Raven Quest

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Raven Quest Page 10

by Jo Ann Ferguson


  Nathan squeezed her hand as he turned. “Now that all of you have seen she is awake, I think she should have some quiet to regain her strength.”

  Guillermo was not willing to be banished so readily. “Rory, may I—?”

  “No,” she whispered. She must speak with Nathan about what she had seen. They must leave Havana immediately.

  “Rest,” murmured Padre Fernando as he put his hand on his great-nephew’s arm. “Rest, my child. We shall visit when you feel better. My friend?” he added to Ernest.

  “Aye, ’tis time two old men had a chat.”

  “Old?” Padre Fernando laughed, and the years fell from his face. As he walked with Ernest out of the room, the sounds of camaraderie wafted behind them.

  Guillermo moved instead toward the bed. He avoided Nathan by walking to the opposite side. Taking Rory’s hand, he raised it to his lips. When she snatched it from him with all her limited strength, he frowned. Without a word, he spun on his heel and left.

  Rory sagged against the pillows as Nathan motioned for Nicte to leave. The maid nodded when Rory smiled and seconded the motion. Nicte must not hear this, even though they were speaking in a language she could not comprehend.

  “Yellow Hal?” asked Nathan, sitting on the bed.

  “I saw him.” She gripped his arm.

  He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I saw him and the Blindman in the marketplace.”

  With a chuckle, Nathan smoothed the cloth across her head. “Just before you fainted?” His voice gentled. “Rory, sun sickness can make you see things that aren’t there. Just as it can make you feel cold when it’s hot.”

  “I was shivering.” She closed her eyes. “But it was so real.”

  “Would the Blindman be in Yellow Hal’s company?”

  “Not by choice.”

  “It was just a trick of the sun’s heat, sweetheart.” His lips brushed her cheek. “Padre Fernando is right. You need to rest now.”

  She was going to reply, going to tell him that her uneasiness remained, but he stood and went out on the balcony. When she saw his tight fists on the rail, she realized she had not asked him about his meeting with the sailor Simon. He hung his head, and she knew she need not. Another dead end in his search. She wondered where they would go from here.

  Ten

  Rory held tightly to the banister as she descended the stairs for the first time in almost a week. The sun sickness had truly sapped her strength. Even walking from her bed to the balcony had left her weak for several days. Nicte refused to let her sit on the balcony until the sun was past its zenith. Rory suspected Nathan had ordered that.

  She touched the lace mantilla that he had brought her yesterday. “For your next trip out into the sun,” he had said with a smile and a kiss that would have taken her breath away even if she had not been breathless from crossing the room to greet him.

  Now the hours of siesta were past, and the house was coming alive for the evening. She could not linger in her rooms. Each step tentative, she walked out into the gardens. She was delighted to see Ernest there. He had not come to visit her for the past few days, and Nathan’s terse answers told her that Ernest was still searching for information.

  “Good evening,” she said, smiling. She sat on the tiled border of a row of flowers. “I didn’t expect to see you when Nathan told me he might be late for dinner this evening.”

  “Should you be up?”

  Her smile broadened. Ernest reminded her of the Blindman, always fretting about her. “I am fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  “And don’t worry about the cap’n, Miss Rory. He had another meeting with our friend Simon. The cap’n and I doubt if Padre Fernando is going to be able to get us the information we need. That’s why we’ve been doing a bit of looking about ourselves.”

  “If you don’t think he will help us, then why don’t we go back to the Vengeance?”

  “Our host is a very powerful man. Padre Fernando’s name keeps de Palma and his cronies away from us.”

  Rory nodded. Now she understood why neither Nathan nor Ernest seemed upset that Padre Fernando had given them no help. They were playing a game with Rory Mullins caught in the middle.

  Turning when she heard footsteps on the tiles, she saw Guillermo instead of Nathan. She sighed. Although she kept her false smile in place, she tensed as she used to when she had opened Yellow Hal’s place each day. She must be prepared for trouble.

