The Marooner (Pirates of the Coast Book 3) Page 10

  “You poor dear.” Madalene stood and flicked her fingers. “Come with me, and I will show you to your room. Shall I ring for a hot bath?”

  “A hot bath?” Sophia whimpered. “What is that?”

  To wit Madalene chuckled. “I cannot imagine what you endured, given I have made the journey only twice, as my husband no longer sails, and we traveled in fair weather.” In the doorway, Madalene paused. “Leland, I will have your things moved to a larger room, as your usual chamber is too small to comfortably accommodate two people.”

  “Thank you.” As soon as the women departed, Leland smacked his thighs. “Jean Marc, while I appreciate the position you have given me in your enterprise, I will not have your wife dictating my calendar.”

  “Leland, Maddie is due to have our second babe, any day, and whatever she wants, she gets.” Jean Marc scratched his chin. “Humor her, else she may weep, and I will run amok, and that is not good for anyone, because no one makes Maddie cry.”

  “You would do well to heed his warning.” Cager rolled his eyes. “I once made that mistake, and he threatened to kill me. And now that you are married, you will learn, at some point, that wives rule the households and, I expect, even ships.”

  “All right, but I take issue with your conclusion, because Sophia does as I tell her.” Yes, that was a lie. Resolved to endure the inconvenience, Leland rested elbows to knees. “I ran into Reaper Reyson in Port Royal. He tells me you offered him a stake in the company.”

  “The same one I extended you.” A maid delivered a tray heaped with a plate of shortbread, a teapot, and cups, and Jean Marc wrinkled his nose. “Betsy, bring me the decanter of brandy and three glasses.”

  “Yes, Mr. Cavalier.” She curtseyed and scurried into the hall.

  “You look like you are in dire need of a drink, mon ami, and I believe I understand why.” Jean Marc peered at Cager, who gazed at Leland. “So, how did you win Sophia?”

  “Barry helped me, not that it is any of your business.” Leland crossed and then uncrossed his arms, because he did not want to have that discussion. “Did Reyson sign the pact with England?”

  “We expect he will.” Cager smiled. “How did you meet your lady?”

  “We were introduced at a country dance, in Derbyshire.” The maid returned with the brandy, and Leland lifted the crystal stopper and poured three healthy portions. “When does Reyson join our venture?”

  “In January.” Jean Marc cast a strange expression Leland could not interpret. “Are your vows secured?”

  “January?” Leland ignored the query, which he found inappropriate, given Sophia’s status as his wife. “What is the urgency?”

  “We negotiated contracts with several traders on the Continent, thus we are expanding to new territories.” Cager reclined on the sofa. “Have you sailed your fetching bride’s honey harbor? Have you defiled her, as you proudly proclaimed you intended?”

  Leland would have beaten greater men into submission, for the slight against his lady’s character, but Cager prided himself on giving offense.

  “I should check on Sophia.” Leland emptied his glass and set it on a table. “She was not feeling well, this morning.”

  “What did I tell you?” Cager snickered. “You owe me, Jean Marc.”

  “I knew he would fall, but I did not anticipate it so fast.” Jean Marc smirked. “But you are right, as he is in a bad way.”

  “Do not talk about me as if I am not here.” Riled and impatient, Leland stood. “And yes, I have sailed her honey harbor, as well as her back channel—several times, in fact. No matter what I demand, she yields, as she should.”

  Painful silence fell on the elegantly appointed room, and he regretted his words the instant he uttered them, because it was his responsibility to protect Sophia’s honor.

  Cager whistled.

  “Easy, Leland.” Jean Marc splayed his palms. “We are all friends here, and we meant no harm. And Cager and I are the last persons to throw stones, given we are in love with our wives.”

  “What do you mean?” He swallowed hard. “And do not repeat what I said, because I should not have spoken about Sophia like that, as what we share in the privacy of our cabin is our affair.”

  “He does not know.” Cager refilled Leland’s glass, and he accepted it and downed the amber liquid in a single gulp. “And that right there is a sure sign.”

  “A sign of what?” Leland speared his fingers through his hair. “What are you talking about?”

