The Pirate's Secret Baby Read online

  "Prove me right? How?"

  "Prove I am an unfit parent. Prove I should not have the responsibility of raising Mathilde."

  He walked over to the glass she'd poured for him and drank, head tipped back, the solid column of his throat working as he sought relief in the rum. The captain's shirt had been hastily pulled over his head when he came above to check on the commotion. It was unfastened in the front and Lydia looked down at her hands, frowning.

  "I cannot do this. I cannot be Mathilde's father. You will care for her. I will give you money, plenty of money, enough money to ensure you never want for anything. Just...just take care of Mattie."

  "You are ridiculous."

  He blinked, then looked at her as if she were some exotic species he'd never before encountered, and set his glass down.

  "What did you say to me?"

  "You heard me. You are ridiculous. Do you believe you are the first father, the first parent to feel unfit to raise a child? You are doing an adequate job with your daughter, do not make this into a Drury Lane drama."

  Now his eyes narrowed until there was only a flash of blue and the firm mouth tightened. He leaned forward, hands braced on the table.

  "You saw what happened today," he said through his teeth. "She could have fallen to the deck and died!"

  "But she did not, did she? She needs to be taught, not deserted."

  He looked at her for a long, drawn out period, as if this was the first time he was truly seeing her as a person. Good. He needed to learn she was a human being, a woman, not some kitten he could tease and annoy for his own entertainment. If he took her more seriously, he might leave her be.

  She doubted it, but it was an encouraging thought.

  "I would think I am the last person on this planet you want responsible for Mattie."

  "I've seen worse. But how I feel is not the issue, is it, Captain? Mathilde is your daughter, you have accepted that, she has accepted her place in your life. The last thing she needs now, after her mother's death and the upheaval of not knowing where she would end up, the last thing she needs is to wonder if her father will discard her like yesterday's rubbish because she's become an inconvenience or a bother to him."

  "That is not what I meant!"

  "Perhaps not, but she will view it that way, I assure you. Children want, no, must know their place in the world. If she feels unsure of her place with you, she will not thrive."

  He continued to look at her, assessing her words. She tried not to squirm under his gaze. It was easy, too easy, to dismiss him as an attractive rogue, but becoming curious about the layers of the attractive pirate would end badly for her, she knew that in her soul.

  "She must be punished for disobeying my orders."

  "Yes. What will you do?"

  Those long lashes hid his gaze as he looked down at his hands, splayed before him on the tabletop.

  "She doesn't flinch when I am around her."

  "Why would she--"Lydia stopped. Some children flinched because they expected to be struck. "Will you beat her?"

  "She is so small."

  "Some would not hesitate to strike a child for such an offense, considering it appropriate chastisement."

  "I would not strike a child." His looked up at her, his face drawn, the weight of his new responsibility bearing down on him. "A child should not look up and find a fist coming at hi--her." He looked over at his glass, but didn't drink more.

  "I don't want her to hate me. I abandoned her, and her mother."

  "That's not what Nanette said. You did not abandon her, and you did not know about Mattie. Nanette always spoke well of you, and you became a hero in Mattie's eyes, her brave pirate papa."

  He flinched, but she continued.

  "Do not prove her wrong by acting a coward now. Mattie will not hate you, even if you punish her. Children love their fathers and they know their fathers love them."

  "Not all children. Not all fathers."

  She could not argue that point and fell silent as he considered her words.

  "I must treat Mattie just as I would any other youngster aboard ship who disobeys. I do not strike children, so I will think of an alternative."

  He looked up at her a glimmer of a smile playing around his lips. "My girl is a brave one, isn't she? Not many would attempt climbing the rigging as she did, not at her age."

  Lydia felt her own proud smile creeping out. "Mattie is a challenge, but that is what makes teaching her a delight. I am not a teacher who wants a pattern card of a little person, sitting quietly and never questioning or striving to do new things."

  They sat looking at one another, each comfortable in his or her regard for the child, but then the mood flowed into something else, an acknowledgement that they were sitting together, alone, in his cabin, and they were not squabbling. Lydia wasn't wary and on guard with the captain as she normally would be.

  She jumped to her feet and he straightened too, his eyes never leaving hers. The look in them was one she had not seen before, not from him, a look of regard and respect and something else she did not wish to contemplate, not now, not when they were on a ship in the middle of the ocean. In his cabin, a few steps from his bed.

  "I will leave Mattie's punishment to you then, Captain. I am sure you will think of something appropriate."

  He nodded, and as she turned to leave she heard him say, "Thank you, Miss Burke."

  "For what?"

  "Thank you for Mattie."

  He said nothing more, and she just looked at him, then nodded and left to go check on the child. Mattie had cried herself to sleep in the cabin, a rag doll clutched to her tear-streaked face. Lydia smoothed the hair off of the child's forehead, and tucked her cover closer about her. So fragile, and so small, the bones in her body easily shattered, the dreams in her child's mind so easily crushed.

  * * * *

  Robert told Mr. Fuller to muster the crew and sent word below to the ladies. They arrived on deck, Mattie's face freshly washed and serious. She held her teacher's hand until they reached the solemn men arrayed in a row, as disciplined and straight as any crew in the navy. Robert stood at the end, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back. He looked down at the child and said, "Mathilde St. Armand. You will walk down this line and apologize to each of your mates for your disobedient acts. Then you will return to your bunk and spend the evening without supper."

