A Lady at Last. Brenda Joyce

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СКАЧАТЬ puppet on someone’s string, she turned to stare at him again.

      Neither he nor his son was exchanging words, but the boy was clearly engrossed in steering the ship. He seemed so little in the shadow of his father’s powerful body. She grew sad reminded of how Papa had helped her at the helm when she was so small she’d had to be in his arms in order to grasp the wheel. Then her gaze veered to his daughter, who was seated not far from them, appearing every inch the princess that she probably was in her fine, lacy white dress, a book open on her lap. Her father had given her a velvet pillow to sit on, so she wouldn’t dirty her frilly drawers. She was pretty and pampered and clearly didn’t give a hoot about sailing, for she hadn’t looked up once.

      Amanda couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be that rich little girl. But the child could read—and she was only six.

      Amanda felt her cheeks warm. She wished she hadn’t admitted to de Warenne that she was illiterate. Did he think her stupid? It had taken her one instant to realize that he adored his fairy princess daughter and was absolutely proud of her. They’d all taken a cutter from the docks below Windsong out to the ship. Ariella had sat in her father’s lap, clutching a book as they were rowed out to the frigate. Her brother had argued with her, telling her the book should have been packed in her bags. Ariella had shot right back at him that he was an idiot, as he could barely read Latin. De Warenne had ended the argument, telling his son that Ariella could bring as many books as she wished and he had better be reading Latin by the time the voyage was done. Through it all, the Armenian servant had been silent.

      De Warenne had looked at Amanda, smiling. “My daughter reads better than many grown men.” He’d turned to the child. “What are you reading now, darling?”

      “The history of the Pharoahs, Papa.”

      Amanda didn’t even know what a fa-ro was.

      She was jealous of his daughter, when she owed de Warenne nothing but gratitude. She also wished she had been invited onto the quarterdeck, as his children had, but she had not. She had no reason to speak with de Warenne, so she had no excuse to go over and ask for permission to go up on the deck considered sacred by every sailor and ship’s officer. Maybe he’d invite her to join him there before the voyage was out.

      Probably not.

      Oddly, she thought of the beautiful cotton-and-lace nightgown. He hadn’t taken it back. It was in her small sack with her father’s cross and chain and her pistol. Her dagger was in her left boot on the inside of her calf and her sword was beneath the pillow on her berth.

      “Papa? I don’t feel well,” Ariella said suddenly.

      Amanda turned to see the little girl standing, holding her history book. She had that peculiar look which Amanda instantly recognized. The child was sea sick.

      “Can I go below and lie down with Anahid?” she asked.

      “That is the worst thing you can do.” De Warenne glanced behind him. His gaze slid over Amanda and he seemed to hesitate.

      She thought she knew what he wanted, and because she so wanted to repay him for her passage, she jumped forward. Why couldn’t she help with the children? She didn’t know anything about children, but she owed de Warenne and how hard could it be? “De Warenne? I’ll walk her about the deck.”

      His gaze softened. “Would you mind, Miss Carre? I believe Anahid is belowdecks arranging the children’s cabins.”

      Amanda smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t let her fall overboard.”

      He started.

      She laughed. “That was a jest, de Warenne!”

      “It wasn’t amusing,” he said, unsmiling.

      She bit her lip. He was so serious when it came to his daughter! The little princess probably wept buckets when he hit her. She sighed and held out her hand. “Come with me.”

      Ariella smiled at her, extending her free hand while clutching the book with her other one. Amanda helped her down the three steps to the main deck. “You’ll feel better in a few days, once you get your sea legs,” she told her.

      “Really?” Ariella smiled, then turned green.

      Amanda dragged her over to the railing just in time, for the child threw up. She sat with her until she was through, then realized Ariella was very close to crying. She was disgusted. The child was a milksop.

      De Warenne lifted her into his arms, having materialized behind them. “You will feel better in a few days,” he said. “That is a promise.”

      Ariella fought tears. “I’m fine, Papa. Put me down.”

      “Are you certain?” he asked.

      She nodded. “I want to walk with Miss Carre. I’m better now, really.” She managed a small smile.

      He slid her to the deck and Ariella took Amanda’s hand. Amanda felt like an outsider, her jealousy of the little girl escalating until de Warenne turned his gaze upon her. “Thank you for being so kind to my daughter,’ he said, his blue eyes sweeping over her face.

      It felt like a silken caress. Amanda couldn’t smile back and she couldn’t move but she knew that if she wanted him to like her, all she had to do was be good to his children. And she wanted him to like her, very badly in fact.

      She wet her lips and tried to smile. “She’ll get her sea legs soon. After all, she’s your daughter.”

      He gave her a look that said he didn’t quite think Ariella would adjust well to the sea and then he returned to the quarterdeck. Amanda stared after him. How did he keep his clothes so clean, she wondered. He smelled more strongly of the sea than ever, but he still smelled of mango and Far Eastern spices.

      “You like Papa.”

      Amanda jerked. She tugged the girl down the deck and out of earshot. “De Warenne has been good to me and he is taking me to my mother.”

      “I know. He told us. She’s in England.” Ariella’s eyes were searching, and far too curious for a child of six.

      “She’s a great lady,” Amanda bragged. “Terribly beautiful and she lives in a big fancy house with a rose garden.”

      “Really?” Ariella thought about that. “Was your papa really a pirate?” she asked seriously as they strolled hand in hand down the deck.

      Amanda hesitated. Then she decided there was no way she was going to admit to the truth. “He was falsely accused and falsely hanged,” she lied. “He was a planter and a real gentleman. But,” she added, veering to some of the truth, “a long time ago he was an officer in the British navy.”

      Ariella was quiet and Amanda knew she was thinking intensely. What a strange girl! Then the child said, “Why aren’t you happy to be going to see your mama? Is it because your papa is dead?”

      Amanda stopped in her tracks. She was about to cut the child, but then she saw de Warenne watching them from the quarterdeck. She forced a smile. “I am very happy to be going to see my mother. I haven’t seen her since I was even younger than you.” But her insides curdled as she spoke. If only she could believe that Mama would be overjoyed to see her.

      “Really?” СКАЧАТЬ