“Thank God for that.” Brent was unmoved. “Ashton is a commoner, but Boyleston comes from a good family.”
“But I’m a bastard,” she nearly shouted. “Don’t you understand? You’ve been eaten up by hate for years because you can’t reclaim your own land. I can’t claim anything. My mother was the only person who would acknowledge me, and she’s dead. Do you think the Boylestons would claim a penniless bastard? Mother’s father disowned me before I was born, and Ashton is liable to do the same the next time he gets drunk. I’d be ready to swear an oath that the earl would rather have me drowned at sea than admit his wife is illegitimate.”
Brent tried to calm her, but Summer was too worked up. The horrible secret had been festering inside her for months and she had to get it all out.
“I can never claim to be part of the Boyleston family, and our children wouldn’t be accepted as members of yours. I can’t bear to think of leaving you, but I can’t face a life of ostracism. It would ultimately destroy us, if not because of what it did to us, because of what it did to our children.”
“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” he said, taking her into his arms and holding her close. “I promise that before long we will be man and wife in the eyes of all the world, not just ours.”
“Don’t you understand? Don’t you care? I’m a bastard! There’s no way you can get around that.”
Brent spoke sharply. “I’d rather have you illegitimate than think that Charles Ashton’s blood runs in the veins of every child I sire.” He put his fingers to Summer’s lips to silence her protest. “I don’t care who your father was. I fell in love with you as Ashton’s daughter, and I’ll go on loving you as Boyleston’s. It doesn’t make any difference to me.” He stifled another protest. “Nobody knows anything about Boyleston and no one ever will. Your mother died without breaking her silence and Ashton has no reason to break his. But I can offer him plenty of reasons not to change his story. So, as far as the world is concerned, none of this ever happened. You have two legal and respectable parents, and before long you’re going to be my legal and respectable wife.”
“How?” she asked, hardly daring to hope he could find a way to dispel the troubles that dogged her heels.
“Smith and the lawyers will unravel the tangle.”
“Isn’t it impossible unless Gowan dies?”
“Maybe not. Since you’ve never met your husband and were married against your will, the best solution would be to have the marriage annulled. However, we may have to settle for something less satisfactory.”
“What?” she said, almost afraid to ask.
“I’ve told Smith that if things begin to look impossible, he’s to steal the records and destroy them.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” she gasped, horrified.
“I’d sack every church in New Spain if it would free you from that marriage. I’m not going to let anyone or anything stand in the way of your happiness.”
“Can it really be done without causing a scandal or doing something terrible that people will never forget?”
“I’m a rich man, and I can’t think of a better way to use my money than to buy your freedom.”
“Can you promise something like that?”
“Do you doubt me?”
“No, but…”
“No buts. Either you do or you don’t. Do you believe in me?”
“You know I do.”
“Do you believe that I will do what I say I’ll do?”
“Yes, as far as you are able.”
“There you go, qualifying your trust again. Have you ever known me to fail?” he challenged. “Come on, have you?”
“No, I haven’t,” she confessed with a trace of a smile, “not even when I thought there was no way you could succeed. But then you never took on the whole western world.”
“Then forget all your fears. We’ve wasted too much time on them already.”
“That sounds agreeable to me.” Summer repressed an urge to ignore any possible obstacles to her happiness. “I would like nothing better than to settle down here and raise a family of strong sons and beautiful daughters, but there is one more question that has to be faced.” She hesitated, but knew she had to go ahead. “What about your home in Scotland?”
“I’ve told you before that I no longer have a home in Scotland.” His voice was harsh, a look of dulled hatred filled his eyes, and his hands instinctively tightened on the reins. The horses reacted sharply to the sudden pressure on their tender mouths, and Summer allowed Brent time to get himself and the horses under control before she spoke again.
“What about your estates? Are they still yours?”
“As long as I pay the taxes Gowan can’t take them from me unless I die without an heir, but as long as I’m outlawed they might as well be his personal property.” He ground his teeth. “But I have better land here even if there’s not so much of it. Why should I saddle myself with a run-down estate that’s covered by snow half the year?”
“Will you be content here?”
“Yes!” That one strangled syllable convinced Summer that no matter what Brent did with the rest of his life, he would never forget his home or the manner in which he had been forced to leave it.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he asked after a prolonged silence.
“No,” Summer answered quietly. “You could forget if you had left on your own, but not when you were driven out against your will.”
“You’re as bad as Smith. There’s no reason to go back. The estate has been going to ruin for years. My father went to sea to find the money to restore it, but it would now take a fortune to put Windswept back on its feet. It would be years before it could begin to pay back the investment.”
“Have you forgotten your father’s money?”
“That’s beyond reach. My father trusted Gowan so completely that there’s no way to prove the money ever existed, much less that it was mine. If any proof does exist, it’s in Gowan’s hands.”
“Can’t the courts help you?”
