The Sea Witch

  His life had brought shame to his family. He'd chosen a life of secrets. Of clandestine meetings and high state secrets, and even, God help him, assassinations. He was

  a man without roots. And she was firmly rooted in home, family, community.

  He abruptly lifted his head. "Go belowdecks now and get some sleep."

  "I don't want to leave you, Riordan."

  His tone was rougher than he intended. "Go. Quickly. Before we both do something we'll later regret."

  She heard the urgency in his tone and looked up to see his eyes hot and fierce. A little thrill shot through her.

  But was it a thrill of excitement? she wondered. Or fear?

  She sensed something hot and smoldering in him. A low, simmering heat that, if fueled, could blaze out of control. It excited her even while it frightened her.

  Reluctantly she turned away. "Good night, Riordan."

  At the steps leading to the lower cabins she turned for one last look. His hands were on the wheel. Hands that could make her tremble with need.

  She dragged in a deep breath before stepping belowdecks. Leaving him alone. Alone to face thoughts that were as dark as the midnight sky. And as distressing as the storm clouds that were blowing far out on the distant horizon.

  Riordan trimmed the sails and glanced over to see Ambrosia take the wheel from her grandfather. The old man . mopped at his forehead before taking a seat under the canopy they'd hoisted on deck. The housekeeper and nurse, looking as fresh as they always looked at MaryCastle, had already settled themselves under the canopy and were enjoying the air.

  It was a perfect summer day, the breeze fresh, the sun glorious. Riordan calculated that if they had no delays, they might make London within two days. He glanced over to admire the sight of Ambrosia, dressed in sailor's garb, handling the wheel with the ease of one born to the sea.

  "Ship on the port side," Bethany shouted. "Bearing down fast."

  At once Ambrosia called for Newton to take the wheel while she and the women went belowdecks.

  Riordan studied the approaching craft through his spyglass. It was as small and sleek as the Sea Challenge. He felt himself relax. Not a rogue, but a gentleman's craft, flying an English flag.

  By the time the two ships were close enough to shout a greeting, the three Lambert sisters had come on deck. They'd changed into proper gowns, their hair arranged beneath bonnets. Ambrosia was all in white, Bethany in green and Darcy in pink.

  Mistress Coffey had hurried to prepare a lunch, so that they would appear like any other family out on holiday. Winifred Mellon, dressed in a frilly white frock, walked on deck carrying a white parasol to ward off the sun.

  The three young women helped their grandfather into his jacket, then took their seats around him.

  Riordan handled the wheel, while Newton lowered the sails. The two craft slowed to a crawl.

  On the deck of the second ship a man and woman stood by the rail. The woman cupped a hand to her mouth. "Ambrosia. Bethany. Darcy. Is that you?"

  Ambrosia groaned as she recognized the high, shrill voice. "Sweet heaven, it's the village gossip, Edwina Cannon."

  "Oh, what a grand surprise," Edwina called. "With your permission, Mama and Silas and I will come aboard."

  Ambrosia fixed a smile on her face. "Aye. Newton, will you help the ladies aboard?" Under her breath she muttered, "If we're lucky, they both might fall in."

  "Hush, Ambrosia," Winifred said with alarm. "That's no way for a fine lady to talk."

  "Aye, Winnie. But as you have seen, your fine ladies are something quite different than you'd thought."

  "You are, indeed." Their old nurse looked around at the three sisters, relieved that they had chosen proper attire.

  Newton scrambled over the rail and secured the two boats with rope, so that they couldn't pull apart. Then he offered his hand to Edwina and helped her over the rail, then did the same for her mother.

  Behind them, Silas leapt easily across the distance, landing on the deck. He glanced around, surveying the scene. "A bit far from home, aren't you, Miss Lambert?"

  Ambrosia put a hand on her grandfather's shoulder. "Grandpapa misses the sea. We try to take him sailing as often as possible. Especially when the weather is so pleasant."

  "Aye. It is." Silas turned to Riordan at the wheel. "What are you doing here, Spencer? I'd heard that you were captain of the Undaunted now."

  "Did you?"

  "Aye. I was told she put into port yesterday, then left within hours on another mysterious voyage. I would have thought you'd be aboard."