  “Here you are, mi querida,” gushed Guillermo, then frowned. “How are you, Señor Dawes?”

  “Good evening, Guillermo.” She endured him bowing over her fingers. He caressed them with eagerness, and she slipped them out of his.

  “Where is Captain Lawler this evening?”

  “He is out. He should be back soon.” Ernest’s smile broadened as she said, “Here he comes. Good evening, Cap’n.”

  Walking to meet him, Rory took his hands in hers. He lifted one to his lips, sending tingles along her. Then, with a smile, he pulled her into his arms as his mouth slanted across hers. All thoughts vanished as she tasted the splendid fire of his lips. When his hands tightened to press her closer, she gave a soundless gasp of yearning. Her knees grew weak as he tantalized her mouth, seeking to relearn its every secret.

  Slowly, he released her but kept his hands on her waist as she wobbled. A slow grin spread across his face. It told her that even though he might be obsessed with this hunt for the Raven, she remained in his thoughts and in his dreams.

  “You look well, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing a stray hair back from her cheek. “And you taste even better.”

  “Did you have a good day?”

  “Not especially, but I hope to have a wonderful night.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  He whispered against her ear, “Leave your balcony door open, sweetheart.” He raised his voice to add, “Holding you is my only pleasure.” His fingers stroked her cheek tenderly. “And how was your day?”

  Before she could answer, Guillermo intruded with fury. “Lawler, it is so kind of you to arrive just in time for our dinner.”

  Nathan smiled. “I have learned not to be late for any free meal.”

  “You are rude beyond what a gentleman should tolerate, Lawler,” warned Guillermo in a tight voice. “Do you treat Rory this basely as well, fearing that she will discover there is more to life than a man who cares more for his own adventure than for her?”

  “And you are what is more, Herrera y Fallas?”

  “Can you offer her what I can? This house and all my great-uncle’s wealth will be mine when he dies.” He turned to Rory and smiled. “Here, she can have her dreams. A house with flower gardens and servants to respond to her slightest demand and a man who would love her more than anything in his life. That is what you want, isn’t it, my dear?”

  She did not know how to answer him. When had she told him about her dreams? She could remember too little of what they had spoken of in the marketplace.

  “Rory!”

  She looked at Nathan. Shock was bare on his face. Tempted to tell him that it was not easy to give up her dreams when he refused to include her in his, she said, “Stop it, both of you! The decision is mine, and I will be leaving with my friends on the Vengeance, Guillermo.”

  “Don’t be foolish, mi querida!”

  “I’m going. I owe that to my father.” She walked to a fountain and held up her hand to the mist of its spray. “I came on this voyage to flee my past. Now I want to find it.”

  A bell sounded, announcing dinner. When Nathan’s hand settled on her shoulder, he said, “I’m sorry. I should not force you between me and that pompous jackass.”

  She nodded and took his arm as he led her into the dining room. She did not look at Guillermo but knew he was scowling. What else could she say to persuade him that her foolish heart longed to be Nathan’s?

  Padre Fernando did not allow any silence as he began to debate with Ernest the colonization of the Caribbean. “Only Spain,�
� he asserted, “has made valuable use of the lands she has settled. The French and the English place gentleman farmers and trappers in the north, while Spain has gathered the richest land of all into her sphere.”

  “The Spanish are raping the lands they have settled,” stated Ernest coldly. “Your conquistadores battle with the natives and steal their gold and silver.”

  The crackling laugh of the old man filled the room. “We are the victors. They are the losers. The wise ones have embraced the true faith and accepted their fate.”

  “Someday these slaves will overthrow your chains of bondage.”

  “Not here, but you may be right about Hispaniola. The foolish French allow their slaves to bring their loa with them from Africa.”

  Rory asked, “Loa? What is that?”

  “The loa gods are also called voodoo gods.”

  She sat straighter and glanced at Nathan. His eyes slitted as a satisfied smile curved along his lips. He must have been mistaken about the dying sailor’s words. “Between the low gods and Spain” must be “Between the loa gods and Spain.” Between the loa gods of Hispaniola and Spanish Cuba was the route to seek the coral key of the poem.

