Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (24 page)

“ComeWithMeAn’SeeYurSister,” he commanded. “BothO’Ya.”
He took my arm and began towing me to the door. I glanced at Gaston and found him following with a concerned frown; but as he was doing nothing to stop Pete, I assumed he had seenwhat I had inthe GoldenOne’s demeanor.
I waved goodbye to the others. Theodore awarded me a tight, resolute nod that seemed to indicate he was pleased we were onthis errand, but he knew it would be unpleasant.
Pete snatched the lantern from outside the ward door, and once we were in the street, released me and began to walk up the hill with great purpose and speed. I hurried to catch up withhimwithGastoninour wake.
“What is amiss?” I asked quietly once we were on the outskirts ofCayonne.
Pete snorted loudly. “WhatAin’t?”
“Is mysister well?”
“SheBeWellEnuff. SheBeWithChild,” he said with resignation.
“Are allpleased about that?”
“TheyBeRightDelighted! SoTheySay. IBe… ItBeLikeAllElse.”
“How so? How is allelse?”
He stopped and turned to roar at me. “ItStinks! That’s’OwItBe!”
I did not flinch now that I knew his rancor was not specificallydirected at me.
Gaston caught up with us. He laid a gentle hand on Pete’s shoulder. “What is wrong, Pete?”
Pete shook him off and regarded us with exasperation that spoke volumes ofhis mood but nothingofits cause.
“Striker?”I prompted to give himpurchase onsomething inthe morass I sensed himdrowningin.
This elicited a roar of frustration and sadness suitable to the great lion to which I had ever likened him. He turned away and wandered around like a lost child for a moment before stomping to the side of the road and sitting on a felled tree, placingthe lanterncarefullyonthe trunk beside him.
We exchanged a glance of concern and ambled over to join him: our lack of alacrity driven more by respect for his duress thantrepidation.
He looked up at us when we stood before him. “INa’BeReadyTaLayDownAn’Die.”
“But Striker is?”I asked kindly.
He began to nod his head, and decided to shake it instead; and it ended up bobbling about on his neck as if he did not know how to hold it. I noted that his hair was long and unkempt: six months’ worth of shaggy golden mane. Yet, oddly, he was clean-shaven—a thinghe rarelydid.
“What the Devilhas happened here, Pete?”I asked.
He sighed. “ItNa’JustBeHere. ItJustBeBein’HereAn’Na’Knowin’…” Then the wind of anger hit his sails again. “’E’sNeverBeenHappy. Never! Na’Unless’EBeDrunkOrAtSea. We’AdItGood. We’veAlways’AdItDamn Good. ’EAlwaysBeGoodWithTheMoney,
An’SmartAboutWhoWeBeSailin’ With. But’EWereAlwaysLookin’AtTheHorizon.
Nuthin’WereGoodEnuff! AnThingsTheyBeChangin’. An’’ENa’BeHappyAboutThat.
YetTheWayItWasWereNoBetterIn’IsEyes.
“An’ThenYaCome. ThatBeAThing’EAlways An’Then’EWantsAWife. An’Then’EWantsABabe. But’EStillNa’BeHappy.
“’EWantsTaSail But’EBe AfraidO’Sailin’WithTheOthers. ’EDoesNa’ WantTa LeaveSarahAlone. ’EBeThinkin’The BabyDieIffn’’EDoes. But’EDoes Na’WantTa BeAPlanterEither. So’EDrinks. All’EDoesIsDrink An’Whine. SixBloodyFuckin’ MonthsO’RumAn’Whinin’!
“SomeDaysIDreamO’Just Hittin’’Im’Til’IsHeadClears!”
He slumped and buried his face inhis hands.
“I amsorrywe abandoned you,”I said.
He snorted and glared up at me. “YaDamnWellShouldBe. YaBeThe OnlyTwoICanTellO’It.”
There was the trace of humor in his tone and I smiled. “Well, the next time we disappear to tend to our madness, perhaps youshould accompanyus.”
He sighed and thenpointed at Gastonand chuckled.
I found mymatelot grimacingwithconsternation.
“YurManNa’’AveThat,” Pete said with continued amusement.
“You are a good friend,” Gaston said, “but I view such times as private.”
“Aye, YaBeFuckin’An’Cooin’ AtOneAnotherDayAn’Night.”
“Aye,” I admitted. “And a third man would be

An’WeGetOurOwnShip. BeWantin’. An’We’AveIt. An’IGive’ImThat. awkward.”
“Aye!”Pete was grinningat Gaston. “Iffn’ItWereMe.”

