Captive Splendors (3 page)

“Your Wren is a very determined young lady,” he went on, “and we've had to allow Weatherly admittance to see her. If we didn't, Wren announced that she would run off with him. What would you have had me do, Sirena? Right or wrong, I thought it best to keep her here till you arrived and took matters in your own . . . capable hands. God only knows what would become of her if she ran off with that fop. That's it,” he concluded, turning about, a high flush on his cheeks.

“Damn your eyes, Sinclair!” Regan roared. “I trust you with my daughter and look what happens! One small favor, that was all we asked, and you couldn't handle it! It's a damn good thing you aren't a parent!”

Tyler's eyes were tortured. “I know,” he said morosely, “but now I find that in a few short months I will be. All I can say is I'm sorry for this other news.”

Sirena leaned back in her chair, her eyes thoughtful. “It's not your fault, Tyler. I see how it happened, and you're right. Wren is an impressionable child—at least she was when she left us. I had hoped she would outgrow that quality as time passed. And it wasn't only I who filled her with tales of the Sea Siren. Frau Holtz allowed the child to cut her teeth on the tales of my derring-do. I place no blame on your shoulders, old friend, nor does Regan. Right now he's a trifle upset, but when he has time to think on the matter, he'll realize you are not responsible. We're at fault. It was a mistake to have sent her here at such an early age. She needed more guidance, more parental love. No, it is Regan and I who are to blame. What we have to do is to look at the matter calmly and arrive at some sort of solution. We cannot alienate Wren; we love her too much. A talk with the man of her choice will be in order, of course. Also a talk with her friend's parents. It is well that we arrived early to put all these matters straight, don't you agree, Regan?” Sirena touched him lightly on the hand.

Her light touch and calm voice worked their soothing magic on the irate Dutchman.

Regan's tone was brisk when he addressed Tyler. “A drink, Sinclair, to show that neither my wife nor I hold you responsible. We both know that Wren is capable of being wily. She's manipulated me on more than one occasion, and she was still a child at the time. I'm afraid that when it comes to women, we men are at their mercy.”

“That's damn white of you, van der Rhys,” Tyler said in a relieved tone. “If we put our heads together and really talk this out, we should be able to come up with a solution. She can't be permitted to marry that ass. If we start from there, we'll think of something. For now, why don't we enjoy our kippers?”

While Sirena and Regan breakfasted, Wren was getting dressed, her eyes wary as she watched Sara go about her morning ablutions. Sooner or later the articulate Sara would start to chastise her. The sooner she got on with it, the sooner she would be finished. Why did everyone think he or she had to expound on her affairs? The only one who seemed to be on her side was Camilla. Camilla said there was nothing more beautiful than young love. Camilla should know. Hadn't she loved Tyler from the time she was sixteen years old?

“Are you ready, Sara?” Wren asked quietly.

“Yes, and I'm famished. I hope Cook has prepared something extra special this morning.”

Evidently the voluble Sara wasn't going to say anything. Wren shrugged. Maybe Sara had finally realized that Wren wasn't going to pay any attention to her vicious comments about Malcolm. What could a straight-laced Puritan know about love anyway?

The two girls descended the wide, circular staircase, which was thickly carpeted in a deep burgundy and muffled their footsteps. Suddenly Wren put a finger to her lips to warn the other girl to be quiet. She frowned. The voices she heard sounded like Regan's and Sirena's. It couldn't be! They weren't due for another week . . . It was! With a sound akin to a war whoop, she raced down the remaining stairs, leaving a wide-eyed Sara behind. Catapulting into the dining room, she threw herself into Sirena's arms and hugged her with all her might. Satisfied that the living, breathing Sirena was no mirage, she extricated herself and turned to Regan.

His anguish of moments ago forgotten, Regan felt his face split into a grin as he clasped the laughing, happy girl to him.

Sirena watched the display of emotion between the two and felt sentimental tears smear her eyes.

“When did you get here? Why didn't you wake me? How long can you stay? Did Tyler tell you about Sara? It's so good to see you! I'm so happy,” Wren squealed delightedly. “Look, here is my friend Sara. Come.” She beckoned to the girl standing in the doorway.

