Pirate's Conquest

by Mary Martin

  "Why in blazes did you let her go?' Rayne roared.

  "Let her!" Riley guffawed. "She tricked me with those witch eyes of hers, she did . .. looking so bereft. Then she jabbed a sticker in my ribs and told me exactly what she wanted me to do. I had no choice!"

  Rayne was furious. He knew at once where she had gone. "Cambridge! She went with his crew."

  "Aye, most likely did. And I say good riddance to her. Woman on a ship always was bad luck."

  "Except that you're forgetting one thing, Riley. She's

  even more bad luck off of this ship. For she knows who I really am. I can't take the chance that she'll keep her mouth shut... not after today."

  Ely had just entered the cabin and was doing his best to bite back a smile. Starlin had managed to outfox his brother again! And he felt certain that she would not betray Rayne's identity. She had left because she was searching for answers. He could only hope that she would find them in time.

  Rayne swore softly and ran his fingers through his hair. "The minx is enough to drive a man crazy."

  "Give her some time to settle in at the estate, and then perhaps you might pay her a visit," Ely suggested.

  Rayne looked harassed. "You saw what happened today. It's never going to change."

  "Go to her after you both have a chance to cool your tempers."

  "And she'll turn on me the same as she did Riley," Rayne snorted. "No thank you. I just might be tempted to apply a firm hand to her backside for what she did to the poor man."

  "She is not one that you can browbeat, Rayne. If you try, she'll do her best to beat you every time."

  "Well, the next move is mine. And when she least expects it, I think," Rayne said slyly.

  "It would go easier if you would do the right thing."

  "And just what is that?' Rayne shot back.

  "Have her best interest at heart, for a change, instead of your own," Ely replied without hesitation.

  "I think that you are the one who should have married Starlin, Brother. You certainly seem to know more about pleasing her than I."

  "You're forgetting .. . she doesn't love me."

  Rayne was silent for a moment* presumably con­sidering Ely's words. A sly, tigerish smile suddenly curved his mouth. "Best interests, hmm? We'll just have to see if the lady agrees with you."

  Morning saw Benton Cambridge passed out upon his bed. Mammy Juno arrived with a breakfast tray and set it on a table. She had not told him yet of Starlin's arrival. There would have been no sense in doing so. He would not have been in any condition to greet his sister. Perhaps today, she hoped. She shook him gently. There was no response, not even his usual groan of protest. The old woman bent over him. Even in the diffused light she could tell he had a sickly pallor, and his breathing appeared shallow. The room held an awful odor.

  "Someone has got to convince him that he is killing himself," she murmured to herself, shaking her head sadly. She removed his house shoes and put a pillow beneath his head.

  "Whatever it is that's been eating at you all of these years, I hope your sister can get it out of you," she said softly to his motionless form.

  Starlin slept through most of the day. When she awoke the sun was casting long shadows across the carpet and the heat had settled in the bedchamber. She pushed back the mosquito netting surrounding the canopied bed and sat up. Her bedchamber was still the sunniest room in the house. She looked around. Not much had changed since that long-ago day when she had left to go live with her grandfather. Thinking of the earl, she longed to know how he was recovering.

  The young woman decided she would speak with Benton today. There was little time to waste. She needed answers from Benton, and without delay.

  He just had to remember something of the events that preceded their parents' tragedy, the clues that led them to the site. Even how Carl came to possess the ring?

  It was the prayer-chanting that caught her attention first, then the movement of furniture that sounded as if it were coming from down the hallway. Starlin threw a wrapper about her nightrail and hurried toward Benton's bedchamber.

  She paused at the door, heard Mammy Juno's voice clearly. Starlin knew immediately what to expect as she entered the room.

  The rug had been rolled back and a circle of candles placed on the hardwood floor. Mammy Juno was on her knees in the center, her head bowed, chanting a prayer. She kept on, even though Starlin knew she had to be aware of her presence. Benton Cambridge was alseep on the bed, oblivious to anything.

