A Pirate's Love

  "Then, two days later, it was our misfortune to be sighted by a private vessel. Turks they were, and a merciless lot. Seein' how crippled we were, they wasted no time in attackin' us, and in less than an hour we were boarded. They were disappointed with our small cargo, and quickly decided to sell all those who were left alive, in order to make their venture worthwhile.

  "The next nine years were a bit of hell, and it was only my will to return to France that kept me alive in the beginnin'. But bein' shackled to the oars of an Egyptian barge for what seemed like an eternity slowly eroded my will to live. But finally the opportunity came to escape, and I took it, along with the rest of the poor souls who could barely be called men. We had chosen the right time, for that hellship was carryin' a fortune in gold and jewels that day. When it was divided among those of us who were left, I found that I was richer than I was when the Turks attacked us.

  "It took me a year to gain back me strength, but in my heart, I felt it was too late to return to France. I purchased a ship, and for three years I waged my own personal war on any Turkish vessel or slave ship I could find. But then I lost my taste for revenge. So these last two years I've hired my ship out to carry cargo up to the Colonies, and done battle with a few plate ships that saw fit to attack me first, but I've continued to chase down any slave ship I come across and free the poor devils within."

  "If only you had not been so proud when we were young, Ryan, we could have been together all these years," Jossel said wistfully, thinking of all that Casey had suffered, and all the time she had spent in a love­less marriage.

  "What's done is done," Casey replied, bringing her hand to his lips. "We're together now, so let us forget the past." He looked at Tristan and smiled amiably. "If it were not for you, lad, I wouldn't have found Jossel again. You have my deepest thanks for bringin' her here."

  "You're a blasted hypocrite, Casey," Tristan replied, though not harshly. "Your lady is here only because I brought her daughter here. Will you thank me for bring­ing Bettina here also?"

  "Can you not forget your resentment, Tristan, and see that I am only doin' what's right for Bettina?"

  "What I see is that you had no qualms about making love to a married woman, getting her with child, and then leaving her," Tristan said bitterly. "Where were your high principles then?"

  "I loved Jossel, and her marriage was not a happy one. If I'd had the means, I'd have taken her with me then, but I didn't. I always wanted to marry her, so my intentions were honorable even then. Can you say the same?" Casey said calmly.

  "Why are you so obsessed with marriage?" Tristan asked in exasperation. "I've taken care of Bettina and seen to all her needs. We were both content with the way things were—until you came here."

  "Answer me this, Tristan. If you had a daughter— and you might have one soon—would you let some young scoundrel make her his whore?"

  "Bettina is not a whore!" Tristan exploded, his face livid.

  "Nor is she married."

  "Married! I am sick to death of that blasted word!" Tristan stormed, his eyes a dangerous white-blue. "Does marriage guarantee that a man and woman will remain faithful to each other? No! Is it a testimony of undying love? Not in most cases. It keeps a child from being labeled a bastard, but there are too many bastards in this world for that to matter."

  "It is easy for you to scoff at marriage, Tristan, for it is only the woman who is condemned for livin' unlaw­fully with a man," Casey reminded him.

  "Who here condemns Bettina?" Tristan asked angrily. "She lives among friends!"

  "Friends would be the first to pity her," Casey an­swered.

  "Enough of this, please!" Bettina cried, unable to listen to any more. She rose from the table and went to stand before the fire, gazing down at the dancing yellow flames.

  "Bettina is right, Ryan," Jossel scolded in a whisper. "If you and Tristan insist on discussing her so frankly, with no thought to her feelings, then do it when she can­not hear you."

  "Your advice is unnecessary, madame, for there will be no more discussions on this subject," Tristan said coldly.

  He left the table and slowly approached Bettina by the fire. When he stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, he could feel her stiffen at his touch.

  "Are you all right, little one?" Tristan asked in a gentle voice.

  "Yes."

