Wild Bells to the Wild Sky (71 page)

If he had to lose Lily to another an, then at least Simon was a Whitelaw, and he could exert a certain influence in their lives. He would see to it that no harm ever befell Lily. If she chose his nephew, he would make certain Simon never brought Lily any unhappiness. Valentine ran a shaky hand through his hair when he envisioned any man other than himself lying with Lily.

Valentine Whitelaw forced himself to look away from Lily, to keep his mind on the task before him-there would be time enough later to worry about Lily Christian's future when they returned to England.

"Every inch of it, lads! I don't want to see any slack in that line," he called to a group of seamen hauling on a rope. "Haul taut, there!" he reminded, the unusual harshness and impatience in their captain's voice
giving
cause for several of the reprimanded hands to exchange curious glances.

The
Madrigal's
captain signaled to the coxswain to prepare to lower the boat.

"Prepare to lower away!" the cry sounded.

"If you can manage to tear yourselves away from each other's loving caresses long enough to board, we might be able to beach the boat before nightfall," Valentine spoke brusquely to a startled Lily and Simon who'd been laughing at a shared jest and had not heard his quiet approach from behind, where he now stood staring, arms folded across his wide chest.

He did not miss the guilty flush that stained her cheeks, and he misunderstood the reason for it, thinking his nephew had wasted little time in whispering loving words into her ear.

"I'm sorry, Valentine," Simon began, although with a puzzled expression, for it wasn't yet noon. "We were just laughing at that porp
-
-"

Simon's explanation was cut short, rudely interrupted when the captain spoke sarcastically, unable to contain the jealousy that had surged through him when hearing their soft laughter. "And in future, have the decency not to fondle each other in the presence of my crew. When we return to England I will see that the banns are posted and then you can find a secluded arbor to make love in, or you may boldly do so in St. James's for the whole world to see. But while aboard my ship you will maintain yourselves in a discreet manner," he warned them.

Eyeing Lily Christian up and down with his narrowed gaze, he said, "And you, Mistress Christian, would do well to remember to wear a petticoat. It would do much to help the morale aboard this ship."

Simon Whitelaw stared at his uncle, flabbergasted by the undeserved attack.

"Aye, aye Cap'n, sir," Lily said with a defiant glance, but Simon could see her lips trembling under the harsh criticism. Without another word, Lily swung her skirts around and marched across the deck to disappear below.

"You know, Uncle Valentine, I used to think you could do no wrong, that you had the answer to everything," Simon said. "Indeed, you may know more about the sea and captaining a ship than most men, but you sure as hell don't know much about women," Simon declared, his dark eyes full of
resentment, but
before Valentine could try to explain or even apologize, the young man had walked over to the rail, prepared to board the boat that had just been lowered into the water.

Valentine Whitelaw began to feel like the fool he'd just played so well, and it did not help his disposition to catch the Turk's concerned gaze on him, as if worried his captain was losing his senses. Nor did it add to his temper a few minutes later to
watch as
Lily Christian sauntered across the deck to follow Simon into the boat below, the fine ruffles of her petticoat displayed for all eyes to admire.

"Up oars! Stand by to shove off!" the coxswain called, waiting for his captain to climb aboard.

Valentine Whitelaw glanced down below, where Lily and Simon and the boat's crew had taken their seats in the small boat. He nodded to his first mate, who came hurrying over.

"Master Blackstone, you have your orders and you will carry them out. Keep a vigilant watch"

"Aye, aye, sir," the first mate, a pleasant-faced man in his late twenties, responded.

"I leave you in charge then, Master Blackstone," Valentine Whitelaw said before following the Turk into the boat below

"Bear off, now!"

The bowmen aboard fended off the boat, pushing it away from the
Madrigal's
side with long, wooden shafts with brass hooks on the ends.

"Let fall!" the coxswain called when they were safely away, the oars dropping into the water.

"Give way together, lads!" the coxswain called, the oarsmen starting to row, their oars stroking evenly through the water.

As the boat neared shore, Simon Whitelaw had a difficult time keeping his seat, and even once Valentine had reached out and, with a hand placed firmly on his shoulder, reseated him before he fell overboard.

Lily could understand Simon's excitement, for as the oarsmen sent the boat flying through the narrow channel that cut between the sharp-toothed reefs, she felt a shiver spreading through her as she recognized the curve of sandy shore and the rocky headland shielding the peaceful cove where they'd once frolicked, the rest of the world forgotten-
-
until the sickness had come and, later, the
Madrigal
had appeared on the horizon.

Lily watched Valentine for a moment, wondering what he was thinking. Perhaps he was remembering the last time the
Madrigal
had dropped anchor just beyond the reefs and he'd come ashore hoping to find Basil. Lily's gaze moved away to encounter the Turk's dark, unfathomable eyes watching her and she had the strange sensation that he still did not trust her.

"Pull! Pull! Pull, mates, pull!" The blades dipped in and out of the water, propelling the boat closer to shore.

" 'Tis beautiful," Simon breathed, his wide-eyed gaze drinking in the lush beauty of the palms and the sea of tall grasses that moved restlessly in the warm trades. Staring at the sun-bleached beach that rose beyond the curl of waves foaming against the shore, he could suddenly envision his father walking along that lonely stretch of sand, perhaps staring north, toward England, and thinking of the family he would never again see.

"Way enough, toss and boat oars!" the coxswain yelled above the sound of the surf breaking against the shore as one of the crew jumped from the boat, a line of rope held securely in his hand, while two others jumped into the surf and lent a hand in pulling the boat up on shore.

