Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (19 page)

engender our further dislike for Christine.”

 

engender our further dislike for Christine.”

Gaston came to me and wiped a tear off my cheek before acceptingthe letter and beginningto read.
I turned away to let him read in peace and found Theodore regardingme anxiously.
“I will read the letter he wrote to you in a moment,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “I feel very few will be happy no matter what occurs. I amsorry, Will.”
“We must consider the children first,” I said. “They should not suffer for the sins oftheir fathers, as… we have.”
There was movement behind me, and I turned to find my matelot had sunk to the floor with tear-filled eyes. He was still reading, though.
I turned back to Theodore. “Would you leave us alone, please? There is muchwe need to discuss.”
He nodded and clasped my shoulder as he passed. When the door was safely shut behind him, I went to sit beside Gaston and take his hand. He entwined his fingers with mine and squeezed gratefully.
“I envision him crying when reading of the boy here,” Gastonsaid. “I have ruined everything.”
I wrapped an arm about his shoulder and kissed his temple. “He loves youstill.”
He sighed and forced a smile to settle on his mouth. “WhyamI cursed to be adored bypeople withpoor judgment?”
I turned his face to mine and kissed himsweetly. “It is a cross youmust bear.”

“Oui, and I bear it gladly.” He sighed again and pawed

“Oui, and I bear it gladly.” He sighed again and pawed his tears away. “She cannot be allowed to keep the child.”
“I concur,”I said.
“What are we to do?” he asked forlornly and met my gaze. “I amsorry, mylove. I thought the road would be uphillfor a short distance upon coming here; and then it would level out somehow. But it seems I amaskingus to pullstraight up a cliff.”
“Well,” I sighed, “I feel we must lighten the cart.” But I could not see how.
“I do not wish to choose between them. And I feel I am beingasked to choose betweenyouand myfather—where there is no choice—and I resent it.”
“You said we came here for the children,” I prompted himgently.
He nodded earnestly. “Oui, Will, but I am a fool. I do not know what I thought would occur with the one in France if I was not married to Christine. I thought perhaps Christine would simplyleave the babe withmyfather. I hoped she would want no part of it. And according to my father she does not, but if she takes the child with her, that girl’s—
my daughter’s
—childhood willbe as miserable as mine.”
I realized there was an answer: it would cause no end of trouble, but there was ananswer.
“Accept Christine’s claimofmarriage,”I said.
He regarded me with incredulity. “How? Everyone has said it is false. It
is
false.”
“I am thinking…” I was trying to recall who had witnessed his marriage to Agnes. Anyone not there could claim they were misled: that others had lied to them about the they were misled: that others had lied to them about the marriage. But those people who were there—and therefore would purportedly be doing the lying—would include Theodore and Rachel, Sarah and Striker, the Marquis, and of course Agnes—and possibly a dozen or so more of our good friends. Could we convince them all to tell the priest they had lied? It would be unfair, though; even if they would:it would tarnish their names. I was willing to be branded a liar: I had nothing to lose, but…
“We tellthemwe lied—to them,”I said quickly. “That… That you married Christine in secret. And then you realized she was unsuitable; and so you… had the marriage annulled—or tried to. Or… we paid the priest to have it annulled and he agreed. The Catholic fathers might believe a good father of the English Church is a greedy parson with no scruples. And considering what apparently did occur with certain marriage records, theymight wellbe correct.”
I rushed on. “We could take the blame ourselves. We could say none of the others knew. You put Christine out, and we bribed the priest so he would annulthe marriage and perform the ceremony with Agnes for your father’s benefit. And that ceremonywas not evenina church,”I added.
Mymatelot was not regardingme as ifI were mad:and I considered that a good sign. However, he did seemto be aghast at myproposal.
He closed his hanging mouth and asked, “Why would I take her back ifAgnes bore me a son?”
I grasped at straws. “Because of my father’s meddling. Because we cannot win politically. Because… Agnes’ child is Because we cannot win politically. Because… Agnes’ child is not yours. But that would tarnishher reputation.”I sighed.
“Could we sayhe is yours?”he asked.
I grimaced, but there was an odd feeling of inevitability with that solution. “I could marry her, I suppose—if we can find a priest to do it:not that there seems to be anysanctityinthat, or that anyone seems to care.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Oui, this course could save them. The babe in France would be mine by marriage, and Christine would have to leave her in my father’s care if she wished to escape his household. And ifAgnes is married to you she cannot runoffwithmyson. We willhave both.”
“I do not feel Agnes would run off anyway: she has nowhere to go.”
“What if the boy looks like me and could not be mistakenas yours?”he asked.
I was momentarily concerned, but then I laughed. “It will not matter. Everyone we know willknow the truth.”
“If that many know, then someone will surely expose

us.” I shrugged. “What willVerlainand Christine do:say
_they

 

lied? They already know they are lying. We will be giving them what theywant. Whyshould theycross us?”

