The Pirate's Secret Baby (37 page)

"Some of 'em are odder than others." Turnbull snickered, elbowing Nash. "Remember Gunner Goose?"

"Gentlemen, we need to concentrate. Mr. Nash, take your slate and show us how you would divide the rum among the actual number of pirates."

Nash hunched over his slate, the child-sized chairs in the schoolroom looking even sillier with the taller Turnbull perched atop it, and Lydia made a note to herself to have more adult seating brought in.

"There! It's thirty-four barrels for each pirate, with a remainder of four. Swive me, that's a good haul!"

Lydia rubbed the throbbing bit between her eyes. "If you would, share with the rest of the students how you did your work. Without oaths, if you please."

"I used my multiplication," Nash said proudly. "Because I could recite my tables I could look at it and know that seven, the...the..."

"Divisor," Mattie whispered.

"Right, the divisor. Seven times three is twenty-one and seven times four is twenty-eight, and since the first two digits in the"--he furrowed his brow in thought--"the dividend is twenty-four, that's bigger than twenty-one and smaller than twenty-eight, so it must be three first in the quotient."

"Hurrah!" Mattie said, clapping her hands.

"After that it was easy," Nash preened. "When you subtract down, twenty-one from twenty-four, you get three, you bring down the two for thirty-two, and seven goes into thirty-two four times. You write the four up top in the quotient and the answer is thirty-four with a remainder of four barrels!"

"That is correct, Mr. Nash. Well done!"

"Thank you, Miss Burke."

"Teacher's pet," Turnbull muttered under his breath.

"Sod off, ye beet lovin' bugger."

"Gentlemen! Remember you are in the classroom, not aboard the
Prodigal.
"

"Yes, Miss Burke," her errant pupils said in unison. A knock at the door interrupted the intricacies of long division, as Sally entered and asked if she and Mattie could join the master in the parlor. They had visitors.

"Do you know who it is, Sally?"

"It is Mr. Castle, the vicar over at All Saints, and his wife and they have their little girl with them."

Mattie looked intrigued at the idea of visitors. It would be her first encounter with the locals and she was no longer just a rough-and-tumble crew member of the
Prodigal Son
. Learning to navigate the rocky shoals of society was a task Mattie faced as she grew older. Robert knew this when they took the child from St. Martin to England, and all they could do now was stand by her if there were difficulties as she adjusted.

"Very well, Sally. Please tell Lord Huntley we will be down shortly, and if he has not already ordered tea, ask Mrs. Farmer to prepare a tray."

"Yes, miss."

"Mattie, wash your face and hands. Gentlemen, we are done for now. Here are some problems for you to work on tonight, and we will go over the answers tomorrow."

She passed them each a sheet of foolscap with problems in division, and reminded them that while they could assist one another, it did not mean copying answers.

* * * *

Lydia entered the parlor holding Mattie's hand. The two of them looked so right together that it made Robert's heart stutter. He could not envision any other mother for Mattie. Nanette knew what she was doing putting Mattie in Lydia's care, and Robert sent a silent prayer of thanks to the dead prostitute who'd given him this most wonderful gift.

Robert and Mr. Castle rose to their feet to greet the ladies, and Robert did the introductions. He'd been suspicious when Braxton announced the visitors, but Martin Castle and his wife Susanna, a round woman with a substantial bosom Robert couldn't help but admire, appeared to be pleasant, ordinary people.

It was rather refreshing to socialize without worrying overmuch over about whether your visitors would attempt to kill you.

Their daughter Nell was quiet and sat patiently as the adults conversed while waiting for the others. Nell was flaxen haired and pink like her mother, and looked to be close to Mattie's age, but smaller. Given that the vicar was a good head shorter than Robert it was to be expected.

Mrs. Castle seemed fascinated by the earring Robert wore, and he couldn't resist giving her a wink when he caught her peeking, causing her to rosily flush. What was the fun of being a pirate if you couldn't brighten up the afternoon of a country lass, even if it went no further than a wink?

Now Mattie greeted their adult guests and walked straight over to Nell.

