Page 18

F or two more days Isabella managed to remain largely silent in Martin’s presence, focusing her entire attention on Adelaide.

Though Martin and Adelaide were getting closer by the day, bonding over music despite Isabella’s warnings, Isabella maintained her distance, refusing to speak a word to her husband if she could help it.

All she had to do was keep it up for the entire journey, and she would be free to marry whom she chose.

On their fifth day at sea, Isabella sat on deck, surreptitiously watching Martin manage his ship while her sister rested below.

Why was she so affected by the sight of a competent man at work?

She never would have expected the teasing coxcomb to be such a good captain.

Seeing him shift from mischief and nonsense to brisk efficiency made her insides clench with something she refused to name or acknowledge.

“Halfred, what do you make of that sky?” Martin asked, standing on the raised platform of the aftercastle with a wiry older man with a steel gray beard.

“I don’t like the look of those clouds, my lord. There’s a storm brewing. Mark my words.” The two of them stared up at the gathering darkness ahead, even as the sun brightened the sky behind them.

Isabella couldn’t help but follow their gaze. The clouds looked like great tufts of wool smeared with soot. That didn’t bode well, but if any captain could weather a storm, she was sure Martin could. The thought made her shake her head. Since when did she put such faith in this bothersome man?

“Think we can avoid it?” Martin asked.

“No, my lord.”

“Neither do I. It’s moving too fast.” Martin stepped to the front rail of the aftercastle.

“Clovis, Wymond, trim the sail,” he boomed in a clear voice that carried the length of the ship, despite the buffeting wind.

“Pascal, Ned, and James, check every corner of this ship and lash down anything that isn’t secured.

Ulf, steer us east. We need to be in deeper waters to ride out this storm, or we’ll risk running aground.

Will, come here. I have a special task for you. ”

Everyone hurried to carry out their assigned tasks with brisk efficiency.

It was like watching the inner workings of a windmill, the seeming chaos of wooden cogs moving in concert to achieve the single aim of moving a grindstone.

Yet again, Isabella was forced to admire the obvious skill with which Martin led his men, not that she would admit any such thing to him aloud.

A youth of no more than twelve or thirteen with blond curls peeking out of his brown woolen cap practically flew to Martin’s side.

The boy beamed at having been called upon for a special assignment, his eagerness to please written plainly on his face.

Martin said something to the boy in a low murmur that Isabella couldn’t hear, and the boy hurried down from the aftercastle, making straight for her.

“My lady,” the boy said in a voice that cracked halfway through the words, He cleared his throat and tried again in a lower register. “My name is Will. Lord Martin says I’m to take you below and play chess with you and your sister while we ride out this storm.”

Isabella looked up at her husband, who was deep in consultation with Ulf, paying her no attention whatsoever. “Chess?”

“Have you not played it before, my lady? If you haven’t, I can teach you.” Isabella returned her attention to the boy before her. He was bouncing on his toes in his eagerness to please. “I’m very good at it. I’ve even beaten Lord Martin once or twice.”

Something about Will reminded her of her brother, even though the two looked nothing alike. Maybe it was the sheer youthful enthusiasm he too had possessed at that age. She couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’ve played chess many times, and I would be delighted to play with you. Let’s head down to the cabin.”

She made her way down the hatch and into the dim light belowdecks, past the hammocks where the sailors slept, to the cabin door.

She knocked before entering. “Adelaide, it’s me. I’m bringing someone with me.”

“Come in,” her sister called out.

“Let me, my lady.” Will hurried around her to open the door, bowing deeply.

“Adelaide, this is Will.” Isabella gestured to the boy, who bowed deeply again. The two of them must have been around the same age.

“There’s a storm brewing, and the captain asked me to keep you company. He suggested we play chess. Do you play, my lady?” he asked, addressing Adelaide.

“Not really. I know the rules, but I’m rubbish at it. Maybe I’ll play the lute while you play, Isabella.”

“As you wish. Lady Isabella, will you join me?”

