Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) (27 page)

Silva undid the buttons on his trousers.

Marlee pummeled Silva’s chest with her clenched fists. “Don’t,” he growled savagely against her ear and grabbed her wrists. Frustrated tears streamed freely down her cheeks, and she knew it was a matter of seconds before he removed his pants. She was prepared to bite and claw, anything to prevent him from attacking her. “Lie—still,” he whispered so quietly that Marlee could barely hear him, but she felt his weight push her deeper into the mattress, making her unable to kick out or further defend herself. His head lowered to hers and she thought he was going to kiss her, but his lips missed their target. His face fell onto her breasts.

She stiffened, waiting for him to continue the assault, but Manuel lay still, so still that she wondered if he had died. But his snores convinced her that he was asleep.

“Manuel?” Her voice was hesitant. She was fearful to move, afraid he’d waken, but his weight was crushing her and cutting off her oxygen. Gaining no response, she waited and when his hold upon her grew slack, she freed her hands.

Attempting to push him from her was a hard task. In his stupor he seemed to weigh twice as much, but soon he rolled over of his own accord onto the mattress. She waited and held her breath. When he didn’t waken, she hurriedly scampered off of the bed and began to pull on a dressing gown when Doña Carlotta suddenly appeared.

The old woman entered the room and peered closely at the sleeping pirate. When she turned to face Marlee, she was smiling broadly. “The sleeping powder worked well. He should sleep for many hours and when he wakens he’ll think it was the wine.”

Marlee was disbelieving. “You drugged him?”

“
Sí
” the old lady said with pride in her voice.

Marlee impetuously hugged Doña Carlotta. “Thank you so much, so much.” She started to cry.

“Now, now, don’t take on so,
señora
. But we must make our plan of escape.”

“Yes, yes,” she readily agreed and shivered at the sight of the tattered gown on the floor. “I want to get out of here—before—he wakes. I’ll escape tonight.”

“No, not tonight. You can’t get past Silva’s guards. Tomorrow night is the agreed-upon time.”

“Agreed-upon time? What are you talking about?” Marlee wondered if Doña Carlotta understood how important it was for her to leave Saint Augustine.

The old woman placed a finger to her lips and she took Marlee’s hand to lead her out of the bedroom and into the dining room where she poured Marlee a fortifying cup of wine. “Drink this and listen to what I have to say,” Doña Carlotta seriously advised her charge. “Someone is helping you. My former servant who works at the fruit stand gave me the powder for Silva’s drink. She received it from an Englishman who is here on Saint Augustine and will take you to safety.”

Marlee’s heart thumped hard. An Englishman? Could it be Lark? She discounted the thought as quickly as it came to her. Lark was busy with his Bettina by now. The Englishman must be Sloane. “When will he free me?”

“Tomorrow night there is a big celebration at the Castillo de San Marcos, given by the governor. Perhaps Silva mentioned this to you.”

Marlee nodded. He’d said something about a party and that she must wear her most beautiful gown and the rubies which Silva had given her, but she’d been unconcerned about the whole affair. Now, she listened eagerly to Doña Carlotta who said, “I shall go with you as duenna and I’ll make certain you escape. With all of the people and excitement, Silva shall be caught off guard. But you must do exactly as I tell you.”

“I’ll do anything,” Marlee vowed. “I’d even swim the distance to New Providence to get away from here.”

Doña Carlotta laughed, her eyes took on a dreamy quality. “That won’t be necessary for a big ship is waiting to spirit you into the arms of your beloved. How romantic for you!”

Marlee didn’t reply. She’d do whatever was necessary to escape from Silva, but Doña Carlotta was wrong. No arms were waiting to enfold her, because she had no beloved. He belonged to Lady Bettina Gilbert.

