A Pirate's Love (11 page)

“This will be easier than I expected,” he laughed.

“No!” she screamed, and started to scramble from the bed, but he was on her in a second.

“Will you be sensible, or will you repair your dress for a third time come morning?” he asked.

“You go to the devil!” she cried furiously.

She began to struggle, only to find Tristan's hands locked on her wrists. He pulled them above her head, leaving her defenseless except for her legs, and these were hampered by her skirt. His weight pressed down on her, and Bettina suddenly felt suffocated. She continued her panting efforts to free herself, but she could hear Tristan laughing. Laughing!

Bettina screamed then, a deafening scream of rage, but Tristan covered her mouth with his. When she thrashed her head from side to side to avoid his lips, he released her hands and held her face still, bruising her soft lips with his brutal kiss. He stopped, however, and cried out in pain when she raked her nails down his back.

“Damn you, she-cat!” he growled. He secured her wrists with one hand and ripped her dress down to
her waist with the other. He looked at her coldly and continued to watch her terror-filled expression as he finished tearing her dress apart. Then he tore the soft material of her shift away until her young flesh was open to his view. Tristan hoisted her legs over his shoulders and held them there with his massive arms. He entered her cruelly and raped her body with his anger.

When he had finished with her, his anger subsided. He released her and rolled to her side, not caring whether she resumed her attacks. But she just lay there, staring at the ceiling. She didn't even move when he pulled the cover over her.

“Bettina, why do you insist on pain? You experienced the ultimate in pleasure this morning, and I would gladly take you to those heights again,” he said quietly.

“You have no right to give me this pleasure!” she snapped, coming to life again and surprising him with her quick reply. “Only my husband will have that right. And you are not my husband!”

“And you will give yourself freely to this
comte
when you marry?”

“Of course.”

“But he is a man you have never seen. What if you hate him, even as you hate me? What then, Bettina?”

“That is of no concern to you.”

Bettina suddenly remembered the talk she had had with her mother about her forthcoming marriage, and her mother's wish that she find happiness at all cost. What if the Comte de Lambert was a cruel man—a man like Tristan?

No! She must not hate her future husband. She would need him to fulfill her revenge against Tristan.

“Since I will take you again, anyway, why not enjoy it, Bettina?” Tristan asked quietly. “No one need know that you abandoned yourself to me.”

“I would know!” she cried indignantly. “Now leave me be!”

She turned her back on him and let the silent tears caress her cheeks. It was a long while before Bettina could sleep. But Tristan's thoughts were equally troubled, and late in the night he quietly left the cabin.

T
he morning was well under way, and Tristan tried to control the urge to knock a few heads together. The surprised looks and hushed snickering from his crew, as if they could hardly recognize him without his beard, were wearing down his nerves. He had a mind to shave the whole lot of them; then he would see who would laugh!

It was in this angry mood that Tristan pounded on Jules's door. Madeleine Daudet opened it, then shrank back from him, fear in her eyes. With a scowl on his face, Tristan stepped into the cabin to find Jules sitting at the table over a cup of steaming black coffee.

“What the hell is keeping you, Jules?”

“I've been trying to reassure this one that you didn't beat her lady last night. Can't you keep that blasted wench from screaming her head off?”

“Would you have me gag her? That would just increase her low opinion of me, although why that should bother me, I don't know,” Tristan said. He turned to Madeleine with a look of annoyance. “Go to your lady. You will find her no worse off than she was yesterday. In fact, she should be quite pleased with herself.”

Tristan watched the old woman leave the cabin; then he closed the door and faced his friend. Jules laughed boisterously.

“Blast it, Jules!” Tristan stormed. “Your amusement at my expense has gone far enough. Perhaps if I shaved off your beard, you would not find it so humorous!”

“It is not your smooth face that I find amusing, 'tis your black eye,” Jules chuckled.

Tristan felt the tender area below his eye and winced. So, he had a black eye to go with the raw scratches on his back. He had forgotten about the blow Bettina had dealt to his cheek.

“Why do you let the wench get the better of you?” Jules asked soberly. “A good beating would put her in her place. I had to lock the old servant up last night when the girl started screaming. She was going to race to her lady's rescue.”

“I'll handle the girl the way I see fit. I'll tame her yet, and I've decided to keep her for a while,” Tristan said, grinning.

“What the devil are you talking about?”

“Just that I've a mind to enjoy Bettina Verlaine's company for a bit longer than planned. I changed course for our home island last night,” Tristan replied.

“But what of the ransom?”

“I will still collect the ransom—but not yet. The
comte
can wait to enjoy his bride. And can you honestly tell me you're not impatient to return to your little Maloma?”

“No, that I can't. But Bettina and Madeleine think they are going to Saint Martin. What's going to happen when they find their destination has been changed?” Jules asked.

“They needn't know until we reach home. Bettina will be the only one who will raise hell, but there won't be anything she can do about it.” Tristan paused thoughtfully. “Why don't you sound out the crew today and see what they have to say. These last two years at sea have yielded much booty. They shouldn't mind losing their shares of the ransom for the moment.”

“No, I'm sure they will gladly go along with your decision,” said Jules. “They are anxious to get back to their women.”

“One more thing. Whatever you do, don't let the old woman know of this. Warn the crew not to speak of it in front of her.”

 

“Bettina, are you all right?” Madeleine asked. She closed the door and sat down across from her ward.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“I heard your screams last night. I thought that he—”

“It was nothing,” Bettina said quickly. “Just screams of frustration, no more.”

Madeleine was perplexed. Bettina's lips were tight, her knuckles taut as she took careless stitches in her violet dress. She was wearing only her white shift, and Madeleine noticed the uneven seam in the front where it had been repaired. It was not like Bettina to sew unskillfully.

“I saw the
capitaine
,” Madeleine ventured. “He said that you would be pleased with yourself, but you do not seem so.”

Bettina looked up, her eyes like glittering emeralds. “So the
capitaine
thinks he can predict my feelings now. He is indeed a fool!”

She, too, had thought she would be pleased at be
ing able to fight Tristan. But losing to him had meant utter humiliation. She couldn't stop thinking about the degrading way he had raped her—raising her legs over his shoulders.

She had awakened quite early, relieved to find herself alone. She had sponged herself with cold water from the washstand, then began to repair her shift. But with each stitch she took, scenes from the night before flashed before her eyes. Her lips were still tender and slightly swollen from Tristan's hard, angry kisses. And there were tiny blue marks on her wrists, testimony to his superior strength.

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
.”

B
ettina 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 a 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 your 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.