The Merman and the Barbarian Pirate (21 page)

Jon was nearly upon him. Raef fought another temptation—to grab and grope those sturdy legs in some pretense of aid.

Jon alighted and stared at him. "How do you do, Raef?"

Raef had expected Jon to be entranced by the treasure chest rather than him. The undiluted attention unsettled him. "Very well, thank you," he said, twitching his tail. "Let me show you the chest."

They examined the contents together. Raef showed Jon a slip of paper stamped with a red wax seal, which he'd discovered folded in the registry book. "It's a codicil to Lord Henry Haverford's will," said Jon, scanning it swiftly. "Henry must have slipped it to Cara with the book. It proves he wished his whole fortune to pass to Cara and her child. This is good. But it still might not be enough to clinch the deal."

"What do you mean?"

Jon folded the paper, knitting his brows in thought. "I mean that we're only halfway to getting Cecilia's property back for her. If it's her word against Haverford's, the documents will never even be seen by the high-and-mighties that matter. We need some powerful allies."

Raef hissed, worried. "Who would ally with a penniless girl against a lord?"

"You'd be surprised. For a start, we'll send the codicil to Sir Edward Humphrey." Jon tucked the paper inside his jacket, and Raef recalled the elderly gent who'd protested when Haverford shut him in a chest. "Humphrey's a rum cull, but he's kind to his tenants and as honest as a rich nob can be. He'll sympathize with Cecilia's plight and act in the interests of honor and the truth. Meanwhile, I think we should pay a visit to Edith."

Raef's tail stiffened with shock. "Confront a possible murderess? Are you mad?"

"Probably." Jon winked. "But getting her to confess to the forgery of the marriage register might seal everything."

"Why on earth would she do that?" And Raef was supposed to be the insane one. This scheme was cracked, though Jon was chuckling, obviously pleased with himself.

"I reckon Edith might be open to bribery, seeing as her son is so difficult to love when you get to know him." Raef rolled his eyes self-depreciatingly. He couldn't deny
that
. "Even if it doesn't work, it'll be hilarious sport watching her face when we confront her with the truth. Anyhow, I've escaped Newgate Jail and the Bastille in my time, let alone Lilhaven lockup. We can escape the clutches of an elderly lady, don't you think?"

"We?" The wind ruffled the foliage around the mouth of the cave, and a draft swirled between them. "You don't need me. You've got your crew."

"You and I started this quest together, so let's finish it." Jon squeezed Raef's arm, and Raef barely resisted rolling his eyes again. Jon was just saying that to be kind. He wished Jon wouldn't. "You'll need legs, though."

And with legs come those parts that'll get hugely overexcited at being close to you again.

"Will you meet me at Cecilia's cottage back in Lilhaven tonight?" asked Jon. "I'll leave some dry clothes under a pile of rocks on the beach for you.
X
will mark the spot."

"Maybe," replied Raef, not missing the irony. The
X
in the book of love poems, so it seemed, marked nothing.

Jon grinned at him, seemingly satisfied. He lifted the book, tucked it under one arm, then rose to grip the rope and tug it."Peffy! Victor!" he called. "Haul me up."

The rope elevated him toward the light. Watching him rise, Raef sensed Jon knew as well as he that he'd be there to see this adventure through. To laugh in the face of danger together one more time. He wouldn't miss it for all the riches in the world. But maybe Jon also believed that he would hang around after that, following him like a lovesick pup. There Jon was wrong, because Raef had learned much in this past week. He could endure and he could survive, and now he had a summoning shell.  If he whispered the right plea to the conch beforehand, one blow could call other lone mer in the hope of forming a new tribe, mayhap a new family.

Raef hoped he had become wiser. And when this adventure was over, the wise choice would be to use the conch for that end.

Thirteen

A pregnant stillness hung over the village of Lilhaven that night. The lights of The Bosun's Locker glowed dimly, and no music wafted from inside. Raef suspected a patrol of dragoons were anticipated at any moment, though a faint hum of voices raised an aura of expectation, which seemed sharpest at the village's farthest flung edge. The door of Cecilia's cottage hung open, and the company spilled onto the narrow quayside.

