Page 39 of The Pirate Takes A Bride

“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.

Chapter Eleven

Ashley 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.

A trunk with tightly packed skirts, blouses, and gowns had been brought ashore, and the women crowded around to exclaim over the bounty. The sailors, who had collected these gifts, were pleased with the reception and went back to their chores with chests puffed out like tropical birds. There were more garments by far than ladies, and Ashley had several pressed into her hands by the women. Most of them did not speak English but conversed in what seemed to Ashley to be a mix of Spanish, French, and some other language. She understood enough to know she was invited to go with them to change her garments.

Eager to be rid of the filthy, tattered gown she’d been wearing for weeks, she followed obediently. The women led her to a small, freshwater pond. Without even a backward glance, the ladies threw off their clothing and dove in. Ashley, who had spent her life worrying she might be admonished for allowing an ankle to show, would have loved to defy convention and follow the women’s example. If she had not been so ashamed of her burned leg, she would have gleefully stripped down with the others. As it was, the sun was bright, and she wanted no one to see her ugly scar. She left her chemise on and bathed with it, glad to feel the cool water on her skin and washing the dust from her hair.

Once she was clean, she looked through the garments for a clean chemise or a new pair of stays. There were none. As the women finished their bathing, they dressed in the skirts and blouses with nothing underneath. Ashley did the same, careful to slip on a skirt under her wet chemise before removing the garment so that no one would see her leg. She donned a bright red blouse, which went well with the red, blue, and gold skirt she wore, but she felt strange to be dressed in a garment without a chemise and stays underneath. Her nipples rubbed against the cloth, making her feel altogether wicked.

At the same time, she was glad to give up the awful stays. She had struggled daily to lace them and then don the garment by herself. She’d taken to simply leaving them on so she would not have to bother with the chore. She certainly missed her lady’s maid more than ever, but with these clothes she did not need a lady’s maid. Indeed, any English lady’s maid would be shocked to see her dressed with nothing underneath.

The other women, still chattering, made their way back to the beach, but Ashley stayed behind to wash her stays and petticoats. She might need them again, and she wanted them to be clean. A few moments into the chore, she realized she was not alone. She turned her head slightly and caught Rissa watching her. Ashley went back to her washing, but the girl did not leave, which meant Ashley had to say something. What was she supposed to say to a child? Perhaps if she pretended she was Maddie...

“Hello,” Ashley said, remembering Maddie always greeted children warmly. “My name is Ashley.”

“I know,” the child said. “My Papa told me.”

Ashley nodded. She wondered what else Nick had told the child. But she needn’t wonder long, for once the girl began to speak, she warmed to the task easily. “He said you are his wife now, and you are from England. That’s why you are so pale and your eyes so light and strange.”

Ashley put a hand to her eyes. The color had been called beautiful many times, but never strange.

“I saw just now when you took off your dress”—she indicated the chemise— “you are white all over. Have you never gone in the sun?”

“I—” Ashley began, but the child did not wait for an answer.

“Papa says there is not as much sun in England as there is here. He says I will go to England with him. If you are his wife, does that mean you will be my mother?”

Ashley waited for the girl to prattle on, but of course, the one question Ashley did not want to answer was the one the girl silenced herself in order to hear the response.

“Ah...what did your Papa say?”

“He said time will tell. What does that mean?”

Not much to a child of five. “It means much will happen before we go to England. I don’t know if I’ll be your mother. I’ve never had any children before. I don’t really know how to be a mother.”

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