Till Dawn Tames the Night (33 page)

"Isaac will wait for us at Dieppe Bay if he doesn't see us at the docks. If we stay in the cane, we should be there in an hour." He was restrained and instructional.
Nothing more.
She glanced at him and noticed he had dressed. He stared down at her bare feet,
then
his gaze wandered the room as if searching for something. He disappeared into an anteroom and in a moment, he came back with a pair of the governor's silk slippers. They almost fit. The governor, she discovered, was a very tiny man.

"Of course, you know he'll discover we were here," she said, her voice tight and frigid.

"Who?"

"The governor."

He paused, a wry smile twisting his lips. In silence, he walked to a pair of red-and-gold fretwork pedestals where matching Chinese vases flanked the door. He picked up one vase and walked to the bed. He tossed it upon the bed, the huge green dragon painted across it releasing its fiery stare to the scarlet upholstered ceiling of the bedstead.

"Now he'll know we were here," he said.

She looked at him, despairing for his very soul. He took her cold hand, and together they stole out of the mansion.

Dieppe Bay was a shallow inlet surrounded by coral reefs. When they arrived, Aurora could see the lights of the
Seabravery
anchored far beyond the reefs. The ship looked so
unreachable,
she didn't know how she would summon the energy to continue. She was exhausted. The sand in her slippers cut into the soles of her feet; her arms were slashed by cane. If she stumbled over one more coconut, she was sure she would fall to her knees and never get to her feet again.

Ahead Vashon stood in the surf, looking across the moonlit bay, searching for something she couldn't see. She fell back against the trunk of a palm, drained. She still couldn't "make herself accept what had happened back at the governor's mansion. If she'd fought him harder, would that have changed the course of the night? Depression sank into her like water into sand. She closed her eyes, wanting never to think of this night again. No, fighting him wouldn't have worked. His seduction was too brilliant. When force hadn't produced the desired result, he'd simply used more subtle means. He'd convinced her that his gentleness and caring were real. But now, seeing his taut, rigid back, she knew it must have been a sham. Though something in her heart cried out that this was not so, she refused to listen to it. Instead she focused on Vashon's cold figure, and all her fears were reinforced.

Nothing would have stopped this night. She'd had that dream, that wretched, soul-consuming
dream,
and she'd never been able to forget it. Now she'd learned her lesson and it had been a hard one. "Soiled doves," Mrs. Blue-field had once called women like her. With a sharp pain Aurora also remembered how those same women left their bastards at the Home by the dozens.

She watched Vashon slowly wander back to where she stood. His face was in shadow when he spoke.

"The dinghy's been launched. The
Seabravery
will sail as soon as we
reboard
."

She didn't comment. She merely stood against the tree and gazed out at the ocean rolling in like a black cloud. She felt about as warm and alive as a marble statue.

"Aurora?" He reached out to touch her. She quickly pulled back.

"Look at me," he told her, but she refused, keeping her eyes instead on the ocean and the liquid reflection of moonlight upon it.

"You disappoint me, love." Annoyance was heavy in his voice. "I'd hoped that rigid little schoolmistress would stay away awhile longer."

His harsh words sent an unexpected wave of pain through her. She turned away. Her tears froze in her eyes. "I assure you she is back. And she will never leave again," she answered coldly.

"No wonder old Phipps let you go."

She gasped and sought his face in the darkness. His smirk was unmistakable. "What do you know of John Phipps?" she burst out, wild irrational fury burgeoning in her breast. "Nothing!" she spat. "You haven't the nobility or grace to even follow in his footsteps!"

"And was he so perfect then?"

"Yes! Yes! Utterly perfect!" she hissed, hating him more than ever at that moment. Anyone could see John was the better man. So how could Vashon possess this maddening ability to make her want him, and only him?

"So perfect that you fled without a clue to where you were going?
Or to
whom
you were going?" he said meaningfully.

"If I'd known this night was to happen, I never would have left!"

He grabbed her arms. "But maybe that's the reason you did leave. Maybe you wanted this night every bit as much as I did. Maybe old Phipps wasn't the man you claim him to be—"

She snatched her arm back,
then
cracked her hand hard across his handsome cheek. He was closer to the truth than he would ever know, but she'd carry it to her grave before she'd ever admit it. "He was a gentleman," she lashed out, "not a
rapist."

He grabbed back her arm, this time brutally. "And were these rapist's hands that had you moaning beneath me tonight? And are these scratches on my back from a woman desperate to run from me . . . or to me?"

A muffled sob escaped her; she refused to look at him. All her vows of no more tears crumbled in front of her.

He let go of her arm, for the moment willing to allow her some peace. He stepped back, but then commented, "Of course, this miserable adventure could have been avoided entirely if you hadn't feigned that stupid illness."

"Or if you hadn't kidnapped me—or if your head weren't wanted everywhere from here to Kingdom Come!" she cried.

"You crossed me, love. You lied and endangered both our lives. You could not expect to come out unscathed."

"This was not my fault," she whispered, cursing her voice that was supposed to stay cool and detached, cursing her face that was supposed to look so dispassionate. She looked away but not before her eyes revealed her hurt.

Gently he said, "No, it wasn't your fault. I take the blame for what happened at the governor's mansion. But all I want is that emerald. You help me find it and we'll forget this night. Forget that it ever happened."

"How?" she asked, almost hysterical. "I'll never forget it as easily as you. It was my blood we left on those sheets, not yours." As if it would purge her, she suddenly lashed out at him. She beat on his shoulders until she felt something warm and sticky on her fists. Horrified, she realized she'd made his wound bleed anew.

"Go ahead, take out your anger," he said tightly. "Then forget about it. For I swear to you, this night was a mistake. It will never
ever
happen again."