  "Aye, Cap'n," the child whispered.

  She released Miss Burke's hand, and when she looked up at her, the governess nodded and took her place a step back from the crew.

  Mattie's bare feet shuffled across the deck.

  "I am sorry that I disobeyed orders, Mr. Nash. I am sorry I disobeyed orders, Mr. Conroy..."

  Each pirate gave the child a nod after her apology and she moved down the line. Sails winked at her, but a frown from the mate had him toeing the line again. Finally, she reached the end of the long row of solemn men.

  "I am sorry that I disobeyed orders, Mr. Fuller."

  Then she stood in front of the ship's commander.

  "I am sorry that I disobeyed orders, Captain. I will not climb again without permission."

  She gulped in a noisy breath and looked up at him. "Do you still love me, Papa?" she asked quietly.

  He crouched down on his heels so he could look her in the eye. "I will love you always and forever, Mathilde. That is a promise."

  She threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shirt and he clutched her to him. There were suspicious sniffling noises from some of the pirates, and Norton apparently had something in his eye, but Mr. Fuller said, "All right, back to work, you lot!" and they dispersed to their tasks.

  It was good they left, for Robert needed to get past the lump in his own throat. The fragile arms clasped around his neck held him as if he were a safe harbor from life's dangers. He hugged her to him and looked over her head. The governess stood quietly to the side, watching, her gray dress helping her blend into the weathered wood, the washed out sails of the ship. Quie
t and obedient. If he did not know she kept a burning coal of passion hidden behind her demure gown he'd worry she was not the right teacher to have Mathilde under her care.

  "Papa, will you read to me tonight?"

  He kissed her atop her head. "Yes, Mathilde, I will read to you tonight. Now, go to your cabin."

  The child walked off with her head raised higher, and Nash said, "We'll see you later then, lass," and a smile broke out on her face.

  "Did I do the correct thing?" Robert asked the woman standing beside him. She looked...right, standing there, as if being at his side was where she belonged. He frowned, because his plans for the future did not include drab governesses, not for more than an evening or two in his bed. And even that seemed unlikely, not just because she'd screech like an owl if he suggested such a thing--though he was convinced it would do her even more good than loosening her tight hair--but because bedding proper ladies had consequences. You could not walk away from them without some kind of reaction completely out of proportion to a night or two of pleasure. They wanted commitment and false words and, heaven help us all, marriage.

  "It appears you handled that well, Captain," Miss Burke answered his question. "Mattie needed to be disciplined, but she also needs to know she will be accepted by the crew. I believe based on their response and hers you did exactly the right thing."

  She was Mattie's governess, and asking her opinion was prudent. It was not because he wanted her approval, but her words still lightened something in his chest.

  "In that case I will excuse myself until this evening."

  "I will stay with Mattie in the cabin, Captain--"

  "No," he interrupted, an idea forming in his mind. "You will join me for our meal, as usual. Mattie does not need additional attention while she's confined to her quarters. This will give her more time to reflect."

  "But--"

  "Do not argue with my orders, Miss Burke. If I am responsible for ship's discipline then you must do your part by not undermining my efforts."

  He favored her with a smile, his careful "I'm a figure of authority" smile, and she nodded at him, mulling over his order. It was reassuring to know he could still command small children and governesses without worrying too much about mutiny. On that cheering thought he went below to prepare for the evening.

  Chapter 8

  Mattie was bored and restless when Lydia joined her later in the day, but was enduring her punishment with a martyred expression, and made a point of saying that she must bear up under her punishment as any of the men would. Lydia knew Mattie was secretly thrilled with herself. She'd climbed the mast--twice--in front of her shipmates and shown them she could do it. She'd been chastised for her transgressions just like the rest of the crew, though Lydia suspected their punishments took a harsher form than being sent to their hammocks without supper. Being sent to the hammocks without the evening grog might be considered severe by some aboard though.

  Thinking of appropriate punishments for malefactors made her think again about her missing hairpins and caps. She just knew the captain was responsible, he'd all but admitted it. What would be an appropriate punishment for him? It was a childish act, performed by one who seemed to have all the self-control of a child when it came to satisfying his own urges, so perhaps a good spanking was in order!

  Oh dear, she thought as she looked into her chest of clothing. An image of Captain St. Armand across her lap, sprawling there with his trousers down around his ankles, or worse, completely naked--there was no way she would be able to unthink that now. It was too...delicious. He would need a firm hand, of course, and stern warnings not to wiggle--

  Lydia dropped the fichu in her hand and walked to the washbasin where she splashed some tepid water on her face and tried to bring her unruly imagination under control.

  Control. That was it. If she could continue to maintain control, or at least the illusion of it, she would survive her encounters with the captain. If he thought he had the upper hand he would do more to force his will on her, bend her to his way of thinking, entice her into a world of sensuous pleasures that had no place in her life now. Not if she wanted to maintain her freedom and the life she'd built as Lydia Burke, governess, rather than--

  "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 shou
lder. "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."