Till Dawn Tames the Night (25 page)

"Yes," Aurora answered, catching her breath after she and Flossie parted. "But I'm otherwise all right. You mustn't worry about me. It's you I've been concerned about."

"Oh, my dear child!
You must not give me another thought. It's as if the voyage is merely continuing. I've had every comfort.
Except for the fact that I've been locked in my cabin."
With that, she shot Isaac a bitter, hurtful glance. The captain didn't even look up from the binnacle.

"But you, love"—she turned back to Aurora, worry flooding her bright blue eyes—"you look a sight. I do hope that wretched Vashon hasn't behaved in . . . well . . . in an untoward fashion."

Aurora almost laughed. "Untoward" was hardly the way Vashon behaved.
Especially when he was ripping the clothes off her back.
Nonetheless, she reassured the widow. "Vashon and I have clashed, I'll admit. But he's done no permanent damage."

"Thank heavens. I've been worried sick. I've even had to take some of Jane's smelling salts. It's a good thing we left that vexing little maid of mine behind on St. George's. The girl is forever feeling faint and this trip would have killed her."

Aurora smiled and took the widow's hand. It was trembling, so she squeezed it. Flossie had a great deal of fortitude, but she was no young woman and the ordeal was obviously affecting her. Right then and there Aurora promised herself that she would do all within her power to return her to St. George's.

"You mustn't worry, Flossie," she said softly. "Think of this as an adventure. And in no time I just know you'll be
back
home telling all your wonderful friends about your stay on a pirate ship."

The widow adamantly shook her head. "This would be quite an adventure, but only if you weren't in so much trouble. After all, I'm an old woman. What could they do to me? But you, Aurora, there's a whole manner of things from which you need protection. And because I'm frantic over that, this is no adventure at all."

"No, no! I can take care of myself. I've given Vashon back what he's given me.
In duplicate!"
She was exaggerating. She was standing in front of the widow with no undergarments to speak of, and no shoes. But she couldn't stand to see that frightened look in Flossie's eyes.
Especially when it was for herself.

Flossie suddenly gave her a secret smile. She peeked at the captain to see if he was looking,
then
whispered, "Oh, but you did put up a brave front when he had you tied to that bedpost! And to make up that story about your fiancé! I wanted to applaud. You were brilliant.
The very picture of myself at your age, if I do say."

Aurora smiled wryly. She could have had a fiancé coming for them. Flossie couldn't know how close the story had been to the truth. But after all that had happened at the Home before she'd left, John would most certainly never follow her. He was too hurt and too angry and too selfish.

"But unfortunately it was a piece of fiction, and we must develop some kind of plan to escape." Aurora drew closer. "I've been thinking, Flossie. We've almost a week to come up with a plan, and I believe when we make port in San Juan, I should—"

A cough sounded behind them. Both women looked up to find the captain at their side, an irritated expression on his face. Aurora doubted he'd had time to hear any of their conversation, but he'd definitely heard enough to put an end to their whispers.

"It's time for the widow to return to her cabin." He put a hand on Flossie's elbow in order to escort her back.

"Captain, this isn't necessary," Aurora began. "What harm is there in our having some fresh air and conversation?"

"It's upon my orders, Aurora. I'll not have you two whispering like thieves."

Aurora jerked her head around and found Vashon standing next to her. His presence was overpowering. Now that they had reached warmer waters, he wore only his boots, a pair of light chamois breeches, and a leather buccaneer vest that crossed over his bare torso. In the bright sun his hair gleamed almost as brilliantly as his earring. His eyes glittered
more green
than the ocean around them.

His presence brought back her dream with stunning clarity, and before she could stop herself she felt her face growing flushed. She ripped her gaze away from him, but this only made her
more angry
. With an icy tone in her voice she said, "It's Miss Dayne to you, sir. And I don't believe we're the ones who should be likened to thieves."

He gave her a wry smile. He nodded to Isaac. The captain tightened his grip on Flossie's arm.

"Wait!" Aurora pleaded with the captain. "What harm is there in our visiting?"

"There's no harm at all, wren," Vashon answered. "But rule number three on this ship states that prisoners shall not whisper among themselves, and if caught doing so, they shall be separated immediately."

"What?" Aurora spun around to challenge him, but by then Flossie was already being dragged away by Isaac. As the two disappeared down the companionway, Aurora nearly cursed. "Your rules," she blurted out, "can go to the devil."

He laughed. "But they already have, Miss Dayne. Or haven't you noticed?"

She shot him a disparaging look,
then
walked to the railing. She had hoped he would leave her in peace but she had no such luck.

"In three days we'll make port in Grand
Talimen
."

He joined her at the rail. She could feel his eyes on her even though she kept her gaze steadfast on the turquoise horizon. "I thought we were to anchor in San Juan," she said.

"A change in itinerary.
One of our water caskets has sprung a leak. I don't want to risk going that far."

A slight furrow appeared on her brow. "Then shall we make port later in San Juan, or shall we go directly to this Satan's paradise of yours?"

He tipped his head back and laughed. Before she could stop him, his hand, warm yet rough, fondly patted her cheek. "How astute you are."

Unnerved by his touch, she stepped away. His caress brought to the boil all the feelings in her dream, feelings she knew were best left simmering in her unconscious. Again reminded of her wanton response the night before, she felt her composure falter. But she quickly gathered herself because she had a whole new set of worries now.

When they docked at San Juan, her plan was somehow to steal off the ship and bring help to Flossie. But San Juan was days away, giving her time to think of an escape and to coordinate her plans. Now that they were to make port at Grand
Talimen
, only three days away, she wondered if she could do anything in that amount of time.

