Island Flame (30 page)

“Daughter, this man is considerably older than you, is he not?” he began gently. He realized that condemning her affection for the pirate out-of-hand would only serve to alienate her.

“He’s thirty-four,” Cathy replied faintly, sinking back down into her chair. Her father’s sudden volte-face surprised her. She had expected him to rave for hours.

“I thought so.” Sir Thomas sounded as if his gravest fears had been confirmed. “Have you reason to suppose that he loves you?”

“Well …”

“Has he ever said so?” Sir Thomas pursued. A keen glance at Cathy’s flushing face told him that he was on the right tack.

“N-no,” she had to admit. Her eyes dropped to study
the rich red carpet, against which her sandal-shod feet looked totally out of place.

“I thought not,” Sir Thomas sighed heavily and resumed his seat, once more taking Cathy’s hand. “My child, a man of thirty-four, especially an unprincipled brigand, will have known scores of women in the biblical sense. Any feelings you may have aroused in him were no novelty to him, believe me. But you, on the other hand, totally innocent, sheltered from men, you mistook your very natural physical awakening for love. It’s normal for a young girl to imagine a deathless romance with the first man who makes her a woman. Haven’t you noticed yourself that many young ladies who despise their husbands before marriage soon grow attached to them? Why do you suppose that is, daughter?”

Cathy thought. What her father said was true. She had known girls who had wept at the idea of marriage only to appear later to be perfectly resigned to their fates, and even fond of their husbands. But.…

“It’s not like that, Papa,” she said determinedly. “I really love Jon. He’s handsome and strong, and he can be very gentle and sweet.…”

Her father gave a rueful bark of laughter.

“Of course he’s been gentle and sweet with you, my poor child. Pleasure for a man is much enhanced by a willing partner. I know. I myself have used that technique on a female to ensure her compliance with my wishes. And the sweet young things have all supposed me to be madly in love with them, while in actual fact it was no such thing. A man doesn’t dishonor a woman he loves, and a woman would be well advised to use the degree of respect a man accords her as a gauge of his true feelings.”

Sir Thomas was satisfied with the effect of this speech. Cathy appeared to be struck, and if he could have somehow known her thoughts he would have been happier yet. It’s true, she was thinking. Jon did prefer me when I was willing. Was his tenderness just a ruse to get me to accept his lovemaking? She could only judge by the depth of her emotions for him, but her father’s words had opened even her own feelings to suspicion. Was what she felt for Jon really love, or was it the natural reaction of a young female to a handsome male? How could she be sure?

Seeing that he had given her food for thought, Sir Thomas wisely said no more on the subject. Instead, he turned his attention to an even weightier problem.

“Cathy,” he said at last, startling her out of the maze she was lost in. “We must get you wed, child. As I see it, that’s the only thing that will serve to restore your reputation.”

Cathy looked up at him enquiringly, her blue eyes, so like his own, misty with thought. It was a moment before she answered.

“Wed, Papa?” she repeated stupidly.

“Yes, daughter. I have in mind a young lieutenant of good family who is presently stationed aboard the
Lady Chester.
He’s just three years older than you, a handsome, gentlemanly lad. Of course, it’s nothing like the marriage you could have made, but under the circumstances any marriage at all is better than none. As it is, I am convinced that I can induce this young man to claim fathership of the child. His family is rather low on funds just at present, you see.”

Cathy stared at him, the color slowly draining from her lips. Her hands clenched into tight fists in her lap.

“You propose to buy me a husband, Papa?” she asked tightly. Sir Thomas met her rapidly cooling gaze calmly.

“My dear, we have little choice. Not many men will take you without some inducement. Be realistic, daughter. Not only for your own sake, but for mine, and even for the child you carry. If any of us are to ever hold up our heads again, you must have a husband.”

Cathy thought deeply. What her father said was true, and was indeed no more than she had told herself earlier. Did she want to bear a bastard child, to watch it suffer the stigma of illegitimacy? Did she herself want to face scorn and ridicule for the rest of her life, to be barred from polite society? No, she didn’t. And marriage seemed to be the only way to prevent it.

“I agree with you, Papa,” she said clearly. Sir Thomas regarded her with some surprise. He had expected an argument, not this level acceptance.

