“I have some savings. You can have all of it for transport. I need to get my children away from this hell. I beg you.” Desperation flooded her eyes.
Talon sighed as Carlos’ words echoed through his mind. You are Romani, remember that. His brother was right. He couldn’t leave Lina or her children behind.
He sighed. “Can you be packed within the hour? Captain Rousseau will leave without us, I assure you.”
Her brown eyes lit up. “Aye, thank you.”
“I’ll wait for you. You’ll have to leave most of your things. One trunk for the three of you, that’s it.”
“We don’t have much anyway.” As she hurried off, Talon pulled the key from his pocket and placed it on the counter with a few coins. Where in the world was the landlady? Gazing around, he saw nobody of interest, so he went to the bar and poured himself a drink to calm his nerves.
After several minutes of imbibing, he spotted a boy with tanned skin and brown curls darting out from a large tropical plant placed near the settee. Upon closer inspection, Talon chuckled. The child had fashioned a piece of black linen over his eye to resemble a patch. A red pirate kerchief covered his unruly hair.
As he approached Talon conspiratorially, he cocked his head, his childish voice morphing into pirate speak. “Aye, an’ who might ye be, matey?”
Folding his arms, Talon gazed down at the boy in mock authority. “I be Cap’n Talon. Who you be, son?”
“Private Arden. Mama says we’re going to sail. Will we find treasure and cut down those blasted Spaniards?”
Talon burst out laughing at the boy’s curse. “Almost certainly, lad.”
A small, shy girl carrying a worn doll and a book in her hands pushed through the kitchen doors. Her curls bobbed as she approached them cautiously. “You’re such a child, Arden. We are not going aboard a pirate vessel.” Ignoring Talon, she sat in a distant chair and opened her book.
Talon sat at her table uninvited. “Might I have your name, Miss?”
The girl looked up. Arching her thin brow, she stated, “Mama told me not to talk to strangers.”
Nostalgia filtered through him. With her dark hair drawn back in a simple ribbon and her large doe eyes scrutinizing everything around her, the girl reminded him of Lina’s sister, Holly. As a child, Holly had been bookish, as well.
“That’s Antonia,” Arden piped up.
Talon winked at the boy. “We aren’t exactly strangers. I’ve known your Mama since we were children.”
Placing her book aside, Antonia looked at him with wide eyes. “You are Romani, too?”
“Aye. Your mother and I were splendid friends. Our clans often traveled together.”
Glancing around, she placed her finger to her lips. “We aren’t supposed to tell anyone we’re Romani.”
Talon frowned. “Why the hell not?”
The girl raised her eyebrow, apparently admonishing his curse. “Mama says people treat the Romani like slaves and we need to keep quiet about our family or we might be taken. Our father is a white man, so most people believe we’re Spanish.”
Talon flinched. The irony that he was pretending to be a Spaniard wasn’t lost upon him. Crossing his arms, he gazed at her sternly. “You should be proud of your heritage, young lady.”
“I am, but Mama insists we pretend. It’s just a game.” The girl shrugged.
Bursting through the doors at the back of the inn, Lina dragged a small, worn trunk across the wood floor. She swept her mussed hair out of her eyes. “Arden, help me. Now.” The boy grabbed one end of the trunk from his mother. She smiled at Talon. “I can’t thank you enough. I am so happy we’re leaving this dump.”
“What about Mrs. Arnold?”
Lina rolled her eyes. “She’s having a lying-in, I’m sure. Who do you think did all the work? I’ve left her a note. She’ll find some other parlor wench, believe me.”
As the clock on the top shelf of the mirror chimed, Talon set his effects on top of hers and grabbed the side Lina held. “Come, lad. We need to leave.”
As Arden helped Talon maneuver their trunks along the busy streets, Lina kept him company. They approached the wharf, and the children scampered up the gangplank of the Winged Runner, darting past Fitzpatrick.
The man growled. “What in God’s name is this, Barberry? More kids?”
Marcus stuck his head out from under one of the tarps on the deck and scampered to Talon’s side. A huge smile lit up his face. Talon grimaced. “Fitz, this is Lina Dapres... er—?” He looked to her for help.
