A True Lady

by Edith Layton

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” Black Jack said sourly. “I’ve other plans.”

  “Doubtless,” Magnus said, as he walked out the door with Cristabel, “but so do I.”

  The two men gave each other measured glances. Cristabel’s chin came up.

  “Aye. And so do I!” she said. And frowned as both men stopped glaring at each other and began to laugh.

  CHAPTER 11

  Magnus sent for his coach, and he sat with Cristabel as they bounced down the narrow streets together. “You shouldn’t be alone with me,” Magnus brooded. “There should be another female here, but I didn’t have time to wait for Sophia. I’ll send word to her when we reach the restaurant.”

  “No need, she won’t be there. She said she don’t want to deal with me no more neither,” Cristabel said, so upset that her speech was entirely muddled between pirate and lady now. “Houseroom is all she said she’ll give me from now on, and so be it. Well, you gone—you went and told her what I asked you about her and Martin, and she’s in a taking. I can’t blame her. So best tell the coachman to take me home—nay!” she said, sitting up sharply as she heard what she’d said, “It isn’t my home, and never were. I don’t want to go there no more neither. Fact is,” she admitted in a voice so low and hoarse that Magnus frowned, “I was hoping Black Jack would be nicer—I mean not so ardent—’cause I be looking for a place to stay now. But he’s no safe harbor neither, blast and damn him,” she said in a hurt voice. Then she was quiet as she accepted the handkerchief Magnus handed to her.

  The forlorn little honk she made in it made Magnus smile, though his heart felt as though she’d twisted it. He didn’t know how she could play with his emotions the way she did. He had known he cared for her, but hadn’t known the depth of his emotion. When he’d heard that she had left Martin’s house alone, he felt as though all the blood had left his head, and all his senses with it. He’d called for a horse and gone racing into the night after her, terrifying passersby—and himself for it was only now that he realized how wildly frightened he’d been. Then when he’d seen the tavern she’d gone to, he thought his heart would burst. When he’d broken the door off its hinges and seen her in the pirate’s arms, he’d felt such despair, he didn’t know how he stopped himself from howling aloud in anguish. He shook his head. He felt as though he had never loved so much. He didn’t know if he liked it. He sighed, wise enough to know he had no choice in the matter.

  “Of course you’ll stay. If you don’t, you’ll make it worse. Just think about it,” he told Cristabel as she began to protest. “How do you think I’ll feel if you feel you’re forced to leave them? And do you think I’ll be quiet about it with them? Aha. You begin to understand.”

  “But they hate me,” Cristabel said, and was sorry to hear it come out sounding like a wail.

  “They’ll be too busy trying to work things out for themselves,” he said blandly. “Besides, they’re much angrier at me than you. They never stay angry very long, anyway. If I send word for Sophia to come as chaperon now, she will and double quick. She can’t bear to miss out on anything. Martin isn’t angry at you at all. He won’t stay mad at me either, because—well, because he’s a very good lad, when all’s said. He knows I love him.”

  “Well, I wish you’d kept me out of it,” she said petulantly.

  “There was no way I could. And there was no way I could let it pass. Whatever I may think of Sophia, I want that marriage to succeed. I didn’t want her to start looking to other men for approval. She would have, you know. She might have said she didn’t want him in her bed, but I’m willing to wager she wonders why he was so pleased to agree.”

  “Because she didn’t want babies so soon,” Cristabel said hotly, “and I think it were—was wonderful of him to oblige her, despite his own needs.”

  “You think he has needs?”

  “Of course, all men do, and she’s his wedded wife.”

  “And so, of course, you wouldn’t mind if your husband never touched you?” Magnus asked sweetly. “You’d never wonder if he was so obliging because he had another female in his keeping? You’d never ask yourself if he really found you desirable? You’d never, of course, think even for a minute that there was anything wrong with you? Or his love for you?”

  He waited as the seconds ticked by, listening to the sound of the horses’ hooves clattering on the cobbles. Then her voice came low and grumbling from the darkened carriage. “I don’t know how they stand you, I really don’t,” she muttered.

