Chapter Nineteen
“Sirena, darling, we really must go to the opening,” Stephan said firmly. “Everyone will be there. Our absence will be conspicuous. We don’t want that now, do we? I like to try my hand at a new gaming table, and your reluctance to accompany me is quite puzzling.”
“There is nothing strange in my reluctance to attend this ‘gala’ as you call it, Stephan. I simply don’t wish to come.” Sirena’s temper threatened to flare. Stephan was speaking to her as though she were a spoiled child. “If it means so much to you, go by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t enjoy it without you, darling. If you’d rather a quiet evening here at your home, then I will oblige. As a matter of fact, it has been some time since we’ve had privacy.”
When it became obvious that Stephan had every intention of spending the evening with her, Sirena had second thoughts. The idea of whiling away an entire evening listening to him recite the inane gossip he acquired in drawing rooms and taprooms was hardly appealing. Nor did she care to listen politely as he told her of his luck at the faro table or his plans for the fencing academy. Stephan had told her also that Regan was taking Camilla to Caleb’s new enterprise and the last person she wanted to face was Regan. It had been only yesterday that she went to his house. It would take some time to get over what had nearly happened. Still, if Regan had recovered himself to spend a night out with Camilla, what was she to do? Hide away in the house and refuse to show her face? “Very well, Stephan, but let us make it an early evening.”
“Wonderful,” Langdon smiled. “I will do all I can to make the evening. a success for you.”
Sirena’s stomach churned at the thought of going aboard the beloved Rana and seeing Caleb again and all the gaming equipment. She wasn’t entirely certain she would be able to contain her irritation over what he had made of the frigate.
Reluctantly, Sirena ascended the stairway to get ready. She took special care with her toilette in order to compensate for what had transpired between herself and Regan. A gown of rich gold with a low, yet modest, bodice was her final choice. She fastened a large, triangular-shaped emerald at the V of her gown and attached matching gems to her earlobes. Her dark hair shone like the sleek feathers of a raven as it took wing. A light touch of Spanish paper brought color to her cheeks and lips.
As Stephan waited for Frau Holtz to bring Sirena’s light wrap, he said appreciatively, “Sirena, have I neglected to tell you how breathtaking you are tonight.” His gaze centered upon the brooch and his finger itched to snatch it from her bosom. He contented himself with knowing that, sooner or later, his hands would close around it. “By the by, darling,” Stephan said sweetly, “it seems as though I’ve forgotten to bring my purse. Could you extend me some pounds to amuse myself at the tables? A few hundred would do nicely.”
“A few hundred what?” Sirena asked sarcastically. “You say it as though you were talking about fish!”
“Darling, I wouldn’t ask you save for the fact that until I’ve established an account at the Sea Siren’s tables, I’m at a disadvantage. Of course, we could always stop by my house to retrieve my purse.” Tiny beads of perspiration broke out on Stephan’s forehead. If she didn’t lend him the money, he would have to contrive another lie to keep her from discovering he hadn’t a farthing to his name.
“Very well, Stephan, darling,” she added the endearment with a curled lip. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your evening, would I?”
Suddenly Stephan turned around, sensing an unexpected presence in the room. There stood Wren, her dark eyes shining as she looked admiringly at Sirena.
“Wren! Shouldn’t Frau Holtz have put you to bed? It’s very late, little one.” Stephan raised an eyebrow at Sirena’s soft tone and brought his attention back to the child. “Stephan, this is Wren. Curtsy to Lord Langdon, sweetheart,” she directed affectionately.
Wren made a quick, embarrassed curtsy and shyly glanced up into Stephan’s face. The soft lighting in the room heightened the pink glow on the girl’s smooth cheeks and her brown hair bounced in springy curls with her action. Stephan reached out his hand and smoothed the errant locks back from her brow and lifted her chin to study her features. “Wren, now, is it? A niece of yours, Sirena?” he questioned. “Where did you ever find such a lovely child?”
“No, not a niece. Wren was in sorry straits when we found each other. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Again her tone gentled and Stephan noticed. “I’ve taken her in as my ward and the situation pleases both of us.” Her smile was maternal and loving.
