“Alicia, if I wasn’t happily married, I’d beg you to run away with me.” Nate embraced her as well, mindful of Violet asleep in her mother’s arms.
“If I wasn’t, I’d agree.” She teased in return.
“Which is why you’re my favorite blacksmith,” he said, his grin turning impish.
Alicia rolled her eyes. “What did you break?”
Grace remembered Aidan telling her Alicia was a blacksmith but looking at the petite blonde woman, it was hard to imagine she was capable of the hard work. The tip of Alicia’s head barely reached Blake’s shoulder. The only sign she was indeed a blacksmith was her hands, which were scarred and stained black around the fingernails.
“Blake and I own a blacksmith shop.” Alicia clarified for Grace, likely unaware she already knew.
“And she does the best work.” Nate praised.
“Thanks a lot,” Blake said.
“Nate.” Alicia chuckled. “I’ll fix whatever it is you broke. You needn’t flatter me.”
“It’s never stopped him before,” Blake muttered, though there was no menace in his words.
“She’ll look at it tomorrow. For now, let’s go inside. I’m sure Mrs. Wingate made enough cookies to spare us a few. Besides,” Claire added as hollering was heard from the trees, “the children won’t let us have peace for very long.”
Before they could take more than a few steps, the sound of pounding hooves stopped them. As one, they turned and a carriage, smaller than the one Blake and Alicia had arrived in, rolled around the corner.
“It’s Sam!” Alicia cheered.
Her sudden excitement and small leap startled Violet. The baby’s face turned red and she started to wail. While she rocked and cooed, Alicia’s attention was all for the approaching carriage.
As Blake reached for his daughter, Grace asked, “May I?”
There was only a moment’s hesitation but then Alicia passed Violet over. Grace settled the babe into the crook of her arm and instinctively rocked her side to side. Violet’s wails turned to a whimper and before the carriage had come to a complete stop the child was peering up at Grace with intent brown eyes. Everything in Grace went soft.
Dimly, she was aware of the carriage door opening, of people coming out and Alicia’s squeal of delight. There were embraces and hearty handshakes and before long someone stepped in front of her, casting her and Violet in shadow.
Grace knew she was looking at Samantha. Her hair was a shade darker than Alicia’s and her eyes were gold rather than blue, but their size was similar. As was the look Samantha had on her face as she gazed down at Violet.
“Oh, Alicia, she’s perfect,” Samantha cooed. After several minutes, she dragged her eyes to Grace. “Hello, I’m Samantha. The handsome man next to Blake is my husband, Luke.”
Nate grinned, slapped Blake’s back. “Sorry, mate.”
“Don’t be, I didn’t hear her call you handsome either.”
“She doesn’t have to,” he added with a wink toward Samantha, “it’s already a well known fact.”
“Not bloody likely,” Luke argued.
Luke wore an eye patch over his left eye. His blond hair fell over his brow. Around his neck, glinted a handful of gold chains and she saw two pistols poking from his sash. If Grace hadn’t heard the story of how Samantha had been Sam Steele, she’d have assumed it had been Luke. If anyone looked like a pirate, it was he. Yet there was no threat in his gaze when he nodded a greeting to Grace.
“You’re arrival’s been highly anticipated,” Grace said after the remainder of the introductions were made.
Sam’s brows arched. “You’re Irish!”
“I am, yes.”
“Oh, it’s a lovely accent. I wish my voice was as pretty as yours.”
Pleased, Grace looked about. Before last night, she’d never met a single one of them. Yet here she was, standing among this group who, from all accounts, was a family, holding one of their children. She should have felt out of place. Yet she didn’t. She was completely at ease. She may have only met them, but already she felt their acceptance, their friendship. For the first time in her life, she could see herself making a life somewhere other than Ireland.
“May I take her?” Samantha asked. “I haven’t had a chance to meet Violet yet.”
“Oh, of course.” Then, with regret, Grace passed the babe to her aunt.
“Where’s Aidan?” Luke asked.
