by Ruth Kaufman
“I’m surprised there’s not maggots on it,” he said.
“Nay,” she said surveying it, holding it up in the sunlight. “Sebastian always keeps a bag of dry hardtack and a bladder of wine on him – he used to tell me in case the Cap’n ever decided to leave him on an island he’d at least have provisions.”
“So there’s no rum in here?” he asked, taking a swig.
“Nay,” she said. “But I could go fer a swig of rum right now m’self.”
“My sentiments exactly, tho I don’t know how you can even function after your little escapades with the potion last night.”
She looked at him and smiled. “I told ye – I can out drink any of the men.”
“I’d be interested to know what else you could do better than a man,” he said, ideas already filling his head of what a romp she’d be in bed. He’d never met such a little spitfire such as her. She amused him and impressed him at the same time.
“Well, don’t get yer hopes up te find out.” Her eyes traveled down his chest and settled at the opening of his tunic. He wondered if she were having thoughts, the same as him.
Her hawk busied itself tearing at the flesh of the fish and devouring it in front of them.
“Well, there goes our breakfast,” he commented, taking the oar in hand. He looked at the sun and calculated which direction they’d need to go to find land.
“She’ll bring more,” Echo commented.
When he started rowing, Echo pointed in a different direction. “Go that way,” she said.
“The shore is this way,” he commented, continuing.
“There’s an island not far from here, but over there.” She pointed again.
“I’ve been sailing these waters for some time now and I tell you –” He stopped in midsentence when he noticed an outline through the mist of an island exactly where she’d pointed.
“I’ve been living on these waters for some time now as well,” she said.
He turned the boat and rowed it in the direction of the island, impressed by her knowledge and embarrassed she’d bested him at his craft. The hawk took off in flight.
“She’ll meet us there,” said Echo.
“Fine,” he answered. “I just hope your father’s not going to meet us there as well.”
“We’ve probably got a day before he comes after us. He is stubborn and will most likely think I’m coming back. When he finds out his assumption is wrong, then he’ll come looking.”
She picked up an oar and helped him row. The waves were getting choppy, and Garrett knew the North Sea was unpredictable and the weather could change at any moment.
They rowed quickly and in silence until they reached the shore. Garrett jumped out and pulled the bow of the boat up onto the sand. She jumped out and together they slid it all the way up the beach.
“I want this out of sight in case your father comes looking for us.”
“What if the Cinque Ports ships come to find you? They won’t know ye’re here.”
“I’ll think of something,” he said, dragging the boat far up the beach and into a nearby clump of foliage to hide it. He turned it upside down and stuck the oars out of the sand holding it up on both ends.
“This will give us the shelter we need for the night. Now find that bird of yours and tell it to start fishing. I’m going to get wood. Hopefully, we can get a small fire going that won’t capture attention. I am famished and could really go for a fish dinner.”
Echo leaned back against a rock, licking her fingers from the fish she’d just devoured. The day on the island had been very relaxing without her father and crew. Skye had been very helpful indeed, bringing them two sole, one herring, and one whiting.
The bird sat perched on a branch above Echo’s head now, seeming content to be by her side once again. It made Echo’s heart happy that Skye had found her and chose to stay with her instead of with the ship. Her eggs were gone now as well as her counterpart, but at least they had each other.
The tide was starting to come in, but they were far enough from the water to be clear of it for the night. The sun was disappearing on the horizon, casting beautiful blue, gold, and red colors across the sky. She threw the fish bones into the fire and wiped her hands on her tunic. Then she picked up the bladder of wine and swigged some down before belching so loudly that her bird even jerked its head back in surprise.
“What a great meal. Thanks, Skye!”
Garrett started laughing aloud, and she turned to see what was so funny. He was looking at her. She’d never seen him laugh before. Of course, he’d never had reason to laugh aboard the Seahawk either. His eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth turned up in a half grin as if he were trying to hold back the laugh, but couldn’t.
“What the hell is so damned funny?” she ground out.
He laughed again as if something she’d said had amused him. Then he walked around the fire and came to sit by her side. He leaned back against the rock, and before she knew it, his arm was around her shoulder. She looked down at his hand and then back up to his eyes.
“You, sweetheart,” he answered. “You make me laugh.”
“Quit calling me sweetheart. Save it for some of yer pompous ladies of the court. It does naught fer me.”
Actually, she rather liked the endearment. It was nothing that she’d ever heard in her life from anyone. It made her feel special. But still, it made her uncomfortable at the same time. That was an endearment for refined ladies – not for a pirate’s daughter raised by whores and smelly sea dogs. Nay, she didn’t deserve that name at all.
“I agree you are far from a lady,” he told her, “and that is what I like about you.”
“What?” She wasn’t sure if he was being sincere, or making a jest.
“No lady could have saved my life, helped me escape, and out drank and tricked a ship full of men the way you did. I have never seen a woman climb the rigging, wield a sword, or fight. I have the wounds to prove your accuracy too,” he said with a smile.
