Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) (31 page)

“Quit being so childish and start acting like a woman. You’re nearly twenty, time to stop your pouting and posturing.” Alastair didn’t smile at her like he longed to do. Bettina needed some sort of scolding to make her see reason. It was too bad that her father never took a paddle to her pretty rear. She’d been so spoiled and coddled that she couldn’t comprehend why Lark didn’t want her. But Alastair wanted her desperately.

“I’m a woman,” she persisted and formed her mouth into a moue. “You know how much of a woman I am.”

“Yes, me and how many others, my dear?”

“Oh! You’re as horrid as Lark!”

“No, I’m not like Lark,” he insisted. “I want you, faults and all. Come here, my pet, and be quiet.” Holding out his arms to her, Bettina hesitated only a second before settling into his familiar embrace. Minutes later Alastair thrust deeply inside her, stifling her wanton cries with his lips.

If only things could always be like this, she later thought before drifting off to sleep.

Things will always be like this, Alastair decided, and didn’t fall asleep.

Servants dressed in their finest livery waited in attendance upon the large flock of people who descended upon Lord Gilbert’s home for Bettina’s welcome-home party. Trays of meats, seafoods, and fruits were passed among the guests, the wineglasses filled with only the best of Lord Gilbert’s personal stock.

The candelabras had been lit, and the house glowed brilliantly. Happy chatter drifted throughout the dining room and ballroom, and there was no one happier than Marlee. After tonight, she and Lark would be free to leave Bermuda for Virginia. He’d promised her that he was going to tell Bettina’s parents that he and their daughter had mutually decided against marrying. After all the months of heartache, finally Marlee’s dream was becoming reality.

She’d just taken a sip of French champagne when Alastair Caine walked over to her. Though she thought the fair-haired Alastair was handsome, there was something about him that caused her flesh to crawl. Perhaps it was his smarmy smile that seemed to be continually in place, almost as if he were afraid to relax his guard around people. “Lady Arden, may I say that you are especially lovely tonight?”

Marlee inclined her head in acceptance of his compliment, a bit disturbed by the way his eyes swept over her. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable in the violet satin gown she’d recently purchased at the town dressmaker when his gaze remained glued to her bosom. To gain his attention to her face, she cleared her throat. “Bettina mentioned that you export straw to England.” At the mention of his cousin’s name, his gaze moved upward to her face and he smiled warmly.

“Yes. The straw is used to make hats—a very lucrative venture. Straw hats are the rage in London. I’ve turned a pretty profit recently. Strange how some people will buy something so common to perch on their heads. But as an astute gentleman of commerce, I’ll supply the necessary straw as long as it’s needed.” Alastair grinned at her. “I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

He was boring but she wasn’t bored. There was too much activity at the Gilbert home, too many people to meet and converse with. But it was the thought of seeing Lark that night, of sneaking away to be alone. She existed for the moment when they would strip naked and make love for the rest of the night.

“Lady Arden, have you heard me?”

“What did you say? I’m sorry, Mr. Caine, my mind was wandering.”

“I said that Bettina seems to be having a merry time. “She’s a bit of a flirt, you know.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed,” Marlee replied but her sarcasm was lost on Alastair.

“She looks well despite her tribulations, don’t you agree?”

“Most definitely.” Marlee realized that Bettina looked better than well, she was incredibly beautiful in a gold gown which showed off her ample bosom and creamy skin to perfection. From the moment the unattached gentlemen had arrived, many of them military friends of Lord Gilbert’s, Bettina had been surrounded and admired. Her laughter drifted across the ballroom, her face glowed with excitement as one of the young officers led her onto the dance floor. Marlee couldn’t help but feel that Bettina’s attitude was quite odd for a young woman whose engagement had recently been broken. She appeared not to have a care in the world, not in the least crestfallen.

“Where is Lark?” asked Alastair. “He should be squiring his fiancée instead of these sea swains.”

“I believe he had things to look after on the ship,” she said and attempted to keep her expression blank. “He’ll be along, I’m certain.”

