Captive Embraces (8 page)

The crew was aghast. Frau Holtz held her breath, disbelieving what she had just heard. The old woman's hand groped the air in horror. “No! No!” she heard herself cry out. Had Sirena gone mad?

Caleb watched Sirena as she advanced. Her eyes penetrated his being and held him locked in a stare. Again her blade flashed, and she lunged, aiming for his heart. Tears of rage blinded her as she thrust again, this time with frenzy.

Caleb's gaze darkened as he effectively parried the offensive thrusts. She had backed him across the deck again. Soon he would be off balance if he couldn't distract her long enough to turn around. “Kill me if you must, Sirena. I'll fight no more!” he breathed, dropping his weapon defenselessly to his side.

Something in his words, in his voice disarmed her. She had heard those words before, but where? Who had said them to her in that same deep, gentle voice. Regan! Regan had said those words to her in the heat of a duel. The night had been dark as it was now. She had found the pirate Blackheart aboard his ship and she had met the swarthy Englishman at swords' point. Then she had killed him. How many men had she killed? Oh God, is this the divine retribution You have sent me?

Dick Blackheart, the worst scurve ever to ride the seas! He had murdered Tio Juan, seen Isabella slain, raped Sirena, then offered her to his filthy crew. The night she had killed Blackheart, Regan had said those very words to her. “Kill me,” he had said softly. “I'll fight no more ... You can't win, lovely Sea Siren. You may have pinned me halward but you still have to kill me ... Can you do it?” His eyes had darkened and glints of admiration shone as he had gazed at Sirena.

But she hadn't killed him, although there were times afterward when she almost wished she had. That night of bloodshed had ended in incomparable passion.

They had slipped aboard the deserted
Rana,
previously named
Sea Siren,
to bind one another's wounds. The cabin was dim, the oil from the lamps gone, the globe shattered. Regan had noticed a telltale stain on the back of her blouse.

“You could do with a bit of ointment. Come here!” he had commanded.

Sirena had bristled at his tone and was ready to turn on him and loose her wrath. But she had been tired, every nerve within her clamored for relief. Wearily, she had joined Regan on the bunk, allowing him to bathe the backs of her hands with water from the ewer and apply the salve.

His attitude had been so intent as he went about the business of dressing her wounds. Gruffly, he had ordered her to turn around and Sirena had surprised herself by obeying. Roughly, he pushed her down on the bedding and, before she could protest, ripped the bloody, tattered shirt from her back.

“Hold still, Sea Witch, I don't mean to hurt you.” Pressing her against the mattress, Regan had bathed away the blood, gently cleansing and tending the cut.

Slowly, Sirena had felt the tension of the fight drain out of her. The feel of his fingers on her flesh had been soothing, delivering her into a state of mind where she felt warm and peaceful.

From touch to caress, he had made love to her. He had awakened her sexuality with his lips, covering her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. She had moaned with exquisite joy and had welcomed him, pliant to his need and demands. They had shared love that night in the sequestering fog. Here, aboard this very ship, in her own cabin; her own bunk. Even now, she could almost hear her own voice as she had moaned against his lips, begging, imploring, “Have me! Have me now!”

Sirena saw Caleb give an imperceptible shake of his head to someone behind her. It was distraction enough for Caleb to change direction away from the rail. He began to move to midship, fending off Sirena's slicing weapon with the clash of steel. Still, she advanced on him, taking leaps to bridge the distance he managed to put between them. Her mouth was set in a straight line, her eyes murky with anguish and tears glistened on her flushed cheeks. Caleb understood. And with that sudden comprehension came a sharing of her pain and, at that moment, he would have given his life to rid her of it.

Again and again she attacked, her rapier making singing noises as it dangerously passed his ear. In her madness she had opened herself to attack. She had left herself unguarded. Caleb could have easily brought her down.

The crew waited; Frau Holtz covered her eyes. Jacobus stepped closer to the Frau and comforted her, hushing her mindless wailing.

