One of the Lenweri stepped forward. “I might be able to help. My family are healers and our people understand magic.”
Esta didn’t hesitate. “Please, do what you can.”
The elf laid one of his hands on Katrine’s forehead and the other on her chest and closed his eyes. Esta’s own chest hurt as she waited for his verdict. Finally he opened his eyes. “I think she will be well. Only rest is needed.”
“But you can’t be sure?” She could not lose Katrine.
“Nothing in this life is certain, lady.” He looked at the pond. “Have you noticed the water is gone?”
Esta looked toward the pool and found it dry. An object in the bottom reflected the sun’s rays. “Captain?”
Samael stood and crossed to the edge of the pond, jumping down into the dry bottom. He stooped to collect the object. “A lady’s earring.” He pulled something from his shirt.
The metal rod! Esta’s heart picked up its pace as Samael leaned under the crystal. A grinding ensued and she released Katrine’s hand and stood. A circular platform, a pace in diameter, rose from the center of the pond’s base. As far as Esta could see, it was empty.
Chapter 8
Samael squatted frozen beside the platform—the empty platform. All they had been through to get here rolled through his mind and now it seemed it was a cruel trick. Or someone had beaten them here. He stood and turned to Lady Moonlight, the earring clasped in one fist. He made his way back to the side and climbed up.
“It’s empty?” she asked.
“Except for this.” He held out the earring. It was unique; a gold setting with a vibrant opal that caught the light and radiated multi-colored magnificence.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice hushed.
“Not much use as a single earring,” Samael said. “Though I could get my ear pierced and rename myself the opal pirate.”
Moonlight glared at him. “You would think it was yours to keep.”
Lady Star groaned and her sister flew to her side. “Sister, are you well?”
“Where am I and why is my bed so damned hard?” Lady Star pushed her hand through her hair. “Ouch!” She peered at her palm. “Why is my hand burned?”
“It was the effect of the light, Lady Star,” Samael said. “Both palms.”
She groaned again. “Everything aches, my chest hurts, my eyes feel like they are boiling in their sockets. She looked up and Samael gasped. Her eyes were brilliant chips of blue fire instead of their usual sapphire.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Samael looked at Lady Moonlight hoping she would take the lead but she stared at her sister, eyes wide. He turned back to the witch. “Can you see?”
“Of course I can see,” she snapped. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Your eyes,” he said, “They are changed, brighter, blinding.”
“Rubbish!” She put her hand before her eyes. Her palm showed the glittering reflection of her orbs. “No, no, no,” she moaned. “This can’t be happening. I can’t function if everywhere I go I scare people.”
The Lenweri cleared his throat. “If I may say something?”
“Go ahead, Ethron,” Samael said.
“I have heard of this before—the eyes. They fade but their brilliance will remain enhanced. You will be noticed but not so much as now.”
Lady Star stared at him. “You can’t know that.” She looked from her sister to Samael. “Where’s the treasure?”
Samael again looked to Moonlight but she frowned back at him. “Lady Star, after the crystal went quiet, we saw the water had drained from the pond. I used the key and a platform rose. All that was left was this.” He lifted the single earring. “It should be yours.” He handed the opal to her.
“Gone,” she said. “All for naught.” She lifted the earring to her left ear lobe and pushed the hook through the flesh. A drop of blood gathered on the skin she had just pierced. The stunning opal hung, reflecting the light, a fitting accompaniment to the lady’s eyes.
Sam flinched at the thought of what it would take to pierce his own ear. Lady Star was one unusual woman. He turned to Moonlight wondering if she was as discomforted by the display as he was. By the pallor of her skin, she was.
“Let’s get out of this place.” Lady Star climbed to her feet and strode from the chamber.
Chapter 9
Four long weeks after her adventure in the crystal cavern, Esta and her maid alighted from the coach in the forecourt of Wildecoast Castle. She was wondering where her aunt was when the aging seamstress bustled down the stairs.