  "As you can see, you were mistaken." Riordan kept his smile in place. "It would seem that you've been given a great deal of misinformation lately."

  Silas gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. "The sailors talk when they're tipping a few at the tavern."

  "So it seems." Instead of offering an excuse, Riordan changed tactics. "What are you doing in these waters, Silas?"

  Edwina put a hand on his arm in a possessive manner. "Silas is taking Mama and me to London." She smiled up into his eyes. "Mama was scandalized at first when he suggested it, knowing how dangerous these waters can be. But when Silas assured her that no one would dare accost him, and that he could actually get us an audience with the king, Mama relented. After all, how many of us living in Cornwall would ever get the opportunity to see the king?"

  "Sing?" Geoffrey Lambert leaned forward, cupping his ear. "That's fine, lass. Sing us a tune." She wrinkled her nose. "Nay, Captain Lambert. The king. I want to see the king."

  "A ring?" The old man caught her hand and frowned as he studied her fingers. "I don't see it." She pulled her hand free and turned to her mother, belling her eyes. The two women turned away, ignoring him as if he were addled. With a smile he closed his eyes.

  Edwina leveled a look on Ambrosia and her sisters. "It's such a pity you three can't come up to London with us. Silas is so important. He said he sees the king often. In fact, he's expecting that he will soon be given a very important position in the king's council." She sighed. "Ah well. I'll tell you all about it when next we meet."

  "I'm sure you will." Ambrosia began filling cups. "Tea, Edwina? Mistress Cannon?"

  The two ladies accepted a cup and helped themselves to biscuits slathered with fruit conserve.

  "Tea, Lord Fenwick? Or would you prefer ale?"

  "Ale." He accepted a goblet from Ambrosia's hand and felt the way she flinched as he deliberately tangled his fingers with hers. He gave a smug smile. So, it would seem the fearless Ambrosia Lambert wasn't quite so fearless after all. There were some things that could still make her uncomfortable. He'd remember that in the future. Especially since she had gone to so much trouble to snub him.

  She poured a second goblet for Riordan, who had turned the wheel over to Newton. The old man held it steady as the two ships bobbed on the gentle waves.

  While he sipped his ale Silas studied Riordan carefully

  "I can't believe you'd allow the Undaunted to sail without you. Especially in such treacherous times as these."

  "You're presuming that the villagers are correct and the Undaunted has actually set sail, Silas."

  Riordan was rewarded by a narrowing of the other man's eyes. "We sailed past the cove where the Undaunted usually sits at anchor. There was no sign of her."

  He'd taken the time to check on the Undaunted. That knowledge made Riordan uncomfortable. He studied the number of sailors aboard Silas's ship. "That's quite a large crew for such a simple journey."

  Silas smiled. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the tales of rogue ships in the area."

  "Aye." Riordan returned the smile. "I've heard of them. But I doubt they'd be interested in craft as small as these. We'd have nothing of interest to pirates."

  The implication struck Silas with the force of a blow. For a moment he looked around as though seeing this ship for the first time. "You're a clever one, aren't you, Captain Spencer?" He drained his ale quickly, then turned to Ambrosia and her siste
rs. "The Sea Challenge is a fine sleek craft. Would you mind if I take a look at her?"

  "Not at all." Ambrosia smiled and offered him a biscuit. "But wouldn't you care for some lunch first, Lord Fenwick?"

  "The ale was quite enough." He walked around the deck, looking over the rigging, the sails. A short time later he started down the steps leading belowdecks.

  Ambrosia cast a horrified look at Riordan, who quickly set aside his ale and followed.

  Riordan watched as Silas opened the door to the captain's cabin, glanced around, then closed the door and moved on to the crew's quarters. "Are you looking for something in particular, Lord Fenwick?" Silas spun around. "I just wondered how many can comfortably sleep aboard a craft of this size."

  "We're about as comfortable as you are aboard the Sea Devil. The captain's cabin is occupied by Geoffrey Lambert. As you can see, there is ample room for the rest of us in here."

  Silas took note of the five hammocks on one side of the cabin, and two on the other.

  He started toward the quilt-covered mounds between them. "What's this?"