“Hmph! If Bettina were my fiancée, I wouldn’t let such a beautiful creature out of my sight for a moment.”

Marlee stole a glance at Alastair, her interest peaked. Could he be in love with Bettina? Or were these the outraged ramblings of a possessive relative?

Marlee was mercifully saved from any more of Alastair’s scathing comments by Holcombe who appeared at her elbow and asked if she’d care to dance. She gratefully accepted and was whisked onto the dance floor. “You should be dancing with a pretty young woman,” she told him.

“But I am, my lady,” he replied with a broad smile.

“Thank you, sir, but there are plenty of young ladies here who would love to dance with you, I’m certain. In fact, I’d wager that the young woman in the pink dress, speaking to Lord Gilbert, would like you to ask her. I’ve noticed that she’s cast more than an interested eye in your direction.”

Holcombe blushed and grinned. “I hope you’re right. I’ve been watching her all evening and I’d like to be introduced to her. Do you know her name?”

“Her name’s Arabella Landower and her mother is a great friend of Lady Olivia. I had tea with them just the other day. I think an introduction can be arranged,” Marlee assured the smitten young man.

When the dance ended, Marlee strolled with Holcombe over to where the shy Arabella stood with Lord Gilbert. After the introductions, Holcombe escorted Arabella Landower onto the dance floor.

“They make such a nice couple,” Lord Gilbert commented and patted his protruding abdomen. “Why, they’re as handsome a pair as my Bettina and Lark.”

Marlee couldn’t nod her head in agreement. She felt almost like a traitor to be a guest of Lord Gilbert and his wife when she knew that Lark didn’t love Bettina and would soon break the news to this kindly gentleman. If only this night were over. Lark had assured her that he’d tell Gilbert in the morning about the broken engagement, and then they’d be on their way to Virginia where she’d finally become Lark’s wife.

“I’d invite you to dance, Lady Arden, but I can’t. I do apologize.”

“That’s perfectly all right, sir, I heard you’d been ill and mustn’t overdo,” Marlee said.

“I’ll? Me?” Gilbert appeared confused and a bit annoyed with Marlee. “My dear, I’ve never been better. Just yesterday Doctor Manley said I shall live to be one hundred. However, I do have some joint pain, and that is all that precludes me from dancing. Wherever did you hear such an absurd rumor?”

Marlee stammered for words. She felt like a fool. Lark had told her that Gilbert wasn’t well, that he couldn’t speak to the man until after the party as not to upset him, to allow him to enjoy himself before he heard the distressing news. Where had Lark gotten such an erroneous idea? She floundered around for a way to extricate herself from this embarrassing situation when Lark suddenly appeared in the ballroom. Suddenly she felt light-headed and lighthearted.

As always he looked magnificent but even more so in a wine-colored jacket and black satin trousers. The high sheen of his black boots caught the reflections from the lights. His dark gaze scanned the room for Marlee. When he found her watching him, his lips turned up in a slow, sensual grin that she recognized so well. Without words, he was telling her that he looked forward to their time alone after this party, to the moment he possessed her body and soul.

Reaching Marlee and Lord Gilbert, Lark bowed and kissed Marlee’s hand before shaking the older man’s hand. Marlee wondered if Gilbert heard the heavy beating of her heart but apparently not. He pounded Lark heavily on the back in a friendly gesture. “I wondered what had happened to you, Lark,” Gilbert said and laughed. “I thought perhaps you’d decided not to join the party.”

“I’m sorry I was late,” Lark apologized, “but there were rumors of pirates being spotted offshore and I took out the ship to see if there might be a pirate vessel nearby.”

“Good heavens! Did you find one?”

“No, sir.”

Gilbert breathed a relieved sigh. “Ah, that’s good since most of the military men are here—and dancing with Bettina, I might add. You should be jealous, Lark. They’ve monopolized her every dance. But I think it’s your turn, now for here comes Bettina on the arm of young Lieutenant Carson.”