“Esta, Esta,” she said, placing a kiss on each cheek and pulling her niece into a hug. “I’ve so looked forward to this. Your dress is ready. You won’t believe how beautiful it is. The Queen herself will be envious.”
Esta smiled at the torrent of words. Aunt Paurella was the Queen’s dressmaker and full of the love of life. She never failed to lift her spirits. Pair that with the Queen’s ball this evening and Esta had begun to believe she might shake off the gloom that had enveloped her over the last three weeks, the time that had elapsed since Samael had put them ashore near the river on the edge of her estate.
“Come, come, my girl,” Paurella said. “It has been a long trip. You will want refreshments.”
Esta ordered her maid and footman to bring her luggage and followed her aunt who kept up a constant stream of words on palace gossip and the goings on in the kingdom.
“I’ve had you placed in a suite two doors from mine. Your maid has a small room in there as well. But come to my chambers and we’ll have afternoon tea. Do you wish to use the palace baths? No? Then I’ll have a bath prepared in your room.”
Esta had forgotten how many words streamed from Paurella’s mouth. She smiled and let the deluge wash over her. At least there was no need to say much and that suited Esta very well.
They entered her aunt’s chambers and there on a dressmaker’s mannequin was one of the most gorgeous gowns Esta could ever have imagined. It was a deep emerald green satin with small puffed sleeves dropped provocatively off the shoulder, a full skirt with a flounce at the back that dropped into an emerald lace train. It left the shoulders bare and, Esta imagined, would also expose a daring amount of bosom. But it was exquisite.
“Is this mine?” she asked, hardly daring to believe it could be so.
“That it is, Esta,” Paurella said. “And I’ll hear no nonsense about you not being worthy. You work jolly hard. I want you to let your hair down tonight. Dance with a handsome man.” She handed Esta an elegant silver mask edged with green lace. “Everyone will be masked tonight and I don’t doubt that will free inhibitions.”
Esta fixed the mask in place and looked at herself in the mirror. “Perhaps I will let my hair down at that,” she said, but she found the prospect of dancing with a stranger in a mask unnerving. All the fun in the world wouldn’t solve any of her problems and instead of enjoying herself, perhaps her efforts would be better spent in gaining financial help for her estate. A fling with an attractive man would achieve little unless he was also wealthy.
The afternoon passed in a whirlwind of bathing, perfuming, hair teasing and make up. Esta was now ready to brave the ball. At least she told herself she was ready. In actual fact, she was more nervous than usual. Could she carry off this dress or would the upper nobility know that she was a fraud, and that she somehow didn’t deserve to wear this gown or dance in this company?
As she stood before the long mirror in her room, she was thrilled at the way the gown hugged her curves and showed off her shoulders and bosom to their best advantage. She stepped into her silver slippers and settled the beautiful mask over her features. Her chestnut hair was artfully arranged on top of her head with wispy tendrils escaping from the sides and back. The Queen had loaned her an emerald necklace and earrings to complete the look though how Aunt Paurella had persuaded the monarch to do such a thing, Esta couldn’t imagine.
She took one last look and turn
ed as her aunt entered.
“You are gorgeous, Esta. I hope you have a magical night.”
Esta would be happy if no magic were involved. She had developed an aversion to it since that day in the crystal chamber. “Thank you, Aunt Paurella. This dress and all you’ve done for me is a treasure beyond words.”
“I want you to be happy, Esta. You deserve it.”
Esta smiled and hugged her aunt before stepping into the hall where a page waited to escort her downstairs.
There were no announcements that evening since it was a masquerade ball. Esta hated being announced, having every eye upon her, so she was glad when she was able to glide up to the doorway of the ballroom in silence. Her escort bowed and scurried away while Esta turned to survey the room.
