Bound By The Heart

by Canham, Marsha

  The Twin Sirens.

  "I look forward to meeting you there, Captain Morgan Wade," he murmured. "More than you can know."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Summer trailed her hand down the iron grillwork that covered the lower half of the window. She was in the sitting room that comprised part of their suite of rooms in the south wing of Government House. The lamps were not lit, and she was curled into the cushions of the window seat, bathed in the glow of moonlight streaming through the open shutters. Her hair was brushed loose and gleamed silver in the soft moonbeams. The vines growing through the grillwork had sprinkled the cushions with fallen jasmine petals, which she collected and set free on the currents of night air. Directly below were the formal gardens with the rows of tall, stately palm trees and flagstone pathways leading to a pond and fountain.

  She sighed and snapped off a fresh blossom.

  This afternoon's confrontation with Farley Glasse had not gone well. She had allowed her temper to get the better of her, a temper that seemed all too unstable of late. There were a number of causes, she supposed. Unavoidable, almost daily discussions wherein Morgan Wade's name was mentioned, kept memories rising to the foreground that she would sooner forget. Those memories came with feelings of guilt. Guilt over what had happened on Bounty Key. Guilt over her accepting marriage as an easy way out. Guilt over what had happened during those three extra nights she had stayed on Bounty Key. Guilt that she could not forget them herself.

  Glasse had known she was hiding something earlier today, she could see it in the ferret eyes. Bennett had sensed it too, just as he had sensed all along...or suspected...there was more to the story of her time spent on Bounty Key. In true, stiff-upper-lip fashion, however, he had not questioned her about the omissions, though she could see, at times, he clearly wanted answers.

  The wedding day itself had been a success. She had played the part of the radiant, happy bride perfectly, with no one suspecting she was on the verge of screaming throughout the entire day. Bennett Winfield had been breathtakingly handsome in his striking blue and white uniform, so tall, so attentive to her every whim. Smooth—that was how she thought of Bennett. His skin was smooth, his voice was smooth, his motions were smooth and cool and precise. Even his lovemaking was smooth and precise, almost perfunctory. She might never have known there was anything missing from their marriage bed, might even have been grateful for the obligatory nature of the act had it not been for those three tumultuous nights and days spent exhausted, drained, and drenched in sweat in Morgan Wade's arms.

  Summer squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to allow the image of her pale naked body eagerly entwined with that of Morgan Wade. That had been someone else, not Summer Cambridge Winfield. That had been a woman drunk on more than just wine, flushed with passion, heady with lust for a man who had introduced her to pleasures she had never known existed. For three days and three nights he had barely let her out of bed, kissing away her guilt, using his lips, his hands, his body to silence her protests and turn her into a sensuous, shameless creature she did not recognize.

  Even now, she could hear him laughing, the sound soft and gentle as he coaxed her body to new heights of pleasure.

  "Now," he had murmured softly. "Now, Governess...let yourself go."

  And she had. She had arched her body up into his and the passion had exploded throughout her body in waves of white-hot ecstasy, her cries smothered beneath his lips as she shuddered and twisted and writhed beneath him.

  Summer sighed and snapped off another piece of the vine.

  He hadn't even said goodbye. He had touched her cheek and let his fingers trail down her throat. Then he had stepped back and chucked Michael under the chin, warning him not to pester Mr. Roarke on the way home. The last glimpse she had of Morgan Wade, he was walking back up the path toward the house; he had not even lingered to watch the Vigilant leave the cove.

  She had been truthful when she said she had no idea what direction the Vigilant had taken after leaving Bounty Key, for she had remained in her cabin for the entire journey home. When the ship dropped anchor in Speightstown she had emerged, resolved to put the memories firmly behind her, to pretend they had happened to someone else, not her. Her return to the familiarity of Government House and her father's unbridled joy at seeing her and Michael alive had almost convinced her it had been a dream. And Bennett, while there was a certain aloofness about him that she had not noticed before, had been the perfect gentleman in every way. She knew there were women on the island bitterly envious of her. She also knew that most arranged marriages were dismal, stilted affairs where both partners were politely civil to each other and simply carried on, so she should be thankful Bennett was more attentive than most. If he did suspect anything was amiss, he did not address it. He simply...carried on.

  She crushed the blossom in her fingers and threw it out the window.

  "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

  Summer gasped and turned around. Bennett was standing in the shadows, his white breeches and starched collar glowing out of the darkness.

  "You startled me. I did not hear you come in."

  "My apologies. I was not making any particular attempt to sneak up unawares."

  He walked over to the sideboard and lifted the glass chimney from a lamp. Summer heard the scrape of a sulphur stick and saw the bright glare as he held the flame to the wick, then lowered the chimney again. The oil smoked greasily for a moment then settled to an even flame, casting a soft yellow light around the room.

  He studied her for a long moment, outlined as she was against the window and the moonlight, then started unfastening the buttons on his uniform as he walked back into the bedroom.

  "The admiral wants me to take the Caledonia out for her sea trials. He is anxious to see the results of my alterations."

  "When will you be leaving?"

