A Pirate's Love (14 page)

“There is no escape, Bettina,” he said, and began to remove his clothing.

She ran to the window, then looked back at him, her face a mask of fury. “I will jump!”

“No, you won't. You have everything to live for, including taking your revenge against me.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Why do you fight me so, Bettina?”

“Because of your deceit, your lies, and because you continue to rape me!”

“You have just lied to me about being ill, yet I don't seek revenge against you.”

“No? Then why are you keeping me here, Tristan?” she asked.

“Certainly not for revenge,” he replied. “If I were to offer you marriage—what, then?”

“I would not marry you for all the riches in the world!” she said heatedly, then added in a curiously level voice, “But you do not offer marriage, Tristan.”

“No, I don't. But I don't beat you, Bettina, and I give you anything you need. I ask only that you let me make love to you. De Lambert would not treat you better than I.” His voice held a surprising note of tenderness.

“Perhaps not. But at least
he
will not have to rape me,” she taunted.

Tristan's eyes narrowed, and he scowled darkly. “He doesn't have you yet, Bettina.”

P
ale moonlight touched the rug by the window and filled the room with a gray light when Tristan blew out the candles. It was a long time before he finally went to sleep. Bettina was grateful that he slept on his back, for the sound of his snoring covered up her movements about the room. She eased herself from the bed without disturbing him, and quickly donned her dark violet dress, keeping her eyes on Tristan all the while.

I told you I would run away if you raped me again, Bettina thought. But you did not believe me. No, you had to force your lust on me again. Well, you will awake in the morning and I will be gone. And you will never find me, Tristan.

Bettina closed the door without a sound and cautiously made her way downstairs. She had assumed she would have to step over the sleeping bodies of the crew in the big dining hall, but there was no one about. She supposed they were either in the village or sleeping on the ship.

Bettina set out across the lawn, with only single-minded determination and outrage spurring her on. She was surprised by the brightness of the moon
light. But sudden apprehension came over her when she saw the black mass of trees before her, knowing that was the direction she must take.

The moon was slightly behind her, making it easy for her to find the wide path leading into the forest, but once she was inside, only a few pale rays of moonlight lit the ground with speckled patches of gray. It was barely enough light for her to see the corral and the seven horses within.

Bettina had to stop and think. She had to have some kind of plan. She glanced back through the trees and could see the large house quite clearly. She could see no light from any of the windows, and all was quiet.

Tristan was obviously still sleeping soundly, and he probably would until morning, but she needed a lot of time to put enough distance between them. He would take one of the horses to come after her, and would catch her quickly if she were on foot. So she must take one of the horses for herself.

Bettina braided her hair quickly in two long plaits and tied them into a knot at the back of her neck. Then she crossed to the corral fence and looked for a gate. The fence was made of long wooden planks nailed to wooden posts, and formed a large, clumsy circle, but she could see no gate. She tried lifting the top plank, but it wouldn't budge. Taking a deep breath, Bettina moved to the next pair of planks, and this time the top one moved. It was quite heavy, and she had to use both her arms to lift the board from its supporting brackets and lower it to the ground.

One of the horses neighed, and then another, and Bettina gasped. The sound seemed to her like a blast of trumpets in the still night. She glanced about nervously, trying to see into the black shadows of the
forest; then she looked back toward the house, but there was still no sign of life there. She was aware of other sounds now: leaves rustling, mosquitoes buzzing, crickets singing, and other sounds she couldn't identify.

Take courage, Bettina. Tristan will continue to sleep—he must, she thought. She stepped over the lower plank and into the corral.

The white stallion was a soft gray in the darkness, and Bettina edged very slowly toward him. He shied away from her, and all the horses moved dangerously close to the opening in the fence. She feared for a moment that they would all escape, but then they settled down again.

This was not going to be easy, Bettina thought, almost ready to give up. She had no saddle, no bridle, not even a rope. She would have to catch the horse by his mane, then pull herself up and hope she could stay on his back. Luckily, he wasn't such a big animal, but how was she going to catch him if he kept shying away from her?

She tried again, moving more slowly this time, beckoning to him sweetly. She reached her hand out slowly and gently touched the stallion's neck, talking to him all the while. Then she moved closer and rubbed his velvety nose, letting him smell her.

