Pirate's Golden Promise (23 page)

She smiled to herself and crept along the side of the prison, then around to the back. Two windows were at the rear, and she had to stand on tiptoe to see inside. The first room was empty, but the second one wasn't.

A small candle had been lit, and she saw Cort pacing the room like a caged tiger.

Her hands grabbed hold of the bars, as if she could pull them down and free him.

“Cort!” she whispered.

He turned, stunned disbelief in his tawny eyes.

“Wynter, what are you doing here?” he said and came to the window. His hands clasped around the bars, holding hers beneath his. “I told that fool Dirk to keep you on Santa Margarita.”

“Don't blame Dirk. It was my doing to come here. I had to see you, Cort. We're going to help you escape.”

“Who's we?” he asked suspiciously.

“Dirk, Jan, the crew … and me.”

“No. Not you.”

“Yes, I am. I must help you. I love you, Cort. I'll love you until I die, and I'll do anything to free you.”

“Even sleep with Morgan, because that's his term for my release … if he frees me at all. I won't allow you to do this, Wynter. I can't allow it.”

“You have little say about anything I do right now, Cort. Anyway, I only want Morgan to think I'll go to him willingly, and my plan is working. He's sure I don't love you any longer, quite smug that I'll fall into his bed when you're dead. But he's mistaken. On the night of the ball, Dirk and the others will aid in your escape. I'll meet you on board ship before Morgan knows I've disappeared from the ball. Please don't be angry with me. I love you so!”

How beautiful and brave she was! His hands squeezed around hers, then his lips kissed each one in turn. He looked at her, the light of desire and love within his eyes for her. “Wynter, I love you, love you with all my heart.”

Had she heard him correctly? Cort Van Linden was admitting he loved her!

Tears welled in her eyes and caught in her throat. “I never thought to hear you say that.”

“I've been a fool to wait so long, a crazy fool. From the first moment I saw you at your birthday ball, I've loved you. Can you forgive me for taking so long to admit it to you, for being such a hard-headed dolt?”

“My love, my heart,” she whispered and touched his fingers with her lips.

Cort heard a disturbance in the next room. “You must go, Wynter. Someone's coming. Remember I love you, darling. Always remember.” Then he dropped his hands from hers, and she took one final look before sneaking around to the side of the building again.

This time one guard was there, still napping, while the other one was inside. Quickly she ran back to the refuge of the hedges, then to the house. Morgan was still sitting in the parlor, but his head was drooping to the side and she heard his low snores.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she went to her room where Mary paced nervously. After Wynter had undressed and was in bed, she realized that she hadn't told Cort about the baby.

Until the night of the ball, Wynter spent each day in Morgan's presence. She could well understand how many women had fallen in love with him, because he was charming—when he wished to be, she supposed—and quite well mannered, plus the fact that he was handsome in a renegade sort of way. But she knew he was also ruthless and let nothing stand in his way, so she took extra care not to mention Cort except when he broached the subject, which was only to comment on the progress of the hanging.

Wynter shut her ears to such details, but took care to seem to be listening intently. Henry, she discovered, loved to talk and expected a receptive audience. Otherwise he sulked.

“Does my mentioning Van Linden's execution bother you, my dear?” he asked one afternoon as they rode the length of the beach on the governor's finest steeds.

“I'd much prefer you didn't, Henry, for I find it quite ungentlemanly of you to harp on such things. I was Cort's mistress, after all, and though he does deserve to die, I'd rather not know anything other than the appointed time and date of the execution.”

Henry considered her for a moment. “Do you wish him dead because of the crimes he committed against your country or against you, Wynter?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not as long as you want his life finished.”

He sounded so cold, so cruel, quite unlike the man who had laughingly raced her along the beach minutes earlier and allowed her to win. She trembled a tiny bit, and his eagle eyes noticed.

“You shiver quite often when we're together. Do you find my company offensive?”

“Henry, what an odd observation to make. I do no such thing.”

“As you say, madam. Now let's ride back to Kingshouse. Supper will be served soon.”

