The Pirate's Secret Baby (11 page)

"Miss Burke?"

Lydia scrubbed her face and turned to face her charge.

"Yes, Mattie?"

"Do you like my papa?"

Lydia's hand rose to her throat. "What do you mean, child?"

Mattie sat up on her bunk, her arms wrapped around her knees. Lydia didn't say anything about the unladylike position, because Mattie was looking at her intently. She may be young, but she was not as sheltered as many a girl her age.

"My papa is a handsome man and a successful pirate," Mattie said with pride. "Sometimes though, I think you don't like him. You argue with him a lot."

Lydia came over and sat beside the child. "Your father and I disagree on many things, Mattie, including his being a pirate. There is one thing we do agree on. We both want what is best for you. That's my mission as your governess, and your father's responsibility. If we sometimes argue about it, it is because we are both doing our best to do the right thing for you."

"I do not want to be a burden to Papa. I want to be a helpful crewmate."

"You are a helpful crewmate," Lydia said firmly. "You care for the animals and do your chores with a minimal amount of grumbling. Your improvement in your numbers will help you to be even more useful to your father. In addition, you have gotten others involved in learning and that is important."

"It is?"

"Yes. We must always strive to improve ourselves, and now some men who did not think they could learn have returned to the schoolroom. When Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Nash finish this voyage they will know more and be better prepared to serve aboard this vessel, or other vessels."

"Because of me?"

"You helped. You study with them and you make them feel that it is safe to try new things."

"So it is good to try new things?"

"Within reason," Lydia said sternly. "I do believe there will be more climbing in your future, as long as you have permission."

"I understand." Mattie nodded. "So if Mr. Conroy offers to teach me to spit farther, then I can learn as long as it doesn't interfere with my chores."

Lydia opened her mouth, then shut it. There were only so many things she could say "no" to in the course of a day. She changed dresses, retrieved her fichu and tucked it into the already modest neckline of her blue gown. For a few heartbeats she wished it were a brighter shade of blue, a sapphire blue like the captain's satin shirt, the one that flowed over his torso like liquid silk, the sheen catching the light and the eye.

But that would defeat the purpose of wearing drab colors to blend into the background. Sapphire satin was for pirates, not for governesses who did not wish to draw attention to themselves.

When she pinched her cheeks to put some color in them, she told herself it was just so the captain would not ask if she were pale. His personal questions had a tendency to take on new meanings and subtleties and she did not wish to spar with him. She told Mattie she'd see her later in the evening and walked over to the captain's cabin, the narrow passageway seeming a great distance though it was just steps away.

Her knock on the door was answered by a firm, "Enter," but when she stepped across the threshold she paused, arrested by the sight. The captain's cabin was dimly lit and empty but for its owner, clad in the same shirt that entered into her fevered thoughts. It was unfastened and he seemed not to be aware, or care, that his chest was on display, the bands of muscles rippling across tanned flesh.

"I will return when you are dressed, Captain, and when the others dining with us are here."

"I am as dressed as I need to be aboard my own ship, in my own cabin, and it will be just the two of us tonight, Miss Burke."

Without another word she turned to leave. Let him play his games with someone else.

"Stay."

She looked over her shoulder. "Are you ordering me to stay here alone with you? I can tell you in advance, this will not end well."

He looked puzzled. Clearly he was either unfamiliar with the thought of someone disobeying him, or with woman resisting his charms. Either way, she needed to be somewhere else, not alone with all that satin and flesh.

"Stay. Please." He sighed. "I will fasten my shirt and put on a coat if it makes you feel more at ease."

She couldn't uncover any innuendo or hidden meaning in his statement and reluctantly Lydia said, "If you will fasten your shirt I will stay, Captain St. Armand."

He did as promised, and Lydia seated herself. The food was already on the table, a sea pie featuring dubious meats, but enough onions and seasonings to make it tolerable, pickled beetroot, peas, and a treacle pudding at the end.

