The thought was so tempting that he lingered a moment longer, pleasuring himself with the taste of her lips, the press of her body to his. Finally, calling on all his willpower, he managed to lift his head.
"Let that be a lesson to you, Ambrosia. There's a time to fight. And a time to yield. "
"I yield to no man, Riordan Spencer. And especially not to you. "
"Aye. " He took a step back, breaking contact. Because the need to touch her was still so compelling, he picked up her sword and knife and held them out to her. "I could tell by that kiss that you wanted no part of it. "
She blushed. He'd hit too close to the mark. To cover her embarrassment she snatched her weapons from his hand, and prayed he wouldn't notice the way her own were trembling.
She flounced to the door on legs that felt like rubber. After throwing the latch she turned. "Shall I tell Mistress Coffey that you'll be staying on with us?"
"Aye. " At her little flash of triumph he couldn't help adding, "At least until the Undaunted is seaworthy once more. "
"We have a bargain. One you sealed. "
"And one I hope you'll relieve me of, when you've come to your senses. For that alone, I'll stay. I owe your father that much. "
He could see, by the look she gave him, that his arrow had found its mark. She fled the room, slamming the door behind her.
When he was alone, Riordan stalked to the fireplace, where he stood staring down into the flames. Desire still vibrated through him, leaving his chest burning, his limbs more than a little unsteady.
What was he getting himself into here? Between now and the time the repairs to the Undaunted were completed, he had to find a way to convince Ambrosia and her sisters that their plan was impossible.
As if that weren't enough, he would have to find a way to keep his distance from that infuriating little female. Each time he got too close, sparks flew. And one of these times, unless he exerted a great deal more self-control, they were both going to get burned.
Ambrosia sat between her two sisters in the carriage. Across from her sat her grandfather, who had withdrawn inside himself. He was, after all, saying goodbye to his son and grandson this day. Could there be a fate more cruel than that for a man?
Beside him sat Riordan Spencer, looking as stern, dark and grim as the angel of death. After her first glance Ambrosia kept her gaze averted, refusing to look at him.
As old Newton guided the team along the road to the village, Ambrosia stared out across the rolling hills dotted with sheep. She'd always loved this countryside. The mere sight of the green, verdant land, the wild, rock-strewed beach and the endless ocean never failed to stir her heart. But this day her poor heart was too heavy. This day she and her sisters would have to face the reality of their loss in front of the entire village of Land's End.
The carriage rolled up to the church, where dozens of other carriages were already parked. In the doorway the vicar and deacon, in their somber robes, stood waiting.
Riordan stepped from the carriage, then offered his hand to the young women. When Ambrosia tucked her hand in his, he steeled himself not to flinch.
Since that scene in her father's study, they hadn't spoken. He'd managed to avoid her at supper by taking himself off to the village tavern, where he'd lifted a few with the crew from the Undaunted. By the time he'd returned to his room, she and the others were already asleep.
This morning, while they'd dressed for the funeral, he'd walked along the beach, filling his lungs with brisk, salty air and preparing himself for what was to come.
Now he followed Ambrosia and her family inside the church and up the center aisle, where he could overhear the murmurs and whispers from the crowd.
"Such a waste, " a young woman was saying. "James could have made a fine match here in Land's End. But what woman had a chance, when he'd already given his heart to the sea?"
"And what of his father?" an older woman whispered loudly. "Without a wife for all these years. But he never considered marrying again. And all because of those daughters of his. What woman stood a chance to win John Lambert with those three around?"
"They've always thought they were better than anyone else, " said Edwina Cannon, in a bonnet far too frivolous for a funeral, watching their progress with a pout on her lips. "When we were girls, they never wanted to play with the rest of us. They were always too busy sailing with their father, or swordfighting with their brother. "
Riordan's eyes narrowed, hoping Ambrosia and her sisters hadn't overheard. He looked around and was astounded to see that the church was filled to overflowing. There were even sailors standing in the back, their hats in their hands, their heads bowed respectfully.