“So . . . yer sayin’ ye like that in a woman?” she asked, trying to understand what he meant.
“I’m saying . . . I like that in you.” He brought his face close to hers, so close she could feel his breath on her lips. “You amuse me and amaze me every minute of the day,” he told her. “And . . . that excites me like no woman has ever done before.”
Before she could respond, he’d placed his lips gently over hers. He tasted like . . . the sea . . . and better still, sunshine and fresh air. There was a manly essence to him that excited her as well. He was handsome and courteous, and stood for morals and truth. He was the embodiment of everything that she’d been raised not to be. He protected the channel while she raided it. He was a knight with chivalric actions, and a baron who carried out orders for his king and country. She was a thief in the night that picked a fight for naught better to do when she was bored.
His lips caressed hers again, and his other arm encircled her as he pulled her closer. This time she realized she was tasting power and authority. Nobility and . . . passion!
She pulled away so fast she almost hit her head on the rock behind her.
“What’s the matter my Lady of the Mist, do I scare you?”
Scare her he did, but she would never let him know it. He scared her because once she tasted his lips upon hers and felt the warmth of his embrace, she knew it was what she’d been searching for her entire life.
“Nothing scares me,” she said with an upward tilt of her chin.
“I’d be willing to wager that is not so, and I know I would win.”
His lips came down upon hers with a bit more force this time. Almost as if he were claiming her, and waiting for her to be submissive in response. She was for a moment, until she felt like she was no longer in control. If she continued, she would end up in the same situation she did with Edgar. She couldn’t continue and feel good about herself when she was holding from him information that he really needed to hear.
She pulled aw
ay and blurted it out before she no longer had the courage to do so and changed her mind.
“Your brother Edgar is dead.” She closed her eyes and waited, but when he didn’t respond, she opened them again and wished she hadn’t. He removed his arms from around her, and the previously warm, laughing appearance of his face turned cold and stone-like. His eyes turned dark and angry.
“What the hell!” He shot to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “For God’s sake, Echo, please don’t tell me you had anything to do with his death.”
Well, the glimpse of an intimate moment was ruined, and only she was to blame. If only she had kept her mouth shut and let him continue kissing her instead. But she knew even in her black pirate heart, there was a spark of goodness that could not let that continue before she told him the truth.
“Sit down,” she said, “and I’ll tell you everything.”
“I don’t want to sit! Now tell me already before I beat it out of you.”
She got to her feet then, hand on the dagger at her side. “No one threatens me, not even a nobleman. And if ye even think of beating me I’ll have you down on the ground and tied before ye know what happened.”
Garrett looked at the woman standing before him with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips, dagger at the ready. He hadn’t meant to roil her, and would never raise a hand to hurt her. It was a figure of speech. He should have known he couldn’t talk that way to a pirate and not expect a retaliation of some sort.
“That’s not what I meant,” he told her. “I would never hurt you, I promise. But I need to know what happened. Edgar was my brother, for God’s sake. I have spent nearly the last five years searching for him, never giving up hope to someday find him still alive.”
She nodded then, and removed her hand from her weapon. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and continued.
“He was taken prisoner one night when we came upon his ship at sea. There was a violent storm that night, but my father insisted on trying to pillage anyway.”
“Aye,” said Garrett. “I was aboard that ship as well. We were being sent to France to fight for the king. My brother was young and ’twas to be his first battle. He was trained properly, but inexperienced. I promised my parents I would watch out for him, but I didn’t. We all did what we could to just get away from your ship and out of the storm.”
“But Edgar fell overboard,” she continued.
“Aye, because I wasn’t thinking he wouldn’t know how to handle a storm at sea. I should have been at his side and it never would have happened. Had I kept my promise, he wouldn’t have fallen overboard and you wouldn’t have collected him from the sea.”
“Not me, my father.”
“’Tis my fault he’s gone,” said Garrett, the heaviness of his heart feeling like a weight in his chest. “Continue,” he said softly, sitting down against the rock and putting his head in his hands. He didn’t know if he could handle what she was about to tell him. But he needed to know what happened . . . how his brother died.
“Edgar died . . . trying to escape,” she said. When she didn’t continue, he knew she was purposely holding back information.
“You either tell me the whole truth, or I swear when I get off this island I will . . . ”
“Stop!” she interrupted. “Don’t even threaten me or I will never continue.”
He let out a breath and rubbed his hands over his face. If only she were a normal woman, he would have had the entire truth out of her at the first kiss. He hated seducing her, but he knew she would never tell him anything unless he got her to let down her guard. And the worse part was – he’d let his guard down in the process.
What had started as a ploy, ended up with him really feeling something for a woman who was more like a man than she was a lady. This scared him more than anything else he’d been through lately.
“Please. Just . . . I . . . need to know.”