  His words were a little slurred as they came through the open door and she realized he must have consumed vast quantities of wine and spirits with her father and the admiral before begging his leave. "Aslop seems to think we can be ready within the week. There are some minor repairs still to be finished...carpentry and such, but they can be done at sea."

  "How long will you be gone?"

  "Several weeks, I should imagine. Long enough to shake her out and test the armaments, drill the men on the new configurations."

  "I see."

  He came back into the room wearing only breeches and a shirt, the latter unlaced and open to the waist. "I'm glad you sound a little sad; it makes me feel as though I will actually be missed."

  "Of course you will be missed," she said, smiling softly. "I am only just getting used to being addressed as Mrs. Winfield. I should have liked a few more months before I had to start explaining where my husband is gone."

  "Your father will see that you are kept busy." He returned to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of wine. When he turned and arched an eyebrow in her direction, she shook her head to decline. "I hope you haven't let that fool Glasse upset you too much."

  "No, not really." After a moment she sighed. "I suppose I have been expecting something like that to happen. He just caught me by surprise, that's all."

  "You stood your ground well enough, wife. And while I might not always approve of what you say in mixed company, you were justified in defying the arrogant little drone. His type are graced with too much power and not enough sense of how to use it. Mind you, I would also have to concur with Admiral Stonekipper: Glasse will make a formidable enemy."

  "I am not a threat to him."

  "Not personally. But your politics are."

  "Politics? I have no politics."

  He belched very softly and stared at his wine glass. "You defended Morgan Wade. He is an American privateer, one who causes us all manner of unwanted aggravation. By defending him, you could be seen as someone who openly denounces our own policies regarding trading rights in the islands."

  "I was doing no such thing. I was merely defending the right
for any man to have justice and a fair trial. Glass has condemned him without the smallest pretence of offering either."

  "Wade hardly deserves applause or sympathy. He is a spy and now, possibly, a cold blooded murderer."

  "There is no proof of that, only Glasse's speculation."

  Bennett shook his head. "I do not intend to stand here and argue with you over the merits—or lack thereof—of a renegade privateer. Not with the moonlight doing such wonderful things to your eyes and your hair." He walked over and pressed his lips to her temple. This close, she could smell the excess of rum and stale cigar smoke on his breath.

  She flinched from the smell, but forced a smile as she looked up at him. "Then you are not angry with me? You are not going to tell me I behaved childishly?"

  "Testily, perhaps." His finger traced a line down her cheek and toyed with a silvery ringlet. "But there is nothing about you, dear wife, that is childish."

  Summer tried not to tense against the feel of Bennett's finger roaming lower along her neck, following the collar of her flimsy robe to the ribbon fastening below her chin.

  "I...hope you have not given in to Michael's constant badgering to be allowed to go to sea with you."

  "Mmm?" The long smooth fingers slipped the knot in the ribbon bow and slowly pulled it free, sending the ends slithering down onto the bodice. "His efforts have been half-hearted at best. I suspect he does not like me overmuch."

  "Michael? How can you say that? He is forever plaguing you with questions."

  "About ships and armaments and naval strategies, he is indeed full of questions. Even some amazing theories. But when it comes time to reciprocate, he becomes remarkably close-lipped. Not unlike his sister, whom he dotes upon."

  Summer felt the robe shift on her shoulder as he gently eased it aside so that his mouth could press wetly into the bared curve.

  "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

  "No? I ask him questions about Wade's ship, I get vague answers at best. Just as when I ask you about Wade—" he lifted his head and peered into her eyes. "That happens."

  "Wh-what happens?"

  He pointed. "The look you have in your eyes right now. That happens."

  "I don't—"

  "It gets worse when I do this—" he cupped a hand around her breast and squeezed. "Or this—" the hand slid down and pressed between her thighs, the action so sudden and so vulgar that she flinched back. Something was changing in his own eyes, something that caused her to take yet another step back.

  "Admit it, wife," he said quietly. "You would deny me if you could."

  Summer flushed and shook her head. "I have never denied you...anything."

  Bennett studied her face as he took another deep swallow of wine. "No. No, you have never denied me the use of your body, but that is all you have given me: The use of it. And as heartfelt and earnest a performance as you gave on our wedding night...I was not the first one to use it."

  "I...I don't know how you can say such a thing, when—"

  "You called out his name."

  "—when I..." Words failed her for a moment. "I did what?"

  He leaned in again and this time when his face came into the moonlight, she could see that his eyes were bloodshot and glittering strangely.

  "You called out the name of another man in my bed."

  "Bennett, I—"

  He raised a hand as if to strike her and Summer cringed back against the wall. His fingers curled into a fist and the look of loathing on his face was horrible to see, but the moment passed and he lowered his arm before he regained his composure and moved a safer distance away.

  "Are you not curious as to why I've not said anything before now?"

  Summer felt her heart pounding within her breast. "Bennett...I am so sorry," she whispered.

  "Are you not curious," he repeated, the words spat out like pellets, "as to why I have not said anything before now?"

  She twisted her hands together and nodded. "Alright. Why?"

