“No, you’re a pirate!” the boy gleefully shrieked.
Kate swallowed a smile.
“I have a letter from the King that says I’m not,” Jack said.
“Let me see it!” the child demanded.
“Never. You’ll take it! You’re a pirate!” Jack wrestled off of his lap and under the table. “Go plunder your papa’s hoard, my lad.”
Duncan chuckled and pushed back his chair, allowing his sons to clamber into his lap. He stood, lifting them without any visible effort as they clung to him, barnacle-like. “I’ll take these two back to the nursery,” he said. “I’m sure you’re all quite tired.”
“Oh, heavens, yes,” Fiona said. “Whenever you’re through, Alicia, I’ll show you to your room, but please do eat a few more bites. Kate—”
“I’ll take her,” Jack said. “Same room, I assume?”
“Of course. It’s yours forever,” Fiona said.
“Not if you keep having babies two at a time,” Jack said. “You’ll fill this place up.”
She smiled at him serenely. “Would you rather stay at the Witch’s cottage?”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he said, taking Kate’s hand and giving her a gentle tug. She stood and followed him out of the room.
“What’s the Witch’s cottage?” She trotted behind him, her hand still captive in his, and tugged briefly to make him slow down. They were of a height, but he knew where he was going and she didn’t. Her steps were slower than his.
“Exactly what it sounds like,” he said, slowing so that he was walking beside her instead of leading her, rather as though they were on a leisurely stroll through a park. His fingers were warm around hers, and her mind bounced distractedly off of the fact that he was leading her to a bedroom. With a bed.
“Er—” She tried to think of a good question, one about witches instead of beds, but her mind was a square cotton-covered blank.
Fortunately, Jack didn’t seem to notice her distraction. “The Witch of Kilgoran is Fiona’s grandmother,” he explained. “She’s probably one of the most powerful witches in the country and she gave both of them their basic training. Fiona will inherit the position someday.”
“I see.”
“She’s got a house between here and the village. It’s where Fiona grew up, actually.”
“She sounds nice,” Kate said absently.
Jack chuckled. “If by nice you mean terrifying.”
“I . . . didn’t.”
“She’s something, anyway. Here we are.” They’d reached a doorway at the end of the hall. “I like this room because it looks out over the hills. You can’t see the ocean from here, but it’s the right direction at least.” He opened the door and gestured for her to step inside.
The bed was very large. The thought kept tumbling around inside her head, bouncing off of any other observations she might have made about the room and shattering them. The bed was very large. She took a hesitant step inside and heard Jack shut the door.
“Are you all right?” he asked. She felt the warmth of his fingers on her elbow, sending shivers through the rest of her body from that deeply improbable starting point. She nodded. “There’s a screen there,” he said. “And hot water, I think.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll just . . . er . . .” He gestured toward another, smaller door. “The dressing room. You know.”
She nodded again. He disappeared behind the door, and she moved toward the screen, trying to ignore the bed. Her hastily-assembled trousseau had been brought up—and where had Lady Morehouse acquired all those negligees, anyway?—and a nightrail laid out for her. She undressed quickly and gave herself a fast scrub down with the deliciously warm water steaming in the tub. With a moment’s wistful regret that she wasn’t quite brave enough to bathe while her husband was waiting just yet, she slipped the nightrail on and edged over to the bed.
She stared down at it, her mind absently clicking through questions. It was so very large. Had it been built in the room? If it had been fully assembled elsewhere, how had they gotten it up the stairs? Did the estate have capable carpenters? What rates were they paid?
By the time Jack re-emerged from the dressing room, she barely noticed the fact that he’d changed into a dressing gown that hung loosely across his broad shoulders. “Do you suppose this is imported cotton?” she asked, smoothing a hand over the coverlet.
“Er—”
“Probably not. This is Scotland, so they probably make it here. Does the Earl still keep sheep, do you know?”
“I don’t—”
“Many of the Scottish peers have been turning their lands over to more profitable arrangements, you know. It’s terrible for the people, I’m afraid. So many have been forced to emigrate.”
“Kate.”
“We try to provide as many positions as we can for the young women, but if they don’t make it on a ship to America, they’re almost guaranteed to fall upon difficult times. And who knows what it’s like there,” she said absently.
“Kate.”
“Hmm?”
“Can we not talk about the plight of the Scottish farmer right now?”
She blinked, and then reality crashed into her. She was in a bedroom. With Jack. And a very large bed. “Oh.”
He moved toward her, slowly. “I’m assuming this is your first time?”
“Of course. I thought you demanded virginity in your bride.”
“I only demanded a bride who was not actively pregnant, my dear. It turns out I would prefer my children to be my own, as old-fashioned as that may seem.”
“You’re a true romantic,” she murmured, finding herself relaxing down onto the bed.
He chuckled. “Let me show you how romantic I can be, my lady.”
As his fingers slid down her body, she began to think that perhaps marriage could be something more than convenient, after all.
