"So you would have me leave my heritage and seek-what?" "A new life somewhere else. You have gold in England-let me go and claim it!" "England," he murmured.
"You would take me to England...." "No, for there you are a wanted man. Let me go there for you. Let me--"
She had reached out and grasped his arm as she spoke, and now he brushed her fingers off and stood up. His face was cold but no colder than his voice.
"So all this week you have been planning this, you lying wench! You would snatch me from my heritage and tum me over to the buccaneers! What devil is in you that would make you lie in a man's arms and then try to destroy him?"
"I would never destroy you!" she cried.
"Would you not?" He seemed to tower over her, glowering. "Yet you would deliver me to my enemies on a platter!"
"The buccaneers are not your enemies! They are your friends. Hawks--" "Bah!" he said. "It is all of a piece with your devious ways. You sought to charm me, to cajole me, to bend
me to your desires." He was angry because she had so nearly done it. Listening to her, he could almost trust what the lying wench said!
"Kells, believe me, I would not lie to you! I am trying to save your life!"
"I was wrong about you," he said. "I would have given up other women for you-but you are a buccaneer's wench after all!"
Of a sudden he picked her up, and before she guessed his intention he marched down the corridor with her, kicked open the door to her bedroom and tossed her upon the bed.
"Stay out of my way," he said thickly.
He turned and slammed the door behind him.
In fury and exasperation, Carolina began to cry. Through her angry sobs she could hear his own door slam in the distance.
Their short honeymoon had come to an end.
The next day he did not appear for breakfast and later in the morning she saw him driving out with the governor's daughter. But the worst was reserved for later: After he had returned from that jaunt, she saw Dona Jimena's carriage stop before the house. Dona Jimena was not in it, but Carolina had seen the Menendez carriage and its matched team of dancing black horses often enough to recognize it. Kells must have been waiting for it because he promptly went out and got into it and was driven away.
Watching him from the window of his bedroom where she had gone to mope, Carolina felt her eyes sting.
That he was squiring the governor's plump assertive daughter meant little to her, for she knew that Marina meant nothing to him. But that he had gone back to the arms of beautiful lecherous Dona Jimena, ah, that was something else!
Carolina walked about, growing more and more upset. She would confront him at dinner! She would have it out with him! But he did not come home for dinner. Indeed he did not come home that night at all.
The next day he passed her in the hall with an impassive nod-no greeting. When she would have spoken to him he brushed by her and closed the door.
She couldn't know what it cost him to do that, for the lure of her white arms was almost overpowering. He had lain with Dona Jimena and she had been her usual intriguing self. But she was not Carolina, and his soul and his body both ached for his lustrous wench. He had spent the night in a tavern drinking-but even that had not helped. Madre de Dios, the wench was in his blood. She had bewitched him!
But he would not let her know it. Indeed he would fight this mad infatuation that seemed to have dulled his wits and weakened his resolve! He would spend more time with Dona Jimena, whose interest in sex was as keen as his and who had perfected her own style of lovemaking-a style calculated never to get her pregnant.
And if Dona Jimena's eager lips lacked for him the warmth of Carolina's sweet body-for Carolina seemed entirely careless of the chances she took of bearing a child out of wedlock-well, then he would find other hot wenches, the world was full of them!
So he reasoned-and so he suffered.
But Carolina did not know that. She was livingin her own private hell, a world of fear for him-and fury with him.
"Men!" she told Penny bitterly.
"Yes. Devils, aren't they?" laughed Penny. "Do you know, I think I almost have the governor lured to my bed? I can't imagine why he's so shy!"
"He's probably afraid of you," sighed Carolina. "You look as if you might eat men alive!"
"Oh, come now! What's so upsetting? I thought you two lovebirds were getting along famously!"
"Not anymore," muttered Carolina.
"Oh, so he's back to his old tricks? Well, men are like that," Penny said philosophically. "There's an answer to that and it's always the same--get a new man!"