  He stared at her coldly. "Perhaps because I didn't want to admit that I had a whore for a wife."

  Summer felt her entire body go cold, all but her eyes, which began to burn with the sting of unshed tears. The cutting cruelty of his words weakened her knees so that she had to sit back down on the window seat.

  "Bennett, please..."

  "Did he rape you?"

  She blinked, startled. "Wh-what?"

  "You are a beautiful woman, Summer. I would have found it difficult to believe that he did not touch you in some way. Any man with half an appetite would have had you beneath him before the seawater dried. I myself was sorely tempted to deliver you of your innocence back in London...and perhaps I should have. At least I would have had the satisfaction of knowing I cheated Wade out of something. So I would ask again: Did he rape you?"

  He was watching her with a steely glint of blue in his eyes, as sharp and piercing as the tip of an executioner's blade. He was offering her an excuse, a way out and for the length of three or four stilted heartbeats, she very nearly took it.

  "No," she said softly. "He did not rape me."

  "I see."

  "Bennett...I can explain."

  "There is nothing you can say that I would wish to hear."

  He turned and walked back through the dressing room. He did not look at Summer again, did not say another word when, a few minutes later, he strode out and slammed the door hard behind him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  September, 1811

  "Oh, there is no mistake, Mrs. Brown, I assure you." Doctor Von Zernak wiped his hands on a square white towel and came around the side of the curtain just as Summer was fastening the ribbon belt of her frock. He was a short, wiry man with a huge split-veined nose that gave him the appearance of a parrot.

  Summer's gaze was fixed out the window. There were people walking outside on the busy street, shopping, strolling, going about their daily business but she did not see them. She had come to a doctor in Speightstown to avoid any undue attention; now she was glad.

  "Mrs. Brown? Mrs. Brown, are you all right?"

  She started at the touch on her arm. "What—?"

  "I know, my dear, sometimes these things come as a surprise. Still, you did say your bodily functions have been awry?"

  "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, but I thought..." She ran out of words. She had thought it was the shock of the shipwreck, the ordeal of floating on the ocean for a day and a night. And the tension. Two months of marriage had produced a great deal of that.

  Doctor Von Zernak frowned. The young woman's reaction was hardly one of pleasure. There was a wedding ring on her finger and her clothes were expensive and fashionable, removing the most obvious conclusion; that she was a silly girl caught unawares. Yet she was not one of his regular patients, which suggested she had deliberately sought out a doctor who would not recognize her. Unfortunately he had seen that more often than not on these islands. A wife left alone far too long by a husband away at sea, or a husband too inattentive to his wife's needs...or simply no husband at all, for there were an abundance of widows in the tropics. This one was young and breathtakingly lovely. He doubted she would lack for company if she found herself lonely.

  He shrugged and scribbled the name of a local alchemists shop, listing a blend of herbs that would ease the internal discomforts.

  "You must take good care of yourself now, Mrs. Brown," he said, handing her the slip of paper. "The aches and queasiness you have been experiencing are quite normal, but we must keep up your strength. You will have to find your appetite again if you want to bring a strong, healthy child into the world."

  Summer smiled, but only half-heartedly.

  "No matter. Babies are remarkably determined at times. Once they conquer the first three months, they often become downright tenacious. I would say you are well out of the danger period, and since you already appear to be reasonably healthy—though a little extra weight would not hurt—I would not worry overmuch about—"

  "What d
id you say?"

  "I beg your pardon? Oh, about the danger...?"

  "No. No, you said...three months?"

  "Why, yes. Judging from the size and position, and your own time-keeping...of course, you can appreciate the difficulty in being precise, but—" he pursed his lips and nodded— "I would say three months at the very least."

  Summer's eyes grew so round they seemed to overwhelm her face. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair so tight, her fingertips stung.

  Three months!

  Three months ago she had not been married, she had not even been in Bridgetown. Three months ago...she had been on Bounty Key...with Morgan Wade!

  "Mrs. Brown?" Von Zernak moved forward, openly concerned. Her face was turning ashen before his eyes and he feared for the delicately carved arms of the chair. "Mrs. Brown, you mustn't upset yourself."

  Her hand reached up suddenly, grasping his hand and he almost yelped.

  "Are you absolutely certain? Is there any way you could be mistaken? Forgive me; I don't mean to question your ability or diagnosis, but you did say there was no way to be precise."

  He gently eased her grip from his crushed fingers and took both her ice cold hands into his. Too many times he had been asked the same question for the same indiscreet reasons and he wished he could tell her anything she wanted to hear other than the hard facts.

  "My dear Mrs. Brown, it is my humble opinion that, barring any unforeseen difficulties, in less than six month's time, you will give birth to the child you are now carrying. You may wish to seek a second opinion, but I suspect they will arrive at the same conclusion."

  Summer sighed and reclaimed her hands from his. "No, that will not be necessary. I believe you; it's just that...I was not prepared."

  "There now." He smiled and tried to sound cheerful. "Nothing extra special in life is ever expected. That is why we refer to them as surprises. And this little surprise you are carrying will bring you more happiness than you might think possible now. You just wait and see."