She seemed to consider it, then sat down next to him. She pulled his hands away from his face and he met her eyes with his.
“I don’t want you to think less of me for what I’m about to say, but there is something I need to tell you before I continue.”
Once again, she surprised him by her words. Why would a pirate care what anyone thought of them? Maybe there were more layers to Echo then he could even imagine.
“What is it?” he asked, hearing the slight tremor of his own voice.
“While Edgar was a prisoner, which wasn’t but a few months, I . . . I took a liking to him.”
“I don’t understand. What does that mean?”
Echo looked away, hating every moment of this. He wasn’t making it easy. How could she tell him she’d bedded his brother and not look like a whore in his eyes? She knew what whores were and what they did. She’d been raised by her father’s many whores, never having had a real mother. She didn’t want to end up like them some day. But her life was so dark already, she supposed one more strike against her would barely matter.
“I coupled with him,” she blurted out. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, waiting for his response.
“I see.”
His words were emotionless and she didn’t understand his reaction. She turned to look at him.
“I said I coupled with him,” she repeated. “Does that . . . bother you?”
“I heard you the first time,” he said in a low voice. “And why would I expect anything different from a pirate? Did you do it as a form of punishment? Or perhaps entertainment as the whole ship cheered you on?”
She slapped him then. Hard. And pounded her fists against his chest. “I hate you,” she cried. “’Twas my first time and I thought I cared for him. I was curious and thought he cared for me too. But you make it sound like you think I am naught but a whore. I hate you Garrett of Blackmore and I always will.”
He grabbed her wrists in his hands and stopped her from pounding on his chest. His eyes bore into her, making her feel insecure for the first time in her life.
“I don’t know what you thought you had with my brother, but I assure you if he coupled with you ’twas only as part of a plot to escape. He was noble, my pirate lady, and would never, I repeat never, couple with you of his free will.”
He pushed her away and she felt herself trembling at his words as well as his touch. The gentle, laughing, caring man she’d glimpsed moments before was gone. Now an angry, callused, unforgiving man stood in his place.
He stood with his back to her, his silhouette outlined in the last rays of the setting sun. His tall form towered over her, making her feel like naught more than a bilge rat as she sat there exposing her secrets to a man who thought of her as nothing more than a cutthroat and a whore.
“Just tell me one more thing, and then I don’t want to ever hear you mention my brother’s name again. How did he die? And who was responsible for killing him?”
“He was trying to escape much the same way we did, with the boat,” she explained. “He could have made it, had I helped him. But I didn’t want him to leave, nor did I want my father angry with me. So instead I just watched, and because of that, Edgar is dead.”
“So that’s why you helped me escape,” he replied, never turning around. “You can’t make up for your past guilt now, sweetheart. ’Tis too late for that.”
“Don’t tell me about guilt when ye harbor more guilt fer yer brother’s death than both of us put together.”
He turned slightly, and she could see the outline of his face masked in orange from the setting sun.
“Did your father kill him?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, and he wouldn’t let it go.
“Tell me, Echo. I need to know.”
“Aye,” she answered. “My father was the one who stabbed ’im through the heart and threw him into the sea. But ’twasn’t because he was trying to escape.”
“Then why?” He turned to look at her now, and she was glad his face was shadowed because she couldn’t bear to look him in
the eyes when she told him the next part.
“Was it because you coupled with him that he killed him?” Garrett asked.
She swallowed deeply before she continued. “Not really. He didn’t even know about it til a few months after it happened.”
“Then why would he kill him? What was it that made him do it? Was he drunk at the time?”
“My father is always drunk if you haven’t noticed. He also has a temper. He killed him that night out of anger. I’d been sick every day for months, and other things changed with me too.”
“You were seasick?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“Nay, Garrett. My father killed your brother in rage when I told him I was pregnant with Edgar’s baby.”
Chapter 7
Echo awoke to the sound of her hawk squawking from atop the overturned boat. She lay beneath it, sheltered from the wind. Garrett had been so angry with her that he had disappeared after she’d told him about the baby, and not returned all night. She hated herself for ruining what was a wonderful moment between them, but she also felt an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders at the same time.
“What’s all the commotion, Skye?” she asked, crawling out from under the shelter to the light of a new day. She was surprised to see the fire still burning, and realized Garrett must have come back during the night to tend to it after all. She was sure he only did it to ensure himself a meal in the morning, and not at all for her comfort. He hated her now, and she knew she deserved it. If she were in his position, she’d feel the same way.
Skye shrieked again and took off into the air. It wasn’t until she followed the bird’s flight with her eyes that she realized just what her pet was trying to tell her. There in the distance, but not far out at all, was a slow moving ship – of the Cinque Ports.
Garrett came running across the beach just then, shouting and waving his arms. She decided the vessel was too far out to see him and they needed a signal on a larger scale. She looked down to the fire and knew what she had to do. She owed it to Garrett. He needed to get back to his own people.