  "Trunks." Riordan stepped in front of the first, before Silas could pull aside the quilt. "You know how it is with five women aboard." He gave an easy, conspiratorial smile. "I don't know how many trunks Edwina and her mother brought for their voyage to London, but I believe the Lambert sisters and their elderly companions brought half their wardrobe for this simple picnic."

  "Trunks? They look too big for..." Silas started to nudge him aside. Just then they heard the sound of hurried footsteps.

  Ambrosia came to a halt in the doorway. Riordan's eyes widened when he caught the glint of light at her waist and realized that her dagger, tucked into her waistband, had pulled loose and was clearly visible.

  He coughed. Annoyed, Ambrosia looked at him. He stared pointedly at her waist. For the space of a heartbeat she couldn't grasp his meaning. Then, as the truth dawned, she covered her lapse by crossing her hands over her middle, effectively hiding the hilt of her dagger.

  "Forgive me, Lord Fenwick." Her breathy tone was made even more pronounced by the fact that she'd barreled down the steps, nearly tripping in her haste. "I realized that my sisters and I may have left some ... delicate clothing lying about in plain sight."

  She moved from one hammock to the next, praying she could find something that would justify her words. Just then her hand encountered something soft, and she lifted up a delicately embroidered chemise.

  "Just as I feared," she said aloud. "Miss Mellon would be horrified at our lack of dignity."

  She silently counted to five, permitting both men a chance to view it before clasping her hands behind her and backing toward one of the quilt-covered mounds.

  While Riordan and Silas watched, she lifted a corner of the quilt and slid the chemise underneath. Then she stared at the floor, avoiding their eyes. She even managed to blush before saying, "I hope you won't judge us too harshly by this, my lord."

  "Certainly not." Silas studied the color that rode high on her cheeks, and the way she avoided looking at him. Perhaps she actually was this modest. Or perhaps, as he believed, she had something to hide. "Forgive me, Miss Lambert. I fear I've invaded your privacy. I'll leave you to it."

  He walked from the room. As Riordan turned to follow, he could see the little gleam of triumph in those dark depths. Swallowing back his own misgivings, he managed a smile and a wink before trailing Silas from the cabin and up the stairs to the deck.

  Bethany and Darcy were doing their best to look interested as Edwina and her mother regaled them with plans for the wedding, while Mistress Coffey and Miss Mellon hung on every word. Geoffrey Lambert was dozing in the shade of the canopy. Newton held the wheel steady and was staring off into the distance.

  Silas seemed in a hurry as he crossed the deck and

  paused at the circle of women. "Come, Edwina. Mistress Cannon. It's time we were off." He accepted Bethany's hand, then Darcy's, brushing his lips over their knuckles. "Thank you for the lovely respite, ladies."

  "It was our pleasure, Lord Fenwick." Darcy gritted her teeth and forced herself to hug Edwina. "I do hope you get your audience with the king."

  Edwina giggled, then allowed Silas to lead her to the rail. There he paused and shook hands with Riordan before lifting Ambrosia's hand to his lips.

  Once again he held it a moment longer than necessary, and felt the way she flinched. It gave him real pleasure to know that he had the ability to disturb her sense of calm. He was about to disturb her a great deal more when he left here. "I look forward to seeing you when we return to Cornwall, Miss Lambert."

  "And I you, Lord Fenwick." She snatched her hand away.

  "Miss Lambert..."

  "Aye?"

  "Your secret is safe with me. I won't tell a soul that you left a ...delicate item of clothing in plain view."

  "Thank you, Lord Fenwick. Your discretion is greatly appreciated."

  Silas lifted Edwina and helped her across the rail, then did the same for her mother, before leaping easily to join them.

  As the two ships separated, then began drifting apart, the three stood calling out.

  "Goodbye." Ambrosia waved happily. "Safe journey."

  When they were far enough away that they could no longer overhear what was being said, Riordan turned to

  Ambrosia with a look of admiration. "Well done. That was quick thinking belowdecks."

  She smiled. "I overheard you saying the quilt-covered mounds were our trunks. I'm just grateful that I managed to snag an article of clothing. We'd dressed in such a hurry, after spotting their ship, I was hopeful there would be one or two things we'd overlooked."