~ ~ ~

Silva cast an appreciative eye over Marlee as she descended from the carriage in front of the imposing Castillo de San Marcos. The stone walls of the fort had been built one hundred and sixty years before to keep out invaders and was still used for that purpose. But this night there was a glittering celebration in honor of the city’s founding and the fort was lit by torches which reflected the dazzling array of jewels worn by the guests. From the corner of his bloodshot eyes, Silva instantly knew that Marlee was the most beautiful of any woman there. She wore an off the shoulder silk gown, a deep ruby red in color, that showed off her alabaster flesh to perfection. The neckline was cut very low in the way Silva preferred, and the ruby pendant that hung between the lush valley of her breasts caused him to lick his lips in anticipation. Somehow he’d passed out the night before—something unusual for he prided himself on holding his liquor—and been unable to finish what his loins ached to do. But tonight when this celebration was over, Marlee would be his, and no amount of fighting on her part would prevent it.

A slight breeze ruffled the white lace mantilla which draped delicately across Marlee’s head. She was swathed in rubies, lace, and silk and didn’t care. All she worried about was escaping from here and counted the hours until midnight. She wondered if Silva could sense her nervousness and if he did, she hoped he thought it was due to the celebration. Doña Carlotta seemed quite calm and gave not the least hint by look or deed that she was the one who had drugged Manuel Silva into oblivion the night before.

If only this were over, Marlee thought and prayed that all would go as planned.

The governor met them as they entered the fort and any thought of escape was forgotten as the man introduced Marlee to his family members and aristocratic Spaniards who could trace their beginnings back to the early days of the city. Pretending an interest she didn’t feel, Marlee smiled brightly. No one made snide comments about her being there with Manuel Silva. It seemed that she was accepted just as Bettina had probably been accepted. No one dared cross Manuel Silva—no one but herself and a poor, defenseless old woman.

The evening passed slowly. Every so often Marlee would glance in Doña Carlotta’s direction, waiting for the sign to begin the escape. As the minutes passed, Marlee’s cheeks grew warmer and she tried to hide her agitation, but Manuel made things worse by watching her so closely that she feared he would read her thoughts and know what she planned. His hand resting familiarly on her waist and his tiny kisses on the nape of her neck were enough to make her bolt. But she stayed the impulse—and waited.

Manuel smiled at the tempting array of food which was set on long tables in the courtyard. Numbers of servants hurried to and from the kitchens, loaded down with trays of foods and wines. “The governor has outdone himself tonight. So much food has left me feeling quite sleepy.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, not hearing him for her mind was on her escape.

“
Sí
,” he said and bent down to nibble the lobe of her ear, “but it won’t prevent me from finishing what I started last night.”

To hide her repulsion, she sipped her wine and was very grateful that a Spanish matron came to speak with her. Silva stayed near, keeping a protective eye over her, but finally as midnight drew nigh, the governor came over and invited them to accompany him to the firing of the cannons to celebrate the founding of St. Augustine. Silva readily agreed, and as he took Marlee’s arm to lead her up the stone stairway to the top of the fort, Doña Carlotta caught her eye and nodded. This was the signal.

Marlee stumbled on the second step and her wine sloshed over her gown, soaking into the expensive material and staining it. “Oh, my! I’ve ruined my dress.”

Silva took a handkerchief from his top pocket and began wiping the offending stain away, but Marlee shook her head. “It’s only making it worse, Manuel. I’ll have to wash it out somehow.”

Doña Carlotta came forward from the shadows. “I can take the stain out. Follow me, Lady Arden.”

Marlee started after the old lady, but Silva halted her with a claw-like hand on her arm. “I will go with you.”

For a moment Marlee thought he would do just that, but suddenly and like a prayer being answered, the governor called to him to hurry and join him. Silva appeared to be in a quandary about what to do, but he didn’t want to offend the governor since the man allowed him safe haven in the city. He shot Marlee a warning glance. “I’ll be nearby, and if you aren’t by my side in ten minutes, I shall come after you and find you. Then I shall drag you away with me.” He tilted her face up to his. “Ten minutes, no more.”