Her eyes sparkled as they settled on him. “That’s fine. I no longer claim my married name.”
Talon cleared his throat. “Quite. This is my childhood friend Lina and her children, Arden and Antonia. Can we get them to New Orleans? She’s willing to pay for transport.”
Fitz sighed. “The captain is going to shite, mate.”
Lina stepped forward. “Please, sir. I can cook. And clean. I’ve got plenty of experience in the kitchen.”
Removing his hat, the man cleared his throat. “Pardon, ma’am. Patrick Fitzpatrick, first mate.”
Her deep laugh filled the deck. “Patrick Fitzpatrick?”
Chuckling, the man reached for her hand and pecked it gently. “Me mother’s wrath. It follows me everywhere.”
Lina squinted at his strawberry blond hair. “You have a bit of Irish in you, it seems, Mr. Fitzpatrick.
“Yes, ma’am. Me Pap was direct from Dublin.”
Breaking their interlude, Talon tugged her trunk forward. “Shall we put this in the guest cabin?”
Fitz hauled Talon’s trunk to the side and pointed to a lanky lad no more than five and twenty manning the main sails. “Mr. Peters and I oversee the everyday running of the ship. If you need anything at all, let me know. I’ll see to it personally.”
A crimson blush stole across Lina’s cheeks. “Thank you. Where have my children gone?”
Talon pointed to the boy and girl standing near the quarterdeck, conversing with Marcus jovially. Talon grinned. “This will be good for Marcus. He’ll enjoy having company his age.”
Linking her arm with his, Lina gazed at him. “The boy told me what you did for him.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, Talon Barberry.”
Talon murmured a curse under his breath as the crew stared at them. Not surprising since the last woman he’d been seen with was Talia. The last thing he needed were wagging tongues.
Pulling away from her, he gathered her things and escorted her to the cabin Talia had used on their trip into Guadeloupe. “It isn’t a large space, but hopefully this will accommodate you and your children for a spell.”
As he placed the small chest on the floor, he spotted the mussed bed, the remnants of his last tryst with Talia evident. A pang of loneliness coursed through his body. Where in God’s name was she?
Lina cleared her throat. “This is perfect.” She wove her fingers through his. “Thank you for your help, Talon.”
Untangling her grip, he stepped away from her. “You’re welcome. What are friends for?”
The corners of her mouth dropped, and the sparkle in her eyes dissipated. “Indeed.”
Tipping his hat, he took his leave. It would do no good to lead Lina on. He had every intention of finding Talia. “And this time, I’m going to marry her.” The pain of losing her was too much to bear, and he’d be damned if he loused it up again.
“TALIA? I’VE BROUGHT breakfast.”
Balancing a tray on his arm, Alex knocked on Talia’s cabin door. He was concerned about her. They’d been at sea a week, and she’d hardly left her quarters. She cried every night, and she hardly ate. She was becoming too skinny.
He banged harder. “Talia Montrose! You are going to eat. You’re my responsibility, and I’ll be damned if I lose you on this trip.”
Talia slowly opened the door, her eyes puffy and red and her hair a tousled mess. An ivory silk robe covered her body as she wrapped her arms around her waist. It looked like she’d just
woken. “Go away, Alex. I’m not hungry.”
Pushing his way through the door, he set the food on the table near her bed. “It’s noon, and you’re still sleeping? Come, ma cherie. You must consume something. I’m worried about you.” Crossing his arms, he plopped onto the settee, kicked up his feet, and linked his hands around the back of his head. “In fact, I’m not leaving until I see you properly nourished.”
Groaning, she sat at the table. “Bon.” Slowly, she sipped the soup and nibbled the bread. To Alex’s delight, she managed to eat most of the meal. “Is that satisfactory?”
“I’m not your enemy. I’m just looking out for you. We used to be best friends, remember?”
She sniffled. “That was a long time ago, Alex. I’ve grown up. I don’t need your advice nor do I deserve your pity.”
“I don’t. I’m angry for you,” he retorted. “Talon Barberry shamed you. I’m going to give that gamin a piece of my fist when I see him next.”