He turned his mount around and they cantered back to the governor's residence. During the ride back, Henry was once again his affable self, but Wynter wished the night of the ball was that night instead of the next. She didn't trust Morgan and wasn't entirely certain that he believed that she wanted to see Cort dead. But he appeared to have taken her at her word, and for the rest of the evening was the perfect dinner companion.

Kingshouse blazed with lights the next evening and beckoned to the gentry for miles around. Boats carrying men and women dressed in their most elegant and expensive clothes, anchored in the harbor. The governor, solicitous of his guests' comfort, had arranged carriages to carry them the short distance from the beach to the house. By the time the clock struck seven, almost all the guests were clustered in the downstairs rooms, drinking French champagne and listening to the sound of harp music.

Wynter was in her room, already dressed in the blue silk gown Cort had purchased for her on Saint Martin. Tiny diamonds, encrusted on the low bodice and full sleeves, twinkled in the candlelight. Mary had arranged Wynter's hair in a simple upsweep with one long fat curl dangling over her right shoulder. Had this been any other night of a grand affair, Wynter would have spent a great deal of time before the mirror, making sure each hair was in place. This night, however, she didn't care how she looked. Her nerves were strung tighter than the strings on the harp downstairs.

“I wish that infernal music would cease!” she told Mary and whipped away from the window where she'd been watching people alight from the carriages.

“You're just worked up. Calm down. Everything will be fine. Dirk and Jan will get Captain Cort out of the prison. Before the night is out, you'll be with him on the
Sea Bride.”

Wynter wrung her hands, “I hope nothing goes astray in the plan, Mary. You know what to do. Shortly before eleven you're to leave the house and go to the ship.”

“Yes, but I hate leaving you here.”

Wynter smiled softly. “I'll be all right. I worry about Cort.”

“Dirk and Jan will free him from the prison as soon as everyone's attention is drawn to the fire at the king's warehouse. Some of Captain Cort's men are already lying in wait there to set the fire, while the rest of the crew waits on the ship. When Henry Morgan and the governor and the rest of the men go to investigate, you'll slip away from the party. By that time Captain Cort will already be aboard.”

Mary made the plan sound so simple. But was it? For nights Wynter had mulled over what might go wrong, but had to convince herself that nothing would. Cort would be freed, and they'd sail away from Port Royal to seek the safety of Santa Margarita. She decided that she was worrying over nothing. By the time Morgan tapped on the door for her, she felt calmer.

“Diamonds suit you,” he told her after they'd danced a bit. The weather had grown warm, and now they stood outside on the veranda, the swish of satins and silks audible just inside the doorway. “In fact, they suit you so well that I've brought you this.”

Morgan took a huge diamond pendant, dangling from a diamond chain, out of his gold satin pocket. He spun her around before she had time to protest and clasped it around the creamy flesh of her neck.

“I believe this bit of cold fire has found a warm home,” he told her and ogled the spot between her breasts where the diamond rested.

Wynter couldn't suppress the surprise she felt. “Henry, I can't accept anything as expensive as this. Please, you must take it back.”

“Why?”

She was going to say it wasn't proper but thought better of it. He watched her in suspicion, though he smiled. She said, “Now isn't the proper time. What will Lady Modyford say, and the other women in the room? They watch my every movement, and I'm sure one of them will be certain to tell your wife.”

“The old hags watch you because you're the most beautiful woman in Port Royal, Jamaica, or the whole damn world! I don't care what anyone tells Elizabeth, and I don't want to hear another word out of you, my love. You see, before the week is done and Van Linden is dead, you'll truly belong to me.” Ensnaring her in his arms, he kissed her firmly and possessively. “Isn't that right?” he asked.

“Yes, Henry,” she admitted weakly and prayed the night would end soon. It was barely ten o'clock. One more hour to wait, and she didn't know if she could stand another minute of Henry's pawing or the lustful gleam in his eyes for her. But she thought of Cort, of their love and the child she carried and she'd endure anything.