There were already many in attendance though she couldn’t see the royal couple. She spied Lord Nikolas Cosara, admiral of the King’s navy, and his new wife Lady Merielle. Merielle’s red hair stood out like a beacon. There was much speculation around Merielle and where she had come from but Esta didn’t care. Everyone had secrets, things they didn’t wish to share. She liked Merielle and wished she had the time to get to know her better.
Esta stepped through the doorway and began to make her way across to the Cosaras but was stopped by a man in a blue velvet jacket and black velvet pants. It had to be Lord Tomas Hen who swept her into a dance, since he loved velvets. It was pleasant enough and she was encouraged by the warm look in his caramel eyes but this was hardly the handsome man she sought. If she was even seeking such! There was no point taking on her aunt’s wild ideas. Tonight may be enjoyable but the thought of a wild liaison that she would come to regret in the morning turned Esta’s stomach to ice.
After the dance, she excused herself and continued toward Nikolas and Merielle who now chatted with another couple. She would swear it was Kain Jazara, once army general, and his wife Lady Alique Zorba. The sight of them holding hands sent a pang through Esta.
What is wrong with me? I’ve never been so soppy sentimental before! Since the treasure hunt, Esta’s emotions had been uncertain: one minute, strong and resilient, and the next a shaking mess. She blamed the experience in the crystal chamber. Katrine, too, was a changed woman and had left the estate in search of answers to her new condition.
Before she could reach the two couples, another masked man asked her to dance and she spent the next hour being whirled around the dance floor on one or another man’s arm. It was exceptional fun except for when a fat lord stood on her foot and pinched her on the backside. Nikolas Cosara saw the incident and rescued her.
Esta smiled up at him as they danced. “Thank you, Admiral.” He was something to look at with his remarkably broad shoulders, an imposing figure tonight in black tunic and mask with a silver-edged cape. His eyes were turquoise and his lips very full for a man.
He smiled back at her. “The man has no idea how to treat a lady,” he said, guiding her expertly around the floor. He was a good dancer for a sailor. Someone had taught him very well. His mother? It was said that he’d had a normal childhood and had been made a lord by his cousin, Queen Adriana. “You dance as light as a feather, lady.”
“Why, thank you,” Esta said, her face heating beneath the mask.
“You are obviously a local as you know who I am. That gown is stunning, by the way. It has caught my wife’s eye and she has asked me to find out where you got it.”
“My aunt made it.” Esta didn’t wish for Nikolas to know her identity and hoped he would let the matter drop.
“Well, Merielle is going to want to know your aunt. Who is she?”
Dammit! He had to ask.
“If I tell you, I break my cover for tonight. You wouldn’t make a lady do that would you, Admiral?”
He smiled. “I don’t think it fair that you know my identity and hide yours. My wife will kill me when I return empty-handed.”
“I’m sure you can handle your wife, Admiral.” The music stopped and Esta stepped back. “Thank you for the dance.” She walked away before he could reply. As she crossed to the buffet tables, her eyes met those of a man in a beautiful dark grey tunic with gold braid on collar and cuffs. A shiver ran down her spine and she averted her gaze. Who was he, the tall, brooding stranger in the black and gold mask?
Esta stood and surveyed the food but her mind was not on the task. She had danced with many fine-looking men this night but none had the magnetism of this one. She poured herself a goblet of mulled wine and sipped the warming drink until her nerves settled. His eyes were still upon her, she could feel them. Esta chanced another glance to where she had last seen him but he was gone.
Sam prowled the edges of the room, restless in his body and soul. In this room, there was someone who knew the identity of his mother. There had to be. He had spent three weeks searching out information on the girl, Vitavia, and discovered she had moved north toward Wildecoast. He had spoken to every common man and woman he could and had learned very little.
Some he had talked to said Vitavia had married and moved on. Others said they had known her and she had had more children. None could remember her last name or the name of her supposed husband or his occupation. Now it was time to seek the nobility and discover if his mother had worked for one of them.