“Sirena, you can’t mean to say you’ve taken a waif off the streets and brought her into your home?”
Sirena bristled at Stephan’s tone and tenderly ordered Wren to run off to bed. After the girl left Sirena turned hostile, glittering eyes on her intended. “Don’t ever talk in that deprecating manner around Wren. I won’t have it!”
Stephan sensed the danger of his actions. Immediately, he amended: “Darling, it is only for your own sake I ask these questions. You’re such a child yourself when it comes to the horrors of London. You have no way of knowing whether or not that urchin is part of a gang of thugs and intends to make it possible for them to rob you blind! Haven’t you thought of that possibility?”
“Much to my own merit, Stephan, no I haven’t. Wren is a loving, beautiful and grateful child. As a matter of fact, I intend to adopt her sometime soon. As such, she deserves your respect, if not your affection.”
Stephan sensed he was journeying on shaky ground. The light in Sirena’s eyes had heightened to the glow of molten metal. “Of course, darling, how generous of you. I should never have spoken as I did, regardless of my apprehensions. Forgive me.”
Sirena remained silent. Tugging her wrap closer about her shoulders, she moved to the door, waiting for Stephan to open it for her. As she stepped out into the cool air, Stephan turned and saw Wren staring down at him from the second-floor balustrade. Her dark eyes bore into him and held a wise and knowing look that made the hackles on the back of his neck rise to attention. Long after he had closed the door behind him, Stephan could feel the child’s eyes boring into his back.
As they rode toward Rosemary Lane, where Caleb’s ship was anchored near Barking Church, Sirena listened with half an ear as Stephan droned on and on about gambling halls and fortunes men had won and lost. She seethed and her body trembled. What was wrong with her? Here she was, in a civilized society, and she was behaving like an ignorant schoolgirl. Was it possible that she could only come to life at sea, free to roam the decks of her own ship dressed as the notorious Sea Siren? I’ve made a shambles of my life, she thought sadly as she felt Stephan inch closer to her in the coach. And, she thought unexpectedly, Stephan nauseates me. And here I am, sitting beside him and I’ll marry him in a few days’ time. Regan is right. I must be insane!
The carriage lurched and came to a grinding halt. Sirena fell sideways and Stephan caught her in his arms. She swallowed hard to fight back the tears as she righted herself. Strings of festively colorful lanterns lit the wharf surrounding her beloved frigate. The newly painted name on the bow was stark and eye-catching. Elegantly clad women strolled the decks, their arms demurely tucked into those of their escorts as they laughed and chattered excitedly of the evening ahead.
On deck, the newly varnished rails were sleek and smooth to the touch. For a second Sirena was frightened to walk beneath the swaying lamps, remembering the near catastrophe at the masquerade party. Her attention was directed away from her fears to the bright ribbons and lanterns festooning the wheelhouse. Stifling her annoyance, she allowed Stephan to escort her into the main room, which had once been the crew’s quarters and quarterdeck.
The center area was devoted to the gaming tables while the perimeters were furnished with intimate dining tables. A small stage had been erected in the far corner and was lengthened with a narrow runway, making it visible at every angle.
The room was so crowded it was almost impossible to move. Men argued in brisk, friendly tones as they waited their turn at dice or faro. Sirena noticed a distinguished, aristocratic gentleman weaving in and out of the throng, assuring the guests they would all be seen to and each would have their chance. Over and over he repeated that the Sea Siren would be open every night for dining, entertainment and for a toss with Lady Luck.
After Stephan seated Sirena at a dining table, he positioned himself across from her, his eyes continually roving to the dice game in progress. “Go on and enjoy yourself, Stephan, I’ll be perfectly happy to sit here and watch.”
“You’re certain you wouldn’t mind?” he asked perfunctorily, already rising from his chair, an excited, hungry look marking his handsome features.
“I’m certain. Go, have a try for me.” She saw Stephan’s hand go unconsciously to the breast pocket where he had put the money she had loaned him. Gallantly, he leaned over her hand and pressed his lips to it, murmuring a promise he wouldn’t be long.