  “In any event,” he said, trying to keep the laughter from his voice, “I’m glad she’s not here now. I have to talk alone. I’ve arranged for a private dining room. I’ll send for Sophia or Martin to join us, or a maid if neither of them can be found, so you don’t have to worry about gossip. And I’ll leave the door open until someone gets here to chaperon you. But we must talk first.”

  Magnus waited until the proprietor had seen them to their table, poured the wine, taken their orders, and left them alone before he spoke. Then he reached out and took Cristabel’s cold hand in his. His eyes were smoke-colored and intense. She waited with growing unease.

  “Tell me about your mother,” he said.

  “She was a lady! A fine lady, Lady Elizabeth Ann Edgerton,” Cristabel said defiantly, “and—”

  “No, no. I know that,” Magnus said, putting his other hand over the one he held. “I know she was a lady. That’s not what I meant. But tell me, what did she die of?”

  Cristabel blinked. And then lowered her lashes, and looked down at their hands. “I—I never was sure,” she admitted. “All I know is my father always said she left us when I was a baby. One day she was there, smiling down at me, the next day she was gone, or so he said, but he never told me more. I thought it hurt him too much to say. We moved soon after that, and then again and again, so there was no one else I could ask. Not that I wanted to, I guess. It would have pained me to know. There are so many things that can kill you suddenly and horribly in the tropics, from something small as a spider, to slipping off a thousand-foot cliff into the sea. There are fevers and agues and such too. Any number of things could have done it,” she said sorrowfully.

  He shifted in his chair. “Cristabel,” he said, “what if—what if I told you that it may be that your mother did not die? That she still lives. That when your father told you she `left’ him, it only meant just that? Do you think it’s possible? At least—tell me, is there anything you know that might make it impossible?”

  She stared, her eyes so wide, he could see the white around the amber centers of them that glowed in the candlelight. The faint color in her cheeks came and went.

  “I don’t know,” she said wonderingly. “I don’t know!” she said in sudden glee. “You know? It could be so. Aye, very like Capt’n Whiskey, that’d be! To say she’d gone—not strictly a lie—and never say more because it would be too embarrassing for him to let anyone—even his daughter—know a woman left him…but how could she? He runs a right tight ship. But if she did—aye. Oh Magnus,” she breathed, her face lit with wild joy. “Oh Magnus, it could be!” Then she looked frightened and her hand tightened around his as she asked tremulously, “But why do you ask? What do you know? Can it be?”

  “I’ve spoken with three men from Canterbury,” he said. “Don’t worry, I was sly about it. I made sure they weren’t sure what I was asking, even though they answered me. I was trying to find out if you still had family there, Cristabel. I mean to marry you. You say you can’t because of your father. I wanted to tell you something of your mother’s family, maybe even arrange for you to see something of them. If you hadn’t wanted to meet them and introduce yourself, that would be fine too. I only wanted you to know they were there, and see for yourself that you were as good as any of them.

  “But I heard something hard to believe. When I mentioned the Lady Elizabeth Ann Edgerton, they all spoke of what a beautiful lady she was. Which I expected. But it was only a figure of speech, because they also went on to t
alk about how charming she is. Is, Cristabel. This woman they speak of is the right age, and from what they say, I think she looks very much like you. She’s said to be very beautiful, with fiery hair and light brown eyes. One other thing: They say she left the country to visit a cousin in the Indies when she was a girl, and stayed abroad for three years before she returned. But return, she did. I think your mother lives, Cristabel.”

  She sat completely still, in shock. He wished he could take her into his arms, but at least he held her hand. “There’s something else,” he said, and saw her break from her trance. Slow sorrow came into her eyes and she nodded like an old wise woman.

  “Aye,” she said softly, “there it be. There’s always something else. No matter, it were a good dream whilst I had it.”

