Raised By Wolves 2 - Matelots (55 page)

This startled her. “Nay.” She gave a sad little bark of laughter. “I am quite serious in my intentions, whatever they might be… Aye, I am drawn to dark-haired men and he is quite handsome. And aye, it is heady to have a man pay me heed. But… I became sincerely enamored with him when he expressed interest in my knowledge of business and was willing to discuss such things with me. And then, of course, there is the admiration you have shown him, that leads me to believe my consideration of him would be well-founded.”

“It is,” I said. “I would be proud to have him as a brother-in-law, truly; but there is the complication of Pete. If I had known you possessed such goals, and had the opportunity to give you counsel on the matter beforehand, I would have advised you to court Pete: not to woo him for love, but to woo him into giving his blessing to the other. As it stands now, Pete is already angry and I feel Striker will have to choose between his matelot and having a future he yearns for.”

“It has all happened so fast,” she said sadly. “I would not hurt anyone or divide them.”

“Aye,” I sighed, “but it has been long in the making. I love them as brothers, and I would have neither of them hurt, but I… feel strongly that a man, or a woman, should follow his or her heart. Striker must find his course, and you must find yours. I feel Pete already has his, but it is… damn. It leads another astray, perhaps, or keeps them from the path that might bring the most happiness.”

I hazarded a look at Gaston, as my words had found guilt in my heart. He smiled reassuringly and it was as if he read my mind yet again.

“I have found my course,” he said quietly.

Sarah was regarding us curiously.

He looked to her. “I do not favor men, but as the sex of my lover is the least aspect of concern in my finding one who will accept me and who I can love, I am happy to take your brother in the form the Gods saw fit to deliver him in.”

I kissed him lightly and whispered, “Thank you.”

The shadow at his side made a small noise, and I realized we still had Agnes with us.

She pawed a tear from her eye and said, “That is so romantic.” Then she glanced at my sister. “It all is.”

“Agnes,” I said kindly, “someday you will find the one you seek.”

She nodded, but I did not think she believed me.

We finished our way to the King’s House and bid the women goodnight. We learned Uncle Cedric and Rucker were staying at the plantation they had been invited to tour. I informed Coswold as to the time of the nuptials, and arranged that a messenger should be sent first thing in the morning to fetch my uncle.

Then Gaston and I were at last alone. We returned as we had come, avoiding the drunken buccaneers thronging Thames and silently slipping through alleys and side streets. I was pleased we were alone, yet I did not know what I wished to say. He seemed likewise intent on reaching our goal.

As we came in sight of the house, I put a hand on his shoulder and drew him into a shadow. He regarded me expectantly.

“I wanted a moment alone before we step into… whatever…” I sighed.

He embraced me and whispered, “I do not know what I wish to say, I only know what I wish to do.”

He did not seem to be hard between us.

“And what is that?” I asked with sincere curiosity.

“Hold you. I am sure the other will occur too, but first I wish to hold you.”

I was content with that, and so we stood for a time and listened to the city around us. There was gunfire on Thames which quickly became the sounds of a good-sized fight spilling from a tavern. In the house we leaned against, a woman was singing a lullaby.

“Is she lovely?” he asked.

“Who?” I murmured.

“The Bride,” he said with amusement.

I frowned. “You would find her form pleasing, but there is little of merit within that vessel. But perhaps… She apparently heard much of me from Shane, and perhaps she was unfairly prejudiced against me.

I would at least have an amicable truce with the woman. I feel I should strive for that, though little more.”

“She has met the Damn Cousin?” he asked with a touch of anger.

I shrugged. “Aye, or so she claims.”

“And you truly feel she needs the marriage such that she will not trouble us?”

I sighed. “I feel that is so, and of more import, I feel we have the high ground from which to negotiate. Though the end result might be that I never return to England, which is a thing I will not find sorrow in.”

After a moment, Gaston said, “I do not feel Pete will attempt to harm either of them.”

“That is good to hear. Why?” I asked.

“He is more sad than angry. He saw what we all did. He wishes for Striker to be happy.”