  “Relax, as it is not the end of the world, although it may feel like it.” Jean Marc chuckled. “But you care for your wife.”

  ~

  “How long have you been married to Jean Marc?” Sophia reclined on a chaise in the back parlor and savored afternoon tea with Madalene, a woman of delicate features and refined manners, which conflicted drastically with her husband, a somewhat crude character with a jagged scar that cut through a ghostly white eye and continued across his cheek. “And how did you meet?”

  “It has been just over three years, but it seems like yesterday when we wed on a beach, on a starry night.” Madalene averted her stare and smiled. “And he saved me from certain death, after my ship was attacked en route to Port Royal, where I had been summoned by my father.” Caressing her belly, she furrowed her brow. “Unbeknownst to me, my father hired a pirate to kill me, so he could claim the fortune I inherited through my American relations. However, I have no worries, as Jean Marc negotiated a gentlemen’s agreement with my disreputable sire, when I feared he might threaten or kill my father, so there is hope for your man.”

  “I am glad to hear that, but how awful for you.” Sophia thought of her own father and his unfortunate spending and gambling, yet he would never harm her. “I am sorry I brought it up. Please, forgive me.”

  “Oh, no.” Madalene propped her feet on an ottoman. “It is no burden, because in some respects I owe my father my happiness. Had he not tried to murder me, I might never have met Jean Marc, and I would not trade my life with him for anything in the world, as he is my love.”

  “Is that how you know Leland?” Desperate for knowledge of her husband’s background, because he was still not so forthcoming, Sophia found comfort in Madalene’s candor. “Did Jean Marc introduce you?”

  “Jean Marc and Leland come from the same line of work.” Madalene met Sophia’s stare. “Do you know what I reference?”

  “Piracy.” At last, it was out in the open, and Sophia sighed in relief.

  “Yes.” Madalene nodded once. “But I do not judge them, as they did not enjoy the same charmed upbringing as most children. Do you know Leland’s history, as it is similar to my husband’s?”

  “I do, and it breaks my heart to picture him in forced servitude.” Sophia recalled the conversation at the hotel and in the tops. “I want to help Leland, because I know he remains troubled, but I am not sure how to go about it, yet I know his past haunts him, and I would ease his suffering.”

  “It is the same with Jean Marc, and the only thing I have discovered that diverts him from the ugliness and pain he survived is lovemaking.” Madalene laughed. “From the expression on your face, I gather you know exactly what I mean.”

  “Are they really that simple?” Sophia inquired, with more than a little incredulity. “Because the only time my husband opens his heart to me is when we join our bodies.”

  “And it is not just any joining.” Madalene fanned herself. “If Leland is anything like Jean Marc, it is a full-scale assault, although I am not complaining, but it can be a quite arresting for a well-bred lady of character, because their habits tend toward the extreme.”

  “Exactly.” Sophia scooted to the edge of her seat. “I thought I was the only one.”

  “Sophia, I could write a book on how to seduce a bawdy buccaneer.” With a confident demeanor, Madalene tapped a finger to her chin and grinned. “And that is all they truly want—to be desired. They have spent their lives on the run from the authorities, from life, and from love, so mu
ch that when you give them a taste of that which they have fled, they devour it. They crave it, and they will give you whatever you ask, in exchange for your heart, because that is what they want. Only they do not know it until you offer it, but such devotion must be on their terms, and that is where the situation proves tricky.”

  “What is the answer?” Reflecting on Madalene’s advice, Sophia considered the possibilities and plotted a new strategy. “And how do you reconcile their unusual…appetites with propriety?”

  “In truth, you cannot.” Inclining her head, Madalene stuck her tongue in her cheek. “However, I submit that when it comes to the connubial bed, there is no such thing as right or wrong. Rather, there is only that with which you are comfortable. As you are married, what happens between you and Leland is your business, and only you can determine that for yourself. But I would caution you not to get too wrapped up in what others think.”