At Ambrosia's insistence, the front rows in church had been reserved not only for the family but also for the household staff and the crew of the Undaunted. These people, many of whom had worked for the Lambert family for a lifetime, were touched by her kindness. Hardened sailors walked grim-faced into church and took their places of honor beside cooks and scullery maids.
As the bells tolled, the parson and his young assistant ascended the altar and began the ageless tribute to the dead. The words of the familiar prayers were a soothing balm to Ambrosia's wounded heart. She closed her eyes and allowed them to pour over her. But when the entire congregation stood and began to sing the ancient hymns, she found she couldn't swallow the lump in her throat.
Beside her, Bethany's hand slipped into hers. From the other side, Darcy closed her fingers over Ambrosia's and squeezed. The three stood, too overcome with grief to join in. For all they could see, in their mind's eye, was the vision of their father and brother singing these same hymns with such fierce enthusiasm on those rare occasions when they'd been home from the sea and were able to attend services with their family.
Behind them, Riordan watched the three young women cling to one another, struggling with their emotions. He wished he could offer some comfort. But, he reminded himself, they didn't need him. They didn't need anyone except each other this day.
As the service went on, the parson gave a glowing tribute to Captain John Lambert and his son. With each word, Ambrosia felt her jaw tighten and her spine stiffen, knowing those assembled would be watching. Whatever grief she felt would be held inside, to be expressed only in the privacy of her own home. Here, in front of the entire village, there was no room for anything that might invite pity.
When the service finally ended, Ambrosia and her sisters led the way down the aisle, with their grandfather proudly among them. The ship's crew and the household staff followed. Once outside, the villagers surged forward, grateful for the opportunity to finally convey their condolences.
Riordan stood a little away, watching and listening.
"Oh, you poor dears. " A little birdlike woman leaned on her white-haired daughter's arm and pushed her way through the crush. The others moved aside respectfully, for she was the oldest woman in the village.
She grasped Ambrosia's hand. "Whatever will you do now? What a pity, to leave no sons to care for three helpless women. But it's always been the way of the sea. "
"We aren't helpless, Mistress Clay. " Ambrosia pushed aside her grief and anxiety and accepted the old woman's sympathy, if not her meaning. It seemed pointless to argue, since the next one to rush up to her was already crying loudly enough for the entire village to overhear.
"What a terrible loss. Terrible, terrible loss. Will you be selling that fine big house, Ambrosia?"
"Certainly not. " She turned in time to see her younger sister, Bethany, about to explode with anger.
"But who will see to your future?"
"We shall see to our own, Mistress Heathrow. "
"Oh. Aye. Of course. I only meant... " The old woman swallowed and tried again. "If only you had some men to look after you. "
"We'll not be needing men. We'll look after ourselves, Mistress Heathrow. "
"Ambrosia. Bethany. Darcy. " Riordan watched as the young woman with the fancy bonnet shoved her way throu
gh the crowd.
"Edwina. " Ambrosia gritted her teeth as the young woman sank her fingernails into her arm and held on. Knowing how Edwina craved attention, she was prepared for almost anything.
"I'm so sorry for your loss. " Edwina's voice carried above the others. "And I'm so sorry that my betrothed had to leave before the service ended. You did know that Silas Fenwick and I are to be wed?"
"Nay. But now that you've chosen this moment to announce it, I'm sure the entire village of Land's End wishes you well. "
"I thank you, Ambrosia. Silas wanted you to know that he sends his condolences as well. "
"How very kind of him. " Ambrosia could see that Edwina Cannon intended to wear her conquest like a badge of honor.
"He said it is a personal loss, since his import company depends upon every ship that sails for England. " She lowered her voice. "He also knows a good deal about the man who sailed your father's ship home. "
"Riordan Spencer?" Ambrosia glanced to where he stood alone, then returned her attention to Edwina.
