Despite the sword pressed against his spine, Valentine Whitelaw helped Lily climb into the boat that had been rowed ashore from the Estrella D'Alba. He knew it was the Estrella D'Alba; he had recognized its castellated towers and the streaming banners and pennants, as well as her coat of arms displayed so proudly for her enemies to gaze upon before being sunk by her overpowering cannon fire. The other ships which had accompanied her had gone in pursuit of the Madrigal.
"Valentine?" Lily murmured softly.
Valentine Whitelaw glanced down at her sitting so quietly next to him on the seat. Valentine took her cold hand in his, for the Spaniards had left them unbound, knowing that their captives had nowhere to run.
"My Lily Francisca, I would not have had it end this way," he said, unaware that he repeated another lover's regrets, tearfully spoken over ten years earlier when Geoffrey Christian had sent his wife and daughter ashore on this very same isle.
"They will kill you, Valentine," she spoke huskily.
"I know," he said. Even though he could not understand their Spanish words, he knew, for they had called him El Tigre. It would be an honor for any captain, especially Don Pedro Villasandro, to hang Valentine Whitelaw. "Of course, they have to get me back to Spain first," he added, a slight smile curving his lips, which had one of his captors crossing himself worriedly, for the Englishman was supposed to have magical powers-how else could he have wreaked such destruction along the Main?
"They have been talking of your death, Valentine," Lily said, barely able to pronounce the damning words. "You and I will find no mercy from them, or their captain, Valentine," she told him, and glancing at the body that had been wrapped in a length of sail cloth and placed on the bottom of the boat, she continued. "That is their captain's son, Valentine. They blame me and you for his death. So will this captain of theirs."
At that, Valentine Whitelaw did look concerned. Don Pedro's son? He glanced at Lily and realized that she did not know that the man was her cousin. How he had come to die, and why she should be blamed, he had yet to learn, but pay for the lad's death, yes, by God, he knew they would if they ever did reach Spain--but then, perhaps they never would reach their destination, he thought, glancing at Don Pedro's galleon. He did not fear his own death, for he had expected it during every battle he'd fought, but Lily . . . no, not Lily. And he feared Don Pedro would have good reason for seeing Lily Christian dead. It would settle a very old score-an eye for an eye.
The boat had cleared the whitewater of the surf and was being rowed ever closer toward the entrance to the cove, and to the Estrella D'Alba, anchored just beyond the reefs.
"Why did the Madrigal leave us?" Lily asked, her angrily raised voice drawing the attention of one of the sailors, whose eyes lingered overly long on Lily's fiery red hair and soft breasts revealed all too immodestly in her thin chemise.
Valentine Whitelaw wanted to drive his sword through the Spaniard for the way he was looking at Lily, as if she were a whore; indeed, had Valentine understood the Spaniards as Lily had, he would have been angrier to have heard Lily referred to as El Tigre's redheaded whore. There had even been some speculation as to what her fate would be before she ever reached Spain and surely met her death there was a witch.
"The Madrigal was outgunned, Lily. She would have been sunk had she not fled. Those were my orders," Valentine told her, damning himself now for not having been more vigilant, more suspecting of treachery, but although he had expected that word would have leaked out about the Madrigal's journey, he'd had no idea of the true traitor's identity or that every move he'd made had been anticipated and reported by that unknown enemy
Lily Christian stared at Valentine Whitelaw's face. She loved him. If he were to die, and in the manner in which these Spaniards were discussing, she would never rest in peace. She could not bear to see him harmed. As Lily sat in the boat, still shaken by the death of the young man who'd given his life for hers and knowing that she and Valentine would soon follow by just as violent a death, she stared at the deep turquoise waters of the cove splashing against the sides of the small boat.
Her gaze shifted toward the headland, where only that morning they'd climbed the stony path to the cave. Then her gaze moved to the great galleon that rode at anchor just beyond the reefs, and where she and Valentine would be taken aboard as prisoners.