  “Madalene, you are genius, and never has anyone made anything so complicated seem so elementary.” But the advice was not as simple as it sounded. “What if I do not know how to seduce my husband? Given I was a virgin when we wed, and my mother passed long before I ever met Leland, I have only his tutelage upon which to draw knowledge, and I would please him.”

  “I have a marvelous suggestion, and it would enable me to treat my husband to a lovely surprise, given the stress of the impending birth.” In a strange dance, Madalene shuffled and shimmied, grasped the armrests, and stood. “Let us go shopping for something to entice our men, because I have found the right stimulant proves quite enough to satisfy my marauder. Follow me, my pretty friend, and let us enlist Francie, too.”

  “This is exciting.” Sophia trailed Madalene, and they paused in the foyer, where Cager’s wife arranged a bouquet of hothouse blooms in a vase. “So, where do we venture?”

  “You will see.” To the housekeeper, Madalene said, “Francie, prepare yourself for a trip into town.” She veered to the right and made for Jean Marc’s study. “Tell Cager you need some money.”

  “Where are we going?” Francie asked.

  “Where do you think?” Without hesitation or a knock, Madalene marched into the man’s domain. “Good afternoon, my handsome husband.”

  “Maddie, are you unwell?” Jean Marc stood and rounded his desk, to greet his wife. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is wonderful.” To Sophia’s surprise, Madalene backed up her husband, until he dropped to his chair, and then she perched in his lap. “I need money, because I wish to go shopping.”

  “Maddie, I do not want you to go out, as you could have our child at any moment, and I would not have my babe born in a hack.” With gentleness and care, Jean Marc held his wife, and Sophia marveled at their interaction. “Can you not give Francie a list, and let her procure the items you seek?”

  “I wish to visit La Femme Séduisante.” Madalene trailed a finger along Jean Marc’s jaw, and his transformation was nothing short of miraculous.

  “How much do you need?” Jean Marc opened a drawer, pulled out a box, lifted the lid, and handed her a stack of notes. “Spend whatever you wish, but do not be gone long, else I will come looking for you.”

  Without a word or prompt, Cager financed Francie’s venture.

  That left Leland as the lone remaining holdout.

  “I suppose you want to buy a few things.” Leland glanced at Jean Marc. “What is La Femme Séduisante?”

  “Just give her the money.” Cager snorted. “Trust me, you will not be sorry.”

  THE MAROONER

  CHAPTER NINE

  The mantel clock chimed the hour, as Leland sat before the hearth in Jean Marc’s study, revisiting his brief but impactful married life. While the women lingered upstairs, preparing some sort of surprise related to their shopping excursion that afternoon, he weighed anchor in solitude, because he wrestled with unfamiliar and unwelcome emotions, and he placed the blame where it belonged, on his wife’s delectable shoulders.

  “May I join you?” Jean Marc strolled to the side table, poured a brandy, and eased to the matching chair. “Why are you not in your bed, making love to that sweet wife of yours?”

  “I thought I was to wait until summoned.” And that bothered Leland. Was he a servant to do her bidding? Had their roles reversed? “Was that not their instruction?”

  “Ah, yes.” Jean Marc snapped his fingers. “La Femme Séduisante, every husband’s best friend, and soon you will understand why.”

  “Are you, at last, going to tell me what that means?” Bracing for whatever his bride devised, Leland resolved to persist in much the same state as he had prior to docking in Boston. “Because I do not like secrets.”

  “Yet you keep the most important one from your lady.” Jean Marc stretched his booted feet and slumped in his seat. “Which I find interesting, given she is much like my Maddie, kind and accepting, with the face of an angel. What have you to fear?”

  “To what do you refer?” Leland bristled at the accusation.

  “Do you think me ignorant of your dilemma?” Jean Marc stiffened his spine and then bent forward, to rest elbows to knees. “Do you believe I have not stared down that same terrifying path, wondering if I lost my sanity to the whims of a society lady?”

  “What do you know of anything?” Gazing into the blaze, Leland opened the door of his memory and reviewed his shameful history. “Does Madalene know I am the pirate her father hired to kill her?”