“Perhaps something amicable can be achieved there as well,” I said with hope.

“Perhaps,” he sighed with little conviction. “I do not wish to meet the Bride, but I would at least see her from a distance.”

“She does not wish to meet you, either.” I held him tighter. “How are you feeling?”

“That this is a bothersome step in achieving a wanted goal.” He sighed. “The Horse wishes to confront her and explain that you are mine and she is nothing. It does not wish to kill her, though. It just wishes for her to know her place.”

“I find that understandable,” I said. “It would bring an end to the affair, but it is understandable. Please assure the Horse I have done much to make her aware of her lack of importance and I will continue to do so.”

He chuckled softly in my ear and then kissed me upon it.

“You were correct,” he sighed. “It would have been best if you had been able to counsel your sister to court Pete first. I know I would like the Bride to acknowledge me.”

“And Pete, being all Horse, oui…” I sighed. “Perhaps…”

He shook his head. “It is as you said, now too late. Striker must choose.”

“I refuse to give up hope.”

“That is one of the things I love about you,” he sighed.

My manhood had been stirring at his proximity for a time, and at last I felt an answer in his. We reluctantly left our shadow and approached the house. To our surprise, we found it empty save for the dogs. Neither of us thought that a good thing. It would have been best if we had found our wolves here talking, but perhaps that was too much to hope for. I prayed they were both well and together.

And so we miraculously had all the privacy we could crave for this night before my wedding. We made good use of it, and wrung each other dry many times over. I did not complain when he left me well-marked.

I did not care what she might think. I wanted every facet of his being to know that come what may, I was his.

We woke in the morning to a polite rapping on our door. Though we reached for weapons by reflex, neither of us was alarmed. It was Agnes. She had arrived with my sister. We grudgingly climbed out of our hammock and into our clothes. As we walked downstairs, we were greeted by the somewhat heavenly morning odor of fried fish and plantains. Sarah and Agnes grinned at us from the table, which was set with plates and food.

I was about to offer them proper greeting when I saw a gruff-looking man of middle age. He studied me warily, his hand not far from the worn hilt of a rapier. It would have done him little good as, behind me, Gaston had drawn a pistol.

“Who is this?” I asked my sister.

“This is Mister Ashland,” she said tiredly. “He is in the employ of Miss Barclay. He felt we should be escorted here.”

I thought that absurd, and then realized she was a young lady.

“You should be escorted while you are about town,” I said. “A sober buccaneer would not be so foolish as to accost you, but the drunken ones are another matter and they can be about at any hour. And of course, there are the bondsmen and planters and all other manner of men. It is probably not safe for an attractive young lady who is unknown to the general populace to be unescorted. Once it is known who you are, few would be foolish enough to harm you, but for now, you might be threatened. And either way, you should be armed at all times.”

“I do not have a piece,” she said. “But I have seen Agnes’. I would have one similar to it.”

“We will go by the gunsmith’s, then,” I said.

I looked about, Ashland was still standing there with a furrowed brow.

“I appreciate your diligence, Mister Ashland, but you may go now,” I told him.

“Mister Williams said his niece should not go about unescorted. I would know who you are, sir,” he said with no deference.

I snorted. “I am Lord Marsdale, your mistress’ betrothed. I am also Miss Williams’ brother.”

He frowned at that, but then the trace of a smile played about his thin lips. “My Lord,” he said and bowed properly. “Coswold mentioned that you were not as he expected.”

I smiled. “I am as few people expect, Mister Ashland.”

This brought a true smile to his lips, and I decided I liked him better than Coswold.

“I’ll leave her in your care then, my Lord,” he said. He bowed again and left.

I turned to frown at Sarah. “Did you not tell him who you came to see?”

She rolled her eyes with annoyance. “He was angry because I slipped away from him yesterday. He caught us preparing to leave this morning and spoke to me as if I were a child. I was quite annoyed with him. I told him he was welcome to escort me, but where I chose to go was my business and not his.”

“How does he get on with Miss Barclay?” I asked.

