Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) (12 page)

"Dammit, Lucas, you are a cool one. Someday you are going to have to come to terms with this war and decide which side you are really on."

"I am called an American by accident of birth, Edmund. My father came from a fine old English family as did my mother. Where does that leave me?"

Lucas stood up and walked over to the sideboard. "Come, Edmund, have another drink."

Edmund reached out for the brandy Lucas handed him and drank deeply. "You know Lady Season seemed to prefer you to me the other night, Lucas."

"I think not. Do you find that your heart is engaged now that you have met your intended bride?"

"I can't tell you how I felt when I first saw her. I had no notion she was going to affect me so strongly. Good lord, Season is beautiful enough to have any man she wants, yet she is meant to be my bride. Still, for some reason her past life bothered me, and I made some very foolish blunders the night of the ball. If I do get her back, I'll make it up to her."

"Edmund, I doubt that The Raven will touch the lady. Let's hope that when our uncle is released he will send her back to you unharmed."

"That's what I keep telling myself, Lucas," Edmund said, draining his glass.

"Let's get out of here. What you need is another woman to take your mind off Lady Season. I know just the one to help you forget for a few hours."

"I can't, Lucas. I have to return to headquarters and find out if there has been any more news."

"If you should change your mind later on, you can still take me up on my offer," Lucas said, walking his cousin to the door.

Edmund paused. "Season really was taken with you, Lucas; I could tell. It has always been so with the women I have known; they have always liked me until they met you. Take care that you don't encourage this one in her folly, cousin."

Suddenly Lucas' golden eyes narrowed with anger. "I'm going to think that your concern for the woman's safety has caused you to speak rashly, Edmund. I have never taken that which belongs to you."

"Yes, but this time it's different. I saw the way you looked at Season. Don't let her come between us, cousin. You know I'm the better swordsman."

Suddenly Lucas' good humor returned. "Then take comfort in that fact, cousin."

Edmund left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Lucas walked over to the window and peered down at the street below. He smiled to himself when he saw the two British soldiers standing guard out front. He knew there would be two more stationed at the back of the inn.

Lucas laughed aloud and picked up his drink, knowing his cousin didn't trust him.

9

During the night the sea became rough, and the
Andromeda
swayed and pitched as heavy waves splashed against her sides.

Lady Season Chatsworth tossed and turned restlessly in her sleep. Then she awoke suddenly and sat upright in bed when a huge wave smashed into the hull of the ship. The
Andromeda
seemed to bob up and down in the restless waters like a tiny cork.

Season grabbed hold of the wooden bedpost and screamed out in terror as the ship rolled, but her grip slipped, and she rolled out of bed onto the hard floor.

She was so terrified that she was only half aware of the hands that reached out to her from the darkness and helped her to her feet.

"It's me, ma'am, James. The captain sent me below to tell you there ain't no danger. He thought you might be scared, since you are a female."

Season clung to James's hand as if it were her lifeline. "The storm is bad, isn't it, James. I fear we will sink!" she cried out in a strangled voice.

"No, ma'am, this ain't bad. I've seen much worse. This here storm will blow over by morning," he declared, just as another wave slammed against the Andromeda. The impact sent them both tumbling to the floor, then slammed them against the wall.

It was as dark as pitch, and the ship groaned and creaked as Season groped for James's hand.

"Are you hurt, ma'am?" the boy asked, trying to help her stand.

"No, I'm not hurt,"—her answer came from trembling lips—"but I have very rarely been so frightened."

"It would be best for you to sit on the middle of the bed and hang on," James instructed.

"Stay with me, James!" she cried, tightening her grip on his hand, and as the lad helped her across the cabin, Season hoped they would reach the bed before another wave sent them sprawling onto the deck.

When Season felt the bed beneath her, she grabbed hold of the bedpost and held on for dear life.

"The captain said I was to stay with you, ma'am," James said, reaching out and touching her arm.

"Climb onto the bed with me, James," she said, taking his hand and pulling him toward her. Her body trembled and she couldn't seem to keep her teeth from chattering.

James wished he could assure her that there was nothing to fear. Then, as Season pulled him tightly against her, the boy thought how soft she was and how sweet the fragrance that clung to her skin was.

"You needn't have any fear, ma'am. The captain's at the helm. There ain't no better captain on all the seven seas, than The Raven."

Season drew very little comfort from James's faith of his captain's ability. When another wave broke over the ship, she clasped the boy tightly against her. She feared they would both be at the bottom of the ocean before this horrible night came to an end.