Samantha’s head snapped up. “I didn’t even think to ask. I was distracted by Violet and I—”
Luke stepped from his place beside the men and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We haven’t been here more than a few minutes, luv.”
“I know, but—”
He silenced her with a kiss that had color flooding Grace’s cheeks. It was the kind of kiss Cale had given her, but he’d done so in private. Aidan was right, she thought as she watched Samantha melt into Luke, they clearly had a love worthy of envy. But then, she’d noticed Nate and Claire and Blake and Alicia also had relationships worth coveting.
And finally, with the eyes of a woman, Grace accepted her parents had had a similar kind of love. Lord, but she’d been wrong about so many things. Her parents’ love, her da’s decision to leave Ireland, and thinking it was better to be alone than married to someone she loved.
“Everyone knows you love him, especially Aidan.” Luke reminded Samantha.
“Sam!”
Aidan had stepped from the trees and the path leading to the estuary and the Revenge. He set Carrack’s cage down and ran toward the gathered group, face beaming. Samantha looked down at Violet, then up at Aidan, her expression torn. Claire stepped forward, took the baby, and whispered to Samantha, “Go see your boy.”
With tears in her eyes, Samantha grabbed her skirts and ran. Aidan whooped as he caught her in his arms and swung her round. They clung to each other, leaned away to look at each other, then clung again. The love between them was palpable. With her emotions already high, Grace wasn’t surprised when her chest tightened and tears pricked her eyes. Luke wasn’t far behind Samantha. Though he didn’t rush her and Aidan’s reunion his love was also as apparent as he wrapped Aidan, who was closer to Cale’s height than Luke’s, into a hearty embrace. Grace knew Samantha and Luke weren’t Aidan’s parents, but clearly the only connection they lacked was one of blood.
Knowing how Samantha had rescued Aidan from slavery, and having come to form a friendship with him, it lifted her heart to see the family he’d found in Samantha and Luke. Aidan could easily have turned bitter, being raised as a slave, but he hadn’t. He’d thrived.
’Twas a humbling realization to know she’d done the opposite.
“Seeing them together always brings a tear to my eye.” Alicia commented.
“Oh, me, too,” Claire agreed.
Grace sniffled, thankful for the scene before her as she could use it as an excuse for her weeping.
“Well, look at that,” Blake said.
It took Grace a moment to recognize the man striding past Aidan, Luke, and Samantha and marching purposefully her way.
“Is that—”
“I don’t—”
“Blimey, it’s Steele.”
Grace couldn’t form a word. Her breath stuck in her lungs while her heart remained lodged in her throat. With a beard, Cale had been alluring, but without it he was striking. The strong lines of his jaw, the intense look in his eyes as he never broke contact with hers, gave him a commanding presence. With each stride he took, Grace’s heart beat faster.
She’d never seen a more handsome man. Her lower belly clutched as she remembered making love to him. As she yearned, just by looking at him, to make love to him again. He was close now; close enough to see the blue of his eyes seemed crisper. There was a small cleft in his chin that his beard had hidden. What would it be like to run her palms over the smooth skin, to feel his cheek against hers?
He was looking at her the way Luke looked at Samantha. Standing in the sunshine, wea
ring new clothes with her hair pinned up and a handsome man’s gaze locked onto her, Grace felt both beautiful and wanted. And nothing like her old self. Thank God.
She also felt freer than she could ever remember. Free of indenture, free of fear, free of the anger and resentment she’d been dragging around since Colin died. ’Twas then that she truly understood her life was hers to do with what she would.
The question, Grace asked herself as Cale approached, was what did she want most?
*
For the past fifteen years, Cale had felt every day of his age. Most days he’d felt even older. But seeing the astonishment on the faces of those around him, watching awareness widen their eyes, he felt like a young man again. Pride filled his chest as he was surrounded and welcomed back. As he was, for the first time in four years, addressed by his name. Blake, Nate, and Luke teased him about looking pretty. Samantha, Alicia, and Claire told him not to listen, that he looked handsome. While he appreciated the kind words, Grace’s opinion was the only one that mattered to him.
