Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (3 page)

BOOK: Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves
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“Um,” Liamsaid and pushed his floppy leather hat up to scratch his head distractedly. He looked over his shoulder. “Nickel not be the only one o’ us to fall prey to the wiles o’ women, as it were. Though, I don’t think it be a bad thing.”

I followed his gaze and saw Henrietta, the housekeeper, standingnear the cookhouse regardingus intently.
“Youtoo, Liam,”I teased.
“Aye, aye!” he cried. “An’ we be married,” he said with a grimace. He waved Henrietta over.
She hurried up and hooked her arminhis and beamed at us happily. “’As ’e tol’ ya?”

“Aye,”I said. “Congratulations, truly, that is wonderful.”

“Aye,”I said. “Congratulations, truly, that is wonderful.” I tried to keep my concern at Liam’s seeming reluctance from my face—though I thought I well understood his possible doubts. He was the ardent defender of Brethren propriety and comportment: ever preaching about how a man should always stand byhis matelot in the face offemale interlopers. Yet, he had been alone after his beloved Otter died, and he was not a man like me:one who preferred men.

He looked down at Henrietta and smiled in a manner that erased all my fears about whether or not he was devoted to the endeavor.

“I am pleased you have found someone after Otter,” Gaston said for us, and I nodded my agreement and embraced our old friend.

Liam nodded sheepishly. “Aye, I just been worried that there might be those that think I be plannin’ on becomin’ a planter or the like now. Na’ that I want ta rove, mind ya, but…”

“I understand,”I said.

He grinned and looked at his wife again. He frowned. “Well, ya canna’ see it like ya can on Lady Montren, but… We be expectin’ too.”

Henrietta laughed merrily, even as she smacked her husband on the arm. “Aye, ya lout, I na’ be a skinny thing. An’ I na’ be as far along, neither,”she added to Gastonand me.

We gave our congratulations.
Agnes joined us, and I realized she had been gone. Rucker and Bones were hovering nearby, happily watching our exchange with Liam, but Sarah, Striker, and Pete were missing and I guessed they might have gone to look in on a child dear to and I guessed they might have gone to look in on a child dear to their hearts.
“While we wait for the Theodores to arrive,”Agnes said quickly, “I have a thing to show you.” She waved a folded missive witha seal.
We took our leave of the others and followed her into the parlor witha lamp.
“It arrived months ago, but the Marquis sent a note for me sayingI should not openit, but I should give it to youas soon as you returned,” Agnes said as Gaston broke his father’s seal and beganto read.
I was soon alarmed as my matelot’s composure slipped and then disintegrated to such extent that when he finished the letter he threw it on the floor and went to pace at the other end ofthe room.
Agnes regarded me with concern, and I stooped to pick up the pages and took the seat Gaston had vacated and began reading. She perched onthe edge ofthe settee and watched me.
“It is bad news, isn’t it?”Agnes whispered. “Is he well?”
It was not good news: it was awful. Christine was pregnant. Gaston’s father believed it to be his son’s: the get of Gaston’s one unfortunate and violent pairing with her. And that was not the worst of it. Christine’s father, Sir Christopher Vines, had contacted her mother’s family in France: a noble house headed by her uncle the Duke of Verlain. Vines had told them his daughter was married to Gaston, the Comte de Montren, the son of the Marquis de Tervent. Christine was apparently not willing to contradict her father. I surmised she sought Gaston’s name in retribution for… well, our handling of her. She was name in retribution for… well, our handling of her. She was seeking what we had once offered her, a man’s name—without the manattached to it—so that she could do as she would.
Gaston’s father was willing to go along with this if Christine produced a son. To that end, he advised Gaston to wait before trying to get an heir upon Agnes, prayed his son would understand, and apologized profusely for asking such a

thing. I gazed up at Agnes and saw her belly. It was a damn

good thing my matelot had not been inclined to dipping his wick in women prior to last December: he might have populated the island.

“Have youwritten him—the Marquis—about the baby?”