The time did pass, and when the clock in the large foyer chimed the eleventh hour, Wynter stiffened during the dance she shared with Morgan. Her palms perspired, and she grew dizzy from nervousness and anticipation. Soon, very soon, she'd be with Cort. She must keep her wits about her.

Precisely when the clock ceased its chimes, she heard the explosion. Cort's men had started the fire, and when the flames swept the king's warehouse, which was also used as a munitions storehouse, the noise was deafening. Cries of terror filled the ballroom, and, as Wynter expected, Modyford and the men ran outside.

From the further cries in the distance, she knew the island was in turmoil. But Wynter had no time to think about what damage had been done to the king's property or about the lives that might have been lost. As soon as Morgan left the house with the governor and the others, Wynter silently made her way from the circle of hysterical women and ran down the hallway to the back of the house. As she had done a few nights earlier, she went out the back entrance and into the darkened yard.

She knew she had to leave immediately and head for the ship. Mary would already be aboard by now. Wynter's gaze flew to the wooden building where Cort was held, and she couldn't restrain herself. She had to know whether he had escaped!

Racing behind the row of hedges, she found herself by the darkened prison. No guards were outside. She didn't bother to wonder how Dirk and Jan had disposed of them, or if the guards, drawn by the explosion, had gone to the warehouse. All she knew was that the plan must have worked! Now to make her way to the ship.

“Vrouw!”

She turned at Dirk's voice.

“Where are you?” she whispered, unable to see him in the darkness.

She passed near a huge tree and Dirk grabbed her, pulling her beside him. There were no moon or stars that night, and she found it hard to see Dirk, but in the inky blackness, she heard him clearly.

“Captain Van Linden is gone!”

“He's on the ship already? Then we must go,” she said, moving away.

“No, vrouw. The captain wasn't in the jail. Jan and I can't find him.”

“That can't be, Dirk. He must be somewhere about. Did you search both rooms in the prison?”

“Ja, vrouw. He was gone. No guards were here when Jan and I arrived. I sent Jan back to the ship. You must come with me to the
Sea Bride
. We can't wait any longer.”

He took her arm, but Wynter pushed away. “No! I won't go anywhere without Cort. I'll find him. I swear it!”

Spinning away from Dirk, she ran back to the house. God, where is he? she asked over and over. She had to find him, she must find him. Why had he been moved?

Tears of despair and fear blinded her as she entered the house and bumped into the golden doublet of Henry Morgan.

“Henry!”

“Where have you been, my dear, or need I ask?”

His voice was strangely calm. He took her arm and led her into the hallway and past the women and men milling about the ballroom. Then they headed up the stairway and entered Morgan's room. He motioned for her to sit on a green-and-blue brocade-covered chair. Wynter sat numbly down, knowing that he'd known all along where she'd gone.

He lit a candle, and the glow emphasized the almost diabolical glint of his blue eyes. He looked coldly at her, but he smiled in amusement.

“It was a rather amateurish plan, my dear. I had expected better from Van Linden's men, something more original. But the explosion, I admit, was unexpected. What I do applaud is your acting ability. You were really quite good, Wynter, but your desire for Van Lynden was your undoing.”

“When did you realize the truth?” she asked.

“The night you sneaked out of the house to see him at the prison.”

“But the guards were asleep, you were in the parlor, snoring when I returned. No one saw me leave!”

“You underestimate
my
acting ability, sweet. You were so vocal in your hatred of Van Linden that I became suspicious. If you remember, that night on the beach before you swooned from my kiss, I pointed out the prison to you. On purpose, I might add. I was testing you, Wynter. I knew that if you loved the man, you'd be unable to resist sneaking over there to speak to him. So, I warned the guards to feign sleep if they heard your approach, and, my dear, you were quite noisy. I even followed you and heard your words of love. Then I sneaked back to the house, and when you arrived from your midnight tryst, I pretended to have fallen asleep in the parlor.”

Anger and humiliation washed over her and colored her face red. How stupid and careless she'd been! She'd ruined Cort's escape.