Delight (7 page)

A Spanish merchantman drifted toward him on the sea. A small cluster of women crowded on deck, bonnets fluttering in the wind, pale faces lifted like flowers to the sun. One of them held a young child in her arms.

'Twas a trick.

He was so sure it had been a trick.

The Spaniards had used this ploy before, disguised a hostile ship as a merchantman. They had dressed their sailors as women. The child was a convincing touch.

But the Dragon of Darien was young and ruthless, out to prove his prowess. No one would deceive him. Sweat trickled down his lean brown face as he raised his hand to order the attack. He hesitated a moment. Why had he ignored the prickle of unease that shot down his spine?

"
God," he whispered, forcing his eyes open, his voice raw. "God forgive me.
"

He had attacked a ship whose precious cargo
was a handful of women to be sold as slaves. Two of them had died, and the child, left an orphan.

He had taken the battered ship to Tortuga and given the dead a funeral worthy of a king. The Spanish priest he had dragged along thought him mad. His friends had laughed at him. No one had mourned at the shallow graves of his victims. No one had cared that he
'
d killed a few slaves, which made his shame all the deeper.

He was determined in those days to become the best of the worst, a blackguard, and guilt was not an emotion he could afford if he expected his men to respect him. He did not realize, in those days, that the time would come when it would matter more that he respect himself.

R
owena sat in bed braiding her hair while Hildegarde examined the room for spy-holes and secret passages.
"
He isn
'
t quite what I expected."

"Frederic tried to warn you.
"
Hildegarde tested the bolt of
the heavy door, ts
king in dissatisfac
tion.
"
I should not have allowed you to dismiss the old fool. Sour he may be, but I do not doubt he would die to protect you.
"

Rowena grinned.
"
Protect me from what? A pirate who spends all his spare time in prayer? Perhaps I should go to the chapel and pray the Dragon hasn
'
t retired if indeed that minister's rumor is true.
"

"A minister would not lie,
"
Hildegarde said.

"
But a minister could be mistaken.
"

Hildegarde shook her head as she lumbered down on her knees to peer under the bed.
"
One can hardly ask the Almighty to make a man sinful.
"

"
'
Tis useless if he's reformed,
"
Rowena said thoughtfully. "Hartzburg needs a man wicked enough to conquer my adversaries.
"
She scowled, setting down her silver-chased brush. "How many spies do you think are hiding under my mattress, Hildegarde?"

"
No spies.
"
The governess snatched a poker from the stone hearth and skewered a dustball.
"
Look at the size of this. And Sir Matthew is not wicked, although you were willing enough to ask his help until this pirate lore filled your head.
"

"True," Rowena murmured.
"
Compared to the Dragon of Darien, Sir Matthew is entirely tame."

The older woman took the dustball to the window.
"
Sir Matthew would make a fine mate."

Rowena's delicate fingers tightened on her heavy coil of hair.
"
Better than the Duke of Vandever, or my cousin, I
'
d agree. But Matthew is too much a friend, I fear. If it weren
'
t for his bravery on the battlefield—
"

She fell silent in frustration. Hildegarde, as usual, was not listening. Something—some imagined act of intrigue below in the bailey had caught her attention.

"
'
Tis the quiet man named Aidan—and the
earl,
"
Hildegarde whispered. "Where could they ride this late at night?
"

Rowena rose, sighing in resignation. Her reflection in the yellowed pier glass frowned back at her. She would never be the sort of woman who, on physical appearance alone, would attract a man of legend.

Hildegarde turned from the window. "We cannot forget what our host has done."

"His mother—Matthew
'
s mother too—was rumored to be a beauty." Rowena edged from the pier glass with a wistful smile.
"
She was a lady
'
s maid in a great house and caught the eye of a nobleman."

"
Matthew told you this?" Hildegarde said in disapproval.

Rowena nodded.
"
She bore the nobleman
'
s son nine months later, but by then the man was dead, killed in battle. Sir Matthew was the child of their union. She was put out into the streets in shame with her bastard."

"
There is nothing of disgrace about Sir Matthew," Hildegarde said.

"
Only because the nobleman
'
s family came to the slums to claim Matthew when he was barely one. He was the only living link to their dead son, and they wanted to acknowledge him.
"

"But not the mother?
"
Hildegarde guessed.

"She was a disgraced woman,
"
Rowena said sof
tl
y.
"
Matthew
'
s grandparents never allowed
him to see her again. He did not know of her existence until his mother was dying.
"

"
Matthew is a good man," Hildegarde insisted.
"
Clearly he trusts you to have revealed what he would not want the world to know. Still, he did not warn you his brother was a pirate.
"

"
If
he is a pirate," Rowena said. "Or was one in the past.
"

"
How will you handle this matter, Highness?"

