Till Dawn Tames the Night (48 page)

"I don't think he'll like that, Flossie."

"Pooh! Then I'll fight him tooth and nail! He's got to leave you alone! Or marry you!"

"You can't make a man like Vashon do something he doesn't want to do," Aurora said. "And you can't stop him from taking what he thinks he must have. I know that all too well."

"Well, I shall stop him.
That villain."

A deep booming laugh suddenly came from the doorway. Both women whipped around to find Vashon standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Immediately Flossie stepped in front of Aurora and confronted him.

"How dare you enter my cabin unannounced!" she exclaimed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long enough. Obviously," he answered with a smirk.

"Well, you've heard enough to know what I think of your behavior toward this girl. You blackguard!"

"You act as if I beat her into submission, Flossie."

"She was unschooled in the ways of the world and you took advantage of that."

He looked straight at Aurora, his gaze lingering at her bare neck. "Is that what you think?"

Furious, Aurora refused to answer him. Her emotions were all tied in knots; she was still angry from their tussle this morning, still frightened from their close brush with Peterborough, worn out from worrying about him when he went after
Koonga
. But she certainly wasn't about to let him bed her while he sailed to Bermuda, then
leave
her there without a fare-thee-well.

"She was seduced," Flossie chimed in
in
her stead.

"Was she, or was I?" he asked, staring ominously at Aurora.

She met his gaze,
then
in defiance looked away.

Impatient, he said, "Come along, wren, I have to talk to you. We've got to go to my cabin."

"She's not going anywhere with you. She's staying right here in my cabin. If you must speak to her, Vashon, you'll do so with me as chaperon."

Vashon looked at the widow as if she were out of her mind.

"I meant what I said, Vashon, I'll fight tooth and nail." Flossie put her hands on her hips.

"Madam, I hate to disappoint you, but you haven't the strength to stop me." He looked almost amused.

"I'll fight for what's right," Flossie added, moving back toward Aurora and shielding her with her large form.

"What's right," Vashon said, turning a bit more
menacing,
"is that Aurora and I have time together. And no one"—he moved forward—"shall deprive me of that." He looked down at the widow. "Shall I pick you up,
madam,
or will you step aside of your own volition?"

Flossie blanched. "Vashon," she sputtered, "you have no chivalry whatsoever."

"None," he confirmed. He raised one eyebrow as if inviting her to step aside one last time. When Flossie stood her ground, he reached for her. Flossie's eyes nearly popped from their sockets when he lifted her up by the armpits and placed her back on her feet several paces away.

When the widow was out of the way, Vashon reached to take Aurora's hand, but she pulled back.

"Flossie's not the only one who doesn't want me to go, Vashon." She gave him a daring look, and stepped away.

"Brava, Aurora!" Flossie exclaimed from the corner.

Vashon tipped his head back and studied her through half-closed lids. "You're coming with me, Aurora. You will reside in my cabin until we reach St. George's. And that is the final word. Now, you may walk out of this cabin or I can carry you. Which will it be?"

"I despise your company. I won't go willingly," she taunted.

"So be it." He reached for her and Flossie cried out in shock. Aurora kicked and scratched, but, like the pirate he was, he easily threw her over his shoulder and carried her off, not even bothering to shut the door in his wake.

When he set her down in his cabin, the silence was thunderous. She was so furious she refused to speak. Placing her arms over her chest, she stared at him as if he were anathema.

"Sit down," he told her. She didn't comply, so he pushed her back and she fell onto the dolphin-legged couch.

"Is this where you make me walk the plank,
El
Draque
!"

"No, this is where I ask you where your locket is."

The lines on his face deepened and she saw he looked worried. Her hand flew to her neck. When she felt nothing, she suddenly remembered where it was. "I—I left it on the bed. That was the last time I saw it. . . ." A terrible notion occurred to her. "Peterborough, will he find it?"

Vashon didn't answer. He looked at his desk and said, "I blame myself. I should have thought to go back for it. I'm not one to overlook such things. I fear I must be getting sloppy."

She watched him go to his desk and take out his maps. A frown furrowed his brow.

"Could he decipher the rhyme?" she asked, softly going to him.

"Without your help, I doubt it." Vashon stared down at the map. The continents were massive. The Star could be on any one of them. Aurora had never seen such an impossible task.

"Let's go through what we know." Vashon nodded to the couch. She sat again and looked at him.

"We can give this up, Vashon," she said. "We can go anywhere where Peterborough can't find us and—"

"Tell me what you know about Michael
Dayne
again." Vashon didn't even remove his gaze from the map.

Depressed, she ran through the clues again.
And again.
Until the wee hours of the morning.

"I think we lived on the West End. My father was born on St. Mary's. I remember once standing outside Carlton House. I remember the ladies' satin gowns. I remember my father admiring their beautiful jewels. I remember him teaching me the rhyme. . . ."

