Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) (14 page)

"If you were a man, there would be no cause," came the amused reply.

Season heard The Raven cross the room and open the door. She knew he had departed when she heard the key grate in the lock. For the longest time she lay, dry-eyed, staring into nothingness. Her body felt so different now, as if it no longer belonged only to her.

She laid her head on the soft pillow and a ragged sob escaped her lips. After tonight she would never be the same. She had been changed from a young girl who had dreamed of a man who would sweetly love her to a woman who felt betrayed by a dark figure with no name and no face.

"He will never touch me again," Season cried out to the dark room. Then she wept until she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

A steady wind was blowing as The Raven stood at the helm of the
Andromeda
, staring out to sea. He turned his unmasked face upward, locating the North Star. Drawing in a ragged breath he closed his eyes. Never before had he forced his attentions on a woman. He'd always followed an unwritten law and never bedded a virgin. He could argue that Lady Season had been willing when he finally took her, but that didn't excuse the deed. He reminded himself that she was English and the English had killed his Uncle Silas, but that didn't soothe his guilty feelings either.

He remembered how sweetly she had surrendered to him. How would he ever be able to get her out of his mind? She had reached deep inside him as no other woman had; Lady Season Chatsworth had touched his heart!

Never had he felt so alive. He felt as if he were a part of the stars that twinkled in the ebony skies. Even now, he could remember the feel of Season's satiny skin and the scent of her silky hair.

The Raven knew if he didn't exercise restraint over his emotions he would take her again. Lady Season Chatsworth had awakened a hunger in his body that no other woman would be able to feed. His hands gripped the ship's rail. If he wanted to do the right thing, he would set a new course and take her back to New York.

"Plot a course south by southwest, Briggs. We sail for the Barbary States!" The Raven ordered.

The first mate felt sorry, knowing that The Raven had decided not to give the lady her freedom, but he didn't hesitate to obey his captain's command.

10

Season pulled the chair over to the porthole and climbed onto it so she could see outside. It was a bright warm day, and she could hear the wind snap the canvas sails. She had no notion where the
Andromeda
was sailing, but one thing was certain, they had left behind the bleak cold weather in favor of warm sunny days. She wondered if they might be sailing for some exotic South Sea island or perhaps they were sailing to some distant pirate stronghold.

Season hadn't seen The Raven since that awful night two weeks ago when he had so artfully relieved her of her maidenhood. She had feared that he would seek her out again and the deed would be repeated, but when he hadn't come to her, she had begun to relax.   

She tried her best to put that night out of her thoughts. In the daytime she was partially successful, but sometimes at night she would dream of a deep raspy voice whispering in her ear and she could almost feel his caressing hands touching her body. Season couldn't understand what was happening to her. One part of her wanted The Raven to seek her out again, but another was shamed at what had happened to her. And her body was alive with a new and sometimes frightening awareness.

James came daily to the cabin. He and Season spent their time together playing cards, or sometimes she read to him from The Raven's one book. Each evening Briggs took her topside for a stroll on deck. At those times she always feared she would encounter the dark captain, but thus far he had not appeared. Season found herself searching the deck for The Raven and was confused by her growing need to see him.

Time lay heavily on her hands, and some days she would pace the floor restlessly. She remembered the peaceful, lazy days she had spent at Chatsworth, riding Cinibar across the green meadows, feeling free and light-hearted. Those days were gone forever. She felt she would never see Chatsworth, or England, again.

Season did not understand why The Raven had taken her prisoner. She didn't know if he had presented a ransom demand to her father. She wondered what plan he had in mind for her. Had he taken her for his own pleasure, or did he plan to harm her in some way? It was hard for her to believe that the hands which had caressed her so gently that night could one day deliver her a deathblow.

Now Season rose from the chair and began to pace the floor. Somehow she couldn't seem to curb her restlessness. She had read and reread The Raven's book of poetry many times. She had even spent hours poring over his maps.

It is well past the noon hour, and yet the tray which contains the remains of my lunch still sits on the desk, she was thinking absentmindedly when she heard a rap on the cabin door. Season hesitated to answer, fearing it would be The Raven.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"It's me, James, ma'am."

