Once a Mistress (33 page)

The moments ticked by, and still no dark head broke the surface.

“Diana, I think we had best go home.”

The sympathy in her father’s voice almost undid her. “No, I—”

“He is dead, child,” her father said gently. “No one could stay under water that long.”

“No,” she said again, her voice little more than a whisper. But even as she said the word, tears spilled down her cheeks. He was dead. She knew he was, had seen it with her own eyes. The pain was too much to bear.

“He was wrong,” she said in a dull tone, tearing her gaze from the sea. “This is the end, after all.”

Frederick pulled her close and slowly led her up the path. They met Maude halfway. She gave Diana a look of sorrow.

“He tried tae escape,” she said in a hushed tone. “And Henry Morgan shot and killed El Moreno. I’m sorry, ma bairn.”

Diana closed her eyes and gave herself up to grief.

Chapter Twenty-One

El Moreno was dead.

It seemed everywhere she turned, Diana heard the grisly tale repeated over and over. How El Moreno had trapped Marcus, only to be killed by the great Morgan. The story was told with great relish and embellishment in the taverns, the forts and the marketplace.

Diana had taken to remaining within the walls of Covington Hall so that she might avoid hearing the tale repeated over and again. Yet even in her own home she could not escape the wagging tongues. The servants gossiped while carrying out their duties, never realizing that every time El Moreno’s name was mentioned, their mistress’s heart broke all over again.

Even witnessing Marcus’s hanging had not dulled her pain. The villain had gone mad moments before death, swearing on his mother’s grave that he saw El Moreno in the crowd. Of course, that was impossible, and so Marcus died with his enemy’s name on his lips.

Diana found Marcus’s madness to be fitting justice for the wrongs he had done to Alex and his family.

She had taken to wandering the gardens, away from the chattering servants, where she comforted herself with bittersweet reminisces of the short time she had known Alex.

She stood near the doors to the ballroom. Though the sun shone brightly in a blue sky overhead, in her mind she saw the moon in a velvet night sky, and a black-clad man had just stepped from the shadows and into her heart.

“Diana?”

Maude’s familiar burr jerked her from her memories, and the sun seemed over bright of a sudden. Diana sent Maude an annoyed glance. Things had been strained between them in the five days since Alex had met his death.

“Must you sneak up on me in such a manner?” she demanded petulantly.

“Yer father requests yer presence in the study,” the companion said without expression.

“Now?’ Diana plucked a blossom from a nearby bush. “What does he want?”

“I dinna ken. He telt me tae fetch ye, and so I have.”

Diana sighed in exasperation. Tossing the flower aside, she took up her skirts and pushed past Maude. “This had better be important,” she muttered.

She stalked into the house and down the hall to her father’s study, grumbling under her breath the whole way. She gave one short rap on the closed door before entering the room.

“You sent for me?”

Frederick looked up from the document he was reading. “Yes, I did. Be seated, Diana. I have some wonderful news.”

She took the chair across from her father’s desk. “And what news might that be?”

“I have just arranged for your betrothal.”

“You did
what
?” She surged from her seat. “Papa, how could you?”

Frederick frowned at her until she sat down again. “I am your father, my dear, and seeing to your future is my responsibility. You did not think to remain unwed forever did you? Especially given recent circumstances?”

“The thought had occurred to me,” she snapped. “I have no need of a husband.”

“I disagree, daughter. I believe you do need a husband. A strong man who can handle your headstrong ways.”

“Headstrong!” She started to rise again, but the expression on her father’s face made her sink back into the chair. “I need no man to order me about.”

“The agreement has been signed,” Frederick said. “‘Tis done.”

“I will refuse to wed him.”

“You
will
wed him, else you will be turned out of this house to make your own way in the world.”

She gaped at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Daughter, you do not seem to realize that your recent adventures have done considerable damage to your reputation. This offer may very well be the only one you ever receive.”

She shrugged. “So be it.”

Frederick slammed both palms down on his desk and rose. “You will marry this man, daughter. He is a man of great courage and honorable name.”

