Pirate's Golden Promise (46 page)

“Ja, at last you understand. Oh, Wynter I have longed for this moment. I ache for you. Come, my love.” He held out a hand to her, but she resisted.

“I won't come with you. Take me back to Lindenwyck and tell everyone you're alive. What is the meaning of this charade, all this sneaking about?” Then the thought hit her. The man with Gerta, her mysterious lover, had been Rolfe. “You've been at Lindenwyck the whole time.”

He laughed lowly. “Ja, and I must say that it's been hard to watch you and Cort cooing and billing like doves. But no more, Wynter. Never again. You're mine now.”

Forcibly he lifted her from the sleigh and carried her onto the shore. She pushed at him, but Rolfe was very strong and didn't loosen his hold on her.

“Put me down!” she ordered. “Have you gone mad? What do you hope to accomplish by taking me from Lindenwyck? Cort will find out and kill you.”

“I suspect he is in New York by now, wondering who sent the note to him. I really should have rid myself of my cousin years ago, but now is as good a time as any. When he comes in search for you, I shall be ready and shall strike before he is aware of his fate. You see, Wynter, I love you and want you as my wife. Together we shall rule Lindenwyck, my kingdom on the North River.”

With his foot, he pushed open the door to the wooden building. A candle had already been lit, and Rolfe gently set her on a small cot.

He smiled warmly at her. “I used this as a fishing shack when I was a boy. It served me well when I wished to get away from my parents and Cort. I doubt that he even remembers it is here. He was always doing the tasks I neglected.” Rolfe laughed. “Even then I made certain he wouldn't interfere in my life.”

“You can't keep me a prisoner here forever, Rolfe. I will return to Lindenwyck.”

In the light Wynter saw him nod, and an amber flame glowed in the depths of his eyes. “I intend you to return there, but I will be with you. After we're married, we'll never be parted again. You shall not utter a word about Cort again but will forget he ever existed. I am very powerful at Lindenwyck,” he warned. “No one crosses me.

“I killed Katrina, you know. Years ago I killed one of her lovers, so have no qualms that I will rid you of your sister or even your child if you do not bow to my wishes.” His hand snaked out and stroked a wayward curl that rested on her cheek. “I love you, Wynter. For the last months, I've watched you while you slept. Once I left a rose for you. But you had no idea I was near, which was just was well.”

She believed that in Rolfe's demented way, he did love her. But she would have to escape him. Almost as if he read her thoughts, he took lengths of rope and tied her hands and feet, then placed a wad of kerchief in her mouth. “Just to make certain you don't escape, my lovely.”

He left, and outside the door, she heard a bar being dropped into place. There was no escape, not even a window. What was she to do? Dear God, how would she save herself now?

Cort returned to Lindenwyck, baffled and angry to have traveled the distance to New York only to be told by the governor that he hadn't requested his presence. In fact, as far as Governor Nicholls knew, no one was interested in purchasing the
Sea Bride.
Who sent the message? Cort wondered. But by the time he saw Lindenwyck, standing aloof above the river, his anger had abated. He wished now only to get some rest and to hold Wynter in his arms. He'd been away only a day and he missed her terribly.

He'd scarcely gotten out of the ice boat when Lena rushed from the house to meet him with a thin shawl thrown hurriedly across her shoulders.

Quickly she told him that Wynter had gone to Lucy's the day before and hadn't returned. “Please go after her, Cort,” Lena begged. “I am frightened.”

Knowing that it was unlike Lena to be so upset, he went to the stables and saddled a horse. “Have you seen my wife?” he asked Fredrik. Fredrik said no, and Cort rode to Lucy's and Dirk's house.

“Where can she be?” Lucy asked, worry on her face. “I never sent for Wynter. I have not been ill.”

Cort and Dirk exchanged alarmed looks, and they left the farmhouse together to search for Wynter.

“Perhaps she has returned to the house by now,” Cort said, hoping against hope that she'd been there after their search of the nearby grounds and farms turned up nothing. But Lena told them she still hadn't heard from Wynter. By now, Cort was truly upset and began to fear that Wynter had been abducted.

The servants were called into the sitting room and questioned. Had anyone seen anything out of the ordinary, a stranger lurking about the grounds?

