Raised By Wolves 2 - Matelots (21 page)

“I do not understand,” I implored. “Do you want me?”

He closed his eyes and held very still. I cautiously closed the distance between us.

“Gaston?” I whispered as I touched his arm.

He flinched, but then his hand clutched mine.

“Will. Hold me. Do not let me run.”

I embraced him, and he clung to me. Our hearts slowed, but my mind continued to race through a maze. I could find no exit. I could only hope he would help me understand once he gained control. Thus we held each other in that fashion until the full grey of dusk settled about the alley.

“My love, may we return to Theodore’s?” I murmured.

He nodded, and we walked there, hand in hand. We slipped into the yard from the alley. I bade him sit on the cistern. I wet my kerchief and wiped our faces. He was distant to the world and submitted to my ministrations without reaction.

“How are we?” I asked.

He started, and then slowly shook his head.

“I am sorry, Will,” he whispered.

“No need. Can you speak of it?”

He shook his head.

“Do you wish to eat?”

He gave another shake.

“Then let us be off to bed.”

We encountered Theodore in the back hall.

“We were wondering when you two would return,” he said jovially.

Then his gaze fell upon Gaston and he frowned. My matelot was not looking at him, or at much of anything. I shook my head and mouthed to Theodore that I would speak with him later.

Once I got Gaston into our bed, I knew it would be much later, as my matelot would not release me. I retrieved a bottle of water and a piece of boucan, turned down the lamp, and settled in with him cuddled at my side. He slept.

I did not, for a long time. When I did, my dreams were troubled. A giant hand kept trying to pluck us up and stuff us in a sack to drown us. We ran about in a huge room, hiding beneath the furniture.

In the morning, I woke to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, holding my hand. He appeared calm, and his greeting smile was sad and self-deprecating. I rolled onto my elbow and gave his hand a squeeze.

“How are we?” I asked.

“We are deeply chained to love,” he murmured.

At my frown, he shook his head.

“I am well enough,” he said.

I nodded and waited.

He sighed with a rueful grimace. “All things carnal are very confusing to me.”

“Hmmm, I see that.” I smiled.

He returned it, only to sober quickly with narrowing eyes. “My madness is a thing I only wish to share with you. If you… we… marry, I do not wish for the wife to know. I do not know how this might be possible, though. I suppose she will have to know, but I would not trust another to… care for me when I am thus. This is not because I am ashamed – though I am – and would hold her regard of me in such esteem that I would not wish to sully it. Non, it is because it is a thing of great privacy between us, and I do not wish to allow another into this…

aspect… of our partnership. I do not wish to have another as close as I hold you, ever.”

My heart ached. “Of course, my love. I do not wish for any wife we may take to ever interfere or be involved between us. It will be a thing we do for children, and to appease my father for a time, nothing more.”

He seemed relieved that I understood. “Thus, I will never bed her.”

I nodded. “I will never suggest it again, my love.”

I kept my brow smooth. His words troubled me, but I felt I understood them. They made me all the more proud to love him, as they placed me above all else in his life. But there was the nagging feeling that it was a thing he was possibly doing against his nature, and I did not know how we would resolve that.

“Shall we court Miss Vines?” I asked.

“I feel she will make a fine mother,” he said seriously. “She has qualities that, when combined with yours, should make for excellent children.”

I sighed. “I have not made mention of this before, but those same qualities may make her less than eager to wed.”

He frowned, but nodded his agreement. “I suppose that is so. You will need to discuss it with her. When we visit today, you should inquire as to her feelings on the matter. I am sure I can distract her friend and leave you two alone.”

With bemusement, I wondered what else he had planned for the day.

Yet there were things on my agenda as well.

“Will we discuss last night?” I asked gently.

He met my gaze. “I want you, Will. My lust for her is a thing of the beast. It is a thing without thought. My love of you is a thing of my soul.”

“That is beautiful to hear,” I said with a sad smile, “But, is your lust for her a thing of your Horse?”

He frowned in thought. “Non, not that beast. It is… simply, as you put it, what the Gods intended, though I am not sure if I believe that.