  Her answer was but a whisper and left doubt in his mind. He turned her around to face him and saw that her green eyes were filled with shining tears, making his heart ache. He wiped her tears away, then held her face in his hands.

  "I'm sorry, Bettina. I don't want you to think that because I don't want to marry you I don't want you anymore. I want you more than I've ever wanted any­thing. But marriage scares me to deathl I have lived my live independently, with no responsibilities—needing no one."

  "You do not have to explain yourself to me," Bettina said with a smile, her eyes deep pools of blue. "I have grown quite fond of you, Tristan. In fact, I—I think I am in love with you. But I do not want you to marry me unless you want it with all your heart. It is enough that you want me."

  He kissed her tenderly for a long moment, feeling as if his greatest wish had just been granted, but also feel­ing uncertain. He knew he wanted Bettina, but he didn't know if he loved her or not. Since he had never been in love with a woman before, he wasn't sure if it was love or just desire that he felt for her. But he felt very happy that she loved him.

  "Bettina, when your year is up, would you stay here with me—live with me as you have been?" Tristan ven­tured.

  "If it were only up to me, I would stay. But I don't think Casey will let me," Bettina replied.

  "Casey again! Your blasted father is going to push me too far yet!" Tristan said harshly as he released her.

  "I cannot apologize for him, Tristan. He is my father and he only wants what is best for me."

  "What he considers is best!"

  "Maybe so, but it is his right," Bettina returned, low­ering her eyelids to hide the pain that suddenly filled her.

  She started to walk past him, but he took her hand to stop her. "Where are you going?"

  "Everyone else has already gone up to bed. I was going to do the same."

  He saw that the hall was indeed empty; then he looked back at Bettina, his eyes softly pleading with her. "If we can't go up together, then stay with me a little longer."

  Her hurt at Tristan's outburst disappeared with his tender words. She let him lead her to the sofa, where he pulled her back against him, his arms wrapped around her. As he held her gently, they could hear the rum­bling of thunder outside, drowning out the soft crackling of the fire.

  "If I come to you in the middle of the night, will you not cry out?" Tristan asked.

  "It would be difficult, for Mama has moved her things into the room next to yours, and Casey took your chest to Mama's old room. He wants us as far apart as possible."

  "I'm not even master of my own house anymore!" Tristan said in exasperation. "Is there nothing you can do, Bettina?"

  "I will talk to Mama tomorrow and ask her to speak to Casey. Perhaps she can get him to relent."

  "I suppose I must be content with that for tonight But Casey damn well better give in."

  Bettina awoke with a start, calling Tristan's name with torment in her voice. She looked at the empty place in the bed beside her, the nightmare that had awakened her lingering vividly in her mind. She had dreamed that after years of devoting herself to Tristan, giving him all her love, he had suddenly cast her out without a second thought because another woman had caught his eye. What Tristan had said in her dream kept reverberating in Bettina's mind: "You must remember that we were never married. It had to end someday."

  She looked about the room, gloomy with the storm raging outside, and suddenly felt depressed and on the verge of tears. Tristan wanted her, of that she was sure, but why couldn't he love her also? She had finally ad­mitted to herself, and to Tristan, that she loved him, and she was slow
ly realizing just how intense that love was. She had given him a chance to declare how he felt about her, but he had only asked her to stay with him.

  He spoke of no greater emotion than desire. Could she be content with that? Could she bear to give him all her love and not be loved in return? But on the other hand, could she bear to leave him and never see him again?

  Bettina pulled back the covers to get up, and shivered in the chilly breeze that swept in through the open window. This would have been a perfect morning to linger in bed, enjoying Tristan's warmth. She hoped he missed her as much as she missed having him beside her at night. She also hoped she could talk Casey into putting an end to their separation.

  Bettina slowly donned a light-blue dress with full, long sleeves to keep her warm on this stormy day. The sky was covered with heavy gray clouds, and she couldn't judge what time of morning it was, but she hoped she would find her mother alone in her room.

