Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (45 page)

wife?”“Oui, in name…” Gaston said, “but…” He frowned at

me.
I thought she would discover Agnes’ relationship with
Yvette in good time, and I did not trust her to simply tell her. I
gave Gastona subtle shake ofmyhead.
“Agnes is my wife, now.” I said. “She professes to be
content withthat, and…”
“You have a wife,” she said. “Where is that…” She
obviously thought better of whatever she was going to call
Vivian, but she stillasked, “Did she die ofdrink?”
I looked to Gaston and found him looking at me. We
could not know what the Marquis had told her: presumably he
had not spoken of our trials last year—a thing of which I was
profoundly relieved. We had much to discuss about what Chris
should and should not be told.
I sighed and turned back to Chris—who was watching
us withsuspicion.
“She is dead,” I said. I tried to determine what best to
say on that matter. The simple details were misleading and
misrepresented poor Vivian:or begged questions that led into the
great morass ofthings I did not wishto tellChris.
I sighed. “My father sent men to attack Sarah’s house in
Port Royal; in order to abduct Sarah and me and return us to
England. Inthe chaos ofthat night, Vivianwas shot.” Gastonnodded agreement at mychoice ofwords. Chris frowned as if she knew we lied, but her words
took a different turn. “So you married Agnes after Gaston
decided to be married to me.”
I did not like her choice of words. “
We
decided to do
what was best for the children—allofthem—once we learned of
the girlinFrance.”
She nodded, but frowned anew. She looked to Gaston.
“Youtrulycare about that child?”
“I would not have made my father a fool about your
family’s claim of marriage if not to save her,” he said coldly.
“How is the child?”
Chris looked away. “Ask your father. Whenlast I heard,
she was fine.”
There had been regret in her voice, and I asked, “Did
youwishto raise her?”
She shook her head quickly. “Non, I…You are correct:
I hated her for what she represented. I wanted nothing to do
with her when she was born. And… even if she was not… I do
not wish to raise a child. I do not feel motherhood as a calling.

And…”She met Gaston’s gaze. “I had nothing to do with my

father’s and uncle’s claim about the marriage. I wanted nothing to do with them. I was furious with them. I hate…hated themas muchas I hated the two ofyou.”

Gaston nodded. “We are unfortunate pawns in others’ games ofintrigue.”
“And notions oftraditionand propriety,”I added.
“Oui,” Chris said. She straightened her shoulders and nodded thoughtfully. “So Agnes is your wife now. Good. I suppose she hates me, too.”
“Probably,” I said. “She will definitely be surprised to see you.”
Chris snorted with amusement. “Who else?” She frowned. “Was anyone else harmed—killed—in the attack?” Her concernseemed sincere.

I struggled to choose the correct words again. “Others

I struggled to choose the correct words again. “Others were wounded… And Nickel, oui, youngNickelalso died.”
“I do not remember him,”she said witha little regret.
“He is not worthy of mourning in my opinion. Vivian… Vivianwas happy, though. She was sober and happy.”
“Oh,”Chris said. “That is sad, then.”
There was a knock on the door and we all gave a little start. Hannah asked if Gaston was alone in a manner that said she knew he was not. My matelot asked her to enter, and when Chris appeared alarmed and I raised a curious brow, Gaston merelyshrugged.
“Oh,”Hannahsaid at the sight ofChris.
“This is my cousin, Monsieur Christien Sable,” Gaston said smoothly. “He arrived today from France. He will be living withus.”
Chris regarded the Negro woman whomshe might have recognized, and did not bow. She did thankfully deposit the pistolonthe shelfbehind her.
“This is my nurse, Mademoiselle Crane,” Gaston said of Hannah. I was pleased he remembered to use her new surname.
Chris frowned but gave a short and polite bow that indicated she now understood the womanwas not a slave.
Hannah nodded politely and spoke to Gaston. “Schoen woke. He claims his leghurts. The other one.”
Gaston frowned and began to follow Hannah out the door. He stopped and looked franticallyat us.
“Go,” I said and shooed him out. “We will not kill one another.”