“What is this about? Other than your changing the subject,”I chided Pete.
He chuckled.
“Tellhim,”Gastonsaid witha note ofchallenge.
Pete sobered and seemed to reconsider his teasing. He finally sighed and met my gaze. “ITol’Gaston—WhileDrunk— An’Fightin’WithStriker—ThatIShoulda’Takin’Up
WithAManLikeYou. OneThatFavorsMen.”
“Nay,” Gaston said with no humor. “That is not what yousaid.”
Pete’s face crinkled with a grimace of self-deprecation and embarrassment as he looked awaywhile scratchinghis head. “ISaidThatIffn’Ya Weren’tWithGaston, An’IWeren’tWithStriker, IWouldBeCourtin’Ya.”
I was surprised to say the least, and my cock stirred at the mere thought of lying beneath Pete: a thing I immediately squashed with all the guilt I had ever felt when thinking that very thinginthe years I had knownhim.
To distract myself—and avoid Pete’s suddenly knowing gaze—I looked to mymatelot. “And youchose to never mention this?”
“Is it a thing you would wish to know?” he countered withjealousyI had not seenfromhimina verylongtime.
I held his gaze and chuckled until he looked away with a sheepishsmile.

“He was drunk,” Gaston said, as if that alone could explainhis omission.
I understood, and I felt no need to press himonit.
I turned back to Pete. “I amflattered. Truly.”
Pete made a long disparaging noise like a disgruntled horse. “SpareMe. INa’BeSmartEnuffFerYa.”
I cringed in my heart but kept it frommy face. It was not true, yet… “Nay, Pete. You are one of the wisest men I have ever had the pleasure…”
“ShutIt,” he said good naturedly. “IKnowWhatIBe. An’INa’BeSmart AboutTheCooin’An’Talkin’.”
I smiled. “Aye,” I admitted. “And once again your innate wisdom makes you far smarter than the sum of any formal educationyouwere denied bythe circumstances ofyour youth.”
He snorted. “YaBeRight. An’ICouldLearn. ILearntEnuffJustBein’ Aroun’ YaTheseYearsTa UnderstandWhatThe DevilYaBeSayin’WhenYa GetAnxiousAn StartUsin’CourtlyEnglish.”
It was my turn to sigh with good humor as my matelot