The captain served her before serving himself. He also poured her some of his excellent burgundy, no doubt purloined from another vessel. She took a sip, cautious because the wine was an improvement over the ship's drinking water at this point in the voyage, and she didn't want to quench her thirst with a beverage that could lead to bad decisions.

"Why are we dining alone tonight, Captain?"

"Is that a complaint?" he asked, putting some peas on her plate.

"Just a question."

"Mr. Fuller is busy and I thought this a good opportunity to get to know you better."

"Why?" she asked bluntly.

He paused and set down the dish, reaching for his wineglass in the silence. Above them she heard the sounds of a ship at sea, a vessel that was never completely quiet as wind moved it ever closer to its home.

A shiver raced down her back.

"Cold, Miss Burke?"

He didn't wait for her reply but fetched his jacket and, standing behind her, draped it over her shoulders, smoothing it down her arms. His scent enveloped her, the light air of sandalwood and citrus wrapping itself around her senses. He lingered at her back, then returned to his seat.

"Did you give Sails your clothing as I said?"

"Yes, Captain. He will have a jacket for me by the end of the week. I told him brown or black would be suitable if he has those materials."

"We will see," St. Armand said. "I trust Sails to make a wise choice for your jacket, and you should trust him as well. He is a busy crewman and you do not wish to burden him with additional requests, do you, Miss Burke?"

"Really, it is foolish--"

"Let me decide what obligations the men can assume. It is, after all, my responsibility, not yours. Now, tell me about Mattie's lessons. She seems to have an aptitude for numbers. Can you teach her geometry?"

The question startled Lydia because she'd thought when he invited her here tonight, with just the two of them and the low lantern light and the wine--she had not expected to discuss geometry.

"Yes, I can teach her the fundamentals of geometry. Why is that important?"

"Navigation skills, Miss Burke. Geometry is basic to learning how to navigate the oceans. I do not know where Mattie's future lies, but if she marries a seaman and wants to accompany him it will be a useful skill for her."

Lydia was struck speechless. Captain St. Armand so often seemed to present himself as a wastrel and a rogue that when he said something making sense it startled her. It was out of character, much as if he started reciting sermons.

"Do you know women who have been navigators, Captain?"

"I knew one, the daughter of a Boston whaler. She married a sea captain, accompanied him on his voyages to the Pacific Ocean and helped crew his ship. I always thought it handy for Captain Jerome. If a woman goes to sea with her husband she often is called upon to physic the men when they're ill, keep the log, and in Mrs. Jerome's situation, navigate."

"You intrigue me, sir. I do not expect such a practical attitude from--" she paused.

"You want to say, 'from a pirate.' Think of me rather as a merchant, nothing more, though I'm sometimes called upon to fight. Since I don't have a navy at my back I have to be prepared to defend myself."

"I imagine that there are other ships' captains who would disagree with that."

"Not publicly. Not if they value their good health. More wine?"

She shook her head, but what he'd said did raise an issue she hoped to discuss with him. "Now that you have the care of Mattie will it affect your plans when you arrive in England?"

He steepled his fingers and looked at her. His face was lightly shadowed by new growth on his jawline, the stubble making him look even more disreputable, but she also wondered how it would feel if she touched him there. Would it be rough against her skin, or would it add to the sensation if he were kissing her on her neck, his mouth moving down her throat--

Dear heavens, she was going to have to rein in these thoughts. Robert St. Armand was pretty to gaze upon, but he should have a sign around his neck that said, "Danger, sharks!" For that is what he reminded her of, a toothy predator swimming about, looking for vulnerability in its prey. She recalled an islander telling her that if one encountered a shark you could try and escape by rapping it on the snout. She did not want to explore that theory with Captain St. Armand.

"That is a question I have asked myself, and one of the things I wish to discuss with you. It is obvious to me there is something in England worrying you and you want to flee the country as soon as we land. Whatever it is you are fleeing from, I can help you, but you must tell me what it is. Did you murder someone?"