With a nod, Isabella settled herself on one of the simple wooden chairs next to the small round table in the center of the cabin.

Will opened a cabinet built into the ship’s bulkhead and pulled out a cloth bag and a roll of leather before closing it again.

He then unrolled the leather on the tabletop, revealing the painted squares of a board.

One by one, he pulled beautifully-carved wooden chess pieces from the bag, placed them on the board, and then sat down once the board was set.

“You go first, my lady. I’ve given you white.”

“Very gallant of you,” she said, smiling.

How very different it was to play chess with this guileless young boy than with Lady Eleanor.

With Her Grace, Isabella always felt as if she was being tested.

A game was never merely a game. She rather liked playing for entertainment for once.

Picking up the king’s pawn, she moved it to the center of the board. “Your move.”

She was a pawn, she thought, as Will countered. Lady Eleanor had certainly treated her like one, discarding her for a minor strategic advantage when she could have done so much more. It rankled that after everything they had been through together, Her Grace thought so little of her.

“Is everything all right, my lady? You look upset.”

With a sigh, she wiped her face clean of expression and put on a smile. “Merely overthinking things,” she said, bringing her knight out to threaten his pawn.

“Do you miss your home?”

“Heavens, no,” she answered with a bit too much feeling.

Will nodded sagely. “I understand. I don’t miss my home either. The best day of my life was the day Lord Martin took me into his service. You’re very lucky to have married him. He’s such a good man.”

A good man? Lord Martin? With all the outrageous things he said?

But then she thought about his actions, as well as Adelaide’s words when they argued.

Martin had no reason to pander to her wishes, and yet he had offered her a way out of this unwanted marriage.

He could have taken advantage of her on their wedding night, but instead he’d handed her the poker to defend herself.

When he saw her frowning at the storm clouds, he arranged for company and distraction.

He was undeniably kind to her sister. And this boy before her clearly revered the man, as did her sister, despite her warnings.

Was it possible that she was wrong, and that the baron wasn’t all bad?

No. She couldn’t afford to entertain such thoughts.

“Do not worry, my lady,” Will said as he thwarted her next move by castling. “Lord Martin will bring us through the storm. He’s the best captain there is.”

“I’m not worried,” she answered, putting on a smile despite the faster beat of her heart. “I’m sure he and the crew know what to do.”

“If anyone can get us through the storm, it’s Lord Martin. He’s as brave as any man I’ve ever known, and he knows the sea like no one else.”

“Oh? What has he done that you think him so brave?” The man was intelligent and obnoxiously witty, and his easy confidence was enviable. But bravery was something else altogether. It required action, not just a general air of brashness.

She moved her queen out. It was time to show this boy how the game was played. “Check,” she announced.

Will was forced to block with a knight.

“We were attacked by pirates two years ago,” said Will, as she took his knight and threatened his remaining bishop.

“Check,” she said, certain that the game was hers in the next two moves.

The boy looked up at her and nodded in respect. “Well played, my lady.”

“You were saying you were attacked by pirates?”

Moving his bishop to block, Will continued, “Yes, my lady. They came upon us just after we left Dublin, throwing clay jars of stinging lime onto our deck to blind us. Lord Martin sent Pascal up to the crow’s nest with his bow and arrow to pick off who he could, then sent everyone except Halfred belowdecks to arm ourselves, and get ready to plan a counter-attack. ”

The ship lurched, nearly knocking over a few of the chess pieces, but Will caught them quickly and righted them. Adelaide gave up on playing and secured her lute in a cabinet with a latch.

Unbidden visions of water rushing in from all sides and engulfing her, dragging her under to the fathomless deep, made her heart skip a beat, but she forced herself to take deep breaths and tamp down the burgeoning fear.

She was safe. The ship was sound. Martin would not let her drown.

Well. Maybe he would, but she doubted her doubt in spite of herself.

