“Wesley, how soon can the Sea Diamond be ready to sail?” her father asked. “I want Darla taken to Dundhragon and put under Lord Ewan’s protection.”
“I will not be held prisoner. There have been others like Justin with their accusations. I will not let him or anyone else make me cower or make me a victim.” She took a step forward. “I will move about with caution, but I will not hide.”
Wesley turned her toward him.
“That is admirable, but Justin didn’t threaten to use words against you. He threatened to use his knife.” Wesley turned away from her and faced her father. “I agree that for her safety, Darla needs to leave Ellenbeich. With the pirates attacking our ships, we need the protection of the Sea Diamond. We cannot risk taking Darla in a birlinn. Richards should be back from Dunvegan with the Sea Diamond in two days. I’ll have the ship ready to sail on the morning tide the day after.”
She glanced at her mother who stood close. Her father’s face was ghostly pale. Wesley had no right to scare her parents. She whipped around to tell him this was none of his concern but froze.
Fear, stark and vivid glittered in his eyes, along with a good dose of anger and determination.
How did she let her temper get the best of her? She knew better than to threaten Justin.
“Your father received news from Lord Ewan summoning you to return. Your leaving will not appear to be unnatural.”
“I’ll go to the tavern to hear what grumblings are bantered about. Hopefully, we can stop rumors before they start,” her father said and moved toward the door.
“I’ll go with you,” Wesley said.
“You have my thanks,” she said in a soft voice before he walked out. A flash of understanding lit his eyes.
“Lock the door behind us. Keep the candles out down here.” Wesley followed after Maxwell.
She closed the door after they left and put the bar in place.
“You shouldn’t have said anything. These are very superstitious people.”
Her mother was right. Darla sighed. “I know.”
“I’m glad Wesley went with your father and that he’s taking you to Dundhragon. I don’t trust anyone else.” Her mother gave her a smile and went up the stairs. She stopped and turned toward Darla. “Think about what your father said. I’ll be in my room.”
The shouting was over. The men were gone. She stood alone in the entryway, the stark silence deafening. Her home was under attack and her father was off to defend the family. She had no idea what role Wesley played. Why was he here? Why did he appear to care about her? She had no answers.
She went into the library and sat at the table. No candles, no working on the necklace.
“As above, so below. As within, so without. I ask that no one raise an arm and that no one comes to harm. So mote it be,” she rocked back and forth as she chanted over and over.
She had no visions of what her father and Wesley faced. Just black emptiness. Only Dundhragon filled her mind.
Lord Ewan’s summons could only mean one thing. He’d found a suitor for her. The idea of an introduction pleased her parents and she understood her obligation.
She left the library and climbed the staircase to her room, her feelings jumbled. Her thoughts filled with Wesley’s soft touch, his teasing words, their playful conversations, his anger at Justin, and his face in the vision.
From the top of the stairs, she looked down at the entry floor. The different colors of the spiral mosaics turned and flowed. A dragon. If only her dragon could save her. She moved to her room. Why did she agree to an arranged marriage? How could she hide who she was, a witch? How could she ever think that marrying someone she never met was a good idea? She let out a deep breath. How could she be with anyone but Wesley?
Chapter Ten
Clouds dominated the morning sky with shifting patches of blue sprinkled here and there. Though the clouds were mostly white there was a hint of greyness, a suggestion that rain would play a part in the day. Wesley entered the library and found Darla leaning over the table setting the large pearl in place on the necklace. He bent over her shoulder for a closer look.
“It’s more beautiful than I expected. The pearl teardrop is the right finishing touch. The intricate pattern of the gold frame is wonderful. But the amber stones appear different, more alive, radiant. Like you.”
Darla turned her head toward him. Her mouth lifted in a silent invitation. The quick rise and fall of her chest and the smoky passion in her eyes drove him on.
He leaned closer until he brushed her lips with his. Her eyelids fluttered, then slid closed. Encouraged that she didn’t pull away, he pressed his lips against hers, then gently covered her mouth.
Startled and confused, his planned revenge was inconsistent with the emotional hunger that urged him on. He pulled away from her, he had to. Her eyes remained shut, her lips moist from his kiss, and her face lit with an angelic smile.
She blinked, the passion fading from her eyes, her faint smile held a touch of misery. He didn’t offer an explanation or apology. He wasn’t sorry he kissed her. What he really wanted was more.
“Forgive me. My parents have told me that I’m promised to another,” she said, her voice low and full of regret.
There was no conviction in her words, only sorrow. The grief in her eyes and tremor in her voice, her misery tore at him.
He drew her to her feet and held her close. Her head fit perfectly in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger and stared into eyes damp with tears.
“Shhh. There’s no reason to cry.” He cuddled her head against his chest.
He had spent his days at Maxwell’s side planning and scheduling, and his evenings plotting and scheming against him, against her.
With a gentle hand, she pushed herself out of his embrace and woke him from his thoughts.
“Wesley, please. You should go.”
The last thing he wanted to do was leave. He wanted her to spend time with him, laugh with him, think of no one else but him. His heart squeezed tight in his chest. Who was he fooling? She had no future with him. Once he carried out his plan with Fynn she would hate him forever.