Chapter 9
Did they all know? Kate wasn’t normally much of a blusher, but she found herself ducking her head and wanting to scrub the telltale heat from her cheeks as she entered the breakfast room with Jack. Surely not everyone would guess what they’d done last night. And once this morning.
If Lord and Lady Kilgoran had any opinions about the matter, they were graceful enough to keep them to themselves. And Alicia, who could always be counted upon to insert her voice into any embarrassing situation, appeared preoccupied with her breakfast and the attentive footman who was heaping extra coddled eggs onto her plate, presumably upon the Countess’ orders.
“Good morning,” Jack said cheerfully to the room at large. “Here you are, Lady Rothwell.” He pulled out a chair for her, and she stared up at him. “I’ll get you a plate.”
“I— Oh. Thank you.” She sat, reluctantly. They’d been married for all of two days. How would he know what to put on her plate?
It appeared he was going to solve the problem by putting some of everything on it. “Please, not the kippers,” she said finally.
“You don’t like kippers?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Hm. More for me,” he said, switching the errant fish to his own plate. She winced as he plopped a piece of toast directly on the wet spot remaining on her plate. Fishy bread for breakfast. Delightful.
As nice as last night had been—and as much as she hoped to repeat the experience—perhaps a conversation about just how this marriage was going to go was in order. She thought they’d married for the convenience of both of them, but if he wanted to portray a loving couple, he was at least going to have to learn that she didn’t particularly like fish. He might have saved her sister from scandal and offered Kate the freedom of her own estate, but breakfast was a serious business.
He set the plate down in front of her with
a solid clunk.
“Thank you,” she murmured as he sat down in the chair next to her and stretched out his legs.
“Where are the boys?” Jack asked.
“They ate hours ago,” Fiona said. “Small children don’t keep Town hours.” She sipped her tea, and Kate realized that neither the Earl nor the Countess had a plate of food in front of them. Apparently, they didn’t keep Town hours either, but were polite enough to provide for those who did.
“What are your plans?” Duncan asked Jack.
Kate glanced up sharply from her breakfast. “Plans?”
“As soon as we’re sure Alicia’s settled in, I thought I’d take Kate down to the Rothwell estate,” Jack said casually. “We could both use a look around.”
“Not London?” Fiona asked, a meaning Kate couldn’t quite interpret lacing her words.
Jack grimaced. “Not yet.”
Kate frowned. Leave? “I thought we would be staying with Alicia.” Kate turned to her sister, whose expression was for once unreadable. “Do you want us to go?”
“I doubt it’s up to me,” Alicia said. “You’re a lady now.” She lowered her gaze down to her plate of eggs. “It’s fine.”
“But—”
“You are the wife of a peer now,” Fiona said gently. “You both have duties to the estate.”
“Alicia—”
“Will be safe here,” Duncan said. “I’ll shield her myself.”
Jack took her hand. “Nobody is banishing you,” he said quietly. “We can come back. But I thought you might like to see the place. And—” His tone turned rueful. “Frankly, I could use the benefit of your estate experience.”
Duncan leaned forward, brows raised. “Experience?”
Jack’s fingers curled over hers. “Kate ran the late Earl of Ashewell’s estate for years,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. It warmed her. Her grandfather had appreciated her efforts, she knew, but he’d never stopped hoping that her father would sire a male heir. And her father, for his part, had simply ignored the estate. She’d kept on running it because she hadn’t had anything else to do. And Anthony . . . Her cousin’s disinterested reaction to her well-intended advice still made her fume. Perhaps now was a good time to turn her talents to helping someone who would actually welcome it. This marriage might have been the right choice for more reasons than the obvious ones.
“All right,” she said reluctantly. “But if anything happens . . .”
“We’ll send word,” Fiona said. “Instantly.” She flicked her fingers, and a glowing ball appeared in her palm, much like the watery one Jack had shown Kate when they met. The Countess squeezed the ball absently, and the energy shimmered around her fingers.
Kate felt the world turning around her again, just as it had when her grandfather had died, and her father. Choices, it seemed, were in short supply. The only thing she could do was fall back on what she knew how to do. She turned to Jack. “How far is it to the estate? We’ll need to arrange carriages and horses, and the rest—” She stopped as he held up a hand, interrupting the list that had been drawing itself neatly in mental lines.
“Actually, I thought we’d go by water,” he said.
“You have a boat?” Oh, dear.
“I have a ship,” he corrected.
“You’re going to take your lady wife on a pirate ship?” Fiona asked.
Alicia suddenly appeared interested. “It’s a pirate ship? Kate, you’ve married a pirate?”
“Er—” Kate was at a loss. She’d known he was Captain Boone, but she hadn’t heard the pirate part. Why hadn’t Lady Morehouse divulged that rather relevant bit of information?
“I have letters of marque,” Jack said. “It’s much less exciting than it sounds.”
Duncan snorted. “These days, anyway.”
