Raised By Wolves 3 - Treasure (66 page)

I crossed the atrium and climbed the stairs and knocked on Agnes’

door. It took several minutes before she responded groggily. I announced myself, and she told me to enter.

With a chuckle, I stepped into her room and found her curled in the bed clothes regarding me with sleepy eyes.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

“I must leave the house and I need…” I sighed. “I need someone to watch over Gaston. He is still sleeping. We drank last night. Everyone drank last night.”

“Is he ill?” she asked and sat up with a concerned frown.

“Nay, not… he is just deeply asleep, such that…” I stepped to the door and peered out. Alonso was still sitting where he had been, sipping wine. “He cannot guard himself in his current condition.”

“But…” she said.

“The men we would have guard him are unconscious with drink…

save Alonso,” I sighed.

She frowned cutely, and then understanding slowly dawned upon her. “I cannot protect him.”

“I feel your presence in the stable should be more than sufficient,”

I said. “And you can wake him if something untoward does occur.”

Though, I questioned my belief in that.

She nodded and climbed from her bed. “I suppose I should dress.”

“Sam has food,” I said.

Her stomach grumbled and I chuckled. “I will fetch you a plate,” I said. “Come down as you can.”

“Might I sketch him?” she asked as I walked out the door.

“As much as you wish. In his current state, you might be able to pose him somewhat.”

“Is he naked?” she asked hopefully.

He was not, but I grinned. “I will see to it.” Then I paused and turned back to her. “But do not think other activities…”

She shook her head emphatically, with a chiding frown that I should even think such a thing.

Alonso regarded me curiously as I crossed the atrium. I considered making some excuse for Agnes’ imminent arrival, but decided against it.

Perhaps it would be better he knew I did not trust him. Or, he might not realize Gaston was asleep when I summoned a young lady to our room; and that should leave his morning filled with mystery.

The idea made me chuckle as I pulled off Gaston’s tunic and breeches. Even this did not rouse him. If his breathing had not been so very steady, and likewise the beating of his heart, I might have been alarmed.

Agnes arrived, wearing a gown, but every bit as disheveled as she had appeared when exiting her bed. “Is that man out there this Alonso?”

she asked.

“Aye,” I said.

“He is handsome enough, I suppose.” She frowned. “What will he think?”

“I do not know, and do not care. If he comes over here, glare at him until he leaves.”

She reached in the side of her skirt and pulled her pistol out.

I chuckled anew. “Gods, I hope it will not come to that.”

Agnes snorted as she sank down to sit with Bella and the pups.

I went to the cookhouse and fetched another bowl and plate for Agnes, and a large bone from the meat box for Bella. My appearance at the stable with these items was greeted with delight. I left them.

Alonso was standing now, somewhat in my path as I crossed to the front door. He regarded me with bemusement and crossed arms.

“Where are you off to?” he asked in Castilian.

“To visit my wife and tell the Theodores of our plans,” I said with a shrug.

“To visit your wife, eh? And you leave your man with so small a consolation…”

I snorted. “That small consolation has a pistol, and she does not favor men. I have told her you are nothing but trouble, and should be shot if she feels the need.”

Now he was truly perplexed. I laughed as I continued to the door.

He rushed to catch up with me. “Will! You truly do not trust me?” He was angry now.

I met his gaze without challenge and stated fact. “I do not.”

“What have I done? To you?” he demanded.

“Expressed thoughtless stubbornness about a thing of great import, namely my feelings for that man.”

He shook his head with evident frustration and stepped in close to meet my gaze with great earnestness. “I swear, on my mother’s honor, on the Lord’s cross, I will never do anything to harm your man. Nothing.

Nor will I allow another to harm him. I will be his staunchest protector.”

I actually believed him. “Why?”

He sighed. “Because I know you, and cleaving only to one lover is not in your nature.”

“Then why would you want me back?” I asked, truly incredulous.

He shrugged, but his words were impassioned. “Because it is not in my nature, either. Because I enjoyed what we had before. We shared women and men. I loved hearing of your conquests, and having someone to tell of mine.”

“Gods, Alonso! I cannot go back to that life. I would not, even if I could. Even if he were gone, I now know another manner of living, and I do not want that life anymore.”

