Captive Embraces (42 page)

“True, but then I don't care anymore and you do. I'm a man and you're a woman and that makes a big difference.”

“What do you want; why are you here? I'll have Regan pay you back the money you advanced me. I'll see to it today.”

“That's not what I want.”

Camilla giggled. “Are you saying you want me? How gallant! I was always fond of you, Tyler, you know that. I even married you. That should prove something to you.”

“It proves something, all right. It proves you married me for what you thought you could get. You and your father both thought my parents would relent about my inheriting if I married before I was twenty-five. When they didn't, you left me, convincing me you would wait for me. You lied, Camilla. You always lie. I know you for exactly what you are.”

“And you still want me? That doesn't say much for you, does it, Tyler?” Her voice became soft; there was a shine in her pansy eyes and a tear fell on her cheek. “You know the worst about me and you still want me.” She reached up and her delicate white hands pulled his head down to hers. “Come here, Tyler, let me hold you close.”

“Why couldn't you have waited just a little longer?” he groaned as she brought her lips to his.

Camilla drew out of his embrace and looked into his eyes. Her breathing was loud in the silence of the room. “I couldn't wait, Tyler. I want it now. You're no good for me. We both know it. You loathed coming here, I can see it in your eyes. In your own way, you're the most honorable man I've ever known. You hate yourself for wanting me. We both agreed to forget our marriage; no one needed to know, we told each other. We were free.”

“You mean you were free of me to hook another fish on your line,” he muttered. “You're right about one thing, though. I do hate myself for loving you. If you can bed van der Rhys and his son, then you can spread the wealth a little further. For me, Camilla,” he said in a husky tone, finding her lips with his own. “I need you, Camilla. I'll always need you.”

His hands slipped the nightdress from her shoulders and soon they were naked together, beside one another, his eyes devouring the purity of her form and the silkiness of her skin. Gently, he ran his fingers through her wealth of golden hair. How he loved the satin feel against his hands and cheek. For a time he held her tight, simply enjoying the nearness of her. He felt her breasts grow taut with desire, and he drew in his breath, relishing the clean, sweet smell of her.

Camilla stretched out, leaning closer to him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers as she pressed her slimness against him. Shivering with his hot breath on her neck, she answered his light, teasing kisses and offered him her throat, her breasts. His hands were practiced and sensual and they moved over her, caressing each curve. She found herself moving to the rhythm he initiated and felt herself take wing and soar. All the forgotten sensations coursed through her as she brought her hands down his back, feeling the strength of his muscles and the smoothness of his skin.

She felt her buttocks being lifted slightly as he began a series of sensual thrusts. Frenzied, she arched her back to meet each wave of passion. Lightning and thunder rolled across the sky as she burst internally time and time again till she didn't know if the storm outside her window could excel the tumult within her.

An eternity later Tyler leaned on one elbow and looked deeply into Camilla's eyes. “Tell me you've enjoyed anyone more than me. Tell me you haven't missed my caresses and my arms holding you. You're mine, Camilla. You belong to me,” he groaned as he buried his face between her breasts.

Camilla stroked his dark head. “You know I've never found anyone like you, Tyler. I still love you, will always love you. But I can't go hungry! I won't! There are other things I want from life, Tyler. Things you can't give me, can never give me if your parents disinherit you. If I could have those and you, too, I'd go with you in a moment.”

Tyler's head jerked upright. “Do you mean that? Is it only wealth that stands between us? I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of, Camilla.” His voice was low and steady; she believed every word he said. As she crushed his head to her breast, she wished she could be a different kind of person. She wished she could tell him money be damned, the only thing that mattered was being with him. But she wasn't strong enough, she just couldn't do it.

Tyler's fingers wound through her blond hair. “I'll have you yet, Camilla; do you know that?”

For answer, she lifted his head and brought her mouth to his. “Make love to me, Tyler. Again and again,” she whispered throatily.

 

When Sirena awoke that morning, she felt better than she had in weeks. She remembered exactly where she was and what had transpired between herself and Stephan the night before. She was herself again; she had stood up to Stephan; he could bully and threaten her no more. Turning over, she felt Wren's slight, warm body beside hers. God, when she thought of what could have happened to the child. Why hadn't she or Frau Holtz been aware of what the little girl was suffering?

She looked down at the sweet sleeping face and silently begged forgiveness. How in heaven could she have been so incredibly foolish? She knew what kind of man Stephan was, she knew he was bordering on the insane. Poor little Wren, when Stephan couldn't satisfy himself by torturing his wife, he had turned his terrifying tactics on her.

