“You just worry about finding a mother for that uncontrollable daughter of yours, Sandwich, and leave me to worry about my own affairs.”
“You mean, like getting that wench to warm your bed?” asked John.
“Nay,” answered Nicholas. “I told you, she holds no interest to me.”
“Then get her to warm my bed,” said John. “I haven’t had a young, comely merchant girl in a long time now. Humble enough to lift her skirts for a noble, but yet business savvy enough to barter her goods with you afterwards.”
Once again, the two of them laughed, and Nicholas just ignored them and headed down the wharf. Making his way through the crowd of sailors, tradesmen, and fishmongers, he headed to where he’d seen the girl.
He walked up behind her just as she held out a wooden bowl and a silver spoon to a tradesman.
“Two shillings for the spoon and six pence for the bowl,” she told him. “It’s a good, sturdy bowl made from quality wood, I assure you.” The tradesman just looked at her and shook his head and walked away.
“And so we meet again,” Nicholas said in a low voice, causing her to spin around.
“My lord!” She turned so fast she dropped the bowl and spoon to the pier. He bent down and picked them up and held them out to her. It was an action that would receive mockery from his friends, since he was a noble – bending down to a merchant girl. Still, he had a soft spot in his heart for pretty women – it was one of his downfalls he supposed.
“I thought I told you not to try to peddle your wares on the docks again.”
“I’m sorry.” She grabbed the bowl, but Nicholas wouldn’t let go of the spoon. It caused her to raise her indigo eyes to meet his. Exactly what he wanted. The sun was just rising on the horizon, and the rays hit her face, lighting it up in a soft orange glow. Their eyes interlocked for only a few seconds, but in the depths of her swirling orbs, he saw a sadness that he hadn’t seen from anyone in a long time now. He also saw strength glazing over the obvious fear and desperation.
“My bailiff tells me you are late paying your rent on my marshland. Two months late, actually, and I can’t believe I have overlooked something so important as this.”
He released the spoon and she snatched it away, shoving it quickly into her travel bag along with the bowl. Instead of looking at him, she kept her eyes focused downward.
“I will have it for you soon, my lord,” came her soft answer.
“Not by selling wooden bowls and silver spoons for two shillings at a time you won’t.”
“I’ll do whatever is needed.”
“My lord, your ship is ready to set sail,” came a dockman’s voice from behind him. He turned to acknowledge him.
“Thank you, I’ll be ready to board in a minute.” He turned back around to talk to the girl, but to his surprise – she was gone.
Muriel ran through the crowd of people, dodging merchants carrying barrels of grain over their shoulders, as well as men unloading trunks from a ship. She passed up two stray hounds being chased after by a young boy, and a fisherman holding a fish that was almost as big as him. She wove in and out of the crowd of dockworkers who carried dripping wet ropes and oars that had been used at sea. Gulls swooped overheard, calling out, trying to get a piece of the loaf of bread that one man handed another to be added to his trade. Life on the wharfs was a busy place, and it was easy to blend in and get lost. She had to hide away from the baron before he decided to punish her for only trying to survive.
She planned on going back to town, but there was no way she’d be able to get back there now with him standing in the middle of the pier with his men all around him. Knights, merchants and portsmen as well as his squire surrounded him, thankfully keeping him from scoping out her whereabouts. Or so she thought.
She quickly headed up a long pier toward a few ships that were docked. The ships creaked as they moved back and forth in the waves and rising tide. She could easily disappear in the shadows and blend in with the crowd until the baron left. She looked back over her shoulder as she ran, only to bump into someone, dropping her travel bag in the process.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, looking up into the eyes of the burly tradesman she’d dealt with yesterday.
“You again,” he growled as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Are you ready to let me sample your wares now?” He reached out and grabbed her arm, and she tried to pull away.
“Let go of me,” she snapped, but it only made him hold her tighter.
“I think you might have something I want after all, wench.”
She struggled again, and when she thought there was no getting out of his hold, she heard a voice cry out from behind her on the wharf.
“Leave her be,” shouted the baron, spotting them and moving in their direction.
The tradesman let go of her arm and she quickly sidestepped him. When she did, she noticed her favorite spindle of yarn sticking out of the side of his travel bag. She boldly reached forward and snatched it, and started to run again.
“Stop her!” the man called out as she ran down the pier, dodging fishermen and dockmen pulling carts full of traded goods. She hoped to be able to get lost in the crowd, but when she looked back over her shoulder, she noticed the baron and some other men coming right towards them, thanks to the tradesman’s shout.
She ducked behind a shipping crate, and then headed down yet another pier. And when she realized she was at the end of the line, she knew her only option was to jump in the water or possibly board a ship if she hoped to escape at all.
So she did what any woman in her position would do. She hurried up the boarding plank of the nearest ship, hoping not to be noticed in the commotion. Once aboard the ship, she hid behind the bulkhead, and looked out over the high side wall. To her dismay, the baron and his men were coming up the pier and heading right toward the ship she’d boarded. She looked upward to see the Cinque Ports flag flying on a mast above her head. Half red, half blue, with three yellow rampant lions with their back halves turning into ships was the emblem of the Cinque Ports.