  After taking the few steps to the room next to hers, she was disappointed to find it empty. But as she started to go downstairs, her mother appeared at the turn in the corridor.

  "It is so late, I began to worry about you," Jossel said.

  "I must have overslept," Bettina said. "I didn't fall asleep until very late last night." Bettina bit her lip, wondering if her mother would help her talk to Casey. "Mama, can we talk in my room?"

  "Yes, of course."

  They entered the room, and Bettina motioned for her mother to sit down, while she herself moved to the little wooden cradle that Tristan had made only the week before. She touched it gently, setting it in motion; then she turned to face her mother.

  "Mama, you must know that I am very glad you and Casey have found each other, that you are finally mar­ried to the man you have always loved."

  "You do not sound as glad as you say you are, ma cherie," Jossel replied with a slight smile.

  "I am glad for you, Mama, but I guess I am feeling sorry for myself. You found your happiness when Casey came here, but I lost mine."

  "I know you are upset. I was as surprised as you when Ryan forbade you and Tristan to share this room. But this separation could be the best thing for you, Bettina. Ryan is certain that if Tristan is kept from you long enough, he will come around to doing what is right. We talked about it for a long time last night."

  "Tristan and I also talked, Mama. He will not marry me, for he fears such a total commitment. But he has asked me to stay here with him. It would be the same as if we were married, only without the actual vows."

  "But he could leave you at any time!"

  "He could do that even if we were married."

  "A man feels a different responsibility to his wife," Jossel replied.

  "I know. But Tristan is against marriage, and he will not be pushed into it. But I love him, Mama, and I want to stay here with him."

  "So you have finally admitted it to yourself. I knew you loved him, even when you still professed your hatred so strongly," Jossel said with a knowing nod of her head.

  "Perhaps I did love him then, but I am sure of it now. Will you talk to Casey?" Bettina asked hopefully, "I do not want this separation, Mama. It has only been one night, and already I miss Tristan terribly. I want him beside me at night. I need the reassurance that even though I am big with child, he still wants to be with me."

  "I will speak to your father as soon as we are alone," Jossel said. She stood up, took Bettina in her arms, and hugged her. "But if Ryan does not relent, do not give up hope, Bettina. I think you underestimate the power you have over Tristan."

  Bettina came down to dinner that night with a heavy heart. Her mother had talked to Casey in the afternoon, and had just given Bettina his answer. Casey was con­fident that given enough time to think about it, Tristan would see that marriage was the only way. Bettina only wished that she shared some of Casey's confidence. But now she had to tell Tristan that her mother had failed to change Casey's mind.

  Though Bettina deliberately ate slowly, the time seemed to fly by, and, very soon, the moment she had dreaded was at hand. Jossel took Casey up to their room and motioned for Madeleine to go upstairs also, for she knew Bettina and Tristan needed privacy.

  Tristan had been cordial throughout the day, and Bettina knew that he expected her to tell him that Casey had relented. Would he become furious again?

  Bettina left the table without waiting for him, and moved to the sofa. Besides the prospect of arguing with Tristan, she was also extremely uncomfortable tonight, and her back hurt.

  The torrent of rain had continued all day and was still hammering away at the house. Flashes of lightning could be seen from the high windows, and occasional cracks of thunder broke the silence in the large hall.

  Bettina stared at the fire, concentrating hard on the flickering flames. Tristan sat down sideways on the sofa so he could face her, and took her hand in his.

  "Did your mother talk to Casey?" Tristan asked quietly.

  "Yes."

  "And?"

  Bettina took a deep breath. "He has not changed his mind, Tristan. For some reason, he is confident that you will change yours."

  "Then you will defy him," Tristan said calmly. Bettina knew it was a command. Then he added, "You are a grown woman, Bettina. You are old enough to do as you please."