Aurora opened her eyes and saw Vashon still studying his maps. She looked out the aft ports and saw it was almost dawn. She didn't know how long she'd slept, but certainly it was longer than Vashon had.

"You won't find it like that."

He looked up and stared at her. "Like what?" he asked.

"Without eating.
Without sleeping.
You won't be able to go on."

He looked back at his maps. "I will find it," he vowed.

She stretched and rose from the black-draped bed. "If anyone can, you will. But come, I see Benny left us some coffee. Take some and I'll go
fetch
you some dinner from the galley."

"Why are you so suddenly solicitous?"

She smirked.
"Because you look terrible."
She smiled at his disgruntled look and poured him a cup from the coffeepot on the drum table.

She took it to him and was just about to leave for the galley when his arm wrapped around her waist. He pulled her against him and said, "Don't go. I'm not hungry."

"You must be," she exclaimed.

"Not for food." He stood and took her hand. She dug in her heels when she saw he was leading her to the bed.

"Only you could do that with your last strength, Vashon."

"What better way to expend it?"

"No," she whispered.

He ignored her and untied his trousers.

"I said 'No.'
Are
you losing your hearing?"

He took her as if she'd never spoken. He kissed her and his tongue drew a ferocious response, but when they parted, she was all too anxious to hide it.

"He may kill me." He spoke as if they were a room apart, not in each other's embrace.

She composed herself and looked up at him. "You finally care whether you live or die?"

"Now that I have something to live for."
He stared at her and it took her breath away. He looked at her as if she were the most precious of all jewels.

"Vashon," she whispered, "don't put yourself in jeopardy. Let's run from Peterborough, let's escape—"

His mouth cut off the rest of her plea. It was useless to try and change his mind. She knew that. But she knew too that she couldn't bear losing him.

She meant to plead with him again, yet one kiss led to another. Soon her dress fell to the floor and for a bitterly short time they did escape.
To that place right between heaven and earth.

. . .
so
that in love and sleep we may

learn
to trust one another.

—Homer:
Odyssey

Lizzy
Lizard sat and smiled

And stared across the sea

"I know the way

But cannot tell

So silly, silly me!"

They sailed north. Aurora spent the afternoons with Flossie and the nights with Vashon. He hardly slept except in the small hours of the morning when he'd spent himself on her, finally falling into a brief, fitful sleep. As the week slipped into another, she watched him drive himself harder and harder searching his maps for the Star. He couldn't last, but somehow, he endured, madly studying his maps until she could hardly bear to watch.

It was now nearing the third week. Later that evening —much later—Aurora watched Vashon rise from the bed, slip on his white trousers, and go again to his desk. She sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest, letting her hair cascade to her hip. She watched him, thinking St. George's was but a few days away, knowing it would be impossible to leave him. She lifted her hand and touched a tender place on her neck. She closed her eyes and remembered his teeth dragging against her skin in a rare moment of surrender. He didn't surrender easily, and that had made his release that much sweeter for her. She couldn't believe that in a few days they would part, maybe never to see each other again. As she watched him, staring down at the maps on his desk, she was eaten away with doubt.
Especially now when he was so weary, and so angry, and pushing himself so hard.

"Shall I have Benny bring some dinner?" she asked quietly, interrupting his study.

"All right."
In disgust, he pushed back and went to his bookcases. He poured himself a stiff brandy,
then
went to the open aft ports. A good breeze kicked up the swells, and the ship was cutting through the water at an amazing pace. That depressed her more than anything.

"It's there somewhere," he stated bleakly as if to reassure himself.

"It must be," she answered, stilling her trembling lips with her fingers. She didn't know how she would survive losing him.

"Perhaps if he gets it first, you'll finally be safe."

"Don't even think that."

He dropped his head. For the first time, she wondered if she saw him defeated.

"Vashon, let's abandon the Star."

He turned around and the wild glint in his eye frightened her. "I'll never relinquish it! What he did to me—"

"He did monstrous things," she whispered.

"You think rape is reserved only for women?"

"I know," she said, biting back a sob. "But you fought back. First with those men Josiah paid to kill you all those years ago, then in the
Casbah
after they sold you.

You saved yourself then, so save yourself now. Peterborough won't win if you forfeit."

He turned back to the ports. The wind blew back his black locks. He looked terribly handsome in that pose: arms across his
chest,
feet splayed commandingly apart. But it wasn't his handsomeness that drew her to him. Nor was it his forlorn figure. Rather it was what had first made her run from him. His fierceness, perhaps even the dragon itself, lured her inescapably to his side. And she understood now that it was destined to be.
Because without the dragon in him, he'd never have survived for her to love.
And she did love
him,
with an ache so deep it brought tears to her eyes.

"Vashon," she whispered, "I'd do anything to keep you. Just tell me what I need to do, because I'm losing you, and if I do—" Her voice broke and it was all she could do not to throw herself at his feet and beg him to stop this wretched course they were on.