She stood and returned to her bed. “I will not discuss my relationship with Talon. It’s over. He made that quite clear.”
Alex scowled. “What did he say to you?”
“He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.”
“What does that mean?” He narrowed his eyes. “Talia, tell me you didn’t cast that man out without speaking to him first.” As she turned away from him, Alex grabbed her hands. “Merde, woman. Barberry catered to your every whim. He followed you and protected you. His jealousy was evident. Despite what you believe, that man loves you.”
Her lips quivered. “Then why couldn’t he tell me so?”
Alex went to her quietly, holding out his arms. She accepted, sobbing upon his shoulder. “It seems you’re the only person who can’t see his true feelings.”
Burying her head in his shirt, Talia soughed. “I saw him with another woman.”
Alex frowned. “What woman?”
“The cook at the inn.”
Alex laughed incredulously. “Mrs. Corning? How do you know her?”
“I don’t. Apparently, Talon does. I think they grew up together. I overheard them talking. They belong to the same village or something. He’s a Roman, and that woman is his long-lost love.” She wiped the tears away with the collar of her robe and pushed out of his arms. “He hugged her and kissed her. It’s obvious he still cares about her. What if they’re still betrothed?”
Rubbing his temples, Alex tried to take in that information. “Barberry is Roman? I thought he was English of Spanish descent. Now you’re telling me he’s Italian?”
Talia wrinkled her nose. “He tried to explain it once, but it’s very confusing. However, he was supposed to wed that woman. She ran away with another man. Talon said she broke his heart.”
Alex scoffed. “And you think he’s stupid enough to return to a woman who left him before they married? You aren’t making sense.”
“Your ire isn’t helping.” Talia returned to her pillow, crying piteously.
He frowned. He’d never seen her in such hysterics. Usually, she saved the dramatics for their undercover work.
Sitting next to her on the bed, he sighed. “It seems you’re the one acting childish, ma cherie. You left the man without warning. Why didn’t you confront him?”
“I did,” she retorted. “Didn’t I leave a message?”
Alex hummed sarcastically. “Oui, you fired the man you love in a letter. I wouldn’t be outraged at all.”
Raising her head, she gasped. A hiccup escaping her lips. “C’est vrai, I shouldn’t have done that. But I didn’t know what else to do. And now, we’re halfway home...”
Her robe came open at the top, bearing her silk chemise. Her skin was pale. With wide eyes, she quickly clutched the gown to her chest.
Alex scrutinized her suspiciously. “You’re ill!”
She pushed him away. “I’m exhausted, Alex. I’m just going to rest.” She laid back on the mattress. As she tucked her feet under the covers, the bedclothes shifted upward, uncovering a basin hidden near the rails.
Storming up, Alex pulled the sheets from her bed and examined the vomit-filled vessel. “Merde. I’m going to find the ship’s doctor.”
“Non, please, I’m just seasick.”
Her sobs followed him as he stalked out of the cabin.
AN HOUR LATER, THE ship’s physician, Dr. Barron, was at Talia’s bedside. He’d given her a special tea to help her sleep. As she closed her eyes, the doctor silently motioned to speak to Alex in the hall.
Alex wrung his hands. “What does she have? Is it catching?”
The man chuckled. “Not in the least. Madame Montrose is enceinte.”
Dread rippled through Alex. A baby? “Non!”
“Oui. She cannot tell me exactly when she conceived, but apparently, she missed her courses.” The old man stood. “She isn’t handling this well, so I suggest she rest, sir. I take it this wasn’t planned?”
Alex’s stomach roiled as he rubbed his temples. “Not at all.”
“I thought as much. She wanted me to keep this from you.”
Alex burst up. “She knew about this?”
The doctor frowned. “When we moor at New Orleans, have her checked by a physician, just to be safe. Be sure she eats and drinks. She’ll need her strength to get through this voyage.” Dr. Barron latched his bag and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. Montrose. You’re going to be a father.”
Alex sucked in a sharp breath. Dieu, he thinks I’m...!
Returning the man’s gesture, he sighed. “Merci, Doctor.”
