Regan waited for the answer he dreaded. His agate eyes implored her to refute his accusation. When she remained silent, her eyes glittering and her face still as if carved from stone, a chain of steel closed around his heart. Why did he think she would deny the allegation? Was he hoping against hope that the charge was false when he knew it wasn’t? Why did he care? Why was he standing here next to her making demands and why was she holding a rapier over him threatening to slice his manhood from his body? The child was his and he meant to have him. And he would have her too … when he was ready. The woman hadn’t been born who could resist him.

  He shrugged elaborately and backed off still another step. The agate eyes warmed and he smiled slightly to show her he was bowing to her demands. Sirena sighed inwardly and thanked God she could lay down her weapon. One killing was enough. She had wrestled with the question of whether she could harm Regan once before. Then she had decided she could never pierce that beloved flesh. Now she knew she would have carved the heart from his body if he had attempted to take the baby from her.

  Regan watched her through narrowed eyes and decided he had been magnanimous enough for one day. “Go, see to our son,” he laughed. “Caleb and I will see that a meal is prepared. You’ll be called down for dinner. We sail for Batavia the first thing in the morning, the crew will have set in stores by then.”

  Sirena didn’t bother to answer him. She had no intention of going anywhere with him, least of all to Batavia.

  His mood jovial, Regan clapped Caleb on the back. Caleb wasn’t fooled, not for a minute. Regan was a wounded lion. This was a show of bravado and he would brazen it out to the death. Sirena was right. Men did think with their loins. That it was his father made no difference to him. She had won again. But only for the moment. Regan would have the baby. He had the law on his side. What could Sirena do in the face of the law? She couldn’t kill everyone with that deadly rapier of hers. Besides, she was a mother now and mothers didn’t do things like that.

  A horrible vision of Sirena fighting a duel with a baby clutching at her leg made him gasp. His father cast a disapproving look in his direction. He had to talk to her. There had to be a way to get her to stop and listen to Regan. She loved him and he loved her. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why did there always have to be problems? If it wasn’t for that oily Spaniard everything would be all right. His eyes fell to the streaks of blood on the marble floor and he winced. So much blood! For a skinny man, the Spaniard had bled a lot. He shrugged. He deserved to die and if Sirena hadn’t killed him, then Regan would have.

  “I know you want to see your new brother and I’m sure Sirena won’t have any objections to your looking at him—go ahead, boy,” Regan said kindly. “I’ll see to having … this removed and the blood cleaned up. We don’t want to dine with congealed blood at our feet.”

  Caleb shuddered at the words and bolted from the room in search of Sirena and his new brother. He skidded to a stop, not knowing which direction to take in the enormous house. Caleb bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Sirena!”

  Frau Holtz stuck her head out of the door and beckoned him in as she craned her thick neck first to the right and then to the left. Satisfied that her former employer was nowhere in sight, she held the door wide and Caleb scooted through. He couldn’t help but hear the bolt slide across the heavy door after he was inside.

  “Little brother, so we meet once more. Come here,” Sirena said, holding out her arms to the boy. Shyly, Caleb let her embrace him without flinching. He was too old for this motherly display of affection. Mothers always wanted to do that to children. Now that Sirena was a mother she would be wanting to kiss and hug him all the time. He grinned slightly and decided he could bear with it. He could never deny Sirena anything. “Come and see your brother. I think he has your eyes. What do you think, Frau Holtz, does little Mikel have Caleb’s eyes?”

  “Ja, he has the boy’s eyes and the jaw of his father and the hair of his father, and soon his hands and feet will grow to the size of his father’s,” the old woman said dourly. “At the moment his disposition is his own, but for how long can only be a guess.”

  Sirena smiled in spite of herself. The housekeeper adored the infant and would die to protect him.

  Caleb stood fidgeting on first one foot and then the other as Frau Holtz pulled back the blanket and he gazed at the small pink face crowned with golden fuzz. Caleb frowned—what was all the fuss? It didn’t look like much of anything. He shrugged elaborately and said something polite to Sirena.

