Till Dawn Tames the Night (49 page)

"Ask Benny to bring us some dinner," he said, ignoring her outburst.

Staring at his cold figure, she said bitterly, "Of course. How silly of me. I'll go right away."

He nodded. She made to leave the bed, but suddenly he stopped and turned again. "What did you say?"

"I said I'll go right away."

"No, before that."

She stiffened. How needlessly cruel he was to flail her with her indiscreet outburst. "I said, how silly of me," she repeated softly, refusing to look at him.

His eyes opened wide.
" 'So
silly, silly me,' " he mumbled and strode to his desk littered with maps. He shoved aside all the others except the one of the British Isles. "Where did you say your father was born?"

"Hugh Town."

"St. Mary's?"

"Yes," she answered, wrapping the sheet around her and walking over to the desk.

"St. Mary's, the Isles of
Scilly
, right?"

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes growing wide. The lines of the rhyme seemed to ring in her head. "So silly,
Scilly
me," she repeated in disbelief.

"Jesus. That's it. How stupid I've been."

She looked down at the map of Britain. Vashon put his finger on Land's End right at the southwest tip of England. He moved lower to Lizard Point.
When he then moved his finger due west it hit St. Mary's in the Isles of
Scilly
.
And just before Hugh Town on the eastern side of the isle was the promontory of St. Michael's Bluff.

"My God, my father's name," she gasped in shock. She looked at Vashon. "Did he leave it there, then? Oh, my soul, do you think he could still be there? Could it be possible that I might find him?"

He pulled her away from the map. "He must be dead, Aurora. Don't hope for a miracle. He would have come for you."

"But perhaps he's alive!" she cried out, irrational hope blossoming in her breast. "Perhaps he's just forgotten about me!"

He took her into his arms and quieted her. He spoke to her as if she were a child. "He's gone, Aurora. Believe me, love. He wouldn't have forgotten about you."

She started to cry. Angry and helpless, she said,

"Don't go to St. George's. Go to St. Mary's instead, and take me with you! I must see for myself that he's dead!"

He looked decisive. He wasn't going to let her go.

"You cannot afford to go to Bermuda now! You don't have time to take me and Flossie there," she begged. "If you go directly to St. Mary's, you'll have the Star before Peterborough even figures it out!"

His reluctance was almost palpable.

"You must!" She grabbed him. Her eyes welled with fresh tears. "Let me see for myself that my father's dead! If you don't, nothing will stop me from following you! I'll go there if I have to swim!"

"He's dead, Aurora. Your father is dead."

"Until I see his grave, I'll believe otherwise."

He didn't say a word.

"I must find him, can't you understand that?" she said.

"I don't want to see your heart broken."

Then don
't
make me leave you,
she wanted to cry out. Instead she looked at him, her eyes full of hurt.

"You won't find him," he said.

"But I must try."

"Then I'll take you," he said stiffly, looking as if he were completely against the idea. "We won't go to Bermuda."

She almost fell to her knees in thanks. Clutching him to her, she placed a kiss on his hard lips and almost danced around the room in her happiness. The thought of finding her father lent a joyous sparkle to her eye and an excited flush to her cheeks. With the sheet wrapped seductively around her, she seemed almost too tempting to resist. All at once, he touched her face,
then
kissed her so deeply and longingly, she was astonished by his passion. She grew still and lost herself in the persuasion of his lips. The sheet slipped between them until they left it behind, a silky white heap on the floor.

"
Fontien
says the
Seabravery'^
changing course. His ships that have spied it reported last night that they bypassed Bermuda and are now heading toward England, Land's End to be exact," Asher informed Peterborough while both men stood at the prow.

"He must have figured out where the Star is.
I
thought they were headed to Bermuda, but now,
I
don't know where they're going." Peterborough took out the dragon locket and stared at it in frustration.

"You couldn't decipher the rhyme, could you?" There was definitely a dark note of satisfaction in Asher's voice.

"I could with help from
Dayne's
daughter." The viscount looked ahead to the horizon where somewhere the
Seabravery
raced ahead of them. "But if I don't figure it out before Vashon's ship next makes port, I'll just have to make sure I get Aurora
Dayne
to help me." With that, he snatched the dangling locket back into his palm and walked away, leaving Asher frowning behind him.

In less than three weeks they pulled into the misty harbor at Hugh Town. Aurora couldn't wait to disembark. The primeval grandeur of St. Mary's beckoned her as much as the stiff, salty wind that blew in from the "roads." She looked over the Strand to the ancient coastline strewn with druid mazes and Celtic burial grounds. She paced the decks and a shiver ran down her spine. He was out there. She knew it. And she would find him.

Vashon, on the other hand, stood on the quarterdeck, staring morosely down at Aurora while she excitedly leaned on the railing at the bow of the ship.

"Could Michael
Dayne
really be alive?" Isaac asked as he came to stand by Vashon. He looked across the ship at Aurora, then at the desolate rocks and heath-covered downs that surrounded the tiny quay. "There can't be a hundred people on this isle, Vashon. If he's still around, he won't be too hard to find."

"He's dead."

"How do you know that?"

"Look at her." Vashon nodded to Aurora. The wind chapped her cheeks a delicious
red,
and her hair hung in fetching disarray down her back. With her eyes shining with hope, she looked as beautiful as Amphitrite beckoning a sailor to steer toward the rocks. Vashon scowled. "If you had a daughter like her, would you leave her at an orphanage and never return?"