Sarah shrugged. “She hates him and I feel it is mutual.”

“So I take it his being in her employ is not her doing?” I asked.

Sarah shook her head and then she sighed. “Nay, he is Whitlock’s man. I think it likely he was assigned to guard her so that she might reach you intact, as it were. I should not be angry with him for treating me as he does her, but it does rankle that he seems to think all young ladies are wayward.”

“Oh,” I said with amusement. “This relates to the trouble involving another suitor you spoke of last night.”

“Aye, truly Will, if the situation with Shane had not upset everything as it did, I feel Father would have canceled the engagement in the name of her behavior.”

“So it is possible I will not be bedding a maid this night?” I asked with amusement.

“It is possible,” she admitted.

“It is normally acceptable for a man to refuse a bride on those grounds,” I noted.

She shrugged.

“I am confused,” I said, and glanced to Gaston, who was frowning as I was. “What is Father’s goal in this? He demands I marry the woman and threatens my inheritance, and then sends me a bride he was considering rejecting, and whom I have every right to reject.”

“I do not know, Will,” Sarah said with a frown. “But in looking at it as you are now, I see that there does seem to be something amiss.”

“I still contend your father wishes for you to fail,” Gaston said as he took a seat at the table.

“Elizabeth is with child, or was when I left England,” Sarah said.

I had to think to recall who Elizabeth was and why that might be important.

“Elizabeth is our sister,” I explained in response to Gaston’s and Agnes’ frowns. “If it is a male child, it would theoretically be next in line for the title if I were dead.”

“Can he not adopt the Damn Cousin?” Gaston asked.

“I have often wondered why he has not,” I sighed.

“He might if…” Sarah stopped her words with a sigh and bit her lip.

I regarded her with curiosity. “If I were dead?”

“People have often asked if you still lived,” she said with a perplexed mien. “And Father has sometimes said he did not know, but I remember one occasion where Uncle contradicted him in public and said he had received a letter from you. Father immediately spoke of how you were off studying art or some such thing.”

“That is interesting,” I said. “Uncle Cedric told me of Father saying such things, but he did not tell me the context, and he attempted to lead me to believe Father had high hopes I was doing well.”

“Well, Father told that kind of tale often enough after that,” she said. “People still asked of you on occasion. And… well, there were rumors all about that you favored men. I believe Shane might have been responsible for most of them. So it is assumed by many – and I know this from speaking to a number of young women at various balls – that you were off in France or elsewhere living the life of a libertine and that you would return someday and settle down.”

It began to become clear for me. I began to pace as I followed the meandering path of my thoughts.

“So Father could not claim me dead and adopt Shane if I was still alive and others expected me to return. And as he did not know anything of my whereabouts, he could do little to mitigate the state of limbo I left him in. And then I returned, and others heard of it. And now he has a son he must discredit or… Or I must die, in order for him to achieve his goals. And Shane’s marrying you would not have accomplished all he sought, since you are the second daughter and not the first, and Elizabeth was due to wed when I arrived. Which means Shane was not privy to Father’s plan when he courted you. And now…”

I looked to Sarah again. “I assume many knew of Miss Barclay’s unacceptable behavior or wishes.”

She nodded.

“And that is why Father would have broken the betrothal,” I said.

She nodded again.

I nodded. “But his hand was rushed, and so he sent her anyway.

And he wins however it turns out, as long as I refuse her. He expected me to refuse even an acceptable bride. Then in the court of public opinion he could claim any number of things about my not being suitable and disinherit me. But, in sending an unsuitable bride, he is assured that I will refuse, and yet he takes more of a gamble with public opinion over the matter, which is why he would have refused her if events had not occurred as they did. Perhaps in this case, if I refuse her I will merely buy myself time and he will send another, one that has an impeccable history. And in the meantime, Miss Barclay will return to England and tell quite the tale of my unrestrained hedonism and sodomy, and thus strengthen his eventual case – if not make it for him despite her ill repute.”

“I must admit that sounds plausible,” Sarah said.