The Pirate Takes A Bride (17 page)

She didn’t even like children. Maddie liked children. Maddie was always saying how dear that little boy was or how sweet that little girl. Ashley looked at the same child and saw snot running from his nose or something sticky and potentially gown-ruining on her fingers. Ashley stayed away from children.

She hadn’t even liked being a child. She’d hated how she was so much smaller than everyone else and how she had so many rules to follow. She still hated rules.

Another thought occurred to her, and she had to grasp the rail to keep upright. What if Nick expected her to act as the girl’s mother? What if she—Ashley Brittany—was to
make
the rules after all these years of breaking them? The wind in her ears swirled louder, and Ashley could not even hear herself think above the roar. She closed her eyes, blocking out the image of Nick and his daughter on the beach, and took a deep breath. She was not going to panic. She was not going to allow a small child to scare her. She clenched her hands and took another breath. The wind in her ears quieted slightly, and she heard chuckling.

Ashley opened her eyes to the sight of Mr. Chante laughing. He was laughing at her! This was the outside of enough. She might be mortified that Nick hadn’t told her about this child, but she wasn’t going to show it. If nothing else, she was good at hiding her pain and embarrassments. Ashley straightened and narrowed her eyes. “Is something amusing you, Mr. Chante?”

“Just waiting for you to swoon, Mrs. Cap’n.”

She blinked at him, giving him her best you-are-beneath-me look. “I do not swoon. The heat of the day overcame me. That is all.”

“The heat? That one thing to call it. Come on, Mrs. Cap’n. Cap’n said you could come on the next boat.”

She stepped back. Dam-drat! She had insisted on going ashore, hadn’t she? Now she wanted to stay on the ship for as long as possible. Perhaps she need not leave the ship at all. It felt quite a bit larger now than it had yesterday. “I…Already?” she began, her mind working furiously to form an excuse.

“Don’t tell me you afraid to go. You afraid of a little girl?”

“Afraid?” Do not let him bother you, she told herself.
Do not listen!
But she couldn’t help it. No one called her a coward. “I assure you it takes more than the likes of a little girl or even a man like you to scare me.” That was true. She’d faced down the worst gossips in the
ton
. This little girl was nothing compared to the old dowagers and their sharp, bloody claws. Yet even as Chante escorted her to the ladder above the rowboat being prepared to go ashore, she had the overwhelming urge to run back to Nick’s cabin and pretend none of this had happened.

Instead, she climbed down the rope ladder. It swayed and she had not realized quite how much ship there was between the water and the deck. Her arms and legs were shaking when the men on the rowboat caught her and helped her to find a seat. She didn’t even care that they’d been a little over familiar in the way they’d grasped her about the waist. She sat on the small boat, trying to keep her spine straight, and watched as the shore and Nick with his daughter became inextricably closer.

N
ick set the wriggling Rissa down and watched as she scampered off to play with a crab one of the other children had found. He waded into the surf and lifted Ashley off the boat. As soon as he touched her, she stiffened.

“I can explain,” he said.

“Oh, really?” She pushed him away and insisted on walking ashore herself, thought the water must have dragged her heavy skirts down. “You have a wife and a child. How do you explain that?”

“Rissa’s mother is dead.”

Her expression immediately softened, and the thin line of her mouth relaxed. “Nick, I’m sorry.”

“If you’ll just allow me to explain—”

“Cap’n?” Chante called. “Where you want these casks of water?”

He looked at Chante then back at Ashley, who surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll talk later. Right now, tell me how I can help.”

Hours later a makeshift camp had been established on the beach, campfires blazed, and the men of the
Robin Hood
dozed. A hunting party had taken down several birds, and the men had eaten well. Nick had given every man a ration of rum, and he felt pleasantly warm from the portion he’d drunk. He’d spoken with Red at some length, comforting his bos’n and, in turn, the other men who’d lost wives and lovers. Words were not enough, but they were all he had at the moment. Words and promises of vengeance.

Chante and a small group of sailors had returned to the ship, keeping watch from the topmasts should there be trouble. Tomorrow the ship would be careened and repairs begun. It would take several days to complete the repairs, and Nick had needed the rum in order to find the patience to wait. How he wanted to find Yussef now and wrap his hands about the pirate’s neck.

In his arms, Rissa stirred and snuggled closer to him. She was sleeping, her face so innocent and sweet in her slumber. He prayed she slept well and did not dream of the attack that had taken so many of her makeshift family. He looked about, wondering where he should put her for the night, and one of the village women came forward and nodded to her and then to a small tent where her two children slept. The girl and boy were Rissa’s playmates, and Nick smiled as he handed his daughter to the woman. Though he might have liked to keep her close, he was not yet ready to retire and he did not want her to wake alone if nightmares should trouble her.

As the warmth from Rissa’s small body faded, he glanced about the various campfires. He’d seen Ashley sitting at one with Mr. Fellowes earlier. She’d been sipping rum and making a face at her cup. Now he did not see her. Had she found a place to sleep or had he overlooked her? He stood, brushed his trousers off, and began to move toward the nearest fire. Before he took more than two or three steps, his neck prickled, and he turned. She stood in the tree line, her back straight, her long silvery hair a beacon even in the dark.

When he reached her, she moved toward the beach and the lapping waves. “Shall we walk a little ways?”