"Come in," she called gratefully. She welcomed his visit because time seemed to lie more heavily on her hands than it usually did.

Season heard the key grinding in the lock, and the door swung open to reveal James's smiling face. "I brought you some lemons," he said, wrinkling his nose, knowing how she always detested the bitter fruit.

"I don't want them. You can either eat them yourself or throw them into the sea," she said with ill grace.

"You know it's the captain's orders. He don't want you coming down with the scurvy. He told me to see that you had at least one lemon a day."

Season did not want to go against The Raven's orders because to do so might bring him to the cabin again. She took the fruit and bit into it, shivering at its bitter taste. She knew the captain had ordered every member of his crew to eat a lemon each day, but she didn't particularly like the idea.

"I see you didn't eat much of your lunch, ma'am. The captain won't like it none if he finds out," James said, concern in his voice.

"I would think the captain would have better things to do with his time than worry about whether I eat or not." She squeezed the lemon so hard the juice ran through her fingers. "Do you report everything I do to The Raven, James? I thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend, ma'am, but the captain always asks me about your health and if you're eating properly. I have to obey his orders."

"What or how much I eat is no concern of your captain's. I am not a child that needs to be looked after," she said, licking the lemon juice from her lips.

James stared at Season, dumfounded. He had grown to admire her in the past few weeks. He had never before criticized The Raven's judgment, but he couldn't understand why he was holding Lady Season against her will. Silas Dunsberry was dead, and there was no longer anything to be gained by keeping the lady a prisoner.

"Sit and talk to me for a while, James. I am so lonesome. Talk to me about anything; I want to hear what you have been doing."

James nodded his head and sat down cross-legged on the cabin floor. He was always glad for a chance to talk to Season.

"I been busy helping patch the sails. The captain says we're in for a big blow sometime tonight."

Season looked toward the window. "It won't be as bad as the other storm, will it, James?" she asked, remembering the storm that had terrified her beyond belief.

"I fear this storm's gonna be a bad one, ma'am. The captain said I was to remove everything from this cabin that wasn't battened down."

Season's eyes darted about the cabin fearfully. "You are making me very frightened, James."

"There ain't nothing to fear. I will stay with you like I did the last time if you want me to."

Season stood up and walked over to the porthole. She climbed onto the chair so she could see out. "The sky looks clear, James. I do not see any sign of a storm."

"If you was able to look leeward, ma'am, you would see the dark storm clouds that are gathering, and the sea is already getting choppy."

"Will we be in danger, James?"

"No, ma'am," James said confidently. "When the captain's at the helm, there ain't nothing to worry about."

Season's green eyes seemed to cloud over at the mention of the captain. The crew of the
Andromeda
seemed to think he could do anything. They rushed around to obey his slightest command, but fearing him as she did, she would well imagine why none of them wanted to cross the dark captain. She stepped off the chair and sat down, resting her chin on her folded hands.

"Tell me about your captain, James. What is he really like?"

James shifted uncomfortably. "There ain't much I can tell you about The Raven, ma'am. He's a good patriot and has taken many English ships as prize." James's face flushed and he reluctantly looked into Season's eyes. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, I sometimes forget that you are English."

Season laughed. "Don't bother apologizing, James. You may forget that I am English, but I can assure you I never do. I would expect you to be loyal to your captain, although how you can think so highly of a man like him is well beyond my comprehension."

"He's a good man. There's not one of the crew who would consider serving under any other captain. Every one of us would fight to the death alongside him."

Season could see the admiration shining in the young boy's eyes. "Perhaps your notion of a good man differs from mine, James. How do you excuse his taking me captive?"

"When the captain kidnapped you, ma'am, he was desperate. A man called Silas Dunsberry had been arrested in New York. It was the captain's intention to exchange you for Mr. Dunsberry."

"Why was the exchange never made, James?" Season wanted to know.

"The exchange couldn't be made, ma'am; Silas Dunsberry was hung by the British."

Season felt a prickle of uneasiness. "When did your captain find out about the execution of Mr. Dunsberry, James?"

"It was two weeks ago today, ma'am. I remember it well, 'cause the captain was in an awful rage."

Season closed her eyes, remembering the night he had come to the cabin and ruined her life. She realized he had taken his revenge out on her that night.

