Pirate's Golden Promise Page 4

  “I shall miss you very much,” Wynter said and squeezed his hand.

  He stood up, appearing uneasy. “I have chores to finish before supper. Let’s be on our way back.”

  “I think I’ll ride some more. You return home.”

  A little while later, she reined in her horse on the border of the Montgomery property. The large yellow stone house, built around the time of her own, stood in the open plain. Wynter wondered briefly if the arrogant sea captain still shared Estelle Montgomery’s bed or had grown tired of her. She delighted to think he may have already left for the sea.

  When she was about to turn Misty Blue around, she was startled to see the Dutchman grinning at her. He sat on his horse, a large black stallion. His hair blew wildly about his face, and Wynter couldn’t help but realize how devilishly handsome he looked in a black riding jacket.

  “You scared the wits out of me, sir!” she proclaimed.

  “Forgive me. I thought you heard my approach.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “No wonder. Your attention was markedly fixed on the Montgomery house. Were you dwelling on the inhabitants?”

  A blush like a pink tide rushed to her cheeks. Damn the man! she thought, and tried to hide her embarrassment. Could he always read her mind so well?

  “I was contemplating a visit to Lady Montgomery but thought better of it, lest she be busy.”

  “Ah, busy with me, you mean.” He laughed aloud, amusement in his eyes. “Well, she isn’t. So, your adolescent curiosity is appeased.”

  Wynter’s mouth dropped. He still considered her a child though he had tried to seduce her in the alcove. What sort of man was this foreign captain?

  “You’re extremely self-centered, sir.”

  “Am I?” He inched his horse closer to her. Van Linden’s musky male scent reached her nostrils and she grew very much aware of how his tawny eyes sparkled, how his lips were only inches from hers. She found herself mesmerized by him, unable to glance away. When a dark-sleeved arm shot out and encircled her waist, drawing her closer to him until her body meshed with his, she was quite prepared for his fiery kiss, so drenched with passion that she grew weak and breathless.

  When his face parted from hers, she discovered that she clung with one hand to the reins and the other was clasped around his neck in wanton abandonment.

  “You’re a beautiful minx, my sweet, and perhaps I should rethink my original opinion of you. You kiss like no child.” His words rolled over her like silk, and she would have stayed in this position except that Misty Blue snorted, bringing Wynter to her senses.

  She pulled her arm from around his neck and slapped his face with resounding force.

  “You took advantage of me!” Wynter’s eyes breathed smoky fire.

  Van Linden took a firm hold of her arm. “The next time we meet, Wynter, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t practically swoon with passion in my arms and then pretend outrage later. It’s quite aggravating.”

  Dropping her arm, he urged his horse in the direction of the house, but Wynter shouted after him, her voice barely carrying on the blustery wind. “There shan’t be a next time, Captain!”

  She flew back across the fields, riding hard. When she arrived at the stables, Fletcher made a comment about Misty Blue’s being lathered up, but she was so overwrought about the arrogant captain that she ran to the house, beating the deluge of rain by only seconds.

  Maddie was in the kitchen and helped her off with her cape. “Your father wants to speak to you in the library.”

  Wynter felt very drained suddenly. “Do you know what he wants?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Maddie looked solemn and serious. Her hands trembled, and Wynter knew something was not right.

  When she sat before her father some moments later in the straight-back chair, he came and knelt beside her. He took her hand.

  “Papa, is something wrong?” she asked.

  “I must tell you a secret, something you should have known from the beginning, but I thought to protect you. You must believe I never wanted to hurt you, pet.”

  “Is it a bad secret?”

  Walter took a deep breath and squeezed her fingers as if he were frightened she’d flee. “I hope you think not,” he told her, “but I tell you now to insure your happiness.”

  CHAPTER

  3

  It all made sense now to Wynter. Her father’s confession explained Debra’s disregard for her, the biting, veiled comments made over the years. The reason behind them was simple: she wasn’t Debra’s child.

