Boyett-Compo, Charlotte - Wyndmaster 1 (13 page)

"Celeste?" Sierran managed to whisper.

"I'm here, dearling," she said and took his hand.

"Don't leave me."

"Never," she said, leaning over him to look him in the eye. She smoothed the hair back from his

forehead.

He smiled and gave in to the darkness that was flowing toward him.

* * *

It was midmorning when got her first glimpse of Sierran's home and she was staggered at its size. It was

half again as large as her father's estate.

"The commander patterned the keep after one he saw in Plinth when he was stationed there," Vargas

told her as they rolled over the drawbridge and under a massive portcullis.

Celeste marveled at the beauty of the keep. Built from a pale colored stone it fairly glistened in the

sunshine and the conical roofs had been cast in copper that reflected the sun’s rays.

"He named it
Vistadel Mar
," Mac chimed in. "It is his pride and joy."

"It is stunning," she whispered as the wagon rolled into the outer bailey and past a second upraised

portcullis into the inner bailey.

The people who were about the inner bailey crowded around the wagon as it came to a stop before a

wide set of stone steps. They were eager to know the condition of the commander for never had he

come home to them in the back of a wagon.

"One of his megrims," Vargas announced. "Nothing to worry about."

Though curious eyes flicked to Celeste, no one asked who she was and they politely curtsied or bowed

to her, gave her pleasant smiles as she was helped from the wagon by Seth. Because Sierran was

sleeping soundly, Vargas climbed out of the wagon and stood waiting for Mac to lift Sierran and bring

him to the end of the wagon, leaning over to lay him gently in Vargas' brawny arms. With Celeste just

behind him, he carried his commander up the steps and into the magnificent expanse of
Vista Del Mar
.

Ogling her surroundings like a peasant girl come to town for the first time, Celeste followed Vargas up a

winding wrought iron staircase to the second then third floor of the estate. She marveled at the beauteous

tapestries and paintings they passed and life-like statues of the gods and Goddess of the Argonnese

Pantheon.

"The commander is a religious man even though his family be little more than heathens to my way of

thinking," Vargas explained. "Only time they invoke the gods is when they want something they ought not

to have."

Vargas carried Sierran to a spacious room where the draperies had already been drawn by two maids

who also had folded back the covers on his bed and were waiting to help if needed.

"I can see to him, girls," Vargas said as he laid Sierran down on the high mattress.

The maids curtsied gracefully, gave Celeste timid smiles, and then quietly left.

"They are wondering who I am," Celeste said as she came up to the bed.

"But they are too well trained to ask," Vargas said. "The commander is a private man and he values a

strictly-kept tongue in his servants."

Between them, they soon had Sierran down to just his pants.

"He, ah, always sleeps without clothing," Vargas said, heat staining his high cheekbones. He shrugged.

"That's just his way."

"And he'd be more comfortable like that," Celeste agreed. She turned away so Vargas could relieve her

husband of his pants. That done, Vargas showed her to a room situated next door where he told her she

could rest but she went directly to the wide sweep of windows that overlooked the ocean to admire the

view.

"It's something ain't it?" Vargas asked.

"Lovely cannot begin to describe it," she said softly. She pointed to a ship tacking eastward. "Is that his

brother's boat, do you think?"

"Most likely," Vargas said. "But it ain't going the right way."

Celeste looked up at him and saw his jaw was clenched. "They are circling around?"

"Aye, indeed they are," he snapped. "Excuse me, Milady. I've something to see to."

She turned to watch him stalking off and spoke to him before he exited the room.

"Make sure he doesn't come back on this island, Vargas," she said.

"He won't," Vargas said from between clenched teeth.

