“Do you know where it is?”
“I know approximately where it is. Have no fear that we shall find it.”
“You do not do much traveling on land, do you?”
He grinned, flashing that white smile and big dimple in his left cheek. “It makes me ill to travel on land,” he said, teasing her. “Some men become sick with the motion of the sea, but I become sick with no motion on land. It is a terrible sight.”
Gregoria giggled, her smile turning real. “I hope it does not come to that, my lord.”
He waved her off. “Be assured that I will not humiliate myself in front of you,” he said. “Now, settle in. I must see to my men. But I shall return once we are at sea. Which reminds me… do not leave this cabin for any reason. The men that staff this vessel are killers and worse, and they may look at you as an opportunity. Is that clear?”
“It is, my lord.”
“Bolt this door when I go. Open it for no one but me or Lucifer or Remy. You met them last night. Do you recall?”
“I do, my lord.”
“Good. Then settle in and I shall return.”
Gregoria nodded, watching him leave the chamber and quickly rushing to the door, throwing the bolt as she’d been instructed. Then, she stood there a moment, hardly believing they were actually on the ship and that le Brecque was actually on his way to Wales.
In fact, ever since her meeting with him yesterday, the situation had moved so rapidly and she was coming to feel as if this were all a dream. Never did she imagine her plea to le Brecque would have been accepted so quickly and without suspicion. The man had been more than willing to help her, all for the sake of Miles Tenby. The information that Lord Wembury had paid for had been worth the cost, many times over. The name Miles Tenby had worked like magic with le Brecque, as they hoped it would.
Now, they were going to sea. Coming away from the door, Gregoria looked over the gorgeous room, thinking that it looked very much like a woman had decorated it. Perhaps a woman had. In any case, she was here and they were on their way to Wales… where one thousand of the Earl of March’s troops would be waiting for them.
Waiting for Constantine.
Gregoria hadn’t cared about betraying the pirate le Brecque when she became part of Lord Wembury’s plot. She still didn’t particularly care. All she cared about was doing as she’d been instructed and receiving her house and garden, as her brother had promised. Constantine was bringing men with him, that was true, but they would be nothing against March’s troops. Unless Constantine surrendered, it would be a slaughter. But it was the man’s own fault… he’d been too trusting of her story.
Fortunately, for her.
Moving over to the bed, she timidly petted Edward’s big head as he lifted it and wagged his tail. She rather liked the dogs; perhaps she could take them with her to her little house by the sea where they could frolic in the garden and forget their lives as the dogs of a pirate.
… a pirate…
There was something in her that was begging her to feel some guilt in all of this, guilt that she was about to lead a man to his doom. Such a handsome man, too. Other than their initial discussion yesterday, she hadn’t much time to really talk to him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. She already thought he was wildly handsome but if she came to like him, too, then that could mean trouble. So early in the plot, she didn’t need any complications. The less she knew of Constantine le Brecque, and the less she spoke to him, the better it would be.
She didn’t want to like the man she was helping to kill.
Gregoria began to fight off those thoughts of guilt and betrayal as the Gaia finally weighed anchor and pushed away from the white, sandy beach. She was watching the ocean beyond her open windows, with the salt spray and gulls crying overhead. It was really very beautiful and the soft sway of the boat had a soothing quality. Much like being rocked in a mother’s arms. The boat turned around, slowly, and she soon found herself watching the shoreline as it grew more and more distant, and the sea beneath them became a dark, crystal blue.
Given that this was the first time she’d been to sea, Gregoria found it all rather exciting. It was all so fresh and new. On the deck above, she could hear men calling out commands, or calling out to each other over the hiss of the wind and sea. She couldn’t hear much but she knew there was a great deal happening on the main deck and she leaned her head out to hear more clearly what was going on. The wind drowned out the words, however, and they simply became sounds she couldn’t make out, so she pulled her head back in and stood at the window, watching the sea pass beneath them. It was astonishingly peaceful, something timeless and serene about it. Now, she could understand what Constantine meant about being restless on land.
At sea, there was something that fed one’s primal soul.
A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts and she quickly turned from the window, remembering what Constantine had told her. Open it for no one except me or Lucifer or Remy. Heart pounding with a bit of apprehension, she made her way hesitantly towards the door.
“Who comes?” she demanded.
“’Tis me, my lady,” came the muffled voice. “It is Con.”
Somehow, the sound of his voice and the mention of his name made her racing heart beat even faster, but for a different reason this time. Was it actually possible she might be happy to see him? Quickly, she raced to the door and yanked it open. Constantine flashed her his white-toothed smile as he pushed into the cabin, shutting the door behind him.
“If the weather remains like this, we should see Wales by late tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve ordered top speed.”
Gregoria had no way of knowing that it was a lie; he hadn’t ordered top speed at all. He specifically told his men to slow the pace of the travel, all of this so he could spend more time with Gregoria. But, alas, Gregoria was oblivious to his intent. She simply smiled in return.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, realizing he was looking at her with a good deal of interest in his expression and it was something that made her nervous. She turned away. “I… I have never been to sea before. This is all very new to me.”