  “I hope you aren’t disappointed, pet. Please know that I love you very much.” Walter looked so old suddenly in his hunched position that concern and love flooded Wynter.

  She hugged him. “Oh, Papa, how sorry I am for you. All these years you’ve lived a lie because of me. How blessed I am that you’re my father!”

  “My sweet, sweet girl,” he murmured. “You’re so like your mother, but you mustn’t allow Debra to intimidate you. She wishes Lucy to marry Somerset, and I fear she will stop at nothing to have her way.”

  Wynter shot him an encouraging smile. “He loves me, Papa.”

  An aching sensation squeezed his chest a moment, and he stood up and held onto the desk until the pain passed. “I hope he does,” he said with more vigor than he felt. He didn’t want Wynter to fret over him. Even now he saw the questioning arch of her brow. He smiled at her until her face visibly relaxed.

  “Has my news upset you?” he asked.

  Wynter shook her head. “I’m relieved Debra isn’t my real mother. It’s been horrible all these years, wondering why she hated me so, why she poisoned Lucy against me. I used to think it was my fault she hated me, that I had done something wrong. But now that I know the truth, she can’t harm me ever again.”

  “That’s the spirit, pet. I’m proud of you, pleased you didn’t break into tears on learning the truth. You’re a true McChesney, Wynter. Remember, your ancestors are made from stern mettle. Don’t ever allow anyone to belittle you because of an accident of birth. As much McChesney blood flows through your veins as Lucy’s.”

  “I’ll remember,” she said. She noticed he was unusually pale, but he told her he had a great deal of work to do, so to leave him to it.

  The wind and rain still pounded upon the valley when Wynter ran into the kitchen and retrieved her cape from the hook where Maddie had hung it an hour earlier. Quickly pulling it on and throwing her hood over her head, she ran from the house to the darkened chapel. She stood in the chapel doorway as her eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dimness. Wynter had been inside the chapel many times before and knew she could have walked blindfolded through the dark chill of the place.

  On her left by the stained-glass window were the stone effigies of all the dead McChesneys, Sir Neville McChesney among them. Because of him she now stood in this spot, slept in the stone manor house each night, and would soon marry Lord Adam Somerset. He had built the manor house for a disagreeable wife while he partook of his mistress’ charms. For the first time in her life Wynter empathized with him. Before, whenever the story was brought up, usually by Debra, she had thought it awful and wicked for Sir Neville to desert his family. Now she didn’t think so. His story reminded her too much of her father’s, and she could no longer hate Sir Neville.

  She found her way to an oak pew and thought about Adam. With the lulling hum of the rain overhead, her mind fastened on his handsome face, on the way his eyes always raked over her body. At first she had found his secret looks exciting, because she’d had a childhood infatuation for him since she was six and he was 13. Of course, she never expected it to amount to much since there was an unspoken agreement that he and Lucy would wed one day. But they hadn’t. And by the time he shipped off with the king’s navy at 20, he and Lucy still weren’t betrothed.

  Adam had returned six months ago, and Wynter knew that Debra expected Lucy to marry Adam. However, Adam’s interests weren’t directed to Lucy, and now Wynter w
ore the huge Somerset betrothal ruby on her finger.

  “I should be happy,” Wynter said aloud. But she wasn’t happy suddenly, and it wasn’t because of Walter’s secret.

  Wynter felt confused. If she loved Adam, why did his hands, his lips, cause her to push away from him? A person in love ached to be touched by the beloved, or so she had been led to believe by overhearing the servants talk about their amorous pursuits.

  Her mind drifted from Adam to recall the feel of warm, firm lips upon hers and a strong arm around her waist. Wynter blushed, but traced her lips, which Cort Van Linden had claimed, with a fingernail. She wondered what would have happened if her horse hadn’t broken the magic spell the man had woven over her. She had wanted him to kiss her, and she realized she was disappointed when he finally drew away. The arrogant man caused her to feel things she shouldn’t feel for a man who wasn’t her betrothed.