Carolina stared at her sister. Perhaps that was the answer! Don Ramon del Mundo had called every day and she had always stold Luzto say she was out. There was no mistaking the hot light in the lean Spaniard's eyes-she could have a new man any day she wanted. Don Ramon was hers for the taking!
"It isn't the end of the world, you know," chided Penny, "whether Don Diego is faithful to you or not."
"Isn't it?" Carolina asked in a hollow voice.
"Well, I must say this thing has certainly sprung up fast. It seems only yesterday that you were mourning for Kells, and now you fly into bits because Don Diego sees Dona Jimena!"
"Perhaps I should stop mourning," muttered Carolina. "Perhaps I should find my own way in the worldl" "My sentiments exactly," was Penny's cool rejoinder.
But Carolina could not quite bring herself to do it. Deep in her heart she was still faithful to her buccaneer.
"I do not know how you can hate me-I have but told you the truth about yourself!"
She confronted him squarely the next day, as he was coming through the door, fresh from a rendezvous with Dona Jimena.
He paused and scanned her-and the way he did it brought a flush to her cheeks. "I do not hate you," he said flatly, and it was the truth. Not only did he not hate her, he desired her with a heat that was hard to control.
Her femininity burned like a brand in the back of his consciousness and he carried in his mind a picture of her wherever he went. He would have died rather than let her know it.
"Then why do you avoid me?"
He took a deep breath. He avoided her because he felt that like a storm, she could sweep him from his moorings, dash him to disaster. She was beguiling, this lovely wench, and there was a terrible sincerity in her silver-gray eyes that he found daunting. Looking into those eyes, it was hard not to believe her-and that would be terrible, for all that he knew of himself, this self that he had become acquainted with so recently, was that he had spent his life fighting for God and Spain.
To betray either-with this beautiful heretic would make him a traitor, without honor, cursed in his own country.
"I avoid you," he said coldly, "because your lies would drag me down. I am a Spanish patriot-" "A patriot, yes--but an English patriot," she corrected him angrily. "You were always that!" "But Kells is known to be an Irish buccaneer," he told her, and there was a note of triumph in his voice.
"Kells pretended to be Irish in order not to shame his family in England," she retorted hotly. "Kells is in truth Rye Evistock, the eldest surviving son of a viscount-Lord Gayle."
He accepted this information without comment. "I have no doubt you know your man," he said, shrugging."ButI am not Kells. You must give up this bizarre fantasy that I am a buccaneer, somehow spirited to Havana!"
"I will not!" she cried, and her voice was now low and desperate. "I will not give it up because you are in great danger. Every moment that you remain in this city your life is in jeopardy!"
His contemptuous laughter echoed through the hallway. "I cannot believe that your mind is unhinged, so it must be that you seek to hoodwink me. I will have you know, mistress, that it cannot be done-at least not in this manner. Before God, I have served no master but the King of Spain-nor ever will!" His voice rang with a sincerity that infuriated Carolina.
She leaned forward with her slender hands on her hips and it was no unfortunate captive who was speaking now but the arrogant Silver Wench whom all Tortuga had held in high esteem.
"You have sunk their galleons and raided their towns," she said between her teeth.
"You married me aboard the Sea Wolf in a buccaneer wedding while all Tortuga cheered! You have fought for me in many lands and against all odds. Would you deny me now?"
He could not but admire her spirit. After all, he told himself, she had found herself cast away among enemies-who could blame her for trying to better her position?
"If you were a man and told me I was Kells," he said slowly, "I would ask you to defend yourself and carve the lie upon your body. But you are a woman and defenseless here. My fingers itch to tame you with the lash but I will not because I recognize in you a fighting heart. Cease these lying accusations and we can become friends again."
She looked at him hopelessly. How could he be so stubborn? "You are a fool," she said bitterly. "And you are bent on losing your life."
"At least I will lose it in a way of my own choosing and not in the way you have devised for me," was his cool response.
"Kells," she pleaded desperately, "what can I do to make you believe me?"
His tone was without expression. "If you call me Kells again, I will pull up those skirts and thrash your lovely white bottom until it is as pink as your cheeks!"