“Courage? He is so courageous that he cannot face me and claim my hand himself? And honorable?” She choked on the words. “The most honorable man I know died before my eyes but five days past.”

Frederick looked down at the betrothal agreement on his desk. “Nevertheless, you are betrothed. I think you will like the man. He is fair of face and well-titled…”

“Think you I care for good looks or titles?” She locked her gaze on her father’s. “The man I love is dead. Yet you expect me to marry a stranger within days of his passing?”

“You must get on with your life, Diana. I have been remiss in not seeing to your marriage sooner. But after your mother’s death I felt like a ship with no rudder, drifting with no direction.”

“Then you understand how I feel,” she whispered.

“I do understand, but it changes nothing. The agreement has been signed. You
will
wed this man, should I have to clap you in irons and drag you to the church.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “Nothing I say will change your mind?”

“I’m afraid not.” He reached across the desk and touched her hand. “He is a good man, my dear. Handsome, titled, wealthy. I think you will be pleased.”

“Pleased?” She stepped away. “How can I be pleased with a man who has not the courage to ask for my hand himself? When shall I meet the coward? When he creeps into my room under cover of darkness to perform his husbandly duties?”

Frederick flushed at his daughter’s reference to the marriage bed. She could see she had embarrassed him. “You may meet him now if you like,” he said. “He awaits you in the gardens. I had Maude send him through the other doors.”

“The coward.” She turned on her heel and headed for the door. “We shall see how long it takes to flush that craven fool from behind Maude’s skirts and out of my life.”

She slammed the door behind her.

Minutes later, Diana burst into the gardens like a satin-clad hurricane. Her “betrothed” stood with his back to her, his feet planted in the very spot where she and Alex had first exchanged words. As she stormed up to him, she took in his great height and the broad shoulders that were no doubt due to the excellent cut of his dark blue coat. Ink black hair flowed over his shoulders from beneath his broad blue hat with its white ostrich plume. He put his hands on his hips as he looked around, and Diana’s steps faltered. The gesture was so familiar! An invisible hand squeezed her heart as she recalled the many times she had seen Alex do that very thing. She stopped and took a deep, audible breath.

He turned at the sound, his hands dropping to his sides. The sun behind him cast his face in shadow beneath the wide brim of his hat.

Diana regained control of her rioting emotions and lifted her chin. If she intended to send the man packing, then she needed to project an image of strength. “So, you are the man who would take me to wife?”

He nodded, and she smiled. So, he was too shy to even speak to her, was he? All the better to be frightened off by a shrewish tongue.

“You do realize, do you not, that I am soiled goods? I was the captive of the pirate El Moreno for an entire week. He ravished me and made me his mistress.”

He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a stifled chuckle.

“You think it amusing?” she asked with annoyance. “Or perhaps you think me a liar? I assure you that El Moreno used me shamelessly, like the veriest bawd. He did things to me that people speak of in whispers, subjected me to exotic pleasures that he learned in his voyages to the Far East. I am not fit to be a wife, sir.”

He cleared his throat loudly, but though she waited, he said nothing. She rolled her eyes.

“Once a mistress, never a wife, is that not what they say?” she continued. “There is every chance that I contracted some sort of disease from the man, you know. I could very well have the pox or something worse. And there is every chance that I may yet carry the blackguard’s babe. You would not wish your heir to be a pirate’s get, would you, sir?”

His shoulders shook. He began coughing rather violently.

Diana glanced askance at him and took a step backwards. “Given the circumstances, sir, I think it would be best if you withdrew your suit.”

He stopped coughing, tossed back his head and laughed.

Diana blinked. Her blood froze as the chillingly familiar laugh echoed throughout the garden. She strained to see his face, but all she could make out was a strong, sun-browned throat.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

Still chuckling, he swept off his hat.

She stared at him, her eyes widening as she took in every feature of his familiar, beloved face. “Alex?”

“Aye.” He let his hat tumble to the ground as he pulled her to him. His touch was warm, firm and amazingly real. “Tell me again how you were ravished by a pirate,” he teased. “And about those ‘exotic pleasures’ that El Moreno taught you.”