  Riordan gave her a long, lingering glance. "You're an amazingly quick-witted woman, Ambrosia. Especially when things aren't going well. But I shouldn't be surprised. You come from an amazing and bright family."

  He glanced over at Geoffrey Lambert, who was now fully awake and watching the other ship drift off their starboard side. "Exceedingly dull women," he was saying to his granddaughters. "I don't believe there's much under those fancy bonnets except hair."

  "Captain Lambert." Mistress Coffey's mouth turned down in a frown of disapproval. "I'm shocked and appalled that you would say such things about two of Land's End's most important citizens."

  "Useless twits," he muttered in reply.

  "Was that what put you to sleep, Grandpapa?" Ambrosia called.

  He gave her a mischievous smile. "I wasn't sleeping, child. I was merely escaping their annoying chatter."

  Riordan threw back his head and roared. Aye. An amazing family. Even the old man wasn't at all what he appeared. Deaf indeed. Riordan began to wonder if there was anything at all the old man missed. Not much, he'd wager. Not much at all.

  Still, as he watched the Sea Devil veer off course, he couldn't shake the feeling that Silas Fenwick hadn't been fooled by their clever scheme. And if that were true, their picnic could turn into a disaster.

  * * *

  Aboard the Sea Devil, Silas Fenwick gave his ship's captain an order. "We're changing course, Captain Barlow. I wish to put into port at Cairn." Edwina and her mother shot him matching looks of rise.

  "I must insist, Lord Fenwick, that you consider the danger to my daughter and me. I've heard that Cairn is a treacherous place. That it's nothing more than a haven for pirates and cutthroats."

  Silas smiled. "Aye. I've heard that, as well. But you have no need to fear, Mistress Cannon. As long as you're with me, you'll be safe. It's a colorful place. No voyage to London is complete without the chance to walk through the town and perhaps tip an ale in one of the taverns beside a pirate." He turned to her daughter. "Would you like that, my sweet?"

  Edwina looked up into his dark, enigmatic eyes and gave him one of her brightest smiles. "I can't wait to go back to Land's End and tell my friends that I actually visited the town where pirates live and work. Come, Mama. We must put on our best bonnets. And we'll need parasols as we stroll the streets. You heard Si
las. We need have no fear as long as we're with him."

  They walked away. The moment they disappeared below deck, Silas's smile disappeared. His eyes darkened with simmering anger.

  "Aye," he muttered. "We'll be safe enough. Though I can't say the same for a certain family who thinks they've outwitted me. Oh, how those fools shall pay."

  Ambrosia tossed and turned in her hammock, aware of the man who slept just a short distance away. Even the fresh sea air and the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull of the Sea Challenge couldn't lull her to sleep.

  Feeling too restless to settle down, she draped a blanket around her shoulders and climbed topside.

  Newton stood at the wheel, gazing into the darkness. Without turning his head he called, "Can't sleep, lass?"

  "How did you know I was here, Newt?"

  "Ye have a way of walking, lass. Soft, like a kitten. What's wrong? Ye should be resting for the morrow."

  "I can't, Newt." She prowled the deck, running her hand along the rail, pausing to catch hold of the rigging, before giving a sigh of impatience. She turned to him and blurted, "What do you think of Riordan?"

  So that's how it was for the lass. He should have known. She was caught in the throes of first love. At least she'd chosen well.

  The old sailor thought a moment. "He's short on patience. Doesn't suffer fools. Nor does he talk unless he has something to say. But he's steady. He's a man of honor. And if I had to go up against a rogue ship, I'd want him by my side." The old man turned and fixed her with a look. "Riordan Spencer's a man who will always steer a straight course through rocks and shallows, lass."

  She knew that Newton wasn't speaking of sailing now. He had just paid Riordan the highest of compliments. Touched by her old friend's honesty, she nodded thoughtfully and walked away.

  The old man watched as she settled herself by the rail to stare up at the stars. Then he drifted back in his mind to a time when he'd been young and confused and wildly in love. Such a long time ago. But there had been a lass with sunlight in her hair and moonlight in her eyes. And though he'd already been around the world, and had

  faced storms and battles and sharks, nothing had ever terrified him as much as that one small female, who'd held his heart in her hands. And had left it so shattered, he'd feared it might never mend.