The Pirate's Secret Baby Read online

  "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...

  How she wanted to, wanted to stop thinking and just feel, to experience again
the explosion of pleasure that came from being with a man. The right man. This man, she knew, would touch her just so, and stroke her to completion. Nanette had not been shy in praising Captain St. Armand's bed skills, and the women in Madame Cornelia's brothel sought out his company as well. His own self esteem would be tied to bringing pleasure to his partner, not just seeking his own satisfaction. He would demand it.

  "We can continue this in my bed, Lydia," he whispered in her ear, and that moment, when he used her given name, broke the spell. It was the height of intimacy, shaking her from the sensual fog enveloping her in a brief moment of madness. Her hands clenched on his chest, crushing fistfuls of fine fabric, reminding her of what she was now and where she was.

  "No," she whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again, not looking up at his sculpted face. "No, Captain St. Armand. I--I don't know what came over me. I must leave, now."

  She pushed at him but he didn't release her, holding her against him. He desired her, that much was obvious, and she feared he wouldn't listen to her, but after an endless minute he put his hand beneath her chin, forcing her head up so he could meet her eyes, his own heavy-lidded, promising sensual delights.

  "I will let you leave, little hedgehog, but this conversation is not finished. We will talk, either aboard this ship or when we dock. You will not leave until I am satisfied with your answers."

  "Are you threatening me?" she asked, her desire supplanted by outrage.

  "I do not need to threaten, Miss Burke. I am merely stating facts so you can come to your own decision."

  He released her and stepped back.

  "It is time to go to the cabin and read to Mattie. You go, I will join you there."

  Lydia did not want to give him the opportunity to change his mind about releasing her, and, after two fumbling attempts, wrenched his door open. She wouldn't look over her shoulder to see if he watched her, smiling that shark smile at her discomposure.

  * * * *

  Robert was not smiling. Kissing the governess was a mistake. She couldn't learn how touching her affected him. He'd started the game with the idea that she'd reveal some of her secrets and ideally reveal some of her delightful body to his gaze and touch, but when his mouth brushed across hers and those slim hands of hers moved up his chest it was all he could do to not pick her up and toss her on his bunk. Her hesitant touch inflamed him and he couldn't understand it. After his weeks at Madame Cornelia's he would have thought himself, if not wrung dry, then so sated he would not be tempted by a drab governess with shining hair and eyes flashing green fire. It wasn't as if he'd been at sea for months on end without ease, he'd just come from the finest brothel in the islands!

  And yet there was something about Miss Burke--Lydia--that rocked his composure and his control when they touched. He'd seen her talking with Conroy and he'd been tempted to walk over and push Conroy away from her, maybe overboard, which was stupid. Conroy was a valuable crewman and she was just a governess whose caps annoyed him and whose scent drove him insane. It wasn't fine perfume or creams, but the smell of soap and a faint scent of lemons and a note of womanly musk weaving itself around her, pulling him in and making him do rash things.

  Most of Robert's rash decisions over the years involved taking on foes too large to be easily defeated or prey too fast to chase, but those gambles largely paid off. When it came to women there was no question of rash decisions. On the contrary, his moves were well thought out, studied, plotted. A strategy bringing him hours of pleasure in beds from England to the United States and to the Caribbean. He didn't have to fight his way into the arms of lovely ladies, not when they were all too willing to fall into his, from duchesses to doxies.

  Now though just the thought of the governess's chestnut hair spread across his pillow gave him a cockstand that needed to disappear before he went to read bedtime stories. Robert splashed water on his face, retrieved his copy of Captain Johnson and took some deep breaths, getting himself in order to face the ladies.

  When he opened the door to the cabin there was a suspicious odor of cinnamon, and goat stew. He looked at the governess who said dryly, "I suspect elves--or pirates--brought this little malefactor supper when we weren't looking, Captain."

  "Mattie? Did the men sneak food in to you? Who did it?"

  Mattie crossed her arms over her skinny chest and said, "I will not peach on them, sir. I'm not a former."

  "I believe you mean to say you're not an informer, Mattie," Miss Burke said.

  "That is right. I am not an informer. You can keelhaul me, Captain. I won't tell!"

  "Hmmmm..." her papa said. He would never tell Miss Burke this, but he was glad the men were supporting Mattie and that she wouldn't squeak on them. He did not desire a lickspittle of a child trying to curry his favor by telling tales.

  "I will leave this go for now, miss. Shall we continue with our reading of the life of Anne Bonny?"

  "Oh yes, Captain Papa! Anne Bonny would never tattle on the crew, would she?" Mattie sat up on her knees, her nightshirt tangled in the bedclothes.