I asked Agnes.
“Nay,” she said. “I thought… Gaston should. And,
though Mister Rucker has been tutoring me in French since you
left, my French is not so very good, yet. I could have had Mister
Rucker write it for me; but, I wanted to do it myself, so that the
Marquis would think wellofme.”
Mymatelot let loose a gutturalmoanofdespair. “What has happened?’ Agnes asked.
“Christine is with child.” I quickly related the rest of the
letter.
She buried her face in her long fingers and sniffed back
tears. “Oh damn it all. I… It matters. There was a time when…”
She dropped her hands awayand met mygaze. “Mymother told
me when I was little that my father came froma noble family, but
thenshe said… She told me that I would never ever benefit from
it: that I could never expect to ask them for anything. She told it: that I could never expect to ask them for anything. She told me that on her death bed: that I am dead to them because my father was dead to them. And I told myself it did not matter. Why did I need to be noble? I watched Christine, and I told myself at least I did not have to be like her; but, secretly…” She shook her head and looked away with her lips between her teeth. “I’ve grown accustomed to being the Comtess de
Montren,”she finallyadded.
Gaston crossed the room in two strides and dropped
down in front of her to growl fiercely, “You are the Comtess de
Montren! I will have no other. I amnot married to that bitch!” It
was his Horse talking: that part of him which was truth and
instinct.
She did not flinch. She nodded sadly.
There was a knock onthe door, and I opened it because
I did not know what to say to my matelot or his wife. Theodore
embraced me before I could even speak a greeting. His pleasure
at our presence was buoying; but sadly, we quickly stripped him
of it and brought himdown to stand in the muck with us once he
turned to see Gastonand Agnes.
“Is somethingwrong?”he asked.
I handed him the letter, and then realized he could not
read French.
“My French is not adequate to this, I’m afraid,” he said
quicklybefore I could retrieve it fromhim.
“You are all studying French?” I asked dully. I vaguely
remembered some talk ofthat before we left.
“Oui,” Theodore said quickly with a tight smile. “But
perhaps youshould tellme ofthis, or read it to me.” I read it to him, translating as I went. He sat and his
pleasant features stiffened into the mask of a barrister’s
concentrationas he listened.
“Well, this is a fine mess,”he said whenI finished. I was reminded ofmytalk withGastonthis evening. “We
bringlittle else to this world but fine tragedy,”I said sadly. “Nay, nay,” Theodore said with a friendly smile. “As I
have ever told mywife, youmerelymake life interesting.” The anger gripping Gaston had departed, and he had
slumped down to sit with his back to the couch on whichAgnes
sat and drape one arm across her knee. He looked up, and his
Horse smiled at me.
I smiled back. There was a time when his Horse being
so evident might have scared me, but we had come so very far.
It was a pleasant thought: we had come so very far, and we
would endure and conquer whatever this brought, as we had
everythingelse the Gods had flungat us.
“There you are!” came from the doorway, and I turned
to find Vivian hurrying in the door, a drowsy little baby in her
arms.
At the sight of the child, my matelot’s more animal self
fled, and he stood and peered at the girl who regarded himwith
sleepyinterest.
“Um,” Vivian said as she regarded him. She glanced at
her daughter who was, of course, too young to understand any
of it. “This is your… papa.” That solution in naming seemed to
please Vivian, and she promptly thrust the now-frowning infant
into mymatelot’s arms.
She turned to me, and surprised me with an embrace. “I
amso glad youare alive.”
I smiled in spite of all else I had been thinking. It was
amusing to hear those words fromsomeone who had wished me
dead onmanyoccasions—and I her.
“Aye, we lived, and you look well, as does the little
one.”
Mywife did indeed look well. She appeared to have lost
most of the weight she had gained while pregnant. Sobriety had
made her beautiful. Her creamy complexion was clear and
bright, her hazel eyes shone, and her long honey-colored hair
glistened in the lamplight. She smiled winsomely at me, and I
could wellsee how Nickelhad become enthralled.
“We need to speak,”she said.
“Nickel,” I said and grinned. “You have my blessing if it
is a thingyouwant. We willhave to sort through…” She cut my words short with a squeal of delight and
embraced me anew. “I knew youwould not be angry! I told him.
But he is so… proper.”
“Quite a change from the noble boys you were raised
around,”I teased.
She laughed. “Aye. Or married.”
She looked to my matelot, who was cooing over her
child, and her happiness dimmed.
“He is not so… enamored with our little Jamaica,
though, as he is withme.”She sighed.
“Good,” I said. “Go and have other children with him;
we willraise her.”
She frowned at that. “Aye, but… Well, we will all live
together, won’t we:insome fashion?”
“I suppose,” I said, contemplating how or where we
would all live in light of the Marquis’ letter and… everyone,
and… I felt very tired and old. I thought of the allegory Gaston
and I shared of our being two centaurs hitched to a wagon into
which we heaped all that we owned. When we roved, it was a
chariot filled with our love. Here, it was a great dray filled with
women and babies and titles and allmanner ofheavy things. And
the road ahead of us was long and seemingly steeper by the
moment.
“We will find some way through the thickets,” I said as
muchfor mybenefit as for anyone else’s.
“You will have to speak with Nickel,” Vivian said and
pulled me deeper into the room, away from the others. “I love
him, truly, as I have never thought I would; but his sense of
propriety is quite entrenched. It is the only thing we have fought
over. It is as if… Well, he will not take my word on the matter:
that you will set me free. I have felt quite insulted. It is…” She
sighed and searched myface.
“He does not trust you?”I asked kindly.
“Aye,” she sighed. “I feel… It is complicated. All here
do not trust me when it comes to a bottle. I have become inured
to it. I have told myselfthat it is for my own good. And there are
times when Rachel is quite… annoying, about worrying that my
behavior will be improper when about a man. They all decided
that Nickel should sleep here and Julio and Davey should guard
the Theodores. I wish to… be beyond allthat, but I suppose my
misdeeds willalways haunt me, willtheynot?”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Our past sins have a
way of haunting us, aye. I thank the… I feel I amquite fortunate
that I am not surrounded by those who knew me before I
journeyed here.” Alonso had been the only one, and that had
ended intragedy. “It must be tryingfor you.”
She nodded.
“You look quite lovely, and I am very proud of you,” I
added.
She smiled. “Thank you. You were very wise in much of
what you said before. I amlearning… How did you put it? Who
the girlwas beneathallthe rum.”
“Good for you,”I said.
Jamaica let out a plaintive squawk and her mother
glanced to her witha smallsmile.
“She has woken enough to discover she does not know
the manholdingher,”Viviansaid withamusement.
“They will have time to become better acquainted,” I
said with surety. “We will sort this through, I promise. But first,
there are other worries.”
“Aye,” she said brusquely, “We must leave this damn

