The Pirate's Secret Baby (23 page)

"Where are we going, Papa?"

It was asked quietly. The child had such a sunny disposition it was easy to forget she was a girl who'd lost everything within a short span--her home, her friends, and most of all, her mother.

She'd almost lost Lydia too. While her future remained uncertain, Lydia could at least be glad he'd stopped her from hurting Mattie.

"We are going to my home, Mattie, and it will be your home too."

"I liked being aboard ship with you, Papa, where you are the captain. It won't be the same here. On land."

"No, but I will still be the captain after a fashion, child. I will always take care of you, Mathilde, no matter where we make our home, on land or at sea," he finished gravely.

The child's shoulders had been hunched, as if to ward off this latest tempest in her life, and she relaxed now, picking up her milk to finish it.

Some of the tension drained out of her own shoulders. St. Armand still watched his daughter and the look on his face made Lydia think that having a pirate to protect you from life's blows was not the worst fate for a small, motherless child.

The morning's lessons included division and history, with an emphasis on the land where Mattie would grow up.

"Are you from Liverpool, Miss Burke?"

"No, Mattie, I lived in London before I came to the islands," Lydia said as she sidestepped the question.

"What is London like?"

"Big and noisy, child. You could take the marketplace on St. Martin and fit it into a tiny corner of London. But there are museums and theaters and shops and Astley's Circus and the Tower--all sorts of things to do. You'd never grow bored in London."

"I hope papa takes us there!"

"Perhaps he will, but he says for now we're going to his home."

"Where is it? Can you show me in the atlas?"

Lydia realized that while they'd discussed this upcoming trip to his home, it was always in an oblique fashion and she still had no real answers. Northumberland? Norfolk? Devon? His speech was cultured but betrayed no regional accent, and he'd never let a clue drop. She suspected he'd lived somewhere near the coast since he'd went to sea, but in an island nation that covered a lot of miles.

"You'll have to ask your father for the location of his home, Mathilde."

"I did ask him. He said it's a surprise."

Lydia suspected he wasn't telling just to annoy her. He was so childish sometimes.

On the other hand, it was the times when he acted like anything but a mischievous child that she feared the consequences. She could handle a naughty little boy. Handling a naughty muscular pirate was a very different situation. Even now, when she thought herself far past the point of being able to blush, just thinking the words "naughty muscular pirate" made heat rise in her face as she cursed the vivid imagination that had gotten her into trouble in the past.

"Then I'm sure we'll find out soon enough, Mattie. Now, back to London... Do you remember the year of the Great Fire?"

Their escort to the dress shop, Conroy, collected them late in the morning and they enjoyed a chilly but bright day as they walked along, Mattie holding tight to Lydia's hand and chattering like a parrot as she pointed to the tall buildings and ships in the harbor. Mattie could identify many of the types of ships by their rigging, but made sure Lydia understood there was no finer vessel afloat than the
Prodigal Son.

"I will agree with you, Mattie. It's the finest vessel I've ever sailed on."

Lydia observed Conroy as they walked the streets, nodding occasionally to acquaintances, but keeping his hand near the knife at his belt. The sailors they passed on the street looked at her and Mattie curiously, but made no attempt to approach them and Lydia appreciated again how while being with Robert St. Armand and his crew could ruin a woman's reputation, the
Prodigal Son's
reputation ensured she was treated respectfully.

Mrs. Culver's dress shop was tucked away on a quiet street before the docks, flanked by an apothecary and a bakery whose aromas elicited a promise of a side trip after Mattie was outfitted, but not before.

She started to fuss, but Conroy said, "Rigging first, miss. Your task is to be sure you're shipshape for the captain," earning him a grateful look from the governess, and a frown from Mattie's father observing them from the doorway.

He excused Conroy from his escort duties, taking Lydia's arm and muttering that next time he'd send Sails.

"Here are the lovely ladies I promised you, Mrs. Culver, ready to be outfitted. I'm giving you carte blanche to take good care of them and have their clothing to us by the end of the week."

