Pirate's Golden Promise (8 page)

“Touché, dear girl. At last I think you're growing up.” Estelle motioned for her to take a seat, but Wynter refused.

“I should like to speak with Captain Van Linden. I have a business proposition to present to him.”

Estelle pressed a finger to her lips. “A business proposition. How intriguing.”

“Could you please have someone inform him I'm here?”

“I wish I could, my dear, but I'm afraid Cort isn't here.”

Wynter's spirits sank. “Has he gone to sea, then?”

Estelle shook her honey-gold hair. “Hardly. At least not at the present time, but soon I think. You see, dear, he tires of women quite easily.”

“He left you?”

Emitting a long sigh, Estelle sunk onto a cushioned divan. “He isn't the type of man to be pinned down for long by any woman. To be quite truthful with you, I did hope he'd marry me. I gave my foolish heart too easily to him, and he broke it. The last I heard he was staying in the village, at the Fleece.”

“I'm sorry,” Wynter said, though a part of her was pleased that Cort no longer stayed at Lady Montgomery's. “I shall find him at the Fleece, then.”

Estelle jumped up and caught at Wynter's arm. “Be wary of him, Wynter. You're still very young, and if the captain can hurt me, he could very easily destroy you. You see, he makes a practice of eating little girls alive, and when he is finished, there's nothing left of them.”

“I have no intention of becoming involved with him,” Wynter hotly denied.

Waving a long, slender hand in the air, Estelle said, “That's what we all have said. Once Cort Van Linden weaves his charm over you, my dear, you shall become like the rest of the women who have loved him.”

“Good day, your ladyship,” Wynter replied curtly and left the house in a huff.

Really, Estelle was an impossible woman, Wynter thought, and only wanted to upset her because Van Linden no longer wanted her.

Wynter gave the driver directions to take them to the Fleece in the village, and Maddie asked, “Just why are we going to such a place?”

Wynter decided to explain, and when she finished, Maddie looked more disapproving than ever.

Arriving at the front of the inn, recognizable by a painted sign of a white sheep and pair of clippers, Wynter told Maddie to wait in the carriage while she completed her business.

Inside she inquired about the captain, and was told he was in the taproom. Arming herself with a warm, sunny smile and trying not to look as out of place as she felt, she swished into the room. She was pleased to see that he sat by himself. However, just as Wynter approached him, a buxom wench leaned far over his table with a cup of ale in hand.

“There, Captain,” the woman said. “Would you like anything else? Me, for instance. I'm free in an hour's time and can join you for a bit of sport in your room.”

Wynter hid her shock as the captain flashed a white grin at the woman, but he was forced to remove his eyes from her ample cleavage when Wynter came into view.

The answer he intended to give was apparently forgotten when he rose from his chair and ordered the woman to fetch a cup of wine for the lady.

The woman grudgingly left to pour the wine.

“Another conquest, Captain?” Wynter asked bitingly.

“I think you overestimate my charms.”

“Really? Lady Montgomery doesn't. You've left her quite broken-hearted.”

“Estelle is a big girl who knew the rules of the game beforehand. Please,” he motioned for her to take a seat opposite him at the table.

When she had done so, his tawny gaze raked over her in a slow perusal which caused her to blush. He laughed. “You're quite beautiful with your cheeks aflame.”

“I'm not here for your comments on my appearance,” she blurted out. “I've come with a business proposition.”

Leaning back in his seat, Cort looked devilishly handsome in a buff-colored waistcoat and breeches, and for some silly reason Wynter wished to entangle her fingers in the thick blond curls that covered the tips of his ears. She ended her surveillance of him when the tavern maid plopped down the cup of wine.

“I should like to hear it,” he said after the woman left.

Wynter swallowed and rushed on before her courage deserted her. “As I'm certain you already know, my father made no provisions for me in his will. I'm almost penniless, but I wish to buy my father's estate. I hoped you'd lend me the necessary funds.”

“Hmm,” he said, considering. “I also know that your sister married Somerset. Perhaps you should consider asking him for the money. As I recall, he was quite dazzled by your beauty. Perhaps you can use his passion for you to your advantage, for I doubt that you'll be amenable to my terms.”

