Microsoft Word - Sherwood, Valerie - Nightsong (52 page)

"Her life," said Don Ramon simply. He held up his hand at the sudden stillness in the buccaneer's face. "Do not ask me why I do it." He sounded suddenly weary. "I think I do not know myself. But I cannot let the lady burn at the next auto-da-fe. And she would surely burn if I allow her to carry out her foolhardy but"-his eyes softened-

"selfless plan."

"If you seek to send me away," said Carolina, divining what he would most likely say next, "I warn you that I will not go without Kells."

"No, I did not imagine that you would." Don Ramon sighed. "But I would be rid of all of you. Faith, I will clear the English out of EI Morro and out of Havana at a single blow!" He gave a wry laugh.

''The marquess, too?" cried Penny. "You would free Robin, too?"

Don Ramon nodded. "I would free him as well. It is not my usual style to send a man to his death for what another has done."

"But he--" began Carolina, and Penny shushed her.

"Let good enough alone, Carol," she warned. "Remember, Robin is a king's favorite.

If his life is spared-and if you let him believe that it was Kells here who saved him-why would he not ask for a pardon from a grateful king for the man who saved his life?"

"He would not do it," Carolina said bitterly. "He buckled before. When Reba and her mother get at him, he will buckle again!"

"Not if I take charge of him!" Penny said lightly but there was a look in her dark blue eyes that Carolina had not seen there before. "If Robin lacks backbone, he can use mine. I assure you that I will not be put off by his wife or his mother-in-law!"

The two men were listening in some amazement to this frank interchange between the two women.

"Penny, you could do it!" Carolina cried joyfully. "You could make Robin keep his word! But"-she gave her sister a troubled look-"you can only be his mistress, you will never be his wife. Reba and her mother will see to that!"

Penny shrugged her handsome shoulders. "Who knows?" she said philosophically. "I want Robin now, but I may not want him forever!" Her wicked grin flashed. "Perhaps I will find me a royal duke. Or even"-those shoulders moved in a slight swagger that accentuated the generous curve of her breasts-"a king!"

"I little doubt she might," murmured Kells, and Don Ramon raised his eloquent brows.

"So are we managed by the ladies," he said mockingly. "I will take warning."

"And well you might," Carolina said warmly. "But I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me--for

giving all of us our lives back again. May you not suffer for it!"

He shrugged. "The El Dorado lies waiting in the harbor. Tonight she will have but a skeleton crew. Tonight there will be an unfortunate fire in EI Morro which will command the attention of everyone. Many prisoners will be released-and some among them"-he gave Kells a mocking look-"might at one time or another have been buccaneers. I little doubt that you will know how to take the ship, how to ease her out of the harbor, how to sail away in her!"

Kells gave him back a grim look. He little doubted it either.

"Ramon." Carolina stepped nearer to him. "Ramon, I-" Her throat seemed to close with emotion.

"There is no need to speak, Dona Carolina." Don Ramon del Mundo's gaze upon the blonde beauty was caressing. "I do this of my own free will-and I think that I will like myself the better for it."

Silent, but with gray eyes glinting, Kells the buccaneer strode forward and gripped his erstwhile enemy by the hand.

At that moment he could find no words to express his feelings either.

In Havana harbor by starlight a great white and gold ship was moving, easing along, manned by desperate men who had taken her in darkness and wanted to see home again. The El Dorado was moving out to sea on the strangest mission she would ever undertake--the returning to England of a motley crew of English and American sailors and buccaneers, and a little group of aristocrats who stood on deck, watching silently as the ship moved under the guns of frowning EI Morro, and then slid by, unchallenged.

They moved on into the velvet blackness of the night.

Kells looked back at the silent guns of EI Morro, a mighty fortress atop the cliffs flung up in dim silhouette against the sky.

"I have made my peace with Spain," he murmured. "I do not think I could bring myself to go against the dons again."

Beside him Carolina, who knew why those guns were silent, felt her eyes grow misty.