  “No.” Jean Marc heaved a sigh. “And that bit of information will go with me to my grave, because it would only hurt her, and that bastard who sired her wounded her gentle spirit, enough. Yet, I am grateful he hired you, because you never took to the life, and that is why you failed in your charge. It is not in your nature to commit murder, and that is why you are the Marooner.”

  “I am no innocent.” In disgust, Leland would have spat, but he did not want to spoil the fancy carpets. “Were I half the man Sophia thinks me, I would have found a better way to survive.”

  “Have you not?” Jean Marc shook his head. “Do you so easily discount what you are doing now? Have you not signed a pact with the English, in exchange for a full pardon, the authority of which extends to your crew, with no protection until you have fulfilled the terms?”

  “You know I have, but what of it?” Leland could not shed the past as he would a damp greatcoat. “And to what sort of future have I condemned Sophia, an innocent?”

  “Ah, we come full circle, mon ami, and that is the true source of your anxiety.” Jean Marc stood, retrieved the crystal decanter, and brought it to the small table nestled between their chairs. “I think we need this for the ensuing conversation, because love is far more terrifying than the worst buccaneer, especially when it invests your lady’s gaze.”

  “What do you mean?” Uncomfortable, Leland shifted his weight. “Who speaks of such drivel?”

  “Whether or not you appreciate it, your wife loves you.” Jean Marc refilled their glasses. “I saw it in her gaze as she admired you when she thought you unaware, and it mirrors the same devotion evident in yours, when you look upon her, so there is no use denying it.”

  For a long while, Leland mulled Jean Marc’s statement.

  “What can I do?” With shaking fingers, Leland gulped the liquid courage. “I bought her, Jean Marc. I did not win her. Rather, I paid the Earl of Ferrers a small fortune for his daughter, because the man is a drunk and a gambler, and I seized the opportunity. I took advantage of her adversity, because I wanted to debauch a highborn lady of character. I wanted to defile her goodness. I wanted to feed my base nature on her pristine flesh, as you claimed Madalene.”

  “Yet that is not what happened, so spare me your arguments, because no one knows the power of a woman’s heart better than I.” Jean Marc averted his stare and frowned. “Much like you, when I first met Maddie aboard the sinking Trident, my plan was simple. I wanted her round arse.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Given her vulnerabilities, she was no match for me, o
r so I thought. In my arrogance and ignorance, I worked on her, little by little, until she yielded the prize, only it was not enough. In truth, it was never going to be enough.”

  “So you married her?” Leland asked in a low voice.

  “No. I let her go, as I planned, but there was no victory in the undertaking. There was no triumph.” Closing his eyes, Jean Marc furrowed his brow and grimaced. “Instead, I crushed her, and the memory of her crestfallen expression, as I disappointed her, drives a knife through my gut, to this day.” Then he caught Leland in a pointed glare. “It is not love you fear. It is the possibility that you might fail Sophia that haunts you, because she is the most lethal adversary you will ever face.”

  “She knows of my life of piracy.” And that still stunned Leland. “She knows what I am, yet she accepts me. Do you know what she said when I told her?”

  “Let me guess.” Jean Marc scratched his cheek. “She admires you.”

  “How did you know?” Bewildered, Leland blinked.

  “It appears I married a woman not too dissimilar to your Sophia, and you are indeed blessed, although it may not always seem that way.” Jean Marc chuckled. “Your mistake is applying your logic to her, when I submit our ladies defy reason, but it is no great mystery. In short, your wife wants your heart. She desires not what rests between your legs but what beats in your chest, and she will settle for nothing less. I used to think that Maddie and I could solve all our problems in bed, but I quickly learned I was wrong, because that is but the dessert. Love is the main course, and Sophia will fight to her last breath to claim your heart and gift you hers, and it is a battle you can neither win nor lose. You need only accept her offering.”

  “I wondered where you two were hiding, as I sat alone in the kitchen.” Cager shuffled into the study and paced before the hearth. “What is taking so long? I expected Francie to summon me a half an hour, ago. Bloody hell, I am so hard I could poke a hole in her cast-iron skillet.”

  “Well that is a lovely thought.” Leland took another healthy swig of brandy, to wash the image from his brain.