  "What is going on?" Starlin queried anxiously.

  Mammy Juno paused to look up at the young

  woman. "He is under the powerful influence of evil.

  The whiskey is going to kill him if he doesn't stop his

  drinking." s

  "He does look terribly ill." Starlin murmured, moving to stand by his bedside. She felt deep remorse for the tormented man. He had always been weak, wanting so to have his father's admiration and respect, and never receiving it. The wound must have festered all these years until it became too much for him.

  "Stay with him," she instructed Mammy Juno before leaving the chamber, "and if he awakens, call me at once."

  Hours passed, and there was no change in Benton's condition. Starlin became increasingly concerned. Something had to change, and soon, or so many people's lives stood to be ruined.

  She left the house and stood out in the backyard staring at the playhouse that Carl had built for her, trying to recall all the happy hours she had spent here rather than the fact that this was the last place that she'd seen Carl Cambridge alive.

  Starlin recalled fondly how Carl would read stories to her from the volumes of children's books that lined the shelves along one wall of the playhouse. Slowly, she walked toward the structure and stepped inside.

  Everything was just as she had left it. The dolls, toys, and books were all there. It was like greeting old friends.

  Starlin spent the remainder of the day within the playhouse. The past was there, too, but somehow she was no longer afraid of the memories. Instead of being overwhelmed by haunting fears, she was willing to confront them, and look for answers. And in doing so, she was able to bury that part of the past which had always made her fearful of returning to Key West.

  When she had left, she'd been a frightened, insecure child. Well, no longer. She had returned to seek answers for herself and the people she cared about. And she knew she was strong enough to accept whatever she might find.

  She took one of the books from the shelf and sat down to thumb through the pages. It was covered with dust. She wiped a hand across the jacket. The dust scattered to partially reveal an intricate design swirling through the fine leather, and, glancing at the other volumes, she noticed that each book bore a different design. She had really never paid heed to that fact before, perhaps because she'd been so young and more enthralled with the contents.

  She had enjoyed those times with Carl very much. He read to her a lot. And then other days, he'd encourage her to write her own tales.

  Starlin grew thoughtful.. . remembering now one story that he'd helped her compose.

  A particular tale about two lovers:

  A poor lad and a rich girl, who, as fate would have it, were destined to live their lives apart. The lad told his love that he was off to seek his own fortune. The girl gave him a ring as a memento. He left, vowing to cherish the keepsake, and return. Later, he discovered his love had given him a most precious gift indeed. The ring held a secret to a fabulous treasure. Yet, there were clues missing. It took him years to finally decipher the clues. And by the time that he'd found the way, and discovered the treasure, his lady had been betrothed to a rich, powerful man.

  Starlin did not realize that she was staring down at the intricate design on the volume she was perusing. Something clicked in her brain. The story—the ring— the design on each book. She had seen the design in the ring somewhere before? But.. . how long ago?

  A deep voice broke through her contemplation
and she snapped the book closed and swung about. A dark shape stood in the doorway. She blinked. It was a man, his keen eyes fixed upon her.

  "I did not mean to startle you," he quickly offered.

  "It's all right." Starlin fought to regain some semblance of composure. "I... I suppose I was lost in my musings..I didn't hear your approach."

  "I did call out," he explained. "But I could see you were quite interested in your book." He smiled. "Might I come in? My name is Malcolm Wells, I am the attorney for Cambridge Salvaging."

  "Oh, please come in, Mr. Wells." Starlin dusted off another chair for the man to sit down. "I am Starlin Cambridge Morgan. And I've been wondering when we might meet at last."

  "This is quite a surprise." Malcolm sat down, careful not to muss his coattails. "I had no idea you were planning a visit here."

  "It was rather unexpected." She tried to sound casual. "My husband has business here, and I thought. .. why not come along, too?"