He threw up his hands. “There is no reasoning with you!”

“No, there is not. So stop. Go away. It is done between us. Find someone else. Return to Florence or some other city in Christendom where there are hundreds of libertines who lived as we did.”

He shook his head. “No, I want you.”

I considered shooting him, or drawing my blade: my hand was tight upon the hilt and had been throughout our conversation. But, in that moment, I realized I could not kill someone for loving me, no matter how misguided the love. It seemed wrong.

“If you wish to spend the rest of your days in unrequited love for me, then so be it,” I sighed. “That is your choice. Either you will turn yourself from it in time, or you will not. I cannot help you.”

“We shall see,” he said, with the jaunty grin I had once adored.

I shook my head sadly and left him. As I walked into the street, I realized that I would still have to kill him if his love – once he realized it would truly always be unrequited – turned to hate, as love always seemed to do under that circumstance. Oddly, as long as he yet loved me, he was not a threat, merely an annoyance.

Hannah greeted me with a warm smile and led me in silence past Theodore’s closed office doors: apparently he was with a client. The ladies and babies were in the back room, as usual. Jamaica was napping in a small crib upon the floor, and I squatted to examine her.

I was acutely aware of the fact that she did not resemble Sarah’s son.

I made no mention of that to Vivian, though, as she was gazing at her daughter with pride.

“Where’s Gaston?” Vivian asked. “Or should I refer to him as Lord Montren?”

“Call him Gaston,” I said. “We had a busy night. Hush!” I chided Rachel before she could voice whatever was behind her smirk. “My nephew was born and the Virgin Queen arrived.”

“Oh! A boy! How wonderful!” Rachel exclaimed. “How is he? How is Mistress Striker? What have they named him?”

I grinned. “He is fine. Sarah is fine. I do not know what they intend to name him; no mention was made of it.”

“I would imagine Captain Striker was quite pleased,” Vivian said with a glum smile.

“Aye,” I sighed. “He was delighted to have a son.” I shrugged in an attempt to let her know she should not fret over it. “The Marquis’ ship also arrived, so he will be sailing soon. I assume we will also.”

Vivian frowned at that. “How long will you be gone?”

“Probably six months or so,” I said.

She sighed.

“I have… um… made arrangements,” I said and looked to Rachel.

“For the well being of all we value here. The details will need to be decided upon; but five good men from the Queen have chosen to stay here in Port Royal and watch over everyone while we are gone.”

“Who?” Rachel asked. “Do I know them?”

I listed the names, as she did indeed know Liam, Davey, and Julio.

She nodded thoughtfully. “Do you truly feel it to be necessary? Will they walk around the houses with arms?”

“I do not know. I would prefer that Vivian not go anywhere in town without escort.” I looked to her as I realized how she might have interpreted that.

She shook her head with pinched lips. “I will not be going to the market or…”

“There has been no mention of a price on your head,” I said carefully. “But I feel that is largely because my father thought I would put you out.”

She nodded. “I understand. I will not go to the market because…

people will stare, and I do not wish to see them.”

“All right. I… do not wish for you to think it is for any reason other than your safety,” I whispered.

She smiled. “Thank you for saying so.”

I turned back to Rachel. “Beyond Vivian’s safety, our largest concern is that Sarah will be abducted once Striker and Pete have gone. The men will be living in her house; however, if any feel there is a need for someone to watch this house as well…”

“Of course,” Rachel said. “We have another spare room.”

“I also think it would be best if you all learned to at least shoot pistols.” I looked back to Vivian. “You especially. I want you armed at all times. Agnes and Sarah carry pistols about in their skirts. They can show you how they suspend and conceal them.”

“Will you teach me?” she asked.

“If we have time; if not…”

She shook her head with a stubborn look I was beginning to know well.“Vivian,” I chided. “They are good men. I will introduce you before we sail. None will judge you harshly.”

I bit my tongue a little on that: Liam judged all women who might come, or had come, between matelots, harshly. Julio would probably be the best to handle her, but I worried that she might be inclined to bigotry due to his being a maroon. I sighed.

“And you must understand that they are not servants,” I added. “No matter how coarse some of them might appear or speak, and no matter the color of their skin, or their nation of origin, I consider them my peers, which means they are your equals as well.”

