“Brigid,” Liam breathed.
***
ALL of the air was struck from Liam’s lungs. He was sure his heart had ceased beating in his chest and he wondered if perhaps this was some wishful hallucination, giving him what he had been denied for so long. A flick of his eyes to the little boy at Brigid’s feet proved that idea false. No dream would bring him Brigid like this. Only a nightmare.
The lad unquestionably had her hair and the look of wary mistrust in his eyes was entirely Brigid. The most damning bit of evidence was the wedding ring on her finger, though. She had moved on.
“Liam.” Brigid’s voice was hushed, as if afraid to shatter the spell they both found themselves in.
“That’s my name!” the lad piped up. “When Mamaí is mad, she calls me ‘Donovan Liam L—’”
Liam gave a start of surprise at that, wondering what her husband would think of naming their son after her former lover. Brigid turned to the boy sharply, something like alarm in her voice. “Hush, Donny.” When she faced Liam again, her lips parted as if to speak, but she remained silent.
Liam was unsure of what to say as well, but saying anything at all had to be an improvement over standing there and staring at one another. “Y-you’re looking well,” he finally stammered. “And I see you’ve…settled yourself.”
“Settled?” she echoed dubiously, sparing another look at the lad.
“Thank the Lord, you’ve found him,” a woman’s voice cried, drawing Liam’s attention briefly away from Brigid and the boy. An older woman with hair of gold and silver was hurrying over to them. As soon as she reached the trio, she looked the lad over quickly, then turned her attention to the adults. Her eyes widened at the coins in Brigid’s hands. “Oh no. Did Donny steal that?”
Brigid gave a small nod, then jerked her head toward Liam. “Mam, this is Liam.”
The woman brought a hand up toward her mouth as she gasped, before she composed herself once more and offered the hand in greeting. Liam accepted it and gave a perfunctory bow over it, vaguely remembering at least some manners.
“Ann O’Cullane. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
“Aye, and I’ve heard a bit of you as well.” Now surrounded by a family he had no part in, he was beginning to feel a tickle of anxiousness. The hair at the back of his neck was raising as he wondered if Donny’s father might arrive next.
Brigid stepped closer and pressed the coins into his hands. Just the brief brush of her fingers against his palm made him remember far too much of her touch. Her eyes met his and he wondered if the same memories were haunting her.
“I know this is unexpected, but do you have the time to visit? Perhaps somewhere more private?” she asked.
The thought of meeting her husband turned his stomach, yet he couldn’t say no. Just a few moments more in her presence after all the years would be worth that suffering. Even if anything they could have was firmly in the past, just catching up with her would be a pleasure. “My ship doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning. I have the time.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WATCHFUL EYES
“DONNY, luv, we’re going back to the inn. Would you like to look at the puppies with Gran?”
The little boy nodded, eyes huge and bright, and Brigid had to smile. He wasn’t yet aware of who Liam was and she wondered if she would tell him. Some secrets were less painful when kept, after all. As they started back toward the inn, she watched Liam out of the corner of her eye, noting the way his own eyes followed every movement of the boy. There was a look of amused admiration on his face. Ann was gripping the boy’s hand again to keep him from escaping. Every few steps, Donny would pause and duck down to find something new on the street. As soon as he picked his treasure up, it disappeared into a pocket.
After a moment, Liam noticed her looking and turned his head toward her. “Did you teach him how to steal like that?”
She laughed and shook her head. “No. He just came that way. He’s always looking for things to collect. Shiny things, mostly, but anything that catches his attention is fair game.”
“Aye, that sounds about right.”
“How did he manage to pick your pocket?”
“Slammed into me shortly after I’d left my ship. I leaned over to help him to his feet and make sure the lad wasn’t hurt and then when he ran off I noticed his pockets jingling. My purse…wasn’t.”
“Your ship.” She looked him up and down, once again noting the well-tailored clothing. The coat and breeches weren’t booty. They had clearly been sewn just for him. His boots weren’t new—they were visibly broken in—but in good condition. Whatever wealth he was spending on his wardrobe wasn’t new either, then. “Are you a merchant captain now?”
“Off and on,” he answered with a grin. The easy confidence of that look and the reminder of the adventures she’d had by his side were enough to make her forget the last four years. Her knees went a little weak and for a moment she was just a girl driven to distraction by a beautiful, dangerous man. His eyes narrowed slightly and his grin took on a lascivious hint, making her realize her thoughts had been blatant on her face.
She turned away quickly, her cheeks warming. “When did all this happen?”
“Came into possession of the Wild Rose about two years ago. Running a crew of two dozen men. S’not exactly where I thought I’d end up, but I’ve got no complaints.” When she looked at him again, his expression had softened to something wistful. He glanced at her from the corner of one eye. “And sometimes I still go off, chasing the impossible.”
Hearing that was comforting. Not everything had changed. Even stability and wealth didn’t keep him from seeking out adventure. “That sounds good. Sometimes Donny’ll stay with my mother and I can go off a little on my own. I could afford leaving him with someone, but I worry.” No one else could be trusted with the lad. Were Liam around, Brigid imagined he would be the best choice for watching over Donny. He certainly had advantages that she didn’t.