He snorted and left us, his eyes saying in no uncertain

He snorted and left us, his eyes saying in no uncertain terms that it had best be me who walked through the door if there was gunfire.

Chris watched him leave with a mixture of emotions too thicklyblended for me to name.
“Gaston has become the island’s physician,” I said. “It is a position he was trained for by the former physician, Dominic Doucette. This is Doucette’s hospital. Doucette still resides here —with his wife, Madame Yvette Doucette. I will warn you now: Doucette is mad:trulymad, and Madame Doucette is scarred.”I indicated the scar onYvette’s face witha finger across myown.
Chris grimaced withsurprise.
“The Theodores are also here, along with Liam, Rucker and Bones—and Samueland Hannah, who are no longer slaves. Sarah and Striker live at a plantation nearby. Our ship is anchored there. Most ofthe menwe sailwithare there as well.
“We willhave to find a place suitable for a young man to sleep,” I continued. “I know not where: possibly the nursery since the children now sleep in our bedrooms due to our lack of a nursemaid. In any event, your stay at this house will be shortlived. This letter was one of the last things we awaited before sailing.”
She was shakingher head. “Please slow down. This is all happening so fast. For one thing, you are viewing my posing as a manas fait accompli.”
I snorted. “Well, my dear, your other option is to wear a dress; and we will have you properly married to Gaston in the Catholic Church; and then once we settle elsewhere you may

have a bit of land so that you can sit and read books and order

have a bit of land so that you can sit and read books and order the servants around like my sister does. Or you could return to France as the Comtess Montren—for as long as that lasts—and live where youwill.”

She hugged herself with obvious anxiety. “It would be easier if I did not have to do this in front of people who know what I amand will… not understand.”

“I understand,” I said kindly. “I do, truly. It is very hard to live every day being stared at and whispered about—no matter the reason. But Chris, if you are going to live as a man, you will need to grow a pair of balls—at least figuratively. It will be hard. Only you can decide if the challenge is worth the reward—or ifthere is a reward worth achieving. There are other things you can do. I will not judge you if you decide to follow an easier course. I only despised the girl who lied about who she was and what she wanted. And…”

I glanced at the pistol she had moved away from and sighed. “And oui, I know youfellinlove withme.”
Her features hardened for a moment, and then she sighed and nodded. “And I will never have you. You know, actually, it is not you. I do not saythat inpetulance. It is… I have kissed no other…” She shuddered. “What occurred with
him
does not count.”
“Non, it does not.”
She nodded. “How can he be so different? The man standing here was not the demon that attacked me. I do not understand.”
“I once tried to explain about his madness, but you would not listen,” I said, with little spite despite my choice of would not listen,” I said, with little spite despite my choice of

wordsShe sighed. “I willaccept that, then. But how canI know

he willnot…”
“Willyouattempt to seduce himagain?”I snapped. She sucked a long hard breath. “Non, I will not,” she

said carefully without meeting my gaze. “I amnot to blame,” she added.