The introductions completed and the girls seated with plates of food in front of them, Regan leaned back and lighted one of his cheroots, apologizing for smoking at the table. He wanted his cigar, and he didn't want to go into Tyler's library for fear he would miss something.

It was Sirena who took the initiative and spoke first. “Well, little one, it seems that Tyler's duties are coming to an end. Are you ready to return to the Spice Islands and make your home with us again? We've missed you.”

“Darling Sirena, do we have to discuss that now? I'm so happy just seeing the two of you that I don't want to talk about anything
except
the two of you. Tell me, how are the boys, and have you heard from Caleb?” If Wren noticed the tightness around Regan's mouth, she gave no sign as she filled her mouth with kippers.

“You won't recognize the boys,” he said. “They've grown so, I barely recognize them myself. Each is as fair as a staff of wheat, but with their mother's green eyes. Caleb is still shipping cargo for the Dutch East India Company and making a thriving show for his efforts. We have no complaints other than we've all missed our little girl and want her home with us so we can be a family again.”

Now, say it now, Wren, Sirena pleaded silently. Don't make it harder for Regan, for if you do, he may never forgive you. Be honest, little one. Do it now; say what has to be said now. Surely you must know that Tyler has told us of your plans.

Wren carefully avoided Sirena's eyes. “You've told me of everyone but Frau Holtz and Jacobus. How are they? How I've missed the Frau,” Wren sighed, smiling at Regan.

“You know that the Frau married Jacobus and made an honest man of the old sea salt. They're both well and send their regards and can barely contain themselves till your arrival.”

Say it, Sirena continued to beg silently. Wren continued to ignore her mother's silent thoughts.

It was obvious that Sara was embarrassed for her friend. She placed her napkin on the table and directed a pleading look at Tyler. Interpreting her gaze correctly, he rose and held out his hand. “If you'll excuse us, I promised to show Sara a book I purchased yesterday. She wants it as a gift for her father.”

Regan rose politely, and Sirena smiled at the departing girl. Wren was on her own, it appeared and would get no help from her friend, which was as it should be.

Silence. Each was waiting for the other to say something. The girl should know that Regan could outwait a tropical storm. Much squirming and downcast eyes did nothing for his disposition. He waited. Sirena waited. Wren swallowed hard and looked squarely at Regan. “Im sure that Tyler has told you. . .”

“Sirena and I would prefer that you tell us,” Regan said quietly. “Both of us are disappointed that you didn't see fit to write of your coming plans.”

“A letter wouldn't have reached you in time,” Wren cried miserably. “I know that you both must be disappointed, but sometimes these things happen. A woman meets a man and they fall in love. Isn't that what happened between you and Sirena? I can't help how I feel. I didn't want it to happen, but it did. I'm certain you'll both like Malcolm and that he will like you. He loves me dearly, and I think he will make me a fine husband. With your approval, of course,” she added hastily.

Sirena sat back and let Regan do the talking. He was so much better at handling Wren than she was. “First of all, young lady, Sirena and I were not boy and girl; we were man and woman. You're but a child compared with Sirena at your age. We sent you here for an education, not to have you fall head over heels for the first dandy who pays you any mind. The world is full of men like Malcolm Weatherly. We had hoped that an education would help you acquire a little judgment. Now we learn the headmistress expelled not only you but also your friend. Tell me, Wren, was it showing good judgment when you involved another in your escapades? Think of how Sara's parents must feel. By helping you, her friend, she earned a black mark against her reputation. It was thoughtless of you. A woman wouldn't do something so foolish, and that's why Sirena and I question your emotions concerning Malcolm Weatherly. It seems that you have more growing up to do. If your swain is bent on asking me for your hand, I am afraid I must deny it.”

Wren's eyes narrowed and then flamed. “Sirena was one year older than I when she married you,” she said coolly. “And, Regan, you're not my father, so if you do deny my hand to Malcolm, I'll run off with him.”

If she had shot him a blow to the heart, she couldn't have wounded Regan more. Sirena wanted to reach out and slap the defiant pout on Wren's mouth. How could she have spoken in that way?

“Regan is the only father you've ever known. How dare you speak to him in such a manner! Apologize this instant!” Sirena demanded furiously.

