Szereto, Mellanie - Two Pirates to Treasure [Bewitching Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (9 page)

Her blood stopped boiling. How did they manage to both frustrate and soothe her? She swallowed the last bite of her breakfast and blinked back new tears. When had she become so emotional? “What am I going to do with you?”

Peeking at her through the wavy brown strands, Grant gave her a half smile. “I have many ideas, love. You have forgiven us?”

“Only if you stop trying to be honorable. I’m not going to take you as mates for the reasons you gave. The joining is different from marriage.”

Ethan rubbed his hands over his thighs. “Tell us how it differs. We wish for your happiness.”

Perhaps they weren’t a hopeless cause after all. “Someone else will have to explain it. I need to go downstairs to the library for a lesson with Jolán in a few minutes. Amalric and Ranulf can take you on a tour of house and the grounds while they tell you about the meaning of being joined.”

“We will see you at the noon meal?”

If I don’t suffer another meltdown.
Their quick smiles erased her doubt—at least for the moment. “Yes.”

Grant’s eyes brightened to a lighter shade of walnut. “If you choose to ask us to join with you then, we will say yes, sweet Orshy. Have no doubt of it. We shall accompany you to the library.”

Both men stood, coming to flank her on either side of the chair, each grasping a hand and helping her to her feet. She’d met them a single day ago, and already she didn’t know how she’d survive a day without them—or years
with
them. She needed to have a long talk with the mated women of the household. Maybe they could give her suggestions on keeping her men from driving her crazy and how to determine if they were her true mates. What if she was like the people oblivious to the existence of witches, warlocks, and magic? Would she have to fail at multiple relationships before she succeeded?

Was I better off living in the cursed castle with no knowledge of womanhood?

“Orshy?” Grant halted three steps from the door to the hallway, waiting to see if his ladylove was ready to continue to the library. She seemed distracted, like she might be mulling over whether or not to commit herself to Ethan and him. His heart skipped a beat at the thought that she could be considering asking them now to share their lives with her. Then his chest tightened. Or did she doubt their connection? He’d damn well find a way to convince her.

She shook her head. “Come on. I don’t want to be late.”

Letting her set the pace, he walked beside her from their quarters to a room on the first floor filled with shelf after shelf of books. Tall windows faced the grounds of the estate. A desk was partially covered in leather-bound tomes, and tea service sat upon a tray on a low table in front of a couch.

Ethan released her other hand as they entered the high-ceilinged cavern. “Your family possesses a great store of knowledge. There must be thousands of volumes on these shelves. Captain Bellamy’s treasure pales in comparison.”

A smile lit up her eyes. “Do you like books? I’m sure Kata would be pleased to help you find something suitable to read if you ask her. She’s in charge of the library.”

“Before we joined the ranks of Black Sam’s crew, I rarely went about without a book in my hands.” Strolling along the nearest section of shelving, he ran his fingers over the spines. “Shakespeare. Galileo. DaVinci. Did someone travel through time to acquire them? They must be priceless, given that we’re in the twenty-first century.”

“I don’t believe anyone got them by going back in time. We’re not supposed to use our abilities that way.” She stopped at the desk, seeming to stare out the window.

After several long moments of silence, Grant considered asking her why she’d grown quiet. Was she finally going to propose that they become mated? He held his breath through the furrowing of her brows and nibbling of her lower lip. More than anything, he wanted to assure her she had nothing worry over.

She let out a noisy exhale and turned to face him. “Why did you become pirates?”

Chapter 8

Ethan pretended to study the titles on the nearest shelf in an effort to hide his panic at Orshy’s question. He had no wish to lie to her, but the truth of their choice to become pirates was founded entirely on their search. The more of the world he and Grant traveled, the better their chances of locating their target. Now that they had, the strategy had proven itself worthy.

The soft padding of feet on the polished wood floor had him turning toward the entrance to the library as Jolán hurried through the doorway. “Orsolya, sorry I’m late. I was playing with the babies and lost track of time.”

Saved from another deception.
He crossed the room to brush his lips over Orshy’s cheek. “Grant and I will leave you to your lessons, love.”

Grant mimicked the action. “We shall await your arrival at the dining hall for lunch.”

Striding out of the room before she could insist on an answer to her query, Ethan followed the hall toward the front staircase with his cousin close behind him. “I despise not being able to tell her. She is an innocent in this game we must play.”

“She deserves to be prepared.” The hissed response at his shoulder confirmed Grant’s dislike of the situation as well.

“Do you suppose our dilemma is the reason for so many failures in the past?” As Ethan continued toward the opposite hall, he shoved his fingers through his hair. “We must succeed, if only to prevent distress to Orshy by causing her to believe that we would ever choose to leave her.”

Male laughter echoed along the corridor leading to the dining room, and a moment later Amalric and Ranulf walked out of one of the other rooms.

Amalric shook his head and grinned. “Our Lu tells a fine bawdy joke. Ah, Ethan and Grant. How fare you after being put in your place by Orsolya this fine morning?”

Giving a shrug, Grant offered his hand to the former knights. “We have apologized yet again for overstepping the unbeknownst boundaries set by our mate.”

They exchanged handshakes, and Ethan nodded. “Orshy angers easily. Are all women of this time so quick to change moods?”

