Captive Embraces (38 page)

“Take him out of here before you embarrass the lot of us. Wherever you found him, take him there and leave him,” she demanded imperiously. “I won't have two drunks in my house. This instant, Regan!” she said, stamping her foot.

Regan swiveled and almost lost his balance. “Did you hear what . . . she ... said? I'm to take you all the way back to Batavia.”

“What does she know?” Dykstra slurred as he reeled behind Regan to a large overstuffed chair. “What kind of brothel is this; there's no liquor. For shame,” he leered at Camilla. “You'll never do any business this way. Is she the keeper of this establishment?” he asked Regan in a low whisper.

Regan shrugged. “Fetch my friend some rum,” he ordered Camilla.

“Fetch it yourself,” she snapped. “I've never been so ashamed.”

Regan assumed his full height and wobbled slightly on his legs. “And how do you think I feel; here I bring my friend home and he thinks you run a whorehouse?” He wagged a finger under Camilla's nose and reached for her. Nimbly, she sidestepped his outflung arm and moved away.

“You're drunk,” she hissed. “Father was right, you do love your rum!”

“Regan, you sly fox, you didn't tell me this was a father-daughter enterprise. How grand. Now where in the hell are the rum and women?” he asked, struggling to his feet.

“Get him out of here,” Camilla said through clenched teeth.

“Captain Dykstra brought me money from Batavia. Do you still want me to take him out of here?” Regan demanded, his eyes narrowed. “Enough money to pay your bills for another month.”

Camilla reconsidered for a moment. “All right,” she acquiesced, “but have him back where he belongs before I get home. Enjoy your own soused company,” she sniped as she closed the door behind her.

“You bastard,” Dykstra shouted. “The only woman to be seen and you let her get out the door. Now, what are we going to do?” he cried pitifully.

Regan thumped his friend on the back and grinned. “No loss, she's not for the likes of you ... or me. I think we should sleep off this drunk, Dykstra. I don't think either of us could take a woman in this condition. Come with me and I'll find you a bed.”

“Speak for yourself, you son of a bitch,” Dykstra shouted as he followed Regan. “You're burned out, an old man,” he needled. “You lost a good and beautiful woman and you live in a house of ill repute run by a father and daughter. I never heard anything so disgusting in my whole life,” he said piously. “Never.”

“Just shut the hell up, Dykstra, and mind your own affairs. I'm not an old man and I'm not burned out. And I didn't lose Sirena. I can have her anytime I want her. All I have to do is snap my fingers and she'll come running.”

“Ha! And what will Polly what's-her-name say to that?”

“Dykstra, didn't you learn anything. Any man whose had a hole in his ear is superior to all others. It's a sign of virility.”

“Bastard, you made that up,” Dykstra said, falling on the bed. He was asleep immediately. Regan leaned over, lost his balance and laid down next to his friend. Loud, erratic snores permeated the room for hours.

 

Lord Farrington amused himself by shuffling a pack of playing cards. His thoughts worked as quickly as his nimble fingers. A pall seemed to be settling over him, and it was an effort to quiet his racing mind. Who was torturing him this way? What could anyone want with him? For the first time in his gambler's life he had landed in a safe berth, and now he was about to be tossed into the swelling, churning sea.

A strong gust of wind came up and the cards scattered over the deck. Dropping to his knees, he noticed a slim pair of ankles boarding the ship. A foolish look on his face, he rose to acknowledge the young woman who asked for Caleb. With a mischievous smile, Farrington escorted her to Caleb's quarters. A haughty look about her, she thanked him and entered the room, carefully shutting the door in his face.

The lord smirked to himself. If the young rascal weren't careful, he would find out he bit off more than he could chew. The lovely thing with the ravishing ankles belonged to Caleb's father and somehow he didn't think Regan would take lightly to Caleb playing games with his wife.

 

Regan woke first, his mouth dry and his tongue cottony. He shook Dykstra out of his stupor, then called the servants to administer to them both. An hour later, they descended the steps in preparation for an evening aboard the
Sea Siren.