  The attorney paid careful attention to her facial expressions, the constant movement of her hands as she talked. Her mind appeared preoccupied. And what was she doing out here, in this child's playhouse, with those musty old books, so very deep in thought? What was here? "I'm sure Benton is overjoyed." He kept talking as he looked casually about. He wondered if she'd uncovered something that he should know about. "I had heard talk of your arrival. Something about the mayor offering your husband a commission to go after this band of pirates that are preying upon the ships in the area." He picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his coat sleeve. "A dangerous assignment unless one is experienced with these sort of men."

  "I assure you, my husband is quite experienced."

  For some reason the remark made Malcolm uneasy. He was anxious to ask Benton a few questions. "Is Benton up to having visitors this morning?"

  "Benton is clearly not up to much of anything. And I think that I shall start making some of the decisions regarding the firm." She did not relent at his scowl. "You've been too overworked. But from now on I'll approve the transactions. You've only to bring them to me."

  Malcolm was clearly astounded. "What a preposter­ous suggestion! Surely, you cannot be serious."

  "Oh, but I am," Starlin responded.

  "You are a woman!"

  "Yes ... I am." She grinned.

  "The clerks ... the crew. Hmph! They'll not stand still for this!"

  "Does that include you, Mr. WellsT' Starlin asked quietly.

  Malcolm stared into Starlin's violet eyes and cleared his throat nervously. "No!" he replied quickly."I am merely an adviser. I didn't mean any disrespect. I had come to inform Benton of another Cambridge ship being raided and destroyed yesterday. We have an explosive situation on our hands. The men are all threatening to quit. They're scared of this pirate, Scorpio. And rightly so."

  Starlin faced him with forced calm and a fixed expression of authority.

  "Then we must convince them not to quit; and can only hope that these pirate attacks will come to an end soon."

  "Convince them—how?" Malcolm inquired.

  "Tell the men nothing of Benton's illness. Tell them he is working from the estate, that his sister has come home for a visit and he wishes to spend time with her. I'll make the decisions in his place." Starlin's tone was firm. "And hire more men ... able-bodied seamen to man our ships and protect our finds."

  Malcolm frowned. Damn her! Just when he thought he had everything working in his favor, this little chit had to turn up—and with every intention of taking matters completely in hand.

  "If you would allow a suggestion from someone who knows a bit more about the financial strain the firm is experiencing, I think you should really consider cutting your losses and getting out while you can. Benton is a drunk. He should be institutionalized. I think that you should take care of his needs, and allow me to worry about the firm. After all, that is what you pay me to do."

  Her immediate response made him so angry he almost lost his calm composure.

  "Absolutely not," she replied briskly. "Benton, and the firm, are both going to survive these rough times. I shall never put Benton in an asylum. And I won't be defeated by these pirates. I intend to personally see to both." She rose to her feet and stared down at the flustered attorney.

  In no position at the moment to argue further, Malcolm simmered inwardly and gave an affirmative nod.

  "Whatever you say, madam. And I meant no offense by my suggestion. It was merely that—and in your best interest, of course."

  "Of course," Starlin agreed dryly.

  Wells rose, and with a cool nod, left immediately. Starlin called after him, and smiled slightly at the stiffening of his shoulders.

  "No one is to know of our discussion, or of my decision!"

  The days passed swiftly for Starlin. One morning she looked in on Benton to find him sitting up in bed. He grinned snidely. She knew then, Benton sober, was worse than Benton drunk.

  "Well, well. The lamb has returned to the fold. And in view of your recent marriage, what brings you to this barbaric country, my dear sister?"

  It was not a good beginning, nor as the week ended, did it get any better. Benton refused to leave his room, remaining unshaven and unbathed. He was quarrelsome with Starlin and belligerent toward Mammy Juno. Starlin had hoped they might unite their common interests and work together to save the firm, He'd snickered at the suggestion, and after learning that the two women had broken the bottles of liquor they'd found in his room, flew into a rage that frightened them so badly they'd locked him in his bedchamber. He banged on the door until the women felt certain he'd knock it down.

