Pirate's Golden Promise (19 page)

Wynter felt hot and cold all over. “What can this be?” she asked. “How did Cort get such a thing?”

She looked to Henrik. “You're certain these papers came out of Captain Van Linden's desk drawer?”

“Ja.”

She held up the paper of indenture. “This one, too?”

“Ja. And that one.” He pointed to the other roll of parchment which had been tied to the one she held in her hand.

Trembling, she unrolled the mate, and a huge sob wracked her. The document's wording was the same, but below the signature of the
Mary Jack's
captain was that of Wynter Larkin.

“He knew this all the time,” she said to Henrik and Cabi without seeing them, for her eyes had filled with tears.

“Vrouw Van Linden, what is wrong?” Henrik asked in concern.

“Vrouw Van Linden,” she repeated as if in a stupor. “I'm not Vrouw Van Linden, but Wynter Larkin. Dear God!” she screamed after a few moments and frightened the two boys. “How could he have deceived me like this?”

She ran from the hut as the rest of the children began piling in. She didn't notice any of them, didn't stop when she saw Saba. In fact, she didn't really know where she was going until she reached the top of the cliff and was lost among the ripe green banana trees.

The cool darkness of the forest washed over her as did the sweet smell of the fruit. In some part of her mind that was still thinking she knew she should return to the house and confront Cort, but her heart ached so much and the tears flowed so quickly that she didn't believe she could endure any more of his lies. He had taken her identity from her and given her a new one. And because of the shock she'd just had, the rush of memories after seeing Cort at the Fleece that fateful day months ago stung her like a nest of wasps.

All she could think was that Cort had wanted to make her his mistress and had succeeded by only a chance of fate, of destiny. Was that why he never told her he loved her? Wasn't it a known fact that Cort Van Linden never loved any woman and had used them for his own pleasure? And she, Wynter McChesney who had spurned him, had come willingly to his bed without resistance because she believed herself to be his wife.

Wynter buried her face in her hands and sobbed bitter tears. “I'm no better than a common whore,” she cried aloud.

From out of nowhere Cort materialized on his horse. He jumped down and instantly came beside her and took her in his arms. “Wynter, what is it? Saba told me you ran from the beach as if a black gust of wind were behind you. Tell me what happened.”

Her dove-gray eyes were wet with tears, and though there was a sadness there, Cort saw such dismay that he gave an involuntary shiver.

“Wynter, are you ill?” he asked when she didn't immediately say anything but kept looking at him in dark pain.

“Take your hands off me.”

Her voice was steady, almost deadly, and Cort released her.

“Never touch me again! I don't want to even see you again.”

“Tell me—”

“Here!” She shoved both papers at him. “Read for yourself, ‘dear husband.' Explain to me how I can be your wife when I was married to Fletcher.”

He was losing her! He had to keep her as his; he couldn't bear it if she no longer loved him. “You're my wife, Wynter.” In his heart that's how he thought of her.

“I'm not!” she shot back and pushed at him. “My memory has returned, Cort, and I don't recall ever marrying you. In fact, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in the entire world.”

“I don't think you'd be happy to live as a nun, Wynter.”

The force of her slap stunned him. “I'd rather remain untouched the rest of my life than to be with a devil like yourself. I want you to take me to Port Royal.”

Calmly Cort tore the two papers into bits. “So the princess has returned, I see, and very eager to issue orders. Well, my love, you're a free woman, not a bondswoman any longer. I'm not your father, Wynter, who'll indulge his pampered pet. And I'm certainly not your precious Somerset, or your husband. If you wish to go to Port Royal, you'll have to find another ship to take you there.”

How she hated him at that moment! He knew she wouldn't be able to leave Santa Margarita, because no other ships had anchored there since Morgan's. And she was well aware that no other captain would take her because she was Cort Van Linden's mistress. The Van Linden diamond caught her eye, and she attempted to pull it off her finger but gave up. Suddenly her fingers were swollen.

“I'll find a way to free myself of you,” she heard herself saying in a level voice which surprised her.

