The Sea Witch Page 7

  Newton smiled. Aye. That would frighten the lass. She'd never been one for filling her head with female notions. Feelings for a man would be unsettling for a lass like Ambrosia. Especially a man like Riordan Spencer, who seemed to be her equal in both strength and daring.

  Newton touched a hand to the small, deadly knife he kept tucked beneath the waistband of his breeches, a throwback to his days at sea. Maybe he'd just keep an eye on Riordan Spencer. If this newcomer had anything other than Ambrosia's best interest in mind, he'd answer to Newton's blade.

  smooth enough. " Riordan ran a hand over the board being offered by one of the seamen hired on to help with the repairs. "Newt?" He turned to search for the old man, who had been put in charge of a crew. "Where's Newt?"

  "He said he had a chore to see to this morrow, Cap'n, " one of the seamen shouted.

  Riordan gave a sigh of disgust. "Have this one planed again. And we'll need more hot pitch to seal those seams. "

  "Aye, Cap'n. " The seaman repeated the command, and the sailors laid the plank across several rocks and began smoothing and planing it.

  Another crewman, stripped to the waist, applied hot pitch to the hull of the Undaunted.

  Like the others, Riordan had stripped off his shirt, baring his torso to the sun. The weather had grown steadily warmer, as spring turned into summer in Cornwall.

  Riordan had no trouble finding men willing to work. Most of the sailors were eager to help with the repairs. The sooner the ship became seaworthy, the sooner they could return to their first love. Weeks spent on land had them itching to feel the deck of a ship beneath their feet and the sting of salt spray against their faces.

  Riordan lifted a hand to mop the sweat from his brow and paused to stare at the small boat just sailing into his line of vision. It was much smaller than the Undaunted. But a tidy craft, with its sails unfurled and billowing in the fresh breeze. As he watched, one of the crew climbed the mast and unsnagged a line, then swung down to the deck with all the grace of a dancer.

  A second crewman stood at the helm, guiding the boat through the shallows. It took a master sailor to maneuver the submerged rocks hidden along the Cornish coast. Many a ship's captain had discovered too late that his hull had been ripped from stem to stern by such dangers.

  While Riordan watched, two sailors climbed the rigging and began lowering the sails. The sight of it stirred his heart.

  With its sails trimmed, the sleek craft slowed, then headed toward the shore of a private cove a few hundred yards distant.

  As it passed, Riordan blinked, then found himself staring in openmouthed surprise.

  The three crewmen were dressed like any other sailors, in tight-fitting breeches tucked into tall boots, hair tied back with colorful scarves, the sleeves of their shirts billowing in the breeze. And though the men around him seemed to take no notice as they continued to work, Riordan became acutely aware that these were unlike any sailors he'd ever seen. For one thing, they were small. Smaller than the two white-haired men seen standing on the deck. For another, the breeze flattened their shirts against their bodies, revealing curves where there should be none.

  After shouting orders to continue working, Riordan began running along the shore. By the time he reached the secluded cove where the boat had anchored, the crew had already leapt over the rail to trudge through the shallows to the beach.

  "I thought as much. " With his arms crossed over his chest, he watched as Ambrosia offered a hand to Darcy, who had been tugged to her knees in the surf.

  "Riordan. " The two women paused and glanced at each other in consternation.

  His gaze was fixed on Ambrosia. Her clothes were thoroughly soaked, and plastered to her like a second skin. Despite the coarse shirt, her breasts were clearly visible, drawing his gaze against his will. Her face was sun-kissed and smudged with dirt. Her hands were callused from holding the wheel against the pull of the waves. For it had been Ambrosia who had guided the boat through the dangerous shallows. With a skill he was forced to admire, no matter how grudgingly.

  Bethany, coming up behind them, tossed an armload of weapons into the sand and came to an abrupt halt.

  He stared down at the weapons, then up at the faces of the three women. "What's this?"

  "Work. " Old Newton trudged through the water and dropped to his knees in the sand. "If they're going to take on the family business, they need to prepare themselves. "

  "The family business. " Riordan nearly laughed. "Did you think a morning's sail would be enough preparation?"