Bettina continued to talk to him for a while as she stroked his neck, hoping that he would relax and not rear up when she tried to mount him. She coaxed him the few feet to the opening in the fence. The other horses shied away as she passed them, and she prayed her stallion wouldn't move away when she lowered the remaining plank to the ground. But he stayed behind her, and even remained perfectly still when she took hold of his mane. With a jump, she
hoisted herself up, lifted one leg over his back, and sat up straight.

Bettina had already decided against closing the fence, hoping that the other horses would escape during the night. Then Tristan would have no horse to follow her with.

With a feeling of accomplishment, Bettina gathered her skirt up and tucked it under her legs, then urged the stallion forward. She nearly fell when he took his first step, and she grabbed his mane quickly, almost deciding again to escape on foot instead. But the horse continued to walk slowly down the path, and she saw that it was not too difficult to stay on his back.

Looking back, Bettina saw the rest of the horses leaving the corral and following behind her. She was sure now that her escape was possible, and thought where she should go next. The obvious place would be the opposite side of the island, but Tristan would also think of this. So that left her with two choices—either the left or the right side of the island.

But first she had to locate the village. There was no point in trying to find help there, and besides, the village would probably be the first place Tristan would look. But it could take a week or even longer before she could hail a passing ship, and she needed to be far away from anyone who might see her and inform Tristan of her whereabouts.

The path turned sharply to the left, but it was still wide enough to allow moonlight to break through openings in the trees. Bettina looked back. She could no longer see the house or the corral, only thick black darkness threatening her on all sides. The other horses no longer trailed after her, but had wandered off into the forest.

Bettina felt as if she were the only person on the entire island. She fought down panic, reminding herself why she was escaping. Then she realized that she was leaving Madeleine behind.

Bettina immediately tried to turn the horse around, but then changed her mind and let the stallion continue forward along the path. She couldn't take Madeleine with her. Her only possible chance for success was to remain perfectly alone in this venture. Madeleine wouldn't have the courage to escape. She was terrified of horses, for one thing. She would try to dissuade Bettina from leaving and might even tell Tristan of her plans.

Bettina decided to get safely away and tell her tale to the Comte de Lambert. Then he would come and rescue Madeleine, and Bettina would have her revenge at the same time. Madeleine would be safe on this island for a while. Despite Tristan's anger, he wouldn't punish Madeleine.

The fifteen or twenty minutes that the horse plodded along the path seemed like hours. Bettina strained her eyes to see what lay ahead, but the forest was too dense. Then the path turned slightly to the right. There was a large clearing, bathed in silver moonlight, and Bettina could see a dozen thatched huts crowded closely together.

She quickly turned the horse around and urged him into a slow canter, straight into the dark gloom of the forest.

Bettina had her direction now: the right side of the island. There was no longer a path to follow, and the trees were so dense in this part of the forest that the stallion was forced to walk. Bettina hoped the horse had better eyes than she did, for she could barely see two feet in front of her.

The horse walked around trees and thick shrubs, never keeping to a straight line, but Bettina kept him headed slightly to the left. This would take her to the right side of the island, but farther away from Tristan.

An hour passed and then several more. Bettina had no idea how much time she had before dawn, but she knew she had to gain more distance than this before Tristan awoke. She hoped he would sleep late. No one would disturb him, and anyone who was up and about would assume that she was in Tristan's room.

Two more hours passed, and Bettina came upon a thick stand of banana trees that were too dense for her to pass through. The moon was on the other side of the island now, but Bettina could see the sky here, and it was definitely becoming lighter. She urged the stallion into a canter to circle around the banana trees. But then she had to slow down again when she entered forest land again.

She hoped that Tristan wouldn't be able to travel any faster than she. He might travel along the shoreline, but there he would have no idea where to stop and search for her. When she reached the shore, she would hide in the forest and wait for a passing ship. Tristan would never find her, no matter how long he searched.

She could distinguish color now. Dark reds and yellows—flowers that she could smell before but couldn't see. Bettina looked up and saw patches of soft blue sky, tinted with pink and orange now. Birds began to awaken, and soon the forest was alive with their sweet songs. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Then, unexpectedly, a small brown animal ran in front of the stallion. He reared up, sending Bettina
tumbling to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. When she finally sat up, the horse was gone.

