Captive Embraces (16 page)

A forced smile tightened on Regan's lips. He could do worse than a lovely, young, fair-skinned heiress, couldn't he? And he'd already told Sirena that he intended to marry. Well, perhaps it was a bit before the fact. He knew instinctively that Sir Stephan would welcome the alliance. As for Camilla, he would swear she was hot for him. Besides, what better way to protect himself from Sirena's allure than to be a happily married man?

Sirena collapsed in the coach, heart-racking sobs engulfing her body. Jacobus cradled her in his thin, sinewy arms and let her cry. He cursed the Dutchman silently and wished him a slow, painful death. Poor Capitana. There was no need for her to suffer so. If this was what dry land was going to do to the crew and captain of the
Sea Spirit,
then it would be best to return to sea. He knew in his heart that the Capitana would never depart as long as the Dutchman was here in this hellhole known as London. He made a mental note to speak to Jan and the other crew members and see if they could think of something that would ease the Capitana's anguish. Love was for fools, he reasoned. The sea and ship were his only loves. They didn't break your heart. If he ever went over the side he would go straight to the bottom and not fight the inevitable. He would rest in his watery grave, in the arms of his only true love, the restless sea.

Pale sunshine was streaking the sky when the carriage finally stopped at Sirena's new home. Inside her room, with the door closed, Sirena looked about like a trapped animal. Why had she said what she did to Regan? Where had all her good intentions gone? What had possessed her to threaten him the way she did? Because he hurt me, she cried silently. He rejected me. He plans to marry again. I had to do what I did. I couldn't let him see how he hurt me, I just couldn't let him see.

Anger abruptly shot up her spine and flushed her cheeks. Regan had ruined everything. Now, as before, it was up to her to do something. She raised her eyes to the heavens. Oh, God, I love him. I want him back. I want him to love me. The niggling voice returned. He loves another.

“In a pig's eye!” The ornate, feminine dressing table suddenly found itself leaning haphazardly against the wall, the decanters of cologne and perfume spilling over the thick carpet. A sliver of mirror and a hairbrush smashed against the door and landed in a heap side by side. Down came the draperies as her fist shot through a pane of glass. She looked in wide-eyed wonder at the slim scratch which ran the length of her thumb. She lashed out at the bed and ripped the coverlet and threw it across the room. Her hand found the andiron by the fireplace and she set about whacking whatever fell into her path. “Get rid of me like one of your foul cigars, will you? Marry somebody else, will you? I've ruined you before and I'll do it again. I'll make you pay for what you've done to me!” she screeched. “You married me. You're mine!” she screamed as Frau Holtz rushed into the room, Jacobus behind her.

They looked about at the devastation and quietly closed the door. There was nothing they could do. The Mevrouw had to work things out for herself. She wouldn't thank them for interfering in her rampage. “No,” the housekeeper said to Jacobus, “there is nothing for us to do. The Mevrouw will make a decision and she will live with it.”

On the Pall Mall, near Charing Cross, the townhouse of the Baron and Baroness Sinclair presided over the affluent neighborhood. The heavy fog which had descended upon London had all but obscured the impeccably tended garden which made passersby pause to enjoy its symmetry and formal landscaping. It seemed to those who had occasion to walk by frequently that the Sinclair garden boasted continually blooming flora regardless of the season. This was mostly due to the efforts and foresight of the Baroness Helen Sinclair herself, who was now tapping her foot impatiently on the library floor and piercing her husband, Baron Charles, with a steely look.

“One would think Tyler would be here to welcome us back to London after our holiday in the country.”

“Perhaps the boy had pressing business at the office and he hasn't realized the lateness of the hour. Besides, this weather brought traffic almost to a standstill,” Baron Charles said quietly.

The Baroness looked down her long, aristocratic nose and frowned. “When are you going to stop defending Tyler? He's no longer a boy, but an eligible man. You've been too indulgent for too long,” she criticized. “How many times have I warned you that he requires a strong hand.”

“My dear,” the Baron sighed, “on the one hand you tell me he's no longer a boy and on the other you advise me to take a strong hand with him. Every young man must sow his wild oats before he settles down and it will serve to make him a better husband. I was allowed a few oats in my day and haven't I made you a good husband?” The Baron winked at her roguishly, hoping to erase the frown from her face.

“Yes, you've been wonderful,” the Baroness answered honestly. “But, Charles, a few oats are one thing. The rascal is sowing an entire field! It has to stop; his reputation is beginning to suffer and then where will he be? We must step in and take a firm hand just the way we did when he was smitten with Camilla Langdon. You must admit, Charles, that if we hadn't stepped in at that time he would have married that snippet.”

“Now, now, Helen, I don't think Tyler's reputation will be damaged. You must admit he's more enterprising than those ridiculous fops who walk the halls of Whitehall hoping to be invited to the King's Court. Tyler is a respectable businessman, just as I was.”