Constantine followed her like a hunter tracking prey as she moved towards the big windows that overlooked the rudder. “I thought you said your husband was a merchant.”
Gregoria reached the windows. “He was,” she said. “But he purchased good from ships. He did not go to sea himself.”
“He did not own vessels?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “But he had men he purchased from regularly. Some of them were no better than pirates themselves, the way they sold questionable items and… oh… I did not mean to say that. Forgive me.”
Constantine leaned against the open windowsill, smiling at her. “You have said nothing untrue,” he said. “I’ve known enough merchants in my time to agree with you. In fact, my father was a merchant.”
Her eyes widened, surprised. “Was he?” she said. “He was not a pirate, too?”
Constantine laughed softly. “My father was a well-to-do merchant based in Newquay,” he said. “He had a fleet of many vessels and the family had been in the business of sailing and goods exchange for several generations. That is how I first came to know the sea.”
Gregoria was interested. “But you did not follow the family tradition?”
His smile faded and he wriggled his eyebrows. “Regrettably, I did not,” he said. “Although I’d meant to. A mistake on my part led me to quite another path in life.”
“You mean that you accidentally became a pirate?”
His smile was back and he chuckled, looking out over the ocean. “Nay,” he said. “I did not accidentally fall into this line of work. It was a choice, more or less. But if you must know, years ago a woman I was betrothed to told me that a pirate named Shaw MacDougall had murdered her brother and begged me to exact revenge. Of course, being young and foolish and in love, I did as she asked me. As it turned out, MacDougall did not kill her brother – she wa
s simply trying to get me killed because she was carrying on an affair with another man. Being that we were betrothed, if I died, she would inherit money from me simply because of the contract between us. I did not kill MacDougall when I discovered the woman’s plan, but I did kill her lover, the man she had forsaken me for. He was from a well-placed family and a price was put on my head, but my father wouldn’t help me. In fact, he disowned me.”
Gregoria was genuinely surprised to hear his tale. “That is terrible,” she said. “But how did you become a pirate?”
Constantine looked at her, then, a half-smile on his lips. “Because the one person who did not disown me was the very man I’d been sent to kill,” he said. “Shaw MacDougall may be the prince of all pirates, carrying on a great and dark legacy, but he is also a man of loyalty and understanding. He saw what had happened and how’d I’d been duped. I swore my oath to him and captained one of his vessels for a time. But when my father died shortly after he disowned me, I inherited all of his wealth and his merchant ships. He’d never changed his will. I became a pirate in my own right, now allied with MacDougall rather than being subservient to him. In fact, I am far richer than he could ever hope to be, much to his displeasure. But we are brothers to the bone.”
It was an interesting tale, one that gave Gregoria more insight into the man, which was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to do. Now, she was feeling some sympathy for him as she understood his path to a life of piracy.
“MacDougall,” she murmured pensively. “I seem to have heard that name, haven’t I?”
Constantine nodded. “If you have lived near the sea, or have had dealings with merchant vessels, then you have surely heard of him,” he said. “He is a pirate prince, literally, adopted by the last in a long line of pirate princes, dating back hundreds of years to a man named Arthur MacAlpin. Shaw is a pirate in every sense of the word, but he and I have something most pirates lack.”
She cocked her head curiously. “What is that?”
“Honor.”
Gregoria’s gaze lingered on the man. She was becoming increasingly enamored with him, whether or not she realized it. He had an oddly gentle way about him, completely unexpected from a man with such a reputation, and when he spoke of honor… there was no doubt in Gregoria’s mind that he knew what it meant.
“That is not a word usually associated with piracy,” she said, “yet you speak as if you understand it.”
He lifted his eyebrows, slowly inching in her direction. In fact, he’d been inching in her direction for the past few minutes, only she hadn’t noticed because she hadn’t moved away. He’d been so discreet about it that she hadn’t even realized he was trying to close the distance between them.
“I do understand it,” he said, his voice quietly. “I was trained as a knight. I fostered in the finest houses until I was of age and then I was knighted by my master. But I never really had the opportunity to use my skills because the incident with MacDougall came shortly thereafter and I have been at sea ever since. But one does not forget honor, not even when one lives the life of a pirate.”
Gregoria was coming to think that there was far more to Constantine le Brecque than met the eye, but in a good sense. This was no mindless, blood-thirsty pirate. This was a man of insight and feeling. She found herself wanting to dig deeper, to know more about him, because everything she knew about him had been relayed to her by Lord Wembury.
There were always two sides to every story, and to every reputation.
“Was your father a lord, then?” she asked. “How is it possible that you trained as a knight if your father was of the merchant class?”
There was a very good reason for that but Constantine wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her. It wasn’t something he spoke of. Still, it wasn’t like it was a secret. His true parentage had been common knowledge among the nobility for years.
“You do not know?” he asked. “You have not heard the truth about me?”