She had brought him peace at last, her turbulent lover. She turned and looked back, too. And of a sudden she blew a kiss to old Havana and to the man who stood frowning over the guns of EI Morro, keeping them silent while the El Dorado safely carried the woman he loved from Havana harbor. She hoped he would find happiness, and joy-and arms as warm as hers to comfort him. She wished him long life and strong sons who would grow up to be men as good as he; that was her wish for that "man of the world" who-had there been no Kells-she knew she could have loved with all her heart.

Rye's thoughtful gaze scanned El Morro's uprearing bulk, grown hazy in the distance.

"Carolina," he said. "If aught should happen to me, there is a man who loves you back there in Havana."

"I know," Carolina said softly. "I know that, Rye." She dashed a tear from her eye. "I must start calling you Rye again and not Kells for you have left that life behind you."

"Yes." He still looked back toward that dark fortress, fast fading from sight, and saw there a gallant enemy with whom he would never cross swords. "It is over, Carolina.

All of it."

"Not quite all," she murmured, moving closer against him so that her warm hip touched his thigh. "We have brought something away from it-from that world."

He looked down at her tenderly, this miracle of a woman he had found, and knew that it was true. Their love had come through it, untarnished and bright. That slender thread of love had endured so much-it had crossed the wild seas yet it had suffered no sea change; it had endured near-death and violence and jealousy, all the woes of the world had sought to wrest it from them and yet it held them still together by its gossamer unseen strands.

He stroked her hair tenderly, loving every strand. "Carolina, Carolina," he murmured huskily. "What have I ever done to deserve you?"

It was a golden moment, a moment to remember. But Carolina, after all the fear and strain that had besieged her in Havana-yes, and the doubt, too-was suddenly in a playful mood.

"Oh, come now," she rallied him teasingly. "We have enemies who would say that we deserve each other!"

"No man could deserve you," he said softly against her ear. "But you have my promise--given as we slip away from death-that I will endeavor to do so."

His words had moved her, but still she mocked him. "All this for a woman who was so recently your slave in Havana?" she asked flippantly. His voice was rueful. "Well, I am now your slave," he said. "And will prove it every day of my life."

A wonderful warmth flooded over her. They had been through so much-together and separately. And they had come through it all-together.

She cast a look behind her. The great fortress of EI Morro had vanished, and from just above where it had been, a single star winked in the velvet night. A guiding star that would lead them through this night and across this trackless ocean . . . together.

Always.

Nearby Robin Tyrell, Marquess of Saltenham, studied Carolina and her sister. Two spirited women so alike in many ways-and yet so very different. And his feeling for them was different, too. Carolina was a bright star-but she shone in someone else's heaven. Carolina had made him wistful to be what he was not.

But Rouge-and that was the way he thought of her, as "Rouge," not "Penny," as Carolina called her-Rouge set him aflame. He desired her in an aching physical way that ground in his groin. For Carolina his heart had ached, but Rouge he must have-whatever the cost.

And she knew it. It was in the warm beckoning smile she now turned upon him, in the silky luxuriousness of her movements as she stretched slightly and then leaned upon the ship's rail, presenting her eloquent woman's body to best advantage.

He groaned.

It seemed to him that women had always ruled his life-and now here was another!

Worse, another destined to playa role in it that no one else ever had, a dominant role.

God, he knew that he would follow after her like a dog, panting for her favors. He, Robin Tyrell, Marquess of Saltenham! It was degrading. It was-

"Come along, Robin," said Penny, noting his steady regard. "There must be some place more private on this ship than the deck!"

The light in her eyes was unmistakable, her smile promised everything. "We'll find a place," he assured her hoarsely-and hurried forward, following her.

Carolina turned to watch them as they went. A woman like Penny, she mused, could hold even a rake like Robin in line!

"I rather think that Robin's the slave!" she laughed. "As I am yours," chuckled Kells, sweeping her up in his arms as he spoke. "Command me as you will!" The silver eyes looking up into his sparkled. She was very like to do it!

"Oh, Rye," she whispered, snuggling down into his arms as if to remain there forever.

"We are safe. We will make it home this time. All the way to Essex."