"Indeed. "
Riordan heard his name spoken. And could see a frown on Ambrosia's face. A frown that seemed to deepen with every word spoken by Edwina, whose head was bent in earnest conversation.
"Silas told me that you should beware Riordan Spencer. He is the eldest son of a very wealthy lord who has vast estates outside London. "
At Darcy's gasp of surprise, Edwina puffed herself up, loving the fact that she seemed to know more about this mystery man than his hostesses. "As eldest, Riordan should have inherited great wealth when his father died. But before his death, his father disapproved of Riordan's chosen activities and disinherited him, leaving everything to Riordan's younger wastrel brother. "
Ambrosia's tone frosted over. "Thank you for your concern, Edwina. It would seem that the loss of our father and brother is nothing compared with the petty gossip from London. "
"Petty gossip?" The young woman's cheeks turned bright pink. "Mama and I simply thought, now that you have neither father nor brother to look out for your welfare, that you ought to be warned about the sort of man you've taken into your home. "
"At least you recognize that it is still our home, Edwina. If you'll excuse us. " Ambrosia caught her sisters' hands and turned away. "We have a great many friends waiting to offer their sympathy. " She turned her back on the woman, who could do nothing more than slink back into the crowd.
The three sisters stood in the churchyard for nearly an hour, accepting the sympathy of the villagers. When at last most of the citizens of Land's End had returned to their homes, Ambrosia led a procession of carriages back to MaryCastle. There the servants and crew were rowed out to where the Undaunted lay at anchor. When they had clambered aboard ship, those members of the crew who had sailed with Captain John Lambert for many years were asked to say a few words.
Afterward, while the sailors sang some of John and James Lambert's favorite songs, Ambrosia, Bethany and Darcy tossed flowers onto the waves and watched them drift away. Then they made their way to where their grandfather stood alone, staring out to sea, and hugged him fiercely.
Standing at the bow of the ship, Riordan found himself deeply moved. Unlike the church service, which had seemed stiff and formal, the words spoken here came from the heart. The tears of the sailors were also heartfelt, being shed without embarrassment. Winifred Mellon, Mistress Coffey and old Newton stood side by side, wiping away tears and squinting into the sunlight reflected off the water.
It occurred to Riordan that Captain John Lambert and his son, James, were fortunate to have such loyal, loving friends and family. A man could search the world over and never find a treasure as rare and priceless as this. And as the last of the songs washed over him, he realized that there was no way he could walk away from this family in their time of need.
Despite the fact that all around him hearts seemed to be mending, his own heart felt shattered beyond repair. He might tell Ambrosia Lambert that he merely wanted a ship to sail. In truth, what he wanted wasn't healing but revenge. Against the man who had cost him his ship. The man who had taken his best friends. The man who had left three lovely young women alone, and desperate enough to plan something far too risky for their own good.
"Are you coming, Riordan?"
Lost in thought, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Ambrosia touched a hand to his arm. "Sorry. " He glanced over to see the last of the crew climbing down to the waiting skiff. Many of the servants were already ashore and heading toward the house in the distance. "Maybe you could send Newton back for me when everyone has been taken care of. "
"All right. " She left him staring out to sea and made her way to the railing. Minutes later she turned.
Riordan was still standing where she'd left him, lost in thought once more.
Was he thinking about his father's fortune that had been denied him? Was he wishing he could be anywhere but here?
She turned away, mentally cursing Edwina Cannon and her hateful gossip. Ambrosia would give anything not to know about Riordan's past. But now that she knew, she couldn't help wondering. Had he accepted her offer because he truly wanted what she wanted? Or because he'd been left with no other choice?
It didn't matter, she told herself. Nothing did. Not Riordan Spencer. Not silly Edwina Cannon, nor the gossip she was spreading. All that mattered to Ambrosia now was that she find a way to keep on going, no matter how much her heart was breaking.