“What is the truth?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, hinting at a smile. “That I am the bastard son of a king,” he said. “I was born the year of my father’s coronation and I fostered in the finest houses because that is what my real father demanded. When I spoke of my father, the merchant, I was speaking of my adoptive father. His sister was my mother and that is why I bear the name le Brecque – it was her maiden name. She died after I was born and I was given over to her brother and his wife to raise.”
That was quite a bit of personal information he spoke freely of, either because he didn’t care who knew or because he was truly unconcerned that such information meant nothing at all. But for Gregoria, it was the most important of information – it was the very information that had an entire faction plotting to remove him. She couldn’t believe he seemed so unconcerned about something that would lead to his downfall. Was he truly so clueless to the fact? She almost wanted to shake him – do you not understand that there are those who want to kill you because of your royal blood?
But… no. She couldn’t say a word. She was committed to completing her task for Wembury, and for her brother, and she was committed to her house by the sea with the garden. That was all she wanted; to retire there and live in peace. She couldn’t worry about the pirate she was about to betray in order that she should receive her reward. It was what she had to do or she would never be able to live in peace.
Still… guilt was starting to make itself be known.
“’Tis a fascinating story, truly,” she said. “Which king do you claim as your father?”
Constantine’s grin broke through. “I am not fair like the Spanish, nor am I dark and dirty like the French,” he said. “You called me an earl when you first arrived at Perran, so surely you can answer your own question.”
She had asked for the earl last night. She’d forgotten that fact until he’d reminded her. She wondered if that slip wasn’t going to give her away and she scrambled to answer evenly. “My… my father told me that you were an earl,” she said. “I do not know your full title, but he’d mentioned it once. Did I do wrong by addressing you in such a way?”
He shrugged, lazily. “You did not,” he said. “It is not something I hear very much. But enough about me; I wish to know about you. We have not had much opportunity to speak other than the conversation we had last night. All I know about you is that you are Miles Tenby’s daughter and that you were married to a man named Meyrick. I wish to know more about you.”
Gregoria hadn’t expected that turn in conversation and she flushed, turning away from him when she realized that he was suddenly very close to her. His big body was brushing up against her right side and she took a step away, discreetly, to put distance between them, but Constantine quickly closed the gap.
“There is not much to tell,” she said, feeling the heat in her cheeks at his close proximity. “I was born, I grew up, and I was married for a very short time. I live modestly with… with my mother.”
She tried to move away again but Constantine snaked an arm around her waist, preventing her from moving away from him. His other hand came up, cupping her face as he gently kissed her cheek.
“Please tell me there is nothing modest about you,” he rumbled. “Please tell me that you are a woman of pleasure and leisure for, truly, a woman of your beauty is meant only for such things.”
She gasped when he kissed her, swiftly pulling away and ending up over by the bed. She stood there, panting, as Constantine went in pursuit. “I am not a woman of pleasure,” she said breathlessly. “Are you inferring that I am a… a…?”
“A whore?” Constantine finished for her, amused. The fact that she was running from him only seemed to feed his lust. “Lady, you are clearly not a whore. But with your luscious body and sweet face, you are made for a man’s pleasure. That is clear. And it seems to me that you are a lady who needs protection now that your husband is dead.”
Gregoria was growing faint as she realized what he was suggesting. He made a swipe for her but she
moved away, out of range.
“I am not made for a man’s pleasure!” she gasped, outraged. “I have never… that is to say, my husband was the only man… he… no one else has ever touched me!”
It was a lie, but she was grasping at straws now, off-guard with Constantine’s pursuit. He could see he had her on the run but, as far as he was concerned, it was a feminine game to feed his want for her. She was toying with him and, like a fool, he was falling for it. The more she ran from him, the more he wanted her.
“That will change,” he said confidently. “My lady, you are without a husband now. I am offering you my home, my protection, and my bed. You shall never want for anything ever again, I swear it. Let us return this holy relic to Wales and start anew from there. You shall have a place of honor in my household and riches beyond your wildest dreams. Do you understand what I am offering you?”
Gregoria was shocked. Frightened, outraged, and shocked. But she was also flattered, and those emotions battled it out for supremacy as she tried to stay away from Constantine. The man had a terribly hungry look in his eye.
“I will not be your whore!” she said.
“I did not say whore. There are better words for it than that; some of the greatest women in the world were concubines or companions to great men.”
“Concubine?” she nearly shrieked. “That is nothing but a brood mare!”
Constantine was starting to laugh; he was also starting to close the gap between them. She had backed herself into a corner of the chamber and the only way out would be to run around him.
But he wouldn’t let that happen.
“Brood mares serve a purpose,” he said evenly. “I can only imagine what strong sons I would have from you.”
If Constantine wasn’t sure if she could become any more outraged with the conversation, he was wrong. She was quickly growing furious.
“Concubines are cheap, common women,” she scolded. “I am not cheap and I am not common. I resent you for suggesting it!”
Poseidon’s Legion Page 8