“The courts are Gowan’s trump card. He doesn’t have to lift a finger against me. He can even pretend to see to my part as my guardian and trustee while the courts do his dirty work for him. He’s required to uphold any verdict they reach, and since there’s only one verdict they can reach, he has me neatly boxed in.”
“But someone must know something.”
“After what happened to Ben, no one is going to come forward to speak against him.”
“There’s got to be some way.”
“I’ve spent years trying to think of one, but I can’t even get near Scotland as long as I’m accused of murder. That was Gowan’s master stroke. There’s no way I can be cleared, not with his men waiting to swear that Ben was last seen alive with me screaming at him.”
“Were you?”
“Yes. I went mad with rage when he told me what Gowan had done, and I went straight to the castle and confronted Gowan with everything. Fool! Somehow I expected he would confess and everything would right itself. That was stupid, but I was too young and angry to think; I couldn’t see that the most likely result would be that Gowan would find a way to get rid of me.”
“People would have suspected him first if anything had happened to you.”
“Not when no one knew about the money. AH anyone knows is that I’m supposed to have killed that old man.”
“What did happen to him?”
“I don’t know. Someone must have overheard enough to tell Gowan that I knew the truth. Ben and I left the tap room still arguing, and we separated at the edge of the village. They found him in a ditch not far from his sister’s cottage. He had been hit over the head and strangled. My riding crop was found nearby. I sealed my own fate by running away.”
“There must be a way to prove your innocence.”
“No way and no reason. I have everything I want right here.”
“But Smith says you’ll never be happy until you go back.”
“Smith is a romantic fool for all his efficiency,” declared Brent. “He listened to me too often those first years. All I could think about then was how much I hated Gowan. I counted the days until I would be able to wreak my vengeance. But when I saw you things began to change. I didn’t care about revenge anymore. It took me a while to find that out, but now Scotland seems far away, too remote to be an important part of my life ever again.”
“I can’t believe that I can be a substitute for a lost estate.” Summer was not sure quite what to think.
“I’d forgo the whole of Scotland before I’d hand you over to Gowan for even one hour.”
Overcome by this tribute, Summer abandoned her effort to make Brent realize how important his past still was to him. She feared he would never be content as long as his family’s name was sullied, but she decided she would talk of this some other time. She had never experienced the electrifying feeling of having the man of her dreams tell her she was more valuable than an estate, and she intended to bask in his love and enjoy his adulation to the fullest. She tightened her hold on Brent and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Do you love me enough to let me change the house?” she asked, looking up into his eyes and giving him her most tempting smile.
“Keep smiling at me like that, and I will let you tear it down block by block.”
“I don’t mean to do anything so drastic,” she assured him, satisfied that he had given her permission to proceed. “I only want to open it up to the sunshine. It’s so dark I feel I’m in a cave when I’m in that main hall.”
“I’ve spent my whole life in the open, so you have my permission to do whatever you like.”
Summer sat up, eyes alight, words about to cascade from her lips.
“Provided I approve of it first,” he added hastily.
Her pent-up energy escaped in a chuckle. “I knew you were going to say something like that. You probably won’t even allow me to use the estate carpenters.”
“They’ll be working on the mill, or the barns, or building kegs for the rum. You and I will have to build it with our own hands.”
“In that case I’d better forget it. You’d probably do quite well at knocking out walls, but I have no faith in your staying around long enough to rebuild them.”
“You dare to doubt my ability?”
“Your ability, no, but I do doubt your willingness to toil when you have others to do it for you.”
“Wise woman. I knew there must be a reason why I loved you.”
“You’d better not forget, you treacherous dog,” she said, pinching him in the side and causing him to jump away from her sharp fingernails. The horses didn’t understand the confusing signals coming through the lines, and one tried to stop while the other attempted to turn. “Pay attention to your horses. You’ve been at sea so long, you don’t know how to guide anything without a rudder.”
“You shall pay dearly for that bit of sarcasm, madame.” Brent settled the horses, then taunted her. “I shall gamble away your dowry and leave you without a dress to your name.”
Summer’s gaiety vanished. “I have no dowry,” she said as though she realized it for the first time. “It was gambled away before I was sold into marriage.”
“You don’t need a dowry.” Brent put an arm around her.
“You ought to get your lawyers to look into my mother’s will,” she said angrily. “Half of the land was left to me, along with the house and the money. The money’s gone, but the house and land are still there if Ashton hasn’t sold them yet.”
“I’ll make you a bargain,” Brent offered, realizing that the question of her dowry was likely to loom larger and larger in her mind. “If you can forget about your dowry, I’ll forget about Scotland. Our lives can begin from this moment. We have only the future and each other. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try,” she said, looking at him with tears and love in her eyes. “I will try very hard.”