Back, back, she drove Caleb, back against the mizzenmast, trapped between the great solid shaft of wood and the rage of the Sea Siren.

Wordlessly, she made her intent clear. Her rapier's tip slashed at his shirtfront, leaving tatters of the white cloth. Caleb could hear her deep heaving, saw the tears falling like silent soldiers on her cheeks.

Jabbing, she had him trapped; he could feel the heavy knots of the rigging hard against his back. She was so close he could feel her breath upon his cheek, but still he would not defend himself.

Sirena raised her arm, the rapier's point aiming directly for his neck. With a cry of the forsaken damned she lunged forward, the last shred of her sanity compelling her to deviate from her intended target. The point buried itself in the mizzenmast mere inches from Caleb's convulsing throat.

For a long moment they stared into one another's eyes. The horror of her actions dawned on Sirena and she shuddered with shame. Caleb held his arms out to her in forgiveness.

Holding her close, he whispered, “Sirena, forgive me for looking so much like my father.”

Trying to control a torrent of tears, Sirena's body shook. Her proud head hung low in shame and she would receive no comfort for what she had almost done. Not trusting her voice, she silently turned and walked slowly across the deck to her cabin.

Frau Holtz and the crew watched as she stepped inside and quietly closed the door, shutting out the world, preferring to suffer in isolation.

Sirena spent the next three days confined to the cabin, refusing to open the door even for Frau Holtz. Food left outside was left untouched; and when the Frau pressed her ear against the solid oak frame, no sounds could be heard from within. Only the lamp lighted within gave the housekeeper reason to sigh with relief.

Several times Frau Holtz implored Caleb to break down the door. “I'd do anything for you, Frau Holtz,” he answered softly, “anything but this. I know Sirena, and she needs this time without interference.” As he murmured the words, the housekeeper saw the depths of sympathy. His thoughts were plainly visible. Caleb was of the mind that Sirena had locked herself away because she could not bear the sight of him.

“I know what you're thinking, Caleb,” Frau Holtz soothed, “and you're wrong. Sirena loves you.”

“No, Frau Holtz,” he replied, “that was in the past. Now when she looks at me, she sees my father and she can't bear it. If I thought it would give her any peace, I'd throw myself overboard and be done with it.”

The woman clasped him tightly. “Never say that Sirena would be lost without you; all she needs is time to straighten things in her own mind.”

Caleb patted her reassuringgly. “I know. Of course, you're right. There's no doubt in my mind she will come to terms with the divorce, sooner or later. Meanwhile, she has to face me and the memories I conjure. She'll come out of this; I have faith in her.”

The Frau released Caleb from her embrace and did not refute what he had told her.

On the fourth day, when the housekeeper tried Sirena's door, she was surprised to find it open. Balancing a laden breakfast tray on her hip, she kicked the door wider and entered, her sharp eyes raking the cabin. Sirena sat on the side of her bunk, her hair disheveled and her clothing wrinkled and untidy. The room looked exactly as it had the last time the Frau was in it, just before the contest with Caleb. So, Sirena had spent the past days huddled atop her bunk, sorting out her thoughts and emotions. From the expression of weary resolution on her face, apparently Sirena had come to terms with herself.

The fragrant aroma of coffee captured Sirena's immediate attention. “I'll be needing a bath, Frau Holtz. Will you see to it?”

“Ja,
I will see to it,” the old woman answered, a cheery note in her voice as she spread honey on one of Jacobus' biscuits and handed it to Sirena.

Sirena ate voraciously and swallowed down the last of the coffee while the Frau went to ask Jacobus to heat water for the high-back, copper hip bath. Jan and Willem returned with the water, deftly handling the heavy pails as though they were weightless. They offered her a jaunty salute and, after several moments' conversation about latitude and longitude, Sirena dismissed them.