“Yes, ten minutes,” she said in a breathy voice that belied her fear. She turned and followed Doña Carlotta through the courtyard and down a hallway into the kitchen area where the food was being prepared and then outside a back door into an area where carts waited, loaded down with fruits and vegetables.

“Over here,” Doña Carlotta whispered and hurried to a cart where an old man sat on the wooden-seat, his hands on the reins behind a mule. An older woman stood next to the cart and made urgent gestures with her hands. “This is my former servant,” Carlotta explained to Marlee. “She is the one who has agreed to help you.”

“Thank you,” Marlee said. “And is that your husband?” she nodded to the old man who wore the large-brimmed hat that obscured his face.

“No time for introductions now,” the woman said and barely glanced at the man. She pointed to a large crate that was on the back of the cart, surrounded by fresh produce of all kinds. “Climb into the box and I’ll close the lid,” she ordered. “And no matter what happens,
señora
, remain quiet. When the driver reaches Matanzas Bay, you’ll be released to your friends.” The woman made the sign of the cross. “
Madre de Dios
, hurry before Silva comes looking for you.”

Marlee started to climb onto the cart, but she stopped and smiled at Doña Carlotta. “Are you coming with me?”

“No, no,
señora
. I’ll stay here with my friend.”

“But—but what about Silva? He’ll know you helped me leave. He might harm you.”

Doña Carlotta clasped Marlee’s hands in hers. “I shall be safe with my friends. I’ll not return to the house. One day, maybe God shall give me back my home, but you mustn’t worry about me. I can take care of myself,
Señora
Marlee.”

Marlee kissed the old woman. “I wish you well, and thank you. Thank you and your friend.”

“Hurry for time grows short,” Doña Carlotta implored.

Not risking another look at either one of the women, Marlee climbed onto the cart and gingerly made her way through the produce before getting into the large crate. The women helped close the lid and Marlee was encased in darkness, except for a bit of light that shone through the wooden slats. A fruity scent like oranges and tangerines wafted over her as the driver clucked lowly to the mule and the cart started across the cobblestoned yard for the street.

She could hear her heart beating, and as each roll of the cart wheels reverberated in her ears, she almost imagined she heard Silva’s shouts. But that was impossible, for if he were calling for her, his voice would have been lost in the roar of the cannons which echoed from the Castillo. At any moment she expected the cart to stop and for Silva to wrench open the lid and pull her from the crate. A shiver slid down her backside to imagine his rage. “Dear Lord, please don’t let him find me, please let me get away,” she prayed out loud.

Finally, the cannon blasts grew so faint that she no longer heard them. It seemed the cart had been moving for a long time when her legs grew numb from maintaining her cramped, fetal position. Soon the quiet of the night gave way to the slight tinkling sound of bells in the distance, and ever alert, Marlee recognized the sound as a ship’s bell. They must be near Matanzas Bay!

The cart stopped moving, then three taps on the lid was the signal for which she’d been waiting. She pushed the lid from the crate and stared into the dark night. There wasn’t a moon or stars by which to see, but she made out the shadowy figure of the old man as he came to help her off the cart. Extending a hand to him, Marlee was visibly surprised when the old man grasped her around the waist and swung her from the cart to land on her feet with ease. “Thank—thank you,
señor
.” She was so dumbfounded that she couldn’t think of anything else to say, didn’t know what to say when he pulled her along to the sandy shoreline like a man who was half his age. They came upon a longboat and without saying a word to her, he helped her in the boat and took the seat in front of her. The oars he used to navigate through the dark waters were held firmly in his hands, and he didn’t have any trouble cutting through the waves.

Marlee could only marvel at his strength which was surprising for an elderly gentleman. She remembered seeing the man on the day she’d visited the market with Manuel Silva, but she’d only seen him from the back as he bent over the produce. She’d assumed he was advanced in years because of the age of his wife, but she’d never actually seen the man’s face and couldn’t see it now. The hat’s brim obscured her view and the night was so dark that his features were obliterated. But she no longer thought of the man as elderly. His movements were too robust, too certain of where they were headed to be a fruit vendor.