and they would live happily ever after. A small smile touched her lips.

  In her imagination it sounded blissfully wonderful and uncomplicated, but the reality of the situation was something else. Adam did not love her, and she couldn't picture him being thrilled with the discovery.