Raised By Wolves 2 - Matelots (57 page)

He grumbled but acquiesced and let me pass.

Julio was next in my limited choice of paths through the throng. “Do you want us about tonight?” he whispered.

“Julio, I trust your diplomacy as I do few others, but I would not have you both about if Davey will be prone to saying something…

annoying.”

As I said it, I thought it likely Liam would be a larger culprit in that matter.

“I will keep a tight leash on him and not let him trouble Gaston,”

Julio said with a smile.

“Thank you.”

I finally worked my way to where I had last seen Sarah, and found only Dickey, Gaston, and Agnes.

Dickey snatched the coat from my hand and held it up to my face with an exasperated sigh. “Will, truly, you should have visited the tailor weeks ago.” Then he was going through the haberdashery’s stock with Belfry in his wake.

Knowing that matter was now in good hands, I asked, “Where is Sarah?”

“Striker wished to speak with her,” Gaston said quietly and gestured toward the back room.

I looked about: Pete was not in evidence, but the Bard was eying me.

“What is going on?” the Bard asked.

I sighed. “I am marrying the damn bride my father sent. I would invite you all, but it is not a matter I wish to celebrate.”

He frowned. “I am sorry to hear that, but nay, that wasn’t my question. Pete and Striker are not speaking. And who is that woman?”

He jerked a thumb at the back room door.

“She is my sister,” I said quietly.

I looked about and saw Liam sigh. All eyes were upon us now: most filled with curiosity, especially those of the new members of our crew, Nickel, Ash, Burroughs and Bones.

I jumped up to sit on the counter and addressed them all. “In order to supposedly secure my inheritance, I am to marry a bride my father has sent. I am not inviting any of you to the ceremony, as it is not a matter I wish to celebrate. Please have a party in my absence and celebrate the fact that you are not me. As to other matters…” Inspiration came to me, and I thanked the Gods.

“The woman Striker is speaking with is my sister.” I looked to the Bard. “She knows a bit of business from my father and wishes to do something of import while we rove. To that end, she was discussing the start of a shipping concern with Striker and Theodore last night while I was involved with the other matter. Pete was disagreeable to the…” I sighed purposefully and regarded all of them again. “You all know Pete dislikes women, and he likes his matelot talking to one, for whatever reason, not at all.” I shrugged. “They seemed ready to quarrel afterwards, and I have not seen them since.”

This explanation appeared to assuage the lot of them.

“I am not used to doing business with women either,” the Bard said.

“Well, if you want Gaston’s money involved in the endeavor, you will overcome your objections,” I said.

The Bard shrugged.

I glanced at my matelot, who was standing safely behind the counter with Agnes so that he was not crowded in the narrow store. He grinned.

Then he snatched my tunic to pull me to him and whisper in French,

“As usual, your tongue and wit are blessed by Mercury, but it might not be enough if they discover the truth of the matter.”

“And what is that?” I asked. “Did Striker indicate he had made a choice?”

“I do not know,” he sighed. “He came in with the others and spoke only to Sarah. I could not overhear his words, but they were quickly off together behind the closed door.”

I swore quietly and he released me.

I looked to Agnes: she was standing with her back to the wall next to the door in question, with her head slightly cocked. I thought I should chide her for listening, but then she flushed and moved away from the wall quickly; and I was thankful someone had been in a position to learn things that need be known. Not that I truly wished to know what her actions seemed to imply.

I thought it likely I should strangle Striker.

Thankfully, Dickey was loudly explaining how a wig made a man appear dignified, while Liam argued that it was just foolish, and then donned one to everyone’s amusement. Thus none had witnessed what I had, or were paying the matter of Striker’s whereabouts much heed at the moment.

I looked to the Bard again and leaned to him to whisper, “Where is Pete?”

“On the ship,” he said grimly. “He got good and drunk last night, by himself. Striker slept on the quarterdeck.”

“Oh, Bloody Hell,” I sighed.

“My sentiments exactly,” the Bard whispered. “In your opinion, does Striker wish to marry?”

I considered my answer, and thought it permissible to say something to the Bard. “He does not wish to leave the sea and become a planter, but he does wish to have children.”

