Heather Graham - [Camerons Saga - North American Woman 02] (39 page)

She stopped, gasping. She recognized Robert Arrowsmith, the Silver Hawk’s first officer aboard his pirate ship. “Robert!”

“Milady!” He doffed his hat to her, then swore. “Come! Come with me now!”

She didn’t have time to agree or disagree. He urged his mount quickly forward and reached down to her, sweeping her up before him on his mount even as the bay pranced and prepared to bolt.

“Skye!” Mattied shrieked, coming after her.

“Tell her it’s all right,” Robert warned her.

“Mattie! It’s fine. He’s a—friend.”

Mattie’s tense and worried features as they rode into the night gave Skye a second seizure of guilt for the evening. Mattie would understand, surely. Mattie loved Theo Kinsdale as much as Skye did. But she would worry. She would worry horribly.

And worse. She would go back to the house and arouse Lord Cameron and then Roc would come riding for her. She swallowed as the wind lashed against her face. It was going to be dark along the road.

She couldn’t fear the darkness, for there were worse dangers in the offering that night. Roc Cameron might well come for her, determined to kill the Silver Hawk. And if he did, it might well be her own fault—because she had told her husband that she was no innocent bride and that the Hawk had behaved in a foul and abusive way and seized her innocence away.…

She couldn’t think about it. Robert would take her to the Hawk, and when she reached him, she would explain that they had to run, and quickly. He was a fool for being in Virginia anyway. Governor Eden of North Carolina might suffer pirates, but Lieutenant Alexander Spotswood of Virginia did not. The Hawk had to flee Virginia, and since he did, he might as well seek out Lord Theo Kinsdale and reap the benefits of the gold that Skye would so gladly pay.

The gold only! she thought with vehemence.

Gold … and nothing of herself.

She shivered, remembering the day not so long ago when she had lain in the pirate’s arms beneath the sun. When she had felt his dark beard brush her naked flesh along with the searing rays of the sun. It was so easy to remember.

Easy to remember the first night, the very first night. He had warned her.…

And she had walked into his arms anyway, of her own free will.

That was before! she vowed to herself. Before she had come to know Petroc Cameron. Before she had discovered that she could love him. Before this very night, even, when she had come to him knowing that she would leave him, and determined
to love him first. It was before the soaring splendor of his passion.

She trembled suddenly, and it was not the darkness of the night that brought her fear. Robert rode behind her, and though the lamps of the city were fading behind them, the moon was very high. There was light.

And she was learning not to fear the darkness, to fight the panic of it. Roc Cameron had done that for her, she thought. He had drawn the venom of the past from her soul. She had spoken about it to him, and she wasn’t afraid. Roc had taken the words from her, while the Silver Hawk had taught her that there could always be a beacon against the darkness of the night.

The Silver Hawk …

She loved her husband.

She had fallen in love with the pirate king first, and though his memory had faded away only to combine with that of the man she had legally wed, she was both dreading and anticipating her meeting with the pirate. What would his memories be?

What would his demands be?

Could she sell her soul to come to him again, if that should be his price?

“Are you cold?” Robert whispered behind her.

She shook her head. “No. I am—I am anxious to see the Hawk. Are you certain you know where he is?”

“Yes.”

She hesitated, thinking how kind Robert had always been to her. He was here in Virginia, and she had to be glad. But she dreaded the future for him. “Robert, you shouldn’t be here!”

“The Hawk dares anything.”

“The Hawk is not in Williamsburg.”

Robert chuckled softly. “Sometimes it is necessary to come close to the flame of the fire, lady. Surely, you know that.”

“You came to Williamsburg to spy,” she accused him.

“Aye, milady, I did.”

“If they catch you, they’ll hang you.”

“They’ll never catch the Silver Hawk.”

“But—”

“I am Robert Arrowsmith here, milady, good citizen of His
Majesty’s colony of Virginia. I am safe.” He hesitated. “Are you all right? We are almost there, another twenty minutes.”

They no longer galloped, but Robert moved the horse along at a quick trot. The moon beat strongly upon the road, but she was touched. Even Robert considered her fear of the darkness.

“I am fine,” she murmured, twisting to seek out his eyes. “But my husband might come after me. Robert, I would not have him come upon you.…”

“Is his temper so bad then?”