Bettina’s delighted laugh echoed throughout the ballroom when the music ended. She dashed toward Lark, young Carson barely able to keep up with her. “Lark, my darling,” she cried and flashed a radiant smile. She grabbed his arm, hanging onto his satin sleeve like a leech. “You were naughty to leave me at the mercy of such handsome young men. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming to the party.”

“I’m certain you did very well without me,” Lark said and acknowledged young Carson before the man went to join the other officers.

“Well, I feel hurt just the same. Mother and Father have gone to such trouble and expense for this party.”

“And a lovely party it is, too,” Lark agreed politely but appeared uncomfortable with Bettina’s clutching fingers digging into the material of his jacket.

Bettina narrowed her eyes at Marlee and asked her, “Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Arden? You seem to have lost the color in your cheeks. Are you well?”

“The party is wonderful and I’m quite well,” Marlee assured with a false smile. She didn’t feel well, not well at all with Bettina pawing Lark. What was wrong with the woman? Why was she so blatantly showy when she knew Lark wasn’t going to marry her? Was it only for appearances’ sake?

“I’m so glad. I shouldn’t like you to become ill.” Bettina dismissed Marlee with a less than concerned smile as people came over to greet Lark. Marlee found herself pushed aside by the crowd, almost buried in a corner behind a potted palm, as pleasantries were exchanged. More than once she heard Bettina’s shrill voice introducing Lark as her “fiancé.” She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. Why would Bettina keep referring to him in that fashion? Why did she suddenly feel so sick to her stomach when Lord Gilbert, flanked by his wife, daughter, and Lark, lifted his glass high in the air.

“A toast to my Bettina and Lark Arden,” Gilbert proclaimed in a loud, proud voice. “May the course of their lives run smoothly. And may God grant them children who are as beautiful as my daughter and as intelligent as her future husband.” Everyone clapped politely and toasted the couple. Gilbert’s voice rang out again. “All of you are invited to the wedding in a week’s time!”

A week’s time? Marlee heard this news as in a dream, and she noticed that Bettina took the congratulations from the guests in good stride. She didn’t look the least bit disturbed, as would a woman who knew she wasn’t going to be married. Either Bettina was a good actress or there really was going to be a wedding! Marlee glanced at Lark for confirmation that this was all a mistake. But he only shook the hands of the people that surrounded him, totally oblivious to Marlee’s shocked expression.

This was more than Marlee could bear. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fled the ballroom, nearly bumping into the stalwart chest of Alastair Caine. Something indefinably sad in his face told her that he was less than thrilled with this announcement—that his pain was as great as hers.

Lifting her skirts, Marlee ran outside onto the beach. She ran until her legs ached and she couldn’t take another step. Stopping, she tried to catch her breath but the sobs choked her until she wanted to retch. It was only when she glanced around did she realize that she’d stopped at the spot where Lark had made love to her. Groaning her agony, she slipped to the ground.

Lark had lied to her again! All of the things he’d told her were lies. Lark never intended to marry her, he hadn’t broken off with Bettina. No wonder Bettina had gone about as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Lark hadn’t broken the engagement, otherwise, Bettina wouldn’t have allowed her parents to plan a wedding when there wasn’t going to be a groom. And there wasn’t anything wrong with Lord Gilbert’s health as Lark had told her. Lark had lied to her about that, too!

When would she ever learn?

Wiping away her tears with her fists, Marlee took deep gulps of air into her lungs. She refused to cry anymore—so tired of shedding tears that her eyes burned and were probably so puffy she looked a mess. And all because she happened to love a rogue like Lark.

“Marlee! Marlee, are you here?”

Lark’s frantic cries sounded from the pathway and intruded into her misery. At first, she refused to answer him, cowering behind an oleander hedge like a frightened rabbit that had been hunted by a ferocious dog until it was trembling and weak with fear, and now only waited for the kill. She didn’t want to speak to him or see him again. But she hated acting like a coward—she was no fearful, little animal. Sooner or later, she’d be forced to confront the bounder and now was as good a time as any other. But what did he want with her? Hadn’t he hurt her enough?