Pirate's Golden Promise (6 page)

“I'm sorry for you,” Wynter said, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Pity yourself, not me!”

Debra left the room, slamming the door with a loud bang. Maddie entered then, a concerned look on her face.

“Are you all right?” she asked and stroked Wynter's hair.

Wynter grabbed her arm and clung to it, unable to speak of the fear in her heart to Maddie. Somehow, though she hadn't a clue as to when or how, Debra would destroy her marriage plans.

“Oh, Maddie, I must see Adam. I have to explain everything to him before Debra does.”

“Now, now,” Maddie soothed her and helped her into bed. She placed the covers over her and patted her cheek. “There's time enough to talk to Lord Somerset.”

Wynter shook her head. “No. Things must be settled soon. I'll visit him in the morning.”

“Do that,” Maddie said and blew out the candle, and left the room.

Though Wynter fell into a fitful sleep, it wasn't Adam she dreamed about but a blond-haired, tawny-eyed sea captain whose kisses set her body on fire.

“My God, Wynter, I had no idea!”

Adam sat across from her in the huge dining room of Somerset House. Morning sunlight spilled onto the mahogany dining table, its highly polished surface reflecting the surprise on Adam's face. Wynter looked closely at him in an attempt to see if he was dismayed by her news. She saw nothing there to indicate that his feelings had changed towards her.

“I knew there had been a parting of the ways between your parents and your grandfather, but the old man never let on what the problem might have been,” Adam continued.

Wynter looked down at the petal design on the surface of her fragile teacup. Perhaps she shouldn't have told Adam the truth. Maddie had warned her before leaving at dawn that morning that it was best not to say anything to Adam until she had had the chance to sort things out in her own mind. But she dreaded what Debra might tell him and knew she'd distort the truth about her parents. So, as her gaze drifted up towards Adam's face, she said, “Aunt Debra is determined that you and Lucy marry. Does this change things between us?”

If she had had any doubts, he dispelled them when he took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “My darling, this news changes nothing, I still want to marry you. I love you. Lucy is a drab little pigeon and as boring as a dead cat. You're the woman with whom I want to spend my life.”

“Oh, Adam,” Wynter breathed softly. “I do care for you. I really do.” And at that moment, she did. Her unease about her love for him during the past weeks vanished when he lifted her to her feet and enfolded her in his arms. The fact that he still wanted her enabled her to believe she loved him, and she knew her father would be pleased by the news that the wedding was still on.

Adam bent his head and touched her lips in a sweet kiss. Never had he been so gentle with her, so understanding of her turmoil. How can I not love him? she asked herself.

He drew away from her and noticed how her breasts strained against the lilac riding jacket. With her hair tousled from the morning ride, and her dark-fringed eyes sparkling like translucent crystal, Adam found her more desirable than ever. He remembered her reaction the night of her party and knew he must tread slowly with her. The fact that she was Sara's child didn't bother him. She was still Lord Walter McChesney's daughter and would one day be very wealthy. He knew Lucy loved him and that Debra wanted him to marry her; but he wouldn't marry Lucy, not when a beautiful, willing girl like Wynter wished to become his wife. One day he hoped to advance in the king's navy and thought that his wife's parentage might present a problem. He decided to deal with that when the time came. Even if his advancement never came to fruition, he'd still be married to a wealthy, beautiful woman, and above everything else, he needed money. His creditors were breathing down his neck right then, and he hoped he could stall them until the wedding in a month's time. If not, he felt sure Walter would see that his debts were paid.

He knew Wynter was innocent and charmed by his good looks. He sensed she'd be a skittish bride where lovemaking was concerned, so he didn't want to frighten her off at the moment. After the ceremony he'd bed her and take his pleasure in her. Even if she cried to Walter that Adam was rough with her, which he intended to be, because he liked some roughness in lovemaking and decided that Wynter would also in time, Walter would have no say in the matter. She'd still be Walter's daughter and an heiress, and because Walter coveted Somerset House, he wouldn't interfere.