“God’s eyes what have I done?” In her haste to escape, she had ended up in the one place she didn’t want to be right now. The baron’s ship.
Chapter Three
Nicholas headed up the boarding plank of his ship, perplexed as to where the girl had gone. She had an uncanny way of disappearing. He was sure he’d seen her come down the pier, and even the tradesman had said she’d come this way.
He made his way up to the forecastle of his ship, looking out over the water, thinking mayhap she had jumped into the sea trying to escape him. If so, he certainly didn’t see her now.
“Captain, shall we pull up the boarding plank and cast off?” asked his first mate.
He looked out over the wooden deck of his ship. The WindStorm was his ship – a clinker built cog with a hull that turned up sharply at the bilge. Square sails, a low sterncastle, and a high forecastle made his ship capable of carrying knights and footsoldiers to battle across the channel when his liege lord requested their services.
His crew was ready to leave now, and his friends would be waiting for him in Hastings. If he stopped to look for the girl, he’d be putting himself behind schedule.
“Sir Stanwick, Roger, is everything in order for our journey to Hastings?” he asked his steward and squire who were making the trip with him at his request.
“Aye, Baron, everything is in order,” answered his steward.
Nicholas looked across the dockyard, trying to spot the girl but he couldn’t see her. He knew he needed to tend to this issue, but he also knew she had no money and would most likely still be here when he returned.
“Raise the sails,” he called out to his crew. “Let’s head for Hastings anon.”
Muriel’s heart thumped loudly against her chest as she peeked out from her hiding place behind a barrel tied up under the sterncastle. She heard the baron order the crew to set sail. Then she heard the sickening sound of the plank being pul
led away, and looked up to see she was trapped aboard the baron’s ship.
“No!” she whispered, realizing there was no way out. She had two choices. She could jump overboard and probably drown since she wasn’t a good swimmer, or she could reveal herself to the baron and be punished and fined for her behavior and probably have the rest of everything she owned taken away. Or perhaps there was a third choice after all. She could stay hidden and stay put on the ship. Mayhap she could go unnoticed by the crew until they got to Hastings, where she heard the baron say they were headed. Perhaps she could find someone to buy her wares there, or hire herself out to spin wool and bring back some money for her and Isaac to live on.
“I’ll go to Hastings,” she told herself bravely. Mayhap this would work in her favor after all. Since the people of Hastings didn’t know her, she might be able to find a job. If so, she’d stay there long enough to earn enough money to go back and get her brother later.
“Check those barrels at the aft and make sure they’re tied down securely,” she heard the baron tell the ship’s boy. “I don’t want my grain spilled all over the deck before I’ve had a chance to trade it.” To her horror, the boy headed directly toward her. She had to hide. She couldn’t let him find her. She spotted a crewmember coming up from the cargo hold with his hands full of wooden boxes. His face was blocked, and so was the view from the other men. He’d left the door to the hold open, and she quickly darted toward it. Bent over, and hoping not to be seen, she headed for her new hiding place in the belly of the ship.
Nicholas turned to make his way to the brig, and thought he saw a flash of amber disappearing into the hold.
“What the hell!” If he wasn’t mistaken, the girl was hiding aboard his ship. Such a devious little wench.
“Captain?” asked his quartermaster, Arvin. “Is something wrong?”
“Nay,” he answered, knowing he should dock again and let her off, but he figured this would teach the feisty wench a lesson. “Just make sure the door to the hold stays locked and no one goes down there until I give the order.” He didn’t want her falling overboard, and this would ensure she stayed in one place until he had time to deal with her.
“Aye, Captain,” answered the man, going to do as ordered.
Nicholas continued toward the stern of the ship, wondering exactly what he was going to do with her once they docked at Hastings.
*
Muriel tried the door to the hold again, but unfortunately it was locked from the outside. She’d been feeling ill trapped in the hot, musty bowels of the ship and wanted some fresh air. She’d even decided to tell the baron she was aboard his ship, and turn herself in. But then she heard his deep voice from the other side of the door and changed her mind quickly.
“For Crissakes, Arvin, hold the rudder steady or I’ll hang you from the crow’s nest by your toes,” he bellowed. “I’m tired of being jostled about. It’s not even bad weather.” It had been probably several hours and she knew they had to be approaching the docks of Hastings by now.
She heard the creaking of the ship in the waves, and then his boot heels stomping over the deck above her head. She peered upward and could see men walking on the deck of the ship through the spaces between the wooden slats. Then to her surprise, the footsteps stopped just in front of the locked door.
The ship listed, and she grabbed onto whatever she could so as not to be thrown from the stairs. Then she heard the sliding of the bar hold, realizing the baron was about to enter. She turned and ran back down the stairs, just managing to hide behind a large closed barrel when the door opened and he came down into the hold.
Muriel hated this part of the ship. The horizontal planks over her head had spaces in between that allowed the water that splashed onto the ship to drip down atop her in the hold. It was a dark, dank, place that smelled extremely unpleasant. She was also standing ankle-deep in filthy water. The bottom of her gown was soaked, making it heavy and hard to move. She heard a scattering noise on the crossbeam above her head and then a thump atop the barrel she was holding onto. She glanced up to see a rat almost touching her fingers as its whiskers came closer and it inspected her hand.
