The Winds of Fate (35 page)

“Mr. Wolf, I just visited your wife. She is in pain,” Claire bit her lip, altering the facts that implied his wife was in labor never revealing she had a stubbed toe. The giant blinked and flew out the door.

Without knocking, she sailed into the library, Devon in her sights, and oblivious to a visitor seated in a high back chair.

“Of all the low, despicable wretched decisions you have made, this has got to be the worst. Why have you denied Lily and Robert to marry?”

“That is an affair I will not discuss now.” His tone incensed her further.

Claire plunked herself in front of his desk. “When will his lordship, the mighty Black Devil condescend to discuss this affair?”

“I am busy and will address it at my convenience.”

“Convenience! You arrogant, proud, preening peacock. We will discuss−” Devon’s attention stayed focused behind her. Hairs on Claire’s neck stood up.

“Captain Blackmon. She is a beauty in a fit of rage. How could I forget? I see you have kept her captive. Not for ransom? Perhaps a liaison?”

That voice
. She whirled. “Captain Le Trompeur. What are you doing here?”

“You are not happy to see me?” He sat suavely in his chair, his lewd gaze traveled over her face and body.

Claire’s anger evaporated. A cold knot formed in her stomach. Did the air change? She couldn’t breathe. She glanced uncertainly at Devon, his face a mask of stone. The muscles on his forearm hardened beneath his sleeve. A chill black silence enveloped the room. An undercurrent lay heavy and palpable between the two men.

Le Trompeur broke the silence. “I have come on a mission of diplomacy. To end our enmity and strike our partnership anew. I paid my half of the
Santa Luga
in which I was absently remiss. In good faith, I begged pardon of Captain Blackmon.” He flashed a lecherous smile.

She stiffened. “I will return later, Devon-I mean Captain Blackmon.” Too late, her mistake. Her familiarity with Devon picked up by Le Trompeur. His ferret eyes missed nothing.

“No, Mademoiselle. I insist you stay and charm us with your presence.” He leaped from his chair, his movements like the lithe strength of a panther. He took her hand, pressing it to his lips. “It is too bad Mademoiselle, we did not sail together. Perhaps another time?”

Claire jerked her hand away and shuddered, the blackness of his eyes masked the souls of a hundred demons. “That is doubtful, sir.”

“Perhaps in the future we will spend some time together, Mademoiselle?” He laughed his challenge. A trapdoor opened in the floor of her stomach.

Devon stepped between them. “That will be all, Le Trompeur. The lady will be put at an English port to sail to England.” They exchanged polite smiles. “Women make you stupid, Le Trompeur, a flaw in your nature.”

“Well met, my friend. With the Captain’s permission, I beg to do repairs for four weeks.”

“Ten days is sufficient,” growled Devon with a chilled comportment that excluded all argument.

“May I be sunk in everlasting hell if I have not departed by then,” Le Trompeur made a study of his nails.

“Make haste with your repairs and one final word of caution.” Devon swept his hand to the door. “Do not lay a hand on anything that is mine, otherwise your visit will precipitate your departure to the nether world. My sword will target a more vital organ the next time.”

Beneath a flash of hostility, Le Trompeur vented incredulity, daring a flitting glance up and down Claire. “By the saints, whatever do you mean? It’s as if I took Holy Orders. I assure you, Captain Blackmon, my thinking is clear and your message well read.” Le Trompeur bowed with mild amusement.

Abu Ajir flew in the window and perched on Devon’s shoulder, turned his head and eyed Le Trompeur with its cold black eyes. The Frenchman’s amusement vanished. He stepped back, caught Claire staring then straightened abruptly. Had she seen a flash of fear in the Frenchman’s eyes? Was he superstitious? He strode from the room with a cavalier, “
Au revoir
.”

Devon raked his hands through his hair. “Now what was so important that it couldn’t have waited?” He dropped into his chair, propped his feet upon his desk. Most women would have cowered in front of the French pirate.

“Lily and Robert−you’ve made a grievous error concerning their future.”

He stared at her over his steepled fingers. Instead of her being concerned of Le Trompeur’s threats, she worried over an entirely different matter. “Sit down, Claire,” he commanded. “Do you understand the damage you’ve done?” He sighed through his teeth. Removing himself from her proximity, sleeping on his ship at night had not released that howling beast that had taken up residence in his head.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Le Trompeur has seen you here. I don’t trust him. He’s dangerous.

“That’s not the matter I wish to address. My concern is for Lily and Robert. How can you not allow them to marry? Your command defies any rational thought and is cruel. I cannot believe you made such an unconscionable decision.”

Hell
.

He folded his arms. “So what do you want me to do about it?”

“Do about it? I cannot believe you made such a dreadful decision. They are made for each other. How could you tear them apart?”

Reason. His mind floundered. He must focus on reason. It did no good to think about Claire. He’d been a fool to hope. She had one path and he had another.

“You’re going back to England where you belong. Lily is going with you. I will not have you living a life alone. End of discussion.” He attempted to do what was honorable. Some sense of pity for her stole into his soul as he remembered her painful story. He remembered every word and deed about her heartless bastard of an uncle.

“If you have any sense of humanity, please allow them to marry. Don’t let them be torn apart, to abandon all hope, to live sad and lonely lives when they need to be together.”

Her thick lashes were spiky with tears. Did she realize she talked of Devon and herself?

“Before I consider your wish regarding Lily and Robert, you must agree to a concession.”

Claire stiffened at his suggestion. Her lovely face mirrored the suspicious direction of her thinking.
The promise
. A long forgotten memory flickered across Devon’s mind as he gazed at her. “We’ve come a long way for our parting to not end on friendly terms.”

“Of course. What is the concession you demand?” she said guardedly.