“He would slay a pirate, surely.”

“But you would defend me?”

“I would, for you were always kind.”

“And tell me, milady, what of the Hawk himself? Would your husband seek to slay him, or await a hanging?”

She started to shiver again. She could not imagine the Silver Hawk and Lord Cameron coming together. One of them would die, and she would not be able to endure the outcome of it.

“Hurry, Robert! Race the night, for we must get the Hawk and leave Virginia. We must!”

“We!”

“Yes! My father—”

“I know about your father, milady. But there will be no ‘we.’ I’ll talk to the Hawk with you on your behalf, and I know that he will set sail. But he will not take you. You will go home.”

She would not go home. She could not go home, not now. But she didn’t tell Robert that—it was something she would have to worry about later.

Robert turned his mount eastward toward the river, nudging the animal’s ribs, and sweeping them into a fast lope once again. She liked Robert so much! Skye thought. She felt warm with him, and assured that he would carry her to the Hawk.

Even if he had stolen her emerald!

It was all right. It was all right to race with him through the night, leaning low against the flying mane of his bay horse, feeling the wind and the gentle wash of the glowing moon upon her. It would be all right.…

“There! We’re coming up on the Blackhorse now!” Robert said, reining in. “Stay with me, milady, do you understand?”

Skye nodded. She was glad of his presence, for she did not like the appearance of the tavern.

It stood just off the waterway and the docks, a rickety place with broken windowpanes and faulty steps. Dim, misty light issued from the open doorway and windows, and raucous laughter could be heard.

Robert dismounted from the horse, reaching up to help her down. Skye drew the hood of her navy mantle close over her forehead and slipped her hand through his arm as he led her toward the doorway.

It was not a place for a lady.

It was a complete den of iniquity, she thought, and her heart hammered somewhat as she thought of the Hawk. How dare he come here when she might need him! It was not a place where any decent woman would want to be.

“Milady?” Robert said to her, watching her curiously.

“Shall we?” she murmured.

He helped her up the rickety steps and through the open front doorway, and there they paused.

The main rooms were heavy with smoke and they stank of ale. Even the standing room by the bar was crowded, and all manner of men—and women—were there. The smell of humanity was terrible here. The men were old and young, but all of them had a look of dust and dirt about them; they were neither clean shaven, nor did they seem to have a decent beard among them. One fellow at the bar wore an eye patch and a white queued wig, but his wig was askew and his brawny shoulders seemed about to split the shoulders of his elegant mustard frockcoat. A stolen coat, no doubt, Skye thought.

Nearby at one of the tables a group of seamen in linen shirts and caps frolicked with a single, buxom, dark-haired wench. One fellow slipped his hand straight into her bodice while she kissed another, then laughed uproariously. She bit into the coins handed to her by the both of them, then laughed, and kissed them each, in turn.

Robert cleared his throat.

“The Silver Hawk is here?” she said.

“Aye, milady. He is a pirate, you know.”

She thought that Robert’s eyes were twinkling. “A pirate, a rogue, and he’ll hang!” she agreed. She cried out as one of the men from the rough wood table rose, grinned a drunken grin, and lunged toward her. Robert stepped forward and his fist shot out and the man fell flat to the floor. “She’s come to see the Hawk!” he warned the others. “Make way—she’s here for the Hawk!”

Men and wenches stepped aside and Robert led her through the path of them toward a dark and narrow stairway in the rear. Skye felt eyes boring into her. The men coveted her gold, or her person, Skye thought. The women would have gladly robbed her blindly of her clothing.

But Robert was at her back. And he had announced that she had come for the Hawk. None of them would touch her.

“This is awful!” she muttered.

Robert passed ahead, catching her hand. She saw his eyes, and he flashed her a smile. “As I said, milady, the Hawk is a pirate.”

“Umm. And welcome to his ways.”

“You mustn’t be … jealous, milady.”

“Jealous! I assure you, sir, I am not jealous!”

“Umm, well, begging your pardon, milady, it did seem at the end that you and the Hawk had settled … er … well, certain of your difficulties. But you must remember, and I warn you kindly, that he is a rogue and a fiend.”