That was all behind them now. All Sirena had to do was keep her wits about her and she could leave it all behind. She would tell Frau Holtz this morning that she would adhere to her plan to leave England. Two more days and she, Wren and Frau Holtz would be free of Stephan Langdon.

Sirena climbed from the bed, careful not to waken the child. She dressed quietly and, in her mind, listed which belongings she would take with her when the
Sea Spirit
sailed out of port.

Could she leave without seeing Regan for one last time? She must. She faced in her heart she would never see him again. When they found her gone, Caleb would tell Regan of his visit to her. Tears stung her eyes when she thought of Caleb.

Her head began to ache and she rubbed cologne on her temples in an effort to abate the pounding. There were things to be done but she didn't think she had the energy or the stamina. She had been her own prisoner since Stephan had brought her back from Bedlam. She had been unable to conduct even the most mundane affairs of everyday living. She hadn't been eating correctly, sending the trays back to the kitchen barely touched. She was weak and much too thin. But, last night had changed all of that. Stephan had robbed her of the will to fight for herself, but he hadn't counted on her deep, maternal feelings for Wren and didn't know she would fight like a tigress protecting her cub.

Sirena descended the stairs to the dining room and made short work of her breakfast. She would need every bit of strength. She was relieved Stephan had left early for his classes at the academy but she knew he would join her for luncheon. He wouldn't want the happenings of the night before to reinforce her will if he could possibly help it.

No sooner had she finished her meal when she heard the sound of the doorpull and a few moments later Frau Holtz ushered Tyler Sinclair into the dining room. She saw the old woman, who as yet knew nothing of the events of the night before, look at her empty plate with pleased amazement.

Sirena's face brightened. “Tyler, how nice of you to come and see me, in spite of my husband's orders to the contrary. What a miserable day to visit, though. I don't know how you English abide this weather. Even in summer the fog rolls in and cloaks the city for days at a time.”

“I suppose I'm accustomed to it. When you don't know anything else, it is easy to live with.”

“You should visit the Spice Islands, Tyler: You would love it there and never want to leave. Warm, gentle breezes the whole year through, sparkling clear blue water. Smiling, happy people. Slow, easy living. A peaceful atmosphere to live in. Do yourself a favor, visit the East Indies someday. You'll never want to leave.”

“Sirena, I came here to talk to you about a matter of importance. To me,” he amended. “Listen and don't interrupt before you make a decision. I need money, Sirena. A lot of it.”

Sirena's face fell into perplexed lines. She never remembered hearing Tyler sound so serious and, as she listened to him, her expression became incredulous.

“If you help me,” Tyler said, “I can promise you a clear road back to Regan. Don't ask me how I can make such a promise, but believe me when I tell you it is so. At the same time I will take care of your current husband so that he never bothers you again.”

“Tyler, what is it? How can you make me such rash promises? Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her eyes were large and full of shock at his desperate words and at the wild look he projected. “Tell me,” she said softly.

“I don't know how to ask you this,” Tyler hedged.

“Just say it, Tyler,” Sirena said impatiently.

Tyler blurted, “I want us to go to sea and be partners. I want us to sail the seas and be pirates. That's the only way I can get enough money for what I ... Will you do it, Sirena? Believe me, I wouldn't ask if there was any other choice open to me.”

Sirena's mind raced. “Are you saying ... do you expect me ... Tyler, that's piracy!” she said virtuously. “Outright thievery!”

“Exactly!” Tyler beamed. “I knew you would understand. Will you do it?”

Sirena's mind continued to race. “Tell me why and then I'll let you know my answer. You know, Tyler, piracy is not a matter to take lightly. You could hang by the neck if you're caught and then what good would all the monies and cargoes be to you. I, for one, have no desire to be executed.”

“Don't you want Regan back?” Tyler asked, his eyes moist and pleading.

“And if I agree to your plan, then you can guarantee that?” She shook her head. “If I get Regan back, if it's meant to be, then I will do it myself. I do appreciate your offer, but I fail to see how you can help me,” Sirena said sarcastically.

“Sirena, I give you my word.”

“Tyler, what do you take me for? Piracy is a dangerous business. I told you I have no wish to hang by the neck.”

“You miss the sea; you hate your husband and you're in fear of him and you want Regan. If you do as I ask, then you will have everything you want. Help me,” he pleaded.