Isaac frowned. "How will you ever convince her he's gone?"

"She'll have to see for herself." Vashon rubbed his jaw. "How much time
have
we over Peterborough?"

"You know as well as I he could be here right now. We lost a lot of time heading for St. George's."

"God, I hope not." He released a deep breath. "I need to ask something of you, Isaac."

"Anything, Vashon.
You know the men of the
Leviathan
owe you. If you hadn't gone after Peterborough all these years, how many more men would be dead?"

"Then promise me, if I die, you will see Aurora returned to her former life."

Isaac looked startled. "What makes you think you might die?"

"Because . . ." He looked at Aurora on the prow and the vision seemed too much for him. He closed his eyes as if in pain.
"Because now I don't want to."

"You won't—"

"No," he interrupted, his eyes snapping open. "I'm already slipping. I've let things get in the way. That's why it's taken me so long to figure the rhyme out. And that's why I made such a grievous error in leaving that damned locket at
Dragonard
."

"We all make mistakes, Vashon."

"And some live to tell about it." He turned to Isaac. "Promise me? She's got a
fiance
back there in London. She should marry him and . . ." His voice faded as if he were having trouble finishing. After a moment, he said, ". . . and have a decent life."

"I promise, Vashon," Isaac said quietly.

"Good."

"But you're going to win. You mark my words. You're the better man. Peterborough hasn't your strength, nor
your
cunning. He'll fall. Men like him always do."

Vashon laughed cynically. He slapped Isaac on the back and changed the subject. "But you haven't told me, man, what are you going to do after this? Is that widow going to chase you to the ends of the earth, or are you finally going to take that woman in hand?"

"I'm afraid to say I already have."

Vashon appeared almost speechless. "You mean . . ."

Isaac came as near as a sea captain could come to blushing. "Well, you know I was never one to go
wenching
after I lost Rachel."

"So what happened?"

"When I finally got the old girl quiet, I realized she weren't that bad."

Vashon tipped his head back and laughed. The sound was so provocative Aurora must have heard it on the prow. She waved and Vashon captured her gaze. He acknowledged her with a smile,
then
turned melancholy once more.

Isaac nodded his head toward Aurora. "You could use a woman too, Vashon. It'd do you good."

"Yes." Vashon pushed back from the railing. "But then when have I ever done things that were good for me?" He grinned and said, "Are we ready?"

"As we'll ever be."

Vashon looked to the distant granite-strewn head called St. Michael's Bluff. "Then let's get the Star."

St. Michael's Bluff was a steep overlook that faced a bare rocky coast. The wind had been cruel, and even the heath had left its scrubbed woody stumps to face the sea and sent its spiky pink flowers leeward as if craving mercy from the elements. The only inhabitants were several dwarfed sheep that fed on the algae and fescues of the downs, and the gulls that screamed above, only increasing the tension of the men who made their way to the peak, cautious of the terrible fall that led to the beach and the great boulders scattered there.

They searched, but nothing caught their eye. There should have been a marker, a cairn, a pile of stones to direct them, but there was nothing, merely the
windbeaten
scurvy grass that clung tenaciously to the steep edge of the bluff, and a long fall to the beach.

But all at once excitement rose in the group. A man pointed to a large rock protruding from the bluff. A weathered tin box lay snug between it and the cliff, camouflaged by the salt-corroded surface of the granite. Two men braved the descent, and soon they were hanging on the incline, reaching desperately for the box. The cheap tin chest was eventually removed and sent, man to man, up the incline to the imposing figure
who
waited at the top.

The man put his hands on the coffer and they shook with emotion. At last! He broke the tiny lock and dumped the chest's contents into his palms. There was nothing but a note. On it was written:

Only my daughter will find it.

       
—Michael Seamus
Dayne

Peterborough crumpled the note in his hand. The men on the incline stared at him as he stood atop the bluff. He made no attempt at all to hide his anger. He raised his fist and screamed out his fury.

"Please, take me with you, Vashon. I just want to ask about my father. If the jewel's been on the bluff all these years, what's another few hours?" Aurora clung to his arm as he was about to disembark the
Seabravery
with several of his men.

"When I know it's safe, I'll take you there. Until then, you have to wait."

Frustrated with his answer, she glanced longingly at the quay, toward the only tavern in Hugh Town, the Standing Stone.

Vashon followed her gaze,
then
shook his head. "You think to go in there and ask for a man probably not seen in fifteen years?"

"Vashon, I beg of you, I want so much to find him. If you only knew how much . . ." She looked desperately toward the tavern again.

He took her arms and forced her gaze to his. "I know how much, my love. I can see it on your face." He turned grim. "But I don't intend to spend any more time here than I have to. Peterborough could be on the island even as we speak. The
Merry Magdalene
could be anchored in The-Road and they could have come ashore anywhere. Until I have the Star, it's not prudent to go searching for Michael
Dayne
."

"I understand that. But what if you don't find the Star? I must look for him!"

He caressed her cheek. "If the Star's on that bluff, I'll find it. And then, I promise, we'll look for your father."

Her expression faltered. "But Vashon, I still fear for you. If Peterborough's on the island, you mustn't waste time here. Let me look for him while you search for the emerald."

"When I find the Star, we'll look." He placed a tender kiss on her lips,
then
with his chosen seamen he left for the bluff.

In silence she watched him go, her heart torn with the need to protect him and to find her father.