“Excellent!” His bluff features relaxed into a smile. “I’ll make arrangements at once. The sooner you are wed, the sooner the talk will die.”

“I have just one condition, Papa.”

Sir Thomas looked at her fondly. “What is it, daughter?”

“I want my husband to be of my choosing.”

Sir Thomas spluttered. “But, my dear, there is no time for you to meet eligible young men. We must act quickly if we are to act at all. If we wait, we will no longer be able to claim the child as premature when it comes.”

“The man I have in mind will take no time to find, Papa.”

Cathy’s meaning crept up on Sir Thomas like a bush fighter on an unsuspecting enemy regular. His eyes narrowed at her.

“I presume that you’re referring to the pirate?”

“His name is Jon, Papa. And yes, I’m referring to him.”

“But, daughter, I have already explained to you that what this man feels for you is nothing like love. And you will soon come to realize that you don’t love him, either. There’s no reason for you to compound your mistake by marrying the fellow.”

“There’s a very good reason, Papa. I’m carrying his child.” Cathy’s blue eyes met her father’s calmly.

Sir Thomas sighed. When he spoke, his voice had hardened.

“Cathy, you must understand that I will not permit you to marry this man. Why, he is a murderer, a criminal! You would be ashamed of him as soon as you came to your senses, and would reproach me for permitting such a thing to befall you! Good God, what do you propose to do with him after the ceremony? Take him back to London, and introduce him around the Court? We would be laughed out of England!”

Cathy’s chin set in the mulish lines he knew and dreaded. Blast her stubbornness!

“Papa, if I don’t marry Jon I won’t marry anyone.” The very coldness of her voice was horribly convincing. Still, Sir Thomas tried. He glowered at his daughter, his face suffusing with the angry color that used to alarm her into compliance.

“By damn, girl, you can’t defy me! I am your father, and it is my responsibility to arrange your future. You will wed whom I name!”

“I am very sorry to disoblige you, Papa, but I will marry Jon, or I won’t marry at all!”

Two sets of almost identical blue eyes warred with each other, both refusing to give ground.

“And what happens after the ceremony, if I were foolish enough to permit such a thing? You realize that your pirate is still under sentence of death, don’t you? It is unlikely that he will escape the gallows forever. His kind rarely do.”

“I know how much influence you have at Court, Papa. You could easily arrange a pardon, if you so desired.”

While Cathy was talking, Sir Thomas’s thoughts raced on ahead. Now that he considered it, perhaps there was something to be said for her scheme. He had never liked the idea of his daughter being forced to throw herself away on some young puppy with neither money nor influence to recommend him. If he could somehow restore her good name without saddling her with a husband, at least not on a permanent basis, then something still might be salvaged from this shambles. Say, if she were to become a widow. … Sir Thomas smiled inwardly. He had hit on the very solution. Cathy would be permitted to marry her pirate, and then steps would be taken to assure that the fellow was gotten out of the way. Not that he himself would ever stoop to murder, Sir Thomas thought cunningly. There would be no need. If the pirate were to be turned over to the Queen’s justice, his end would be swift and sure—and perfectly legal. And Cathy would be free to choose another husband more in keeping with her own high rank. There were only two problems that he could foresee: the polite world must not know that Cathy’s dead husband was a pirate, and Cathy herself must not be apprised of the man’s fate until her infatuation for him had run its course. But there were ways to make sure of such things.…

“What did you say, daughter?” Sir Thomas smiled at
Cathy genially. Cathy was taken aback by the constant shifts in her father’s mood, but persevered with what she was saying.

“You could arrange a pardon for Jon, Papa.”

Sir Thomas nodded slowly, his lips pursing as if he was thinking the matter over. “Yes, I suppose I could.”

“I won’t marry anyone else, Papa.” Cathy’s eyes challenged him. Sir Thomas sighed.

“And is that your last word, my dear?”

“Yes, Papa. That is my last word.”

“I see that you leave me no choice.” Sir Thomas relented grudgingly. “But mind you don’t reproach me later! This is entirely your idea, and I refuse to take any responsibility for it!”

Cathy flew up out of her chair, throwing her arms around her father and hugging him tightly.