His arms dropped to his sides and she stepped away. He opened the garden door but stood there like a statue, unable to leave.
“Please,” she said, her voice strained.
He stepped outside and closed the door, guilt hit him hard. The garden gate was up ahead. He’d walked away from women before, but never with remorse. Never with his heart broken.
What had happened? These last weeks he got close to the Association members. At first he socialized and befriended each of them to keep them off guard. At the tavern Dollin and Otter kept him laughing about the antics of their sons and the growing beauty of their daughters. Lucas listened for a bit before he went home to his wife and new son. Maxwell joined the group on occasion, without any pretense, and added to the mix.
Everyone was pleased with the success of their arrangement. The pirates harassed them, but the Sea Diamond and training from Lord Ewan’s soldiers enabled the sailors to fight them off. They traded their goods and brought home their profits.
Fynn’s disappearance had Maxwell and Richards guessing and hoping he had moved on to other waters. With each success, the Association grew more self-assured. The more they held off the pirates, the more fearless and overconfident the merchants became, just as Wesley planned.
The Black Opal pirates did their job. They harassed the ships, engaged with the Sea Diamond’s crew, but retreated before it got ugly. Such restraint was not his brother’s strength. It took some doing to make the plan work, but Wesley convinced MacAlpin to take Fynn with him on his mission down the coast. His brother was to be gone long enough for him to have everything ready when Fynn returned for the final attack on the Association set for the day after tomorrow.
At the farthest point of the garden, Wesley glanced over his shoulder toward the house. She was gone. He headed into the vil
lage, his thoughts on what was ahead. Everything was set in place. Victory was within reach. The day after tomorrow, the Association would be broken and Maxwell’s reputation shattered.
He went on in silence and reached the deserted dock. Untying the small boat, he rowed into the channel and let out the sheet. Everything he believed about the Association, Maxwell, and Lord Ewan had been turned upside down. They were all fine men of integrity. The Association partners worked hard to earn a fair living for their families. Maxwell worked with the others finding them funding. Lord Ewan sent his support and supplies.
And Darla. He let out a choked laugh. He was going to leave her devastated. He never wanted to involve her in the first place. She bewitched him and took his heart. Now who was the one ruined?
He pulled the rudder hard, the sail gathering more air, the boat rushed forward. He didn’t see any of the horrors his brother attributed to Lord Ewan and Maxwell. Fynn had to have it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t too late to call everything off.
MacAlpin was the only person he had to worry about. He could repay what was owed to the pirate. It would be a great expense, but he could manage it. The future was looking brighter.
Making amends with the Association would not be easy. He’d explain his debt of honor and work hard to regain their trust. He bowed his head. Once broken, it would be difficult for the men to have faith in him. He wouldn’t be surprised if they hated him.
What would be would be. He took a deep breath of the salty air. Fynn was the person he needed to speak to. His decision made, he let the wind take him down the coast. Finally, he came ashore on Black Island.
“At last. Come, let’s celebrate.” Fynn poured him a very sloppy whiskey, more liquor splashing on the beach than into the glass.
“We’ve won,” Fynn said and poured a drink for himself, then stuffed something in Wesley’s hand.
“There’s nothing to win.” Wesley glanced down. A jeweled necklace. Therese did a fine job making the piece from his description. The stones and pearls she used were good. The gold frames were neat, but the piece Darla crafted was superior. Side by side, this one would be a poor copy.
“There is plenty to win. Satisfaction. You’ll make each of them suffer the way our father did.”
“Let it be, Fynn. Maxwell is too well financed.” He dropped the necklace at the pirate’s feet.
“Maybe you have forgotten our oath to Father, the look in his eyes begging us to avenge his death. We’ve come too far and are too close to our goal to stop now.” Fury and hatred smoldered in Fynn’s eyes. He picked up the jewelry and tucked it in Wesley’s pocket.
“You haven’t got a choice. The crew and I followed your orders, let everything slip through our fingers on the promise this last shipment would be our treasure, the cargo along with the real necklace. You think it was easy keeping the men in line? Against my better judgment, I stayed off the Black Opal and traveled as a second hand on MacAlpin’s ship. Don’t make me regret trusting you. Don’t make any of us regret trusting you. I can’t guarantee the results. Why this change of heart?” He downed another drink and eyed Wesley as if he was coming to some great decision. “It’s the girl. I saw the way you protected her. The girl’s a witch. Did you know she gelds men?” Fynn put a protective hand on his crotch.
The hairs on the back of Wesley’s neck stood up at Fynn’s deadpan expression.
Maxwell and Richards had men gathering information and reported no one had mentioned Justin and Darla’s encounter. Gelding? How did Fynn find out? Directly from Justin and his friend? It would be like Fynn to put Justin up to this type of attack, incite him to action and wait for the repercussions.
“Do you think Maxwell will welcome you with open arms when he finds out you’re his enemy’s son, after what you’ve done? How you planned the Association’s downfall?” Fynn threw his hands into the air. “If he doesn’t kill you, Lord Ewan will. Once we’re finished in Ellenbeich, we target his holy lordship. He never questioned Maxwell when he betrayed our father.”