“If you had all the money in the world,” Devon gauged her, “What would you wish for?”

Claire walked to the window and gazed out to the sea. “At one time, I desired a modest home in the city, a place with my children to
love and a husband to−all very simple. But now−” She sent him a rueful smile, her voice tinged with sadness. “That’s all behind me.”

She didn’t finish, but Devon filled in the blanks. He knew in that instant Claire would never marry again. In a roundabout way, she was informing him exactly of that notion. Despite her denying their marital status, her incredible moral nature would prevent her from committing such a sin and dishonoring the vows she had spoken to him.

“Above all,” she added, “A place for my family that was Safe. Sound. Secure.”

“We all have those dreams, Claire,” Devon interrupted.

Claire nodded her head, the wistful yearning heard in her soft voice. “I guess the reality is, I’ll be getting my freedom.”

Devon frowned, thinking of her bittersweet words. She’d convinced herself that a future between them was impossible. “Have you given any thought on how a single woman with very little means will survive?”

Claire drew a long steadying breath, “I’ll make do. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. What was the concession you required?”

Devon rose and walked to her side. A constriction in his chest kept his arms at his sides when in actuality, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms. Her huge eyes were shining and she swiped at a single tear. He produced a handkerchief and made her blow her nose. She got hold of her sorrow, but barely.

“My concession is for you to promise me you’ll contact my solicitor in England. He was an English captive I freed on a Spanish ship and one I’ve developed a business relationship that I can trust. I’ll have an account set up for you to withdraw funds in London. You’ll want for nothing. I guarantee, your wish to live independently and undisturbed will be fulfilled.” He didn’t inform her she would be able to live in the grandest style, wanting for nothing.

“Devon, I cannot take any money from you,” Claire protested.

Reaching out, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Claire,” he said with quiet firmness, “I will not give into your denial. Either you accept my terms or Lily goes back to London with you.”

“Somehow I feel you will allow Lily and Robert to marry despite what I commit too.”

His jaw hardened with icy resolve. She looked so small and helpless. But she wasn’t. She never had been. She didn’t need him.
She was an independent woman
. “Do you really want to take that risk?”

He held her gaze.

“Wolf!”

The Colossus stomped into the room. Sweat poured off of him. “Captain?”

“You look like you’ve run a race.” Had Wolf abandoned his post? He held no inclination to pursue the matter further or to consider why the giant crossed his arms and glared with his one eye at Claire. “I want you to sail out immediately and find out what Le Trompeur is up to−and−to fetch a parson.” The tremulous smile Claire bestowed on him said it all. Relief. Joy. Happiness. If only he could be the true beneficiary of that smile.

“I’ll miss you,” he said. It would be impossible to forget her.

Claire burst into tears. She fell automatically into his embrace, sobbing.

“There now, Claire, things will be fine. You’ve a bright future ahead.” And because he didn’t know what else to do to cope with the loss of the most precious thing in his life, Devon closed his eyes and held her, soothing away her pain, the wound in his soul incurable. He suffered the greatest sacrifice of his life, letting her go.

From a hectic day, readying the
Sea Scorpion
for its next voyage, Devon swung around and entered through the back to his library, a relief to be alone for a moment. Lily was seated with her arms folded across her chest. So much for solitude.

“If you don’t mind, I’ve work to catch up on.” His remark wrought a rude form of dismissal, but he didn’t care, impatient to be alone.

“I’m not leaving,” said Lily.

For an endless moment their gazes locked as they assessed one another. “Faith now, you dare to disrespect a command?” He sat taken aback by Claire’s diminutive cousin. He liked Lily, but this stubborn side, he’d not seen before. Devon poured himself a drink.

“You do not appear to be the type of man who would let the woman he loves go. Please indicate if my notion of you rings true.”

Devon threw back the entire contents of his glass then confirmed her accurate conclusion with a slight, mocking inclination of his head. “It’s my business you’re airing.”

Lily blinked owl eyes, her disapproval conveyed through her spectacles. “Not entirely. Not where my cousin, Claire is concerned.”

“I assume Robert knows you’re here.”

“Of course, I told him I came here to thank you for allowing us to marry.” She put up her hand. “Claire informed me. What’s more, I would always be honest with my husband. And I would expect nothing
less
of him.” She let that comment snake over and strangle him for a while. His earlier assumptions on Claire’s guileless cousin vanished, and his opinion of Lily climbed another notch. She was craftier than he presumed.

“You should know, Claire never betrayed you. She was in a terrible tempest the night of your escape because she had seen you in a compromised position with Anne Jensen.” Lily looked down her nose disapprovingly then went on to tell him what had happened that night when Jarvis overheard their conversation. “Claire has discovered a deed that indicates she may own the plantation in Jamaica. She is traveling to England to fight for what she feels is hers, and what she believes her father would have wanted her to do. In a way, her mission washes away her muddled sense of abandonment from when her parents died and left her behind. Claire is complex and has made many sacrifices. At stake, she would prefer an unlived life, of unreached potential and unfulfilled dreams. It lay there etched in an indelible impression, in a primitive part of her mind that reacts as self-preservation. Safe. Sound. Secure.”

Vulnerable against the world, and all of what she endured, was under the guise of independence. She panicked whenever he got
too close, putting up impenetrable barriers. Her sense of abandonment was a fire breathing dragon that struck at the core of her being, leaving her wounded and fearful of attachment.
Safe. Sound. Secure
. She had uttered those very words to him. Those were the things Claire was looking for and he’d do his damnedest to make her believe he’d make that happen. Devon raked his fingers through his hair.

“You better take charge and communicate your feelings with Claire.” Lily eyed him like a pelican ready to snap. “She is my cousin and my dearest friend. I do not want to see her hurt.”