It was some time before Sirena noticed Caleb in the crowded, airless room. Her eyes met his the instant he looked up. She was stunned once again by the close resemblance to Regan. Why did she keep thinking of him as a young boy? It was apparent to everyone that he was a very handsome and, judging from the number of patrons on the ship, promisingly rich young man. Sadly, Regan had been correct in saying Caleb had put his immaturity behind. His shoulders were broad and muscular as he lithely snaked his way among the gay guests. His dark eyes flashed happily and a wide grin split his face as he finally succeeded in arriving at Sirena’s table.
When he perceived her cold attitude, his smile faded and his eyes took on a wary, brooding expression, so like Regan’s. “I’m glad you came tonight, Sirena. My father is somewhere with his young lady. He wished me success and I was hoping you would do. the same.”
Even his voice seemed to have changed—low, husky and almost seductive. His evening wear fitted him perfectly, as though the tailor cut it to his precise form. She noted his eye follow a slim, young woman bent on winning at dice. “Hello, Caleb,” she said softly. “I can do no less than Regan. Of course, I wish you well. If tonight is any indication of your success, you’ll turn a handsome profit. What will you do with your wealth?”
“First, I plan to repay what is owed to you. Then I want to go to the American colonies. How soon this will be depends upon my success here. And what of yourself, Sirena, how do you fare?”
“If you cared how I was, you would have called and not let me discover what you’ve done with the Rana by means of a carelessly thrown handbill. You’ve inherited a good deal of your father’s traits,” Sirena said cooly.
Caleb sat down opposite her and said seriously, “I am not Regan, Sirena. Remember that. I made a promise to myself not to interfere in your lives and I expect the same from both of you. I could well be making a terrible mistake with this enterprise, but I will have only myself to blame. Haven’t you noticed I’m no longer that young boy?”
“I’ve noticed,” Sirena answered quietly, a part of her mourning for that tousle-headed youth who climbed like a monkey up the masts and through the rigging. “Tell me, Caleb, what do you think of Regan’s betrothed?”
Something flashed in Caleb’s eyes as he squirmed beneath Sirena’s scrutiny. Even in the dim light she could detect the beginning of a flush. “They look well together,” he hedged. “My father has had little to say to me since he came aboard this evening. Sirena, what are you going to do—do you plan to stay in England?”
“Did he instruct you to discover my intentions?”
“Of course not. I ask because I’m interested.”
“When I decide, I’ll let you know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll try my hand against the house.” With a nod to Caleb, she rose and walked off, aware of him staring at her receding back.
This wasn’t the old Sirena, Caleb thought dejectedly. Never had he seen her so hostile. Between Regan and himself, they had succeeded in stealing the spirit right out of her. His dark gaze searched the room for Regan and Camilla. His eyes became speculative as he walked in their direction, his attention centering on the beautiful blonde who was soon to be his stepmother.
Regan settled his fianceé beside a portly woman, with whom she seemed familiar, and made his way to the crowded faro table. Just as he turned his back on the ladies, Caleb sauntered up to Camilla and offered to point out the attractions of the Sea Siren. Camilla flushed and prettily agreed.
Out on deck, beneath the festive lanterns, Camilla looked up at Caleb. “Regan never told me he had a son. I can’t imagine why, since you are a very attractive man.”
Caleb smiled, barely keeping himself from grimacing. Regan kept many secrets to himself, he was thinking. Then, looking down into Camilla’s fragile face, he realized how reluctant Regan would be to admit he had a son nearly as old as his future wife. “Perhaps Father was frightened I would steal you off.”
Camilla looked up at Caleb, the resemblance to Regan amazing. Despite the fact that Caleb’s hair and eyes were dark brown while Regan resembled a Norse god, their gestures and stride were the same, as well as the breadth of shoulders and slender hips. But in Caleb, Regan’s good looks were almost exotic, owing to the slight tilt of his eyes. “Would you, Caleb? Steal me off, that is?” Her frank appreciation for him was evident in the languorous look she bestowed on him.
