Brides of Ireland: A Medieval Historical Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He was speaking of fellow pirate commanders Kerk le Sander and Augustin de Russe, men who were as close to him as brothers. He’d missed them while they’d been away, especially Augustin’s doom-and-gloom personality that was always great fun to taunt. Across the table, Remy spoke to his concern.

  “As long as his wife is with him, Augustin will enjoy himself,” the young pirate said. “And Kerk can entertain himself anywhere. I would be more concerned that Constantine focuses on his new wife and not the fact that he is not back at Perran, doing what he does best.”

  Lucifer had to admit that he’d thought of that, also. One could take the pirate out of the waters and put him on land, but one often could not take the pirate out of the man. That kind of life was ingrained into a man’s soul. Constantine had been at sea so long that being on land any length of time tended to make him irritable. But with a new wife to focus on, Lucifer was hoping that wasn’t the case.

  The man deserved some joy and peace.

  “Con needn’t worry,” he said, returning his focus to Genevieve as she listened to the conversation. “I am in command while he is away. This is my domain now.”

  Genevieve had been listening to them discuss men, and the situation in general, but it seemed to her that the last statement was directed at her. Perhaps, it was a subtle threat. Perhaps not. In any case, she swallowed the bite in her mouth and took a long drink of the sweet red wine. It was delicious. She wanted to make a comment about a pirate lord on his wedding trip, perhaps giving in to the pirate instinct when he was supposed to be celebrating a marriage, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to start trouble because she had an ulterior motive in mind. She maintained the hope that good behavior might earn her some favor with these cutthroats.

  “I have never been to France,” she said. “I have always wanted to go. Surely, you and your men must travel a great deal in the course of your… duties.”

  Lucifer shrugged. “We do not go there with a purpose in mind. But if there is a task to complete, then we have found ourselves on their shores,” he said. “Our domain is the sea between Cornwall and Ireland, all the way up into Scotland. These seas are ruled by the Pirates of Britannia.”

  He sounded very dominant, very warmongering. She wasn’t surprised. “But these seas are also traveled by peaceful men,” she said pointed. “Merchants and fisherman. What of them? Do you not allow them to have peace in your domain?”

  Lucifer sensed that the conversation was going to take a negative turn with her question. Her tone was taking on an indignant edge. He wanted to steer the focus away from what could become volatile because he was truly trying to keep the situation pleasant.

  “What is peace?” he asked rhetorically. “Does any man truly have it in this world? But let us not speak on such things for they will only bring about sorrows. I wish to speak of you. You mentioned earlier today that your father was using you to pay a debt he owed. I will admit that I am curious to know what you mean. Will you indulge me?”

  Genevieve looked at him. Her first reaction was to deny him. But upon further consideration, she thought, perhaps, that it might be a good idea to seem as if she were being compliant. All the better for her to get what she wanted out of him in the end.

  “My father is a wealthy man, but he has two fundamental problems,” she said. “He likes to hoard his wealth for the most part, but he also likes to gamble. I know that sounds strange, but Father is not generous with his money to others. He is only generous with himself, and that means that he indulges a gambling habit. When I said he was using me to pay a debt, I meant a gambling debt to a man he owes a great deal of money to. His name is Francis de Noble, Lord Ermington, and he is the captain of a privateer vessel. Mayhap you have heard of it? The Resplendent?”

  Lucifer lifted an eyebrow. In that explanation to satisfy his curiosity, he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for. “I know it, indeed,” he said. But he went no further. The Resplendent was a vicious warship out of Southampton, with ties to the king. Poseidon’s Legion had a few run-ins with the vessel. So this was de Noble’s betrothed? “Surely, your father believed it to be a good match. I am sure de Noble is… worthy.”

  Genevieve was in the process of drinking more wine, now snorting rudely to his statement. “Francis de Noble is not what you would call a desirable man,” she said. “The last time I saw him, I had seen eleven summers and, even then, he was old enough to be my grandfather. I cannot imagine what he must look like eight years later. Nay, my lord, I want nothing to do with Francis de Noble.”