  "If it were my stepfather who had forbidden us to live together, I would do as you ask, for Andree was an uncaring man. But Casey is my real father and he cares for me. He is not doing this to spite you, Tristan, for he is your friend, regardless of what you may think now. He feels he is doing the right thing for me, and I will not go against his wishes."

  "Is this the way you want it?" Tristan asked, hurt.

  "I hate sleeping in your bed alone, Tristan. I want you there with me. When I told you yesterday that I think I am in love with you, I should have been more explicit. I love you with all my heart, Tristan. You are the very breath of my life." Bettina paused. "Give my father time, Tristan. When he sees that you will not give in, perhaps he will."

  Tristan did not answer, but surprised her by leaning back on the sofa and pulling her into his arms. Without talking, he held her for a long time, until they heard the storm end in the late hours of the night.

  Chapter

  It was well into the month of August, the time of year when frequent hurricanes stormed throughout the Caribbean. Maloma would give birth to her child near the end of the month.

  The last month, though not a happy one, had been tranquil. Tristan hadn't argued with Casey again, and generally seemed cheerful. Surprisingly, he'd even joined the celebration of Aleia and Kaino's double wed­ding.

  Tristan kept busy during the days, for he had decided to clear a large area of the forest on the leeward side of the island in order to plant sugarcane. Since most of his men wanted to settle down and raise families, they were eager to help Tristan clear the area and plant the crop for a share in the profits. A small refinery would also have to be built, but this could be done after the crop was planted.

  The last four weeks had been very slow ones for Bettina. The burden of carrying her child was weighing down on her, and she envied Maloma, who didn't have as long to wait. She also missed Tristan.

  She could not spend her nights with him, and Tristan was exhausted in the evenings after working all day. He often drifted off to sleep with her in his arms. She would wake him then, and walk with him to the top of the stairs, but there, with only a tender kiss, they would part and go to their separate rooms.

  In the middle of the night, Madeleine woke Bettina to tell her Maloma's time had come earlier than ex­pected. Jules had finished his house, which was only a half-mile from the big stone fortress, and he and Ma­loma had moved into it over a month before.

  Jules had come for Madeleine, for he had so much respect for the old woman that he wanted her to be the midwife instead of one of the village women. He had also roused Tristan from sleep, and Madeleine, Bettina, and he left quickly for Jules's house.

  Madeleine checked on Mal
oma's condition, then came out of the bedroom to inform them it would be many hours yet before the actual birth. Madeleine told Tristan to start kettles of water boiling, and Jules, since he was in no condition to help in the preparations, was to go to the village to fetch Maloma's mother.

  The sky was turning light blue when Jules returned to the house. Tristan, seeing Jules's dazed state, thrust a tankard of rum in his hand. This was the first time Jules had been present at the birth of one of his children, and he didn't know what to do.

  As the morning progressed, Maloma's mother offered to fix a meal, but nobody felt much like eating. So she took the other three children out into the yard so they wouldn't be underfoot. When the first screams came from the bedroom, Tristan watched Jules turn pale, and then paler still with each scream that followed. He felt sick himself, never realizing until now how much a woman suffered to give birth to a child. Would Bettina have to endure the same pain?

  When the final tormented scream came, Jules cried out to God to spare Maloma's life, thinking she would surely die from such anguish. Even Tristan turned white, and he stood motionless during the silence that followed, until the distinct cry of a child drifted out to them. He then relaxed and clapped his friend on the back, but Jules ran into the bedroom, deaf to the con­gratulations that were called after him.

  A few minutes later, Madeleine came out of the bed­room chuckling to herself.

  "Is Maloma all right?" Tristan asked impatiently.

  "She is fine," Madeleine answered, trying to suppress her mirth. "And so is her son. It was a difficult de­livery."

  "Then may I ask what is so damned amusing?"

  "It is your friend Jules." Madeleine laughed again. "He is in there swearing he will never touch his wife again. He would not listen when I told him it would probably never be so hard on her again."