“Yes, I suppose I would have,” he answered truthfully. She was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen and merely being near her did odd things to his pulse. “Would you have come with me?” he asked huskily.
For an answer, Camilla gazed into his eyes, allowing him to see there a torrent of emotion. Abruptly, she looked away, a faint blush on her smooth cheeks, and retreated slightly as though putting herself out of temptation’s way. Several paces distant, she stopped and leaned over the rail, studying the star-filled night.
Caleb felt as though his heart would rise up in his throat and choke him. He had to be near her, even the few feet separating them made him feel as though he’d stepped into shadow after the bright warming sun. She was so lovely, and in her pale blue gown she looked like a spring flower basking in the moonlight.
Sirena’s eyes had narrowed as she watched Caleb and Camilla leave the main room. She had thrown the dice and left her winnings on the board, to the astonishment of the company. Quietly, she had followed Caleb and Camilla across the familiar deck. She knew each creaking plank, each worm hole in the salt-scrubbed deck. It was several minutes before she found the young duo at the rail of the stern looking out over the water. Their manner was so intimate she became embarrassed and was about to leave when she saw Caleb bring up his hand and gently stroke Camilla’s cheek. The girl leaned her face into the palm of his hand, searching his face as he gazed into her eyes.
Camilla seemed to shiver involuntarily and Caleb swiftly removed his frock coat and gently placed it around her shoulders, bringing it close around her neck. Sirena knew that Camilla had aroused Caleb’s protective instincts. She was the first woman he had ever seemed truly interested in, and in the manner of all young men, he imagined himself Camilla’s knight on white charger. She flattered his masculinity, catered to his virility and swept him into her carefully spun web.
Sirena watched, all her female instincts knowing Camilla’s ploy. Oh, Caleb, she sighed silently. I thought I taught you about wily women! Unbidden to Sirena’s mind came the memory of Caleb as a child and his protectiveness toward her. She recalled how, as a lad, he had sought to save her from the lecherous crewman, Wooster. He had put his life on the line for her that day, taking up sword against the seaman and risking death, to protect her.
An anger rose up in Sirena, directed toward Regan. Camilla was too young for him. The anger subsided and worry took its place. Caleb was playing with fire when he entertained thoughts of Camilla. If Regan should ever find out, Caleb would be placing himself in as great a danger as he did when he confronted that scurve, Wooster.
Sirena drew in her breath as Caleb’s voice carried across to her and she heard him murmur to Camilla that her eyes were unequaled by the stars and her hair was liquid silver in the moonlight. They leaned closer to one another as though pulled by an invisible force. Caleb gathered Camilla near him and brought her lips to his in a long, lingering kiss. Camilla’s smooth, white arms tightened about his broad back as she strained closer.
Sirena felt her heart pound as she heard faint words from Caleb and watched them make their way to the captain’s cabin where Regan had made love to her so long ago. When they were out of sight, Sirena saw the irony of the situation and threw back her head and laughed, the sound carrying out over the water and coming back to rest at her feet. “You’re too late, Regan. Your son has no need of a brothel. Like father, like son.”
Back in the main room, Sirena managed to wiggle her way between Stephan and Regan. Regan was making losing tosses of the dice time and again. Stephan, however, had won a modest sum, to Sirena’s amusement. From Regan’s expression, not only was he losing, he was also on the verge of inebriation.
“Mynheer van der Rhys, I believe Camilla is looking for you,” Sirena said, a wicked smile on her face. “She was strolling the deck a minute ago and the poor child seemed lost. I assume she lacks your attention.”
Regan turned, glanced at her and left. Stephan took her arm and escorted her back to their table.
“What do you think, Sirena? God, how I wish I’d thought of doing something like this myself. The lucky fellow who owns this enterprise will make a fortune in a fortnight. Lord Aubrey Farrington is part owner, I understand.”
“Then you don’t realize that your step-grandson is his partner.”
Stephan looked at her quizzically.
“Didn’t you realize Regan has a full-grown son, Caleb. This is his ship. How nice for you, two entrepreneurs in the family!”