“Good. I’m taking you to see the new sugar mills,” he said kicking the horses into a trot despite the roughness of the track. “Tomorrow you can look at the maps of the island and you’ll be able to understand how the plantation is laid out. This field is given over to grain for the cattle. It seems they ravage the crops unless they’re kept fat and lazy. I told Carlos to run them loose in the swamp, but I don’t think he wants to change the way they’ve done things here for ages.”
Brent continued to talk of his estates, and Summer settled back to listen with the part of her mind that was interested in cows and sugar cane. Another part of her gave itself over to choosing materials to cover chairs and deciding on what new furniture the carpenters should build. There was some beautiful wood on the island. In time she could give the house a completely new look. She would have to see to the domestic arrangements as well. Juanita and Pedro did their work beautifully, but it was impossible for such a large house to be run by just two people. Brent’s home had to reflect his wealth and power. It must be perfect.
Maybe she wouldn’t need to become involved in the running of the estate after all. Brent seemed interested, and the overseer quite capable. Why not leave it to them? She could supervise the gardens. She might even design the public rooms as an extension of the gardens, with the terrace as a common meeting ground. Of course, that would have to wait until they had decided upon the changes in the house, but it was an idea that would bear some thought.
Brent continued to talk contentedly about the fields they passed. Summer nodded now and then, but became more and more lost in her own daydreams. She did not want to think of the past. Everything she wanted was in the future, and her future was right here.
“Hmmm?” she said, when Brent repeated his question.
“I’ve asked you twice if you didn’t think that was the best looking bull you’d ever seen.”
“He’s beautiful, an absolutely perfect specimen,” Summer agreed, not knowing whether she was talking about cows or alligators. Brent looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her eyelids were closed, her head was tilted to one side, and an almost inane smile was spread across her face.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. You have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“I do,” she said dreamily, keeping her eyes closed. “You were talking about bulls, beautiful, perfect bulls.”
“You’ve been in the sun too long.” Brent stopped the trap and began to turn it around beside fields of ripening corn. “I’m taking you back to the house right now. I want you to lie down for a while. Don’t even get up for a glass of water.” He started the team homeward.
“I heard what you said,” Summer murmured. “You were talking of bulls lying down until dinner time. See, I told you I was listening to every word.”
Brent whipped the horses into a gallop.
Chapter 32
“Get those lazy girls moving,” Pedro said to Juanita as he returned to the kitchen. “If we don’t serve dinner soon, those two are going to eat each other right up. They’re just about past human hunger now.”
“You let them be.” Juanita brushed butter on a fat squab. “There’s nothing wrong with being in love. You tend to your business and get the first course served before it gets cold.”
“Nothing wrong, she says,” Pedro grumbled, loading the trays with steaming dishes of food. “The captain brings another man’s wife here and you say there’s nothing wrong.”
“The captain can tend to his own business without help from you,” Juanita scolded before pushing him out of the kitchen. “You just see you don’t slop those peas over the hall floor, or you’ll be the one who’s not all right.”
“If you ask me, he’s stepped into a mite of trouble he can’t handle,” Pedro declared. “You mark my words, this is going to bring trouble, bad trouble.”
“Pedro Martinez, you’ve never been right about anything in your entire life,” his wife said fondly. “Why should anyone listen to you now?”
“Because it’s not right, that’s
why, and I know it,” he grumbled. “You just wait and see.”
“I don’t think Pedro’s happy with us,” Summer said to Brent as he sipped his after-dinner brandy. “I’m afraid you’ve gone against the poor man’s principles.” Summer had declined to leave Brent to enjoy his brandy alone, so they sat together on the terrace.
“Damn his principles.” Brent snorted. “Pedro will do as he’s told and keep his morals to himself.”
“Do you think the rest of the servants know?”
“I don’t care. None of it will matter in a few days. Now come here and take my mind off all these problems. There’s a particularly lovely terrace halfway down to the sea. I want to show it to you.”
“I’m not sure I trust you in the dark.”
“Where do you trust me?”
“Nowhere, so now you’ll ask me why the dark should make any difference,” she chortled. “I know what you’ll do if you get half a chance.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know much about me at all. If you think I’m going to make love to you on the goddamned grass when I’ve got a perfectly good bed upstairs you know even less than I thought.”
“I most humbly beg your forgiveness,” she said with exaggerated humility. “I will never question you again. Lead on, master.”
“A little more of your lip and I’ll tumble you in the grass after all. You deserve it.”
“Aha! You admitted it, you confessed that you lied and that you are the treacherous lout I thought you to be all the time.” Brent made a playful lunge for her, but she dashed behind the table. “I’ll scream if you come one step closer.”
“The first person to show his face will get his neck wrung for his pains.”
“How unfair of you. How else am I supposed to hold off your improper advances?”
“You’re not.” Brent vaulted over the table and captured Summer before she could take a step. “Now, my little dewdrop, I’m going to lap you up and make an end of you.” Summer happily subsided into his embrace, and they walked contentedly down the path that led to one of the sculptured terraces bathed in iridescent moonlight.
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