Bettina felt close to tears. She stood up and brushed the leaves and twigs from her dress. She was at a loss for direction until she sighted the horned mountain through an opening in the trees. She continued toward the beach, and soon found that she could make better time on foot, now that she could see where she was going.

After an hour of half-running, half-walking, Bettina could hear surf in the near distance. She ran as fast as she could, dodging trees and low bushes. And then the sun blinded her as she broke out of the forest. She fell to her knees in the cold sand.

Bettina lowered her head and after a few moments was able to still her heavy breathing. When she looked up again, she couldn't believe what she saw. To the left of the rising sun was a ship, only a mile or so offshore.

Without a second thought, Bettina jumped to her feet and started waving her arms frantically. She called out, but then thought better of this, for they couldn't hear her, anyway. The ship moved across the sun and then sailed toward another point on the island.

Bettina continued to wave, beginning to fear that no one on the ship would see her. Then the vessel turned about and started coming toward her. Bettina sank down in the sand and started crying.

She watched impatiently as a small boat was lowered. Scanning the glittering white beach, Bettina feared that Tristan might appear before the boat had been rowed ashore. But after fifteen agonizingly slow minutes, Bettina was safely in the care of Captain William Rawlinsen and on her way to his ship.

“I
'd take you ashore myself, Mademoiselle Verlaine, but picking you up and dropping you here has put me slightly off my schedule,” Captain Rawlinsen said. “And it's good business to keep on schedule.”

“It is not necessary,
Capitaine
. You have been more than kind already. I am sure I will have no trouble finding the Comte de Lambert's plantation.”

“No, I don't doubt you will. His is one of the biggest plantations on the island, or so I've been told.”

They stood on the deck as the small boat was lowered that would take Bettina ashore. She had grown fond of Captain Rawlinsen in the two weeks it had taken to reach Saint Martin. He was an amiable man in his early fifties, a merchant captain who transported rum and tobacco to the American colonies and brought back necessary items unobtainable in the islands.

Bettina had lied to him about how she had come to be on Tristan's island. She had said she had fallen overboard from the ship taking her to Saint Martin and had swum ashore. He had marveled that she made it to the shore alive, since there were many sharks and barracudas in those waters.

Bettina had asked Captain Rawlinsen to draw her a small map showing how to get back to the island. She had explained that it was a beautiful place and she might one day wish to show it to the Comte de Lambert. She had the small map tucked safely in the hem of her dress, which she held in her arms along with her shift and shoes.

“I still do not see why you insist upon my wearing these clothes,” Bettina said, pointing to the knee-length breeches and the baggy white shirt the captain had given her that morning.

Captain Rawlinsen smiled. “Billy's clothes fit you nicely, child.”

“Nicely? They are huge.”

“That was the idea. They're loose enough to hide your beauty. Dressed like this, you shouldn't have any trouble with the sailors who roam the docks.” He paused, looking at her quizzically. “How on earth did you manage to hide all your lovely hair under that red scarf?”

“I was not able to.” Bettina laughed. “I have it loose beneath this shirt and—ah—tucked into these breeches.” She had hoped she would never have to wear a man's clothes again.

The captain laughed now. “Well, at least it's not visible.”

“But it is quite uncomfortable.”

“It shouldn't take you long to find your betrothed, and then you can change back to your dress. Well, the boat's down. Rask will take you ashore. And—uh—don't forget to slump over when you walk. No use showing what we've tried to hide.”

Bettina smiled and kissed the captain on the cheek, causing him to blush considerably. He helped
her over the side and stood by the rail, watching the small boat row ashore.

 

Bettina walked slowly down the crowded dock, amazed at the bustle and activity. Many ships were being unloaded. Wagons pulled by stout horses moved back and forth. Four small children were chasing a scrawny cat around a rubbish pile. This dock was much more crowded than Tortola's.

Bettina tried stopping a sailor, but he didn't even glance in her direction. She tried again and failed. No one would pay her any attention at all.

Stopping to consider what to do next, Bettina scanned the docks. She noticed two men who were closely observing three youths begging in front of a store, accosting the customers as they came and went. She walked over to the two men, for at least they weren't in any hurry to go somewhere.

“Excuse me,” she ventured.

They both turned around to look at her. The taller of the two men was Bettina's height, and he had light-brown eyes that lit up when he saw her. The other man was a few inches shorter, with beady little eyes and a hooked nose that was out of proportion to his face.