“By the time we came back up,” Will continued as if nothing was amiss, “he and Halfred had sliced through all but one of the ropes the pirates used to lash our ships together, and my lord was battling three men with swords who had climbed over while Halfred cut the final rope. I’ve never seen a man move so fast. Before we could come to his rescue, he slit one’s throat, kicked the next one overboard, and wounded the sword arm of the third, disarming him. ”

“My goodness,” Adelaide exclaimed.

“Heavens,” Isabella said at nearly the same moment. He must have been quite the fighter to prevail under such circumstances.

“And that wasn’t all. The pirate he disarmed begged for his life. By all rights, Lord Martin should have dropped him overboard and let the sea take him, but he had mercy.”

Isabella’s eyebrows shot up. “He had mercy on a pirate ?” They were the scum of the earth and the scourge of the seas. Surely Martin wouldn’t have granted clemency to such a blackguard.

“He did indeed. He gave the man a choice between swearing fealty or being thrown overboard. Cian is part of our crew to this day, and he’s proven himself loyal many times over.”

“You mean to say there’s a pirate aboard this ship right now ?” Was Lord Martin mad?

The ship lurched again, and this time the game did topple over.

Chess pieces went rolling across the floor, and Will dove after them.

It was all Isabella could do to stay seated.

Adelaide, over on the bed, was starting to look green again.

Dear Lord in heaven, they were going to drown. This was the end.

“Perhaps you had best sit on the bed, my lady,” Will said as his stool toppled over and started sliding across the floor. Her own threatened to do the same.

She stumbled to the bed next to Adelaide, grasping her sister’s hand and bracing herself against the bulkhead. She prayed fervently this wasn’t their last day on earth.

Will abandoned the chess pieces and instead pulled off his belt to lash the two stools to the little table, which she now realized was nailed to the floor.

“There. That should keep them from rolling around and hitting us.” He put the chess set away in its cubbyhole and secured the latch before he staggered over and joined them on the bed.

Even he was starting to look alarmed at the violent rocking and creaking groans of the ship.

This was not how Isabella intended to end her days, and she certainly wasn’t going to let her sister or this boy see her confidence waiver.

“Take my hands,” she said, reaching out to the two youths. “We’re going to get through this together. Lord Martin will keep us safe, or I’ll have his head.”

The wide-eyed boy cracked a smile at that. “I’m sure you will, my lady.”

“Does that mean you’ll start speaking to him again?” Adelaide teased.

“Hush,” Isabella said, rolling her eyes.

She squeezed their hands as the boat juddered in the waves once again. “Tell me more about this madman I’ve married who lets pirates join his crew. How did you come to be here?”

She might as well learn as much as she could about her enemy while she had the chance. Perhaps the boy would know something that would help her rid herself of her husband once and for all.

The ship bucked and bobbed like the little boats she and her siblings used to make out of leaves and float down the stream when they were little. How long could this vessel last, taking such a beating?

Swallowing hard, Will squeezed her hand. “L-Lord Martin… whoaaah …” They all slid into each other as the ship gave a particularly violent jolt.

Isabella wrapped arms around both of them to steady them. She was about to ask Will to continue when someone began pounding on the door.

Will staggered across the room to open it, and in came Martin, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to every curve of his muscular form as he carried in the limp form of a tall, thin man with a ghastly gash on his forehead.

Perhaps Will’s stories of heroism held some truth.

He certainly looked like some demigod from ancient legend as he strode in, steady despite the tossing of the ship.

As he met her gaze, his eyes blazed with command and determination.

Gone was the teasing twinkle to which she’d grown accustomed.

It was like she’d never seen him before.

The man before her radiated a strength and power she’d rarely beheld, and her breath hitched as he closed the distance and towered over her.

“Stand aside, ladies. I need the bed,” Martin ordered in a voice that brooked no dissent.

Clinging to the bulwark to steady themselves, she and Adelaide vacated the bed as requested. Heat coursed through her at the command in his voice despite the frigid air. She braced herself against the creaking side of the ship, thinking that the sea was not her only danger on this stormy night.