Raef, human and clothed again, pulled himself up from the cobbles onto the wharf. He approached the cottage, the golden conch safe in his pocket. Outside, a gaggle of women were examining a fishnet and loudly discussing a hole in it. One of them was on her knees, removing some stone weights from the pockets. The women eyed him as he approached. Raef suspected they were on watch, positioned to distract any passing dragoon from the truth—there were outlaws in the end house, including Jon.

The women didn't challenge him, so he surmised they had been briefed to expect somebody of his description. Among them was Sarah, the girl who had given him the whelks that he'd ended up dumping on the doorstep. When he drew close, she offered a bashful smile. Recalling the night of his capture, he wondered how she'd known Jon would come for him.

He greeted her, equally shy. "Miss, may I ask you something? How did you guess that… he…" Raef inclined his head in the direction of the cottage. "That
he
would rescue me. You hardly knew me." Let alone that he meant anything to Jon.

"You must hardly know Jon Kemp," she answered. "He's the best of men. He saved our lives the very first time he came here, and he always helps us. When my father was dying in July, relieving his pain was beyond even Cecilia's talents. But Captain Kemp sailed to Spain and back to fetch some herbs to ease my poor pa, and we didn't even ask. So when you were captured trying to help him, I knew he'd save you just as soon as he'd saved himself. He's an honorable man, apart from maybe—"

"Make yourself useful and hold this, boy," snapped an elderly matron. She pressed a corner of the net onto Raef so she could untangle some broken threads. Raef did as he was bid, though kept all his attention on Sarah, searching her elfin face.

"Apart from what?" he pursued. His mind was boggling. The dreaded Pirate Kemp. Honorable? Having got to know Jon, nothing Sarah had just told him about Jon came as a surprise. However, it did run contrary to how Jon liked to represent himself, as humiliating the rich for larks. Helping the sick didn't sound like jolly sport. It sounded like kindness for kindness's sake.

"Oh, it's silly," muttered Sarah, her mouth tightening. "When he heard Cecilia's story, he vowed to help her. I know it's just because it's the right thing to do, and Cecilia would make a splendid mistress. She's generous and sweet, and she lives to help others, but… but…"

"You think Jon Kemp might love her?" Raef narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe Jon was in love with anyone. Either way, it wouldn't matter to Sarah unless she was in love with Jon, too.

"Oh lord, I don't think so, but I'm such a bundlehead." She pressed her face in the net, which did a poor job of hiding her blush. "It's just he's so handsome, and Cecilia's the dearest creature in the world to me. All I have." Her clipped tones faded to a husk. "I don't want to lose her. Even if I don't lose her to Jon, she might forget me when she grows rich and lives in a grand castle."

Suspicion glimmered and flourished. He'd been an idiot yet again. Sarah was in love with Cecilia. She sounded so desolate that Raef patted her rope-burned hand. "If Cecilia is your true friend, I'm sure you won't lose her. And Jon isn't a rival for her affections, I promise you." He could, at least, be fairly certain about that. "I don't think he's interested in loving anyone. He's a free spirit. Free as the winds."

"And a good man," she mumbled, dabbing her eyes. "Oh, I'm a fool, aren't I?"

Raef bunched his piece of net in one hand and hugged her. The older woman at his elbow cursed his negligence, but it was nice to offer comfort, to think of somebody else's woes for a change. He wished he had more friends, a true family.

After relinquishing her, he fought his way into the cottage, which wasn't an easy task. The tiny room was so packed that he couldn't get much beyond the front step. Standing on tiptoes, he glimpsed Jon and Cecilia sitting on a bench by the hearth.

Raef studied Cecilia anew. Her mother had been a mermaid, which meant she was half-mer, though she had most likely spent her whole life in human form. Half-mer could survive like that, but they could also shift to become a full merman or maid. He expected she'd not the faintest notion of her powers. She was certainly attractive, with her aristocratic features, though he now recognized her aquiline nose as reminiscent of Haverford's, as it would be.