  Sirena laughed, “I know exactly what you’re thinking, that he looks like a plump, dried fig, right?”

  “I … I didn’t say that,” Caleb stammered.

  “You didn’t have to, little brother. I fear I taught you too well. But I told you to speak the truth, the infant looks like a dried fig at the moment. Soon he’ll be beautiful and grow to be a handsome, sturdy boy like his brother. I hesitate to say this, but you resembled the little one yourself when you were little. All babies look like this when they’re first born.”

  Caleb gulped with emotion, “I’ll teach him everything I know.”

  “I’m sorry, Caleb, that won’t be possible. I’m taking the baby back to Spain with me. You’ll be leaving with your father to go back to Batavia. Perhaps one day you’ll come to Spain and then you can visit with your little brother. It has to be,” she said sadly at the look she read in the boy’s eyes. “I told you a long time ago that this could never be. Too much has happened for me to go on with Regan. Chaezar and Gretchen would always lay between us.” She shook her head sadly. “No, it can never be.”

  “Sirena you must listen to me. Regan is downstairs pretending to be jovial. He doesn’t fool me at all. We’ve been to Spain and back searching for you. He’ll have the baby and that’s all there is to it. The law gives him complete control over his son. You of all people know that. What are you thinking of to deny him the sight of his son?”

  “The right of … never mind. It doesn’t matter. The child is mine and I’m taking him to Spain.”

  “The baby is Regan’s too, and he says he’s taking him to Batavia. He’ll use the law if he has to. I think he’d kill you, Sirena, if you tried to take the little one.”

  Sirena blinked. The boy’s words didn’t shock her, it was the certainty in his voice that sent fear coursing through her veins. “He’s mine!” she shouted.

  “And Regan’s,” Caleb said quietly. “Think about what I said, Sirena. Regan’s not thinking with his loins now. His mind is crystal clear and sharp as an ax. The baby has a father.”

  Sirena and Frau Holtz watched the slender boy’s retreating back as the baby Mikel fell into a quiet sleep. He had a father, true, but one who did not love his mother.

  Regan had little trouble in bringing the black-skinned household staff under his command. They were terrified of this tall, golden-haired sun god but they followed his pantomimed commands faithfully. Chaezar had instilled fear in them, but was incapable of commanding their respect.

  Within moments the servants removed Chaezar’s battered, bloody body, and pails of steaming soapy water were coursing down the marble stairs. Soon there would be no trace of the scarlet blood which stretched across the floor like gay streamers at a pagan festival.

  Satisfied that his orders were being carried out, he headed for the kitchen regions and managed to make himself understood. Dinner would be served at eight and a messenger was sent to tell the guests who were to arrive of Chaezar’s untimely death. After seeing the messenger dispatched, he gave the order for bath water and sent Caleb to the horses for clean clothes from his saddlebag.

  An hour later he rapped smartly at the door of the nursery and waited for admittance. He was not surprised when Sirena herself opened the door and stood aside for him to enter. She pointed to the small wicker cradle and watched as Regan gently pulled aside the coverlet. She heard his indrawn breath and smiled to herself. The bastard would take the sole credit for the small miracle of Mikel’s birth. Regan bent over the basket and picked up the tiny babe. Sirena watched, her face passive. She saw the love in his eyes, felt the tenderness as he cradled the small bundle to his chest. Their eyes locked in a fleeting moment of understanding.

  “His name is Mikel,” Sirena said quietly.

  “Mikel is a good name. It’s a strong name. I approve of your choice,” Regan said seriously.

  “He has your chin,” Sirena said.

  “And your feet and hands!” Frau Holtz blustered.

  “Ja, I see all these things, I’m satisfied,” he said, placing the baby tenderly back in its cradle. He straightened the thin covering and placed his sun-darkened hand on the golden head for a moment. “A son is the greatest gift a woman can give a man,” he said quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself. At first Sirena thought he meant her to hear the words but changed her mind when he straightened from the cradle and, without looking at her or Frau Holtz, left the room. His eyes were far away, focused on some other time and place, perhaps reliving the moment he first looked at Caleb. A stab of pity forced Sirena to blink and bite into her lips to prevent herself from crying out.