Stephan Langdon seemed shocked to learn Regan already had a son, but he didn’t seem altogether displeased. “I had no idea; Camilla never mentioned—”
“It’s possible she didn’t know.”
Mentally, Stephan calculated what effect Regan having a son would have on Camilla’s prospects to inherit his fortune. Deciding that the loss would be negligible, he brightened. The younger van der Rhys would certainly extend credit to his prospective step-grandfather. “Whatever. I am proud to have such an inventive young man join my family. Our family,” he quickly amended. “Perhaps I can give him a few pointers. For one point, exclusivity is the key to a thriving establishment. Perhaps I should avail this Caleb van der Rhys of my knowledge of such matters. Of course, Lord Farrington has a certain acquaintanceship with these things, but I fear he lacks the important degree of finesse. Is something wrong, Sirena,” he interrupted himself, “you suddenly seem very quiet.”
“A raging headache, Stephan. I wonder if you would mind calling it a night? We can return some other time.”
“Darling, we haven’t seen the gypsy dancers yet!” Stephan declared, unwilling to accommodate the request.
“I have seen all manner of gypsy dancers in Spain and I told you I have a headache. If you refuse to escort me, I will avail myself of your coach and go alone,” Sirena said hotly.
Stephan recovered himself and spoke warmly. “Forgive me, darling. I allowed myself to be carried away with the gala atmosphere. I couldn’t bear to have you suffer. Can you forgive my thoughtlessness?” He became solicitous and led her out onto the deck.
“Look, Stephan, there’s the Dutchman and he doesn’t seem to have had much luck in locating your daughter.”
“Regan, where is Camilla?” Stephan called.
Regan weaved his way to the railing and looked at Sirena first and then at his future father-in-law. “I don’t know where the hell she is,” he slurred. “An explanation will be in order when I do find her.”
“Perhaps I can be of some help,” Sirena offered. “I saw her walking the deck with a handsome young man. She called him Caleb, if my memory serves me.”
Regan noticed her inflection when she said ‘young man.’ “And that pleases you, doesn’t it? It’s made your evening complete,” he said savagely, gripping her arm.
“See here, Regan. Remove your hand from the lady; your drunkenness in unbecoming. If a man cannot hold his liquor, he should not drink.” Stephan raised his voice.
“If a man cannot control his daughter, then he should not take her out in public,” Regan countered menacingly.
“I hesitate to remind you it was you who brought Camilla here. And it was you who left her to her own devices for amusement while you gambled!”
“I knew this was a wicked ship, a wicked, wicked ship,” Sirena said coyly. “That is the reason Stephan is taking me home. I really don’t think this is a fitting place for a lady and dear, dear Camilla—why, anything could have happened to her. That man certainly was strong. Why, one little flick of his hand and she would be ... pulp!”
Stephan had no intention of telling the lovely Sirena that the demure Camilla would have the gentleman over the railing in a split second if she wanted. He would have to find her before van der Rhys had second thoughts about marrying her. Stupid girl, what was she up to?
“Stephan, Mynheer van der Rhys is absolutely correct. Camilla needs a controlling hand; and, until their marriage, the chore is yours. The poor child needs supervision. Poor baby, something absolutely awful must have happened to her.”
“Shut up, Sirena,” Regan said harshly.
Stephan stiffened. He was in a most untenable situation. He hesitated to encourage Regan’s wrath and perhaps ruin Camilla’s chances, yet he was honor-bound to protect Sirena from the Dutchman’s insults. “Regan, I must caution you not to speak to Sirena that way. The only reason I won’t call you out is you’re betrothed to my daughter and you’re drunk.” Fine perspiration broke out on Stephan’s brow.
“Disgusting,” Sirena said pertly. “I will overlook his rudeness, Stephan, because I am so worried about Camilla. Do you think we should organize a search party? I, for one, would be glad to help.”
Stephan’s tone was suspicious. “I believe you said you had a headache and wanted to go home.”
