A Pirate's Love Read online

  She decided to stop repairing her clothes every morning. She would wear Tristan's clothes, and if he insisted on ripping them off her every night, it would be his problem.

  Bettina smiled now at her servant. "I must remem­ber to ask Tristan if there is any white satin in the hold. I should begin making a new wedding dress as soon as possible." There was a sparkle in her deep-blue eyes.

  "But you have yet to finish the silk dress you started yesterday," Madeleine reminded her, glad to see Bet­tina smiling again.

  "The green dress will not take long to complete. And the sooner I make my wedding dress, the sooner I will be able to marry the comte."

  BETTINA had spent eleven days aboard the Spirited Lady, and had decided it was amazing how time seemed to stand still just when one willed it to fly on swift wings. Tristan stayed away from his cabin during the day, but every night he spent with her added to her fury and outrage.

  She recalled clearly the first night, a week ago, that Tristan had come into the cabin and found her wearing a pair of his breeches and a soft gold shirt. She could still hear the sound of his laughter ringing in her ears. And it didn't take long to learn what he found so amusing when he yanked the clothes from her body with hardly any effort at all, the large articles sliding off quite easily. But she continued to change into Tris­tan's apparel each evening to save her dresses from further ruin.

  One night in particular haunted her thoughts. Tristan had taken his time with her, coaxing her body to life, holding her immobile while he worked his magic. And then afterward, instead of laughing triumphantly, he had gently kissed the tears that slid from the corners of her eyes. She hated his gentleness more than his cruelty.

  Bettina cut the thread on the hem and held the dress out in front of her. It was a simple dress, sleeveless and untrimmed, made of soft lilac cotton. It was definitely not in fashion, but it would keep her cool during the heat of the day. Tristan had agreed to bring her some white satin, then had turned around and refused her when he learned she wanted it for a new wedding dress. It still didn't make any sense to her.

  "Bettina, we're there!"

  Bettina started violently when Madeleine rushed into the room, leaving the door open behind her. Her face was flushed and her gray-brown hair was matted and wet about her temples from working in the galley.

  "You scared the wits out of me. What—"

  "We're there, my pet!" Madeleine answered. "I saw the island when I went up on deck for a breath of fresh air. We have reached—"

  Before she could finish, Bettina had run from the room, across the deck, and up to the ship's railing. She didn't even hear Madeleine come up behind her.

  "It is not what I expected Saint Martin to look like," Madeleine said quietly. "I mean, it looks deserted. But it is beautiful, is it not?"

  Beautiful was hardly the word. A gleaming white beach surrounded them, for the ship was in a small turquoise cove, completely hidden from the vast sea beyond. Swaying palms lined the beach, and a dense green jungle flourished beyond. A magnificent two-horned mountain towered over the island, covered with smooth, gray-green foliage and surrounded by dark-gray clouds. A deep gorge between the two peaks cut to the heart of the mountain, where the rays of the late morning sun found and brilliantly lit a white cloud formation.

  Bettina turned to her servant, her blue eyes alight with pleasure.

  "I never dreamed Saint Martin would be this beau­tiful—it is a paradise!" Bettina exclaimed. "Oh, I am going to love it here."

  "I think I will, too." Madeleine smiled. "Though it seems strange to see all this greenery in the middle of winter."

  "Yes. Imagine what it will look like in spring and summer!"

  "I could not even begin to," Madeleine laughed.

  "I wonder where all the natives are?" said Bettina. "I can't see any buildings, either."

  "This is probably just a deserted side of the island."

  "Of course," Bettina replied. "It would be dangerous to sail a pirate ship into a crowded enemy harbor."

  "Yes. But there is another ship in the cove. Come and see it."

  "What ship?" Bettina asked.

  "It was already here when we came. But there is no crew aboard her."

  They crossed the deck to see the other vessel. It had three bare masts and looked like a sister to the Spirited Lady.

  "I wonder where the crew is," said Bettina.