He had attracted the interest of one or two ladies during the evening as he had chatted around the room but none had caught his attention until the lady in the green dress. She was magnificent, her very presence calling to him in a primal way. His eyes were drawn to her, followed her around the room and he had enjoyed stalking her. But now she had noticed him was it time to strike or flee? He could do with a midnight fling and masks banished inhibitions as nothing else could. Hell, if anyone knew his true identity he’d be clapped in irons and in a cell faster than he could spit.
From his enquiries during the evening, the admiral of the King’s fleet was here. He had been pointed out; a tall man with enormous shoulders and blond tangled locks. His wife was a beautiful redhead who also drew Sam’s eye but for different reasons. She seemed exotic, as though she didn’t belong, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. They were a striking couple but Sam had no desire to get any closer than a room away.
The same could not be said for the lady in green. He was drawn to her like metal to a lodestone and was not inclined to ignore his instincts on this occasion. If his luck ran as it normally did, she could be the link to finding his mother.
Sam prowled the ball room as the woman in question turned this way and that, trying to locate him. He kept groups of people between him and her until he stood directly behind her. His heart pounded as he reveled in the thrill of the chase, a feeling usually reserved for hunting ships at sea. He stepped closer until he stood behind her left shoulder.
“For whom do you search?” Sam growled into her ear.
Esta spun at the voice and found herself gazing up into the masked face of the man with the gold-braided tunic. He was taller than she had predicted and his eyes were more piercing. A familiar niggle stirred at the base of her skull.
She took a step backward. “I search for no one, sir.”
“May I have this dance?”
Esta swallowed hard at the thought of his arms around her. Was this her evening of excitement, her deserved treat, who stood before her? He certainly seemed to fit the bill. She nodded because she had no voice.
He grasped her hand and led her onto the dance floor. A waltz played and the man drew Esta into his arms, guiding her skillfully past the other dancers. She looked up at him once but his eyes were so intense that she focused instead on his chest, allowing the gold braiding to mesmerize her. What would happen when the dance was over? Would he slip from her life as quickly as he had arrived?
She glanced up at him again and found his eyes still upon her.
“You are beautiful tonight, my lady,” he said. “No one can hold a candle to you. I find myself wishing I could see the woman behind the mask.”
His voice was familiar;
a deep husky tone that sent shivers through her whenever he spoke. Her nerve endings were primed to respond to this man and Esta wondered what it would be like to kiss those sensual lips, to feel those roughened palms on her skin.
Calluses! He had calluses on his palms. That spoke of a man of physical labor. Or perhaps a swordsman? She realized she hadn’t answered him.
“Ah, I don’t think that would be a very wise idea.” She focused on his cravat. “Your voice is familiar, have we met?”
His hands tightened on her body. “I doubt it very much. I don’t spend much time here at court.”
“I could swear we’ve spoken.” She allowed her eyes to wander to his face, taking in green eyes, strong jaw and sensuous lips that curved mockingly. There was something so familiar about him, not only his voice but the man himself. She frowned, willing the connection to come but try as she might, she drew a blank.
The music finished and the man released her, took her hand in his once more and led her back to where he had found her.
He bowed. “Thank you for the dance, my lady. I hope you have a good night.”
With that he was gone, pushing through the crowd. Again the prodding familiarity surfaced. The way he walked… And then it hit her. Samael Delacost! It was Samael Delacost! Esta drew a deep breath, her heart leaping in her chest like a fish deprived of water. What was he doing here? She grabbed her skirts and ran after him, driven by a desire to speak with him, to find out why he was here. Her steps faltered when she passed through the doors to the balcony. What would she say when she caught him? He didn’t know her identity and that was how she wished it to stay.
She turned to go back inside but froze when she saw him leaning against the wall outside the balcony doors. Too late to flee!
“Lady Moonlight, I presume?”
If her heart had pounded before, his accusation nearly burst it right from her chest.
The Lady and the Pirate Page 6