Sirena was torn by the look in the man's eyes. She ached to give him some form of comfort. “If you would just tell me why, then—”

“I can't tell you, that's the problem. I've never begged for anything in my life, but I am now. You're the only person who can help me.”

“There's no need for you to grovel, Tyler. I'll help you, but not for the reasons you suggest. I'm leaving here in two days to take my housekeeper and crew back to Batavia. If you wish to sail with us, it will be your chance to see the Spice Islands. If we should come across any prosperous ships along the way ... well ... ,” she shrugged.

Tyler wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly on the cheek. “I knew you would help me. I just knew it. Stephan, does he know?”

“Of course not, and you must not give away our secret in any way.”

“Never!” Tyler yelled, outraged that she would suggest such a thing.

“Good. Take your baggage to the ship and be ready to sail at midnight the day after tomorrow. If you aren't on board at that time, we'll sail without you.”

“I'll be there, have no fear. Thank you, Sirena. But, Regan...”

“That's over and done with. Don't mention his name or bring him up to me again,” Sirena said coldly.

“Whatever you say,” Tyler agreed happily as he made his preparations to leave. “I think you just saved my life, lovely lady.”

“Don't count on it, Tyler. This could well be the beginning of the end of your life. And no recriminations later. I warned you, remember that.”

In his coach on his way home from the academy, Stephan Landgon passed Drury Lane and he thought about his daughter, Camilla. He was going to return home for luncheon but the prospect of seeing Sirena was far from attractive. He hadn't yet decided what to do about her sudden about-face into the old self-confidence and he was loath to have her get the better of him once more before he decided on a course of action. He should have taken the knife away from her last night and cut out her heart with it. He blanched, his ashen features a mask of consternation and fear. He knew in his heart he could never have taken the weapon out of her hand; she would have killed him with it first. His fingers sought the small wound on his neck and he remembered the feel of the sharp point held there. Wherever had she learned that unpleasant and dangerous tactic?

Rapping on the roof of the cab with the head of his walking stick, Stephan commanded his driver's attention, and gave directions to his former abode on Drury Lane. Rather than going home, he would join Camilla for lunch.

Several minutes later, Stephan disembarked, carrying his cane at a jaunty angle. He lifted the brass knocker and let it fall several times, annoyed and impatient with the servant's tardiness in answering. He must speak to Camilla about that When the door was finally opened by a flighty young maid with frizzy brown hair, he gave her a searing look and demanded to see his daughter.

In a flurry of activity and nervousness, the trembling maidservant showed him directly to the dining room where Camilla was enjoying a solitary meal. When she saw her father enter, she pointed to a place opposite her with her fork and continued eating.

“Really, Camilla, must you eat like a little cannibal? It is most unbecoming.”

Camilla shot him a venomous glance. They had never really repaired their disagreement of the night she had met Caleb. Her hostility for Stephan lay just beneath the surface of her civility. “At least I can't complain of not getting enough to eat, which is more than I could say when I looked to you for my welfare.” She pushed a sweet roll to her mouth and took an enormous bite, filling her cheeks like a greedy squirrel.

“Aren't you going to invite me to luncheon?” Stephan complained. “I was about to join my lovely wife when I decided it had been too long since I had you to myself.”

Camilla picked up the small silver bell resting near her plate and shook it. The tinkling sound brought a maid from the kitchen. “Service for my father,” she ordered. “Are there any more brandied peaches in the kitchen?”

Stephan snorted indignantly as he watched Camilla tear into her broiled trout. “Where have you been, daughter?” he asked after he had been served. “I swear it's been days since I've seen you.”

“If you mean you haven't seen me aboard your favorite gambling folly, that's right. You haven't. I've been there but you haven't been able to pick your eyes off the faro table long enough to see me.”

“Don't sound so peeved, Camilla. It's not becoming. Besides, faro is a game of concentration, and I must admit I've been taking a trouncing lately. If I don't keep my wits about me, I'll lose my shirt.”

Camilla stopped chewing long enough to say, “Perhaps you will be asked to remove your shirt before anyone will play against you, father. Even cheating doesn't seem to insure your winning.”

“So, it would appear you still visit your young admirer. Caleb van der Rhys, isn't it? You're hardly the one to talk about scruples. Has it ever occurred to you your relationship with that young man is nearly incestuous? You are his stepmother. Really, darling,” he used the unctuous voice Camilla hated, “your behavior is not motherly, no, not motherly at all. Tsk, tsk,” he shook his head.

