A Pirate's Wife for Me (4 page)

"They sent us a
girl?"
The lady didn't even try to restrain her incredulity.

Cate stiffened. She didn't care how imperious the lady was. She didn't care that the circumstances couldn't have looked worse. She was tired of having her abilities questioned. "I'm the best."

"We'll see." The lady pointed toward Taran, then toward the door. "Now get out and don't come back until you can behave with more propriety."

"Yes, ma'am." He bobbled his head. "As you say, ma'am."

Cate watched the little scene, her hand at her throat. Who was this woman who so intimidated Taran? And why was Taran abandoning her to the lady's stern care?

He stopped in the doorway. "Trust her as you trust me."

In a low tone, Cate said, "That is not a reassurance."

She could see by the lines that creased his forehead that he was in pain. But he laughed. "Then trust her more than you trust me." He left without looking back.

Cate released the breath she'd been holding. Placing the pistol on the table, she buttoned her bodice all the way up to her throat. Then she dove toward her trunk, grasped the handle, and dragged it inside. The weight made her gasp for breath; she saw no reason to go on an adventure without the proper clothing.

With restrained violence, the lady shut the door behind Cate, then sent a hard look toward her. "You're observant, to so quickly see that Taran is left-handed."

Cate didn't see any reason to lie. "We knew each other … before."

"Did you? Where?"

"In Scotland. Years ago."

"I thought I detected a Scottish accent. Your name is …?"

"Miss Cate MacLean."

The lady, who had been demanding and overbearing in a way sure to get up Cate's nose, lost color. Her mouth grew pinched and the wrinkles at her brow bit deep into the pale skin. "MacLean?"

The lady's fifty years had not been easy ones, Cate realized. She looked as if she might faint. Cate placed a chair behind the lady. "MacLean."

The lady sank down and fanned her cheeks with her hands.

Cate flipped open the latches of her trunk and found her array of fans, packed firmly below the curve of the lid. Opening one, an ivory fan carved with gold curlicues, she set to work cooling the lady.

The lady said, "The MacLeans have been hereditary allies in the struggle to keep Cenorina independent."

"I don't know about that, ma'am, but I suppose you're right." Of course, she had to be right. But in those years, Cate had been young and almost as arrogant as this lady. She hadn't asked why Taran had been educated and trained with such care. This evening had made her think that her lack of curiosity had been an ill-fated oversight.

"There's a connection between you and the Cap'n." The lady stared down at the floor and shook her head. "And I didn't think the situation could get worse."

Cate bristled.

But the lady at once realized how that must sound, for she looked up and caught Cate's hand. "Not that there's anything amiss with you. It's Taran with whom I'm displeased."

Cate didn't quite believe her, but this lady obviously played an important role in this mission. Since Cate thought it bad form to shoot their leader
and
alienate another member of the mission on her first night, she accepted the conciliation. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

"Of course you don't, dear. That dreadful lad didn't introduce us. You may call me … let's see –" the lady pressed her finger to her lips in thought – "you may call me Sibeol."

Only Sibeol? Not Her Holiness Sibeol? But the lady seemed to think she had granted Cate quite an honor, so Cate responded accordingly. "Thank you … Sibeol. But I was also wondering what you do."

"Do?"

"As in … for this mission, I'm the lockpick. What do
you
do?"

"Oh. Dooo." Sibeol laughed merrily. "I serve as the voice of good sense. You might say … I'm the matriarch of this expedition."

Cate had met her share of domineering women – her mother was one – but she couldn't continue to interrogate Sibeol. For all her small stature, Sibeol dominated the room. She acted as if she had rights granted by God Himself. Cate would have given much to know if that attitude could be acquired, if one had to be born with it, or if it could be purchased.

As Sibeol looked Cate over, her severity eased. "I spent my youth envying tall, willowy women, but I'm too old to want to be anything but what I am. So I can look on you and think how lucky you are."

Cate fumbled for words as she had fumbled with her buttons. "Some people would tell you I'm too tall."

"They are jealous."

Without fondness, Cate remembered the girls who had taunted her when she was twelve and towered over the lads. "They are fools."

"You're quite comely." It was clear Sibeol considered hers the deciding opinion. "You could use some polish, but I'm sure that will come with time."

"I don't know why you believe me to be unpolished."

"You shot the Cap'n."

"That was not an ill-mannered action, but one of necessity, and I warned him clearly enough to desist before I put the bullet in him."

"Those are good manners, indeed."

Sibeol could be as sarcastic as she liked. Cate didn't care, as long she understood the circumstances and Cate's quite practical defense.

"When I was young, I had hair as beautiful as yours. My husband used to brush it before we went to bed." Sibeol stared at Cate, but Cate would have sworn she didn't see her. "More than ten years he's been gone, and I still miss the old devil." Sighing, she brought her attention back to Cate. "Why don't I brush your hair?"

Discerned, Cate touched her chignon and the wisps of hair hanging around her face. "I … thank you. That would be lovely."

"Get your brush."

Cate did as she was told. Despite Sibeol's attempt to set her at ease, she couldn't have felt more awkward.

Sibeol indicated Cate should sit on the chair. "Did Taran … harm you?"

Cate had traveled to London by herself. She had found her way into The Distinguished Academy of Governesses, and convinced Adorna, Lady Bucknell, to take her in and then to recommend her to the Home Office. She had endured an interview with powerful men, and convinced them she should be chosen for this task. She had traveled to Poole. She had, at night, entered a pub filled with men. She had shot her former lover. But never had she been as intimidated as she was now. " I didn't let him."