The Raven watched the sea become calm as the first rays of sunlight touched the horizon. "See to the broken riggings, Briggs," he said, handing the ship over to his first mate. "I'm going below to see how our passenger rode out the storm."

When The Raven reached his cabin, he opened the door and his eyes swept the room. The cabin was in disarray; maps had spilled from the shelves, and everything that hadn't been battened down, was scattered about. His eyes moved to the bed, where Lady Chatsworth lay fast asleep with James curled up beside her.

He shook the young boy by the shoulder, and when he awoke, The Raven nodded for him to leave. Jim sleepily rolled to his feet and padded out of the cabin.

The Raven sat down on the edge of the bed, feasting his eyes on Season's beautiful body which was clad only in a thin lace nightgown. The neck of the gown was open, revealing the gentle swell of her creamy white breasts. As if against his will, his eyes slid over her softly rounded hips and followed the line of her long shapely legs to rest on her delicately arched, dainty feet. He felt an ache deep inside him, and he knew she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her lovely hair fanned out about her head like a golden halo. In sleep there was a slight frown on her inviting lips.

The Raven's hand trembled as he reached for the coverlet and pulled it over her body. Reluctantly, he walked away from her. Leaving the cabin and locking the door behind him, he tried to erase Lady Season from his mind. There was work to do—he had to assess the damage the storm had done to the
Andromeda
.

General Henry Clinton became red in the face as he stared at the note which had just been handed him by his aide. The young aide watched his commander with growing concern, as did Edmund Kens worthy.

"What does the note say, sir?" Edmund asked.

Sir Henry Clinton looked up as if he had forgotten there were others in the room besides himself. He sat down heavily and shook his head.

"Damnation, there will be hell to pay for this incompetence," he roared. "I'm sorry, Edmund, but you must realize that none of this was my doing. God only knows what Lady Season's fate will be now!"

"What do you mean, sir?" Edmund asked in an uneven voice. "Has something gone amiss?"

Suddenly the general looked very tired. Silas Dunsberry was executed but two hours before my man arrived with the orders for his release!" Lord Clinton's announcement fell heavily on the room. Several of the officers present began murmuring among themselves.

Edmund stood, stone-faced. He couldn't show the grief he felt for his uncle because no one in this room knew that Silas Dunsberry had been his uncle.

"What will The Raven do when he learns about the death of Silas Dunsberry, Sir Henry?" one of the officers wanted to know.

"I hate to think. For the moment it is best if word of his death doesn't leave the room. I need time to decide what to do next. This must be a closely guarded secret; is that clearly understood?"

Edmund snapped to attention and clicked his heals together. "I request permission to take my leave of you, sir," he stated, solemn-faced.

"Permission granted, Edmund. Go home. I'll send word to you if something should come up."

Edmund didn't go to his lodgings, but instead found himself before the door of Lucas' suite. Not bothering to knock, he threw the door open and entered the sitting room. Looking about the room, he saw no sign of Lucas so he called his name loudly.

Lucas came out of the bedroom and immediately noticed the stricken look on Edmund's face. "Something has happened to Uncle Silas, hasn't it?" Lucas asked in a sharp voice.

"Yes, I was only just informed that he was executed! Dammit someone will pay for this, Lucas. I had to stand before Sir Henry acting as if I were hearing of a stranger's death. We have both known for a long time that Uncle Silas was a Whig. We have both begged him to have a care or he would be caught. Even though it was my duty to turn him over to the Crown, I looked the other way. My God, he was my uncle! How could I betray him?"

Edmund was ranting and raving so fiercely that he didn't notice Lucas' golden eyes were stone cold; He didn't see his cousin's hands tighten into fists.

"By whose authority was our uncle executed?" Lucas asked in a quiet voice.

"Who can say?" Edmund replied, dropping into a chair and staring into the fireplace. "It was none of General Clinton's doing. He was as shocked as I to learn about the deed. The general thinks we should keep Uncle Silas' death a secret until he can decide what to do. He wants to keep the knowledge of his death from The Raven if at all possible."

Lucas shook his head. "That may not be possible. As you know The Raven has eyes and ears everywhere. I fear for your lady," Lucas said through clenched teeth. "The Raven is a black-hearted bastard or he would never have taken Lady Season in the first place."

Edmund studied his cousin's face. "I see no grief in you for Uncle Silas' death. Are you so damned cold-hearted that you can't feel sorrow over the death of someone who is of your own flesh and blood?"