The serving woman who was new to Lindenwyck spoke up. “There was something about the man who gave me the governor's message for you and the man who came to the house with news of Vrouw Breden's illness. They sounded the same, but the second man had his face covered.”

“What did the messenger from the governor look like?” Cort asked.

“A little like you, sir, but his eyes were brown and his hair not as blond as yours.”

Cort fairly groaned. “That could describe almost anyone around here.”

A huge sob tore from Gerta who stood near the doorway. Cort glanced in her direction to see her shaking her head in dismay. “Forgive me, I know who the man was who kidnapped your wife. It was Rolfe. I nursed him back to health after the boat accident. He begged me not to tell anyone he was alive, that he had to even the score with his wife, Katrina. I think he killed her, and now intends to have his way with Vrouw Wynter. He is obsessed by her.”

Cort was stunned, and Lena sat down on the sofa, visibly weak and in shock. No one noticed that Fredrik quietly disappeared from the room with a look of murderous rage on his face.

“Do you know where he might have taken her, Gerta?” Cort asked and made a move to leave the room.

Gerta shook her head. “Rolfe is very crafty, and I fear for you as well as your wife.”

The thought of danger to himself hadn't entered Cort's mind. He must find Wynter and free her from Rolfe, who was a demented and sly foe.

When Cort left the house in search of Wynter, Rolfe, who had been waiting stealthily in the woods, began to stalk him. To Rolfe's delight, Cort parted with Dirk and the others who had volunteered to search for Wynter. Soon the sun would set and then Cort would be entirely at Rolfe's mercy. Perhaps the others would give up the search for the night, but Rolfe guessed that Cort wouldn't stop looking for Wynter. Well, my cousin, Rolfe thought, you shall not find her. Instead you will find the dreamless sleep of death.

A large knife was hidden in Rolfe's boot, ready to find its mark in Cort's back. He had only to wait.

As Rolfe expected, the search party disbanded at dark, but Cort continued onward. Rolfe watched as his cousin plunged deeper into the forest on foot, hitting at weeds and vines with an ax. Sometimes he called Wynter's name, at others, he cursed. Rolfe suppressed his laughter. Cort was such easy prey.

But Rolfe was unaware that, a distance away, Fredrik too traveled through the dark woods, with the four vicious canines. Fredrik had given them an old kerchief of Rolfe's which he had found in Gerta's house. The dogs were on the trail of Rolfe's scent, their teeth bared and ready to find their mark. A fitting demise, Fredrik decided, for the man who had killed his beautiful Katrina.

The moon shed its silvery brightness over Cort
who
moved from the confines of the trees to stand on the shore of the frozen river. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he knew that Rolfe watched him from a thicket nearby. He had known that Rolfe stalked him all the way from the house. Cort pretended he didn't see him, but he could almost smell the evil that reeked from his cousin.

Cort turned and faced the spot from where Rolfe watched him. “Come out, Rolfe! Or are you not man enough to face me directly?”

To Cort's surprise, Rolfe stepped forward from the shadows. The moon shone upon him, and Cort could see Rolfe's teeth shining. “I am not a coward, Cort.”

“A coward kidnaps a defenseless woman and then hides her away. Where is my wife?”

“Somewhere you'll never find her. But don't worry about her, for you won't see her again. Soon, Wynter will be a widow.”

“Don't count on that, Rolfe. I intend to kill you.”

A malevolent gleam glowed in Rolfe's eyes and he advanced towards Cort with the knife in his hand. Cort held onto his ax, and when Rolfe lifted the knife, Cort blocked his arm with the wooden handle of the ax. Again, Rolfe lunged at him, but Cort sidestepped him. Rolfe fell but quickly recovered himself and stood up.

They found themselves on the ice, slipping and falling, but neither made a move to seek the grassy bank of the river. Rolfe swung at Cort, and this time the blade of his knife nicked Cort's cheek. A thin line of blood trickled down Cort's face to fall upon the front of his jacket.

“Ah, my cousin,” Rolfe crowed. “You are an easy mark.”

Rolfe's cockiness maddened Cort. Lunging forward, he swung the ax and it struck Rolfe's upper arm. The blade skimmed through the material of his coat and deeply cut into flesh. Rolfe clutched at his arm, dropping his knife, and fell to the ice. “Go ahead and kill me,” he told Cort.