Lydia looked at him, then shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. "Only you would ask me so blithely if I murdered someone and offer to assist me. Are you not afraid if I murdered once I will do it again?"

His lips curled up in a lazy grin. "No, not now that I've begun to know you better, Miss Burke. There are some people who will kill others with little or no provocation, or just for the fun of it. Most people are not like that. You certainly are not. You might be capable of killing in self-defense, or in defense of someone else, but you do not strike me as the cold-blooded type."

"What about you, Captain? Would you describe yourself as a cold-blooded killer?"

His smile did not change, not by a fraction. "Do you care? After all, you have already established to your satisfaction that I am a pirate. What does it matter how I choose to dispose of my victims? If you need help returning to England I can be of more assistance to you than men without my particular skills."

"I do care, Captain, because you now have the keeping of an impressionable youngster. Children need to learn moral values from those they look up to. Just as Mattie climbed the mast today to show you she could do it, she might one day attempt other feats to win your approval."

"Mattie is not going to grow up to be a pirate, Miss Burke."

"I am guessing your mother never expected you to grow up to be a pirate."

He lost his smile. "We will not discuss my mother. My family is not your concern."

"It is my experience, Captain St. Armand, that how our families treat us has a great deal to do with how we treat our children, for good or for bad."

He leaned forward, resting his arm on the table. "In that case, Miss Burke, tell me more about yourself. How is it
your
parents didn't provide for you and you have to earn your way in the world? Why are you not protected from whatever is threatening you in England?"

Lydia stiffened. "My situation does not affect how Mattie will learn or be raised by
you
, sir. It is irrelevant."

"I disagree. Here, now, you are Mattie's governess. I have seen the quality of the care you offer her and I want to continue to have you work with her when we arrive in England, but you have made it clear that you do not intend to stay and I demand to know why."

Lydia gripped the arms of her chair. "You can demand all the answers you want, but I am not obligated to answer to you and you cannot make me tell you what you want to know. You kidnapped me. I did not hire on with you voluntarily. I owe you nothing, but I choose to take care of Mattie. That ends when we arrive in England as I do not intend to stay employed by you."

He smiled at her again and a primitive part of her brain screamed, "Shark!" but she did not think leaping across the table and hitting him in the nose was the right response. Not yet.

"Miss Burke, you are so naïve. I cannot
make
you answer me? I could do things to you that would have you babbling everything you know."

"If you torture me, how will you explain it to Mattie?"

He walked over to her, pulling her up from her chair, gently, not forcing her, and yet she rose to his touch as his coat slid off of her shoulders to pool on the deck.

"Torture? What an imagination you have. Who said anything about torture?" he murmured. His hands slid up to cradle her face, his eyes on hers, and his breath whispered across her mouth. She licked her upper lip, tasting burgundy and spice. His gaze honed in on that movement before his own lips were on hers, lightly, warmly, teasing out the moisture her tongue left behind.

She knew she should move, swim to safety, do something to escape, but her legs wouldn't follow her brain's commands, and then her brain shut down all together as his mouth teased its way across hers, lightly touching on the corners before moving up her jawline to her ear. At her shiver of response his luscious lips moved back to hers, lightly kissing, coaxing, not attacking at all.

He ambushed her common sense as he brought other sensations to bear, sensations missing from her life for far too long. She moved closer to him, her hands resting on his shirt, on his shoulders, and he went still.

Did he think
her
a shark, moving through troubled waters to devour him? She almost smiled at the thought, but was distracted by his muscled chest covered in fabric as smooth as his smile, the feel of hard flesh beneath satin sending a shiver down her spine even as his firm lips coaxed her mouth open to delve deeper at her gasp of desire. Caressing the pirate awoke feelings long dormant, feelings having nothing to do with prudence but only with sensation, the touch of passion, of decisions enjoyed in the moment, but regretted later.

Not always regretted
, a secret part of her mind whispered to her.
Seize the moment and the pleasure
...