“That was some bout we both had,” Dykstra laughed. “I seem to remember getting here but not much else. Tell me, Regan, how is it that Caleb opened a gambling ship? And, I believe, you told me it was the infamous Siren's ship he is using.”

Regan shrugged. “Bought it from a harbor master in Spain. I would think when the Siren retired from the seas she would have her ship in Cádiz and moved on to other interests.”

Dykstra looked at Regan suspiciously, but said nothing.

“I've been toying with the idea of going into business with Caleb. I have something I want to talk over with you when we get aboard. I'm glad you came, my friend. I was at a low ebb when you walked through my office door. It's not a pretty story, but I need another ear for now. I would appreciate your unbiased opinion, Dykstra.”

Captain Dykstra frowned. They had been friends for quite a number of years. It was obvious something was bothering Regan. Was he in some kind of financial trouble? He remembered the lightened look in Regan's eyes at the mention of the profits from the nutmeg crop. “Regan, I wanted to tell you something, but when we were in the offices, the rum made me forget. I can't swear to it, but I think I saw Dick Blackheart on the wharf when I debarked. He spotted me staring at him. He seemed as though he were defying me to acknowledge him. He walks with a stiff leg and his left arm is damaged, but his face is still as hateful as ever. I would swear that it was him. I figured to myself that after the Siren ran him through he made off somehow and managed to make his way back here to his homeland. Have you seen him or heard that he's about?”

Regan was stunned. “I saw the Siren kill him with my own eyes!”

“Did you see him die or did you see her injure him and toss him overboard?” Dykstra asked.

“Neither,” Regan answered shortly. “Things were wild. The Siren was ordering her wounded and my own to be tended. I suppose he could have gotten off the ship. For both our sakes, I hope you're wrong, Dykstra.”

“So do I,” the captain mumbled to himself.

“Here we are. What do you think of her?” Regan said, pointing to the twinkling lanterns that outlined the ship in the hazy fog.

Captain Dykstra nodded. “An impressive sight. Did the boy do all of this on his own?” At Regan's affirmative nod, he fell in line to board the ship behind a long string of people chattering like magpies.

“I don't think my gut can take any more rum today; let's just head for the tables and see how our luck is running,” Regan suggested. “What's your fancy, Dykstra, cards or dice?”

“I think I'll take a crack at the dice,” the captain grinned.

“See that man at cards, the one who's scowling? He's Sirena's new husband,” Regan said coolly. “He's also my father-in-law.” Dykstra shot his friend a grim glance, but said nothing. “You can tell by the look on his face he's on a losing streak.” What in the hell was going on, Regan wondered as he threw the dice and watched the tiny dots appear.

Midway through the evening, his pockets empty, Regan stepped back to study the milling gamblers as they tossed money on the round tables with gay abandon. Women dressed in their finest, their jewels sparkling in the glowing lamplight, squealed with delight at every toss of the dice or flick of the cards. He felt his eyes drawn time and again to Stephan Langdon. It seemed his luck had turned for the better. Regan noticed a deft movement of Stephan's. Caleb, who was standing behind Stephan, was obviously angry. He nodded his head slightly to Lord Farrington and moved away from the wild activity Stephan was creating. Regan grinned to himself. Langdon was a card cheat and Caleb had found him out and was about to inform the lord. It would be interesting to see what happened.

Captain Dykstra tired of the dice and sauntered over to Regan, a glass of wine in his hand. “How much did you lose?” he asked quietly.

“Enough,” Regan answered curtly. “Watch,” he said as Caleb walked over to Sir Stephan and whispered in his ear. Even in the dim light, Regan could see the man's eyes were alarmed and indignant. He laid down his hand, picked up his money and followed Caleb.

“What is it I'm supposed to be watching?” Dykstra asked.

“Caleb just caught a card cheat who happens to be my father-in-law and Sirena's new husband. It will be interesting to see how my son handles the situation.”

“If he's smart, he'll give him a warning and let it be known that from this point on he's going to be observed sharply. I'll say one thing for you, Regan. Wherever you are, there's always some sort of trouble brewing. Do you think the boy can manage it or should we give him a hand?”