  Of course, Malcolm Wells picked the exact moment : that Benton was swearing like a lunatic to arrive with papers for the proper signature. Starlin remained cool and collected, receiving Malcolm in the parlor, signing the necessary invoices, and, in general, ignoring his presence. He handed her a satchel of work for Benton, with the explanation that he thought it might do him some good to think he was still needed.

  She accepted it and had one of Mammy Juno's sons take it to Benton. After several hours Benton had quieted, and Starlin opened the door. His window was thrown wide and he was nowhere to be seen. She thought the room smelled faintly of liquor, but didn't know how that could be possible. She gritted her teeth and sent Mammy Juno's eldest son, Arman, who was as strong as an ox, to fetch him back home again. Arman found him in one of the island's shanty bars. Benton gave him a good fight. But Arman's hulking size was indomitable.

  Mammy Juno was the first to reach the door upon hearing the sound of a buggy in front of the house. Starlin was almost certain who it was. She went ahead to Benton's bedchamber to turn back the coverlet.

  After sleeping the entire day, Benton awoke to find Starlin sitting in a chair beside his bed, dozing with her head lolling sideways on her shoulder. He tried to get up and noticed for the first time that his hands were firmly bound with strips of cloth and tied to the bedposts. Starlin, of course! Only she would dare something like this! He stared unbelieving for a moment, and then, instead of becoming furious with her, he smiled wryly. She had always been a stubborn minx, and it appeared she was still of the same mind. If she believed strongly in something—be it a cause or an individual—she never gave in. He wondered just what she had in mind for him? God, but it hurt his head even to think. He squinted his eyes.

  "Do you intend to sleep the entire day away?" he said gruffly, watching her closely.

  Starlin awoke instantly, her eyes regarding him warily. She sat up straight in the chair, groaning a bit at her stiff muscles.

  "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

  "I've had enough time to consider my position, if that is what you mean."

  "You forced me to do this."

  "Yeah, and I bet you hated every minute of it, too."

  "I did not like it. And Mammy Juno feels terrible."

  For the first time, Bent on looked a tad remorseful. Starlin saw a ray of hope.

  "She only stay
s on here because of you. She is worried what you'll do should she go and live with Annan. He wants her, too, you know."

  Benton sighed heavily. "I can't say that I blame him. I know I'm an ornery cuss at times." He met Starlin's eyes. "It's just been too much to handle .. . the debts father left. .. those damned pirates." His expression was bleak. "You see I haven't changed very much. I'm still the same old Benton. Weak, ineffective, and—"

  "Stop it!" Starlin said harshly.

  Benton shrugged. "Very well. But you know it's true. Father always preferred you, Starlin, because he could face the truth. He always could."

  "And the drinking—does it truly make you stronger?"

  "No, but then I don't look for anything to accomplish that."

  "You're killing yourself, can't you see that?" she-inquired painfully.

  "Yes—I know."

  She stared at him, comprehension in her eyes. "You don't care at all, do you? But then, I felt the same way once. And you must fight it, Benton. Come to terms with the past."

  "No!" he shouted. "It's more than that—more than anyone could even imagine!"

  "Tell me! I'll understand anything... I want to help," she pleaded.

  He studied her intense features, breathed deeply. "Do you now ?

  "More than anything."

  His eyes were brooding as he stared over her shoulder out of the window. "I've seen him, you know .. . out there ... by the playhouse. He prowls about looking up at the house from time to time." Benton moaned. "Why is he doing this to me . . ." And then as if in answer to his own question: "Because I survived, that's why! And have managed to allow everything he worked so hard for to slip through my fingers."

  Starlin felt a coldness grip her.

  "Who are you referring to?" But deep in her heart she already knew the answer.

  His bloodshot eyes met Starlin's.

  "Why, Father. Who else?'

  "That's not true and you know it," Mammy Juno told the young woman later as they sat peeling vegetables in the large, airy kitchen. "There is no truth in that. It's the evil liquor making him say them things."