“True,” the Baroness reluctantly conceded, “he does have that. But you must admit it was only because we insisted upon him doing something with his life that he read for the Law. Just as your father insisted you do. It was a wise move on our part and I thank God for it. But it doesn't excuse Tyler from his social behavior. You can't have forgotten how frantic we were when he insisted he wanted to marry that scheming little Camilla!”

“He was immature then. Surely, you can understand his attraction to the young lady. She was and still is a beautiful woman.”

“A poor woman. A poor relation!” the Baroness spit. “And to think I brought her into our home along with that ne'er-do-well father of hers, Stephan Langdon.”

“My dear wife, Camilla's impoverished state is something she cannot help,” the Baron pointed out kindly.

“I expected you to say that,” Helen sniffed. “Camilla and her father are
your
relatives. And don't tell me you haven't been paying their bills! Why couldn't you send them away somewhere where they wouldn't be a constant threat of embarrassment?”

“In truth now, my dear, where could I send them? Camilla would just pine away for London's society and Stephan would literally die if he were away from his clubs and gaming houses. I can't take the responsibility for their lives. If all it takes is an occasional loan and I have it to give, where's the harm? I consider the matter closed.” Charles' tone indicated this was an old argument which had been worked over time and again between himself and the Baroness, and both stood firmly and intractably in their feelings toward the Langdons.

“Very well,” the Baroness agreed. “But one last thing, Charles. Is it true what I hear about Camilla and that Dutchman keeping serious company with each other? Van der Rhys is his name, I believe. I certainly hope it is. Then I can rest easy knowing that Tyler will have to put her out of his mind once and for all.”

“I heard it said at the club that Stephan himself was boasting of the wealthy Dutchman's interest in his daughter. Another source close to Camilla said she is already selecting her trousseau.”

The Baroness' face brightened and her blue eyes sparkled at her husband's words. She patted her carefully coiffed hair and smiled. “That means Tyler is safe until some other designing female gets her hooks into him. I believe I'll have a small sip of wine, dear, my throat feels dry. Perhaps it will ease my annoyance over Tyler. We will wait exactly fifteen minutes and if he hasn't arrived, we'll dine without him.”

“The hour isn't that late, dear. Tell me, have you heard anything more about this van der Rhys. I know the ladies are forever gossiping behind their hands when an acceptable man comes to town. Every mother within miles will be trying to rid herself of her marriageable daughters.”

“We have spoken on the subject,” the Baroness remarked coyly. “Actually, there is not much to discuss. He's a handsome brute and seems to be making success in his importing-exporting enterprise. I'm given to believe he's quite wealthy and is considered very, very eligible. Lady Constance told me, when she came to call, that he was received socially and has been invited to every social function that was held while we were away on holiday. She said the men hold him in respect and the women fawn over him.”

The Baroness turned her attention to her round-faced husband. It was true what he had said. He did make a good husband and he was an excellent father, even if somewhat indulgent. Of late, however, he was becoming forgetful, and he could ramble on for hours of things that had happened in the past She reached over and patted his hand affectionately.

“I think I hear Tyler now,” the Baron said smiling. He rose from his chair to greet his exuberant son and clasped him firmly on the shoulder.

“Welcome home, Mother,” Tyler said, leaning to kiss her powdered cheek. “I had some pressing details at the office, else I would have been home earlier. ”Señorita Córdez arrived yesterday. I'll be dining with her tomorrow to go over business affairs. Now tell me, how was your holiday?”

“We missed you,” the Baroness sniffed elaborately. “One would think you could have driven out to see us at least once.”

Tyler winked at his father. “Mother, I toiled in my offices from sunup to sundown and came home to fall exhausted into bed only to start over again the next day. The Córdez affairs have taken so much of my time I've done little else. And, Father, there is something I'd like to discuss with you after dinner.”

“Does it concern the Señorita Córdez?”

“Yes, her affairs are in fine shape and there's an abundance of capital which must be invested. That is what I'd like to discuss.”

“Tyler, did the Señorita approve of the house and the furnishings?” the Baroness asked inquisitively.

“She was effusive in her praise, Mother. She asked me to tell you she would call as soon as possible to thank you herself. She's quite a remarkable woman.”

“In what way,” Baroness Helen asked.

“Well, for one thing, she's beautiful. She is every inch a lady and, as you already know, extremely wealthy. She is intelligent, forthright and I think, Mother, you will grow fond of Sirena.”

“Oh, Sirena, is it?” the Baron chuckled.

Tyler correctly interpreted his mother's look and immediately reassured her. “Mother, have no fear. I have no plans of marriage for the present or in the near future. In fact, I'll go one step further and assure you that I'll never marry.”

“That is a rash statement, Tyler,” his father said, frowning.

“You can't mean it,” the Baroness gasped.