This fanned my ire. “No more than a child is to blame whenhe is gored after baitinga penned bullfor sport.”
She regarded me withincredulous protest.
“What was your purpose in the stable that day?” I demanded. “Youwere angryat me, non? Youwished to…”
“Oui! I wished to prove he favored women. I wished to seduce himso that propriety would demand we were married. I wished to seduce himto… hurt you. Oui, you are correct!” She looked away. “I deserved it.”
“Non, you did not deserve what he gave. Nor did you deserve to reap a happyharvest ofwhat yousought.”
She sank to the floor and cried.
I was moved to comfort her, but I held myself still. Instead I reached to her withwords:because I did understand.
“Chris, I can only imagine the horror of being forced to carry a life in your belly that was put there through violence. And I know you did not wish for what occurred when you entered that stable. Non, you thought something—if not wonderful—at least pleasant would happen.”
“I wanted you,” she said sadly. “But I have wanted so many things. When I was a little girl, my father and mother told many things. When I was a little girl, my father and mother told me I could have everything I wanted. But then everyday I learned of something else I could not have, because I was a girl. And then I met you, and you should have been a thing I could have had
because
I was a girl. And then even that was taken away. Now I do not know what I want and I amafraid to seek anythingbecause I feelit willsurelybe denied.”
I wished to protest that I was not so very great a prize, but then I knew I should not take it personally. The Fates had seen to cast me into a role in her life. Another actor could have played the part; but I wondered, did I play the role poorly, or had the Gods sought what I did bringto the part?
“Chris,” I said softly, “I say again, there is no glory in a simple life. Oui, if I had loved you as you wished, things would be different, but perhaps the… Gods wish for you to climb a little higher thanyour average love-struck girlcandream.”
She frowned up at me. “ThenTheyare not beingfair.”
“Are Theynot? Are sheep happy? Think ofallthose little ewes in the world: would you truly rather be one and have no ambition?”
“It would be easier and I would be happy.”
“Would it? Would you? I used to think so. I thought that it would be fine indeed to love women and find one and marry her and live as they do in fairy tales. But there are no fairy tales, and the more married men I met, the more misery I saw. Many people are simply not happy in this world, because… they always take a road that leads downhill: and their cart is always pushing them farther and farther, until they reach a valley from which there is no escape, and they find themselves surrounded bythousands ofother couples chained to carts.”
She was frowning at me curiously: she knew nothing of the allegoryofcarts and teams.
I smiled. “Perhaps the easy roads never go anywhere interesting; and some people are never blessed with an interest in the interesting. Pitythem:do not pityyourself.”
“I suppose you are correct.” She shook her head. “I still do not think I willfind another like you.”
“Perhaps not, but perhaps you are meant to find someone better.”
“Bydressinglike a man?”
“Ironically, I think it will afford you the opportunity to meet and come to know more men—as they truly are, and not as the fools theytend to be while courting.”
She snorted. “True. Yet, I do not know if I can live a lie as yousuggest.”
I frowned at that, thinking on lies. “Who are you lying

to?” “Everyone,”she scoffed. “IfI do as yousayI should.”

“Oui, but are you lying to yourself or the Gods, or just other men—and women?”
“I will be pretending to everyone. I will be living as
God
did not intend for me to live. And…”
“Stop,” I said with a smile. “You do not wish to
be
a man, oui? You only wish to act like a man in order to gain what men have. So, unless you believe that
God
desires women to be meek and think about nothing except babies, then you are not quarreling with
God
on the matter, but with men. And if you do believe
God
wishes for women to be meek, yet you feel you should not, then you have already chosen to disregard His

intent.”She sighed and nodded. “I do not believe God wishes

 

for women to be meek. I feel that men wish for women to be

 

meek.”I chuckled. “It has been my experience that most men

need
women to be meek. So, you will pretend to be a man to live as men do, until…You find you wish to do something else. I do not see why you should make excuses and try and escape now. You came halfway around the world…” I realized I was not sure why she had come half way around the world. Was it merelyto know whyGastonhad agreed to be married to her?

“Whydid youcome here?”I asked.

 

Guilt flowed over her face and she looked away quickly. “I came to kill… myhusband.”

My heart thumped painfully and the room swam in my vision for a moment: then it was all I could do to hold the reins and keep myHorse fromkillingher.

She shrugged and glanced up at me, only to appear stricken at what she found on my face. “But I could not,” she said quickly. “I saw him and… you barged in, and I watched you two with the letter and I… He is not the man I came here to kill. He is not that demon. And I was confused—and curious…”

I tried to calm my heart. She could have done it. We were such damn fools. We had become so damn complacent. And we were looking for armies of Church men or my father’s mercenaries, not lone assassins.