“Do you think for one minute I would be able to sleep with that infant lost? What kind of woman do you take me for?” she demanded virtuously. “Come, Mynheer, I will help you find her,” she said, taking Regan’s arm.
Stephan uttered a cry of relief. “There’s no need, darling, here is Camilla now. Young woman, where have you been?” he asked firmly.
“It was such a lovely evening I thought I would explore the deck while Regan had his turn at the table,” Camilla said happily.
Regan was glaring at Camilla, and Sirena wondered if he noticed her lips were slightly swollen. Leaning near Regan, Sirena whispered, “You really must tell me where she’s been the next time we meet. If for some reason her excuses don’t satisfy you, seek me out and I’ll be happy to tell you.” She gathered her skirts in her hand and deboarded with Stephan, leaving Regan staring after her with rage engulfing his features.
Sirena was very quiet on the ride home and Stephan soon tired of trying to engage her in conversation. Her thoughts swung back to Regan and what he would do if he discovered Caleb was romantically involved with Camilla. Belatedly, she realized she shouldn’t have baited Regan. The last thing in this world she wanted was for him to learn where Camilla had been ... and with whom.
Relations were strained between Regan and his son as it was. This was a breech that would never heal! Caleb’s disloyalty and Camilla’s infidelity would never be forgiven. She thought of the relationship once enjoyed between Regan and Caleb and a lump swelled in her throat. Theirs was a loving bond and it had always included her and Mikel. They were so alike, the man she loved and his son, and they never forgot for a minute that it was because of her they were together again.
Regan and Caleb had once shared something beautiful and they still could. This breach would not last their lifetimes. Pushing back the tears of regret that something she had almost said would have destroyed the two people she loved most in the world, she resolved she would never tell Regan anything.
Regan helped Camilla into the carriage, all signs of drunkenness gone as he thrust her against the side of the seat. “Now, tell me where you were and what you were doing! You made me the fool in front of your father and that Spanish witch.”
Camilla allowed a tear to spill down her cheek. She had no intention of telling him where she had been. Her body still ached for Caleb. The soul-shattering ecstasy in his arms was something she would want again and again. “Dearest Regan, I was so piqued when you left me for a pair of dice, I just knew I had to go outdoors for a breath of air to compose myself. A gentleman was smoking one of those filthy cigars and giving me a headache. When your son offered to point out several attractions of his ship, I agreed. Soon after, he was called away on a matter of business. What harm was done?” she asked softly, nestling closer to him. “Regan, are you jealous? How gallant of you!” she giggled. “I quite adore you when you’re like this. And darling, please, you mustn’t concern yourself about being made a fool. No one could ever do that. You’re so strong, so manly,” she breathed. “As for Sirena, she would never consider my behavior unladylike. She’s so earthy. Why, she has been in my father’s bed many times,” Camilla lied. “I’m not a child, Regan. I know what is going on around me, and you must believe me when I tell you my evening was innocent.”
A chill washed over Regan. He withdrew his arm from her, his muscles tensed. Camilla continued to speak. “I have a feeling, mind you, it is only a hunch, but I think something will develop between them. I’ve seen the way she looks at him, and I suspect she would like to become Lady Langdon,” Camilla babbled on. “Of course, my father is not a fool. I’m certain he will do the honorable thing and marry her sooner or later.”
On and on Camilla babbled, till Regan thought he would lose all patience.
Why did he feel this way? What Sirena did with her life was her own business, just as what he did was his own. Something deep inside him knew that Camilla was lying to him about her evening stroll and about Sirena. Camilla had been with Caleb and ...
The carriage had come to a halt and Camilla waited for Regan to escort her to her door. “Darling Regan, I am so sorry I neglected you,” she pouted. “When we’re married, I’ll be at your side constantly. I’ll be the most devoted wife in all England.” She held up her face for his kiss and immediately went into the house.
Regan walked back to the carriage with the thought racing through his head that he should return to the Sea Siren and beat the truth out of Caleb. His broad shoulders slumped and he brought his hands to his temples when he relaxed against the seat. Camilla wasn’t worth it. He knew he didn’t love her; she was only a means to an end. Suddenly, he felt like retching. Sirena was right; even he had a price. Nothing was working out the way he planned it.