With a heady sense of success filling his head, Adam grinned and gave her a merry laugh. “A few weeks and we'll be married, sweet. Don't worry about your mother and her sharp, vicious tongue. I can handle her.”

“Suppose she tells everyone the truth? Can you live with that?”

“Of course, my love,” he said, the thought of Wynter's fortune softening the embarrassment he'd feel if people learned the truth.

Happy tears filled Wynter's eyes. “I'm lucky you love me.”

As she rode home on Misty Blue an hour later, she thought she was fortunate to still have Adam's love. Her worries had been for nothing, and now she wondered how she could ever be the perfect wife to such a wonderful, understanding man. Another man might have broken off the betrothal because of the humiliating circumstances, but Adam hadn't. Surely in time she would come to crave the feel of his hands and lips, but then again the physical side of marriage might not be as important as she thought. After all, her father was still married to Debra.

When she trotted into the stables, Fletcher was waiting for her in the doorway and dashed forward to help her dismount. Usually Fletch joked with her, but she quickly noticed that his face contained a great sadness.

“Fletch, has your mother made you swallow that vile elixir again for your cough? You look terrible.”

“Wynter—” His voice cracked.

“What's wrong?” she asked, but suddenly she knew. She grabbed at his coat front. “It's Papa!”

He nodded. She twisted around to run towards the house, and Fletcher ran beside her. He grabbed her arm a second before she entered the back door. “Your father had some sort of attack this morning. My mother said he's bad off but has been calling for you.”

She stifled the urge to cry out and rushed headlong through the kitchen until she found herself outside the door of her father's room. Debra was at his side, Lucy at the foot of the bed, still dressed in her nightrail and robe, and Maddie silently straightened the bed covers. When Wynter dashed into the room, Debra moved aside for her, and she saw her father's ashen face as white as the pillows he lay upon.

Clutching his hand when she reached his side, she murmured, “Papa, I'm here.”

Slowly Walter opened his eyes. “My pet, my pretty pet,” he mumbled. “So sorry. Forgive me.”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, Papa. Everything is fine. I told Adam the truth, and he still loves me, wants to marry me.”

Debra let out an audible groan, and Lucy clutched her throat with a white hand as they exchanged glances.

Walter shook his head. “That's not it—” He grabbed at his chest and gasped for air. “Will—will—” he repeated, until a huge choking sound rent the air, and then silence. His hands slipped from Wynter's.

“Papa, no! Don't die!” Wynter cried.

“He's gone, my lady,” Maddie said and gently pushed her from the room when two house-servants appeared to care for Walter's body. “He's with his Sara and very happy now. You must believe that.”

Wynter looked dazedly at her but was aware that Debra and Lucy had departed.

“I loved him,” Wynter said. “They didn't care for him at all.” Her voice broke and tears streamed down her cheeks, as Maddie led her to her room.

“Shall I send for Lord Somerset?” Maddie asked her. “Maybe he can offer you some comfort.”

Wynter shook her head. She felt unable to speak to anyone then or to be around people, no matter how considerate.

Her heart was breaking, and she cried for her pain, and for her father's pain at never marrying her mother. Through her watery tears, she saw the image of Cort Van Linden and remembered the way he had kissed her with mind-drugging passion, how alive she had felt. And she cried anew because she doubted that she'd ever feel so alive again.

Adam held Wynter's hand throughout the burial service in the chapel and the interment. Walter's body was placed in the crypt beside the remains of Neville McChesney, and Wynter thought this would have pleased them both if they had known.

Debra shed not a tear. To Lucy's credit, she did cry a bit, but only because she felt her father had never loved her.

When the service had ended, Wynter was surprised to see Estelle Montgomery and Cort Van Linden waiting in the rear of the chapel. She hadn't expected anyone other than family members to be present and was touched when Estelle paid her respects to her first, rather than to Debra.

“I know he loved you a great deal, Lady Wynter. My sympathies are with you.”

“Thank you, Lady Montgomery,” Wynter said.

Estelle spoke to Adam. “Congratulations on your betrothal. Take special care of Lady Wynter, as I know you will.”