"What will happen to me now?" she wondered aloud.

"I don't know what the captain's plans are. He was powerfully close to Mr. Dunsberry. You don't need to worry though. He would never harm a lady."

Season wondered what James would think if he knew his captain had already harmed her beyond repair, but she decided it would be best not to talk about her own situation. "Tell me why your captain hides his face behind a disguise. Have you ever seen him without his mask?"

"Aye, the captain does not wear his mask when he's on board the Andromeda."

"What does he look like, James?"

"I can't tell you that, ma'am. We of the crew are honor bound not to reveal his identity to anyone. There isn't a man aboard who would betray the captain," James said, avoiding her eyes. He knew he had already said too much.

Relief washed over James when he heard a rap on the door. He was glad to see Briggs had come to help him remove the loose furnishings and carry them below to be stored until after the storm.

It was just after sundown when the
Andromeda
began to roll and pitch drunkenly. The howl of the gale force winds could be heard above the roar of the waves. Season clenched her hands tightly and curled up in the middle of the bed, while James sat in a chair, talking to her calmly.

"I'd rather be at sea in a storm than on land, ma'am. I never liked to be on land much anyway."

"Tell me about your life, James," she said, trying to find something that would take her mind off the storm.

"I don't remember my ma that much, and I never saw my pa. It was said that me and my ma lived above a blacksmith shop in Boston, but I don't remember that. I was on my own from the time I was seven until the captain found me and took me on board the
Andromeda
."

"Is the captain also from Boston?" Season asked, thinking she might find a clue to The Raven's identity.

James smiled as if he knew she was trying to trip him up. "The captain likes to say he resembles the foam upon the waves, drifting in and out with the tide, with no permanent home."

At that moment a huge wave slapped against the ship and sent the vessel careening over on her side, spilling Season onto the cabin floor. As the ship pitched and slowly righted itself, James helped Season back to the bed.

"I was ordered to tie you to the bed when the sea got rough. I think the time has come," the lad stated. Withdrawing a length of rope from his pocket, James smiled at Season. "Will you allow me to tie you to the bed, ma'am?"

"Only if you will stay with me as you did before, James. I'm so frightened!"

"I'll stay with you 'til this blow is over," he agreed. After he fastened the rope about her slim waist and secured the other end to the bedpost, James tied another rope about his own waist and then sat beside Season on the bed.

The cabin had become dark since they weren't allowed to light a lantern. Season sought James's hand and felt it tremble so she clutched it tightly. He was no more than a boy, she reminded herself. Although he presented a brave front, she realized he was doing it for her benefit. He was every bit as frightened as she.

Neither of them could sleep because it soon became clear to them that this storm was far worse than the previous one had been. All through the long, horrible night the
Andromeda
rolled and pitched, while Season and James clung to each other for comfort.

When Season could make herself heard above the storm, she talked to James about growing up on Chatsworth, but still the hours seemed to drag. Just before dawn, when the storm seemed to have abated, Season and James closed their eyes in sleep.

During the day Season awoke to the sound of a key grating in the lock, and Briggs entered the cabin. She noticed that he looked worn and haggard, obviously exhausted from his battle with the sea.

"Briggs, thank goodness the sea has calmed," Season said, loosening the rope about her waist and trying not to disturb James.

"The storm is only half over, my lady," Briggs replied, grim-faced. "This calm won't last long. At the moment we are in the eye of the hurricane, but soon we'll have to deal with the backside of it."

Season's eyes were large with fright. "Do you mean we must go through another storm as devastating as the one last night?" she asked in horror.

"I fear so, my lady, but it won't be any worse than the other one. The captain will be at the helm just as he was last night."

Season was irritated now, as well as frightened. She was weary of hearing how well the captain could steer a ship. Did all the men aboard the
Andromeda
think their captain invulnerable? Did they think he alone could battle nature and come out the winner?

She was about to voice her irritation, when James awoke, untied himself, and moved toward the door. "I'm going topside to see the damage," he announced, sleepily trudging toward the door.

"If you are of a mind to, my lady, you could go topside for a breath of fresh air. There's some broken rigging, but it won't be dangerous to you," Briggs said.