Camilla danced up to her room and flounced down on the bed. Her thoughts were on Caleb and her hour with him. Tonight, there were no thoughts about her empty stomach and the food she had cached away in her reticule. She lay back, a dreamy expression on her face.
The last patron gone, the bolt secure, Lord Farrington began to count the night’s profits. From time to time he smiled happily as he divided the money into separate piles. Caleb watched him, a strange look lighting his eyes. In one night he had become a successful businessman, seduced his father’s betrothed and antagonized Sirena. In the last few hours he had left the last vestiges of boyhood behind. He had found love.
When Camilla had crept from the bunk to return to the gaming hall, he had felt no remorse, only complete satisfaction. All the other times and all the other women meant nothing. This time it had been different. Camilla was special.
He sighed happily as he watched Lord Farrington fill two pouches with the profits and separate what they would need to pay expenses.
When Camilla had bent over his naked body and whispered in his ear that she would return, he had thought he had died and gone to Heaven. Clutching her to him, he had kissed her ardently till she was breathless. Gently, he had pushed her away. “Another time,” he had whispered in her ear.
“No,” Camilla had panted. “Again! Again, Caleb,” she had said, slipping her gown off her shoulder so he could see one creamy, coral-tipped breast.
Caleb had licked dry lips and straightened her gown. “Another time,” he had stated firmly. Some instinct had cautioned him that this was not the time to satisfy their wants. Another long, passionate kiss and Camilla, her breathing harsh and ragged in the quiet cabin, gathered up her reticule and left, but only after bestowing on Caleb a long and promising look.
“I will count the hours and the minutes,” she had whispered.
Caleb grinned and forced his attention back to the present. “Well, how did we do tonight?” he asked.
“With what we took in tonight, we could both live comfortably for a long time. But that’s not the end of it, eh Caleb, my boy? A toast, Caleb, to our success,” Aubrey Farrington said, pouring wine into two goblets. “To our continued success,” he said, regarding Caleb over the rim of the glass. His rheumy eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed the expression on Caleb’s face. He had seen that look before, worn it himself as a matter of fact. “And which of the ladies offered you her favors? Don’t deny it, lad, it’s there on your face.”
Caleb shrugged and drained his goblet, not offering any explanations.
“You’ll soon discover you have your pick of women, and most will want to crawl between the sheets with you. Do yourself a favor, lad. Taste them all and don’t tie yourself to one. There’s a long life ahead, long and profitable, and if you play your cards right, it will be very enjoyable.”
Farrington laughed at his little witticism and Caleb joined him, leaning back and stretching his long, muscular legs in front of him. He was completely relaxed. When he moved, Lord Farrington was reminded of a large, jungle cat who had felled his prey. Caleb enjoyed his women and made the best of his lusty appetites. Whatever, if he were to indulge his manly prowess, he wouldn’t pay too much attention to the profits.
Stephan Langdon burst into his darkened house calling for Camilla at the top of his voice. He had never been so furious with her in her whole life! It had taken all his control not to thrash her there on the gambling folly in the presence of Regan and Sirena. She had very nearly ruined their plans and he would see it never happened again. That romantic dalliance with Regan’s son had very nearly cost them the marriage to the wealthy van der Rhys.
Bounding up the stairs toward Camilla’s room, the rage welled up in him, reddening his finely drawn features. He knew if he didn’t get himself under control Camilla would be the worse for it. “Camilla! Camilla, you little fool! I mean to see you, so open this door!”
Camilla had been lying against her pillows dreaming of Caleb’s strong embrace and ardent lovemaking when she heard the front door bang shut announcing her father’s return. She knew he would be angry with her and she sincerely hoped he would leave her to herself until morning. She wanted nothing to interrupt her languid thoughts of the tall, dark-eyed young man whom she had only this night discovered was Regan’s son. Caleb was vital, daring and enthusiastic. Regan was a strong, fascinating man, but he was so staid, so mature. He lacked imagination. That was the difference, Camilla decided. Regan had never attempted to take her to bed. He treated her as though she were a mere child whose head was empty of everything save a new gown or pretty hats. Regan had never even thought to scratch her surface to find the sensuous woman who lurked beneath. But Caleb, yes, Caleb was quite a man. His youth was appealing, exciting, with a wild, urgent quality no woman could resist.