“And you're not my mother!” Wren cried suddenly as the enormity of what she had said struck her. Never one to back off, she lashed out again. “I never asked you to pick me up off the street. I never asked you for anything. I worked for you and Frau Holtz. I did my share and wanted to do more, but you wouldn't let me. I never wanted to come here and go to that fancy school. You forced me to! I pleaded with you, begged you, and all either of you could say was that it was for my own good. Now you tell me it isn't. Don't I deserve the right to be happy? How can you deny me the one thing I'm asking of you? The one thing I'm asking in all the years you've cared for me. Tell me, Sirena. Can you tell me, Regan?” she all but shouted. “No, I see you can't!” Tears streaming down her cheeks, she ran from the room and made for the front door, almost upsetting a maid carrying a heavy tray.

Sirena's own eyes were as moist as Regan's as they rose to look out the window at Wren's retreating back. Sirena tugged at Regan's arm. “She didn't mean it, I'm sure she didn't. Girls say things they don't mean when they're upset. Right now she thinks she's in love. We have to be patient and let her know we understand, that we pray things will work out for the best. We can't allow ourselves to become angry and say things we don't mean. We're the adults, and we must act like parents. Please don't be hurt, Regan. I couldn't bear it.”

Regan gathered her in his arms. “As usual, you're right. We'll do our best to make the right decisions for Wren.” His voice faltered.

Tyler, drawn by the commotion, bounded into the room. His heart felt as if it would break when he saw the expressions on Regan's and Sirena's faces. He was powerless to offer words of encouragement; instead, he offered another cup of coffee.

Sirena's eyes went to Regan's granite face, then to Tyler's helpless-looking countenance, and from there to the shimmering silver and crystal on the breakfast table. She knew she should say something to make Regan's sorrow lift. Wren in love! Beautiful, childlike little Wren in love! Impossible! And, according to Tyler, with a bounder, no less!

Her long, slender fingers toyed with an ornate silver spoon as her mind raced. Womanly instinct warned her to be silent, but how could she bear the stricken look on Regan's face? He was wounded to the quick. She was not fooled; in her heart she knew he had harbored a secret hope, a desire actually, that Wren and Caleb would one day find each other. Gossamer dreams. Yet she, too, had hoped for the same thing.

Tyler broke the silence, his voice measured and quiet. “Time. Perhaps time is the answer. When she goes back to Java with you, things will mend.”

“Tell me, Tyler, how does one mend a broken heart?” Sirena asked coolly. Regan's eyes remained inscrutable.

“Absence makes the heart . . .”

“Grow fonder,” Sirena finished the sentence.

“In her own way Wren is as spirited as Sirena,” Regan declared. “If she fancies herself in love, no amount of talking or cajoling is going to change anything. We have to come up with some sort of . . . plan to make her see this oaf for what he is. Between the three of us, we should be able to think of something. What does Camilla have to say about all this?” Regan demanded of Tyler.

“In all honesty, I don't know, and I haven't had the heart to concern her with the problem. Wait till you see her, Sirena. She's come a far way from the girl you once knew.” Tyler's eyes shone as his face split into a proud grin. “However, not to digress. When Camilla's pregnancy became apparent to Weatherly, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable in her presence. In fact, the way his eyes avoided her, it was almost as though he were loath to look at her. At one point I found myself itching to punch his face to a bloody pulp. The only thing that held me back was my affection for Wren. But I tell you, I sensed he thought Camilla an obscenity and he didn't want to sully himself by being in the same room with her. I'm not being dramatic. I observed this for myself. Camilla, on the other hand, blithely happy because of our coming child, was oblivious to his reaction. Her only comment was that Weatherly seemed to behave decidedly coolly to her.”

Regan's spine stiffened as he heard Sirena inhale an almost imperceptible breath. He didn't fail to see the narrowing of her bottle-green eyes. If there was one thing that could stir Sirena into action, it was an attack on motherhood. How any man could regard pregnancy as a disfigurement was totally beyond Regan. To him Sirena had never looked more beautiful than when she had carried their children. Even near the end of each term, when she had been heavy and ungainly, the serenity and glow from within had given her the aura of a madonna. Regan's eyes met Sirena's across the table, and he wasn't surprised when he saw hers light like shards of emeralds and burn with warmth. How well they understood each other.