  She wanted to jump to her feet and hug both Nathan and Ernest. From their grins, she knew they shared her giddiness. Only one clue stood between them and the discovery of the hidden gold.

  As soon as the meal was finished, she went to where Nathan and Ernest stood at the end of the table. “It must be the third line,” she whispered, as she pretended to take a sip of wine.

  Ernest chuckled. “I told you my friend would help us, Cap’n.”

  “That you did. Now all we need is the final clue.”

  “But not here,” Rory said. “Tomorrow we can leave.”

  “First, I need to meet with Simon once more.” Nathan grinned. “Then we’ll leave, unless you want to stay with your dashing admirer.”

  “Cap’n, Miss Rory,” Ernest whispered. “Take care. If Padre Fernando suspects, he won’t let us leave without promising him a share of what we seek.”

  “He wouldn’t dare!” Rory gasped, enraged.

  Ernest did not reply. His silence spoke louder than any words.

  Rory was eager to retire that evening, for the sooner they went upstairs, the sooner Nathan would come to her. As quickly as she could excuse herself, she did so. Padre Fernando urged her to rest so she might recover fully, but the sweetest medicine she could imagine was Nathan’s love.

  In her rooms, she conveyed to Nicte that she would be having a visitor. The maid was apprehensive until she understood it was Captain Lawler. Then she smiled broadly and left.

  Rory undressed and gathered her pillows around her as she gazed out at the stars poking through the velvet sky. Tomorrow night, she would see them from Nathan’s quarters. She smiled as she imagined the Vengeance rocking in rhythm as she and Nathan came together in ecstasy.

  A click sounded as the latch rose and she smiled. Then she frowned. This could not be Nathan. When he arrived, it would be by way of the balcony, as he had the first night they had been here. Leaning across the wide bed, she opened her bedside drawer and withdrew her knife. She slipped out of bed and hid the knife behind her.

  Candlelight spread into the room. “Mi querida, are you awake?”

  “What are you doing here, Guillermo?”

  He put the candle on a table and smiled. “You look perfect, mi querida.”

  “Mi querida? What does that mean? You have called me that since I arrived.”

  “It means simply ‘my dear.’ It can mean ‘the one I want with all my heart.’” He grinned. “Mi querida.”

  “Stop calling me that! I’m not your sweetheart!”

  He smiled coldly. “You fancy yourself Lawler’s. I have known that from the beginning. Wouldn’t you prefer a man who loves you and will give you all you deserve?”

  “I’m tired, and I refuse to argue about this again. Go away, Guillermo!”

  “Away, mi querida? I have no intention of being anywhere but with you tonight.” He closed the distance between them.

  “Stay away from me. I will not hesitate to use this!” She raised her knife. Her lips tightened. She did not want to cut him, but she would if he came any farther.

  He leaped at her. She tried to escape, but her long chemise and her weak knees betrayed her. Slamming her back against the wall, he held her right wrist over her head as he pinned her to the wall, twisting her left arm behind her. The knife fell from her numb hand.

  As his long fingers brushed her face, she snarled, “Release me!”

  “Mi querida, I want you. And I will have you. I know you are most anxious for the information you asked of my great-uncle. You may have it for a price.”

  “I’m not a harlot! I won’t sell myself for anything.”

  “Marry me, and I will give you the information you want.”

  “Marry you?” she gasped. “You want to marry me?”

  She knew he was ridiculing her as he stated with false chagrin, “You certainly could not have thought that my intentions were less than honorable toward you, Rory.”

  “I don’t want to marry you!” Her words were smothered by his mouth on hers. She fought to escape him.

  “You will marry me tomorrow, if you wish, or later tonight.”

  “No!” she cried. “I won’t marry you. No one will wed us when I do not wish to be your bride.”

  He laughed. “There is one in this house who will marry us as soon as I take you to him. My great-uncle thinks you would be the perfect wife for me.”

  “Nathan will stop you.”