Wondering if there were other rooms on the third floor which would afford her a view of the other side

of the island so she could keep watch on her husband's brother she went out into the corridor. Another

stairway led up and she climbed it, coming to a large circular room with tall windows completely

circumnavigating the room. The ceiling was conical in shape and done entirely in glass. It was a

magnificent solarium and plants grew lushly in that spectacular expanse with its breathtaking view of the

ocean. Here and there was chaise lounges, chairs, settees and a large copper tub filled with water.

Though she wanted to explore this unique space and take a good look at some of the plants she'd never

seen before, she was more concerned with what Vaughn Morgan was up to and went to the windows,

keeping an eye on his sleek little sloop as it made its way eastward.

She was still there an hour later, watching the sloop leaving Zykanthos and heading out to sea. A grim

smile teased her lips for she imagined her husband's brother did not like leaving with his tail tucked

between his arrogant legs.

"I've set guards to watching," Vargas told her when he finally joined her as she was inspecting a strange

plant that he told her was called donkey's tail.

"Wherever did he find a plant like this?" she marveled. "It is very striking."

"I don't recall, Milady, but everything in here is something he brought to
Vista Del Mar
."

She sighed, looking about her at all the plants she'd never seen before. "I see the brother is gone."

"Like a scalded dog," Vargas said. "But he'll be back and next time with several ships if I know him."

Celeste chewed on her lower lip for a moment then asked if there was a lawgiver on the island.

"Aye, there is but he stays to himself," Vargas said. "He retired many a year ago though he's not all that

old."

"Do you think he would come have a little talk with me?" she asked.

"I can't guarantee it but I will send Seth to ask, but, milady…" He paused, shifting from foot to foot.

She turned to look at the older man. "Yes?"

"Well, I know what you might want to ask him and I can tell you that under Argonnese law, the

commander is allowed to have more than one wife."

Celeste's eyes widened. "You are joking!"

"No, milady," Vargas said. "The problem is the first wife has more authority than the others."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that so? And do you know this woman Beatrice?" she asked.

Vargas shook his head. "I never even heard of her before today and I doubt the commander had, either,

but I know of Patterly. It's been in a right desperate state since its liege lord, Sir Angus Summerall, died

of lung fever last summer. Lady Beatrice must be Lord Angus' widow. If that's the case, I'm thinking

Lord James—the commander's father—has made the match to gain the Patterly estates."

"And Sierran's father can just marry him off to her without a by-your-leave from his son?"

"I guess so," Vargas said. "I'll send for the lawgiver, though. Maybe he can shed some light onto this."

"Was my father brought into the keep?" she asked softly.

"He is…" Vargas cleared his throat. "Below."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "In the dungeon?"

"
Vista del Mar
doesn't actually have a dungeon, milady," Vargas replied. "It wasn't built with one but

there is a store room into which we put him until other arrangements can be made."

"Thank you, Vargas," she said, bowing her head. "Would you see that he has supper taken to him?"

"Aye, milady," Vargas replied. "I'll see to it now."

For a long while, Celeste stood at the windows—the mysterious and beautiful plants ignored—and

stared out to sea. Her agile mind was working over the problem of being in competition with a woman

she'd never met but knowing it was she Sierran wanted and not the Lady Beatrice. As the sun set, she

was still there watching the scarlet globe sink into the west.

"Milady?"

She glanced around to find Vargas standing in the doorway. "Yes, Vargas?"

"Supper is ready, milady, and the lawgiver has arrived. I extended an invitation for him to sup with you if

that's all right."

"Perfectly all right, Vargas," she said. "Will you, Mac and Seth join us?"

Vargas nodded. "If that is your desire. We are accustomed to taking our meals with the commander."

She smiled. "I figured as much. Is he still asleep?"

"Like a babe in his blankie," Vargas replied with a grin. "Most likely he'll sleep through the night. I gave

him a fairly strong dosage." He ducked his head. "I didn't want him thinking on his brother's meanness."

"I quite agree," she said and walked over to him. She threaded her arm through his. "Lead on, my friend.

I find I am starving."