“Camilla! I mean to see you! Open this door!” For a fleeting moment Camilla was frightened. She had never heard this rage in Stephan’s voice directed at her. This was the tone he used with lazy servants or insolent shopkeepers who plagued him for payment. With a shock she remembered this was the voice he had used with her mother, leaving her sobbing and tearful.
“The door is open, Father. Please come in,” she said sweetly, ignoring his frame of mind. She would have to keep her wits about her.
Stephan entered. “What in the world were you trying to prove this evening, daughter? Don’t you know you very nearly destroyed the betrothal between yourself and the Dutchman?” He advanced on her and she resolved he would not obtain the advantage and reduce her to a cloying, crying weakling. As he had done with Mother, a little voice echoed through her head.
Standing erect, tiny chin jutting in defiance, Camilla faced her father. “Calm yourself. Regan was quite satisfied with my explanations. Besides, Caleb is his son, or didn’t you know? He would never suspect his son of being interested in his fiancée. Regan has very definite scruples and, naturally, attributes the same to his son.” She had kept her voice steady, had even ended her little speech with a stifled yawn.
Stephan grasped her arm in a hurting hold. “So say you! But you didn’t see him when he couldn’t find you. There was murder in his eyes, and I don’t think he would have stopped to consider who the young man was! As for you, he would have snapped you in two!”
Camilla wrestled free, tears stinging the backs of her eyelids, but she managed to say, “Perhaps. But he was very different with me. And he didn’t murmur a word about calling off the wedding.”
Stephan was not satisfied with his daughter’s assurances. “You can’t be smug where the Dutchman is concerned,” he growled. “Regan can’t be made the fool, like Tyler Sinclair, or even be trifled with, like his son. Now get your wits about you, you little ninny!” He shook her violently to punctuate his words.
“Get your hands off me, Father,” Camilla sneered, her voice low and seething. “I tell you nothing has happened between Regan and myself. But perhaps it should! Caleb is much more to my liking! And rich, too! As for Tyler, don’t underestimate him, Father. He’s not quite the fool you think him!” Roughly, she pushed him away from her. “Ooh! If I had any sense at all, I would quit this whole business and run to Tyler and beg him to tell his parents about us! The Baron and Baroness would accept me if I promised never to have another thing to do with you! It’s you they object to, Father, not me!”
With lightning speed Stephan brought up his hand and cracked her soundly on her face. Camilla staggered backward, tears springing from her astounded eyes.
“So this is what I get for being a devoted father! Treachery! Bah! You are like all women, faithless, traitorous! Like your mother!” He loomed over her, his face contorted with hate. “I should have done away with you when I did away with her. I should have known you would leave childhood behind and grow to womanhood!” He spit the word “womanhood” as though it were the name of a leprous disease. “As for our plans, they will be executed on schedule. You will marry van der Rhys. After we have secured his fortunes, if you wish, I will make you a lovely young widow. Until then, see you behave accordingly!” He stalked from the room, leaving Camilla nursing her wounded face.
She stared after him, horror mingled with astonishment dulling her pansy eyes. Until this moment she had never been frightened of her father. She had always thought his remarks concerning widowhood were in jest. He had often threatened to do away with Tyler if he became a nuisance, but he had actually seemed serious when he said he would rid her of Regan. A chill crept up her spine when at last she was able to face the statement he had made concerning her mother. “... I did away with her!” A nightmare memory of her mother’s face as the coach drove out the drive flashed before her. Her eyes so empty and hopeless, that simple gesture of lifting her hand to wave good-bye.
“Oh, God! No, God, no!” Camilla gasped, sinking to her knees on the thick carpet. “She knew! Mother knew what he was doing to her!”