She frowned at that, but nodded, and then regarded me with guilt.

“I am not so… high and mighty as I once was. And, aye, I know I am no longer a Lady.” This last was a trifle bitter.

I snorted. “You will ever be a Lady, as you will ever be a lord’s daughter, for whatever dubious worth such a thing possesses.”

She awarded me a grudging smile. “True.”

There was frantic knocking on the back door. Hannah let Samuel into the house. He looked as if he had run the distance here.

“Master Will!” he exclaimed with relief upon seeing me. “They said to get you. None of them knew where Master Theodore’s was. The women be fighting.”

I followed him without question, or even bothering to excuse myself, and we ran home. I saw no women fighting as I slid to a halt in the atrium, but I did see a number of worried men.

“What happened?” I asked.

Alonso chuckled. “The blonde one,” he pointed upstairs, “came down and went to the stable after you left. There was quiet for a time, and then they were at each other like cats. The brunette is in the wash room with the maid. The blonde apparently has a good right.”

I swore and ran to the stable. Gaston regarded me groggily from the hammock with a pistol in his hand.

“I heard yelling,” he said.

“Apparently Christine and Agnes,” I muttered and looked about.

Agnes’ sketch pad was sitting on the medicine chest, open to a very nice nude portrait of my matelot. The medicine chest and the trunks with our clothing were open. I frowned at that, but picked up the picture and showed it to him. “I left Agnes here to watch over you, as you were sleeping like one dead. Christine apparently came down after I left.”

He looked at the sketch, and then at his nakedness, and frowned.

“Christine walked in…”

“I suppose she did. I will discover what occurred. She struck Agnes.”

Gaston swore quietly in French and struggled to sit up.

“Non,” I said and pushed him back. I handed him the water bottle, and closed Agnes’ sketch book and set it aside. “Stay here, drink, eat.” I indicated the cold food. “And leave the matter to me.”

He nodded with guilty eyes, and I kissed him lightly. He pulled my mouth to his for a true kiss, and I accepted it, even though his breath was horrible.

I grinned as he released me. “Drink the water, you taste of soured rum.”

He grinned ruefully. “I feel as if I drank a keg.”

“You did not, but…” I bit my lip and sighed. “It is the turmoil of the last days, my love; you have been fighting your Horse very hard, and you become very tired when you do so. I have seen it before. Rest.”

“I know,” he sighed. Then he was frowning and trying to rise again.

“Have you spoken to my father?”

“Non, but with what has occurred, I am sure I will shortly. Do not trouble yourself. Lie down. Rest.” I pushed him back onto the hammock, and this time he acted as if he would stay.

I left him. There were still no women visible in the atrium, but five people pointed me toward the bathing room, and another five toward the top of the stairs. The bathing room was closer.

I knocked on the door and Henrietta opened it. “Oh, Lord… Sir…”

she sputtered.

I waved her off and stepped in to find Agnes regarding me with wide teary eyes above a split lip. “What happened?” I asked kindly.

“I said something stupid,” she sobbed.

I smiled, even though my gut was curdling as I imagined all the stupid things she could have said. “Well, that happens, my dear. Start at the beginning.”

“Christine walked in while I was sketching Gaston,” she said. “She did not knock, and it is not as if there is a door, but she just walked in and I had no warning. She just stared at him for a long time with her face all screwed up in a grimace. And then she realized I was there, and she stared at me for a moment, and then at my drawing, and then she demanded to know what I was doing, as if she were blind. I told her I was watching over him while you went to the Theodores’. She became enraged. She began to look about for a blanket, claiming she wanted to cover his nakedness. He was lying on one, but she did not try to take it up. I told her it was no bother. I had seen him that way many times before.” She shook her head ruefully. “She was not pleased with that at all. She said she could not believe he would show himself to anyone or want me drawing him when he was so scarred. And I tried to tell her that he liked it, because I showed him how handsome he was. And she slapped me. She called me a deluded little girl who liked ugly things and had no sense of beauty.” She sobbed anew. “And so… and so… I told her he was not ugly, and you found him beautiful and I found him beautiful, and if she could not see he was beautiful then she was a mean-spirited bitch. And then she tried to hit me again, and I hit her.