She had yet to comment, but he’d seen the shock on her face, then the appreciation. Then the flush he loved so much had risen across her cheeks.
She looked stunning. The cream-colored gown suited her well as did the style, which was modest but fashionable. It took an iron will not to linger on the flesh rising above the bodice. Her hair was scooped up and pinned in a fancy concoction that left her neck bare. Later, he thought as he closed the distance, he’d kiss her neck while slowly releasing the pins.
He took her hand, kissed it until he felt her tremble. “You look lovely.”
She clasped her hands together the moment he released her. “Thank you. And thank you for suggesting Claire take me into Santo Domingo. Sure and I would have hated to meet everyone looking the way I did.”
“You’ve always looked pretty to me,” he said softly.
Her cheeks were the same pale pink as the ribbon at her waist. She wasn’t comfortable with compliments, he realized, when she quickly steered the conversation from her. He’d make a point of doing so more often as he never wanted her to doubt what he saw and felt when he looked at her.
“I didn’t recognize you when you first stepped from the woods.”
“I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the mirror.” Self-consciously he rubbed his palm over his jaw. It was strange to feel the smooth skin, to feel the warmth of the sun on his cheeks after so many years with a beard.
“So this is what Aidan meant when he said you were ‘cleaning’.”
He cut the lad a glance. Aidan, who’d reclaimed the cage and held it loosely at his side, smiled wide.
Cale returned the smile, then chuckled at Aidan’s shock. “It was time for a change,” he said to Grace. He stepped closer, lowered his voice. “I want to talk to you about making a few others.”
Grace’s lips parted on her breath. If they hadn’t been surrounded by family, he’d have taken advantage of her open mouth. Nate stepped over, slapped him soundly on the back.
“There’ll be time for conversation and other things later.” Nate winked at Grace, deepening her flush. “For now, we have casks of rum to fetch and meat to roast.”
“I need a minute.” Cale took Grace’s elbow and led her out of hearing distance. He reached into his sash and pulled out a paper.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A promise. Since I can’t very well carry the plunder around, it’s a note stating the sum you will be given once we’ve had a chance to sort and count it all. Look at it.”
Her hands shook when she unfolded the paper. He wished he knew whether to take it as a good sign or a bad one. She gasped when she saw the figures.
“What? Why?”
“It’s more than enough to see you to Ireland, to ensure you have a good life once you’re there.”
Her head jerked up. “You’re sending me to Ireland?”
He cupped her cheek. “I’m not sending you anywhere. I’m only giving you the means to do what you said you wanted. What you do with it, Grace, is entirely up to you.”
“Cale! We have things to do,” Nate hollered.
“I have to go.” He pulled her close and kissed her. He wasn’t as bold as Luke, but he put enough of his heart into it to warrant a series of whistles from those watching.
“But—”
“Think about it. You can have everything you want now.” He nodded to the paper she held clasped to her chest and hoped he hadn’t just made another of the biggest mistakes of his life.
*
Grace couldn’t keep her mind off Cale, couldn’t keep her nerves calm. He’d shaved, spoken of changes. And then he’d given her the one thing that had sustained her through her indenture and Roche’s abuse, a chance to go home. Was he getting rid of her? She knew he wasn’t trying to buy her as he hadn’t spoken of going with her.
Oh, why had Nate called him away? She couldn’t take the not knowing much longer. Mind and heart tripping over each other, she helped her friends and the maids wipe the hands and faces of the children who’d been called in for something to eat before their afternoon nap.
“Here, take Christopher.” Leaning toward Grace, Alicia handed over a little boy who couldn’t be more than two years old. He looked at her with deep brown eyes, yawned, and tucked his head onto Grace’s shoulder. Moved at the simple trust, Grace spread her hand over his small back and held him tight.
Violet was tucked into the crook of her mother’s arm and Mrs. Davis took the hand of Elizabeth. Alicia’s older two shuffled their feet.
“We’re too old to nap, Mother.”
“Can’t we go outside?”