“Tell me where Wynter is first.”

“Never. I may die but she'll never belong to you.”

“Vicious cur!” Cort kicked at Rolfe and would have done more had not the night stillness been broken by the barking of the dogs as they skidded across the ice.

Rolfe smirked. “The dogs obey me, Cort. Your end is near.”

Rolfe yelled a command of attack in Dutch, expecting the dogs to attack Cort. But Fredrik was the one the dogs obeyed, and Rolfe was the one they sought. Cort, seeing the situation for what it was and noticing the blood lust on Fredrik's face, attempted to pull Rolfe from the ice to the bank. Rolfe, however, refused to budge and ordered the dogs to attack Cort, but Fredrik shouted the command again. Cort skidded across the ice to seek the safety of the shore. Rolfe's laughter turned to cries of agony when he rose to flee the pouncing dogs but was pulled down by them. Within minutes, Rolfe lay dead, and Fredrik had his revenge.

But Cort still didn't have Wynter. He vowed he wouldn't give up his search until he found her.

The sputtering candle had long since died out. The small room was in total darkness, and Wynter's arms and legs felt numb. She was unbelievably cold and wondered if she'd freeze to death. Would there be pain in dying of exposure? She hoped not. Tears burned her eyes. Imminent death didn't bring the fear she had expected, but she hated to leave Cort and Lyntje.

Would Rolfe return before she died? She wondered why he hadn't come for her before now. Something must have happened. The thought crossed her mind that he might be dead, but if he were, then she'd die also. No one would find her here. She was too far from the house, and this had been Rolfe's favorite childhood place, not Cort's.

She drifted into sleep and woke with a start to hear the bar being lifted on the door. Wynter cringed and shook from cold and fear. God, Rolfe had returned! What would happen to her now?

The door opened and daylight streamed into the room. Fear shone on her face, but then an overwhelming sense of relief, then tears of happiness, to see Cort. In two steps he bounded into the room and held her in his arms.

“I never thought I'd see you again!” she cried when he took the kerchief out of her mouth.

“My love, my sweet,” he crooned and undid the ropes on her feet and hands. “You're safe now. Rolfe is dead. We can go home.”

“How did you find me?” she asked wonderingly.

Cort held her tightly against him and wiped her tears from her face. “I remembered that Rolfe had a favorite childhood haunt, a place he took me to once, then taunted me that he always managed to escape his chores and come to this isolated place while I worked. This was my final hope, and thank God, I found you.”

“Oh, Cort, is it really over?” She clung to him, fearful to let him go.

“Yes, my love, it's over. Let's return to Lindenwyck.”

“Yes, Cort, home. Let's go home.”

Wynter lay in Cort's arms, totally and completely satiated after lovemaking. Her long, dark hair streamed onto his arm, and when she turned her face to his, he gently stroked her cheek. His fingers came to rest on her lips which he traced with an index finger.

“I think, little one, that you're an insatiable wench. We haven't left this room in over a week. Don't you think Lyntje needs her mother?”

Wynter grinned. “Lyntje is staying with her Aunt Lucy and Uncle Dirk. She's well taken care of and quite pampered, too, I'd guess. Dirk dotes upon her. Mikel and Lena left for New York three days ago to visit friends. But you've been too preoccupied to notice.” Her hands traced the muscular contours of his bronzed chest. “And if I'm insatiable, Cort, you've made me this way. So, you have to learn to live with me.”

A pensive smile crossed his face. After a few silent moments, he said, “If you had your life to live over again, if you could have freely chosen whether to be taken captive on the
Sea Bride
or not, would you have come with me?”

“That's an odd sort of question,” Wynter commented. “It's rather late now to even ask it.”

“But what would you have chosen?”

For a moment, Wynter wanted to spar with him, to let him wonder at her answer. But she saw that the answer meant a great deal to him. “I'd have willingly thrown myself into your arms, Captain Van Linden, if I had but known the ecstasy I'd find in them.”

The morning sun softly filtered into the room, bathing them in the golden glow of love. Cort tilted her face to his and kissed her. “From this moment on, Wynter Van Linden, you've freely made your choice. And from this second to the end of time, I promise that I shall love you, and trust you, and care for you. Once I make a promise, I never break it.”