  She shook her head to drive his handsome, bronzed face from her mind. Van Linden was crude, she told herself, a womanizer with only one aim in life. She vowed she wouldn’t become his next target. Rising from her seat, she ran out of the chapel and across the yard to the house. Soon she was safely and snugly ensconced before the fireplace in the drawing room. Under Debra’s watchful eye, pretending to study a Bible passage which Debra insisted she and Lucy discuss after supper, Wynter realized that Adam would never make her flesh tingle the way the captain had.

  “So he told you!” Debra exclaimed later that night as Wynter readied for bed. Her white cap lay askew on her head, and her gray muslin dress enhanced the dark fury in her eyes.

  “Yes, Father told me the truth,” Wynter said, as calmly as she could, a bit frightened of the hatred in Debra’s eyes which the woman didn’t bother to conceal. She continued brushing her hair, glancing at Debra’s reflection in the mirror. Truly the woman detested her.

  Wringing her hands, Debra paced the room. “He thinks he has won, but Somerset will marry Lucy. Not you. Never you!”

  Wynter laid down her brush and turned to face the woman whom she had thought of as her mother until that morning. She knew Debra was attempting to intimidate her, just as her father said she would. Though Wynter did feel some intimidation under Debra’s cold gaze and mouth set in a sneer, she wouldn’t allow her to see it.

  “I can feel Lucy’s pain,” Wynter began calmly, “but Adam doesn’t love her. He chose to marry me.”

  “That situation can be undone.”

  “It cannot.”

  “It will!” Debra persisted. “My child shall win back Somerset House for me and make a great marriage in the process.”

  Debra appeared so agitated that Wynter was concerned. “Please calm yourself, Mother. You’ll make yourself ill.”

  Hot, pulsing blood coursed through Debra’s veins, and her face turned a fiery red. “Never call me such a name again! I am not your mother and never wanted to be your mother! Your mother was an adulteress, a lewd woman who bore my husband’s child. I can never forget or forgive that. I wish to heaven you had been born dead. Then perhaps some of the affection your father bestowed upon you would have come my way.” Debra hadn’t meant to speak so plainly, or to allow Wynter to know the secret pain she carried, but it was too late now. She couldn’t take back her words.

  “I’m sorry for you,” Wynter said, unable to think of anything else to say.

  “Pity yourself, not me!”

  Debra left the room, slamming the door with a loud bang. Maddie entered then, a concerned look on her face.

  “Are you all right?” she asked and stroked Wynter’s hair.

  Wynter grabbed her arm and clung to it, unable to speak of the fear in her heart to Maddie. Somehow, though she hadn’t a clue as to when or how, Debra would destroy her marriage plans.

  “Oh, Maddie, I must see Adam. I have to explain everything to him before Debra does.”

  “Now, now,” Maddie soothed her and helped her into bed. She placed the covers over her and patted her cheek. “There’s time enough to talk to Lord Somerset.”

  Wynter shook her head. “No. Things must be settled soon. I’ll visit him in the morning.”

  “Do that,” Maddie said and blew out the candle, and left the room.

  Though Wynter fell into a fitful sleep, it wasn’t Adam she dreamed about but a blond-haired, tawny-eyed sea captain whose kisses set her body on fire.

  “My God, Wynter, I had no idea!”

  Adam sat across from her in the huge dining room of Somerset House. Morning sunlight spilled onto the mahogany dining table, its highly polished surface reflecting the surprise on Adam’s face. Wynter looked closely at him in an attempt to see if he was dismayed by her news. She saw nothing there to indicate that his feelings had changed towards her.

  “I knew there had been a parting of the ways between your parents and your grandfather, but the old man never let on what the problem might have been,” Adam continued.

  Wynter looked down at the petal design on the surface of her fragile teacup. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told Adam the truth. Maddie had warned her before leaving at dawn that morning that it was best not to say anything to Adam until she had had the chance to sort things out in her own mind. But she dreaded what Debra might tell him and knew she’d distort the truth about her parents. So, as her gaze drifted up towards Adam’s face, she said, “Aunt Debra is determined that you and Lucy marry. Does this change things between us?”