Her eyes flashed silver. "Oh, you would not!" she cried in exasperation.
"I would."
"Well, I shall call you Kells whenever I like! And I shall certainly call you Kells whenever we are alone!" She had driven him too far. She realized it the moment the words had left her mouth.
Before she could move-and she was already in the act of drawing back, dismayed by the expression on his face-he pounced upon her like a big cat and swept her up against him. Ignoring the futile flailing of her beating fists against his chest, deaf to her furious screech as she kicked his shins-managing to hurt her toes in their soft slippers against the stout hardened leather of his jackboots-he carried her up the tiled stairway, bounding three steps at a time with his angry squirming burden.
Juana and Luz, alerted by the commotion, had come running out from the kitchen to see what was the matter. With pure delight on their rapt faces they watched Don Diego mount the stairs with a raging Carolina pinioned firmly against his hard body.
"What do you think he will do with her?" wondered Luz, impressed by Carolina's wails.
Old Juana laughed. "He thinks to beat her," she told Luz. "But he will reconsider."
And when Luz looked doubtful, Juana poked her jovially with her elbow. "He is in love with her, Luz. Why else would he-who always came home looking so relaxed and satisfied when he had been visiting Dona Jimena-now come home from the same lady looking tormented?"
"Perhaps he fears Dona Jimena's husband will find out?" suggested Luz.
Juana laughed again. "I think Don Diego fears neither gods nor devils," she said.
"And especially I do not think he fears husbands-Dona Jimena's or any other's." An angry scream from upstairs penetrated down to their domain. "Come back to the kitchen, Luz. They will return smiling, and we will not want to be thought spying on them."
That angry scream from upstairs had come when Kells strode into the big front bedroom, sat himself down upon the bed and turned Carolina across his knee.
This devil is going to do it-he is actually going to spank me! Carolina had thought in blind rage as she felt her voile overskirt, her yellow petticoat and her cambric chemise all jerked upward in a single determined gesture that bared her white bottom to Don Diego's view.
The next moment she felt a large hand descend with a smack upon that bottom and she gave a cry of rage and did her utmost to squirm about and bite him.
She was rewarded with a rough cuff that put her back in position, to the sound of ripping of voile, and the large hand descended smartingly upon the reddening flesh of her soft bottom again.
"I am trying to make my point," he said evenly. "Which is that I am in command here.
You will not go against my direct orders and I order you not to call me Kells!"
A sob of anger caught in her throat as she found herself suddenly righted and standing upon her feet before him. Her hair was a bright tousled halo tumbling wildly about her, and the expression of indignation on her lovely face was almost more than he could stand, but he kept his own countenance impassive as she trembled before him.
"You are not Kells!" She bit the words at him. "You may once have been, but to me you are no longer-you are not fit to lick his boots!" And in blind rage she drew back a white forearm and struck at his expressionless but determined countenance.
"Ah, now that's better," he said smoothly, and- overwhelmed by his desire for her-drew her abruptly into his arms.
For a moment Carolina swayed dizzily beneath the hot pressure of his lips. Then with a wrench that ripped the thin voile of her gown (indeed she could feel her sleeves part company from her bodice!), she pulled away from him-only a small space, for his arms were still around her. She looked up at him with blazing eyes and he could feel himself kindle to flame before her trembling fury.
"I do not desire you!" she gasped angrily. "Don Diego!" she added scornfully through clenched teeth.
"Do you not?" His dark brows shot up mockingly and he drew her back to him with perfect aplomb. "Your body tells me otherwise, wench of the Devil!" he told her and bent his head to revel in the sweetness of her flesh, to torment the soft lobe of her ear with his lips, to trail along the white column of her throat with the tip of his tongue.
Now was the moment to resist him-now, while he held her fast. But even as the thought crossed her mind she could feel her senses reeling, for her desire for him was as keen as his for her. Even though she had meant to remain rigid, to keep her knees locked together, she could feel her body relax against his with a sigh of perfect content, feel herself borne to the bed, feel herself falling-no, dissolving-backward upon it with his long body atop her own.