"I am not sure,
"
Rowena said.
"
For now I shall simply play along with the man, accepting that he is what he appears to be."

"
Matthew was never a pirate,
"
Hildegarde said to herself.

Rowena nodded tiredly and returned to the bed, alarmed that when she closed her eyes, it was not Matthew
'
s clean features that came to mind. The earl
'
s dark face dominated her thoughts, his smile mocking
…
and seductive.

"Bolt the door, Highness," Hildegarde whisp
e
red from the outer corridor.
"
I suspect there is a secret passage leading from the fireplace, but it seems to have been sealed. I will not leave until I am sure you are safe for the night.
"

"Safe from what, you silly old thing?" Rowena grumbled as she trudged dutifully to the door.

She could have told Hildegarde not to waste her time in worries; if Rowena had her way, duty would soon lead her in a direction far more
dangerous than anything either of them had ever imagined.

A
light rain fell into the night. Their search of the outlying moor had been uneventful. Douglas motioned Aidan back onto the castle road. Then, on instinct, he stopped.

"
One more ride around the glen.
"

Aidan shrugged. "Why not?
"

The glen was undisturbed. The stone huts sat in darkness; a dog or two growled at their passage. Then, a half-mile or so beyond the village, Douglas noticed an isolated hut with peat smoke drifting up into the drizzle.

A woman's voice, softly pleading, broke the silence. Two horses were hobbled in the encroaching woods.

Douglas dismounted.
"
Search those trees, Aidan.
"

He walked to the hut. The door stood ajar. He made no sound as he entered, his eyes adjusting to the smoky glow of a dying peat fire.

A woman huddled against the wall, begging for mercy as a man in a frayed plaid buried his face in her breasts.

"You've had a busy day, lad,
"
Douglas said.

The man whirled, his eyes wild in his bearded face. "Who the hell are ye?
"

Douglas ignored the question. He heard a jar shatter in the adjoining room.

"
I
'
m the Earl of Dunmoral," he said, prodding, the tip of his sword into the man
'
s belly. "And
you, who has the manners of a jackal?
"

"He
'
s Liam of Glengalda,
"
the woman burst out, taking cover behind Douglas
'
s back. "He raped a f-friend of mine today, and beat wee Davie senseless. His brother is—
"

The man drew an ax from his belt before she could finish. He died instantly, staring down at the sword that impaled him.

"
The other,
"
the woman whispered, tugging on Douglas's free arm.
"
He was stealing my food, and threatened to kill my bairns.
"

Douglas rushed behind the leather partition. A man in a hooded plaid had just climbed out the window, a sack of oats clutched to his chest.

Douglas hurried after him, throwing down his sword to climb through the narrow window. A light flared in the loft above. He assumed someone had lit a candle. A child whimpered. But he had no time to investigate.

He ran outside into the rain. At the edge of the woods he flung himself down on the man who
'
d fled the hut.

"Have mercy on me,
"
the man said with a sob.
"I didna want to join the outlaws. They
'
ll kill me if I dinna steal food for them.
"

Douglas could not see the features obscured by the hood.
"
Where is Neacail of Glengalda?
"
he demanded.

"
The coward hides and sends puir folks like me to do his bidding."

Douglas leaped to his feet. "Come with me,
"
he said in a harsh voice.

"Aye,
"
the man said docilely, and as he rose, the hood fell back, revealing a grinning face with battered features.

"My bairns,
"
the woman cried from inside the hut.
"
He
'
s set fire to the loft!
"

"
Jesus,
"
Douglas heard Aidan shout
,
"
Woman, get outside! The roof is falling. Help me, Douglas!
"

The man took a step from Douglas.

"Ye canna put out the fire and hold me prisoner,
"
he said shrewdly.

Douglas stared at the man
'
s face.
"
Who are you?"

"Who do ye think?
"

"Neacail,
"
Douglas said, reaching for his belt. "You mad bastard.
"

Aidan stumbled from the hut with a child in his arms. The sight distracted Douglas, and Neacail used the advantage. He turned to flee into the woods.

Douglas broke into a run after him, wrenching his pistol from his belt. He squeezed the trigger. The pistol misfired; rain had dampened the powder.

"God,
"
he roared, clenching his jaw in fury.

Neacail looked back to laugh. Douglas pulled
the other flintlock out to fire ag
ain. This time he
hit the outlaw in the arm.

Neacail stiffened but did not stop. Douglas could only hope to find him later in the woods, dead or wounded.

"Douglas,
"
Aidan shouted.
"
Help me for the love of Christ!
"

There was no choice in the matter. Douglas could not give chase. He would not let those children bum to death.

9