Captain Bjorn (Tales from The Compass Book 1) (6 page)

I stepped on Lauretta’s toes. Again.

She sucked in a breath, letting it out with a laugh that mingled with the string music and lost itself in the swishing of ball gowns. “You’re not quite here, are you?”

“Sorry?”

A curl unwound to frame her face. “Never mind. Who’s the lucky one, then?”

I frowned, and she prompted me to turn her. “The one you’re looking for, Aaron.”

A laugh twisted out of me. “Oh no. No one else. I’m here.”

“Really? I believe you look at my father more than me.”

“The earl glowers.” Though it was not him I looked at—rather, the surrounding guests. So far, no sign of Serrin.

Or the pirate captain.

Gentlemen spun their ladies in unison, and I followed a moment too late.

At the edge of the dance floor, Mother and Marc exchanged looks.

“Lights above!” Marc called out. “Shall I save you already, Laurie?”

Her voice tinkered, adorned with a smile. “The more I suffer now, the better the rest of the evening by comparison.”

The song came to an end—thankfully—and I bowed. “I’m not
that
terrible.”

“You really are,” a slick voice came from behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. A clunk sounded on the marble floor and a snake-topped staff peeked into view.

I twisted, stepping between the pirate prince and Lauretta.

A chill smile stretched his lips and his fingers drummed over the head of the staff. He stroked the length of the snake’s tongue with his finger. To Lauretta he said, “The color worked for your friend, but the dress suits you infinitely better.”

She sidled to my side with a giggle. “Thank you.”

“Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Marc is rescuing her,” I snapped and called for him.

“Perhaps the one after?” Lauretta said.

Serrin smiled and sealed the promise with a kiss to her hand.

Marc cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

As they lined up for the next dance, Serrin tipped his head toward me before sauntering through a jubilant crowd.

“What is your game?” I murmured, and set off after him, stopping when Sir Walter brushed past me, calling my mother’s name.

My teeth clenched, and I backed toward mother. She caught my eye and gently shook her head, begging me to stay back.

I glared at the dancers, filtering out the rhythm of clapping steps, the bouncing music, the collective murmuring of gossiping ladies, to hear Sir Walter.

“Never thought you’d be invited to such an event.”

Mother spoke too softly for me to hear her response.

“I’m not a callous man. I’m happy to make a deal with you.” Sir Walter tucked a strand of Mother’s hair behind her ear—

“There’ll be no deals,” I bit out, and pulled mother into the foray of dancing.

“Aaron, honey,” Mother said, falling into step. “I appreciate your help, but I can handle Sir Walter.”

“You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

A shadow passed over her face. “I have been there for maid Miller, I know what he wants.”

“Then—”

“I’ll do what I have to do to protect my family.”

“Mother!”

My step faltered, and she urged me on. “You are a good son. Your father would have been so proud.”

“He’d—”

“He’d also be saddened.”

“Saddened?” I said.

“The only thing he ever wished was for you and Marc to be happy. You, Aaron, are not.”

We turned. “You’re wrong—”

“Why are you still at home?” she asked.

“I love you.”

“I don’t doubt that. Why are you still at home?”

“Because you need me.”

Mother smiled. Soft. Sad. “Ah. Exactly.”

I bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What about you? What is it you need?”

My grip tightened.

“Don’t think I don’t notice the cuts and bruises. Don’t think I don’t see the light in your eyes when you leave the house. Everyone sees it. It took a stranger confronting me about it to realize things have to change.”

The music stopped, and so did my heart. “What?”

“Bjorn saw through you in an instant. You want to fly.” Mother gathered me in her arms and hugged me. “
I
want you to fly.”

“Bjorn! Bjorn knows nothing. I cannot,
will
not just leave you.”

“Yes, you will. You’ll leave, and you’ll come back to visit.”

“This is . . . nonsense.”

“The wind is changing, love.”

“But not me.”

“Not you. You shouldn’t have to.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Fly love.”

Mother’s eyes shone the blue of a sea after a storm all churned up. But she quickly hauled in a breath and glanced over my shoulder. Her gaze calmed. “Excuse me,” she said with a soft croak. “I promised Marc a dance.”

With that she melted away, leaving me gaping after her. Ocean scent tickled the back of my nose, and heat swamped the ballroom. Too stuffy, too warm.

I felt a presence close in behind me, and though we barely knew each other, I knew who it was. “I need air,” I gasped.

His warmth weaved with me through the guests and out onto the deserted balcony. Rain drizzled, softly hitting my face, and I moved to the edge of the balcony and stared down the cliffs to the ships in the distance. “Presumptuous bastard.”

“Was I wrong?” Bjorn said, steady, unapologetic.

I closed my eyes briefly. He shifted to my side and a shuddering breath left me. “You said you were coming here for Serrin. For Jack.”

“Yet you have this way of stealing my attention.” His words caressed the side of my face. “So inconvenient. Frustratingly stupid . . . of
me
.”

I looked at him. Light spilled through the glass doors, falling soft on his face. Eyes ever so focused. As if he saw past the smile I turned on him, saw me squirming inside, saw that . . . that rawness.

His breath caught. “Aaron. Please.”

I swallowed, stepped back—

His hand shot out, stilling me; drawing me close again. “Please.”

“I . . . I . . .”

“Dance with me.”

“I’ll step on your toes.”