The Frau watched her Mevrouw carefully and saw that the hot water and fragrant bath salts were working their own special magic in restoring Sirena's spirits. She watched Sirena's green eyes take on their familiar glitter and her mouth hover somewhere between a smile and a pout.

As Sirena went about dressing in her abbreviated sea costume, Frau Holtz asked innocently, “Ja, it is good to see you yourself again, Mevrouw. Am I to take it you have come to terms with what the Mynheer has done?”

“Yes, Frau Holtz, you could say that. I know exactly where I stand! And I can tell you I don't like it one bit!” Sirena's movements became as angry as her emotions as she pulled on her tall kid boots. “Divorce me, will he!” she muttered. “Pension me off, as he no doubt intends to do. Oh, Regan is too much the gentleman to think of me destitute and starving and he certainly wouldn't like to consider me taking to piracy to seek a living! No, he'll see to it that I'm given a generous allotment.”

She slipped a brilliant silk print blouse over her smooth shoulders and tied it tightly beneath her jutting breasts. “Cast me aside like an old shoe, steal my inheritance! Bastard!” she cursed, to Frau Holtz's stunned amazement. “He'll rue the day he ever left Java!”

“How do you intend to do this?” Frau Holtz asked fearfully.

“You heard me, I'll get it all back and then some,” Sirena shouted, “one way or another. And Regan, too! He'll not get away with stealing from me and then divorcing me!”

“But, Mevrouw,” Frau Holtz soothed, “the law reads that a husband has control of his wife's holdings. You relinquished all rights to your inheritance when you married him. That is hardly stealing!” “Well, I call it

Sirena turned to the other woman. “Well, I call it thievery! Listen, old friend, when I was Regan's wife, anything and everything was his, with my blessings. When I knew he loved me, I gave myself and all I owned to his safekeeping. I trusted him, with my heart, my life, everything. Well, he's betrayed that trust! Oh, I know all about men who become tired of their wives and look for excitement in another woman's bed. The most those wives can hope for is that their husbands do it discreetly, leaving them the tatters of their dignity to shield themselves from the mockery of the world. Regan has not even left me this. He has stripped everything away from me and left me to live from his charity. Yes, I told you it was quite possible Tio Esteban has my mother's fortune in safekeeping for me, but it is essentially the same. I don't even have a sham of a marriage to hide behind; he has left me a scorned woman!”

“No, I don't believe it,” the Frau protested. “There's an error, a misunderstanding. Never have I seen two people so much in love ... so right together ... The Mynheer is—”

“The Mynheer is stupid!” Sirena finished her sentence. “He should know better than to do this to me. Does he think I'll sit idly by while he philanders around and spends my money? He thinks I'm still in Java. He considers himself safe and free to do as he wishes ... with my money! Oh! I can almost see him, so smug and content with himself. Hear me well, Frau Holtz, I'll get it back, every last penny. He's going to live in England. Hah! If he can still call it living, when I'm through with him. I'll take everything that's mine; and, if he's lucky enough to withhold a single pound sterling I'll shove it down his throat! He has his own wealth from liquidating his properties in Batavia. Let him go back there and uproot those awful nutmeg trees I nearly broke my back planting for him. You, too, Frau Holtz. Don't you remember the long hours we spent restoring the plantation after the volcano erupted, leaving nothing behind but ashes? And who reaped the harvest? Regan! And what does he do? He takes everything I worked so hard to give him and runs to Spain where he can take everything my family struggled for. My inheritance, my ships, everything!” Exhausted from her tirade, Sirena threw herself on her bunk and stared up at the ceiling.

Sirena's anger was a relief to the Frau. Too long Sirena had been lethargic, a shell of herself. Anything, even this rage, was better than that stillness.