“You must be drunk or crazy. Lord Ewan’s had the power to do away with us from the start. Why do you think MacAlpin hasn’t come this far north?”
Fynn didn’t listen. His mind was off somewhere. Wesley could almost predict what he would say next. A drunken stupor always brought it on.
“After we’re finished in Ellenbeich, we’ll make plans to destroy Ewan. He took our home. He took everything from us. Our father was a good man,” Fynn said. He plopped himself in front of a boulder and leaned back. “He never complained, never blamed me even when he knew I was guilty.”
“You’ve had enough. Let me have the bottle.” He stood a few paces away and poured out the liquid. “When you get like this, everything becomes your fault, from the outgoing tide to the reason we left Dundhragon. Maxwell and the others are nothing like you’ve said. What would make them turn against Father? I thought …”
Fynn leaned against the large rock with his eyes shut and his mouth open. He droned on with snorts and grunts that sounded like a raging storm.
“Fynn.” He shook him. “Wake up.” He shook him again.
His brother fell over onto the sand. It was no use trying to wake him.
Wesley got into his boat and headed back to Ellenbeich.
Regret washed over him like the long slow waves on a shallow beach. If he moved forward with this plan there would be no way back, no way to make it right.
Darla sat up in bed, jarred from her sleep by the crash of breaking glass. She listened but heard nothing. It must have been a dream. She lay down, pulled the blanket around her, and closed her eyes.
Barely asleep, flashes of Wesley danced in her mind, his smile, his touch, and his laugh. She took a deep breath eager to smell the clean ocean fragrance she associated with him. Her nose twitched. Her eyes opened and she sniffed the air.
In three steps she was out of bed and into the hall. Her mother was at her door, her father already down the stairs. At first she didn’t know what to think, until she saw a grey mist coming up the stairs. Panic rose in her throat and her mouth went dry. The house was on fire.
“Both of you go down the back stairs and into the garden,” he shouted.
“Father—”
“Now, Darla. Go with your mother.” He covered his face with a cloth and was lost in the haze.
Her mother threw a shawl around her shoulders and pulled her down the stairs, out the back, and away from the house. She searched the dark smoke for any sign of fire and was relieved to find none. Soldiers manned a bucket line. Water thrown on the still hot building hissed and spewed billows of white clouds that enveloped the house.
“More water,” her father bellowed. The men shouted and moved their buckets faster from the well to the library.
She didn’t know how long she stood with her mother watching and waiting. Finally, her father, covered in soot walked out of the haze.
They both ran to him.
“It’s all right Keira. The fire is out.” He pulled Darla to his side, his arm around her shoulder. “We put out the fire before it did much damage. Only the library was affected. I’ve set guards around the house. We’ll clean up in the morning when we can see the full extent of the damage.”
Look who’s here. The witch, echoed in her head. There was no way for her to deny what happened. Her thoughtless action gave evidence to the whispered rumors. She hated herself for putting her parents in danger.
“I’m sorry,” she said to her father, her face buried in his shoulder.
“Shhh, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Come, it’s back to bed for all of us.” She walked back to the house with her parents.
Wesley entered the library and nearly staggered at the acrid odor of smoke. “What happened?”
Maxwell raised his head from the documents that littered his desk. Darla sat nearby making the last adjustment to the necklace.
“I hope you bring news of the Sea Diamond. I’m anxious to leave.” Maxwell, his head down kept workin
g.
“The Sea Diamond has been sighted and will dock this afternoon. We sail tomorrow on the morning tide. What happened?” he asked. From the charred wood around the windows and door it was obviously a fire, but why? Who? Fynn? The thought tore at his insides.
Wesley looked out the window at the pile of charred books and papers.
This couldn’t be Fynn’s work. He stuck to raising hell on the water. An uneasy feeling crept over his shoulders.
Darla stood and lifted the box.
Wesley stared at the word etched into the table. Witch.
This wasn’t an attack against Maxwell or the Association. It was revenge for Darla’s curse.
“I’ll prepare the ship to leave on the evening tide. Has anyone seen Justin or one of his pack lately?” Wesley asked.
“Not that I know. Speak to Richards when he gets in. He has his way of finding out.”
At the moment, the weather looked good. The sun beat down, making it hotter than usual. Clouds raced across the sky. Small white caps could be seen dancing in the water even from the library window. Every sailor read the sky. This morning’s red sky did not bode well for a sea voyage. They would be in for a storm. The sooner they left the better.
The clatter of Darla’s box of tools tumbling to the floor caught him by surprise.
He knelt and covered her trembling hands with his and returned the scattered bits and pieces to the box and set it on the table. He needed to get Darla away from the room, away from the accusation etched into the table.
He shot Maxwell a glance. The man understood the gravity of the situation.
Maxwell wiggled his fingers and sent them on their way.
With her hand tucked around his arm, he opened the garden door and pulled her past the men removing the charred debris.
Acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world, he led her toward the walk along the cliff. As they moved from the shelter of the garden into the open area, wind tugged at her skirt and his jacket. The smell of the salty air cleansed the smoke from his nostrils.
The Pirate’s Jewel Page 11