“By all means.” Warm hands slid to my hips and his leg slipped between mine, steering me into the steps. My arms tentatively locked around his neck, and I stared no higher than his jaw.

The rain danced with us, light and tingly on my skin. Our breaths mingled, mine coming out thick and fast, not enough music leaking through the doors to cover it.

I glanced up, and his gaze pulled at mine.

“Stop that,” I said.

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

The music peaked and finished abruptly. We danced a few steps more, stopping where we started at the edge of the balcony. I should have pulled away faster, should have . . . should have . . .

Bjorn leaned in and whispered in my ear, lips sliding against my skin, eliciting a shiver, “Told you I was sure-footed where it counted.”

The balcony doors opened suddenly, and I jerked farther from Bjorn, swiveling toward the newcomer—

Marc. With a wide smile, directed at Bjorn. “Why captain, there you are. Laurie requested the next dance with you.”

“Marc,” Bjorn sounded . . . brighter than usual. “Yes. Let’s dance.”

He looked at me, and left.

Through the doors, Marc laughed at Bjorn’s side as they ambled toward mother and Lauretta.

I shuffled away from the view, into the shadows at the far end of the balcony. I palmed the stone railing and shuddered at the soft ache that stirred in me.

Sounds lifted, stretching nearer as the balcony doors opened again. I twisted around, breath catching—

Oh.

Not Bjorn.

Two other male figures. Serrin. The earl.

I held still in the cloaking shadows and listened.

“Your daughter dances beautifully,” the pirate prince said.

“Lay a hand on my child again, and I’ll—”

“Hardly a child anymore though, is she? But I suppose to a father a girl never grows up. Do you imagine what it would be like to have your other children laughing and dancing too?”

The earl’s voice broke. “Leave my children out of this.”

“I could save them.”

“Your price is too high.”

“And waiting for the curse to break? Your darlings might not make it. Few are supposed to.”

“Better than persecution. A sure thing if I help you.”

“This is why the Northern King gets away with it. He bets on cowardice.” Serrin opened the doors to the ballroom. “And wins almost every time.”

“What would you have done?” the earl said, and Serrin paused on the threshold, his back to the balcony.

“Never played a pirate.” Serrin disappeared inside. The doors clattered together, muffling the choked cry that came from the earl.

Such a sly, cunning man Serrin was; words, a subtle violence. A slow poison to seep fear into the earl’s heart . . .

A slow poison that manipulated my own hand. For the promise of protecting my family I distracted Bjorn, keeping him from his brother.

Like the earl, I leaned against the balustrade and stared toward the silhouettes of the ships.

The rain had lifted and a salty breeze wafted over me.

Mother was right. The wind was changing.

She was wrong. I
needed
to change too.

The earl straightened his coat and returned to the ball, and I counted to ten before sneaking back in.

Color and music beat against me as I arrowed for Serrin, who slipped down an unoccupied hall.

A shiver snaked down my spine as I followed him underground and into a long gallery. It’d been a while since I’d last come down here. Then, I’d been with Lauretta and Marc . . .

Lanterns studded each side of the gallery, four steps apart—between each one, a window and door.

Serrin’s steps clacked far ahead. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to yell after him and confront him, or watch where he went. What he did.

I held my breath and shuffled after him, keeping my gaze ahead, and not . . . not on the narrow beds behind each window. On the mothers, husbands, and children who slept on them.

After thirty steps, I paused. Shut my eyes.

When I reopened them, I was already twisting toward the left chamber. A roar pounded at my chest and my throat tightened as I swallowed the urge to cry.

There he lay, still as a statue, in the same shirt, breeches and boots he wore on that fateful day.

I stared at the caked mud on his soles. From the garden, where he’d been snipping red roses for mother . . .

I pressed a hand against the window.

“You’re light on your feet. I’ll give you that.” The cold top of a staff touched my chin and angled my head toward Serrin. “Why are you following me?”

“I’m not doing your bidding anymore. It’s . . . not right.”

He pushed the staff harder against my chin, gaze scrutinizing. “You’d give up your home—risk your mother’s virtue—for a pirate?”

I shivered. “I’ll find some other way.”

“Time’s running out, how will you weasel enough money?”

I didn’t know. But . . . but . . . “I can’t distract Bjorn any more.
Won’t
.”

“Started with hesitation, finished with conviction. You struggle to believe your own change of heart.”

I pushed back the staff. “Indeed. But I mean what I say.”

“You might mean it, but you won’t follow through.”

“You’re clever with words, Serrin,” I said, “but I see through their poison.”

Serrin threw his head back and his vibrant laugh echoed down the gallery. “Is it poison when it’s truth?” He tapped the staff to the glass window, making it rattle. Then he pinched something from his belt. “There’s always something to make a man change his mind.”

With a swift movement, Serrin opened the door to the chamber and stepped inside. I hurried in after him—

Something glittered in Serrin’s hand. “What—?”

He slammed a palm onto Father’s chest, and I yanked him back. “Don’t you dare . . .”

A heavy gasp stilled me. Father’s body bowed and arched and color swept back into him. I dropped Serrin and pushed to father’s side.

His eyes opened. “Aaron,” he rasped.

“Father!” I choked on a sob.

Serrin moved, and an instant later Father’s light died and he stilled once again.

“No! What did you—”

Words stabbed at my back. “Do you see now?” Serrin said. I spun, and he shrugged. “All I need is to know what you want
more
. And for you . . . it’s pitifully easy.”