  Regan, Caleb at his side, walked through the lush tropical gardens as dusk settled around the massive, ornate house that had been Chaezar’s palace. He squinted into the semi-darkness and clenched his teeth at what he saw. Row upon row of nutmeg trees as far as the eye could see. The bastard! How could he have betrayed his own country as he did? The trees must be destroyed.

  Caleb, sensing his father’s mood, spoke softly in the gathering dusk: “Father, what will you do? If we sail at dawn as you said, there’s no way for you to do anything about the trees.”

  “After dinner I’ll either set fire to the groves, or along with the servants from the house, I’ll rip every tree from the ground with my bare hands.”

  “There must be thousands,” Caleb said dubiously. “If you set a fire it could easily get out of control.”

  “Not if it’s done properly. I’ll think on the matter while we look upon this … kingdom. Tell me, young Caleb, have you ever seen anything to equal this?”

  Caleb shook his head as he craned his neck to look at the house behind him. “It is fit for a king. Señor Alvarez must have spent fortunes to have this built.”

  At the mention of the Spaniard’s name Caleb felt the stiffening in Regan’s arm and wished he hadn’t spoken. Thinking to take his mind off the dead man, he spoke of the baby: “And do you think he looks like a dried fig, Father?”

  Regan laughed, a happy sound in the quiet evening. “Now that you mention it, he did resemble a dried fig. But then so did you. Before long he’ll be a strapping young man much like yourself. His name is Mikel. What do you think of that?” he asked proudly.

  Caleb rolled the name around on his tongue and smiled. “Yes, I like the name, my brother Mikel,” he laughed.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with the little one on the voyage home.”

  Caleb looked at his father, a puzzled look on his face. “You know a lot about babies, Father. I thought men left that to the mothers and nurses.”

  “That’s true in some households. My children are important to me. One day all that I have will go to my sons. Many a night I myself walked the floor with you when you had a fever. Your mother and I took turns sitting by your side and taking care of you. We wouldn’t trust you to a nurse.” The harsh voice had softened and was almost humble.

  “Does Sirena know you feel like this, Father? Perhaps if you explained she wouldn’t hold such bitterness toward you. She says the baby is hers and she’ll take him back to Spain.”

  “The child belongs to both of us. She won’t take him back to Spain. She’ll sail with us in the morning to Batavia. The baby will need her. She has no choice in the matter. There are laws that govern matters such as these and Sirena knows she must do as I say.”

  Caleb spoke hesitantly: “A compromise …”

  “There will be no compromise. She’ll sail with us.”

  “She’ll kill you if you try to take her baby,” Caleb said nervously. “I saw it in her eyes.”

  “And I’ll kill her if she tries to take him from me. An impasse, woudn’t you say?”

  “A compromise, Father, that’s the answer.” A feeling of doom settled over the boy’s shoulders as Regan swung him around to face him.

  “I said there will be no compromise. The child is mine!”

  “He belongs to Sirena, too, she gave birth to him.”

  Regan dismissed the boy’s quiet words as if they had no meaning. “The child is mine,” he repeated coldly.

  Caleb shook his father’s hands from his shoulders and backed off a step. “A baby should stay with his mother,” he said stubbornly, his eyes angry and unforgiving.

  “If it comes to a decision, which ship would you sail, boy, mine or Sirena’s?”

  Caleb ground his teeth together while he clenched his fists at his side. He met his father’s cold blue eyes and clenched his teeth even tighter.

  Regan knew he would get no response from the boy. In his heart he knew what the answer would be if the boy chose to reply. His shoulders slumped and Caleb gulped back a sob which threatened to choke him.