“Oh, is he? Thank you for the warning, Robert. I might not have noted that on my own!”

They had come to the top of the stairs. Robert smiled, and with a broad shrug he cast open the door there. He prodded Skye into the murky light of the room, then closed the door behind her.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light in the room. She heard a soft giggle, then she stared with amazement and a slow simmering rage.

Robert had brought her to the Hawk, all right!

“Lady Kinsdale! Why, no, ’tis Lady Cameron, is it not?”

She stood dead still, collecting her wits and control as she stared at the Hawk. He lay bare-chested atop the bed, with a
beautiful redheaded wench curled nearly atop him. The girl watched her with amusement; the Hawk watched her with interest. His hand rested lightly atop the redhead’s hair, and he seemed not at all distressed to have been found so by Skye.

“Aye, ’tis Lady Cameron,” she murmured, pushing away from the door. If the sea slime meant to unnerve her, he would be surprised. She would never let him know that her insides were afire, that she had thought that he had come to care for her because he had taken her with such passion and such fire.…

She was not jealous! He was a fiend, a beast, a pirate! Robert had warned her.

But she had spent all that time on the road here wondering what she should do if he demanded her love in payment for service. Demanded her love! The rogue had a string of women in every port.

The sheets were drawn to his waist. He folded his hands over them and cocked his bearded face to the side. “Far be it from me to question a lady, madame, but what are you doing in such a place? Did you miss me so, then? Were you anxious to come back?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but teased the redhead at his side. “If Lady Cameron is anxious, then you must hurry away, Yvette.”

“I’ve come on business!” Skye snapped.

“Oh. Oh!” He pretended that it was a very grave matter, narrowing his eyes. Skye shivered suddenly, fiercely. Now she shivered because his resemblance to her husband was so great. Cousins! They were near to being twins. If she had not seen the both of them at the same time on the day that she sailed away from Bone Cay, she could easily think that they were one.

Well, the Silver Hawk had been bred on the wrong side of the Cameron covers. She had seen the portraits now at Cameron Hall. This Cameron had the eyes, if not the name.

“Sir—” Skye began, but he interrupted her, turning to the redhead.

“Yvette, love, this is business.” He gave her an affectionate pat on the rump, and Yvette arose, dragging one of the covers along with her. She wrinkled her nose Skye’s way.

“That’s business, Hawk? Eh, is she paying you then, love, for the servicing?”

Skye nearly gasped, but determined that Yvette was a whore, and she was a lady. She smiled sweetly instead and strode very calmly for the washbowl. Within a blink of an eye, she had tossed the contents of it over Yvette’s red head. The girl cried out in shock and rage.

“Eh, Hawk—stop her, or I will!”

Yvette lunged across the bed for her. The Hawk reached out for Yvette, capturing her wrists. Sodden, she fell against him and he laughed. “I cannot kiss and tell, Yvette, but if Lady Cameron needs a word with me, then for”—his silver gaze shot to Skye—“then for old times’ sake, I must listen.”

“You’re a very scurvy son-of-a-bitch, sir,” Skye said sweetly. She watched as Yvette arose, looked her way with menace, then smiled to the Hawk.

“See you later, love.”

“You’ll see him on a gibbet, I’m sure,” Skye said pleasantly. Her eyes remained upon him. Yvette slammed the door.

The Hawk smiled deeply and patted the now empty spot on the bed beside him. “Care to join me?”

“Never.”

“Ah, Lady Cameron, but you lie!” he taunted her, his silver gaze wide. “I can make you want me, you know.”

Skye lifted her brows with imperious disdain. “No, you cannot, Captain Hawk. I do not come where refuse has lain.”

“Refuse?”

“Trash, rank trash.”

“Do you refer to the girl—or to me. Wait, wait, don’t answer that. She must be rank trash, since I am merely sea slime.”

Skye carefully ignored him, remaining very straight, her eyes smoldering. “I have come on business—”

“Wait,” he interrupted her sharply, his gaze narrowing upon her. He sat up further, winding his arms around his legs as he watched her. “We have not finished with this first business yet.”

“Aye, sir, but we have finished!” she insisted softly.

“I remember the very day that you left me, madame. The
warmth and the woman. Where has she gone? Where is the warmth.”