“For now, let's let him have his head. He's got his partner to help him if he runs into difficulty. If the boy doesn't panic, he'll be all right.”

“I'll stake you to a game of faro,” Dykstra said affably as he withdrew a sheaf of bills for Regan's inspection. “Keep your eyes out for a comely wench for me.” Regan laughed as his eyes circled the room. He was glad Sirena wasn't in evidence. If word got back to her of Stephan's escapade, he wondered what she would do. A ripple of apprehension washed over him as he picked up the cards.

Stephan Langdon stood on the deck, his stance arrogant. “Whatever you called me out here for had better be important,” he said coldly.

“Oh, it is,” Lord Farrington said in exactly the same manner. “Cal caught you cheating with cards tucked in your sleeve.”

“What a dastardly lie!”

“Then what do you call this?” Caleb demanded as he handed over two identical cards.

“How am I supposed to know. I could call you out for this humiliating experience.”

“That won't be necessary”, Lord Farrington said suavely. “From now on, one of us will be watching you every time you come here. We had no wish to embarrass you in front of your friends, that's why we asked you out on deck. The next time we will show no such courtesy, but will make an example of you in front of the others. This,” he stated, “is just a friendly warning. It would be wise if you left now and didn't come back for a while. There might have been someone other than Cal who saw what you did.”

“This is despicable,” Stephan snarled. “You, sir, are a cur of the worst sort. Believe me, I will not forget this. A cheat indeed! I believe you maintain a crooked operation and are using me as an excuse to cover your own dastardly ways.”

“Perhaps you would like to go inside and make that accusation in front of the rest of the patrons,” Caleb said in a deadly voice. “Then we could retaliate with our charges against you. It was a foolish thing you did.”

Stephan bristled and then looked into the cold faces of the partners. Whatever he was about to say remained unvoiced, and he left the ship.

“You have a good eye, Cal,” Lord Farrington said, thumping Caleb on the back. “It was bound to happen sooner or later and this was as good a time as any. In the future, if Langdon comes here, one of us will have to keep a vigil over him. I've seen episodes where men were killed on the spot for cheating. Gambling,” he said virtuously, “is an honorable profession. One does not cheat. Our venture is too new for us to have a scandal. Keep your eyes open, Cal, and keep me informed.”

“Damn it to hell,” Caleb muttered under his breath. Of all the men in the world it had to be Regan's father-in-law. How was he going to explain it to Camilla when he next saw her? His shoulders squared, he grinned in the dim light. He shrugged; he didn't have to explain anything he didn't want to. It was as simple as that.

Thoughts of Camilla were pleasant for the moment, but before long a frown settled over his face. Bedding Regan's wife was something he couldn't come to terms with. When Regan came aboard this evening, he had felt so guilty he could not look at his father. What would Sirena say if she knew Stephan had been caught cheating at cards? Should he warn her or leave it alone? He decided to leave it alone. He would keep his promise not to interfere in either Regan's or Sirena's affairs.

 

Stephan stormed his way into the house and up the stairs to Sirena's room. Not bothering to knock, he thrust open the door and shouted for Sirena to get up and join him in the ballroom.

“Are you out of your mind?” Sirena snapped. “It's after midnight and I'm tired.”

“I won't ask you again, my dear,” Stephan said, leaning over the bed and leering down at her. “Now!” There was no mistaking the vicious mood he was in.

“Give me time to dress and I'll join you in a few moments,” Sirena said, sliding from the bed.

“Your nightdress will do nicely. I'll be waiting for you, so don't tarry.”

Sirena looked around wildly for some form of escape. What did he plan for her this time? Something must have happened aboard the gambling ship. Afraid to delay any longer, Sirena crept from the room and descended the stairs to meet Stephan. She watched in horror as he lit one candle after another till the immense room was bathed in yellow light. She drew in her breath when Stephan walked over to her and held out a rapier. “I'm going to teach you how to fence,” he said in a calm, though bitter voice.

“At this time of night?” Sirena demanded incredulously.