“I’m glad for that. Your da was right. You were never meant to hold still.”
“I’m far stiller than I’d like to be.” She looked ahead to her mother and son, then cleared her throat and glanced over toward Liam once more. “When you sail tomorrow, are you chasing the impossible or delivering goods?”
“Goods. To England.”
It was too little time, she lamented to herself. Donny would need more than just a few hours in his company before Liam was gone for weeks. Of course, that rested on the assumption that Liam would be interested at all. She forcefully reminded herself of how he had ignored her overtures to stay together and left her in the Bahamas.
“What of yourself?” Liam asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you just passing through or are you settling in Port Royal?”
“We’re just here visiting. Do you remember Siobhan Rackham and her husband?” Liam nodded, so she continued. “They have a house in the city. They hadn’t arrived back into port yet when I went calling earlier this morning, though.”
“So where was it you settled, then?”
“The same as before; we’re a bit south of here, but expanded the farm.”
“So your hus—” Liam cut himself off shortly. He stopped walking as well and raised his head slightly to sniff at the air, a concerned look on his face.
Though she knew it would do her no good, Brigid mirrored him. The air of Port Royal was rich and foul, as any crowded port city would be. Amidst sweat and fish and human waste was something else, though. Something that seemed familiar and sent a rush of fear through her even though she couldn’t place it.
“Why don’t we stop dawdling and hurry on to this inn?” Liam asked.
She agreed.
***
CATS were not uncommon in the marketplace. They were particularly thick near the fish mongers, forming a gauntlet of scavenging from there to where the fishermen came in at the docks. A grizzled old tom slinking his way through the crowd didn’t raise any notice. Even those attem
pting to sniff him out never caught sight of him.
The cat was black with white markings on his coat. Time had not been kind to him. Though he was large in skeletal frame, there were no fat reserves left on his body. He still had a decent amount of muscle mass left, but it was clear that this was an animal that had moved beyond the prime of his life.
Burn scars were visible through his fur on his two front paws and the right side of his face. They were small, as though he had been splattered with burning oil. The fur refused to grow back over those scarred patches, yet they didn’t cause any physical pain after their initial healing.
The cat jumped up atop an unused stool at a booth, taking advantage of the perch while the owner was busy haggling with a woman over the price of fruit. He raised one paw to his mouth to lick the back of it, then began to groom himself as he watched his prey flee.
He could wait. The kit running around alone had been what had first caught his attention. There was no use for a young buck, but one that small meant a mother would be close by. He hadn’t been able to believe it when the kit’s father appeared and then the two led him back to the mother.
Liam and his mate looked to have done well for themselves in the intervening years, but they were still just vermin. Elazar relished the thought of killing the kit in front of his father, then ravishing Brigid before finally giving Liam the death he would no doubt be begging for.
“Shoo! Get out of here!” The fruit seller snapped an apron at the cat, unwilling to risk touching him. It was a reasonable caution, as the feral cats that made their living in the marketplace were vicious and had no fear of humans.
Elazar yawned insolently before twitching his tail at the man, then leaped gracefully down from the stool. Now that he had their scent and had seen the direction they were going in, he was fairly confident he could track the ratkin family down without them realizing just how close he was until it was far too late.
Until then, he could wait.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SILVER IN A POCKET
LIAM watched as Donny ran off to see the promised litter of puppies at the inn. Ann and Brigid spoke briefly—and quietly—to one another before the older woman followed after Donny. Liam hung back, feeling somewhat like an intruder. That the innkeeper’s wife was staring at him curiously the entire time didn’t help matters at all.
“I’d like to talk as privately as possible, if you don’t mind,” Brigid said, nodding toward the stairs.
“No, I don’t mind. Lead the way, then.”
Truth be told, he had been hoping that they might spend some time alone together. Not for anything questionable, of course. It just seemed as though it would be easier to speak freely in private. He didn’t know what Ann knew of him and the lad really shouldn’t know anything about his mother’s past lover. So the fact that Donny was being looked after and Brigid meant to take him to her room was more than welcome.
The room was quite a bit larger than the ones he and Brigid had shared before. This was more like a little home than simply a spare room in an inn. The bed was large and looked comfortably appointed. A wardrobe near the bed made him think that the room was typically used for longer stays than just a night or two. A writing desk was along one wall, with a collection of interesting bits and things beside it on the floor. There was a blanket crumpled there, half shrouding rocks, twigs, seashells, hollowed out egg shells and other things he couldn’t identify. It looked like the sort of ordered mess he associated with childish play, though he had been a child himself the last time he spent any time around children.
On the far side of the room was a small table against a window. Three chairs were clustered around it. Brigid crossed the room to settle into one of the chairs, then gave Liam a gesture to come closer. Accepting the unspoken invitation, he took the chair directly opposite hers and sat down. He set his hat down at the center of the table.