Striker? What willyoudo? How is mysister withhis drinking?” He considered his answer. “SheSeemsTaExpectIt.
SheWillNa’Talk TaMeO’It, Though. SheBeActin’Lik eTharBe
Nuthin’WrongEvenWhenI
Drag’ImHomeAn’Dump’ImInTheSpare RoomNearEveryNight.
SheJust SitsAboutReadin’ BooksAnOrderin’The
ServantsAroun’.”
I beganto consider her behavior odd, and thenI realized I beganto consider her behavior odd, and thenI realized
it was not. That was how she had spent most of her life in
England.
“SheDotesOnLittlePikeAGoodlyAmount.
An’SheLikesTalkin’TaTheBardAn’Cudro’BoutBusiness,” Pete
added as if he were having to put thought into thinking about
anythingshe did other thanwhat he had first mentioned. “It sounds as if Striker and she have a fine noble English
marriage,”I said sadly.
“ThatBeTheWayO’It?” Pete asked.
“AlwaysWondered’OwTheRichLived.”
“Well, now you know,” I sighed. “If you substitute his
relationship with you for the usual mistress a man of his station
would have.”I winced.
Pete shrugged. “ItBeAsYaSayTheseDays.
When’E’sDeepInThe Rum’EsGotNoInterest. For’ErOrMe.
Aye, ICould’Ave’Im, ButINa’Want’ImTheWay ’E’sBeen.” He
shrugged againwithfeigned nonchalance.
I sighed. “It sounds as if we should get him back to sea
and dryhimout.”
Pete shook his head sadly. “ThatBeenDiscussed.
’EWon’tGo. Cudro EvenTalkedTaSarahAboutIt.
SheDon’tWant’ImTaGo.”
I cursed quietly. “Wellshe needs to understand…” Then
I understood how veryafraid and alone she must be. I sighed yet
again.
Pete echoed it. “IBeThinkin’ItBeTimeTaMoveOn.” I was struck by the resignation in his tone; and by the
irony that they had once been the standard I had wished to irony that they had once been the standard I had wished to
achieve withGaston. How little I had knownthen.
“ICouldNa’ BringMyselfTaGo
RoveWithout’ImThisYear,” Pete continued forlornly,
“ButNextINa’BeWaitin’.” He shook his head and met my gaze.
“’ESaysWeCanna’Live LikeBoysNoMore. LikeWeDid
WhenWeBeYounger. ThatWe’llDie JustLikeOtter
An’AllTheOthers Iffn’WeKeepRovin’. ButI BeThinkin’I
WouldRatherDieThat WayThanBeAPlanter, OrAMerchant,
OrJustDrownInRum. ICanna’SeeMeLivin’ThatWay.” “Aye,” I whispered. I could not see it either. Men like
Pete, great lions ofmen, were not meant to be caged. “I do not know,”Gastonsaid oddly. “I do not feelit is…
growing up, perhaps. I feelit is finding peace. But I have peace I
can find as a physician. And I do feel I—we—must care for the
childrenwe are responsible for.”
“ThatBeWhyAManShouldStay
ClearO’TheSquishyHole,” Pete chided, but there was little edge
to it.
“I have onlytrulyattempted to envisiongrowingold at all
since I met Gaston,” I said. “And now, it is a thing I find wonder
in,” I said with a touch of surprise as it occurred to me how very
much I did not think ofsuch things. I thought ofmy Horse feeling
caged in the hospital… “I always thought I would die in some
duel or… I know not. In some manner, I thought I would die
youngand never have to face learninghow to age gracefully.” Pete snorted and gave anunderstandingnod. Gastonwas regardingme withconcern.
I met his gaze with reassurance. “I will learn how—with I met his gaze with reassurance. “I will learn how—with
you—unless you take to drinking excessive amounts of rumand
whining.”
Pete laughed and Gaston smiled. There was the shadow
ofconcerninmymatelot’s eyes, though.
“’EEverDoesThat, YaComeWithMe,” Pete said and
leaned over to give me a gentle kiss onthe cheek.
For one Devil-begotten moment, I yearned to turn my
head and meet his lips and learn what promise lied there; but that
was not what I had chosen, and I had profound faith I had
chosenwell.
“SoWhenWeBeGoin’TaEngland?” Pete asked.
“OrWillYaBeGoin’Ta FranceFirst? IWillNa’GoThereTaLive.
ButIWillDoWhateverYaNeedO’ MeTaSeeTaTheOther.” Gastonand I exchanged a startled glance.
“I do not know,” I said. “And there is much we must tell
you.”
“StartTalkin’,” Pete said as he stood.
“ItBeAWaysTaTheHouse. Les’ YaBeThinkin’ThisBe
AThingWeMustSitFer.”
I chuckled. “You might find it necessary to sit, but
Gastonand I are quite beyond surprise over the matter.” And so we walked to Sarah’s and I told him of the
babes and our lie. He cursed loudly at our predicament and
louder at our solution. Then he chased Gaston about the road to
cuff his head and reiterate his comment about the squishy hole.
Mymatelot bore it withgood humor.
“SoWhatAboutYurFather?”Pete asked as we turned off
the smallroad toward distant lights I assumed to be a house. “I do not know,” I said. “We must plan; but first, I
would have the other matters settled, and perhaps see what he
will do. England is his fortress, and rushing there will not be to
our advantage. I could disguise myself and sail to France and
then to England under another name to avoid those he surely has
watching the ports—as I amsure he fears my coming. And once
there make my way to his home and shoot or gut him; but they
will know, and even if I hide in France or here they will seek me
out to hang me for it. I willbe hiding and running forever. And all
who know me will be in peril. My father’s mercenaries were
dangerous and cruel: they would be as bully boys compared to
the King’s. And that is whose ire we willgainifI killa lord. “Even if some other were to do it without my
involvement, the other lords and the king would blame me if my
father has been at all honest to anyone about the depth of our
discord. And we do not know what has beensaid or is knownin
Charles’ court, or even my father’s household. Even if all of
England knows—as all of Jamaica surely does—it might be
possible to killhimwithout being suspected, but I feelI willneed
to employsubterfuge ofthe highest order.”
And I truly did not have the heart for it—despite
everything.
“NeedSpies,”Pete said.
“Aye,”I sighed.
“We will have to see if my father can help yet on that
front,”Gastonsaid. “Ifhe willstillspeak to us,”he added sadly. I looked to my matelot where he hovered at the other
side of the circle of lantern light. “I feel he has forgiven you
worse.”
Gastonsighed and nodded resolutely. “Oui.” We were in sight of a long, low house sitting on the
shoulder of the hill. I could smell the sea beyond the dense
forest, but it was now too dark to see anything Pete’s lantern or
the house lights did not show.
A sailor I recognized from the
Queen
and a Negro
nodded greeting and returned to their card game once we
walked up the steps to the porch. The sailor’s gaze was
speculative and I wished to escape it. Pete thankfully led us
throughthe front door without delay.
We found Sarah in the sitting room, reading with a
thoughtful expression, curled in a chair like a young girl. Her
bulging belly was evident, but not as huge as it had been when
last I saw her pregnant and the birthimminent.
She was startled to see Pete, and then Gaston and I
stepped into the room. At first her face held delight, and then she
must have remembered she was angrywithme, and mymother’s
pinched look ofdisapprovaltightened her features.
“You have returned,” she said with a voice as taut as her
face. Her gaze was locked uponme.
Pete threw himself on the couch, and Gaston lowered
himself slowly into a chair as if she might startle. I continued to
stand before her as ifshe were a judge or queen.
“We rowed across the channel… today.” I supposed it
was today:it seemed eons ago. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Mistress?”a Negress queried fromthe doorway. “We have guests, Marabelle,” Sarah said. She glanced
at Gaston and Pete. “Lord Montren, Pete, would you like
somethingto drink?”
Gaston appeared uncomfortable, and Pete rolled his
eyes at her; which she acknowledged with a tightening of her

Sarahsnorted and waved the womanoffto fetchit. “Whyare youhere?”she asked me.
“Pete insisted, and… I wish to apologize for the

circumstances of our parting,” I said sincerely. “I did not wish to hurt you. I just felt you were the only thing of value I could hold Pete offwith.”

He snorted withamusement.
She was not amused.
“I amsorry,”I said.
“But youwere
mad
,”she said witha witheringtone. I sighed. I did not wish to fight with her, but I was