“I chose to ask you, Captain.”

“Am I supposed to be honored?”

Wynter winced and couldn't help coloring. How insufferable was the man! Well, she wouldn't sit here and be insulted. She started to rise, but he grabbed her wrist.

“Sit down. I apologize.”

Realizing he meant it, she sat back down. “I do need your help, Captain. I have no one else to ask.”

“I see. You're asking for quite a large sum of money. Have you anything you can give me in good faith?”

She hadn't thought he'd require anything. Now that he asked her what she might have to offer him, she took quick mental inventory of her assets. Family jewels, of course. However, Debra kept them locked in a chest in her room, and Wynter didn't believe she'd be amenable to opening it for her in prepayment to the captain. She looked down at the crimson flash between her breasts. Well, why not? she asked herself.

“I'm certain this ruby necklace is worth a great deal. It was my betrothal gift from Adam, and the ring. However, that is at home.”

Cort bent forward and fingered the jewel, his flesh brushing purposely against hers. She stiffened. He dropped the ruby and laughed.

“I have no need for more jewelry. Have you anything else?”

She numbly shook her head. “Nothing, sir, but I promise that if you do lend me the money, I will pay it back.”

Calmly Cort took a pipe from his jacket pocket and bent towards the flickering flames in the hearth to light it. He puffed on it, thoughtfully watching her. Wynter wiggled in her seat, until she was no longer able to stand his eyes upon her. “Captain,” she said at length, “I'd appreciate your reply.”

“You're an impatient creature, but quite beautiful. I shall lend you the money.”

She couldn't believe her ears. How simple it had been! Could the arrogant Dutch captain have a heart after all?

“Thank you so much!” she gushed. “I'll repay you quickly. You have my word.”

“Good. I appreciate a woman who keeps her word.” His eyes strayed to the near nakedness of her breasts again.

“I wish you wouldn't ogle me so,” she said curtly.

“You know you wore the damn gown to get my attention, and as I remember, you didn't seem to mind too much that night in the alcove or the day by the hillside.”

“You overpowered me!”

A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “Let's discuss repayment of the loan. Can you be ready to sail for the Indies tomorrow? My ship leaves within the week.”

“The Indies? I don't understand.”

“For one year you're to sail on my ship, eat beside me, share my quarters at night, and I don't mean only to sleep there. The life of a sea captain is very lonely.”

“Surely you jest!”

“Nay. I'm serious. If you want the money, you'll have to become my mistress for one year. These are the terms of the loan.”

She saw the seriousness in his eyes. Was he mad, then? She'd never consent to become the mistress of such a man, his doxy, his whore. How many words were there to describe the position he wished to put her in? She wasn't a randy tavern wench like the one who eyed them from across the room. She was Lady Wynter McChesney.

Standing up, she scraped the bottom of her chair along the floor. Silver fire flashed in her eyes. “I refuse your terms. Find some little guttersnipe to become your companion, for no lady of quality would ever sink so low.”

His face grew livid with anger, and he rose up and stared her down. “My dear little girl, for your information, many ladies of sterling reputation have begged for me to love them. I think you're no different. Hot blood flows through your veins. I know this, for I've felt your passion, your desire for me when our lips met. Don't pretend to be outraged by my proposition. I know that if you were my mistress, you'd enjoy giving yourself to me. After all, you were ready to marry a coward like Somerset. Evidently you like to be brutally treated, or is it that you're not woman enough even to please a man like Somerset?”

She made a move to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist. “You're the most despicable man I've ever met!” she cried.

Bemusement was in his eyes when he finally dropped her wrist. “You've never met a real man, my dear. I gather this means you refuse my terms.”

Tears of rage gathered and threatened to spill over. Why did this man think he could treat her with disdain, or was it that he treated all women the same? “I'd rather milk cows for a day's wages than accept the terms you offer.”

“Too bad, little one, for I think you'd enjoy yourself if you'd allow yourself to feel like a woman instead of fighting.”