  Why couldn’t they solve their differences and start a new life, Caleb agonized inwardly. He was torn as never before and now he had more cause for worry. Perhaps he should take the new baby and run away and then they would see what fools they were. Dejecttedly, he walked back through the sweet-smelling gardens and into the house.

  Regan poured himself a generous glass of wine from Chaezar’s bountiful wine cellar and sat down to think. He had to think! His eyes burned and his arms ached, for Sirena, for the Sea Siren. He was a fool! Why had he said the things he did? Why couldn’t he get the picture of Alvarez and Sirena out of his mind? She didn’t deny his allegation, so therefore that meant she had bedded the bastard. It was true the child could have been Chaezar’s. Still there had been no need for him to say the cutting things he had said. For a moment, a tiny brief moment, he had read something in those glittering green eyes. Sadness, remorse? Whatever, it was gone too quickly for him even to be sure he had seen something. Caleb was right, she would kill him if he took the baby from her.

  Yet, there was no way on this earth he would let her take the child from him. She would have to come back to Batavia with him. The child would need its mother at this tender age. Perhaps if he promised her something she would come willingly. What could he promise that could ever make her come willingly? Nothing. There was nothing she wanted from him except her son and that was the one thing he could not, could never, give her.

  Then he would have to trick her somehow. Caleb said she never lied. He would trick her and then make her promise him she … Wearily, he shook his head, his mind whirling. What could he say to this cold-eyed woman who carried his name and was the mother of his son? There had been a time aboard ship when he swore she felt the same about him as he did for her, and then that time in her room when he had behaved like a wild animal. Would she forget that so easily? Now that he knew she had bedded the Spaniard he would never be able to get it out of his mind. Visions would always float before his eyes. Would he be able to make love to her like a husband and not let thoughts of Alvarez come between him and the woman he wanted to love? Why did he even want her, why did he still lust for her? What was there about the green-eyed witch that could set his blood to a boil and make him light-headed with desire? He wanted her as he had never wanted anything in his life. He wanted her at his side with his children. He would love her as no man ever loved a woman before. Why couldn’t she see that? Why did she have to hate him and torment him as she did? Was she being torn as he was? No. She felt nothing for him, she had made that clear from the start. The question was, could he live without her? Could he live in the same house with her and not go near her? Never!

  Angrily, he kicked a teak chair and cried out with pain. It wasn’t the pain in his booted foot that caused him to cry out but the pain of his own inadequacy. What in the name of God was he to do? If he wasn’t careful he would be lying in a pool of his own blood while his wife and two sons and that damnable housekeeper sailed off on his brig. She couldn’t kill him, not the father of her child—or could she? For the first time in his life he was alone, truly alone, and he didn’t like the feeling. This was a time in his life that he wanted to share. That also was strange, he had never had the desire to share anything with anyone, not even Tita. Why did Sirena have this effect on him?

  Angrily he drove his clenched fist into the softness of the brocade sofa on which he sat. If he told her he didn’t believe the things he said about her and Chaezar, that he just said them to make her angry, would she then … ? He drove his other fist into the softness of the shiny sofa and knew the answer. It was too late. There was nothing left in her now but love for her son, and soon he would take that from her too. There was no answer for him anywhere.

  He poured himself more wine and drank it in a gulp. He poured another and then still another glass. By the time the servant went to fetch Sirena to the table he was roaring drunk and Sirena watched him through narrowed eyes and felt saddened.

  “Are you packed for the trip tomorrow?” he asked, his speech slurred. Sirena didn’t bother to answer but picked daintily at the fish on her plate.

  “Answer me, damn you! I asked if you were packed,” he enunciated clearly, to be sure she understood. Receiving no reply, he stood up and glared at her. Still she didn’t answer, only toyed with the food on her plate.

  Regan picked up the decanter of wine resting next to his plate and waved it in the air. “Damn you, answer me! I don’t talk to hear myself. If you aren’t careful,” he said, his eyes gleaming, “you may find yourself on the floor and me atop you.”

  Sirena raised her eyes to meet his and smiled slightly. “They will be ready when you are, Mynheer,” she said softly.