Through the window, he could see the streets of Port Royal. Most of the buildings were made of stone, though how well that stone was used could vary greatly. The inn was in one of the more attractive parts of the city and all of the buildings looked as though they had been laid out with an artist’s eye. Just to afford the view from the inn, she had to be doing well for herself. It pleased him to think of that. Wealth didn’t make up for everything in life, but it counted for something.
“Donny’s ratkin.” Brigid’s abrupt words drew his attention back to her. Her hands were clasped before her on the table, her eyes steady on him. “I know you have to leave tomorrow, but…I could really use some help or advice or something. You have no idea how hard it’s been to care for a baby rat when I’m no rat myself.”
Her seriousness surprised him somewhat. He had warned her that it was a possibility with her being a half-breed, hadn’t he? He grinned as he leaned back in his chair. “I was wondering if he was. It shows. I can give you all the advice I have, lu—” Liam cut himself off there. “Brigid,” he corrected, then cleared his throat. “And I can talk with him, if you like.”
“I would like that.” Some of stiffness in Brigid’s body melted and she gave him a relieved smile. “And, ah, he doesn’t know who you are. Do you want him to know?”
One dark brow rose slightly as Liam tilted his head curiously. That the boy didn’t know their past seemed a reasonable assumption, but why would Brigid think he should know? “Should he?”
The relief in Brigid’s face vanished, replaced with a look of annoyance. She straightened up in her chair a bit, her hands coming unclasped to grip the edge of the table. “You do know where babies come from, don’t you, Liam?”
He parted her lips to ask her what that had to do with anything, but before he could say anything more the sense of it all came trickling in. “Oh. Oh, God, Brigid. I didn’t know. I…why didn’t you find me?” There was no anger in his voice. He couldn’t possibly be angry with her over that. But, God, had he known…
She shook his head at his question. “My mother tried to find you, but she couldn’t. She went through all of Da’s old contacts. Months went by without luck, so she suggested maybe I should find someone who’d marry me anyway.” Brigid waved a hand at that, sighing. “I told her I didn’t want to and just gave up entirely. You hadn’t seemed at all interested in spending an extra day with me before, so it seemed a wasted effort anyway.”
A sick feeling had settled into Liam’s stomach, mingling regret and guilt. “I didn’t think you’d wanted me around anymore either. I kept looking whenever I was in a port, hoping I’d see you, and—” He glanced down at her hands, then leaned forward to examine the wedding ring. “Is that the same one you wore then?”
When he rose his eyes to her face again, she had a faint, wry smile. Her left hand left the table’s edge and she offered it to him. He accepted it gratefully. “Aye. I tell people my husband was lost at sea and presumed dead. Keeps them from saying anything about Donny and gives me the freedom of a widow.”
Liam gave her hand a squeeze. “You hadn’t outright asked me to stay. You were a good woman with money and I was a pirate. I thought you had better things to go on to.”
It had made sense to him, after all. They had gotten what they both wanted. It had been time to part ways and go back to what they had been doing before they met. That she could want further time with him, that he could possibly be worth that, seemed impossible and foolish. Now instead, he had been incredibly thick in an entirely different way.
He shook his head at his own stupidity. “I…I’ve never been too bright when it comes to matters of the heart, luv.”
“I tried to ask you to come back with me, back to my mother. I didn’t want to part ways. You just kept suggesting all the things I could do other than travel with you.”
“Oh.” He remembered her saying those things, but hadn’t understood what the significance had been. He hadn’t understood why she was so hurt when he was trying to be helpful.
She looked down at their joined hands, her thumb gently tracing against his
work-roughened knuckles. “And I wasn’t a good woman, not by the time I was done with you.”
“You are a good woman, Brigid. It’s not nothing to do with purity. And had I known…” He looked back to the door, thinking of poor Donny. Growing up like that with no one to show him the ropes was a tragedy all its own. In some ways, it was worse than Liam’s loss of his parents. At least he had them in the beginning to help him understand what he was.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Brigid was looking toward the door as well. Even in profile, her face looked sad. “So do you want to tell him who you are?”
“Brigid, if I’d known I wouldn’t have left. That’s…for ratkin, that’s just not done. It’s not safe. I wanted to stay with you, but with this…” He trailed off, then swallowed past the lump in his throat to nod. “Aye, I want him to know.”
“No, it’s not safe. It was a good thing you told me before you left. I wouldn’t have known what happened to Donny when he turned into a little pink baby rat in my arms one day. It was so hard to care for him and even now I can’t chase after him if he runs off, because he can just shift and hide from me. There’s so much danger and there’s no way to protect him from it all.”
Brigid gently pulled her hand free him his before rising to her feet with a deep breath. “Shall I go get him, then?”
“Aye. Please.”
He watched her walk out the door, his mind racing. All of those years alone and he had a son the entire time. A son he had failed to care for, breaking one of the most sacred rules of ratkin society. Kits born out of wedlock happened and weren’t such a terrible thing, but they still had to be cared for. A father who abandoned his own offspring was often enough condemning them or their descendents to death, for they would have no warning of what lurked within their blood.
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