"I am Mattie St. Armand. Do you want to play pirates?"

Nell's eyes grew big as blue saucers and she nodded eagerly. "Oh yes, please! I want to be a pirate ever so much!"

"I'll be Anne and you can be Mary. Jolly--he's my puppy--was digging in the garden this morning--it might be buried treasure!"

"Mattie, Nell needs to ask permission of her parents before going off with you," Lydia corrected the child gently.

"Playing pirates sounds like a perfect idea," the vicar said with a smile. "There are many sunny afternoons, Miss Burke, when I'm sitting in the study wishing I was off playing pirate instead."

Susanna Castle reminded the girls not to go far, and had a hug from her daughter before the two skipped off to plot mayhem, passing Braxton and the maid with cakes and tea sent up from the kitchen.

Robert motioned the butler over. "Tell Paget to secure the weapons locker, Braxton. I would hate for the small pirates to become carried away with their adventures."

"Yes, m'lord."

Braxton was in his element, setting out the gleaming silver service for tea. He had a new spring in his step as Huntley was restored to a semblance of its former glory. If there were still moth-eaten draperies in need of refurbishment, at least the tables were dust free and freshly waxed, the windows sparkling in the autumn sunlight. Robert relaxed against his chair, watching Lydia pour from where she sat at the tea table. She was every inch the lady, far better than he could have ever hoped for with his dissolute ways. He could have won a bride with his looks, his social graces, his title and, of course, his money. That was never in question. He could not have hoped to win a woman like Lydia though, someone who would stand toe-to-toe with him and tell him when he was full of bilge-water.

Taking his role as lord of the manor no longer filled him with dismay or displeasure. He would always leave a part of himself on the water, but he'd brought home from his island adventures two of the greatest treasures he could imagine, a daughter of his heart, if not his name, and a woman whom he hoped would take his name and his heart for herself. When you added that to his already bountiful blessings--his amazing good looks, his
savoir faire
, his skill with his blade and the disposal of most of his enemies, he had much to be thankful for. He'd lived his life prodigally, but his welcome back to his home was all he could have hoped for.

He realized the vicar had been speaking while he ruminated and brought his attention back to the man.

"Yes, Mr. Castle, you can expect to see me at church this Sunday."

There was a rattle of china from across the carpet as the governess righted her fumbled teacup, fortunately empty yet.

"You startled me, Captain."

"That's right, you were a sea captain until recently, were you not, Lord Huntley?"

"I've been at sea for most of my life, trading here and there, but when word reached me of my brother's passing I knew I had to return to Huntley and take up my responsibilities."

Lydia still looked as if she expected a bolt of lightning to shoot down from heaven and fry him where he sat, so he ignored her and focused on his visitors. The vicar looked pleased at his intention to come to church. With his livelihood tied to the manor and its lord it meant a great deal to have the baron sitting in the family pew.

"It will be good for the village to have you join us, my lord. The past years since your father's passing have been difficult. The economic situation and the bad harvests have affected all of us, and the situation here at Huntley--" His voice trailed off but the frown on his placid face filled in the rest.

"Miss Burke, do you have family in this area?"

"No, I have lived in the West Indies for some years now."

She neglected to add where her family was, but the Castles said nothing and the talk turned to the village, its needs, and Robert asked about some of his tenants and gathered information on their situations. He could see Lydia warmed to the Castles and he asked them to supper, with Nell, in two days' time. Lydia sent him a look of approval and his chest expanded at her glance. It was the most prosaic of actions, inviting the vicar and his family to dine, but like a hug, it was one of those things that a man could do to demonstrate that he wasn't the worst candidate for marriage to cross her bow.

The girls bounced in, grimy and grinning from their piratical adventures, a furry white bundle weaving in and out and yipping in excitement. A promise of cakes after clean hands were presented sent them scurrying. Mrs. Castle looked at Robert, and she wouldn't have been human if her eyes hadn't darted to Lydia, but Mattie's heritage was written on her skin.

"Your daughter does not share your name, my lord? Forgive me, but it will be bound to come up in conversation in the village."