 

Later, on deck, Sirena held the wheel, which was nearly as tall as herself, in her capable hands. This was where she belonged. The tang of the salt air, the spindrift spraying her ivory cheeks as she stood with her feet firmly placed on the rolling deck. This was home. Yet, there was something missing. A tight feeling of discontent still lay heavy on her. Home was the deck of the
Rana
but, soon now, she would have to face the world and society. She wondered if somehow it was stamped on her features that she was a woman who had been found lacking by her husband. That she was unwanted, rejected, scorned. An icy-cold glare crept into her eyes and she was aware that a part of her retreated into herself. Was she destined to ride the sea for the remainder of her life, a soul-less being, hiding from the world's condemnation?

Sirena sailed the
Rana
by rote. Hour after hour, she stood at the wheel, her eyes on the bright, glistening waters of the Atlantic. As time passed, the strangeness in her eyes became more pronounced. She never allowed anyone to take the wheel from her when the weather became rough. Frau Holtz explained to Caleb that it was Sirena's way of punishing herself. Caleb nodded and managed to stay out of Sirena's range of vision whenever possible. It seemed that every time she noticed him she would complain about something he had or hadn't done. No matter what he did, it was not to her liking. Her eyes would become bitter and defensive when she spoke to him or when he offered to help her.

Once, when she was nearly asleep at the wheel, Caleb crept up on her and gently led her back to her cabin. She had looked at him in the old, loving way and said softly, tears in her eyes, “You are your father's son. If I seem ... if it's hard for you ... what I mean is—”

“Sirena, there's no need for words. I understand. My presence is unbearable for you. It's well that we talk now for when we reach Spain on the morrow, I will leave you there and make my way to England. I'm telling you this so you'll know where to reach me if you should ever need me. All I ask is that you don't hold me accountable for Regan's actions. My days of defending you to each other are over. I'll start to make a life for myself. I'll work hard and, if I'm lucky, I may one day meet a woman like you. I'll demand that she be as beautiful as you, as intelligent; and I'll insist that she loves me more than you do. You see, Sirena, I know you do love me. And I care very much for you, Sirena,” he said, so softly that a rush of tears began to form in Sirena's eyes. “Now,” he said on a lighter note, “do you think I'll ever find the woman of my dreams?”

“If there is such a woman, you'll find her. I wish you well, little brother.”

“Sirena, about Regan. I—”

“Not to worry. I'll manage and I'll survive. I have endured worse than this. I'll make a new life for myself and I might even be happy. I'll miss you. Remember, this ship is yours. I promised you would receive it when you came of age, and I believe the time has come. The necessary title will be made out to you when we reach Spain. I'll take Frau Holtz with me, but the crew is yours. I'm certain they would be honored to sail the
Rana
with you as her master.”

“Your men will never leave you, Sirena. Besides, I feel they resent me. I'm not blind. I've seen how they react to me. They don't understand why your feelings toward me have seemed to change, and I don't feel that I should explain. No, they're loyal men. And Jacobus would be loath to separate company from Frau Holtz. I've heard that he's proposed marriage to her.”

“Is that why she's been curling her hair and borrowing my lip rouge?” Sirena giggled.

“I'm glad you still have a sense of humor, Sirena. For a while I was very concerned for you. Sirena, I owe—”

“Shhhh,” Sirena said as she held a finger to his lips.

“I understand perfectly. Whatever I may have done for you, you have returned twofold. No thanks are needed. I ask only that you care for the
Rana
as you would for this fine, beautiful, intelligent girl you're looking for. Caleb, you must have money! At the moment I have none but that will be remedied as soon as I see Tio Esteban. Take my jewels. Please. Another time and another place, you can repay me. I insist,” she stated firmly.

Sirena looked away as she saw a slight, glassy film swim over Caleb's eyes. “I'll talk to you later, for now I must rest. Take everything out of the coffer from beneath the bunk. Be certain you get a good price for the pearls, they're perfectly matched.”

“I'll haggle without mercy,” Caleb grinned.