He nodded his agreement and for a time they followed the shoreline, the moon lighting their way and the sounds of the crew’s voices fading gradually. Finally, when they were far enough away so as not to be overheard, she stopped. “You never told me you were married or that you had a child.” Her hands went to her hips. “Those facts seem like more than minor points of interest.”

“You’re right,” he said, and her face showed surprise at his easy capitulation. “I did not think of it. My mind was otherwise occupied.”

“With contemplating how you might lure me into your bed? Even though you already had a wife waiting for you?”

“With punishing the bastard who did this to my island and my villagers. They looked to me for protection, and I failed them.” Now the extent of that failure was glaringly clear.

“I’m sorry your wife is dead,” she said, her voice somewhat softer. “I can see how much you love the little girl. You must have loved the mother.”

Nick sighed. He did not want to have this conversation now. He did not want to allow the pain to gain a foothold by acknowledging what he had lost. But Ashley deserved answers, and he could not make her wait for them. “Zorah was not my wife. I’ve never been married.” He glanced at her. “Before.”

Ashley blinked at him, the enormity of what he was saying becoming clear. “But the child—”

“Yes, she is mine.” He shook his head. “For a woman who claims to want nothing to do with Society’s rules, you tend to appear rather shocked when someone breaks them.”

She said nothing, and he could not read her expression. Whatever her thoughts, she kept them close. He would say this now, tell her all, and think of it no more afterward. Not until the pain had lessened. Not until Yussef was dead. “Zorah had been part of a sultan’s harem. I never knew his name. I only know she escaped him and feared for her life. Perhaps she killed him or she feared he might try and take her back. I met her in Morocco, and she begged me to take her far away. I agreed.”

“You saved her.”

“Difficult to imagine me as a hero, isn’t it?” He gave her a rueful smile. “Don’t worry. You needn’t begin to form a good opinion of me. She had money to pay for passage, so my act was not completely selfless. I took her here,” he said, gesturing to the branches of the palms blowing in the gentle breeze. “In time we became lovers. By the time Rissa was born, our passion had been spent. I never loved her nor do I think she loved me, but we did love our daughter. Zorah died three years ago of illness, so Yussef is not responsible for her demise. Censure me if you will, but I would change nothing, do nothing differently. I regret nothing that led to my daughter.”

“I can see you love the little girl. Do you intend to bring her to England? Am I to be her mother?”

He had not thought of Ashley as Rissa’s mother, but of course, Ashley was his wife. She would want to know if he expected her to accept his bastard child into her home—if they ever had a home. “I’ll take her to England. I’ll take all of them who wish to go because Isla de las Riquezas is no longer safe. After I kill Yussef.”

“How can you be so selfish?”

He gaped at her.
She
was calling him selfish? He had met few women so spoiled and selfish as she.

“What if you are killed? Then what happens to your daughter and all of these people?”

He didn’t like the question. “You might rejoice. You’ll be free of me.”

“Oh, it’s not you I care about,” she snapped. “I know your selfish plan already. You’ll leave me—all of these women and children—here until your great quest is complete, and if you fail, we’ll be trapped here forever. It’s your ship I care about, not you.”

She was bluffing. He knew she cared for him, and still her words were thorns in the soft parts of him, the parts he tried not to think of too often. She moved past him, probably intent on making a great show of stomping back to camp, but he caught her arm and pulled her against him. “One day, Ashley Martingale, you’ll regret your words. One day you’ll
beg
me to stay by your side.”

She tossed her hair. “Ha. Not likely.” She tugged her arm, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he pulled her closer, until their mouths were just inches apart. “One day you will do anything to keep me in your bed,” he whispered, dipping his mouth to kiss the angle of her jaw. She shivered. “You will beg me to make love to you.” He kissed her ear lobe then drew back. Her eyes were closed, her breathing rapid. She opened her eyes, and they were dark with desire.

“Never.” But even as she said the word, she moved closer, her lips brushing his. His body wanted release. He’d been denied the last time she’d aroused him. He could have her now. But he would not take her in anger. He would not take her in an effort to forget the horrors of the day. He still had some integrity, even if he was a pirate.

A
shley stood in the shade of the trees and watched as the men labored to empty the great ship of its cargo in order to careen it the following day. Rissa stood next to her, and Ashley was glad for the distraction of the ship so she did not have to think of something to say to the girl. Ashley had spent a restless night after Nick had kissed her on the beach. She’d slept in a tent, which was really a thin canvas supported by a stick stuck in the sand. She’d slept on a thin blanket on the hard sand. She’d never thought she would wish for the great cabin again, but Nick’s berth was infinitely more comfortable and less scratchy than sand.

The next morning—indeed, all the next day—Nick had ignored her. He’d ignored anything not to do with the
Robin Hood
or his daughter. Ashley hadn’t quite understood what careening a ship meant or the enormity of the task, but the men had spent all day removing everything heavy and valuable from the ship and ferrying it ashore. Another group of men had built a platform in the water. Nick had given orders, but he’d also spent quite a great deal of time watching the water. When she’d asked, Mr. Fellowes said the captain was examining the tides.

Wherever Nick was, his daughter was beside him. Ashley could not help but smile when she watched the two of them standing together. Nick with his broad stance, more suited for a rolling ship than the steady shore, and his daughter mimicking him perfectly. She had his dark hair and winsome smile but what Ashley assumed was her mother’s olive complexion and dark eyes. Like Nick, the girl was quick to grin and offer a witty jest. For only five, she was smart and seemed unafraid of the burly men moving about her.