"Mathilde was born in the islands," Robert said easily. "Her mother died, so my daughter came to England with me."
And that's all anyone needs to know
was the unspoken remainder of that sentence.

"She seems to have found a fellow pirate with our daughter," Susanna Castle said easily. "If you bring her into town, Nell will introduce Mattie to the other youngsters. We have a village school, ma'am, and I teach the young children there. Perhaps you could visit sometime and speak about life in the islands?"

"I would be delighted to," Lydia said as the girls ran in, marginally cleaner, but enough to pass muster and get cakes to take up to the nursery. When Joan entered with more hot water for tea, Mr. Castle rose and said, "I am loathe to end such a pleasant afternoon, but I have other calls to make before sunset."

"You are welcome to leave Nell with us so the girls can continue playing," Lydia offered, but Mrs. Castle shook her head.

"I am afraid not, not today, but if you bring Mattie to the vicarage tomorrow I know Nell would like to show off some of her dolls. She's been learning to sew their clothes."

"Oh dear," Lydia said, "I'm afraid our sewing lessons are sometimes neglected for more physical activities, but Mattie is learning."

"She is young yet, and full of energy," Martin Castle said. "I would have preferred climbing trees to studying Latin at her age, so I cannot blame her. In fact, I'd still rather climb trees--or play pirate--than write prosy sermons, but now I don't have that freedom. Let the children be children is my motto. Their innocent state does not last long."

Robert wondered how the good reverend would feel about the innocence of children if he saw Mattie's glee when she threw her knife square into the target's "heart." Lydia said that Mattie would be thrilled to visit, and if Mrs. Castle was good enough to watch the girls it would give her a chance to take care of some errands in the village.

"I will accompany you."

It came out more as a command than he'd intended, but he was firm on this point. After what he'd learned from Turnbull and Nash about Wilson, he wasn't about to let Lydia too far out of his reach until the threat was eliminated.

Lydia raised her brows at his tone, but said she'd be delighted to have his company.

"I have an idea," Susanna Castle said with look of pure innocence on her round face. "We could have an assembly in Ashwyn! It would be an opportunity for you to meet more of the people and it has been forever since we have had entertainment."

"You must forgive my wife," the vicar said with an indulgent chuckle. "She does love to dance, and the assembly rooms have been little used in the past years."

Robert knew he was expected to help fund the assembly rooms, especially if the village was in economic straits due to poor harvests and bad management. When he saw Lydia's face light up at the idea of dancing, and her animated discussion with her new friend, it was no hardship at all to say yes.

The ladies chatted together in the entryway while waiting for the gig to be brought around. It was misting again, and when Nell came down she was bundled into a coat with a scarf around her neck. She petted Jolly and listened to Mattie explain how she received the dog, and the two fathers watched fondly as the girls talked.

"It is good for Mattie to have friends her own age," Robert said. "I did not know how well she would settle here, but she and Nell seem to have found common ground."

"It is good for all of us to have you settled here, my lord. The land needs a steward who will preserve and care for it. When that happens, everyone prospers. Our proximity to the T&M makes us an area primed for growth, but the people still look to the local leaders for direction. One hears tales..." The vicar's voice trailed as he turned to Robert with a smile and said, "Your success as a sea captain precedes you, my lord. A little excitement in the village is a healthy tonic now and again. Just not too much excitement."

"I will do my best not to show up at church with a brace of pistols in my hands and a dagger clamped in my teeth," Robert said.

"The little boys will be sorely disappointed," Castle said as he put on his hat and helped his family into the cart.

"I will see you tomorrow, Nell!" Mattie called.

"Bring your cutlass, Mattie!"

"No," said four adult voices simultaneously, then with a laugh, Castle started his placid horse down the drive to their next visit.

Robert looked at Lydia and Mattie waving goodbye,
just like a family.
He liked that. It made a spot in his chest feel warm and safe, as if he was back in the parlor in front of the fire, not standing in a cold mizzle.

"Mattie, if you're not too worn out from playing, we still have time for knife practice."

"Out in the elements?"