“Of course,” he said with relief only to quickly frown withworryagain. “But Will, myfather…”
“We lied to him, too. He was as duped by our ruse as the other witnesses. And, truly, I think he knows even now that he is fighting a losing battle to deny Verlain and Vines. We will be givinghima plausible reasonfor his earlier denials.” be givinghima plausible reasonfor his earlier denials.”
“Oui, we will protect his name, but I will have tarnished the family.”
“Mylove, do not be offended, but youalreadyhave.”
He sighed and finally smiled weakly. “True.” He grew quickly sober again. “But Will, he will be very…” He shook his head. “Non, it does not matter. You are correct: we cannot carry the children and my inheritance and everything else up the cliff. I did not…” He met my gaze. “When I thought on the matter these last months, I came to know that I would no more inherit than you will: that it would be too onerous for us. And hearing Theodore today confirmed it. But I still wish to hurt my father as little as possible.”
I found his words did not fill me with relief as they once would have, but with validation that my love and trust had been so wellplaced.
I kissed him. “I am sorry you must surrender it—or disappoint him.”And I trulywas.
He shook his head. “I am not. And I know I must. It is just that when I am confronted with my father’s feelings on the matter, I still wish so much to please him. But I cannot; and someday he will hopefully forgive me. The name Sable will die with me. I swear by my love for you that I will never get an heir onChristine.”
“Perhaps she will meet with some misfortune,” I said withaninnocent shrug. “And leave youfree to marryagain.”
“Youwould killher?”he asked seriously.
I considered it. “Non, I would not wish to; and I cannot conceive ofdoing it in cold blood; but… I feelno guilt in praying the Gods willassist us insome manner.”
He sighed and sat studying the floor for a thoughtful time before gazingup at me with proud eyes and a happy smile. “You are a genius.”
“Ofdeceit,”I agreed sadly.
I retrieved the letter Gaston’s father sent Theodore and read it. It was a proper missive froma lord to a trusted servant. The Marquis mentioned none of his personal concerns or thoughts upon the matters at hand, but he did speak frankly about how politically untenable his position was in defending the marriage with Agnes. He instructed Theodore to maintain that Gaston was the Comte de Montren and Agnes was Gaston’s legal wife at all times, and to insure that all others of our acquaintance did the same—including us when we were found. And he very much wanted us found. I felt he thought the matter could only be defended by Gaston—much as Father Pierre apparentlythought.
“It is much like the other,” I said; “only to Theodore and

not us.”Mymatelot had beenlost inhis thoughts while I read. He

 

nodded absentlyas I handed himthe pages. “I would have us tell Agnes and Theodore first,”he said.

I nodded. “If there is time, I intend to tell everyone here before we tellthe priests.”
Gaston frowned. “But Will, they cannot all act. Their outrage willnot be believable.”
I grinned. “You are viewing it wrongly and worrying needlessly again, my love,” I assured him. “It does not matter. Like all truly great lies, this one need not engender belief, only doubt—and this one, not eventhat. Everyone involved willknow it is a lie. It will only be useful for those who know little of the true situation.”
He shook his head. His face was full of doubt—and a ruefulsmile.
I sobered. “There are those that will be angry, but I do not feel it will be because we lied to them—they will know we have not—or rather they should know we have not. Non, there will be those who will be angry because we are pretending to

lie.” “Those who take the vows of matrimony seriously,” he said. It was myturnto frown. “Do you? I mean… Do youfeel

 

we willbe committinga sinagainst the Gods or our fellow manin this? Does it trouble youinthat manner?”

“Non… and oui,” he said thoughtfully, and met my gaze again. “I cannot place her above all others—that is your place; yet, I feelI did vow—to her—that she was my wife and I would care for her and take no other woman.”