Cort shrugged and dropped the pieces of paper onto the forest floor. “You may try, my love, but will you ever be free of the feelings I arouse in you? I could take you here and now, and you wouldn't resist me.”

She trembled a bit because that was true. But what had happened to the man she had loved so rapturously only that morning? Or had the Cort she had come to know been only a mirage? The man standing before her was the same arrogant man who'd swept into her life, not once but twice, and kindled a fire in her she never thought she'd feel for any man. What upset her more than anything was his complete composure, as if he had expected this to happen one day and never intended to fight for her love. She decided there and then that Cort had only used her for his own pleasure. That explained why he never told her he loved her. He didn't.

“I admit I enjoyed loving you, and, yes, you could take me here and now, and I'd probably be unable to resist you. I congratulate you on achieving your aim. You wanted me as your mistress, and that is what I am. But though you may have gained my body with this deception, Cort, you've lost my heart.”

When she turned her back on him and walked proudly out of the forest, he knew he had.

For the next three days Wynter slept in the large bed alone, while Cort spent his nights on the See Bride. She hadn't asked him to leave the house, in fact the thought hadn't entered her mind. After she'd left the cliff top that evening and Cort hadn't returned to the house, she decided his absence was the best thing for them.

A part of her ached, would always ache, at his deception, but the more vulnerable side of her, the side that loved him, felt like an open wound.

Though Mary was sympathetic to her, she didn't escape the brunt of Wynter's anger. Hurtful words poured from her, chastising Mary for her part in deceiving her, but after a day's thought on the matter, Wynter realized that Mary and the crew of the
Sea Bride
had followed Cort's wishes and were as much victims of his duplicity as she was herself. To make amends to Mary, Wynter told her she'd give her her freedom.

“You mean it?” Mary asked, scarcely able to believe her good fortune. When Wynter assured her that she did, Mary's face glowed with gratitude and excitement. “Now Jan and I can wed!”

Wynter smiled sadly at Mary as the thought of her own false marriage to Cort gnawed at her. She wished Mary well and told her she'd send a message to Cort by way of Henrik to bring the indenture papers to her.

“Perhaps you should speak to him yourself,” Mary shyly proposed.

“Never!” Wynter finished folding her blue calico gown and then put it with Fletcher's meager possessions which Cort had sent to her from the ship the second day after their explosive argument. Wynter didn't care to ever talk to Cort Van Linden in her life, not even if he crawled on his hands and knees up the long expanse of stairs which wound along the side of the cliff. Wynter knew that Cort wasn't the type of man to beg to any woman, so he stayed aboard the ship, and she made plans to vacate the house, much to Saba's horror.

“Where will you go? Captain Cort won't let you leave.”

“I won't remain in this house a day longer,” Wynter declared to Saba and gathered a warm blanket in her arms, knowing that Cort would never miss it. She then picked up hers and Fletcher's belongings. “I'm not the captain's wife, nor do I wish to be, or pretend to be. If you need me for anything, I'll be on the beach, living in the hut where I teach the children. At least I still have my classes, something Cort can't take from me. Heaven knows he's robbed me of everything else!”

“Captain Cort loves you.”

Saba would say that. She was so intrinsically loyal to Cort that she couldn't see his bad points. Wynter didn't even bother to respond to that comment. As she walked out of the front door, Saba shook her head and said, “Bad, very bad thing to do.”

With a determination to put her life in order, a life without Cort, until she could arrange passage to Port Royal, Wynter left the hilltop house and trudged down the long flight of stairs to the beach. The islanders were used to her presence now and everyone smiled and greeted her pleasantly. A few gave her strange looks that evening when she didn't immediately leave the hut before sunset but stayed on, a forlorn figure sitting on a huge boulder by the shoreline. Her gaze was magnetically drawn to the
Sea Bride
as it bobbed gently in the ocean. Lights had already been lit in Cort's cabin, and when she saw a wavering shadow there, she knew it was Cort's.