“If you ain't just what me captain ordered,” the taller man said enthusiastically.

“That he is, Shawn,” the other said, eyeing Bettina from head to foot.

Bettina started to back away. She looked from one man to the other.

“Wait up, me lad,” the man called Shawn said quickly. “I be offerin' you the job of cabin boy to me captain.”

“You don't understand,” Bettina started, but the man grabbed her arm.

“Now, don't be tellin' me you wouldn't like to sail the seas. 'Tis a fine life, it be.”

“No,” Bettina said flatly. She tried to pull her arm away, but the man's grip was like iron.

“Where's your sense of adventure, lad? You're perfect for the task. We've seen nothin' but scrawny youths so far, who'd not last a single voyage. What say you?”

“No!” she replied again with growing alarm. “Now release me!”

But he turned her around, pulling her arm behind her back painfully. She couldn't believe that this was happening with people all around her.

“'Tis too bad you've decided to be reluctant, lad, but it makes no difference.”

“You don't—”

“Say another word and I'll run me blade through your back,” he growled and bent her arm back farther. She thought she would faint with the pain. “Captain Mike sent us to find a likely lad, and you're the only one we've seen. You'll get used to the task soon enough, for Captain Mike ain't hard to please. You'll even thank me one day, for the sea's a good life.”

They started forward then, with one man on each side of her, holding onto her arms. Bettina could feel the point of a knife pressed into the small of her back.

They took her to a ship that was loading cargo and preparing to set sail. The crew was too busy to notice her as the two men brought her aboard, and fear began to take root in her. What if she couldn't get out of this?

She was taken to the captain's cabin. The man called Shawn shoved her inside but halted before he closed the door. His face was dark as he sheathed his dagger.

“Old Mike wouldn't like to hear you're reluctant. I give you warnin',” he said in a dangerously even voice. “If you tell him you don't want to sail, I'll cut your throat. I hope you understand me, lad, for I'll be watchin' you.”

When the door closed and she was left alone, she ran for the door. She opened it, but Shawn and his short friend were standing just outside the cabin, so she closed the door quickly. This was ridiculous. She had been kidnapped again, but this time because they thought she was a young boy. Why did she end up in even worse trouble every time she escaped Tristan?

Bettina started to pace the floor. She wished this Captain Mike would hurry up. Her only hope was to explain everything and hope that he would let her go. But what if the ship sailed before he returned to his cabin?

The minutes passed and dragged into hours. Bettina tried the door again, but Shawn was still outside, watching as he said he would. Would he really kill her if she told the captain he'd brought her here by force? But she couldn't very well become a cabin boy. The captain would soon discover she was a woman.

Why was she drawn to misfortune like a moth to fire? First Tristan, then jail, then Tristan again, and now this. And her betrothed was right here on this very island, but she couldn't even seek his help. What if this captain were another man like Tristan?

The door opened suddenly, and a tall man with
flaming red hair came into the cabin. He eyed her speculatively as he crossed the room and sank into a chair behind a littered desk. He was a handsome man of middle age, but seemed bone-weary.

“So you're me new cabin boy,” he sighed. Even his voice sounded tired.

“No,
monsieur
,” Bettina answered weakly, not knowing whether to be afraid of him or not.

“Then what're you doing here?”

“Two of your men brought me here.”

“What for?” he asked, his green eyes staring at her intently.

“They brought me here to be your cabin boy, but—”

“But you've changed your mind,” he answered for her. “Can I persuade you to reconsider? Me last boy was washed overboard in a storm, but he was a sickly youth. Now you—you look to be a sturdy lad, and there's not time to find another boy as able as you, since we sail tonight. What say you?”

“It is impossible,
Capitaine
.”

“If you're worried because you're French, there be no need,” he said with a touch of impatience in his voice. “I have other Frenchies on me ship, so you'll not be alone. And you speak English well enough. There'll be a share in the profits for you, and a chance for advancement.”

“If I were a boy,
Capitaine
, then I would probably be tempted by your offer.”

“If you were a boy? What nonsense be this, lad?”

“I'm not a lad,” Bettina replied quickly. “When your men brought me here, they did not give me a chance to explain,
Capitaine
. I am a girl.”

“A girl?” he asked disbelievingly.

Bettina became irritated by his doubt, and slowly
removed the red scarf, then pulled her hair out from beneath her shirt. “Yes—a girl.”