Mrs. Culver was a lady comfortably past youth, her own clothing fashionable, crafted of fine fabric to complement her matronly figure. Lydia had feared a pirate's seamstress would have her looking like a blowsier Anne Bonny, but she could see Mrs. Culver would take appropriate care of her.

"I don't anticipate a problem so long as you understand, Captain, I will need to bring in extra girls to sew these frocks in time."

"I am paying for my own garments,
as you know
, Captain St. Armand, but since you are in a hurry to depart I am not unwilling to allow you to pay the extra for the additional seamstresses," Lydia said looking at Mrs. Culver, deliberately not looking at the man standing too close to her side.

"We can deal with the details later, Miss Burke, but I need to get measurements and begin work as quickly as possible. I do have some readymade garments here that the captain thought might help until the rest of your clothes are finished. He explained about the terrible accident at sea where your chests were damaged and you had to wear castoffs from other passengers," Mrs. Culver said with an admirably wooden expression.

Lydia was about to admonish the captain for telling tales, but felt a tug on her hand.

"Look, Miss Burke! It's blue like Papa's shirt. Please, Papa, may I have a dress made from that?"

"That velvet would make a charming winter dress for you, Mattie. I have an idea. Let's use it to make a gown for Miss Burke, and Mrs. Culver will make a dress for you too. Wouldn't Miss Burke look lovely in that shade of blue?"

"Oh yes, and then she and I would match because I would wear it also! Say yes, Miss Burke, please!"

Two pair of blue eyes turned in her direction, one pleading, the other amused because he knew he'd forced her hand.

"You must occasionally let me win an argument, without the use of weapons or brute force. Even you must acknowledge the sapphire velvet would look good on you. You would shine like a jewel."

Did he really see her that way? She knew he desired her, but she also knew when a man's cock was thinking for him it was sufficient to have a glimpse of bosom and bottom to get him thinking a woman beautiful, or at least beddable.

"As Mattie's governess it is more appropriate that my gowns not draw attention to me, Captain."

"As your employer, it is more appropriate that your gowns do not make me lose my appetite. I must insist that if you are going to get new clothes that they do not offend my eye."

Lydia would have argued further, but Mrs. Culver spoke up first.

"Perhaps this would be more to the lady's taste? Sally, fetch the new silk, the one that arrived last week."

The seamstress who'd been hovering in the background returned shortly with a bolt of silk. She unrolled it on her table and an involuntary smile curled up Lydia's mouth.

The silk was a rich willow green, not as bold as the sapphire blue, but more color than a young girl would wear. The soft shade glowed in the light coming through the window.

"Mrs. Culver, you have an excellent eye," Captain St. Armand said as Lydia fingered the fabric. It slipped through her hand like cool water.

"I would fashion it with a net overskirt, repeating that at the shoulders, some cord trimming and you would look most appropriate, ma'am."

Lydia knew she should say no to such a colorful and eye-catching gown, but the rebellious girl inside her rose up and said, "Yes, that sounds perfect."

The dresses were more elaborately decorated than when she'd left England, with additions of ruffles and furbelows, and the skirts were widening out, more triangular in design than in the past. She sighed over the illustrations of hats, fetchingly decorated and beruffled. It would be hard to wear a plain cap after seeing what was available to a lady with the wherewithal to spend on fine clothing. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit she was tempted by St. Armand's offer to outfit her, but she knew at the end of the day it was better if she took care of herself, watching her coins for her future.

The ladies continued to pick out dresses and garments through midday, with the help of their escort, who appeared to be enjoying outfitting them as much as they were enjoying it. Lydia's wardrobe was warm, modest and with Mrs. Culver occasionally siding with her against St. Armand, appropriate. Mattie's clothing was cut to allow her the freedom of movement both her father and governess insisted upon. Lydia realized she was smiling at the pirate, and he returned the smile without any discernible hidden messages. It was just two people who cared about a little girl.