“Will, please. I will not harbor any such thought again.” She frowned. “Though I do not know what I will do if I see the demonagain.”

I thought that wonderful: I would have to be worried about shooting her first if Gaston lost himself again. Then I realized I could not easily recall when last he had been solely in the grip of his Horse. It must have been on the ship after my rescue. I gave a huffofwonder. That was a year ago.

“That will not be a problem,” I said dully. “We have not seen
the demon
ina longtime.”
She stood carefully, as if I might jump upon her. “So now what do we do?”
“I do not know. I need to…”I saw the letter inmyhand. “I need to speak with Gaston, and we need to finish this letter. Thenwe willneed to see who is about and prepare them. Stayin here for now. There is water on the sideboard.”I left her without waitingto see ifthat was acceptable.
Gaston was still in the infirmary, sitting on a cot next to an old buccaneer: Schoen. Gaston had amputated the man’s left foot yesterday. It had become gangrenous—without a wound. Schoenappeared drugged and did not look toward me.
My matelot looked up. “Blood is not flowing into his feet. I do not know what I can do for him. The other one willdie ifthis continues.”
“She came here to kill you,” I said flatly in English, “but changed her mind. She really wants to kill your Horse. ThankfullyHe was not available.”
To myamazement, Gastondid not appear surprised; and thenI wondered whyI had been.
“I saw it in her eyes when I first saw her,” he said quietly. “But thenshe did not, and I knew she would not.”
“I stillfeelwe have become complacent. She just walked in. She could have…” I felt the horror of that possibility once again. “But it does not matter. We have the letter and we will be leaving.
Gaston looked at Schoen and sighed. “There are worse things thangettingshot.”
“Aye, but…”
He smiled at me reassuringly and stood. “You know, I am actually pleased she is here now; and that all of this can be discussed. Like the other hurts in our lives, this one is a wound left too longto fester. Now it is draining.”
“Aye, you are correct. One less mystery as well. And there is a sayingabout keepingone’s enemies closer.”
Gastonnodded.
“Shall we finish this letter?” I asked. “And I can tell you allelse that was said.”
He nodded, and we slipped past the closed surgerydoor and into the bright light of the atrium. It was filled with the family as always, though it was late enough for the children to nap. I dearly hoped Chris stayed in the surgery. I had no idea what we would telleveryone yet—or how theywould react.
“I see you holding a letter,” Theodore said and emerged from the library. “Is it the news we have waited for? Or were there others youhave not gottento yet?”
I cursed silently as I recalled there were other letters—in the bundle onthe surgerytable…
“I willget them,”Gastonsaid.
I was gripped by the fear that she might have had a change ofheart. “Non, I will.”
Gaston nodded, but Theodore eyed me with curiosity. I ran around the corner and gave a brief rap on the door before opening it. I found her looking over the letters. Thankfully, none appeared to be open.
“I was not goingto read them,”she quicklyprotested.
I snatched up the book Gaston had been perusing and dropped it on the table in front of her. Then I snatched up the letters and left.
Gastonwas not withTheodore whenI returned. I felt the uglyflood waters ofhysteria risinginmysoul.
“Will, is something wrong?” Theodore asked as I handed himthe letters. “Is that the one we have beenawaiting?”
I looked at the crumpled letter in my hand. “Non, and oui, and… Oui, and I cannot discuss it yet.”
He was concerned and disappointed, but he nodded.
Gaston emerged from the storage room with a wine bottle and a hunk ofcheese.
I nearly snatched the wine fromhis hand as we mounted the stairs. He regarded me with amusement as I took a great swallow before we reached our door.
“I almost lost youtoday,”I said as I closed the door.
His arms closed around me and I reveled in the solidity ofhis embrace. It held me above the hysteria.
“I do not feelI was in danger,” Gaston murmured after a