She made her way belowdecks, needing to see and touch the things her father had loved. As she entered his cabin she paused, half expecting to hear his deep voice, his booming laughter. Instead, all she heard was the creak of the old ship and the slap of water against its hull. She breathed in the sea air and felt again the knife twist to her heart.
"I'll find the ship responsible for this, Papa. And the men. And when I do, they'll pay. I promise you. "
She thought of her brother, and the anger and jealousy she'd felt when her father had allowed him to go to sea. How she'd begged and pleaded to be allowed to join him.
"I'm sorry, James. I thought we'd have years ahead of us. Years to laugh together, to grow old together. And what little time we had was wasted. " A big wet tear rolled down her cheek. "Wasted because I was too busy wanting what you had. " She drew her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold and miserably alone. "And oh, how I wish I could have you back. I'd give anything... " The tears came harder now. Faster, "... anything in the world if I could just have you back with me. "
"Ambrosia, the skiff is... " Riordan stopped in the doorway of the cabin.
She stood with her back to him, arms hugged tightly to her, her whole body shaking with sobs. It occurred to him that she might resent his presence. But at the moment he didn't care. He had to offer her what comfort he could.
He walked to her and drew her into the circle of his arms.
For the space of a heartbeat she held herself stiffly. "I don't need—"
"Aye. You do, Ambrosia. Sometimes we all need to just let the tears flow. "
His words seemed to unlock a door. For just a few moments she would allow herself this weakness. Would allow him to be strong for both of them.
She crumpled against him. And then she wept until there were no tears left.
Ambrosia lifted her head. "I'm... fine now. "
Without a word Riordan handed her a clean linen handkerchief. She wiped her tears, then took a step back. "Thank you. "
He knew what those words cost her. She'd accepted these few moments of grief in his arms, but she would still consider it a momentary weakness. "Are you ready to go back?"
"Aye. " Her spine stiff, she nodded and followed him out of the cabin and up the ladder to the deck. She was surprised to see that the sun had already made its arc across the sky and dusk was settling over the land. The whole day had been spent in grieving.
"Newton's waiting. " He led her across the deck to the rope ladder hanging over the side of the Undaunted.
She climbed down,
with Riordan following. When they were both settled in the skiff, old Newton began rowing.
"Good night to be on the water. " The old sailor glanced at Ambrosia's red eyes, then looked away.
"Dead calm, " Riordan remarked.
"Aye. " The old man noted that, although the two were seated side by side, they were taking great pains not to touch. Something's going on, he thought, though he wasn't certain just what. His first thought was that it was a shame they disliked each other so intensely.
"Think it'll rain on the morrow, Newt?"
The old sailor glanced skyward. "Nay. Going to be wanner, though. "
"Good. I'll be able to get started on those repairs. "
"You're going to work on the Undaunted?"
Riordan nodded. "I've offered to put together a crew and make the necessary repairs. "
"If you don't mind, I'd like to help. "
Riordan smiled. "I'd like that. As long as it doesn't take you away from your other duties. "
"It won't. " The old man brought the boat smoothly to shore, then climbed out in that strange, unsteady gait before helping Riordan drag it onto the beach.
"Thanks, Newt. I'll look for you on the morrow. " Riordan offered a hand to Ambrosia, who stepped out of the boat.
As soon as she was on dry land, she pulled her hand away as though it burned. "Good night, Newt. "
"'Night, lass. " The old man watched as the two made their way to the house. His eyes were narrowed in thought. He'd known Ambrosia Lambert since before she'd taken her first steps. She'd always been the most fearless female ever born. But something had her as skittish as a school of fish being circled by a hungry shark. And since he'd never before seen her back away from a fight, he was beginning to think it was something other than dislike that had her acting so strange. In fact, maybe what had her worried was the fact that she liked this newcomer a bit too much for her own good.
The Sea Witch Page 6