Rye Evistock, gentleman of Essex, who never again would be called Kells, looked down at her tenderly. She was so lovely, this vivid girl of his, so touchingly trusting and yet so brave and wise. It made him humble to realize how gallantly she had fought to save him these past weeks and how willing she had been to throw her life away for his sake. It told him more than any words how very much she must love him. Carolina would always tempt other men-that he knew. But-she would always find her way home.

To his arms.

The buccaneer and his lady were on their way home at last.

And so I end my saga

Of those who loved and sinned

And left their footprints on the sand,

Their lovesongs on the wind!

An Essex lady now she rides along the Essex ways And turns her radiant face away from other stormier days When as the Silver Wench her fame was every buccaneer's pride And made the fair wench Christabel a wild sea rover's bride!

It was late spring and a sultry air hung over northern Cuba. Cane rats gnawed the young cane in the sugarcane fields that would someday make good Cuban rum. The cathedral bells, clanging all over the country, were calling dark smiling dons and mantillaed ladies to mass.

But at the entrance to Havana harbor a miracle had happened. That great white and gold ship, the El Dorado, had sailed in from out of nowhere, flying the red and gold banner of Spain.

The guns of EI Morro boomed a welcome and were quickly followed by a salute from the Punta and-a little slower-by the guns of La Fuerza.

It was Spain's ambassador to England who came ashore-came ashore beaming, for had he not returned that greatest of galleons, the El Dorado, at last to Havana?

In the white city that day, with the sun gleaming upon the white coral limestone and glinting upon the red tile roofs and the black wrought iron of balconies and grilles of the rococo buildings, all was wonder and excitement.

The ambassador was received in state in the governor's offices in the frowning fortress of La Fuerza-and then, when the governor learned of the ambassador's mission here, he was carried away almost at once to the governor's "palace," that big attractive house that fronted the Plaza de Armas, for wine and discussion.

"But such a thing has never happened before!" cried the governor, urging excellent Malaga upon his guest.

His guest, tired of shipboard life after his long voyage from London, looked around the pleasant courtyard in which they sat.

"I know," laughed the Spanish ambassador ruefully. "But, then, I think that we have never had a buccaneer such as Captain Kells before! He has a certain style, this buccaneer! He flaunts our laws, he seizes our ships at his pleasure-and now at the end of his career, he sails one to England and graciously sends it to Havana -bearing gifts."

"Bearing gifts?" The governor could not believe his ears. He poured more wine into his guest's swiftly drained goblet.

"Near half a shipload of French wine for your excellency," said the ambassador. "I am given to understand-France and England being still at war then-that the wine was captured by happenstance on the journey to England." His lips twisted in a wry smile.

"This particular buccaneer distributes his largesse as he sees fit. He sends word that not only did you offer him and his lady your kind hospitality in Havana" -here the governor choked and had to be patted on the back; the ambassador's eyes gleamed wickedly for he was a worldly man-"but you, by the 'lending' of this great ship, gave him a comfortable journey back to England to redeem his lost honor-and not only that.

but a chance to strike a blow for his country against the French, who were harassing English shores!"

"I never lent him a ship!" gasped the governor.

"No, I am sure you did not, but the impudent fellow chose to put it that way. Your wine cellar," he added meditatively, "will be none the worse for all this good Bordeaux."

Indeed it would not! The governor, a fancier of fine wines, felt himself brightening.

"The ship is undamaged?" he asked nervously, for he felt he could be called to account if she were not.

"Undamaged indeed," affirmed the ambassador, who after the coolness of London was feeling the heat of tropical Havana. His host recognized that and signaled for a servant to fan him. With cool air from the swaying palm-leaf fan blowing over him at last, the ambassador sighed and relaxed. "I bring other gifts as well."

"Other gifts?" exclaimed the governor. "Madre de Dios, this buccaneer must consider himself a king!"

"It would seem he was an unofficial king in the islands, this Lord Admiral of the Buccaneers," agreed the ambassador dryly. "But these gifts are in the most part from his lady."

"The Silver Wench," murmured the governor, shaking his head.