She shared a father with Haverford, a privilege he didn't envy her, though she couldn't distract him from Jon for long. Cecilia was smiling up at Jon, along with every man, woman, and child crammed into the room. They hung on his every word as if he was a god. The cat had curled on his lap, furry face lifted in adoration as he tickled under its chin.

"So," he said, "Captain MacLowd told the man, 'Why, split my jib-boom if I wouldn't sooner be a loblolly boy or a Frenchman than a Methodist.'"

Raef didn't understand what Jon was blathering about, though Jon had his audience in tears of laughter, clutching their sides. It was a touching scene, though Raef feared even the cunning pretense of a net-repairing party wouldn't distract a passing dragoon from this rabble's mirth. Jon had a habit of making people adore him.

"Against their bloody will," muttered Raef, then pulled a face. He was getting into the habit of using a pirate's swear words.

"Raef!" cried Jon, and the cat to jumped from his lap and bolted from the room via the window. "Ah, here he is. The lad we've been waiting for."

Raef found himself being pushed through the company toward the hearth, a dozen hands slapping his back. Jon's expression exuded such fondness, his knees went weak. Maybe he was deceiving himself, but Jon really did seem to look at him differently to everyone else in the room. As if nobody else was there.

As if he was still naked.

Heat suffused Raef's cheeks, and he hoped it could be blamed on the warmth from the fireplace. Jon leaned in to embrace him, and he tensed. He couldn't enjoy this. He mustn't. Jon pulled away, holding Raef at arm's length and arching a brow.

"I'm fine," said Raef, before Jon could bombard him with any questions.

Jon nodded, apparently convinced, but still fixating on him as if he were the only fellow in the world. Jon probably did that to all the boys. Hell, he doubtless made Cecilia feel this way too.

"We'll get going, then," said Jon, breaking an awkward moment. "We're going to pay old Edith a visit and lure her with a pot of gold."

A jingling drew Raef's attention to a small girl, who gleefully buried her hands in a pot of shiny coins. Under the cot beside her, two even tinier children were using some of the gold discs for a game of tiddlywinks. Jon had uncovered some of his old buried treasure or had been off pirating without him. He fought an unwonted stab of irritation at the notion of Jon doing
anything
when he wasn't there. Jon squeezed him and let him go.

"Cecilia," said Jon, "are you ready?"

What? She's coming?

Despite his every resolution, Raef's spirits plummeted. He didn't want company other than Jon and bet Sarah wouldn't like the idea any more than he did. He grabbed Jon's arm, tugging him back around. "If Cecilia's coming, Sarah should come too."

"That's an excellent idea." Jon grinned, and Raef blinked. That had been easy. "Shame it's so dark, or we could make a picnic of it."

"We could anyway," called Cecilia, pulling on a ragged shawl. "Sarah's bound to have clams or winkles."

She regarded Raef with a curious, but friendly, air. Jon must have told her a bit about him, though he doubted Jon had shared the whole truth, tail and the rest. This meant she would be unprepared should he decide to share what he'd learned about her. He'd have to break it gently, if he decided to reveal the secret at all, and he was ambivalent as to what was best.

Cecilia held a couple of pins between her lips, using another to fix up her ginger hair. Raef edged nearer, inclining his head. "Excuse me, miss. But have you ever been in the ocean at sunrise or sunset?"

"I, mmmph … hold on." She removed the pins. "I don't think so. That's a strange question."

"Very strange indeed." Jon's growl in Raef's ear set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. "I wonder, Raef, what made you ask it?"

He'd not realized Jon had been close enough to hear. Then again, there were so many people in the cottage they were squashed like herrings in a barrel. "No particular reason," murmured Raef, stooping to pick up a pin Cecilia had dropped. "Miss Cecilia is very pretty, that's all."

"Hmm." Jon sounded unconvinced. He didn't pursue the matter, but Raef was suddenly glad they'd have company on the trip. If it was just the two of them, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep secrets from Jon, and secrets were good. They reinstated distance, and he'd have to get used to that.