  If she had had any doubts, he dispelled them when he took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “My darling, this news changes nothing, I still want to marry you. I love you. Lucy is a drab little pigeon and as boring as a dead cat. You’re the woman with whom I want to spend my life.”

  “Oh, Adam,” Wynter breathed softly. “I do care for you. I really do.” And at that moment, she did. Her unease about her love for him during the past weeks vanished when he lifted her to her feet and enfolded her in his arms. The fact that he still wanted her enabled her to believe she loved him, and she knew her father would be pleased by the news that the wedding was still on.

  Adam bent his head and touched her lips in a sweet kiss. Never had he been so gentle with her, so understanding of her turmoil. How can I not love him? she asked herself.

  He drew away from her and noticed how her breasts strained against the lilac riding jacket. With her hair tousled from the morning ride, and her dark-fringed eyes sparkling like translucent crystal, Adam found her more desirable than ever. He remembered her reaction the night of her party and knew he must tread slowly with her. The fact that she was Sara’s child didn’t bother him. She was still Lord Walter McChesney’s daughter and would one day be very wealthy. He knew Lucy loved him and that Debra wanted him to marry her; but he wouldn’t marry Lucy, not when a beautiful, willing girl like Wynter wished to become his wife. One day he hoped to advance in the king’s navy and thought that his wife’s parentage might present a problem. He decided to deal with that when the time came. Even if his advancement never came to fruition, he’d still be married to a wealthy, beautiful woman, and above everything else, he needed money. His creditors were breathing down his neck right then, and he hoped he could stall them until the wedding in a month’s time. If not, he felt sure Walter would see that his debts were paid.

  He knew Wynter was innocent and charmed by his good looks. He sensed she’d be a skittish bride where lovemaking was concerned, so he didn’t want to frighten her off at the moment. After the ceremony he’d bed her and take his pleasure in her. Even if she cried to Walter that Adam was rough with her, which he intended to be, because he liked some roughness in lovemaking and decided that Wynter would also in time, Walter would have no say in the matter. She’d still be Walter’s daughter and an heiress, and because Walter coveted Somerset House, he wouldn’t interfere.

  With a heady sense of success filling his head, Adam grinned and gave her a merry laugh. “A few weeks and we’ll be married, sweet. Don’t worry about your mother and her sharp, vicious tongue. I can handle her.”

/>   “Suppose she tells everyone the truth? Can you live with that?”

  “Of course, my love,” he said, the thought of Wynter’s fortune softening the embarrassment he’d feel if people learned the truth.

  Happy tears filled Wynter’s eyes. “I’m lucky you love me.”

  As she rode home on Misty Blue an hour later, she thought she was fortunate to still have Adam’s love. Her worries had been for nothing, and now she wondered how she could ever be the perfect wife to such a wonderful, understanding man. Another man might have broken off the betrothal because of the humiliating circumstances, but Adam hadn’t. Surely in time she would come to crave the feel of his hands and lips, but then again the physical side of marriage might not be as important as she thought. After all, her father was still married to Debra.

  When she trotted into the stables, Fletcher was waiting for her in the doorway and dashed forward to help her dismount. Usually Fletch joked with her, but she quickly noticed that his face contained a great sadness.

  “Fletch, has your mother made you swallow that vile elixir again for your cough? You look terrible.”

  “Wynter—” His voice cracked.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, but suddenly she knew. She grabbed at his coat front. “It’s Papa!”

  He nodded. She twisted around to run towards the house, and Fletcher ran beside her. He grabbed her arm a second before she entered the back door. “Your father had some sort of attack this morning. My mother said he’s bad off but has been calling for you.”

  She stifled the urge to cry out and rushed headlong through the kitchen until she found herself outside the door of her father’s room. Debra was at his side, Lucy at the foot of the bed, still dressed in her nightrail and robe, and Maddie silently straightened the bed covers. When Wynter dashed into the room, Debra moved aside for her, and she saw her father’s ashen face as white as the pillows he lay upon.