"So you shot him
first
. Good for you." Sibeol's thin, grim mouth lifted in a smile. "But if you will allow me to pretend I am your mother, I would remind you that a young lady doesn't allow a man into her bedchamber. It's not proper, and it leads to this kind of unseemly behavior."

With unnecessary force, Cate sat on the straight-backed chair. "I did not
let
him in. He
came
in."

Sibeol gently pulled the pins from Cate's mussed hair, and placed them in a tidy pile on the nightstand. Holding Cate's shoulder-length hair in her hands, she said, "Lovely. Like liquid copper trouble." Sibeol smoothed the brush through the tangles. "I can't help but wonder about your presence here. What is a MacLean doing working for the English? I would have never thought a MacLean would so lower himself – or in your case, herself."

"Sometimes it is necessary to join with one's enemies for a common cause."

"That I understand. But surely your mother isn't happy about your role here."

In the understatement of her lifetime, Cate said, "My mother breaks every mold." Cate's mother smoked cigars, wore fashions that were thirty years out of date … and disdained undergarments. Lady Bess would never venture to advise Cate on her choice of occupation.

"What about your brother? Kiernan, I believe his name is."

Cate pressed her hand over her heart. "Kiernan could never say no to me."

From the taproom below, they heard a crash loud enough to make them jump, and boisterous laughter. In her most acerbic tone, Cate said, "I knew all the lads in the MacLean clan, and from what I've observed, when men gather in a group, they become collectively stupid."

Sibeol laughed, and as if the sound of her own merriment startled her, she laughed again. "I've had a husband, and I've got a son, and I must agree with you."

For the first time since Taran had left, Cate relaxed. Funny, but even after she shot him, she had feared he couldn't be stopped. The boy she had known had grown into a man steeled in ruthlessness, and the danger of the mission paled in contrast with the danger he exuded.

Sibeol brushed some more. "How old were you when Taran seduced you?"

Cate refused to lie, or hide her face in shame. Lifting her chin, she said, "He didn't seduce me. I took advantage of his unhappiness and seduced him."

Sibeol caught a tangle in the brush, apologized, then asked, "Why was he unhappy?"

"I don't know." But his unhappiness had made Cate's heart ache, and she had thought she could cure him. "We shared a tutor and we raced to see who could learn more quickly. We were always neck-and-neck. My brother praised him as a great warrior, and the other lads admired him. But I think he missed his home."

"So you seduced him." Sibeol brushed some more. "He didn't have to take advantage of your offer."

Cate held her head carefully erect, letting Sibeol do her job. "As afterwards, my brother pointed out to me repeatedly."

"Hm. Aye. So Taran left, and you paid the price."

"Left, with promises to return. He never did." Even now, the knowledge that he had willfully lied made Cate want to find him … and shoot him again. Lower, and toward the middle of his body. "I learned a lot from Taran."

"Nine years ago?"

Swinging around, Cate snatched the brush out of Sibeol's hand. "Are you pretending ignorance, then? Do you already know the whole, sordid story?"

"No. I only know Taran's story." Sibeol's voice was tender and sad. "You see, I'm his mother."

CHAPTER FIVE

"His … mother?" Cate searched Sibeol's face
, searching frantically for a resemblance. "You don't look… I mean, he doesn't look…"

"Taran looks like my father, except for his square jaw. That he got from my husband, his father. Except — his father was never shot by a woman." Sibeol put her wrinkled hand to her cheek. "Although I
am
a very good shot, and there
were
times Tonio certainly deserved it."

"Men," Cate said.

"Precisely."

Cate felt funny about meeting Taran’s mother. Well, of course she did. She'd talked with Sibeol about the fact she and Taran had … had …

Cate made it a policy not to blush. Pink cheeks clashed with her red hair. But she blushed now, cleared her throat, and deftly avoided the one subject guaranteed to make her blush yet more. "If you are his mother, then you can tell me who he is, and why you sent him to Scotland to be fostered, and how he came to be a pirate."

Sibeol cocked her head and studied Cate as carefully as Cate had studied her. "Actually, I can't. The information is his alone to disclose, and he has good reasons to conceal his past. But I can tell you this, my dear. No matter what passed between you in the past, no matter what happens in the future … he can never be yours."

"I don't want him."

Cate's assurance did not deter Sibeol. "He is betrothed to another."

Cate groped for her throat.
Betrayed. Again.
She had known Taran was a lying swine, but this … this fresh evidence choked her.

Then the choking sensation became a laugh, short and sharp and loud. "Betrothed? That's rich!"

"I know he broke your heart and took your virtue —"

"You know
nothing."
Cate rose and paced away to the window. She pretended to stare out into the dark.

Sibeol picked her words carefully. "His betrothed is a woman of good character."

Cate swung to face Sibeol. "And a virgin?"

Now Sibeol looked concerned, as if she feared Cate would faint or shout or … behave in an unseemly manner. "She is well-guarded."

"How … glorious … for her." Cate laughed again, more quietly, and to herself, she said, "What a relief this is for me. Yes. A relief."

"I'm glad that you are taking this so well." Sibeol didn't seem convinced Cate was taking it well at all.

"Yes. I am. Taran's fiancée is what I should remember as we go forward with this mission. Isn't she?" Cate didn't wait for an answer. "Remembering her place in his life will strengthen me and keep me from having to put another bullet into your son."

"That would be pleasant." Obviously, Sibeol had stayed behind to give Cate that piece of information. Now that she had done so, she rose and moved toward the door. Opening it, she turned, steely-eyed, to deliver another message. "The mission is all important. Our personal feelings and desires are nothing compared to taking Cenorina back from Maddox Davies, and returning it to the caring arms of its rulers. Let us all remember that, and proceed with that goal in mind." Sweeping from the room, she shut the door behind her.