  “But you were returning to Plymouth to marry the man.”

  “De Noble’s men came to Ireland and made Genni board the ship by putting swords to her back!” Vivienne abruptly piped up, causing everyone at the table to look at her. Appalled to realize she was now the center of attention, her face flushed violently. “She did not want to go but they forced her.”

  She shoved bread into her mouth so she couldn’t speak anymore, head lowered. Genevieve couldn’t help but grin at her sister. Vivienne didn’t say much, but when she did, it was usually something she shouldn’t be speaking of. She blurted things all over the place sometimes. She was not a brilliant conversationalist, but that was part of her youthful charm.

  “Nay, I did not want to go,” Genevieve said, returning her focus to Lucifer. “But I was forced onto the ship by de Nobel’s men, men who were lost when you attacked us. I cannot say that I am sorry for them.”

  Lucifer was beginning to understand the situation a little more. Genevieve was being forced back to England to marry a man she wanted no part of, caught in a circumstance of her father’s making. He remembered again how valiantly the sailors aboard the merchant vessel had fought for her. It wasn’t chivalry at all.

  They’d been protecting their prize.

  Nay, this was no innocent betrothal or happy return to England, and any man who bartered a daughter to pay his gambling debts was an unscrupulous man, indeed. Even Lucifer, with years of piracy behind him, didn’t approve of such a thing. There was thievery and piracy, and then there was the betrayal and piracy of one’s own flesh and blood. Lucifer couldn’t say he would so willingly give his daughter away to pay a debt. In truth, Genevieve’s tale explained a little of why she was so belligerent – evidently, she had some right to be.

  “Then mayhap, we did you a favor,” he said after a moment. “You are no longer destined to marry de Noble.”

  Genevieve was watching him closely, already finished with one cup of wine as a servant poured her another. She didn’t usually drink wine that wasn’t watered, so the full force of the drink was already pulsing through her veins and loosening her tongue.

  “I am not,” she said. “But mayhap, you will understand when I say I would rather spend my life locked away in your dungeons than sold off to the highest bidder. Do you still intend to sell me?”

  Lucifer could see her forceful nature pushing through with her honest question. She had put him on the spot, something he didn’t particularly like.

  “Do you truly wish to discuss this now?” he asked. “We are having a pleasant meal and a pleasant conversation. Surely, you do not wish to ruin that.”

  Genevieve took another swig of wine, unaware that the wine was not only loosening her tongue, but also causing her to feel her emotions – like fear. Looking at Lucifer, she was suddenly more fearful than she had ever been since her arrival.

  “All prisoners are offered one last meal before they lose their lives or their freedom,” she said. “Is that what this is? My last meal before you consign me to the nameless horror of my future?”

  Lucifer could see that the conversation was taking a downturn. He didn’t want a battle with the woman, not now when the evening had been going so well. But perhaps, it had only really been going well for him. Why had he invited Genevieve to his table? Because he couldn’t get her off his mind? Because he was intrigued with the woman? It was both, and he knew it, and he certainly didn’t want a fight on his
hands, not when things had been pleasant up until this point. There was disappointment in the thought of it going back to the way it was earlier, when they had nearly come to blows in her chamber. Nay, he didn’t want that at all. He found himself wanting to ease her.

  Abruptly, he stood up.

  “Come,” he said to her as he came to her chair and practically pulled her to her feet. “Walk with me, lady.”

  Genevieve found herself being pulled along. Her wine was still in her hand, but Lucifer removed it from her grasp and set it on the table. Before Genevieve realized it, she was being forcibly escorted from the hall as Lucifer had her by the arm. By the time they hit the keep entry, she began to struggle.

  “Wait!” she said, digging her heels in even as he tried to pull her forward. “Where are you taking me?”

  Lucifer almost lost his grip on her as he took her into the bailey. “Out here,” he said. “It seems to me that you have been held captive for too long in a confined space and need to breathe fresh air. I believe you are losing your mind.”