“Oh!” She was so overwrought she couldn't say another thing, couldn't think clearly. She stormed out of the inn and sat in stony-faced silence for the rest of the trip home with Maddie's constant “tsk tsk” echoing in her ears.

When Wynter put in an appearance later that afternoon for luncheon, Debra's quizzical gaze raked over her. “Where were you all morning?”

“I took a ride into the village,” Wynter told her, aware that Adam made a snorting sound of disgust.

“It appears you missed Sir Alex Banbridge. He came by especially to ask about you.” Debra carefully maneuvered the spoon of hot broth between her lips.

“What did he wish with me?”

“He wants to marry you.”

Wynter went white. Sir Alex was a recent widower, reputed to have been a brutal husband, and there was talk that he had pushed his wife down the stairs in a fit of anger, causing her death. Wynter's eyes narrowed at Debra. How complacent she looked, and Lucy, too, as her sister smirked at her from across the table.

“You wish only to marry me off to Sir Alex as retribution for my parents' sin. Sir Alex is a cruel man.”

“You're an ungrateful wretch,” Lucy voiced. “Mother only wants to see you well married, and you're quite lucky the man wants you at all. You're penniless, you know.”

How well Wynter knew that. But she wouldn't marry Sir Alex if he were King Midas himself.

“I won't wed the man,” Wynter said, conviction in her voice.

Debra stirred her tea. “Do you plan to live in my house and take my charity? The days of festive parties and pretty clothes are past for you now, Wynter.”

“I don't care about any of that. I wish to buy the estate from you. An offer shall be forthcoming.”

“Good heavens!” Adam exclaimed.

Debra's eyebrows arched with interest. “Where will the money come from? You own nothing except the ruby pendant and ring, which by right belong to Lucy as Adam's wife. I hope you don't intend to sell them.”

“Wynter can keep the jewels,” Adam said in a rush.

Lucy threw down her napkin in disgust and shot Adam a withering glance. “Those jewels are mine!”

“Do be quiet,” Wynter told them and unclasped the pendant. The chain slipped between her fingers and landed on the table. Lucy eagerly grabbed it. “You will find the ring on my dressing table,” Wynter said.

Lucy's mouth dropped open in surprise. She had expected that she'd have to whine to achieve her aim. Smiling, she stood up and ran upstairs to fetch the ring.

“You could have kept them.” A vein throbbed in Adam's temple.

“I have no need of them. Lucy is your wife,” she reminded him.

Debra interrupted. “From whom did you borrow the money?”

“A friend,” she lied in an attempt to gain some time and find someone who'd help her.

“Suppose I choose not to sell to you?”

“But you will. Otherwise, I'll be forced to tell the world you aren't my true mother. Can you bear living with such a scandal and knowing that everyone will realize that father never loved you? I think not.”

Debra grew pensive. Though she had always ranted at Walter that she'd tell the truth to one and all, she never had. Her pride forbade it. And she knew Wynter hadn't anything to lose by revealing the facts. Debra had underestimated the chit. But truly Debra wanted to live out her days in Somerset House, not in McChesney manor. Too many ugly memories festered within its walls. She had achieved her goal when Lucy married Somerset. Let Sara's stubborn daughter buy the place from her … if she could raise the money.

Wynter started when she heard Debra's voice. “Bring me an offer, and I'll sell you the estate.”

“You promise?”

Debra laughed. “I do. All has worked out to my satisfaction.”

Wynter watched as Debra got up from the table and departed the room.

“I believe the old witch means it,” Adam stated.

“Yes, she means it, but she knows I can't buy the estate without marrying Alex Banbridge. She desires to humiliate me by such a match and revenge herself upon my parents. Debra is far from stupid.”

Adam's gaze swept over her. “Did a ‘friend' really lend you the money?”

“That's none of your concern.”

“It is when the person in question might be Cort Van Linden.”

Wynter colored. “What about Van Linden?”

Adam laughed gruffly. “I know you saw him this morning at the Fleece. Word spreads easily here, Wynter. Surely you know that. I also know you left in quite a huff. What did the blackguard do? Proposition you?”