It is my member thinking for itself. My Horse… my Horse wants you.

But…” He grimaced and looked away.

“I am sorry, my love, that I do not understand why, if that is the case, you have not plundered me mercilessly many times over.”

He winced, and sighed guiltily. “Because, Will, my Horse would plunder you mercilessly, and I will not allow it.”

“Oh,” I said stupidly, as a great many things leapt from the shadows so that they now made ordered sense and I could at last perceive the whole of the pattern. As I had feared, his Horse would plunder me whether I was willing or not, and prepared or not, and perhaps his Horse wished to do so if I was not, and thus he thought it evil.

I sagged back onto the bed and contemplated the ceiling.

“I am sorry, Will,” he whispered. “I told you I am an abomination.”

“Non… Why? I mean why would you… it... wish to? If I understand your meaning. Is it because it... you… that there is anger in that it is a thing you would not do if left… if I was not…” I sighed. “Do you feel I have led you astray?”

That was how Shane had felt.

I felt very cold.

He leaned over me, so that he eclipsed all. His eyes were beseeching.

“It is because I wish to possess you as I feel you possess me,” he said earnestly. “I want to drive all memory of the others from you. I want you to submit to me, even if… it pains you. It is evil.”

He wanted to rape me.

He was filled with remorse. I smoothed a tear from his eyes with my thumb and tried to calm my own Horse, which was flailing and plunging about so that I was possessed of the urge to push him away and run.

He would not. He was doing everything he could to mitigate the matter. It was the reason behind our morning regimen. He was entrusting me with horrible thoughts that plagued him, the ones he feared.

I had thoughts I should not think. I let myself envision him upon me, the hard danger in his eyes, his manhood the sharpest of swords.

My traitorous organ stirred quickly. I gasped. Not solely because of its enthusiasm, but because it was joined by another in wanting such a thing. My Horse wanted that very much. It quieted and tensed with anticipation at the idea.

I felt sick.

“I understand,” I whispered. “Non, that is not correct. I do not understand why either of us… My Horse would allow yours to do that very thing, and welcome it.”

He frowned. “Will?”

“Truly. It sickens me. I could not… I could not allow that and live with the aftermath. I could not forgive either of us. Yet, I understand it is a thing of our Horses and… We must control them, else we will ride off a cliff on this matter.”

He dropped to my chest and embraced me. I held him in return. The ceiling was very white. I kept thinking, placing one thought after the next.

“Are you aroused by those evil thoughts?” I asked.

“Oui.”

“But you are not aroused by the idea of bestowing yourself upon me unless it is violent?” I asked.

“It is the knot, Will. Every time I feel I have teased a strand free and begin to follow it, it becomes a jumbled mess again. I cannot make sense of it.”

He pushed up onto his elbows and regarded me.

“I am here,” I whispered.

“I know. And it is the miracle of my life. Yet… it is so unfamiliar, this… being loved. It is all-encompassing. I sometimes wake feeling I am in chains. I feel completely possessed by you. I cannot live without you.

And it is wonderful. But it chafes. In time I am sure I will become inured to the weight of it. But for now, the Horse bucks about.”

The weight of which he spoke covered me again. My Horse did not buck about; it settled under the saddle, or perhaps into the traces. It resented his not wishing to do the same. I smiled sadly.

“I understand,” I said. “I feel, as you do, that it is an unfamiliar burden, yet I take pleasure and reassurance in it.”

He was suffused with guilt once again, and I held him close.

“Non, non, my love,” I murmured. “I do not say that to hurt you. We are different, that is all.”

There was a quiet knock on the door, and we started.

“We will be down for the meal soon,” I snapped.

“I am sorry, sirs,” Hannah said. “There are two boys to see you.”

“Boys?” I asked.

“Aye, sir, masters Chris and Art,” she said. “They say there is no hurry, as you would not be expecting them yet.”

Gaston and I exchanged puzzled looks.

“We will be down shortly,” I called with less rancor.

Her steps receded down the hall.

“There must be some confusion,” I muttered.

“Could it be the boy with the horses?” he asked.