  Ambrosia lifted her chin, unwilling to respond to his sarcasm.

  Geoffrey Lambert was the last to reach shore. Huffing from exertion, he sat down in the sun-warmed sand. When he caught his breath, he said, "They were a bit out of practice. But I think, by the time the Undaunted's ready, they will be as well. "

  "You think?" Riordan's smile was wiped away, replaced with a ferocious scowl. "And what if they aren't ready? Will we have another funeral in the village church? Will we mourn a few more of the Lamberts? I would have thought you of all people, Geoffrey Lambert, would be honest enough to tell these three females that what they're planning is nothing more than a foolish, empty-headed scheme. "

  Ambrosia's eyes blazed. "I'll remind you, Captain, that you remain here at the invitation of three foolish, empty-headed females. "

  He pointed a finger in her face. "And I'll remind you, Ambrosia Lambert, that I am here by choice. And I will remain here only so long as I choose. "

  Old Newton stepped between them. "Now is not the time, Cap'n. The lass's blood is still hot from the fighting. She's had quite a challenge this morning. " He turned to Ambrosia. "As for you, lass, you're keeping the cap'n from his work aboard the Undaunted. "

  When she started to open her mouth, the old man shook his head and gave her a look she'd recognized since childhood.

  Without a word she clamped her mouth shut and turned away to retrieve her sword. Then, with her sisters following, she trudged through the sand toward the house.

  Riordan stood watching. But though anger still made his blood run hot, he couldn't help wondering if it was further fueled by the sight of her backside in tight-fitting breeches. She was, by far, the most beautiful sailor he'd ever seen.

  When he turned back, he saw two old men watching him. Without a word he turned and stalked away.

  "Where is Ambrosia, Mistress Coffey?" Fresh from a bath, Riordan was prepared to try once more to talk some sense into one very obstinate female.

  "She's in the parlor, Captain. "

  "Thank you. Would you mind sending Libby in with some ale?"

  "I'm not sure ale would be appropriate, Captain. They're having tea. You might want to... "

  She swallowed back her protest, since he was already striding away. With a shrug she rang for the maid. He'd find out soon enough that Ambrosia wasn't alone.

  Riordan stepped into the parlor, pausing on the threshold when he realized that Ambrosia and her sisters were entertaining guests.

  "Excuse me, ladies. I didn't realize you weren't alone. "

  Ambrosia glowered at him for a moment. Then, seeing the way Edwina Cannon's face lit up at his arrival, she decided to have some fun.

  "Riordan. Come in. I'm sure our guests would love to visit with someone who has been to so many fascinating places. "

  "I wouldn't dream of intruding on your... " He turned and realized that Libby was right behind him, bearing a tray with a pitcher and tumbler.

  "Here's your ale, Captain Spencer. " She brushed past him and placed it on a side table.

  Seeing his uncertainty, Ambrosia crossed the room and took his arm. "Riordan Spencer, may I present Edwina Cannon and her mother. "

  He gritted his teeth while managing a smile. "Miss

  Cannon. Mistress Cannon. " He recognized the younger woman as the one at the church who'd been attempting to draw as much attention to herself as possible.

  "So, Captain. " Edwina patted the place beside her on the chaise. "Come
and tell us about all those fascinating places you've seen. "

  He pretended not to notice her invitation. Pouring himself a tumbler of ale, he stood by the fireplace. "Most of my journeys have been rather dull. "

  "Nothing could be as dull as life in Land's End. " Edwina's mouth turned into a pout. "Please, Captain. Tell us about the world beyond Cornwall. " She held out a hand and he had no choice but to accept it and take a seat between her and her mother. "Have you seen India?"

  "Aye. " He sipped his ale and decided to go along with this little charade. Especially since Ambrosia was wearing such a smug look on that pretty face.

  She looked the picture of a proper lady, in a gown of palest pink, her hair tied to one side in fat sausage curls that fell over her shoulder and spilled across her breast. In her hand was a cup of tea.

  Tea. It made him want to laugh out loud. Those same hands had earlier held a ship's wheel.

  Ambrosia's sisters were equally fetching. Not at all the wet, tired, dirty urchins that had tumbled from their boat on the beach that morning.