  “No, no,” he said, grasping her hand more tightly, “listen, please: It’s all as I said. She lives, she’s loved and respected. But the problem is that she’s also married.” He spoke quickly to get the thing over and done before she could imagine worse, though what he had to say was bad enough. “She returned from the Indies nearly twenty years ago and married a near neighbor, an older man, a baron. She has two children with him. Two sons. There was no mention of her being married before. There’s no talk of a daughter, or anything before she married the Baron Batsford.”

  She thought a moment. Then he was relieved to see a small, sly smile begin to grow on her lips. She nodded, but this time with enthusiasm. “Well, but she’s not daft, is she? Who would want to claim a marriage to Captain Whiskey? But this I know,” she said with sincerity, looking straight into his eyes. “She were wed to him. I saw the marriage lines myself,” she said with pride. “He kept them in his sea chest, with the finest of his booty. She was just such a prize to him, you see.”

  But then her face clouded again. “I can see her leaving him and find no fault in it. And if she managed to do it without his knowing, I’d be proud of her. But…why did she leave me?”

  “Maybe it was too difficult to take you,” Magnus said.

  “Maybe,” she agreed, “but why not try to tell me? It’s been a lifetime.”

  He ran his thumb over her clenched hand as he sought the words to take the pain from her eyes. “Maybe she did,” he said. “We don’t know. That’s the point. But I know what we can do, if you want. We can go to Bath and meet the lady and find out for ourselves. They winter in Bath. The old baron’s bones ache and the waters there help him. It will take us a week by slow and easy stages—much less if the weather holds and we travel light and fast. What do you say, Cristabel?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “If you don’t want to go, that’s fine too,” he said. “Sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

  Her head shot up. “Never!” she said. “I’d rather know and be damned than never know and imagine worse. I must go.” She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t trouble you, but I don’t know how to get there. Will you take me?”

  “I wouldn’t let you go alone,” he said.

  “Well, but I wouldn’t ask if I could do it myself.”

  “Cristabel,” he laughed, “let’s fight about something else. We need a chaperon for you. If you travel alone with me, you’ll be taken for my mistress.” He didn’t add that he also worried that if she traveled alone with him, he’d take her as his mistress before she ever became his wife. It wasn’t only his response to her that made it a real danger; he saw hers to him every time she looked at him. She might not know what her quickened breath and stolen glances meant, but he did. And he knew that if she was alone and frightened, she’d be vulnerable to affection. He was vulnerable to her; a few nights alone in a place where no one knew them would weaken his resolve as much as it would confuse hers. It would be glorious. But like many stolen sweets, it might have a bitter aftertaste. He didn’t want anything to sully their relationship; he wanted her to eventually come to him freely and with love.

  “Since we want to keep it close,” he finally said, “it’ll have to be Sophia.”

  “Never!” she said, appalled. “She hates me proper; she’d spill it all to get even with me. I’d rather take Black Jack; at least he cares for me.”

  “Oh, a fine chaperon,” Magnus said sourly. “No. Sophia will be perfect because she understands secrecy too well. If she says a word, she can be sure you’ll have a word or two to say about her marriage. I know it’s underhanded, but though one secret is a weapon, two of them can make a strong pact. Besides, she’s terrified of me.”

  Her expression of concern changed to a grin. She clasped his hand hard. “My lord,” she said, “you would have made a wonderful pirate.”

  “Thank you,” he said with sincerity. “That’s high praise indeed.”

  *

  Martin insisted on coming along too. But since he and Sophia weren’t talking to each other anymore, and were trying to ignore each other and still watch each other’s every move closely, it was as though Cristabel and Magnus were alone together. The ladies rode in a coach, the gentlemen on horseback; there was a maid, two coachmen, and a groom for safety’s sake besides. It was as small an entourage as any person of fortune dared travel with. But Magnus also relied on his size and talent for weapons, and Martin’s steady hand with a pistol. And, Magnus thought with a smile as he rode beside the lumbering coach, Cristabel’s small arsenal that he was sure she’d taken with her.

  The women wore traveling clothes, which meant that they left off their hoops. Cristabel sighed with relief, Sophia felt naked, but neither told the other, because they weren’t speaking to each other either. Cristabel passed her time reading or looking out the window, hoping to catch sight of Magnus. Sophia slept, or stared into space, or glowered out the window at Martin. Cristabel didn’t know what their fight had been about, but she had several good guesses and only felt slightly responsible.