“Never mind. The ship’s docked at Dumfries. It’s only a few hours away. I thought we could leave as soon as Alicia’s settled.”
Alicia sat back in her chair. “I’m settled.”
Kate looked at her sister, stung. Was she that ready to have them gone? Alicia’s expression was still unreadable. “All right,” she said slowly. “I suppose . . .”
Jack frowned. “What is it?”
Kate’s fingers twisted in her lap. What a silly thing to have to admit. “I get seasick,” she said finally. “But I’m sure it will be fine.”
Fiona’s brows wrinkled. “Jack, if Kate is susceptible to seasickness, are you sure a sea voyage is the best plan?”
He frowned. “It’s the fastest way . . .” He turned to her, his expression suddenly uncertain. It was unexpectedly endearing. “We’d travel along the coast. Shallower waters, no deep-sea chop. Can you do it?”
Be damned if she was going to tell her husband she couldn’t do something. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Honestly, I haven’t been on a boat—”
“Ship.”
“—a water-going vessel since I was about ten. I’m sure it was just a childhood weakness. I’ve grown out of it.”
“How do you know you’ve grown out of it if you haven’t been on a ship since?” Alicia asked.
The rare moments when her sister was sensible were truly annoying. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“We do have carriages, even here in the wilds of Scotland,” Duncan said.
“No, Jack’s right. We should go the fastest way. I’d like to see the estate, and that way you’ll know where we are in case you need to contact us.”
“When would you like to leave?” Fiona asked. “We can have the carriages take you to Dumfries, at least, and we can certainly make sure that you have enough food for the journey and get your clothes pressed and ready.”
“Is tomorrow morning too soon?” Jack asked.
Kate swallowed. “Tomorrow morning will be fine. Let’s do it.”
Chapter 10
Kate was getting very tired of farewells. She gritted her teeth and kept her composure as she embraced her sister. “You’ll be all right?”
“I’ll be fine.” And Alicia did seem somewhat better already. One day under the Countess’ tutelage and she’d learned to ground her magic so that it didn’t constantly expend itself. That, and a few more days of healthy eating, and Fiona had assured Kate that the hollows in her sister’s cheeks would fill out near-instantly. She and the babe would be healthy, both physically and magically. Kate trusted Lady Kilgoran’s word. Something about the woman was innately reassuring. Perhaps it was her self-confidence.
After their conversation, Kate had resolved to practice her own confidence and made herself remember that she had a job to do, one she was good at. She was looking forward to seeing what could be done with the Rothwell estate. Best to secure her own position with her own skills, the way she always had. Marriage had saved the Ashe sisters from one predicament, but it wasn’t the only way to achieve stability. Not to mention marrying a pirate captain had not been the most secure choice. It had been her only choice, but it seemed that stability, once again, was hers to procure.
They made the rest of their farewells and entered the carriage. Lord Kilgoran had provided two: one for Jack and Kate, and one for a pair of borrowed servants and the luggage. She supposed she would have to investigate hiring her own ladies’ maid again once she was settled in Cornwall. Or London. She remembered that Jack had given her the choice, although his language seemed to indicate that he might not be in residence wherever she was. Convenient marriage and all that.
She peeked across the carriage at him. He was staring out the window at the graying sky, his eyes remote and face expressionless. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was thinking, then closed it again. Did it matter? They were on the way to leading separate lives, no matter how devoted he’d managed to appear at Kilgoran. She settled bac
k into her own seat and closed her eyes, mind still churning.
~ ~ ~
The weather wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t going to have to intervene. Jack sat back in his seat with satisfaction, returning his sight into the normal realm. It was always a little jarring to come back from sending his mental energy soaring along the wind, diving in and out of clouds and dancing with the sparkling mist of tiny raindrops above. Coming back to earth always felt like a resounding thump. It was much better to come back to himself at sea, where he could brace himself with a mental splash into the ocean before sliding back into regular vision.
At least this time he had something nicer to look at than usual when he opened his non-magical eyes. His bride appeared to be sleeping, her dark hair escaping its neat knot to sway in tendrils around her face. He tried not to remember what that hair had felt like as it swirled around him in their bed at Kilgoran. Now was certainly not the time, and she was certainly not prepared to be introduced to the more interesting ways a couple could spend time in a carriage, just a day after her first experience with marital relations-their real wedding night.
He settled himself more comfortably in his seat, enjoying watching her. Asleep, she seemed calmer. Less like she was going to immediately start making a list. He’d woken up alone in bed this morning, finding her bent over the escritoire, scribbling industriously. He’d given up hope of morning affection when he’d peeked over her shoulder on his way to the dressing room. The list had been nearly incomprehensible, but it had definitely involved acreage. She’d spent several hours yesterday closeted with Duncan and his steward while Alicia and Fiona had practiced magic. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the Rothwell estate was soon going to be in profitable partnership with the Kilgoran brewery, or their sheep herds. He felt a small smile creep across his face, surprising himself with a wash of what felt like pride. Lady Rothwell, indeed.
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