“Oh, thank you, Papa! Thank you!”

Sir Thomas patted her back consolingly.

“That’s quite all right, my dear. You know I’m only concerned with your happiness.”

“I know, Papa. I love you for it.” The soft words, muttered into the front of his satin coat, cost Sir Thomas a momentary pang of conscience. But he stilled the pang, and continued to smooth her tumbled hair until she pushed away with a shaky laugh.

“I must look a mess.”

“You do indeed, my dear. Have you no other clothes?” Sir Thomas eyed her crumpled white dress and untidy hair somewhat severely.

“I did—but they were in Jon’s house. It got hit with a cannonball and burned. I don’t imagine there’s anything left.”

“Good God,” her father said faintly. “If I had known for sure you were on that island, I would never have let them open fire. But Colonel Hugh—he’s in charge of the soldiers that came with us—assured me that the pirates would have killed you long since, as there was no ransom demand. I thought you were dead, Cathy.”

“Oh, Papa,” Cathy said, tears filling her eyes at the thought of her father’s pain. “Jon didn’t send a ransom demand because he wanted to keep me with him. I was never in any real danger,” here she managed a glimmer of a smile, “at least, not until this morning.”

“Yes, well,” Sir Thomas turned away, clearing his throat. “I believe Martha packed some of your clothes in with my things in case you should need them. I’ll have someone bring them in to you. I think that I had best make the arrangements for the marriage today, if that suits you. Under the circumstances, the sooner, the better.”

“Anything you say, Papa.” Cathy smiled at him lovingly, then impulsively ran across to press a kiss to his ruddy cheek. Sir Thomas hugged her to him lightly, then let her go. Cathy thought she saw moisture in his eyes as he turned to leave the cabin.

Left alone, Cathy wandered aimlessly around the room, too keyed up to sit still. She ran a hand over the curving backs of the elegant chairs, absentmindedly admiring their delicate beauty. After all, if one could afford it, there was nothing wrong with having the best, she thought defensively, imagining the sneer that her ideas would bring to Jon’s handsome face. She picked up a delicate Sevres vase almost defiantly. Jon would simply have to grow accustomed to a different standard of living. Indeed, he would have little choice, if her plans worked
out the way she hoped. It would be fun to teach him the modes and manners of society. She smiled, picturing her fierce pirate captain in the guise of an English gentleman. How he would scowl at first! But for her sake, and their child’s, he would adjust. She knew he would, given time.

She was conscious of a faint, uncomfortable stirring of guilt about forcing him into what she was pretty sure would be an unwelcome marriage. He had been obviously displeased about the baby. It was unlikely that he would be any happier with the news that he was to become a husband as well as a father. But better wed than dead, as she would be sure to point out to him at the first opportunity afforded her. If not for herself, and the baby, he would have been hanged.

Her father had been certain that Jon didn’t, couldn’t, love her. Well, maybe not. Maybe she didn’t even love him. But they had made a baby together, and, for the present, their own emotions were secondary. The coming child was what was important now.

A gentle tap sounded on the cabin door, and Cathy ran a self-conscious hand over her tumbling hair before bidding whoever was on the other side to come in.

“Mason!” she cried joyfully as the gentleman’s gentleman, who had been with her father for years, entered.

“My lady.” Mason beamed at her. “It’s good to see you again, my lady, if I may say so. Sir Thomas has been like a man possessed since we had word that you were captured by pirates. He thought you dead, my lady, and the thought grieved him—grieved us all.”

“I know, Mason.” Cathy smiled at the severely dressed little man. Mason was as much a part of her childhood as her father or Martha. He had always been reserved, as
befitted the personal servant of a great man, but to Cathy he was as well-known as the drawing room in their Lisbon home.

“A sailor is bringing in Sir Thomas’s trunk, my lady. If you require help in fixing your hair, or if your clothes need attention, please feel free to make use of my services. Sir Thomas tells me that you are getting married this afternoon. Allow me to offer you my best wishes for your happiness, my lady.”

“Thank you, Mason.” Cathy was touched by the prim speech. For Mason to offer his services as a lady’s maid was tantamount to herself offering to scrub floors. “I may want you to fix my hair. I’m still not very handy at doing it myself.”