I gave his objection serious consideration, and found it lacking in context though it was very true in spirit. “You will care for her for the rest of her days. We will protect and honor her and do as we can to see she lacks for nothing: whether she is called your wife or mine – or neither. And you will take no other womanbefore her,”I teased witha reassuringgrin.

He considered that and at last smiled. “Oui, that is correct. I willbed no other woman. That vow I make to you.”

I was taken aback. “Thank you, my love; but I will not hold youto it ifyouwishto have more children.”
He awarded me a stubborn smile. “I will hold myself to it. And why would I want more? The three we have will surely cause enough trouble. Though, if the opportunity presents itself, perhaps you should have some. I think I would like a little Will runningaround withthe little Gaston.”
I found the thought strange and wondrous, and I was gripped by the notion of how fine it would have been to grow up raised by men accepting of me. But then a stranger thought occurred, and I chuckled. “What if they fall in love with one

another?”He was stunned:his face contortingwithprotest.

“Theywould not be related,”I said quickly.
“Theywould ifyoufather one onAgnes!”
“True, true,” I had not considered that. I suppose she

would be the logical choice. The argument that if there was another dam involved it would be acceptable was on the tip of my tongue – and then I remembered his sister and I blanched. “Non,” I said firmly. “Any children we have will be raised as siblings—as if we were a single father, no matter whom their mother might be. Jamaica willevenbe raised thusly.”

He gave a brief huff of a sigh and awarded me a contrite grin. “I amsorry, I am…”
I stopped his words with a light kiss. “I know. We are pulling up a steep hill and I should not be tossing gravel about. I amsorry. I just… Well, I thought of how it was between Shane and me when we were young: before he learned it was wrong. I thought of how I have often wondered what would have happened if you and I had met as youths. And I was overcome with how fine it would have been to be raised by men who knew love and accepted it. I did not think how it might trouble you. And, as usual, I never think ofbeddingAgnes…”
He smiled and returned my kiss. “Our boys can bed Striker and Pete’s,”he said.
I laughed. “And the girls?”
He appeared appalled, and then thoughtful. “I truly do not wishto think ofthat at all,”he said.
I laughed harder. “Throughout history, it has been the night terror offathers the world over.”
He smiled. “Non, you have been the night terror of

fathers.”“Oui, that I have.” And then the humor fled as I truly

thought on it. “Oui,” I sighed. “I would not want any daughter of ours to ever runafoulofa mansuchas I was.”
“Or sons?”he teased.
I did not find it funny: I thought of Thorp; and the breath became stuck inmythroat. I was surprised at myreaction.
Gaston was concerned. He pulled my gaze to his with gentle fingers on my jaw. There was great regard in his eyes. “Youare no longer that man,”he whispered.
I sighed. “And you are no longer a confused and naïve

boy.” He took a long breath and held it before nodding with a

 

small smile. “Let us not create men like we were.” He nodded again to himself. “That is what we are about this day, preventing

 

that.”

that.” “Oui,” I said. “It does not matter how angry our friends
become, as long as we win the children in the end. So feel no
guilt over the matter. Our end justifies our means.”
I felt the Gods would forgive us – even if none of our
friends or familyever did.

Ninety Wherein We Take The High Road

We emerged from the surgery to find the ward room empty except for the patients. We crept to the doorway to the atrium and peered into the light. The airy space was filled with people we knew and loved.

Theodore was sitting at a table with a bottle of wine. He saw us in the doorway, but other than a brief smile, he made no note ofour presence before lookingaway.

My former tutor, Rucker, sat on a bench under the upper-floor balcony, reading. He always appeared small to me when I first beheld him after an absence. My memories of him seemed locked ina boy’s perspective.

Liam sat with Bones at a table near Theodore. They were cleaning muskets and discussing something with smiles and laughter. They appeared a little fatter than when I last saw them. They were also wearing linen shirts instead of canvas buccaneer tunics. This life appeared to suit them.

I wondered if Liam could be talked into cleaning our

 

weapons.Alarger table in the center of the space was surrounded

by women and babes. Madame Doucette was helping Hannah and another negress fold a pile of baby swaddling rags. Yvette Doucette looked much as she had before: a lithe body, with hair more auburn than mahogany in the bright afternoon light. She was lovely until one saw the scar marring the right side of her face from temple to twisted lip—and even then she had a smile that lit her green eyes and drew your gaze away from her misfortune.