* * *

Lawgiver Brent LeMoyne was standing before the fireplace in the study with his forearm braced on the

mantle as he stared down into the crackling flames. It was rare he was asked to venture from his cottage

on the north edge of the island but when he'd seen Sierran's men assembling along the shore as a sloop

dropped anchor in the harbor there, he knew something was amiss. From his bedchamber window, he

had watched the Argonnese sloop lower a jolly boat into the water and he was fairly sure he recognized

one of Sierran's brothers sitting stiffly in the prow. When the jolly boat was turned back—that brother

shaking an irate fist at the gathered troops—he figured Sierran would be sending for him in his lawgiver

capacity soon enough.

However, he had not expected the summons to come from the new mistress of
Vista del Mar
rather than

his old friend Sierran.

"Sierran married," he said aloud to the leaping flames. "It had to happen, I suppose."

"Would you prefer that it hadn't?"

Brent flinched at the melodic voice that interrupted his musing. He dropped his arm from the mantel and

turned around to find himself staring into the beautiful face of a woman who would make any Goddess

jealous. It was a moment before he could speak for her overwhelming beauty was totally unexpected.

"Milady," he said, coming toward her with his hand outstretched. "Most certainly not!"

Celeste placed her hand in his and when he bowed to place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, she

felt a jolt go through her—one she knew he felt, as well.

Brent straightened up—his gaze locked with hers—unable to look away. A tingle went all the way up his

arm and when she eased her hand from his, that tingle disappeared in the wink of an eye.

"I am Celeste Allen Morgan," she said softly. "Vargas did not tell me your name."

"Brenton," he replied. "Brenton LeMoyne. My friends call me Brent."

She smiled. "And I hope we will be friends," she stated.

"I am sure we will,” he told her.

"Supper is awaiting us," she said and when he offered her his arm, she took it. She was not surprised he

knew where the dining hall was and led her to it.

"Do you spend much time at
Vista del Mar
?" she asked as he held her chair out for her at the head of

the table.

"No," he answered. "Both Sierran and I value our privacy but now and again he invites me." He took a

chair beside her. "He isn't home all that much actually."

"I believe he will be henceforth," she said. "He mentioned resigning his commission."

"I sincerely hope he does," Brent said. He took up his napkin and laid it in his lap. "The war with the

Emardians is winding down and peace is on the horizon. He's been fighting since he was in his mid teens."

"Has it been that long for him?" she asked. "I didn't know."

"As a younger son, it was either soldiering or the priesthood and I doubt Sierran would make a good

religious," he said with a grin.

"I agree," she said, a faint hint of color invading her cheeks.

"Where did the two of you meet or may I be so bold to ask?" he inquired as Vargas, Mac, and Seth

arrived.

"There you are!" Celeste said. "I wondered where you were."

"We had to clean up a bit before coming to your table, milady," Mac spoke for them. He took a chair

across from the lawgiver. "Good eve, Lord Brenton."

"MacDougal," Brent acknowledged. He nodded at the other men.

"When Vargas came to fetch us he was in his top sergeant capacity snapping at us to hurry," Mac told

Celeste.

A maid came in carrying a tray with bowls of steaming soup and placed the fragrant fare before each

diner. The butler poured a rosy-hued wine for each of the diners.

"Gilda's best soup," Brent said. "Potato and ham. It is sheer heaven."

"That it is," Vargas agreed.

The men were watching Celeste and she arched her brows in question.

"The commander says grace over the food," Vargas informed her.

"Oh," she said. "My father always did that." She extended one hand to Brent and the other to Mac. "Will

you join hands gentlemen?"

No one saw Sierran standing at the far end of the watching as Celeste bowed her head and gave thanks

for the meal she was about to enjoy. His heart filled with emotion for the five people sitting at his table

were the only five people in the entire world for whom he held any kind of feeling. He had known Vargas

since they were new recruits and had befriended Mac in the midst of a pitched battle that had nearly