  "They must be on the island," Madeleine said. "Per­haps the town is not so far away after all. It is probably just hidden by the jungle."

  "Do you think so?"

  "Of course. It should not take long to contact the Comte de Lambert. We will probably be at his planta­tion before the day is through."

  Bettina rejoiced. Freedom at last! No more Tristan, no more rape and humiliation. And soon, revenge.

  "Oh, Maddy, this nightmare is finally over!"

  "Yes, my pet, finally."

  Bettina turned to walk back to her cabin, and ran into Jules's massive chest. She gasped and stepped back with wide, terror-filled eyes.

  "If you ladies will return to your cabins and collect your belongings, you will be taken ashore presently," he said politely. Then he looked to Madeleine and his voice softened. "If you will hurry, please. The first boat has already been lowered, madame."

  "Where—where is the capitaine?" Bettina ventured. It was the first time she had seen Jules since the day he had tried to whip her, and no matter how much Madeleine spoke in his defense, Bettina still feared him.

  "Tristan is busy."

  "But he said the exchange would take place aboard this ship. Why are we going ashore?" Bettina asked.

  "The plan has been changed."

  He turned and walked away, leaving Bettina be­wildered. Why would Tristan change his mind about the exchange?

  Bettina left Madeleine and went back to Tristan's cabin. It took her only a minute to fold her two dresses. She decided to leave the silver comb that Tristan had given her, for the Comte de Lambert would surely give her anything she needed. But then she changed her mind. It was z. costly item, and she would take it if only to keep Tristan from selling it. She would throw it away later, as she planned to do with the two dresses she had made aboard the Spirited Lady.

  Without a final glance at Tristan's hated cabin, Bet­tina walked back on deck, the soft green silk of her skirt swaying gently. She crossed to the railing and was disappointed to find that clouds now blocked her view of the beautiful, horned mountain. She might never see that trick of light again, where only the heart of the mountain had been lit, deep inside the gorge. But perhaps it had been a good omen welcoming her to her new home, a promise of the many wondrous things she had yet to see, and of the happy life she would have here with the comte.

  A surge of happiness lifted her spirits, and the sun touched her face as it broke through the clouds to light the small cove.

  "Are you ready to leave, little one?"

  She turned abruptly at the sound of Tristan's deep voice. He stood on deck with his legs apart, his hands clasped behind his back and a warm smile upon his lips. He looked very handsome, and was elegantly dressed in a white silk shirt, ruffled at the neck and cuffs, white breeches, a black leather vest belted closed, and black knee-high leather boots.

  "I was ready to leave you eleven days ago," she told him haughtily. "How long will it be before the exchange takes place?"

  "Are you so anxious to part from me?"

  "That is a ridiculous question to ask, Tristan. I pray for the day when you will be wiped from my memory," she said icily.

  "Your hair is stunning when the sun shines on it," he said playfully.

  "Why do you change the subject?"

  "Would you prefer to go to my cabin, where we can discuss the subject more privately?" he ventured, his eyes twinkling.

  "No!" she said. "I am ready to leave."

  "Then come, my love," he replied, taking her arm and leading her across the deck to where Madeleine and Jules were waiting. "You can leave you
r belongings on board if you like. My men will bring them ashore later," Tristan said.

  "No, I want to leave now, with everything."

  "As you wish."

  Tristan helped Bettina into one of the two small landing boats. Madeleine sat beside her, with Tristan behind them at the rudder and six crewmen in front. Jules went in the other boat. The crewmen pulled strongly on the oars, and they surged over the short stretch of water toward the beach.

  As Bettina watched the small waves lapping at the sides of the boat, she wondered idly why Tristan hadn't tried to bed her one last time this morning. If she had learned anything about him these past eleven days, it was that he was a very demanding man, so why would he pass up this last chance?

  But, she told herself, she should just be thankful that he had been occupied elsewhere and that this nightmare was at an end.

  They reached the shore, and the man called Davey jumped into the water to pull the small boat up on the sand. Tristan helped, and then insisted on carrying Bet­tina up to dry sand, where Madeleine joined her.