Once in Spain, Valentine Whitelaw would be tried and found guilty of being a heretic by his Inquisition judges. Upon sentence, he would be burned at the stake in a public square. Lily closed her eyes, shivering in terror at such a thought as her own fate . . . she would gladly welcome death, no matter how painful, if Valentine died.
Lily opened her eyes to see a porpoise frolicking in the blue-green waters. She watched unthinkingly for a few minutes while the porpoise jumped and dived through the purple and orange reefs, disappearing for a minute, then suddenly surfacing with a splash of water and a funny-sounding cry. As she continued to gaze into the clear waters, she saw a large turtle paddling by, intent upon some business of his own, oblivious of the world above his underwater realm.
As Lily watched him drifting into the safety of the deep water below, she suddenly remembered. Her heart started pounding so loudly with the idea that she thought their guards must surely hear and suspect something amiss.
"Valentine?"
Valentine Whitelaw grasped her hand tighter, thinking she was growing frightened as they neared the tall sterncastle of the galleon.
"Do you trust me?'
"¡Silencio!" one of the guards said, raising his halberd threateningly.
Lily lowered her head submissively, her fingers tightening around Valentine's hand warning him not to speak, for she felt the anger surging through him. But he mustn't be hurt or wounded, not now.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes, of course," he said wonderingly.
"Then jump over the side of the boat when I do. You must follow me, Valentine. I led you to the cave didn't I? I will do so again," Lily promised. "Trust me, please, Valentine," she begged him. "I told you something else about that cave. Remember?"
Valentine stared down at her bowed head. To drown would at least be preferable to burning, he thought. And at least they would be together. "Yes, I trust you, Lily Francisca," he said, but even as he spoke, he found himself remembering her last words about the cave and suddenly he laughed softly, which caused his captor who'd already been disturbed by El Tigre's smile of moments ago, to glance in concern at Diego Calderon, leaving his captives unguarded for just an instant.
Lily kept her head down, but she was watching the headland through the corner of her eyes. "Take a deep breath. Now!" she cried, and standing up in the small boat, she jumped into the sea.
Valentine Whitelaw had stood up with her, but had somehow managed to rock the easily overbalanced boat before he followed Lily into the watery depths.
Gunfire sounded after their descent into the aquamarine depths, but the bullets and spears that followed floated harmlessly down into the deep.
The startled guards in the boat continued to gaze frantically into the sea, waiting to see the two surface, some trying to position their harquebuses in the rocking boat while others took aim with their pikes, ready to spear the two heretics like gasping fish when they came up for air.
But the two never surfaced. For almost half an hour, the boat remained in the same position, the crew searching the water, but no sign was ever seen of the two prisoners. The oarsmen even rowed back to shore, searching the beach and the surrounding areas of both headlands, but no sign could be found of either one.
None of them wished to report to their captain, Don Pedro Villasandro, that the two prisoners, one of them the infamous El Tigre, had drowned while trying to escape. And that would have been the easy part, for the rest of their task would be harder when they had to inform Don Pedro that his son was dead.
Valentine Whitelaw followed Lily as she swam deeper into the sea, and he suddenly had the fanciful thought that she was indeed the mer
maid he'd thought her to be, leading him to his death in a watery grave. He felt as if his lungs were going to burst, but still she swam ahead of him as if born to the sea. Never had he seen anyone move with such ease and grace through the water. Her long hair floated out around her like the seaweed drifting through the water. He kicked off his shoes, paddling all the harder to keep up with her, but she always remained just ahead of him, her pale legs beckoning him to keep following her deeper and deeper into the turquoise depths that stretched into indigo beneath him, and where only fish and turtles and strange undersea creatures--and Lily Christian--dared to roam.
He felt a roar growing louder in his ears and a painful burning in his chest, and it was with a sense of disbelief that he saw her disappear into a coral reef and he found himself wondering if she had gills.