She jerked away from him, her face heating with mortification. “You…you…”

“I fear not any disease the rogue may have given you,” he continued with a grin. “And I would accept any babe of that sordid union as if it were my very own.”

“Indeed? Well, I will not accept you as a husband! How could you do such a thing!” She slapped him hard across the face. Then she turned her back on him, fighting tears. She was so confused. Her heart sang because he was alive. But pain flooded her veins because he had tricked her.

He caught her as she took a step towards the house. “What do you mean, you will not accept me? I assure you, my days as a pirate are over. As far as the world is concerned, El Moreno is dead.”

“Aye, he is.” She faced him, anger and hurt bubbling over. “I saw El Moreno die. I heard the shot, I saw him fall. Do you have any idea how I felt? I died, too, that day.”

“I did not mean to hurt you, but there was no other way.”

“No other way,” she echoed with derision. “How did you survive? You had been shot, and you had those chains on.”

“Morgan passed me the key to the irons. ‘Twas he who fired the shot, well over my head I might add. I resurfaced on the other side of the cliff and stayed in the shadows of the rocks until the soldiers left.”

“Why would Sir Henry do such a thing?”

“Because ‘twas his idea that I become El Moreno. I was working under his orders to track down Marcus and bring him back to face the gallows. El Moreno had to die so that I might assume my rightful identity.”

“You might have told me. You might have hinted that…” She stopped and took a breath, realizing that she was becoming overset. “Now you have somehow convinced my father that we should be wed.”

“We
will
be wed, my sweet.” He took her hands in his, tightening his fingers when she would have pulled away. “I never committed half the crimes attributed to me. Most of those rumors were Morgan’s doing. It was all a pretense to capture Marcus.”

“And our relationship? Was that a pretense too, Alex?” She shook her head. “Or is Alex even your name?”

“Oh, it is my name. And you were the only real thing amid all the pretending, Diana. I fought my feelings for you, but in the end, they won out.”

“Who are you really?” she whispered, staring up into his dark eyes. “Are you the man I fell in love with? Or are you someone I don’t even know?”

“I am the same man I always was,” he answered, bringing her hands to his lips. “And more.”

Her flesh rippled with pleasure at his touch and brought to life all the feelings she thought had died with El Moreno. Confused, she yanked her hands away.

“What of your ship? And your men?”

He sighed and accepted her withdrawal. “Birk and McBride are both good friends of long standing. I hired the rest of the crew as El Moreno.”

“And the ship?”

“The
Vengeance
is mine and always has been. Before my brother died she was called the
Miranda
. I changed the name when I became El Moreno.”

“Miranda.” Diana closed her eyes. “The countess. You do love her.”

He cupped her face. “Yes. I do love her. Diana…” He waited until she opened her eyes. “She’s my mother.”

“Your mother!” She gaped at him, then glared and yanked away from him. “Do you think me so simple a maid that I would believe such a thing?”

“Never have I accused you of being simple, my love. She is indeed my mother. And as for being a maid…” His voice trailed off suggestively.

“You are no gentleman!” she snapped, blushing.

He seized her about the waist. “Never have I pretended to be. No gentleman would be able to handle a spirited wench like you.”

“I am no mare to be broken, Alex,” she retorted. “Take me as I am or not at all.”

“Oh, I shall take you,
amada
. To wife.”

“I have not yet decided to accept your suit.” She turned her face away when he bent to kiss her.

“You decided the day you offered yourself to me,” he growled, sensuality heavy in his voice. “I knew the first time I took you that I would have you for my wife.”

“Another unimportant detail that you did not tell me? I do not think I shall marry you, sir. You keep too many secrets for my taste.”

“Taste this,” he murmured, covering her mouth with his.

Diana closed her eyes and let her emotions sweep her away. Alex’s kiss made the anger she felt over his “death” fade from her mind. She curled her fingers into his shoulders, kneading the warm muscles she found there. His heart beat against hers as he deepened the kiss, proving with in a most pleasurable manner that he was not some ghost come to haunt her, but a flesh and blood man.