Bound by the Heart (23 page)

"The
Étoile?"

"A fourty-four gun frigate the
Northgate
stumbled across in the same
general area as the Sirens a short while ago. It was hulled rather badly, I'm
afraid. Beyond salvage. But Captain Forbes did manage to keep a few mementos,
including her masthead."

"I see. Very neatly done. But how do you propose
to keep Wade in sight without being seen yourself?"

"With this, gentlemen," Bennett said.

Summer heard a shuffle of feet and was poised to run
for the stairs, but none of the footsteps approached the door. "Good
Lord!"

"Indeed," Glasse chuckled. "Several of
them were delivered to me just this past week. They are incredible spyglasses,
gentlemen. To anyone watching—or searching—the
Caledonia
will appear as nothing more
than a peak on a wave on the horizon. To Commodore Winfield and to Captain
Ashton-Smythe—whom we now welcome eagerly to the ranks—the
Chimera
will be plain enough to count
the rings on her masts."

"By Jove!"

Bennett laughed. "My father-in-law has just
discovered how exceptional the view is. . . . May I draw your attention to the
upper windows of Madame LaRose's fine establishment."

There were more eager laughs and ribald remarks, then
the sound of crystal kissing crystal, and Glasse's voice rose above the noise.

"I toast our success, both on land and at
sea."

Summer released her pent-up breath and moved away from
the doorway. She hurried up the winding staircase to the south wing and did not
slow her pace until she was safely in her sitting room with the door firmly
shut behind her. She pulled off her gloves and untied her bonnet, flinging both
on a nearby chair. She draped her shawl over the armrest and walked wearily to
the cushioned window seat.

Her husband was laying a trap to follow and capture
Morgan Wade. She knew the
Caledonia's
sea trials had been impressive.
 
Her firepowder was awesome, her speed and
handling at peak efficiency. Bennett was making no attempt to disguise the fact
that he wanted to be the one who brought Morgan Wade to justice. From the tone
of his voice, she knew this was his plan. His and Glasse's.

Justice? What kind of justice was there in setting a
trap? If they planned to let the French take the blame, it meant they expected
to leave no witnesses behind to testify otherwise. No witnesses meant no
prisoners, despite Bennett's earlier claim that he would see a fair trial for
them all.

Thorny, Stuart Roarke, Mr. Phillips . . . they had all
shown her kindness in one way or another. Even Mr. Monday had followed Wade
into the currents off the channel when she and Michael had foolishly attempted
to swim ashore.

And Morgan Wade.

Summer closed her eyes and leaned her brow on the cool
wall. Try as she might, she could not hate him. She could not forget him
either, and now, if anything, the memory would grow stronger each day. He could
have left her to drown. He could have abandoned her on Saint Martin. He could
have let the currents deal with her and perhaps saved his ship in the minutes
it took to swim out to her and Michael. But he didn't. Did that now mean she
owed him more than what she was already paying?

Summer's eyes widened, and she gazed slowly down at
the soft outline of her belly. She felt it again: a startled, struggling
flicker, like a butterfly beating its wings against a pane of glass.

"What can I do? There is nothing I can do to
help! There is nothing I
should
do to help!"

The flutter became stronger, angrier.

"Damn you, Morgan Wade," she whispered.
"Damn you!"

She whirled at the sound of footsteps approaching her
room. Bennett came through the door a moment later and hesitated on the
threshold. He glanced at the bonnet and gloves on the chair, then at the
window.

"Back so early? Did you leave anything in the
shops?"

"I
...
I
was at the dressmaker's."

"And?"

She turned away. "And she said the gowns I
ordered would take another week or so."

"A week? Then it's a shame I won't be here to see
them. I'm taking the
Caledonia
out on patrol again. Something has come up, and I'll
be leaving at dawn."

He closed the door and stood watching her expectantly.

"I heard voices when I came in," she said
coolly. "Was that the 'something that came up'?"

Bennett folded his arms across his chest. "You
did not care to join us?"

"Not especially. I heard that awful man's voice
and walked straight past."

"Farley Glasse?"

"I am surprised Father
continues to allow him in the house."

"He was here by my
invitation," Bennett pointed out quietly.

"You don't find him
offensive?"

"To tell you the truth"—he snapped the gold
buttons fastening his collar and thrust a finger down to loosen it—"he is
more of a bore than anything else. But he knows what he wants—and what I
want—and he wastes no time on pretensions, as you noted once before."

Summer averted her eyes.

"You said you overheard us talking," he
continued easily. "Exactly what did you hear?"

"Not much," she said and then faced him.
"Only that you are going out after Morgan Wade again."

Bennett's mouth curved down. "And the thought
distresses you?"

"Bennett, please . . ." She sighed.

"Does it disturb you to talk about him? You seem
able enough to defend him in front of others; why not me?"

"I don't defend him," she argued.

"You don't go out of your way to condemn the man
either . . . considering."