She hated the little jump of surprise in the pit of her stomach and the hammering of her heart. God, if his shadow could do this to her, what might happen if she saw him in the flesh? She knew that if Cort as much as touched her, she'd melt into his arms. But even as she fought the feelings of desire that surged through her, she ached for his embrace and his kisses, which could easily drive her out of her mind with desire.

She shook her long mane of hair in an attempt to drive his image from her brain. She was no mindless creature who lived only for a man's caress, she convinced herself. She was Wynter McChesney and possessed the stern mettle of her ancestors. With such blood running through her veins, she could resist anything, stand up to anybody. Even Cort Van Linden. But as she went into the hut and finally lay down on her pallet to claim elusive sleep, she hoped that were true.

The next day, Cabi taught her how to fish. With the warm water up to her waist, she stood in the flowing current with a net in hand. Cabi's English had much improved over the last weeks, and he told her to look into the shimmering, clear ocean for a view of fish as they swam by. Then she must throw in the net and claim her prize. This sounded quite simple to Wynter until she tried it. The fish were there, but she was never fast enough to catch one. And though the gown was plastered to her legs, it still hindered her progress. At mid-morning when she still hadn't caught her breakfast, she gave up and decided that she'd have to eat bananas.

Cabi had caught some fish, and within an hour he had cooked them and presented them to her. Wynter insisted he join her, and both of them sat in front of the hut, eating in companionable silence. Later that day, Cabi's mother, Mora, paid a visit to Wynter and handed her a colored sarong in a beautiful flower pattern like the ones the island women wore.

“This help you when you fish,” Mora told her and smiled.

The sarong was much shorter than her gown and split halfway up the front to allow freedom of movement. When Wynter first tried it on, she felt scandalous and wouldn't come out of the hut. But after getting used to its comfortableness and unbinding her long hair until it flowed down her back in a riot of soft curls, she decided to chance it. After all, no one bothered her on this side of the island. She was virtually alone, except when the children came for their lessons, and she didn't think they'd laugh at her or see her as odd-looking. In fact, except for her fair skin, she now resembled their mothers.

So armed with her net, another present from Cabi, she went outside and stood waist deep in the ocean. The water was so clear she could see bottom, and when two fish swam past, she threw out the net. To her surprise, she netted both of them. She squealed her delight, looking very much like an enchantress with her hair blowing in the breeze and the waves licking at the next-to-nothing sarong. This was how Cort found her.

He watched her from 20 feet away. He'd been watching her since she left the hut but was so entranced by the sight of her that he felt unable to move. He had missed her, missed her more than he thought it was possible to miss any woman.

He'd spent another sleepless night aboard the ship. His thoughts ran constantly to the woman who slept in his house. He was moody, out of sorts, telling himself over and over that no female was worth so much pondering, no matter how beautiful. He knew he was wrong to have deceived her, and now he was paying for his deception. But he thought that once she considered the matter and realized what they had together, she'd send word to him that all was forgiven. When Henrik arrived with a message from Wynter, his hopes rose that she'd forgiven him. Cort was disappointed. All she wanted was Mary's indenture papers.

Well, here he was, gawking at her like a lovesick fool. He could have sent the papers via Henrik, but he had to see her again, though he told himself he only wanted to check on the house. To his surprise, Wynter wasn't at the house. Saba had told him she was living in the hut that served as the school. Mirth overcame Cort's surprise. Instantly he headed down the stairs to the village. This was one thing he had to see … Wynter McChesney living in a straw hut.

Well, now he'd seen her. And the poor helpless waif he had expected was nowhere to be found. Instead he watched a happy, excited, and beautiful goddess. And if he lived to be a hundred he'd never forget her laughter ringing through the air when she netted the fish. Was this really the pampered daughter of Walter McChesney?

Wynter turned and saw him. The gleeful delight rushed from her face, and pain entered her eyes. She felt the rapid beating of her heart and cursed herself for her reaction to Cort. She should hate him, she knew, and she would be cool but polite to him, yet just to look at him caused a melting sensation inside herself.