  He wondered how much effort it had cost them to prepare for this little visit. From the looks on their faces, they'd been caught unawares and had been forced to work quickly to make themselves presentable.

  He turned his attention to Edwina. "You'd find India fascinating, Miss Cannon. It's a land of such contrasts. Rajahs, as wealthy as any king, being carried through the streets. Vendors selling delicacies. The scents of rich spices wafting from the bazaars. Dazzling women hidden behind veils. "

  "Oh, how I envy you, Captain. " Edwina gave him one of her sweetest smiles. "Have you been to the New World, as well?"

  "Aye. " He leaned back, stretching out his long legs, crossing his feet at the ankles.

  Edwina moved closer until her shoulder brushed his. When he saw the way Ambrosia's eyes narrowed, he merely smiled. If it was revenge she wanted, he could do the same. And use this situation to his own advantage.

  "In fact, I was in the naval attack against the Dutch when we captured New Netherland and claimed it for England, renaming it New York. "

  "You were, Captain?" Even her mother was caught up in the excitement.

  Across the room, Ambrosia sat up straighter. Why had he never told her this? Perhaps, she realized with a twinge of regret, because she'd never bothered to ask. She'd been so wrapped up in her own problems, she'd never given a thought to Riordan Spencer and the life he'd lived.

  Edwina touched a hand to his. "How wonderful. What did you think of the New World?"

  "It's a splendid land. Savage and quite beautiful. I'd like to return one day. I think, given time, it could rival England and France. "

  "You must be joking, Captain. I've heard it's completely uncivilized. "

  "Aye. But as more people make their way to its shores, they'll bring their cultures with them. It could become unlike any other country we know. Think of it. French, English, Spanish, all living under the same rule, swearing allegiance to the same country. A country without a monarch. Where the laws will be made by the people themselves. "

  Edwina closed a hand over his and looked into his eyes. "Please, Captain, tell us more. You must have so many interesting stories to tell about the places you've been and the people you've seen. "

  He forced a smile. In truth, though he enjoyed the look of annoyance on Ambrosia's face, he'd had enough of Edwina Cannon. The sound of her voice set his teeth on edge. The sweet, cloying fragrance of rosewater was so strong even the scent of ale couldn't hide it. He much preferred a low, breathy voice. And the faintest hint of wildflowers.

  He extricated himself from her clutches and crossed to the tray, where he poured himself more ale. "I'm afraid, Miss Cannon, that I haven't led the life of excitement , you might expect. "

  "That's not what my fiance, Lord Silas Fenwick, had to say. He said your life has been nothing but colorful, Captain Spencer. "

  Riordan studied her with new interest. "You're betrothed to Silas Fenwick?"

  "They're to be wed in London, " her mother announced proudly.

  "And when is this momentous event to take place?" Riordan sipped his ale, hoping it would cover the bad taste that had suddenly materialized.

  "Silas thought we might be wise to wait until winter, when all his important friends will have returned from the country. "

  "A wise decision. " Riordan glanced beyond the guests to where Ambrosia sat in silence.

  Edwina followed his glance. "I was telling Ambrosia and her sisters that Silas knows your family, Captain. It's a pity about your inheritance. " Riordan went very still.

  Seeing it, Ambrosia felt a wave of regret. She'd trapped him into staying in the parlor because she was tired of Edwina's silly prattle. But she hadn't intended this.

  She jumped in, hoping to steer the conversation to a more comfortable topic. "I'm sure Riordan would much rather talk about his travels than discuss his private affairs. "

  "Not so private, I assure you. " Edwina covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "Silas says everyone in London knows about it. "

  "That may be true, Edwina. " Ambrosia set her cup down with a clatter and got to her feet. "But I assure you, most would have the good sense not to discuss it in Riordan's presence. " She caught the young woman by the elbow, nearly lifting her out of her seat. "I do believe we'll have to end this visit, as lovely as it has been. Mistress Coffey needs our help in the dining room. "

  Edwina pulled herself free of Ambrosia's grasp and turned to Riordan. "Goodbye, Captain Spencer. I'm so glad I had this opportunity to meet a man of such mystery. "

  He glanced down at her outstretched hand and lifted it to his lips. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Cannon. It would seem that Silas Fenwick has found... the perfect partner. "

  She was still giggling as she followed her mother and the others out of the parlor. As soon as they were gone, Riordan drained his glass and poured another. When Ambrosia returned minutes later she found him standing in

  front of the fire, staring into the flames. On his face was dark, shuttered look.