She began to cry in earnest, but whether it was because she had hurt him or because his vow cut her like a knife, she didn't know.

When the dinghy pulled up on the beach, Isaac jumped out, hardly able to contain his relief that they were both all right. He first went to Vashon, but when his gaze fell on Aurora's quiet, tattered figure, he immediately seemed to sense something was terribly wrong. His exuberance at seeing them died. With nary a greeting, they climbed into the dinghy and set out for the
Seabravery
in utter silence.

"Aurora! Love! I've been beside myself with worry! Thank God you're—" Flossie stopped dead in her tracks when the party
reboarded
the ship. She took one look at Aurora's face in the flickering ship's light, noting her knotted hair, her glistening sorrowful eyes, and it seemed in that instant Flossie knew everything. The stare she gave Vashon should have killed him on the spot.

Vashon ignored the widow's lethal scrutiny and nodded to Benny, who waited by the
afterhouse
. "Miss
Dayne
requires her own cabin," he said tightly. "See to it that she has her old one back."

"Aye, sir."

"Isaac." He turned to the captain. "Did Neville and his men manage to refill our water caskets?"

"Yes."

"Without incident?"

"They were back at their estates before midnight."

"Then we sail immediately for Mirage."

"Very good," Isaac answered.

Vashon then turned to Aurora. He looked as if the last thing on earth he wanted to do was to meet her hurt-filled gaze in the clear lantern light of the ship. "Miss
Dayne
," he said with studied control, "I suggest you retire to your cabin. You'll need your rest. When we arrive at Mirage, my pursuit of that emerald will be relentless."

"Very good," she answered acidly, mimicking Isaac.

He ignored her. "Benny will escort you."

"He will not," Flossie interjected. "I shall escort Aurora to her cabin. And this time no one shall keep me from her."

"As you wish," he
conceded,
his voice as cold as snow.

Aurora looked at him; their gazes clashed like fire and ice. When she finally felt Flossie take her arm and lead her away, she swore she saw something like regret in his eyes. But before that emotion could fully take hold, the dragon appeared and burned it all away.

When Flossie and Aurora were alone in her old cabin, Aurora sank down on her bunk and silently stared at the rafters. There seemed nothing to say. Words would never sort out the emotions that now boiled within her. Flossie seemed to sense this. She simply held her until Benny brought her things from Vashon's cabin.

When Benny left, Flossie lifted Aurora's chin and looked with concern at her tear-ravaged face. Aurora's aqua eyes seemed impossibly big for her pale, delicate features. Her mouth was drawn into a tight pain-filled crescent. Flossie looked close to bursting into tears herself.

"Aurora," she said in her practical fashion, "we must give in and find this stupid emerald Isaac told me about. Let Vashon have it. That's the only way. And when we do, you shall come live with me on St. George's and we shall forget this horrible voyage and—"

"No!" Aurora stood up and began to pace the cabin floor. Her hand went to the lizard locket and she fingered it as if it were a talisman. "I'll never give in to him. Not now."

"Listen to me, love." Flossie held out her arms. "They aren't going to kill us, we both realize that. And in light of this evening's . . . incidents, I think the best solution is to capitulate. Tell Vashon what you know and let him have what he wants. Then we can be sure no more . . . incidents will occur."

"Absolutely not.
I will not help that—that—
pirate
find his plunder! Not even if my life was truly in danger!"

"But there's still a danger if this voyage continues. Have you given thought to it?"

"What danger?" she scoffed, glancing at Flossie. "Of course I worry about you, but Vashon wouldn't harm you, it's obvious he thinks too highly of you. And I dare say Isaac wouldn't do anything. In fact, I won't be surprised to find him growing fond of you."

"But what about a babe, have you thought of that?
Vashon's baby?"

Aurora's face slowly showed her horror. Flossie had finally given words to the unspeakable.

Seeing her fear, the widow sprang to her feet and took her hand. "Never fear, my dear. It's unlikely that tonight . . .
well,
let's just count our blessings that there probably won't be one. But if this voyage continues—"

"If not tonight, then there won't be one," Aurora answered adamantly.

"But how do you know? I can see how Vashon's intrigued by you. It's hard to keep a man like that at bay once he's already . . ." Flossie blushed. Her eyes apologized for the indelicate nature of their discussion.

"Never again," Aurora vowed, shaking her head. And it was true. She had let him inside, allowed him to see feelings she should have never shown. Right now he was probably remembering their liaison and laughing about it, laughing at her awkwardness and innocence and
naivete
.

But no more.
If she lived to be a hundred, no man would ever see those feelings again. If she were fortunate enough not to have to pay for her night with him with a child, then she would forget she had ever lain with him, forget she ever knew what it felt like to have his hands on her, or his arms around her, or hear his heart beat against her palm.

"It will never happen again," she repeated softly.

"My little lambs didn't all survive, but Mr. Lindstrom and I had fourteen children saying that."

Aurora put a shaking hand to her temple. Yesterday all she had wanted to do was to try and escape. Now because of that everything was spinning out of control.

"Oh, I shan't go on." Flossie squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring little smile. "I can see you're exhausted. Sleep, my darling. We'll decide what to do when you've rested."

"I won't give in, Flossie. Not now."

Flossie turned and studied her. Not finding evidence of what she sought, she asked gently, "Did he force you then, Aurora? Is that it? Was he so cruel that you're willing to fight to the end to keep him from getting what he wants?"

Aurora looked away, her guilt-ridden eyes telling Flossie more than she wanted her to know. Vashon hadn't forced her; he'd been far too skillful for that. She almost broke down when she thought how willingly she'd surrendered.