island.”I was surprised. “Aye, that is the conclusionwe reached.

What has occurred here?’
She shook her head. “I will let your sister tell you of it,
and Mister Theodore.”
“Allright, then,”I said.
Jamaica burst into a full-throated wail; and with a quick

peck on my cheek, Vivian went to rescue her. Gaston seemed

 

peck on my cheek, Vivian went to rescue her. Gaston seemed bothrelieved and reluctant to relinquishthe squallinggirl.

Vivian swept out ofthe roomwith the same aplomb with which she had entered, and Gaston and I were left alone again withTheodore and Agnes. Theodore closed the door this time.

“I suppose youwishto divorce her now,”Theodore said withsome amusement.
“Aye, is that possible?”I asked.
“She can cite sufficient cause to divorce you, but that would cause other complications. And it would require that she remainonEnglishsoil.”
“We were planningto tellyouthat we think we should all relocate to Tortuga. I take it that you have all had similar thoughts.”I said withconcern.
Agnes nodded gravely.
“Aye, we have been awaiting your arrival,” Theodore said. “But we willalldiscuss that ina moment, I believe.”
“Well, as we will be changing countries, and France and the Catholic church give not a whit about a Church of England marriage unless it involves royalty, can we not merely say that I am divorced, or the marriage was annulled, and allow Nickel and her to marryonTortuga?”
“Spoken like a good heretic,” Theodore said with a smile. “Nay, Young Nickelis a devout member of the Church of England, and believes inthe sanctityofthe marriage betweenyou and Mistress Williams, even if the two of you do not. He came to see me about this matter.”
“OhBloody…”I sighed.

“Agnes and I will need to be married at once in the

 

“Agnes and I will need to be married at once in the

Catholic Church,”Gastonsaid thoughtfully.
“Aye,” Theodore said with concern. “If you wish to…
ignore your father’s wishes.”
“I do not wish to, but I willnot be married to that bitch,”
Gastonsaid. “I chose Agnes, and I willstand bythat decision.” “So be it, then,” Theodore said with a shrug. “I hope the
two ofyouare prepared to dealwithpriests.”
We sighed inunison.
I imagined they would be the same priests I had
threatened over dinner at Doucette’s—and told I was an atheist.
We were doomed.
“Have either of you heard from my father concerning
matters ofmylegalcompetence?”Gastonasked.
“Aye,” Theodore said. “Your father wrote me that the
matter would best be addressed on French soil. Someone, either
a member of the Catholic Church, or a representative of the
French government, needs to observe and interview you, and
write a report concerning the matter to be delivered to the courts
inFrance.”
We sighed inunisonagain.
Theodore held up his hand. “Until the matter of your
competence has been resolved, however, I am in possession of
documents namingWillas your guardian.”
We sighed withrelief.
“Thank the Gods,”I said.
“And you will have to stop saying things of that nature
once we onTortuga,”Theodore chided.

BOOK: Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves
4.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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