"Considering what?" she snapped. "Say
it, Bennett. For God's sake, just say it! Don't keep tormenting me with your
horrid little smiles and bits of sarcasm. I did not invite his attentions—he
raped me! Why can't you believe that?"

"Oh, I believe it. I would have found it
impossible to believe if he hadn't. You are a beautiful woman, Summer.
Beautiful and highly desirable. Any man with half an appetite would have had
you beneath him before the seawater dried. I myself was sorely tempted to
deliver you of your innocence back in London . . . and perhaps I should have,
garden party or no. At least I would have had the satisfaction of knowing I
cheated Wade out of something."

Summer clasped her hands tightly together.
"Please—"

"Instead I have this," Bennett carried on,
noting the white lips and the downcast eyes. "I have something I cannot
see and cannot fight cropping up in my bed at night. Well, I will not tolerate
it, madam. If it takes a killing to purge his shadow, then so be it."

"Why did you marry me?" she asked with a
shiver. "If you knew what happened on the
Chimera . . .
why did you insist on going
ahead with the marriage? I offered you the choice. I offered to release you
from your promise."

Bennett leaned casually against the wall. "I
suffered under the misguided notion that you might thank me for it one day. You
did not appreciate the gesture?"

"Gesture?" she whispered. "Was that all
it was to you?"

"Good heavens, no," he said and smiled.
"Your father added fifty thousand pounds and clear title to the Dover cane
plantation."

Summer's gray eyes registered shock. Dover was one of
the richest plantations on the island. It produced almost a quarter of the
total sugarcane crop for Barbados . . . and it had supposedly been designated
as part of Michael's inheritance.

"Don't look so horrified, my dear. You should
know by now that your father does not stand on ceremony. Ambition and greed go
hand in hand in life. I have a great deal of the one, and your father has the
profits to show for the other."

"What are you trying to say?"

He moved away from the wall. "Marrying the
governor's daughter and acquiring one of the more profitable tracts of land in
Barbados has assured me of a comfortable future. Having a naval
officer—hopefully an admiral, in short order— as a son-in-law all but ensures
your father's position here in the islands. His fortunes have not all been
amassed by, shall we say,
ethical
means." He stopped, and the smile became slightly
mocking. "That isn't to say I do not feel any attraction to you, my dear.
I do. You seep into one's blood and make a man almost forget his priorities in
life."

Summer stared at Bennett, astounded that he could be
making such admissions so calmly, so totally without reserve, when it was
partially because he continued to act the role of injured party that she was
still plagued by guilt.

"You were the one who wanted the truth," he
murmured. "And I might remind you I was not the only one who was offered
the opportunity to refuse the arrangements."

"No," she said, finally finding her voice.
"No, you were not. But you should have told me about your ambitions from
the start. It might have made us both feel less like fools."

"I doubt it. I still would have had this
husbandly need to see Wade out of my bed and stretching by his neck at a
yardarm."

Summer was prepared to cast a scathing retort his way
but faltered when she saw his hands begin to free the buttons down the front of
his tunic. Her mouth went dry and her heartbeat thudded to a standstill.

"What do you think you are doing?"

His smile broadened. "Bidding farewell to my
wife, of course. I shall be absent from the warmth of your bed for some time. .
. . I would be remiss in my duties if I were to depart without leaving you with
fond memories. And now that we have cleared the air, so to speak, there will be
no more need to carry on this little sham of righteousness you have been
striving to uphold. If there is something extra you need by way of. . .
inspiration
...
I would be happy to
oblige. My own pleasures have been somewhat hampered of late by your refusal to
. . . relax."

"You are contemptible," she said, rising
from the seat and starting to walk past him. His hand slashed out and wrapped
cruelly around her arm.

"And you, madam? You find nothing slightly
contemptible in a wife who cries out for another man in her husband's
bed?"

"It happened once," she said from between
clenched teeth. "Only once. And I believe I have paid for it a hundred
times over."

"Maybe so. Then again, maybe it will take a
thousand times for me to forget." He pulled her toward him, and his mouth
crushed down on hers.

"Bennett, please—" She struggled against
him, but his grip held firm, and she could feel him tugging at the cloth of her
bodice. "Please, be reasonable."

"Reasonable?" His blond head came up, and
there was an ominous gleam behind his eyes. "I am the most reasonable man
you could have hoped for, my love. I have taken your spoiled nature and your
petulance with some humor. I have tolerated your moods and your grand
silences—not to mention the frigid martyrdom you oblige me with in your
bed."

"You have never given me cause to offer anything
but," she cried angrily, pushing free of his embrace. "You strut into
the room and say nothing. You make no attempt at tenderness or
understanding—you simply take what you want, however you want, and expect me to
feel grateful for the service. Well, sir, the only gratitude I feel is when you
leave my bed in the morning."

She whirled around and walked to the door. The latch,
when she rattled it, did nothing, and she turned to find Bennett standing in
the same place, holding up a hand to show the key looped around one finger.

"Is this what you are looking for?"

"Unlock this door at once," she ordered
calmly.

"I don't believe I will," he said quietly.
"Not until you and I reach an understanding."