Tyler laughed, a low, husky sound which pleased his mother. “I have no desire to marry. And why should I? I have quite a choice among London's most desirable young women. It would be a pleasure to give each and every lady the benefit of knowing me and appreciating my charms. Rest easy, Mother,” Tyler amended, “I'll be careful not to tarnish my reputation beyond redemption.”

“If what you said is true, Tyler, then I have no hope of grandchildren to daddle on my knee and fuss over.”

“Somehow you do not strike me as the grandmotherly type. However, I can always change my mind.”

The Baroness sent her son a slanted look and told him not to be too hasty in his decisions. “Perhaps one day the right girl will come along and you'll know what to do.”

Tyler laughed and linked his arm through her's as he led the way into the dining room, winking again at the Baron.

At that moment the Baron would have given up his entire fortune to be Tyler's age again, with London's society at his feet.

After dinner, Tyler followed his father into the leather-furnished library and settled himself with a glass of port. His eyes scanned the massive shelves as he slouched into the deepness of the chair. The Baron held out a fragrant cigar and, after both men lit up, Tyler spoke. “Father, what do you think of my investing some of Sirena's capital in Ireland? I'm told there is a great demand for linens and laces. I was thinking of taking a trip there to investigate the business. Perhaps Sirena would like to go and observe first hand what her money would be vested in. I plan to broach the matter with her tomorrow. If my calculations are correct, she could double her investment in a year's time. Providing we can import according to schedule.”

“It sounds like a wise selection to me. I've looked into it myself, as a matter of fact. Perhaps you could make a few investments for me while you are there. At any rate, you seem to have worked it out, although possibly the woman may not want to make the voyage to Ireland.”

“It's only a matter of a week's sailing, winds prevailing. What concerns me is her husband, pardon, ex-husband. The animosity between those two is so thick you could slice it with a knife. My guts tell me he's not a man to be pushed or coerced and that's exactly what this arrangement he made with Señor Arroya is doing.”

“And the other investments? How are they faring?” the Baron asked, blowing a fragrant, blue-gray cloud of smoke into the center of the room.

“Much better than I expected. However, there is a problem. Her affairs take every moment of my time. I'll have to find an associate. I've already asked about for referrals. All I can do for the time being is wait and see.”

“You still haven't told me your opinion of this Spanish señorita,” Charles noted shrewdly.

“She's a woman held in tight control, but her emotions are not far under the surface. I sensed this almost at once. Sirena is a most gracious lady, and I'm certain I'll enjoy getting to know her better. I believe she is still in love with her former husband, but I'm just as certain she would deny it vehemently.”

“Your mother told me that Lady Constance informed her that Camilla Langdon is on the verge of betrothal with van der Rhys. Have you heard this, Tyler?”

Tyler's dark eyes held no answer for his father. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I knew they were seeing a great deal of one another. Don't concern yourself, Father. To Camilla, wealth is all important, and van der Rhys is far from being impoverished.”

“You've had dealings with the man. If his former wife is still enamored of him as you suspect, what are his feelings for her?”

“I've no idea, actually. If he does become betrothed to Camilla, I can only assume that he does not share Sirena's feelings. I really don't know why they divorced. Sirena is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. Whatever the reason, it must have been quite serious, van der Rhys is a bitter man.”

“And, you, Tyler, what's to become of you? You're a constant cause for your mother's concern. When are you going to settle down and raise a family. You've a brilliant mind, don't waste it. Curtail this wild, reckless life you seem determined to live and give the ladies in London a rest. I'll wager there are few you haven't bedded. And, mark my words, someday one of their husbands will thirst for your blood.”

Tyler chucked. “Father, I've slept with my share. When I take a bride, I certainly hope she isn't a virgin. I find them tiresome. There's nothing I like less than dealing with false modesty and the chore of teaching a foolish, giddy young girl the ways of the bedroom is too time-consuming. By the time she's learned her lessons, you've gotten bored with her and she is free to give some other man the benefits of her education. Don't you agree?”

Baron Charles tried to look urbane and sophisticated. It was difficult when he had only bedded one woman in his entire lifetime. And at times the Baroness left much to be desired. All the stories of his wild and willful youth were simply that, stories. “Yes, yes, quite right, son, virgins are tiresome indeed.”

“And if one of my wild oats should suddenly take sprout, then I'll deliberate the consequences. For now, I'm content with things as they are.”

Baron Sinclair looked at his son and thought he saw a sadness in the depths of his brown eyes. Yes, it was definitely there. Charles sighed inaudibly. So, it still pained Tyler to think of what might have been with Camilla.

 

Sirena had dressed and was ready for Tyler Payne Sinclair's arrival for dinner. The topaz gown she wore complemented her ivory skin and deepened the color of her eyes. She had arranged her hair in a thick coil at each side of her head and a pearl shell comb took on a special lustre against the gleaming black locks. She knew she looked attractive and knew that Tyler would appreciate her toilette this evening. A man is a man, she thought smugly. A pretty face, a show of flesh and they fall at a woman's feet.