“Little brother, can you ever forgive me for my actions when we ... when I nearly—”

“Sirena, no apologies are necessary,” Caleb interjected softly, his brown eyes gentle with loving understanding. “What is past is past. What is important to me now is that I know you love me.” He took her in his arms and held her close, warming her with his love, sensing the rigid core within her bend a little as she accepted his embrace.

“Sirena,” he whispered huskily, “I know how dead you must be feeling inside, how lost. I know you feel there is nothing inside you to offer, no warmth, no love. So, for the time being, just accept my love. Just take it and keep it as you always have. I make no demands on you, what is a brother for if he can't love his sister?”

Sirena was choked with emotion. How well Caleb understood her. How kind he was. “Caleb, I am more proud of you at this moment than I have ever been. You have become a man in every sense and your consideration is more than I deserve.”

“Hush, Sirena. You know you deserve everything, more than I can ever give you. I am who I am because of you. I owe you my life and I need nothing more from you than to hear you call me ‘little brother.' ”

Sirena was overcome. “You are my little brother, Caleb, in the fullest sense of the word.” Fiercely, she clutched him to her, tears stinging her eyes.
“Vaya con Dios,
little brother. We will meet again.”

She released him and Caleb brushed his lips across her tear-streaked cheek, too moved for words. Before the divorce, Sirena almost never cried and her futile sobbing was tearing at his heart.

 

When he returned to the deck, Caleb motioned for Jan to join him at the rail where they stood looking down into the ebony, swirling waters as the
Rana
plowed her way gracefully through the waves. Caleb spoke quietly. “Listen to me, Jan, for I must speak with you. When we reach port tomorrow, I plan to lay in provisions and sail the
Rana
to England with a crew of my own. Sirena has given me permission to take all of you with me, and nothing would please me more. But I told her these sailors would insist on staying with her. She needs all of you. I can't stay here with her,” Caleb said sadly. “Every time she looks at me, she's reminded of my father. I can't go on tormenting her day after day. She's going to make a new life for herself and she needs your support.”

Jan looked away. The sadness in the young man's eyes had a haunting quality, and Jan felt his emotions rise up to choke him.

“Jan, you and the crew must be curious to know what's happened. My father divorced Sirena. She didn't know until I told her at the academy. I had to tell her. I couldn't let her go to her solicitor in Spain and find out from someone else. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so. Rarely have I seen a love like theirs. I'm sorry for the Capitana. Of course, we'll stay with her. The strange look in her eyes haunts all of us.”

“Have you ever seen that look before, Jan?”

“No. I've tried to put a name to it but it eludes me. Have you ever witnessed it, Caleb?”

“Yes,” Caleb answered, without hesitation. “Once, a long time ago, when the
Rana
was assaulted by Dick Blackheart's pirates and they raped Sirena and killed her uncle and sister. The expression you see in her eyes is humiliation and scorn. She's been rejected by the man she loves, by the man with whom she had a son. You must help her. If I thought for one moment I could be of some use to her, I would stay and not a soul could drive me away. Unfortunately, I'm the one person she can't bear to see. For that reason, I must go.”

Jan nodded in agreement He knew how strong the bond between Sirena and Caleb was, and he knew what it was costing Caleb to leave Sirena this way.

“I wonder if you and the others would do me a favor when we reach port? I want the name of the
Rana
changed to read Sea Siren. Will you do that for me while I see about laying in provisions and getting a new crew together?”

“Hell, I'll do it myself!” Jan grasped Caleb's shoulder and shook it roughly. “We'll watch over her, have no fear. You'll be in England, you say? If I ever find myself there, I'll be sure to look you up.”

“Make that a promise and tell the others the same. I have to relieve Willem at the wheel. Remember, Jan. Watch over her.”

“Aye, with our life, Caleb.”

 

The sun was high when the
Rana
docked once again in the port of Cádiz. Sirena stood on deck and looked in frustration at what was once her homeland. She no longer felt a bond with either Spain or Java. It was as though she didn't belong anywhere.