“And if his matelot were any other than Pete, he would not have much problem with the matter,” the Bard said astutely.

“Aye.”

“What of your sister?” he asked.

I did not choose to misinterpret his question. “They are enamored of one another.”

He grimaced. “Is she as smart as you?” he asked a moment later.

“Aye.”

He shrugged eloquently. “We’ll weather what comes of it, then. The two of them feudin’ all the way to Cuba and beyond is going to be a real pain in the arse, though.”

“Aye,” I sighed.

A woman’s very loud “OH!” cut through our ruminations and our friends’ revelry a moment later. Belfry rushed to the back door. As I could not ascertain whether the sound had issued from my sister or another, and thinking that I did not wish to view the aftermath of the matter that could have elicited such a sound if it were indeed her, I chose to stay where I was.

A red-faced Belfry stepped back through the door and announced awkwardly, “Mistress Belfry had a little stumble on the back stair. She is fine. Do not be alarmed.”

Agnes slipped through the door behind him, and he followed her.

The others returned to trying on wigs, except for Cudro, who was aware something else was amiss. I shrugged at him as he approached.

On one side of me, the Bard was chuckling mirthlessly; on the other, Gaston was livid.

I leaned to my matelot. “What is wrong?”

“What is wrong?” he hissed. “The bastard has likely deflowered your sister in the back room of a haberdashery. If he has made some decision, he could have at least waited until they were married.”

When I viewed the matter that way, my own ire rose. We were through the back door as one, leaving the Bard and Cudro to say what they would to one another.

We did not find Striker, but we did find Agnes helping my very flushed sister straighten her skirts and lace her stays. Belfry was arguing quietly with Mistress Belfry at the top of the stairs.

Sarah looked around and spied Gaston and me, and her hands came to her face with shame.

I crossed the space and pulled them away. “What happened? Not that I am blind, mind you, but…”

“I wanted to kiss him,” she said quietly. “And he me, and then… well it was… we began to touch, and then there was not enough touching in all the world to please us and… oh damn, Will, I feel so wanton.”

I was surprised at my anger even as it engulfed me. “I am going to…”

Gaston was already going to the back door with purpose in his stride.

Sarah threw herself before us and a hand was planted firmly on both our chests. Her grey eyes held storms. “You will do nothing! He is as distraught as I. He wished to speak: to ask me of my feelings, nothing more. I am as responsible as he for what followed.”

It took the wind from my unreasonable anger, and seemed to rob Gaston of his as well. Now my matelot appeared only troubled, and I could guess at much of that. It had a great deal to do with his sister.

I had to address the matter with Sarah first. “I am… I have no pulpit from which to preach on matters such as this. But you are my sister and…”

She smiled grimly, and then with increasing warmth. “Perhaps it is a thing of blood.”

A door slammed upstairs, and we heard Belfry’s heavy sigh on this side of it.

“Mistress Belfry probably thinks even more of our family now,” she said with amusement.

“I hope it disabuses her of her worship of all things noble,” I said.

Sarah giggled. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth to hold it in, but it was to no avail. As I had seen this reaction to a stressful situation before, I stepped on her foot. She swore, but regained her composure.

“It was either that or slap you,” I said with a grin.

“Step on my feet, please,” she agreed.

“Gaston and I must find Striker,” I said. “You should slip out the back. So perhaps we should escort you back to the King’s House.”

“I think that wise,” Agnes said as she slipped in again from the front room carrying her bag and Sarah’s. “They are speaking about what might have occurred. They even asked me what was amiss.”

Belfry had appeared at the base of the stairs next to her. He would not look at my sister.

“I do not know what to tell them,” I said. “If Pete gets wind of this, it will likely sunder them.”

“Pete might become very dangerous,” Gaston added.

“I will tell them Mistress Belfry twisted her ankle,” Belfry offered.

“That will not be enough,” I said. “I am…”

The door opened and Liam stood there, the personification of buccaneer wrath over the betrayal of a matelot. His angry pale blue eyes were on Sarah.

I pushed Sarah behind me.