Camilla threw her flatware down on her plate. She was sick of his supercilious, superior attitude. “And just how is it a mother behaves? I wouldn't know, Father, since you saw to it
my
mother was taken from me. All these years I suspected; I even heard whispers among the relatives and from Tyler, but I never believed it. I believe it now! You killed my own mother! You had her sent to Bedlam and she died there!” Once into her tirade, Camilla found it difficult to control herself. She hadn't known she was going to say this. She hadn't even known she had harbored these feelings toward Stephan until the words were finally out.

“I didn't kill your mother,” Stephan hastened to explain. “She died of an illness in the Bethlehem Royal Hospital. She was very ill.” His face flushed and he stammered. He had never known Camilla was aware of her mother's fate much less that he had been the cause of it.

“So, Bethlehem Royal Hospital, is it now? Do you think it sounds better than what it really is, Bedlam? Why even the name is synonomous with insanity. My mother was not a lunatic!” she screamed. “Mother was sick and dispirited, she had given up hope.
You
drove her to madness in the end. You did!”

Stephan stepped around the table and clutched his daughter by the arms. “Hush your mouth, Camilla,” he hissed. “Do you want the servants to hear?”

“I don't care if the whole world hears me!” she bellowed, standing up and wrestling free of his grasp. “You killed her!”

Stephan struck her full force in the face and Camilla reeled, holding her hand to her injury. Her tone low and venomous, she spat, “I despise you! Do you know that? I hate you! I hate you for what you've done to me all these years. First, you took my mother away and then you convinced me to desert my marriage to Tyler. Then you offered me like a piece of goods to any oncomers who were rich enough to interest you. You sold me to Regan, into a loveless marriage. And now you dare to chastise me for finding a little diversion with Caleb. Well, it's over, Father. It's finally over. You've had too much influence over my life. I did things I never wanted to do because you told me to do them. I don't like the woman I am, Father, and I mean to change! And when I do, it will go the worse for you. I promise you that!”

Stephan staggered backward. Camilla had never spoken this way to him. She had always acquiesced to his wishes. They had been more than father and daughter, they had been partners. It was all true what she said, but to hear her say it with such hatred rocked the foundations of his life.

“And I'll tell you another thing, Father,” she spat the word as though it were a disease. “I plan to right situations. For one thing, I'm going to tell Regan exactly what we did to him, how we lured him into marrying me. If my guess is right, he'll be relieved to be rid of me. And then I'm going to Tyler on bended knee and beg him to take me back. I don't care if he's rich or poor, I love him; I've always loved him.” She waited for her words to sink in. She picked up Stephan's hat and walking stick from the sideboard where he had put them and handed them to him. “And may I tell you, Father, when word reaches the Baron and Baroness of how great a part you took in this whole sordid affair, I hesitate to think of what the Baron will do. You may have married a rich wife and have money to burn, but it won't get you into polite society.”

Stephan was nearly out of his head with rage. “You would do that, wouldn't you? Bitch!” he cried, raising his walking stick over his head to strike her down.

Camilla stood up to him unflinchingly, waiting for the blow to fall. But when Stephan saw the resolve in her face, he seemed to crumble like a dry leaf in a wind. His shoulders sagged and he looked suddenly older by twenty years.

“Go on, hit me! If it was good enough for my mother, it is good enough for me!” Stephan lowered his arm, the cane falling from his hand. “Get out of here and never come back!” she hissed. “And if you should pass me on the street, don't even glance my way! You're dead to me; I have no father!”

 

Camilla stepped lightly aboard the
Sea Siren,
delicately lifting her skirts to keep them from dragging in the soapy water being used to swab the decks. She avoided the neatly coiled rigging lines and hurried to Caleb's cabin. What she had to tell him was very important, and she couldn't lose her nerve. It was never easy to admit you were wrong.

She tapped lightly on the solid cabin door and Caleb answered it. He was in the process of shaving and still had lather on half his face. He smiled and bade her enter and went back to his mirror, stroking the straight razor over his face in smooth, practiced motions.

“Caleb, I've come to talk to you,” Camilla said, trying for his attention.

“Talk away, I'm listening.” He drew his mouth over to the side in a comical way and continued shaving.

“I'm afraid I've come to say good-bye, Caleb.” Her voice was soft and so girlish, at times Caleb found it difficult to believe she was a grown woman.

Caleb's throat constricted. Did she mean, could she mean, Regan had found them out? “This is so sudden, Camilla. What brought this about?” he asked, fearing the worst.