With a chuckle, Ranulf gestured toward the way Ethan and Grant had just come. “Let’s go outside where we won’t be overheard and misinterpreted. Amalric and I will show you around.”

Ethan gave a nod. The former knight had the right of it. Orshy mistook many a simple statement for something with greater meaning and then threatened to return her mates to a ship that likely had run aground.

As they exited the mansion, he half expected to walk out into a cloudburst, but the storm clouds present during Orshy’s tirade had blown apart to reveal bits of blue sky. A cobblestone lane wove a path between two green expanses edged by a tall stone wall. An iron gate blocked the drive from the road beyond. Fortress seemed a more accurate word for the estate than mansion—which could make his task easier or far more difficult.

“To the south lies the road.” Amalric pointed toward the wall and gate. “All visitors must enter through the video monitoring system.”

Grant’s expression mirrored the confusion in Ethan’s mind.

Raising his hands to form a square, Ranulf framed the top of a tree. “A video is a moving picture. Imagine a portrait that catches the movements of the people and objects within it. It is very useful technology for keeping track of who is on the property. All those who live here help maintain the secrecy and safety of the family. The townsfolk must not become aware of the Macska legacy.”

Tek-nul-o-gee. Vid-e-o.
What strange words in this century.

“Nor the existence of the Order of the Elements.” Amalric motioned for Ethan and Grant to follow him to the corner of the house. The view included several outbuildings, acres of gardens and yards, and mature forest in the distance. “Plants will soon sprout in the tilled areas for the summer, and the greenhouses enable us to grow many of our own vegetables during the cold season. The woods form the north boundary with a secure fence and devices for detecting motion.”

As they walked the perimeter of the mansion to a series of fieldstone paths, the former knights identified the stable and riding areas, plantings dedicated to seasons and earthly elements, and the roped-off section at the east end of the mansion set for the building of a new wing. With every new mating came the need for more living space.

Ranulf propped his hands on his hips and grinned. “We’ve asked to be one of the first to move in. Amalric and I will be fathers in a few months. A boy and a girl. If all goes as planned, we’ll have six children with Lu before the end of her fertility cycles.”

The pride in his voice was unmistakable. Instead of letting the spark of jealousy ignite, Ethan turned to face the woods. “How did you come to know that Lu will bear a son and a daughter?”

“Some of the Macskas possess the skill to know these things. Lu can tell with a single touch if a woman is with child. She’d know whether Orsolya carries your—”

Ethan raised his hand to stop Ranulf’s tempting suggestion. “Until Orshy decides to invite us to become her mates, I prefer ignorance.”

“As do I.” Glancing at Ethan, Grant gave an almost imperceptible nod. “A great many years have passed since I last went for a walk among the trees. Would you care to give us a more thorough tour of the grounds?”

“’Twould be our pleasure.” Setting off across the grassy lawn, Amalric laughed. “Perhaps we can also discuss the matter of our modern women’s idea of independence—the one that makes them rebel against men expecting to tame them.”

Ethan couldn’t have planned a more perfect opportunity to do a bit of preparatory work for his shared task and learn more about the mind workings of liberated witches. He strode after his guide, ready to accomplish both.

* * * *

Tromping among the newly greening trees, Grant breathed in the earthy scent of damp, decaying leaves coating the forest floor. He scanned the fence and the area on both sides as he feigned interest in Amalric’s lesson in the flora. The thick undergrowth next to the high crisscross of wires marking the boundary of the estate thinned after several long strides to the west.

Drawing strength from the ink symbol hidden beneath the hair curling down his neck, he pictured a series of burn scars on the ground to his far right. Three symbols. A single one might be sufficient to raise awareness in the household, but the trio would induce fear and a clear warning as well as mark the spot where the confrontation would take place. The odor of smoldering leaves carried to him on the light breeze.

Ranulf stopped a few steps ahead of Grant, turning his head toward the fence line. “I smell something burning. There! Smoke is coming from near the brush!”

All four men rushed to the gray tendrils, Grant and Ethan’s guides stamping at the ground a couple times before they seemed to notice the black outlines beneath their boots. Both jumped back and frowned.

Peering around Amalric, Ethan narrowed his eyes at the distinct shapes etched into the dirt. “What are those strange signs?”

The color had drained from Ranulf’s face. He pointed to a triangle with one of its sides laying against a vertical line. “A thorn on a stem. I saw this rune once in my childhood. It is Thurisaz—an omen of bad things to come.”

Amalric pulled a slim black box from his pocket. He held it up and tapped the flat side several times before a click sounded and a light flashed. After another quick flash of light, he gestured for everyone to follow him. “Romána will wish to see photographs to properly identify the symbols. We need to return to the mansion and alert the others. Security around the estate has likely been breached.”

Setting off at a jog behind Ranulf and Amalric, Grant resisted the urge to ask what a
foto-graf
was and to give Ethan a triumphant nod. The knights had taken the bait, and they’d pass on the information to the matriarch, ensuring the last phase of the task was put into motion. The leader of the Macska witches would recognize the warning and keep all those not directly involved in the final act of Grant’s and Ethan’s errand out of harm’s way. Their destiny was at hand.