  "Under the covers with you, so you don't catch a chill, and then if Miss Burke will adjust the lantern we will read."

  Mattie hurriedly climbed beneath the quilt, folding her hands atop the covers and looking like a curly topped cherub, a cherub wanting stories of mayhem and murder.

  "Now, where were we--did we talk about Anne's special friend, Mary Read?"

  Mattie shook her head, her eyes wide. "The other girl pirate, Papa?"

  "Yes, and we'll read more of her later. But for now you need to know Mary and Anne were the best of friends. Anne was loyal, and as you say, would not peach on another pirate. More than that, when they were finally captured, she and Mary fought back to back against the seaman boarding their vessel. Anne was not the captain, but was the lover of 'Calico Jack' Rackam. We'll read more of Captain Rackam another night, but suffice it to say he came to a bad end, and it was largely of his own doing. Anne said of him on the day of his execution that, 'if he had fought like a man, he need not have been hanged like a dog.'"

  The governess stirred when he said Calico Jack and Anne Bonny were lovers, but she did not interrupt. Mattie's eyes were wide as she took this all in.

  "Pirates get hanged if they're caught, don't they? Maman said there was going to be a hanging in town, but we would not go."

  She sat straight up in bed and grabbed Robert's arm. "Papa, the navy's not going to hang you, is it?"

  "No one is going to hang your papa, Mattie. I am too smart and too wily to get caught by the navy. Haven't I stayed away from them all these years? That will not change now."

  "Anne Bonny was caught, you said so, and she was a smart pirate. Even smart pirates can get caught and hanged by the navy!"

  "Listen--no, don't fuss, just hear me out, Mathilde. I am sailing to England and will make sure no one hangs me. You have my promise on that. Did I not say in St. Martin that you will live with me? That means I take care of you, no matter what. No one will keep me from doing that, not the navy, not storms, not sea monsters."

  Mathilde giggled, her good mood restored. "There are no sea monsters, Papa. That's silly."

  "And who has been at sea most of his life, miss? When it comes to sea monsters I am the expert. I will protect you from Leviathan and mermaids and krakens and everything else in the ocean, real or just possibly real."

  "Will you protect Miss Burke too? Isn't she valuable to us?"

  He looked at the dowdy little governess. As cargo, she did not have a lot to offer, though he imagined some Algerian bey might pay for an English governess. He wondered again what her full value would be if he stripped off those ugly garments, loosened her hair, coaxed her to his bed. If he were serious about protecting her, he'd leave her alone. On the other hand, putting her under his protection in England, now that had a certain appeal. He suspected he would not tire of her as quickly as his previous paramours and he longed to see what she would look like dressed for a night at the theater, gracing his
arm. He answered the child without taking his eyes off the woman.

  "Yes, Mathilde, I will protect Miss Burke also. You have my promise on that."

  "Good," Mattie said. "Promises are important."

  The governess shifted uneasily under his scrutiny.

  "You have had a busy day, Mathilde, and if you want your father to read to you it is time for quiet. Questions can come later."

  "Yes, Miss Burke," the child yawned and snuggled deeper into her bunk, and judging by the eyes at half-mast he wouldn't be reading aloud for much longer. Sure enough, he'd moved on to the story of Captain Davis and saw the child's eyes were closed.

  "Goodnight, poppet." He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.

  "G'night, Papa. I love you," she murmured, and Robert felt that ache in his chest again. He cleared his throat.

  "And I love you, Mathilde."

  He arose and looked over at Miss Burke, watching Mathilde, a look of longing on her face as she gazed at the sleepy girl. Did she wish for children and a home of her own? Surely she did not want to spend the rest of her life caring for other people's brats.

  He did not want to leave her with a child, he was careful about that--most of the time--but after a liaison with him she'd be free to find herself some merchant or farmer to marry. That thought made him scowl and he was more abrupt than necessary when he said, "Our conversation earlier was interrupted, Miss Burke. I will have answers before the end of this voyage. As you heard, I promised Mattie I would take care of you, and it's important to keep a promise, isn't it?"

  "You are not responsible for me, so your promise has no meaning," the governess whispered angrily.

  "Shall we step outside to continue this discussion?"

  "This discussion is finished, Captain. Good night!"

  "No bedtime kiss?"

  She strode across the deck, no easy thing to do in these close quarters, and opened the door to usher him out.

  He paused in the doorway, looked over her shoulder at the little girl sound asleep, then back at her. "You can tell me all you like that our conversations are finished, but I am not your charge, so I do not have to follow your orders. I made a promise to keep you safe, and I always keep my promises."