In frustration she tapped her fingers on the ship's rail. The expression on her face must have mirrored her thoughts because, uninvited, Vashon said, "Thinking of an escape, my love?"

Her gaze shot to his. Her blush gave her away. Angry, she snatched her hand from the rail and started to quit the deck, but before she could get to the companionway his words made her delay.

"You haven't begged my permission to leave, Miss Dayne."

Furious, her entire figure stiffened. With just one glance she defied him to stop her.

"Miss Dayne, I'll have you know that rule number two of this ship is that all prisoners shall obey me. If you leave this deck without my permission, you have my promise of punishment, and you'll not see the widow again until we get to Mirage."

This threat gave her pause. She needed Flossie's help in thinking of a way for her to escape once on Grand
Talimen
. She couldn't afford to isolate herself now, not with three days to port.

Setting her jaw, she walked past him to the aft section of the quarterdeck. If she couldn't leave, she most certainly could pretend he wasn't around. But with his great height and handsome face, he was a difficult man to make invisible. She did her best, however, until she felt his arm sweep around her waist.

"Aurora?" he whispered against her hair.

Her eyes darkened. "What is it, you licentious tyrant?"

Her words made him smile. "Do you want me to tell you rule number one?"

She looked up at him. She didn't really want to know his despicable rules, but since she was under his domination until they arrived in Grand
Talimen
, it was inevitable she would learn them. Resentfully she nodded her head.

"Rule number one," he said in a husky voice, "is all ship's spoils belong to me . . . and to me alone."

He lifted her hair and as if his lips were a brand, she felt him place one fiery kiss upon her nape. Her hair was still damp from its washing, and he seemed particularly entranced by the way the delicate curls clung to her hairline. She closed her eyes, unable to bear what he was doing. His kiss only reminded her again of that wretched dream, and she trembled just from the thought of the power he had over her.

It seemed like an eternity, but finally he dropped the shiny, springy red-gold tangle of her hair and let her move from his hold. Desperate to leave, she looked up at him with pleading aqua eyes. Reluctantly he nodded his permission and she flew down the companionway as if she had wings. Suddenly Grand
Talimen
wasn't coming soon enough.

Grand
Talimen
Island was a seemingly benign little cay east of the Bahamas. Gone were the rocky coasts and Bermuda cedar of St. George's; in its place were luxurious fringes of white sand beaches and mile upon mile of swaying coconut palms.

At the north end, on the island's only promontory, sat the tiny town of New Providence, harbor to numerous ships going and coming from the
Mayaguana
Passage. Aurora watched from the high railing as the town grew in detail. Pastel pink-and-yellow buildings simmered beneath the hot sunshine, and whitewashed stone walls ran like a maze, effectively separating the courtyards of the wealthy from the hovels of the poor. The town radiated out from a decidedly civilized English circus, which was overlooked by elegant Spanish wrought iron balustrades and bricked French arcades, all proving how many times the island had changed hands. But if there were attempts at making New Providence appear refined, it was in stark contrast to the blooming frangipani, which sent a wild pagan scent as far as the approaching
Seabravery.

Aurora looked to the docks and saw slave women in dirty madras
tignons
carrying baskets of green breadfruit to market. Curious, the women paused as the ship made port, resting their heavy mangrove baskets on their hips. Shopkeepers in white coats and white aprons lounged in their doorways, viewing with interest New Providence's latest arrival. When the ship finally made harbor, the exotic atmosphere surrounded her, the smells mingling ripe and sweet like mangos rotting in the sun. Fiddling with a windblown lock of hair, Aurora could hardly hold back her excitement—or her trepidation—for at last they had reached land. At last she was going to have a chance of escape.

Nervously she glanced around for Flossie. Vashon had adamantly refused them the chance to visit, so Aurora hadn't seen the widow in the entire three days it took to reach port. She had thought of a plan, all right, but it was vexing that she'd been unable to share it. Now she would just have to go through with it, hoping against hope that Flossie would see what she was doing and try to help her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vashon standing on the
fo'c'sle
. Their gazes met and distrust clashed with defiance. Unwilling to taunt him further, she quickly averted her gaze, turning it instead to the crowded docks.

She didn't want him to guess that she was plotting her escape. Yet she ached with the need to be free of his clutches. She closed her eyes and thought of the past three nights spent in his cabin while he casually stripped for bed. One more night of that shocking torture and she would go mad.

"Aurora!"

She spun around and saw Flossie rushing up to her. The captain, who usually accompanied the widow on her sojourns
abovedecks
, was, oddly, nowhere to be found.

Here was her chance to tell of her plan. She just hoped there would be enough time.

Aurora calmly joined the widow, doing her best not to look anxious and stir the curiosity of the green-eyed man who still stared down at her from the
fo'c'sle
. When she grasped the widow's hands she began speaking, disregarding for the moment her good manners.

"Flossie, I have a plan," she whispered furiously. "You must help. I shall—" The captain suddenly appeared from the companionway. When he saw them together, he walked up. A hopeless, frustrated dread blossomed in her chest, and Aurora fell silent.

Flossie turned around and shot the captain a scathing look. If she'd still had her parasol, Aurora was sure she'd have popped it open with an angry snap. Instead, disgruntled, she could only saunter away, the concern in her eyes the only thing to betray her.

Aurora turned back to the railing, a black depression descending. She would have to go through with her plan and just hope Flossie figured it out. If it worked, they would be liberated. If it didn't . . . Her worried gaze swept the
fo'c'sle
and the dark thunderous man who stood there. She took a deep breath and gathered the shreds of her courage. If it didn't, they would just have to pay the consequences. But if she tried nothing, they would sail to Mirage, perhaps never to be heard from again.