“Where is Striker?” Cudro asked with amusement from behind the angry Scotsman.

“We were just going to go and search for him,” I said.

“The Hell with that. What ’appened ’ere?” Liam demanded with annoyance.

Sarah stepped out, and with a jutting chin, said, “I wished to flirt with him. I lured him back here to determine how… much he was committed to his man. He became upset with me and left.”

“As ’e should ‘ave!” Liam snapped and stepped forward to meet her.

“Listen Missy, I know ya be Will’s sister an’ all, but we na’ need any trouble o’ yur kind right afore we sail.”

“I will not make the same mistake twice,” she spat.

“See that ya don’t,” he snapped back, and then became flustered at standing face to face with her. “It na’ be that ’e… Well, ’e be a ’andsome man an’ all, an I can understand a girl settin’ eyes on ’im, but…”

“He has a matelot, aye, I know that now,” she said in a calmer tone.

“All right then,” Liam said, and backed away to the doorway. He belatedly doffed his hat and shuffled out.

Cudro leaned in so that he blocked the view from the shop of the back room. “I expect we’ll be laughing about this around a fire someday soon…”

“Some year, perhaps,” I said with a grim smile.

He swore in Dutch and shook his massive head. Then he closed the door.

Agnes and Belfry appeared greatly relieved. Gaston was still somewhat distraught and deep in thought. I was torn between the need to speak to him and the need to applaud my sister. I laughed.

Sarah stomped on my foot.

“You were magnificent,” I gasped. “I wish you had not, though, as I feel in the end it will not be as you implied.”

Tears welled in her eyes and her hand went to her mouth to hold the sobs in. “Oh Will, I hope you are correct. And not merely because I am now… compromised. As I said, Shane lit a fire in my heart, but Striker actually warms me.”

Gaston embraced her, and she clung to him and cried.

I laid a hand on Gaston’s cheek and he turned enough to kiss my palm. His eyes were troubled, but I did not see the Horse.

We apologized to Belfry for all the trouble, gave him money for whatever purchases Dickey deemed necessary, and asked him to send those things and my coat around to our house with Cudro or anyone else who would be coming there soon. Then the four of us slipped out the back. As we walked down the alley, I wondered if the Gods delighted in making love so very difficult, or if the difficulties were actually a test set before us to measure our resolve.

Gaston and I delivered the girls to the King’s House to prepare.

Coswold let us know that they had arranged for a reception to follow the ceremony, and that the governor would be in attendance. I was ill-pleased with that news, but supposed it could not be helped. We also learned that my uncle and Rucker had not yet returned. As it was the hour of noon, I wondered if they would arrive before the ceremony. I wondered if we would have time to locate Striker before it as well. To that end, we hurried from the place and made our way home to see if any had yet seen him. We found Cudro there upon our arrival. He reported that the others were scouring the town for Striker, and Pete was still upon the Virgin Queen, unconscious with drink. As all that could be done was being done, I was left with nothing to do except spend time with Gaston and prepare myself. I was pleased with the one, and dismayed by the other.

“How are we?” I asked Gaston when we were safely alone in our room. “I know events with my sister troubled you.”

He shed his weapons and sat on the hammock with a heavy sigh.

“Does Striker have the key to our manacles?” he asked.

I knelt before him with a heavy sigh of my own and rested my elbows on his knees. “I believe so. You feel that will be necessary? I will not leave you chained to a post.”

He shook his head sadly. “The Horse is not running yet, but I feel it is ready to bolt. It dances beneath me. Every thought, every event, gives it new reason to shy and threaten my seat. I find myself dwelling upon the wiles of women: my sister, yours, the Brisket, or the Damn Bride.

Whether it is intentional or not, they wreak havoc.”

I wished to dispute him and say that women were merely creatures following their desires just as men were, and a man desiring them was what often wreaks the havoc; but from his perspective, I could see where the point was either moot or incorrect.

“They are a necessary evil for mankind to continue?” I offered. “And on occasion they can be delightful.”

He smiled grimly. “I do not dislike your sister.”

“I know. Neither do I, and still I wish she were not here now, or that I had left Striker and Pete upon the ship.”