“You’ll go upstairs and play quietly in another room as you always do when we visit. Besides, you need your energy for later.”
Despite some whining, they did as they were told. Alicia went into Claire’s room to nurse Violet and Mrs. Davis’ niece, who’d been called upon to help for the day, took Helen and Daniel to another room further down the hall. Samantha and Grace followed Claire and Mrs. Davis into the large nursery. Clearly, they had done this before because Grace had never seen a nursery with four cradles and an equal number of beds.
Claire tucked Will in while Mrs. Davis settled Elizabeth and the twins scampered into their beds. Grace eased Christopher into one of the cradles and covered him with a light blanket. She lingered over the small boy, admiring his plump cheeks and the fan of eyelashes fluttering closed.
“You’re very good with children,” Claire whispered. “Have you had much experience with them?”
“The farmer we worked for in Ireland had a handful of children. On rainy days when we couldn’t work the fields, I’d go up to the house and help the missus with them.”
“And by this time next year, you’ll have one of your own.” Claire smiled.
“I can hardly wait.”
Sure and that was true to the bottom of her heart, but so was the fact that she didn’t want to raise her child alone. She wanted what these people had; love, family, happiness. With Cale. But he’d given her the means to go to Ireland. How could she have a family with him if he didn’t love her enough to ask her to stay?
She followed Claire and Samantha from the room, down the stairs, and into the parlor. Carracks’ cage had been set by the window and Grace stood next to it, looking out upon the front yard. Her thoughts were churning. Her whole life had turned around after a few days on Cale’s ship and, while she now knew what she needed to be happy, she feared it might not be possible.
She couldn’t imagine returning to Ireland now; especially without Cale and the life she wanted with him. But he hadn’t offered to accompany her. Her parents were near but, after finally realizing the wrong she’d done them by treating them the way she had, she worried she may have caused irreparable damage. It was entirely possible they’d shun her as she’d done to them.
She’d given her da nothing but cold disdain while they’d toiled in Montserrat. The refusal to forgive him had wo
rn on him and she’d watched him wither before her. He’d lost his son in Ireland and by trying to do what was best he’d lost his daughter as well. Lord, but could he ever forgive her?
“What has you troubled, Grace?”
Realizing she’d been chafing her arms, Grace lowered them then took her place on the sofa next to Claire. Since Alicia had yet to come down from nursing Violet, it was only she, Samantha, and Claire. And as they’d come together for a celebration, she wasn’t about to darken the mood with her regrets.
“’Tis nothing, just thinking.”
Claire angled toward her. “I don’t suppose you were thinking of Cale and how utterly handsome he looks without that awful beard?”
Squawk. “Cale’s handsome. Cale’s handsome.”
Wishing she were better at hiding her feelings, Grace ducked her head, knowing they saw the color flame in her cheeks as surely as she felt it.
“I knew it!” Claire clapped her hands. “I told Nate Cale was different. And the man only had eyes for you this afternoon.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know…”
“I do,” Samantha said from her seat on the sofa across from Grace and Claire’s. “Luke used to look at me that way all the time.”
“Used to?” Claire teased. “The man still looks at you as though you’re the only one in the room, as though he can’t get enough of you.”
Samantha’s smile was one of a satisfied and happy woman. “It still has the same effect, as well.”
Claire clasped Grace’s hand. “I think it’s clear how Cale feels about you.”
Grace wished she were as confident as Claire sounded, but she wasn’t. Cale hadn’t professed his feelings. Sure and he’d promised they needed to talk but if he did indeed feel for her what she felt for him, then why had he given her the means to get as far away from him as possible?
*
Fate didn’t always work the way one hoped. Despite her anxiousness to have her talk with Cale, to learn once and for all what his thoughts were, whenever she saw him throughout the afternoon he had his hands full carrying one thing or another. The anticipation had her pacing and glancing at the clock every other minute. Her nerves must have carried to the nursery because soon the children were skipping down the stairs while those in the cradles let their displeasure be known.
Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance Page 22