  "I'm sorry, Riordan. I didn't intend any of that."

  "No need to apologize, Ambrosia. This wasn't your fault."

  "But it was. I wanted to get even for that little scene at the beach. And I thought..." She shrugged. "I can't think of anything worse than being forced to make conversation with Edwina Cannon. But I never dreamed that even Edwina could be that thoughtless."

  "No harm done. Whatever she's told you, it's probably he truth. The life I've chosen to live was considered disgraceful by my family. And I've no one to blame but myself." He turned away and set his glass on the tray. Then he looked over at her. "Tell Mistress Coffey that I won't be taking dinner with you and the others."

  "Where are you going?" She hated the bleak look in his eyes. And hated even more the thought that it was her carelessness that had put it there. "I believe I'll walk to the village. Maybe chat with the crew."

  He walked from the parlor. A minute later she heard the front door open and close.

  It was her turn to stare into the fire. And wonder why her little revenge tasted like ashes in her mouth. She tried to tell herself that it was merely because she was too tenderhearted to cause harm to anyone, even if it had been unintentional. But there was a nagging little fear that it went deeper than that.

  Was she beginning to care too much for Riordan Spencer? She sincerely hoped not. For if he were to discover such a weakness in her, he might use it against her. After all, he'd made no secret of his dislike for this plan of hers. If all it took were a few sweet words and stolen kisses, a man of his reputation wouldn't be above using such tactics to dissuade her. Especially since it would mean that he'd get to captain the Undaunted without the interference of others.

  The days passed in a blur of work. For Riordan the clear, sunny skies over the Cornish coast meant that he and the seamen could work from sunup to sundown without interruption. Within days the charred wood had been replaced with fresh sturdy bea
ms. The hold of the Undaunted had been bailed out, and a crew had been put to work sealing the cracks with hot pitch. All the rips in the sails had been mended, and they now lay bleaching in the sun while the mast and riggings were checked for damage.

  Newton slid down the mast after having carefully examined everything. His lips split into a wide smile. "She's better than new, Cap'n."

  "I think you're right, Newt. From the looks of her, she's ready to set sail."

  The old sailor squinted into the setting sun and watched as the Sea Challenge sailed into view. "The Undaunted's not the only one ready, Cap'n. The lasses are, too."

  Riordan gave him a level look. "You can't mean that, old man."

  "Aye. I do. They've honed their skills until they're as able as any sailor I know."

  "Seagoing skills, perhaps." He watched as Ambrosia brought the sleek craft through the shallows. He would give her this much—she could pilot a ship as well as anyone he knew. "But you and I know that the Undaunted isn't just a merchant ship. How can three women possibly survive in battle?"

  "Ye've had a taste of Ambrosia's skill with a sword."

  "I held back, Newt. I didn't want to hurt her."

  "She claims to have done the same." When he saw Riordan's look of disdain, he added, "And she's even better now, Cap'n. Their grandfather and I have been working the lasses with sword, knife and pistol. I'd put them up against anyone, even the king's own soldiers." He started in the direction of the cove where the Sea Challenge was just setting anchor. "I promised to give the lasses a hand when they docked."

  "You mean they can't manage by themselves?"

  Riordan's sarcastic tone had Newton turning. "They took their grandfather along. Geoffrey Lambert needs a bit of help getting to shore is all."

  At once Riordan regretted his comment. Reluctantly he joined the old man. When Newton looked over, Riordan gave him a wry smile. "I've grown a bit fond of the old fellow myself. Wouldn't want to see him fall overboard."

  When they reached the small craft, the three sisters had already lowered the sails and were busy gathering up their weapons. Ambrosia was helping her grandfather over the side of the rail.