Captain Mike's sudden laughter startled Bettina, and she stared at him in confusion. “I thought your face a bit too pretty for a lad, but I've seen others with such faces, so I let it pass. You should dress in the clothes of your sex, lass, to avoid confusion.” Green lights seemed to dance in his eyes as he spoke.

“I am not in the habit of wearing men's clothes,
Capitaine
. I was advised to dress this way so I would not attract attention.”

“But attract attention you did. So me men have resorted to impressing young lasses! I am sorry for your inconvenience, lass.”

“Then I can go?”

“Yes, and go quickly, before I forget how tired I am. But hide your lovely hair again, me dear. You had best leave the same as you came.”

Bettina did as he asked, relief flooding her as she tied the scarf behind her head. The captain stood up and walked her to the door; then he lifted her hand and kissed it very tenderly.

“It has been a pleasure I will long remember, lass. Godspeed.”

When Bettina stepped back into the blinding sunlight, she suddenly remembered the man Shawn and the warning he had given her. She looked about the deck quickly and saw him standing only a few feet from her. Her green eyes widened at his angry glare, and she glanced back at the captain's cabin, but he had already closed the door.

“So you told him, did you!” Shawn growled.

He drew his dagger and held it rigidly in his right
hand as he started to approach her. “I warned you, lad, that I did.”

Bettina gasped, and her face turned a snowy white. The men on deck stopped what they were doing, thinking to witness a bloody fight, but Bettina didn't notice this. No words would come from her mouth, not even a scream, as she stood paralyzed. The man Shawn seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Run, Bettina screamed in her mind. Run, for God's sake, run! And then her legs finally moved and continued to move in a blind panic, as if they were no longer a part of her body. She ran down the gang-plank and halfway down the dock, but she could hear the man right behind her.

She stumbled then and fell flat on her face, but the man had been so close to her that he tumbled over her and went sprawling yards away. Bettina jumped to her feet with lightning speed and ran toward the town, bumping into people in her flight. She couldn't even stop to seek help, for she was sure the man would knife her before she could utter a word. She had to outrun him. She had to find a place to hide.

She ran down streets, going deeper into town, but the farther she ran, the more deserted the streets became, and she could still hear the man panting and grunting behind her. Why didn't he give up?

Then Bettina ran straight into the arms of another man.

“Release me!” she screamed and struggled frantically, but this new man held her firmly against him.

“You,” the man who held her whispered with amazement.

Bettina looked up at him, and her eyes widened
in recognition. This was the French sailor who had been whipped because of her on the
Windsong
. Before she could speak, he had shoved her behind him and pulled a glittering knife. Shawn had reached them, and in his anger he immediately slashed at the Frenchman with his dagger.

Bettina knew she should make her escape, but she stood frozen against the front of a building, hypnotized by the flashing blades in the sunlight. The sailor who had suffered so cruelly because of her was now protecting her, and she couldn't bring herself to leave him.

The Frenchman was taller than Shawn, stockier in build, and Shawn was exhausted from the chase. But the smaller man had anger on his side, and he was determined to win. Blood appeared on both men, then more of it as the blades struck flesh and did their damage. And then the Frenchman's blade sank into Shawn's shoulder, rendering his right arm useless. A closed fist to Shawn's jaw sent him crashing against the building, where he fell in a heap to the ground.

“Come.” The Frenchman took Bettina's hand and pulled her behind him down the street until he came to an old building. He took her inside, and, without encountering anyone, he marched her up a flight of stairs to a room on the second floor.

Bettina couldn't believe that she was safe. She had come so close to dying, so very close, and she began to tremble as relief flooded her. She collapsed into the only chair in the room.

When her breathing returned to normal and her heart slowed to a regular beat, Bettina took note of her surroundings. The room was very small and dark, and besides the wooden chair she was sitting
in, there was only a washstand and a single bed with rumpled covers. One window looked out over a narrow alley, but the next building blocked all sunlight.

The French sailor lit a candle on the washstand. There were many small cuts on his arms and chest, and blood was dripping to the floor from his right hand, where one finger was nearly severed. Bettina was appalled and quickly stood up to offer help. The bundle in her lap fell to the floor, and she was amazed to find that she still had her clothes with her. She picked up the bundle and set it on the chair, then approached the Frenchman.