Once inside, however, she was suddenly there beside him, her hand grasping his. Thinking he was about to black out from lack of oxygen, although the sea surrounding him suddenly seemed far lighter in color, he held on to her hand all the tighter, not daring to let loose even if she did head toward the dark corridor he saw in the distance. But Lily started kicking her feet and rising to the surface, pulling him along with her.
Suddenly glorious air filled his lungs and above him he could actually see blue sky and tufts of salmon pink clouds, burnished around the edges from the sunset, drifting by. He breathed deeply again, the air heavy with salt spray and the sound of the sea.
Her pale green eyes met his for a triumphant second before she was diving back down again, her hand grasping hold of his again to lead him into the dark, narrow-walled corridor that wended through the coral reef, and hopefully not out to sea.
He had about despaired of ever reaching land again when his feet struck sad and he surfaced just behind Lily into a cavern formed of rock, and the very same cave he'd been in earlier in the day.
Slipping more than once, he staggered out of the water, his arm flung over Lily's slender shoulder. He was unaware that he was leaning so heavily on her until she stumbled under his weight and they both fell to the sandy floor of the cave, but high enough on the sloping floor not to worry about the rising tide.
Their breath came raggedly as they lay there.
Then Valentine Whitelaw's laughter filled the cave, startling Lily from her fatigue. His laughter was jubilant, deep and rich with triumph.
Suddenly he rolled over and captured her mouth with his, kissing her deeply and stealing from her the breath she'd just caught. "Thank you for my life, my dearest love," he murmured against her lips, then lifting his mouth from hers, he got to his feet and walked quickly to the mouth of the cave.
Lily struggled onto her stomach, staring at the cave entrance where he'd disappeared. Trying to calm her racing pulse, she found herself smiling slightly--they were alive, and he'd called her his dearest love.
As she lay there, dripping wet from the sea, she suddenly began to shiver. She was so cold. She was suffering more from the effect of the traumatic experiences of the day than the coolness of the cave, and with teeth chattering, Lily sat up and wrapped her arms around her shaking chest.
"They are searching the cove for us. The Estrella D'Alba is still anchored beyond the reefs. We will be safe here at least," Valentine said as he reentered the cave, forgetting that she might recognize the name of Don Pedro's ship. "Lily>" he said worriedly, seeing her huddled so forlornly against the floor of the cave.
"Why, you're shaking."
He knelt down beside her, taking her into his arms and lifting her off the floor. Walking to where a pale shaft of sunlight filtered into the cave, he sat down against the curving wall of the cavern and held Lily in his arms.
His hands moved over her arms and legs, not passionately, but merely to restore the circulation to her cold limbs. The shaft of light held some warmth, and gradually Lily's shaking lessened, but when Valentine caught sight of her face, he saw that it was tearstained.
"Ah, my love," he breathed, placing a soft kiss against each eye.
Lily felt shamed and tried to hide her face from his gaze, but he turned it up to his and stared down into the tormented green eyes.
"What happened on the island, Lily? Those soldiers didn't touch you, did they?" he suddenly demanded, a horrible thought entering his mind when he remembered Lily’s dishabille when she'd been led captive onto the beach by the soldiers.
"That young man, Valentine. The Spaniard who died," she said, her voice husky with tears. "He saved my life," she told him, stunning Valentine with the confession.
"He did?"
"He needn't have died, Valentine. I might be the one lying dead right now if he hadn't pushed me away and stepped in front of me. It was Choco."
"Choco?" Valentine asked, not remembering the black jaguar.
Lily nodded. "He was at the pool. I had wanted to find him. I wanted to know if he still lived. I was swimming in the pool when I heard the thunder. I was wading out when I saw him lying in the tall grass. But, Valentine, he didn't attack me. He could have, but he remembered me, I know he did," Lily said, her hands gripping Valentine's arms.
"The jaguar you left behind. Choco," he said, understanding now. But the thunder she claimed she'd heard had been cannon fire.