“If you mean has Regan discovered us, no. And he will never know.” Imperceptibly, Caleb's muscles relaxed.

“Then you must have some other reason—”

“Yes, yes I do,” she blurted. “It's because it's wrong. Everything in my life has been wrong and I mean to set it straight. I've wronged you, Caleb, and I've wronged Regan. I don't think I ever loved either of you. I ... I love someone else and have for a long time. Since I was a child, really. I'm going to make a life with him and I only thank God he still wants me.” She was nearly in tears, but they weren't the winsome, pathetic tears he had seen her shed in the past. These belonged to a woman ... a happy woman.

Caleb felt as though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. His conscience had been more than twinging him and he found it difficult to be in Regan's company. He would never really be absolved of the sin of bedding his father's wife, but he would try to make it up to Regan in every way he knew how.

“Do you plan to explain this to Regan?” he asked, coming near her and taking her hand in his. “What do you think he'll say? A divorce is difficult to obtain under English law, Camilla. Do you plan to desert him?”

“No ... no,” Camilla flushed. “You don't understand, Caleb. Those times I came crying to you that Regan was beastly ... well, it really wasn't true. Regan and I ... we used each other. We never loved each other and I'm certain he'll be glad to be rid of me.” She sobbed brokenly into her glove, but she persisted. Her tears were actually more from relief of at last telling the truth than from a broken heart. “As far as a divorce is concerned ... it won't be necessary. You see, Caleb,” she said, raising her pansy eyes to level with his, “I was already married when I married Regan. I'm counting on his being a gentleman about it.”

Married! Caleb's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. “Married!” he echoed his thoughts. “Were you crazy to try a stunt like that on my father! He could have snapped you in two with his bare hands!”

“I know!” Camilla cried hysterically.

“God, Camilla, I hate to think what he would do to you if he really loved you!”

“I know, I know!” she repeated, nodding her head, her brilliant yellow curls dancing.

“And about us? What was that farce? I thought you loved me!”

“Oh I did, Caleb, truly, please believe that,” she raised her eyes imploringly. “I never meant to hurt you; it's just that I love someone else more. I never have to pretend with him, he knows me exactly for what I am and, wonder of wonders, he loves me in spite of it all. Please try to understand, Caleb.”

Camilla was genuinely distressed and Caleb's heart went out to her. He patted her hand soothingly, murmuring words of encouragement After all, he could be generous about this whole thing, couldn't he? Think of what a pickle he'd be in if Camilla had decided it was Caleb she couldn't live without! “There, there, darling, don't cry. I'm certain my father will do whatever is right. If it is as you say, Regan will be more than generous about it all, I'm certain of it. Now, can you tell me who this lucky man is?”

Camilla smiled brightly and whispered, “He's the most wonderful man on this earth, Caleb, and perhaps you know him. It's Tyler Sinclair,” she beamed.

Caleb laughed. Tyler Sinclair! He laughed till the tears came to his eyes. He found it ridiculously funny that Camilla should think Tyler more a man than Regan! Suddenly, he sobered. Obviously, Camilla also thought Tyler more a man than himself!

 

An ominous undercurrent of excitement crept around the main room aboard the
Sea Siren.
Caleb felt it; Aubrey Farrington was aware of it and Stephan Langdon knew it also. Professional gamblers milled about, their eyes sharp, their shoulders squared as though they were marching into battle.

A chill washed over Caleb as his glance went back and forth between Regan and Langdon and then to the gamblers who were making ready to play. Purses of coins and gold guineas were placed on the green baize tabletop. Satisfied with their surroundings, they had placed themselves at the same table where Stephan was gambling recklessly against the house.

Farrington withdrew some silver from his pocket and worked his way through the crowd. His eyes sought Regan's as Regan, too, inched past the guests. Stephan stood, his money in his hand, oblivious to everything except the stacks of silver in the center of the table. If he knew he was playing against professionals, he gave no sign.

It was close to midnight when Stephan looked up from his dwindling supply of cash and noticed Regan and Aubrey Farrington. He glanced at his nearly depleted hoard and licked his dry lips. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Caleb walk from the table. His thoughts raced. It was now getting to be a matter of principle. He would not leave empty-handed. At best, he had another hour of play. His son-in-law was a fool and Farrington was little better. What could they do to him in a room full of guests? They had their reputation to think of. They knew as well as he that a scene would be regrettable.