“We can go ashore now,” Caleb said quietly. “It's time to say good-bye, big sister. I wish you well and good fortune. You'll find happiness. I know it as surely as I know I must take my next breath. Godspeed, Sirena,” he said gruffly as he gathered her into a strong embrace.

Sirena watched as he leapt ashore, carrying his shirt in his hand, his strong, bronzed back rippling from the impact of hitting solid ground. He shaded his eyes and gave her a jaunty salute before he raced off in search of men and supplies.

“Godspeed, little brother,” Sirena whispered hoarsely, her throat working convulsively. Behind her, the crew had gathered, their jackets and sea bags slung over their shoulders. They watched her expectantly, waiting for their Capitana's orders.

Sirena eyed them all with fondness and compassion. They had brought her to Cádiz and because they had declined Caleb's offer to sail with him, they were left stranded without a ship. She couldn't allow them to leave her now. Where would they go? The sea was the only life they knew. “Willem has gone to hire a conveyance to take me to my solicitor's office. I pray that he has returned from his journey by this time. Currently, I can't tell you what my plans are, but you are welcome to make your home with me. The decision is yours. My offer is sincere and I won't harbor ill feeling for any of you who do not wish to join me.”

Sirena waited, hardly daring to hope that the loyal sailors would accept her offer. When the unanimous shout of affirmation rose up, she had to fight to keep her tears in check. They were her friends, and loyalty of mind and spirit was all that was necessary to bind them all together, no matter what happened in the future.

Frau Holtz stood on one side of her and Jacobus on the other as they descended the gangplank to the dock. “Don't look back, Capitana,” Jacobus suggested. “She's only timber and a bit of sail.” Sirena gulped and bit into her lip. She faltered only once before squaring her shoulders and marching up the walkway, with her crew trailing behind, singing lustily of bawdy women and ripe love.

Willem removed his cap and bowed low with a sweeping flourish as he ushered Sirena and the Frau into the carriage he had summoned. With final words of how the crew could be found in the taprooms dockside, Sirena promised to send Jacobus for them as soon as she had made arrangements to occupy the stately Córdez
casa
which overlooked the harbor.

Frau Holtz settled her ample form beside Sirena, carefully pushing aside her Mevrouw's crisp, finely striped gown of pearl gray and black taffeta. Glancing covertly at her mistress, she appreciated the delicate open ruff that was cut to reveal Sirena's slender throat and lush rise of bosom. From beneath the wide-brimmed Cavalier hat, set firmly atop her glossy, dark curls, Sirena's attention was fixed upon the scene outside her carriage window.

This was still the Cádiz of her childhood, and she doubted it would ever change. Here the sun still baked the whitewashed buildings and the shadows still offered a cool respite from the heat. Children ran the streets playing with a stone and stick, calling to each other in spirited voices. The narrow cobbled streets reached in curving roundabout paths to the crests of the small hills overlooking the harbor. Red-tiled roofs overhung terraced courtyards and sported hanging pots filled with exciting blossoms, as though they were badges worn proudly upon a soldier's breast. Every once in a while, it was possible to glance into the alleys between the houses and see clotheslines hung with linens and bedding to catch the sun and the fresh ocean breezes. Sirena could remember sleeping upon pillows that had aired in the sunshine and smelled of the salt tang. She had lain her head upon many pillows since she was a child, but there was something special in the winds which blew into the Cádiz port. Rife with the natural elements, there was also a sense of excitement and life; something which was a part of Cádiz itself.

“Where are we going?” the Frau questioned, breaking into Sirena's thoughts.

“The first order of the day is to inquire after Tio Esteban, Señor Esteban Arroya. When we were last in Cádiz, Tio was not in his offices. He was visiting his daughter and journeying on to Italy. He has always handled the business dealings of the Córdez family; and, since I was a child, Isabella and I referred to him as uncle.”

Since Sirena did not continue with any further information, Frau Holtz kept her peace and allowed her mistress to turn her eyes once again to the window and her reverie.