"I truly think he might have left me alone," Lily said, not seeing the expression on Valentine's face when he thought how close she'd been to death facing that jaguar, for he did not believe that the big jungle cat would have left her alive and his arms tightened around her body, holding her closer to him.
"Those soldiers came into the clearing by the pool. I didn't see them at first, but they saw me in the pool and were coming to take me prisoner so I would not warn you when Choco leaped out of the grass. I don't know who was more frightened. He isn't used to strangers and felt they were threatening him. When they ran, I escaped, only that young Spaniard caught me. We were standing there, just beyond the hut, when Choco came flying over the fallen tree. That was when that man pushed me aside. It was awful," Lily said, beginning to cry in earnest now, her muffled sobbing racking her body.
Valentine's hands were gentle as they caressed her. "He screamed so horribly and there was so much blood. The poor man. I didn't know him, Valentine, and yet he gave his life for me. He was my enemy. Why would he sacrifice himself for me?" she asked, burying her face against Valentine.
Valentine continued to hold her until she had fallen into a restless sleep. He stared at the shaft of light, watching it fade as the sun sank lower, until finally the cave was thrown into complete darkness.
Lightly resting his chin on top of her head, his arms holding her close against his heart, he stared into the darkness. Strange, he thought, that Don Pedro Villasandro, a man who had betrayed so many others, including his wife's sister, should now have to pay so great a price for his sins. Retribution had been ten years in coming, but when it had, it had struck swiftly and cruelly, taking from Don Pedro his only son, and on the very same isle where he'd left Basil and Magdalena and an innocent child to die. It would be a bitter irony to Don Pedro that his son should die saving the life of the girl that he, years earlier, had passed a death sentence on.
"Lily." He said her name softly, caressingly, and settling himself more comfortably against the damp wall of the cave, he closed his eyes for a few minutes of rest. "Lily, you're mine now," he murmured before he fell asleep.
Lily awoke, startled, her heart pounding. The sound of the sea lapping gently against the floor of the cave reminded her all too quickly of where she was and what had happened.
She shivered, then hearing the steady breathing of the man lying next to her, she felt herself relaxing. The heat of his body had warmed hers while they'd been curled up asleep on the floor of the cave. His arm was heavy across her waist, while his leg was slightly bent and resting between hers, giving her a strange feeling of shared intimacy with him.
She eased herself onto her elbow and stared into his face, curious to look at him more closely now that he was asleep and she did n
ot have to face his quizzical gaze.
"I love you, Valentine," she whispered, her breath soft against his face. "I always have loved you and I always shall. I would have died if anything had happened to you. Valentine," she said the name again.
He was beautiful, she decided, noting the finely chiseled mouth and the straight bridge of his nose. His cheekbones were high, the flesh taut across his lean, bronzed face. His eyebrows were not too thick, one even arched slightly higher than the other, she thought with a smile. She knew a sudden urge to reach out and touch his beard, to feel its roughness beneath her palm. A black curl had fallen across his wide brow, and Lily knew the curling strand would be soft beneath her touch. Her gaze drifted down his body, lingering on his chest and hips and she found herself wondering unmaidenly thoughts. She frowned slightly, then gazed lower before returning her stare to his face,
Belatedly, she realized that it was dawn, and that she'd been gazing at hi through the silvery light spreading through the rough-hewn window high on the cave wall.
She continued to lie in his arms, staring at him, until finally she could no longer resist and she reached out and lightly touched his beard with her fingertip.
She was taken aback to have her finger bitten, then find his turquoise eyes staring deeply into hers with a boldness she didn't understand until he rolled over and pinned her beneath him. Her eyes widened in surprise as she felt a probing hardness pressing against her.
"And I love you," he said, smiling when he saw her look of surprise. "When we share a bed you will learn soon enough that I am a very light sleeper. I've been enjoying your caress for the last half an hour, although I've had a hard time containing myself knowing those beautiful green eyes have been wandering over me."
Wild Bells to the Wild Sky Page 60