  Bettina started to stroll down the beach, thinking that it would take some time to ferry the whole crew ashore. But Tristan stopped her before she had walked three yards.

  "We go now."

  She turned back at his command, to see that both boats were heading back to the ship. Jules had remained behind and was leading Madeleine and ten crewmen to the edge of the beach. Tristan took Bettina's arm.

  "Aren't we going to wait for the rest of your crew?" she asked, looking out to the ship. "Or don't you need them?"

  "They will come later," he said, and led her to join the others.

  "But where are we going?"

  "It is not far."

  Bettina stopped walking. "Why are you being so evasive? I want to know where you are taking us!"

  "There is a house not far from here. You would like a bath, wouldn't you?"

  She smiled. She hadn't had a real bath, in a tub, for far too long. And she definitely wanted to be clean when she met the comte for the first time.

  Tristan took her hand and led the way into the forest along a man-made path. The forest was not so dense here as she had thought. The trees were widely spaced, and there was hardly any undergrowth, mostly bare sandy earth, with short, stubby grass growing here and there.

  They soon reached the house that Tristan had men­tioned, which looked more like some kind of fortress. The building was large and built of heavy white stones. The first floor was square, and a royal palm tree stood on either side of the small front door. The second floor was U-shaped, forming a courtyard open to the front above the door. A small jungle of beautiful flowers and plants grew in pots in this courtyard, some reaching above the second-floor roof, and some trailing over the edge of the courtyard. The front-door palm trees framed the potted jungle and towered above the house. Beauti­ful rolling lawns, immaculately cared for, surrounded the house on all sides. The most beautiful flowers, with red, yellow, orange, even purple and blue blossoms, grew at the edge of the lawns and against every wall. The house seemed sturdy and welcoming, and she al­most wished that it belonged to the Comte de Lambert, for she would have liked to live here.

  Suddenly, the front door was opened by a tall man. The single door was small, out of proportion to the rest of the house, and the man's frame completely blocked it. He stood with his legs astride, his hands on his hips, and looked very angry.

  Tristan stopped, and Jules came up from the rear to join him. They stood only a few feet from the man in the doorway, and Bettina sensed tension in the air.

  "I would hardly be recognizin' you, Tristan, were it not for your watchdog Bandelaire," the man challenged.

  "I can see you haven't changed, Casey," Tristan re­plied harshly.

  "That I haven't. And I'm still young enough to take you on, lad."

  "But you'll still have to fight me first, Casey," Jules growled.

  "Enough!" Tristan said. "It's time this old seadog and I had it out."

  Bettina gasped as the two men charged at one an­other, but then they embraced each other and started laughing. These men were like children playing a stupid game, Bettina thought angrily. They were friends!

  The man they called Casey now had a genuinely warm smile on his lips. He stood beside Tristan and greeted Jules with a tight clasp of hands.

  "It was a foolish thing to do!"

  "What?" Bettina asked Madeleine.

  "I thought my heart would stop!" Madeleine an­swered. "I am too old to witness such foolishness."

  "Why are you upset?" Bettina asked, forgetting her own annoyance.

  "Jules—"

  "Jules!" Bettina exclaimed, and suddenly she remem­bered how the big man's voice had softened when he spoke to Madeleine. "What is he to you?"

  "Nothing," Madeleine replied. "But he told me I re­mind him of his mother. I thought it was touching. He treats me kindly, and you should hear how he raves over my cooking."

  "Honestly, Maddy, you sound as if you have adopted him!"

  "I was only concerned for him. That man they called Casey looked so mean.".

  "Jules is the same height, younger, and nearly twice the weight of the other man," Bettina replied, irritated. "There was no reason for you to be afraid for him. And—"

  "Be this another one to add to your harem, lad?" a man's voice asked.

  Bettina turned and saw that Casey was staring direct­ly at her. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

  "I have no harem, Casey, as you're well aware," Tris­tan smiled. "One spirited lady is all I can handle at a time."