  “I am not losing my mind!”

  “You are clearly unbalanced.”

  Genevieve was outraged. “I am unbalanced because you told me that my sister and I are to be sold to the highest bidder,” she fired back. “Put yourself in my position. If you were me, would such a future not unbalance you?”

  He came to a halt and she yanked herself from his grasp, slapping at his hands when he tried to regain his grip. Rather than get into a slapping fight with her, he stopped his attempts to reclaim her. Instead, he faced her. But facing her meant he was looking at her. And beneath the nearly full moon, her beauty was exquisite, enough to cause him to pause and stare. Truly, he didn’t want to fight with the woman. But he would reason with her.

  “I am not at issue here,” he said. “We are speaking of you. Tell me, my lady. If you had your choice, what would you have me do?”

  Genevieve blinked at the question, that he should ask such a thing. “Do?” she repeated, almost dumbly. But she quickly recovered. “I would have you release me, of course.”

  “Release you where?”

  “Back to Ireland,” she said firmly. “I want to go back to Ireland.”

  He nodded as if that was reasonable enough. “Back to your father’s properties?”

  “Aye.”

  He cocked his head. “Correct me if I am wrong, but if I send you back there, won’t your betrothed go looking for you there again?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “I mean that he forced you onto a ship to bring you back to England, once,” he said. “If I return you to Ireland, won’t he come for you again? This time, he may actually succeed in forcing you to marry him. Pirates might not be around to save you from your fate.”

  Genevieve thought on that seriously, mostly because Vivienne had said the same thing. In her heart, she knew it was true. But could she admit that to him? Would she? Suddenly, her view of her world turned into a crushing, confusing thing. There was nowhere she could go that de Noble wouldn’t find her, and he had every legal right to do so. But what had the most impact on her was one thing Lucifer had said – pirates might not be able to save you this time.

  God’s Bones, he was right. Pirates had saved her.

  Sighing heavily, she looked away.

  “Vivi also said that de Noble would find me in Ireland again,” she muttered. Then, she shook her head in resignation. “I have three choices for my life and none of them are appealing – I can return to my betrothed, I can be imprisoned in your dungeons, or I can be sold to the highest bidder. Is… is that truly all I am to be? Is that truly all I will ever become?”

  Lucifer heard such hopelessness in her tone. Coming from such a strong woman, it was a sad thing to hear, even for him. Oddly enough, he felt some guilt for it. Even if she was bold and unruly, still, she at least had strength enough to stand for herself and, in his own way, he was coming to admire that.

  “It seems to me that the best of those choices would be to return to de Noble,” he said quietly. “At least you could live as his lady wife, with some freedom and wealth.”

  She looked at him, them. “Are you saying you would return me to him?” Before he could answer, she shook her head firmly. “Nay, I will not go to him. I told you before – I would rather be imprisoned in your dungeons before I would go to him. But tell me something, Lucifer… if this is about the money because, as you said, I have some value, is there some way I could buy my freedom from you? Mine and Vivi’s?”

  Lucifer wasn’t even offended that she’d called him by his name. In fact, he rather liked it. But her question not only surprised him, it amused him.

  “Do you believe you have enough money to buy your freedom?” he asked.

  Genevieve shook her head. “Not now,” she said, “But I could work it off, couldn’t I? Would you let me do that? I can manage a house and hold, and I can do many things. I could be of value. I… I could also go on your ships and take care of the cooking. I can even fight. Could I become a pirate to buy my freedom?”

  Lucifer fought off a grin. He thought that was about the most ridiculous offer he’d ever heard, but it was an earnest one. He could see that she was serious.

  “You would make a fine pirate, no doubt,” he said. “From what I saw in your chamber earlier today, you would make a very cunning one.”’

  “Then you will let me become a pirate?”

  His grin broke through, then. The woman was quite determined, and he sincerely had no doubt that she would become a pirate if he permitted her to, but he also had a suspicion that Constantine would have his hide if he let her. A female pirate? Ridiculous!