As the man took his leave, Alex quietly entered Talia’s room and sat on the settee as she slept. He couldn’t believe it. Talia Montrose, his best friend and the love of his life, was going to have another man’s baby.
A mixture of disappointment and sadness filtered through him. He hadn’t realized she and Talon had been so intimate. Alex had spent his entire life hoping that she’d finally see him as a man. But now?
He couldn’t compete with this. Placing his head in his hands, Alex pursed his lips. “This complicates matters.”
Chapter 25
“LOOK OUT ON THE HORIZON. Can you see that ship?”
Standing on the quarterdeck, Talon handed Marcus and Arden the telescope Fitz had lent them. They’d been at sea for a week, and thus far, he’d managed to keep the rambunctious boys from destroying the ship. Even shy Antonia joined them some days to read her book in the midday sun.
Talon adjusted the length of the lens as the boy held it up. “Close one eye, Arden.”
The child obeyed. With a gleeful smile, he announced, “Hey! That bird pooped on the captain’s hat.” Marcus giggled, taking the eyepiece from his new friend for a peek.
Fitz ambled toward them with a wide grin. “I see you’re showing them the fine art of navigation, Barberry. Boys will be boys.”
Talon chuckled, tousling each lad’s head. “Aye, I remember those days.”
Leaning against the rail, the Irishman stared at Talon for a moment, finally breaking his silence. “Have you seen Miss Dapresh today?”
“Aye, at breakfast. She’s making her talents well known.” Upon their arrival, Lina had volunteered her culinary services in exchange for passage. Her frugal meals far outshined anything Rousseau’s men could serve. She did amazing things with hard tack and dried rations, and now the crew was requesting their favorites.
Fitz stroked his chin. “If you don’t mind my meddling, what be your relationship with the woman?”
Talon’s brow shot up. “Oh, er...”
“I don’t want to interfere, if ye understand me meanin’. I’m not a wife-chaser, sir.”
Talon gazed at the man. Fitz was a bit older, but perhaps Lina needed someone like him. He had a firm hand and a kind heart. He’d already taken a liking to her children.
Talon clapped the man on the shoulder. “She and I are old friends, nothing more.”
Fitz eyed him warily. “She said you were once betrothed. She seems to fan
cy you.”
Talon frowned. “Fifteen years ago. We’ve since moved on.” He looked at the man incredulously. “She still fancies me?”
“To be sure.”
“Isn’t that a right kick in the backside?” Talon muttered. He’d been so preoccupied about Talia he hadn’t noticed that Lina might have feelings for him.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing, mate.” Talon drew Fitz aside. “If you’re looking for my blessing, you’ve got it. Lina could use a spot of company from our homeland. She’s been away a long time.”
Grinning broadly, the man tipped his hat. “Aye, sir. Thank ye.” Sticking his thumbs in his breeches, he ambled off with a hop in his step. He saluted the approaching captain cheerfully. “Mornin’, sir.”
Puffing on his pipe, Rousseau stormed toward Talon. “What are you doing to my crew, Barberry? First, you bring children aboard, and now you’re playing matchmaker with my first mate? You’ll have my men all namby-pamby by the time we reach shore.”
Talon laughed. “Come now, Rousseau, admit it. Having children on deck is quite refreshing.” The man mumbled something under his breath, and Talon cocked his head. “You have a new grandchild, aye?”
Rousseau harrumphed. “Oui, but he’s safely on land.”
“Ah, I see. You’re worried for their safety. Don’t fret. I won’t let them out of my sight.” Arching an eyebrow, the captain stared at him for a moment before stomping off.
Talon took the scope from the boys. “Shall we grab a bite of your mother’s delicious food before it’s gone?”
The sailors were lined up out the galley door, anxiously awaiting their meal. One of them remarked, “Fresh bread every day? It’s like heaven. Cookie’s biscuits are hard as a rock.”
“That’s why it’s called hard tack, ye git.”
Talon seated the kids at one of the long tables and got in line. He waited for nigh on fifteen minutes, smiling when he finally reached Lina. “You’re a busy bee today, my friend. Seems you’ve won over the crew.” He pointed to the line of men who were fighting amongst themselves for food.
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