Lucas smiled. "Perhaps I wasn't as close to Uncle Silas as you were. If I were you, I would forget about the dead and concentrate on the living. As I said before, I fear for your lady!"

Under full sail the Andromeda caught the evening tide and made for an unknown destination. The dark master of the ship stood at the helm, staring into the wind. His heart was filled with grief and hatred. A voice deep inside him cried out for revenge. The man who was responsible for his uncle's death would pay, and pay dearly. Lucas already suspected he knew who had ordered Silas' death, and he swore that the deed would cost that man his life!

"I'm sorry, about your uncle," Briggs said, as he watched The Raven turn the Andromeda windward. There was a loud snap of canvas as the evening breeze caught at the white sails, puffing them out like a huge fluffy cloud.

"Did you see that my message was delivered to General Clinton, Briggs?"

"Yes sir, Captain, but I don't see why you don't let the young lady go free. She had no part in your Uncle Silas' death."

"If I want your advice, I'll ask for it. You are first mate on this ship, not my conscience, Briggs," came the sharp reprimand.

"What are you aiming to do with Lady Season, sir?" Briggs pressed, not in the least intimidated by The Raven's harsh words.

"I have not yet decided the lady's fate. When I do, you will be among the first to know," The Raven said angrily.

"Begging your pardon, Captain, but she is such a sweet little thing, and I wouldn't like to see her come to harm. I have known you for many years, and I've never seen you take out your anger on a lady. I know how you are grieving for your uncle, but she is innocent in all this."

"Do you take me for a fool? As you said, I have never yet harmed a lady, but don't be too sure this one is innocent." The Raven's voice was harsh and dry.

"I never did think you a fool, sir, but I have never seen you like this before either."

"Do not be deceived by the lady's innocent looks, Briggs. I happen to know behind that angelic face is a black-hearted wench. There is no accurate record of the men's lives she has ruined with her . . . soft manners."

Briggs knew his captain well enough to realize there was no point in continuing the conversation, so he changed the subject. "Where do we head, sir?" he asked.

"I'll let you know later. Take the helm and hold a steady course. I'm going below to talk to our passenger."

Briggs took the wheel and watched as his captain slipped the soft leather hood over his head.

"Keep the wind at our back, Briggs. Steer in a northerly direction. We will not stray too far from the New Jersey shore," The Raven said before leaving the quarterdeck.

Briggs hoped his captain's temper would cool before he faced the lady. He had never before seen The Raven in such a rage. Briggs knew that a fire was smoldering inside his captain, and he feared that the little lady might be the outlet for that anger.

Season and James were sitting in the middle of the bed, playing a game of cards, when the captain entered the cabin. Although Season couldn't see The Raven's face, she could sense in him a strong feeling of anger.

"How many times have I told you that this door must be kept locked at all times, Jim?" The Raven demanded to know in a low voice that was laced with anger.

James scrambled off the bed. "I forgot, Captain. It won't happen again," the boy replied, shamefaced.

"Leave us," came the raspy command.

James gave Season a look of pity before he turned and hurriedly left the cabin, shutting the door behind him.

Tense moments passed as Season stared at the black mask. She could feel The Raven's eyes burning into her, and she couldn't guess why he was acting so strangely. Up to now, he had left her alone and she had slowly begun to feel less frightened of the man. Now, she had a strong sense of danger and wondered what was amiss.

Season's hands were unsteady as she began to gather up the cards. Indeed, she trembled so badly that the cards slipped from her fingers and scattered across the floor.

Searching for something to say to the silent, menacing man, she voiced the first thing that popped into her head. "I would like a bath," she stated in a trembling voice, knowing she was desperately trying to distract him. "It has always been my habit to bathe daily."

"What are your other habits?" the raspy voice whispered.

"I… do not know . . . what you mean," she replied. Season had the strong feeling that she was in mortal danger, but she didn't know the reason why.

She watched, almost fascinated, as The Raven bent down, picked up the scattered cards, and laid them on his desk. The silence between them was so thick that

Season licked her dry lips nervously. She watched, her heart pounding, as he bent to blow out the candle, leaving the cabin in total darkness!

"I could scream," she said, moving off the bed, only to come up against the barrier of a human wall.

"Scream then, my lady. Who will hear you?" he whispered close to her ear.

Season felt his hand on her shoulder, and she began to struggle. When he picked her up in his arms, she became paralyzed with fear! She was shocked when he placed her on the bed. She tried to scream but couldn't find her voice, and she shuddered when he covered her body with his, pressing her into the soft mattress.