She pulled her hand away quickly, and held back the scream threatening to spill forth from her lips. She closed her eyes, not even daring to breathe. Finally, she opened her eyes slowly, only to find the baron’s face close to hers as he leaned forward over the barrel to see her.
“Oh!” The ship listed again, and she fell backwards in surprise. She fell on her bottom, now sitting in the filthy bilge water almost up to her waist. She’d managed to keep her travel bag above the wet floor, but at this point it probably didn’t make a difference.
“You just can’t seem to listen to orders can you?” he spat.
“I . . . I’m not on the docks,” she said and tried to fake a smile.
“Come on you little stowaway, this is no place for a girl.” He reached out and put his hand on her arm and pulled her to her feet. He did it with force, and the ship tilted back the other way at the same time. This caused her body to be offset, and from the added water weight to her skirt, she went barreling right into him. He put his other hand on her shoulder to keep her from falling. There was an awkward silence between them, with only the sound of creaking wood and waves splashing against the hull of the ship.
“I didn’t mean to be a stowaway,” she finally said. “It’s just that . . . you frightened me.” She looked up slowly, waiting for his outburst. But instead, the corners of his eyes crinkled and he perused her as if he had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. There was a slight stream of light coming through the plank floorboards overhead, and it fell across his face in a striped pattern, making him seem as dark and dangerous as he was handsome.
“I . . . scare you? Why? Have I ever done anything to you to make you feel this way?”
He almost sounded as if he cared. She liked that in a noble, as it wasn’t a trait for a man of his status to care about anyone but himself.
“I – suppose not,” she said. “Yet.”
He turned slightly and now the bright light from the open door of the hold shined against his face, letting her get a close-up view of this powerful man. His eyes were green like emeralds. His honey-colored hair was mixed with shades of ochre, falling almost to his shoulders. He had a slight blond stubble on his jaw. He was tall and foreboding, and she was sure he would be asking for her to pay her debt next. Her stomach churned just wondering how she would answer.
“A young girl like you shouldn’t be so bold. Don’t you know you are only asking for trouble by coming to the docks alone? I saw you earlier with that questionable trader. You are lucky I shouted out to stop him or he might have had his way with you.”
She knew better than anyone she had been acting reckless. And he was also right that she could have been ravished by the awful man in the end.
“Now, we have a matter to discuss that has to do with the two month’s rent you owe me.”
She knew she had to do something to distract him or he’d be taking the land from her next. She’d already lost so much that she couldn’t lose this too. So without thinking what she was doing, she reached up and threw her arms around his neck. Standing on her tip-toes she pressed her mouth against his in a passionate kiss.
Nicholas was taken by surprise when the girl boldly and foolishly reached up and kissed him. His hands automatically went to her waist, the way they always did when he found himself kissing a beautiful woman. She pulled away slightly, and though he knew he should be angry, instead, he found himself wanting to taste her again.
She was petite and thin-boned and had the alabaster smooth skin of a noble. While she had the manners of a peasant and the courage of a knight, with her head thrown back and her eyes closed she looked genteel, passionate, and much like a lady. Her long, golden hair was twisted into a knot and tucked up under a small cap she wore on her head. She had a mantle over her shoulders that didn’t quite reach the ground. And her forme
rly amber colored dress was now a dingy shade of brown, as he swore it had soaked up half the bilge water in the belly of the ship.
“What was that for?” he asked, running his tongue over his lips, savoring the sweet essence of her kiss.
Her eyes opened slowly, and her tongue darted out to lick her upper lip, and the action excited him to know she was relishing the taste of him as well.
“That was for saving me. From that – that awful man.” Her eyelids fluttered, and he realized she was only using this as a distraction, hoping he’d forget about the debt she owed. Well, if she wanted to play with fire, then he needed to teach her that she could get burned.
He pulled her closer, placing his lips against hers again, meaning to teach her not to play games. He figured he’d scare her and she’d pull away, but once again she surprised him by doing the opposite and returning his kiss. This time her tongue shot out and entered his mouth.
A moan lodged at the back of his throat and his loins stirred beneath his braies. What started out as a game was now turning into a lesson he didn’t want to stop. She tasted so sweet and fresh, reminding him of a morning meadow sprinkled with dew. He reached up and took her face in his hands, letting his thumbs glide over her cheeks that felt as soft as rose petals. Her gown might smell like the belly of his ship, but there were still parts of her that were very desirable indeed.
He pulled back slightly, observing her. Her head was thrown back and her arms were still locked around his neck. Her eyes were closed and she was being so subservient that he was sure he could order her to accompany him back to his quarters and she would do so without fighting him at all.
But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. She was using her body to distract him, and though he usually fell prey to the advances of a willing beautiful woman, he couldn’t let himself be pulled into this whirlwind of passion based on lies and deceit.
“Nay! No more,” he said and stepped away. Her eyes sprang open and her eyebrows snapped together.
Medieval Romantic Legends Page 94