  Still, it meant that when they stopped to eat or refresh themselves, it was even more wonderful for Cristabel when she met up with Magnus again, because then she could talk about what she’d seen and thought. And watch his smile, and hear his deep voice, and sit next to him again.

  Cristabel was used to traveling by sea; the roll and pitch of a boat took some getting used to, but it was a gentle way to cover miles. She wasn’t used to traveling in a bulky coach over rutted roads. Their first night at an inn, she went to bed as soon as darkness descended, and fell into such a sound sleep that Sophia complained loudly to Magnus the next day, saying she wished she herself had such low sensibilities that she could sleep in a low, filthy inn among noisy, raucous strangers. Since that was how Cristabel had slept most of her life, she shrugged it off, only thinking sadly that it was how she would feel, too, if she really were a lady. But Martin laughed.

  “Good, then,” he told Magnus in a voice everyone could hear, “because if she could sleep, she’d have kept Cristabel up all night with her snoring.”

  It was very quiet in the coach for the rest of that day. They made good time, but the next day their travels ended early because of a sudden rainstorm.

  “At least it’s not snow,” Magnus said as he stood by the fire in the private dining room of the inn they’d stopped at for the night. “We should be able to get an early start tomorrow. It won’t be much longer, Cristabel,” he said, watching her as she stood looking out a window. The rain slashed against the panes. It was so dark outside, he knew all she was seeing was reflected firelight in the pocked and dappled panes of heavy glass.

  She nodded. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” she murmured, letting the curtain fall back again.

  Dinner had been surprisingly good, but Cristabel hadn’t seemed to notice. She’d been distracted all through the meal, and once the table was cleared, she’d paced to the window and stared out at nothing. She and Magnus had the room to themselves since Sophia had insisted on taking her dinner upstairs, and Martin started drinking with the local lads in the common taproom as soon as he’d finished eating.

  “Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing,
” Magnus said softly. Cristabel startled, because he had been by the fire a moment ago and now his voice came from just behind her shoulder. “When I found out about your mother, my first thought was that you should know, because you loved her so. But now I realize that love was given to you by your father—you don’t remember her, do you?”

  “Perhaps I do,” she said sadly. “Sometimes a certain scent, a tone of voice, a flash of color, comes to me and I think of her. But truth to tell, I don’t know if it’s my memory or his, or my fantasy altogether. I was two when she left. Such a long time—I want to see her as much as I don’t; can you understand?”

  He had been trying his damnedest not to touch the soft curl of hair that lay on her shoulder, on that smooth white skin, and so was surprised by her question. She took his silence for agreement. She sighed, liking the stillness, the companionable silence between them.

  Her mother might be alive, she might soon see her! It was her most secret and beloved dream. She envied Magnus his brother and foolish sister-in-law, his other siblings and his parents. She envied all the world their relatives. The absence of family was the one thing about living the pirate life that she’d most hated. Family didn’t mean anything to them: Few pirates spoke of their pasts, and fewer still plotted secure futures.

  But to have her beautiful lady mother again! To have a mother at all! She’d have to watch the way she spoke; would the lady like the way she looked? Were her manners good enough, was her voice sweet enough, would the lovely Lady Elizabeth Ann Edgerton be pleased with her? Would her two new half-brothers think well of her? Two new half-brothers! The thought made her mind reel. What if she displeased the lady? It made her wonder if she should do as she half-yearned to: run away and hide and never return to England again. Then she’d never know. And that would mean never seeing Magnus again.

  But if she suited her mother and if her new family approved of her, there’d be no reason to fight Magnus anymore. There’d be no more fear of not being enough of a lady for him—and less fear of his domination and eventual betrayal. If she was a lady with a family behind her, then perhaps she could survive; it might be that they could help her. It was a little hope, but she grasped at any ray of sunshine that could light the way down the aisle to him.