It was dangerous, relaxing her guard that way and Lydia was glad she had one plain bonnet left, one hiding a good portion of her face from view. Walking beside St. Armand as they left the shop drew all eyes, the men because of the pirate's well-known reputation in the port city, the women because of the pirate's well-known reputation with women everywhere. Lydia tried to keep her head down, but Mattie's chatter and interest in everything around them drew her out. Mattie wore her same outgrown frock, but Mrs. Culver had a few day dresses that had not been picked up by clients who left Liverpool suddenly. When one sailed at the whim of the ship's captain and the wind, it could mean a hurried departure, but with a few quick alterations Lydia now wore a warmer wool gown of deep russet beneath the pelisse fashioned for her by Sails. Mattie too wore her pink coat, and Mrs. Culver had solemnly assured her she looked like a pirate queen in it, a comment which went far in making her willing to stand still for fittings and pinnings.

They were nearly to their lodgings when a light voice rang out, "Look, it's Captain St. Armand! Yoo-hoo, Captain!"

Lydia looked up and spied a lady across the street from them gaily waving a parasol while a scowling gentleman tugged at her arm. She ignored him and continued waving.

It was impossible to ignore
her
. She wore pink from head to toe, sporting a round dress trimmed with three rows of white satin rouleaus, with a deep rose pelisse of
gros de Naples,
and a large brimmed bonnet of the same shade as the pelisse, lined with white satin. It was ornamented with a full bouquet of flowers and Lydia sighed with envy. Having just spent the morning poring over Mrs. Culver's designs, she knew the lady was dressed in the first state of fashion and would never be caught out on the street wearing an ugly cap.

"This is...unexpected," St. Armand muttered, and he seemed unsure for a moment whether he should return the greeting.

The lady decided for him by pulling her escort across the street behind her.

"Captain St. Armand! I thought it was you, even though you have your shirt on, I said to Alexander, 'Look, it's Captain St. Armand!'" She leaned in, her cornflower-blue eyes wide and added, "Then he said something rude about you I shall
not
repeat."

Before either gentleman could respond to this, the lady, whom Lydia could now see was ridiculously lovely as well as fashionable, turned to her and said, "Did Captain St. Armand kidnap you? He really needs to stop doing that. Oh, and Pompom had puppies, Captain! Pompom didn't have puppies, he's a boy so that would be impossible, but his wife Coquette had puppies so now Pompom's a papa. And is this your little girl? She looks just like you. Is she a pirate too?"

She paused to take more breath and continue speaking, but the scowling gentleman said frostily, "Daphne, I am certain St. Armand and his guests are on their way somewhere and we are keeping them."

Lydia hoped someone would step up and explain what was happening, but Mattie heard the lady ask if she was a pirate and practically glowed with excitement.

"I am Mathilde St. Armand, but the other pirates call me Marauding Mattie!"

The lady--Daphne--clapped her hands in delight. "You have a pirate name! How wonderful!" She smiled at Lydia and said, "Are you a pirate also Miss--?"

St. Armand sighed, saying, "I suppose I must do introductions."

"It's really not necessary," the gruff man said with a barely discernible Scottish accent.

"Miss Burke, I would like to introduce you to Miss Daphne Farnham and Mr. Alexander Murray. Miss Farnham, Murray, my daughter, Mathilde St. Armand and her governess, Miss Lydia Burke."

Murray gave Lydia a bow, then peered keenly into her face, but there was no judgment in his eyes for her, just for the man beside her. Mattie dropped a curtsy that did her governess proud, and the smiling pink lady said, "Captain St. Armand, I am Mrs. Murray now--not pretending, really married this time. I have an idea," she said, taking Lydia's hand in hers. "Dine with us this evening and we will get to know each other better. Marauding Mattie can join us--we will be informal, and she can meet Pompom and Coquette and the puppies."

"Puppies! Papa, they have puppies! You said I could have a puppy, you promised!"

Now he appeared slightly panicked and ready to find an excuse to decline, but it was so clearly evident Mr. Murray did not want his company at supper that Lydia knew he'd be unable to resist tweaking the dour gentleman.

"It would be our pleasure, Mrs. Murray."

Daphne Murray clapped her pink gloved hands together in delight again.

"Excellent! We will see you this evening then."

Her husband sighed, but echoed his wife's invitation and they walked off after giving the direction to their house, Daphne still chattering away, her arm tucked into the crook of his.

"I truly did not expect to see Murray or Miss Farnham again," St. Armand said.