  Jules laughed, understanding which spirited lady Tris­tan was talking about. But Casey was perplexed, think­ing of Tristan's ship.

  "Is this woman married, then?" Casey asked.

  "No, but she's spoken for, so cast your eyes else­where," said Tristan.

  "And here I thought I was in for a change in me luck. Be there no room for bargainin'?"

  "None at all," Tristan answered. "So warn your crew that she is not to be approached."

  Bettina was ready to spit fire, and she stiffened when Tristan approached her.

  "Would you like to have that bath now, or would you prefer something to eat first?" he asked.

  "Neither, if the house belongs to that crude man!" Bettina replied heatedly, her dark-green eyes flashing.

  Tristan laughed. "It's not Casey's house, but you have misjudged him. He's a good man, and was merely jest­ing about you. His crew is off carousing in the village, but he rarely goes there."

  "How far is this village?"

  "About a mile inland."

  "Is that where the Comte de Lambert has his planta­tion?" she asked hopefully.

  "No."

  "Then where—"

  "Come," he said, cutting her off. "I'll show you to a room where you can bathe."

  "How long will we be here?"

  "A while," he replied curtly, and led Bettina into the house. Jules had already taken Madeleine inside, and Casey had disappeared.

  The entire square bottom floor formed one cool, dark room. There were only a few windows on three of the walls, and these were small and high, above eye level, letting in very little light. The wall to the right held a stone fireplace, very sooty, which seemed to be used for cooking. A few wooden chairs stood beside the fireplace and a plain sideboard with pots and dishes.

  A huge table stood in the center of the room, made of rough, uneven wood, with twenty or more chairs about it. Above the table, and oddly out of place in this big room, was a large crystal chandelier with half-burnt candles. There was no other furniture in the room, and nothing adorning the stone walls. A sturdy wooden staircase without railings led up to the second floor.

  "There are six rooms upstairs, three on each side of the house. You may use the first room on the right side," Tristan told Bettina.

  "After I bathe, will we be leaving?"

  "We will eat first. But you can take your time, for I have to see about the provisions."
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  Tristan ordered a caldron of water to be heated over the fire, and left. Bettina put aside her annoyance at Tristan's evasiveness and turned to Madeleine.

  "The capitaine said we could use the first room on the right. It will be good to have a bath after being so long at sea."

  "It certainly will," Madeleine replied. "But I want to see to the meal first."

  "Very well," Bettina said and started for the stairs.

  At the top of the stairs was a short corridor brightly illuminated by windows on both sides, one side looking out on the beautiful courtyard garden on the roof, and the other side looking down on the green lawns behind the house. The corridor continued into both wings, with bedroom doors on one side of the passage and windows looking out on the garden on the other side.

  Bettina walked into the large bedroom Tristan had said she might use. It looked comfortable, but there was dust on everything, including the thick green-and-yellow quilted bedspread. There was a very large black-green-and-yellow Oriental rug that almost completely covered the floor. A large sea chest was at the foot of the big four-poster bed, and two chairs, covered in light-green velvet, stood against a wall.

  The room had no fireplace, but Bettina supposed there would be no need for one in such a warm climate. The window overlooking the lawn had a wonderful view of the horned mountain in the far distance. But Bettina was disappointed to see that the mountain was still dark and brooding.

  She went to the large chest at the foot of the bed and opened it, but it was empty. There was an intricately carved folding screen in one corner that hid a fairly large tub. Bettina ran her ringer along the rounded top edge of the screen to remove the dust, then laid her dresses over it. She set her silver comb on the table beside the bed, then stripped the heavy cover off the bed and shook it out, watching the dust particles float in the air. She put the spread back and dusted the rest of the furniture with her hands until young Joey, the cabin boy, entered the room with the first buckets of warm water, Madeleine following him with towels and soap.

  With the door open, Bettina could hear the sound of female giggling coming from the first floor. "Are there other women here?" she asked in surprise.