Was there some sentiment lurking behind Estelle's words to him, an undercurrent of suppressed emotion between them, Wynter asked herself, hearing Adam's short response that he would.

Estelle moved off to speak to Debra and Lucy. Wynter knew this was a terrible slight to Debra, who as Walter's widow should have been paid first respects, but the whole countryside knew that Walter had doted on Wynter and she was his special child.

When Wynter's gaze settled on the broad, dark chest in front of her, she shook a bit as she gave her hand to Van Linden for an obligatory kiss.

“Accept my deepest sympathies for your loss,” he said. “Though I met your father only once, I found him to be a kind and intelligent man.”

“Thank you for your kind words, sir,” she said and felt Adam stiffen beside her. Apparently he hadn't gotten over the humiliating incident with Van Linden when he had been forced to back down.

“If I can be of service—”

“Good of you,” Adam ground out, “but Lady Wynter shall not need your assistance. I am taking over the running off the estate now.”

“Ah, Lord McChesney's passing has heaped considerable responsibility upon your shoulders. I hope you're up to it, young pup.”

“Shall I prove to you with the point of a rapier that I am?”

Wynter didn't care for this exchange of words. After all, her father had just been buried, and now Adam wished to duel with a cocky sea captain as a point of honor. If only Van Linden would learn to keep his comments to himself and not always rile Adam.

“Please,” Wynter said, her voice filled with weariness and pain. “There is no point to such a challenge. For my sake, I suggest you both desist. And, Captain, though I appreciate your sympathies, I'd rather you didn't call on me again.”

Cort stiffened to an imperceptible degree, and the corners of his eyes crinkled into a polite but distant smile. “As you wish, and I hope you both shall be happy together.”

He bowed, and Estelle turned from Debra and took his arm. Then they left the church and climbed into her carriage.

Wynter and Adam left the chapel just as the Montgomery coach pulled away.

“I've a good mind to silence that Dutch blackguard forever,” Adam grumbled.

“Forget him. We must prepare for our future. Papa would have wished us to go on living.”

He nodded. “Yes, you're quite right.”

They walked back to the house together, and Lucy watched them leave.

“I hate her so!” she blurted out lowly to her mother.

“I know, as do I, but there's nothing to be done at the moment. We must bide our time and trust in God that things will turn in our favor.”

“Mother, stop dreaming. Adam and Wynter will be married before Father is cold in his grave.”

Debra pursed her mouth in a thoughtful expression. “I think not, though Somerset owes a great sum of money. I'm afraid the man you love, my dear, is quite mercenary. But that is in your favor.”

Lucy shook her head in perplexity. “I don't understand.”

Debra didn't totally understand either, but Walter's last words kept whirling through her mind. “Will—will—” he had repeated. At first she hadn't known what to make of it, but now a small light dawned, and she was determined to take advantage of the situation as quickly as possible.

“We must send for your father's solicitor in all haste, Lucy,” Debra said, and for the first time in years she smiled a dazzling, happy smile.

“Have you seen Lord Somerset this morning?” Wynter asked Maddie two weeks after her father's death. “Usually he's up and about by now.”

“Aye, I saw him after he ate a hurried breakfast,” Maddie replied and finished filling the porcelain tub behind the silk screen in Wynter's bedroom for her morning bath. “Didn't say where he was off to.”

“How very odd,” Wynter murmured and tied her hair atop her head with a ribbon. In fact Adam had been acting oddly all week, ever since he and Debra were cloistered in the library with her father's solicitor. Wynter had asked him if there were any problems concerning the estate, and he had replied that he would take care of everything, so she put the thought from her mind. But if something were amiss, she decided she'd like to be informed. After all, the estate was her legacy.

“Have Debra and Lucy breakfasted yet?”

Maddie shook her head. “They were up and about early, too, and took off shortly after Lord Adam left. Lady Lucy asked me to curl her hair and iron her best dress.”

Wynter laughed. “Lucy wished her hair curled? Indeed, something is afoot.”