“Non, perhaps, but I feel his name was Cedric. Damn, we will not know until we go down. And I do not wish to go down. We have much to discuss.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then the bridge of my nose, and then the tip, until he reached my lips. That kiss was deep, and I let him take me under with it, into the safety of love, away from fears and Horses and madness.

When he let me up he said, “We have a lifetime to talk, do we not?”

He looked hopeful.

“Forever.” I smiled. “Because as I have said, I will follow you into death not to lose you.”

He was solemn. “Will, you must not ever let me hurt you. I will do all in my power…”

I put my finger to his lips. “It need not be said.”

He kissed my finger and stood. I watched him don his weapons.

Cloying and rancid thoughts curled about my head. I loved him.

Would I stop him? I had not stopped Shane because I had loved him.

The memory of the paralyzing fear I experienced the night of the storm combined with my knowledge that my heart of hearts wanted him to ravage me, and the result did not bode well for my ever fending him off.

But I was correct. I would never forgive either of us if it were to happen. It simply must not come to that.

“What will we do for our regimen this morning?” I asked, as I finally eased out of bed.

“Let us see to eating and the matter of these visitors,” he said smoothly, as if our prior conversation had not occurred. “Then I thought we might retire to the Palisadoes to spar. We can find privacy there afterwards. We will bring the sack as well.”

I nodded and availed myself of the chamber pot. He packed a bag and hefted the sack in question gingerly. I was not sure if I wanted to address his issue with whips today. And then I realized I was not sure if I wished to undergo his fingering me with these new and ugly thoughts swirling about, but I supposed that was the entire point of the exercise.

Hannah informed us our guests were in the yard. Theodore was eating. I glanced outside, there were two lads sitting on the cistern, scuffing their feet in the sand. I did not recognize them. With a shrug, I joined Theodore at the table. Gaston sat in his usual chair and Hannah gave us plates.

“Do you know those boys?” I asked Theodore.

“You do not?” he asked curiously. “They are not ones I employ as couriers. Hannah says they were very specific in asking for Lord Marsdale.”

“I am going to eat,” I sighed, “and then I will discover what misapprehension led them here.”

“Perhaps Massey sent them,” Gaston said.

“There is a thought,” I replied.

“Will you be going by your house, or your ship, today?” Theodore asked.

“Should we?” I asked.

“I wish to submit the land grants today. I still need a few signatures,” he said.

“We will send the men around,” I assured him.

He nodded. “Thank you. And find a surname for Pete.”

With food in our bellies, we at last walked out to greet our guests, Chris and Art. They bounded to their feet at our approach. The taller of the two gave a clumsy bow, made even worse by his failure to remove his hat.

“Good day, my Lord, sir,” he said in the husky voice of a lad not yet a man who wishes to appear older.

There was something vaguely familiar in how retiring the other boy was.

“What is this about?” I asked.

I met the shorter boy’s blue eyes and nearly dropped my jaw. They were the same eyes I had watched over tea the day before.

“Chris, my Lord, we met yesterday, though ye may not remember as we weren’t dressed as we are now,” Miss Vines said with a devilish grin.

I pulled my gaze from her and glanced at Gaston. He recognized her as well.

“This be Art,” she said, and pointed to the very uncomfortable Agnes.

I glanced about, without being obvious, and found us alone.

“Does this ruse work often?” I asked.

“Even with them that know me, my Lord,” she said.

I chuckled. Gaston was not amused. He appeared more knotted with consternation than annoyed, though.

“What are we to do with you?” I asked the girls.

“We were hopin’ to tag along and learn a little of buccaneerin’,” Miss Vines, or rather, Chris, said.

I nodded and grinned. “Ah, all right then, we were going to the Palisadoes to spar.”

“That would be right wonderful ta watch, my Lord. Would ya be willin’ ta teach a soul?”

I actually thought that might offer great amusement. I glanced to Gaston again. He shrugged and returned to the house.

“I think we may find amusement in that,” I said. “On one condition, a buccaneer never calls another of the Brethren sir. And you can kindly skip the my Lords. I am Will, and he is Gaston.”