  “If he tries, he will be sorry. You will be mine.” He stroked her face. “I have wanted you since I opened the door of Great-uncle’s room and saw you standing there.”

  His finger slipped to the neck of her chemise. He easily loosened the bow that closed its top and bent to kiss her neck. She tried to escape, but his knee clamped her to the wall.

  “Guillermo, stop!”

  He laughed cruelly as she cried out in horror when he bit her neck. “I have many games to teach you, Rory, games that will bring me pleasure and will teach you to be my submissive wife.”

  “I will never submit to you.”

  “You will, Rory. Eventually you will.”

  Her mouth moved, but no sound emerged as she stared at him laughing again, releasing another bow on the front of her chemise. He wanted her to be a wife who would never deny him his place in her bed and would bring him the children he needed as heir of this house. He wanted her more than Luz because Rory would be harder to bend to his will—and that would increase his pleasure.

  She did not realize she was whispering Nathan’s name in desperation until Guillermo cried, “You speak of another man when I hold you in my arms? You are no better than a whore!” He raised his hand.

  She cringed and closed her eyes, but the blow did not fall. Instead, she was released. She saw Nathan’s hard blow to Guillermo’s chin knock him to the floor.

  “Stand up, mi amigo,” Nathan taunted.

  Guillermo rose slowly and brushed off his clothes.

  Rory rushed to Nathan.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Are you all right? Did he—?”

  Nathan pushed her away as the other man jumped toward them. He went down with Guillermo on top of him. Rory’s scream was shrill when she saw the flash of a knife—her knife—in Guillermo’s hand. She struck his wrist. The knife flew out of his hand, hitting her arm. She gasped in pain but ran to seize the knife before he could.

  Nathan’s fist came up to connect with Guillermo’s gut, then snapped against his face. This time when Guillermo fell to the floor, he did not move.

  Shaking his hand, Nathan went to the washstand. He picked up the ewer and, with a wicked grin and a wink, tipped it over Guillermo’s head. Guillermo sputtered and wiped the water from his face.

  “Get up, mi amigo!” Nathan ordered with a short laugh.

  Guillermo pu
shed himself to his feet. His eyes narrowed in rage as Nathan held out his hand to Rory. The Spanish words he spat out needed no translation.

  “I did not suspect even a cur like you would rape a guest of your great-uncle,” Nathan snarled.

  Wiping blood from his mouth, Guillermo retorted, “I see no ring on her finger, Lawler. There’s no reason why another man cannot woo her away.”

  “You have an odd way of courting a woman. I—”

  The door opened, and Padre Fernando hobbled into the room. He hissed in Spanish at Guillermo, who hung his head. “Captain Lawler,” he continued in English, “I assume that you have rescued Rory from the hands of my great-nephew?”

  “Yes, Padre.”

  “What happened to your arm, my child?”

  She glanced down at the blood on her chemise. “It is only a scratch. I will have Nicte see to it.”

  “I am pleased to hear that. May I speak to you in the gardens tomorrow?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Of course, Padre.” She must not reveal her hopes that they would be leaving Havana tomorrow.

  “Sleep well.” Again, he turned to his great-nephew and spoke to him sternly. Together they went out of the room, and the door had closed for only a moment before it reopened.

  Nicte ran into the room and threw herself at Rory’s knees. Rory took her hands and brought her to her feet. It took Nicte no time at all to understand that they needed salve and bandages for Rory’s arm. Competently, she doctored the wound and bound it.

  When Nicte had gone to her own room, Rory threw her arms around Nathan. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Nathan lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Placing her carefully on the pillows, he tucked her necklace beneath her chemise. He drew it back out and fingered the locket.

  “This is fine gold.”

  “For an urchin?”

  He chuckled. “Where did you steal it?”

  “I didn’t steal it. It was my mother’s.”

  “Your mother’s?” He lifted the locket and examined it, trying to open it and finding it was frozen closed. The goldsmith had not been skilled, for it had been hammered from old gold, and a piece stuck out at an angle. “From your father?”

 

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