  “Mayhap it is something we will discuss,” he said, noncommittal. “But if you are serious about buying your freedom…”

  She cut him off. “I am! I truly am!”

  He eyed her, seeing that she was totally sincere, and it gave him an idea. More and more, he was reluctant to sell the woman off. As he’d observed before, she was a fine beauty. If her accomplishments were real and not simply a boast, then she was too good for the rabble that would buy her. A woman like Genevieve Efford deserved a husband of some strength and quality.

  Her suggestion had put thoughts in his head, thoughts he was wholly unfamiliar with, but Genevieve was unlike any woman he’d ever met before. The more time he spent with her, the more she intrigued him. It was a curiosity that was beginning to overwhelm him. After a moment, he simply nodded.

  “I will think on it,” he said. “Meanwhile, let us return to sup and a more pleasant conversation. Will you at least allow for that tonight? I have no desire to do battle with you. And if we can come to an equitable arrangement for us both, then I see no reason to fight. Is that acceptable?”

  For the first time since her capture, Genevieve felt some hope. She truly did. “Aye,” she said. “It is.”

  Lucifer extended a hand to her. “Then shake my hand and call it a bargain.”

  Quickly, Genevieve did. “A bargain is struck, my lord.”

  Lucifer’s attention lingered on her, the soft shape of her face, her big eyes. And her hand… he was still holding it long after he stopped shaking it. With a faint smile, he tucked that same hand into the crook of his elbow and led her back into the great hall of Perran Castle.

  The rest of the meal progressed as smoothly as a windless sea.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Three Sails Inn

  The Village of Portreath

  Ten miles south of Perranporth

  The Spanish were on time.

  Curtiz had been sitting by the door since before dawn, waiting. He’d ridden away from Perran Castle in the wee early morning, when the area was still dark and dangerous, and a fine coating of dew covered the land. It had been times such as these that made Curtiz realize he missed the land. He really wasn’t a sailor by trade, but a mercenary. He’d served with the reputable de Nerra mercenary army, based near Erith Castle in Cumbria, but he’d been f
orced to flee when he’d killed one of the commanders. It had been a silly argument, really, but Curtiz had felt strongly that his honor had been smeared as a result. And when a commander tried to intervene in his fight, he’d accidentally killed the man.

  So, he’d wound up in Cornwall, taken in by perhaps the greatest group of pirates anywhere on the seas. But he felt no loyalty to them; he never had. Curtiz’s loyalty was only to himself, which was why he now found himself sitting at an inn very early in the morning, waiting for a group of equally unscrupulous Spanish pirates to arrive. This had been the designated location and week from the missive they’d sent back to him two weeks ago. Given that they were in the area as a result of the Melinoe’s encounter, Curtiz suspected they would be here if not today, then tomorrow or even the next. He intended to come every morning to see if they’d left a message for him, perhaps to indicate another meeting place or even another time. But so far, there had been no word left for him.

  Unfortunately, that meant his patience was waning because time was growing short. Lucifer had made it clear the previous night when he’d invited the captive women to sup that his focus was now on the pair. One of the women, the eldest and prettiest one, had even asked about Lucifer’s intention to sell them off, which meant Curtiz would have to move swiftly if he was going to benefit from this. He had something of value to sell to the Spanish if they were swift enough to move on it.

  One could only hope.

  Curtiz sat near the window of the inn as the common room began to come alive around him. Men and women who had slept on the floor, or even on tables, began to stir. People were coughing, stretching, and the low hum of conversation could be heard. Over near the hearth, which was very poorly constructed, a man was sweeping out the ashes before putting hunks of peat on the fire. Heavily, it began to burn, belching smoke out into the room.

  But Curtiz didn’t pay much attention to what was going on in the room. He was focused on the windows, which had been un-shuttered as the day began, and he could see the road beyond and the town of Portreath as it began to come alive.