Lily glanced around bemusedly. Her surroundings seemed so familiar, and yet, it was different. Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when strong arms suddenly closed around her and lifted her out of the boat
.
Wading through the surf Valentine carried Lily up onto the beach. She had flung her arms around his neck when he'd swung her off her feet, and now she was so close to his face that she could see the golden lights fanning out from around each pupil before becoming diffused in the turquoise irises.

"I wouldn't want you to get that petticoat of yours wet," he murmured, loud enough for her ears only before setting her down beyond the surf.

Lily straightened her bodice and skirts, then started along the beach toward the headland where, on the far side, lay the cove. She glanced back once, to see him giving orders, then, leaving one man on duty with the boat, he and the rest of his crew began to follow.

Simon hurried to catch up. "Hey, Lily, wait!"

"Insufferable man," Lily muttered, not risking another glance back, for a shadow with long strides was closing the distance behind.

"Lily. Will we go to the graves first?" Simon inquired, his gaze darting while he tried to absorb everything as they quickly passed. Once, he stopped dead in his tracks, thinking he saw a shadow moving swiftly thought the trees. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes and hurried on. "I can't believe it, Lily. I am actually here, on the island. I've dreamt of this for so long," he said again, and indeed, he looked like a child newly arisen from a dream. His head was cocked at a slight angle as he listened to the strange cries of exotic birds drifting from the forest.

Lily smiled, taking his hand in hers. "See that tree?" she said, pointing to the one that stood above all others. "They lie beneath, Simon," she told him.

Simon nodded, his eyes never leaving the tall pine as they
made
their way along the curving beach, a trail of footprints left behind. Midway along the beach, Lily's steps slowed until she finally halted to stare worriedly at the thick underbrush of the forest.

Valentine came to stand beside her, watching her carefully, while his crew, some of whom had visited this isle before, eyed the concealing undergrowth with growing unease.

Lily stared around in dismay. "Everything has changed. I hardly recognize anything. I think there used to be a tall palm there. And that is where the path should be that we followed to our hut and the pool. It looks as if there has never been a path there, or that we had ever been here at all," she said, searching the shadowy darkness of the jungle for the opening, but the thick canopy of leaves let in little light from above and the grasses growing up waist-high were woven together like a living wall. "I feel like a stranger here," Lily said, shivering slightly. This had been her home, but now the enchantment was gone.

"It is as I feared. You've been away from the island for over three years. Not only has the vegetation altered all that you remembered, but the storms that have struck during the years have altered much. Even the shape of the bay has been subtly changed."

"The cave will still be there," Lily said, her step determined as she began to walk toward the headland, "and I can see the pine," she added, staring ahead to where the pine rose above the rest of the forest.

"You said the cave was part of a cliff? Was it this headland?" Valentine questioned.

"No, it was beyond the cove,
amongst
the cliffs that curve out of sight toward the far side of the isle," Lily told him, reaching out to take Simon's hand held out to her as she struggled up the bank and through the underbrush directly in their path.

"I remember crossing this headland. I believe this is where the Turk met you for the first time?" Valentine said unable to forget the sight of the Turk
tumbling
down from the rocks, a feathered figure flying after him.

The Turk said something unintelligible, for it was in his own tongue, but Valentine was in little doubt as to the sentiment it expressed and he grinned in appreciation.

"
Tristram
used to stand guard beneath that pine on the headland. The ship
-
-I didn't see the shipwreck," Lily suddenly realized, glancing back out into the bay.

"The storms have probably carried it back out to sea in a thousand pieces by now," Valentine said, holding a thorny branch safely clear while she and Simon passed. "She always reclaims her own"

Reaching the cove, which had been more sheltered from the sea and the winds than the bay, Lily could see that at least here little had changed. The beach stretched before them, untouched except for the sea lapping gently against the sands.

Simon, finding the tall pine, quickened his steps until he was almost running across the beach toward it.

"Simon! Wait!" Valentine called to late, afraid that the storms blowing in from the sea and the passage of time would have wreaked destruction beneath the pine. He did not want Simon to see Basil's grave desecrated.

He reached out in time to catch Lily's arm as she would have hurried after Simon.

"Please, let me go," she said, staring up into his harsh face in puzzlement while trying to free her arm from his grasp.

"Lily, you haven't been here to care for the graves. I don't want you to see something that may not be pleasant," Valentine explained, the old gentleness softening his eyes.

Lily remained standing where she was for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you," she said simply, then gestured toward the tree. "But I will eventually have to face whatever has happened."

Valentine smiled. "I should have remembered," he said, and when Lily frowned, he added, "that you are Geoffrey Christian's daughter. He would have been proud of you, Lily."

Lily looked up at Valentine Whitelaw in surprise, her green eyes glowing with pleasure at the unexpected comment.

"Thank you, Valentine," she repeated, but this time his name came like a caress from her lips.

Gently, he placed his hand beneath her elbow and began to walk with her toward the tall pine where they could see Simon's lone figure standing so still.

Lily gave a cry of relief when she saw the two pristine crosses. Miraculously, they had survived. Slender green grasses, waving in the warm sea breeze, and luxuriant plants, heavy with exotic blooms that scented the air with a heady sweetness, had grown up around the graves, almost hiding the crosses if one were not looking for them.

Simon stood with his head bowed, his face hidden from any prying eyes and Lily knew he was silently weeping. She moved closer, placing her arm around his waist comfortingly. He moved his arm embrace her, holding her close against his side while both of them stood staring down at the two graves bearing the names of a beloved parent.