Tangled Hearts (13 page)

“My ma isn’t here,” Searc countered, “and I’m not abandoning the lass to you.”

“Bloody hell. To me?”

A small grin played on Searc’s mouth and he shrugged. “Lady Meg told me not to let you steal an English lass’s heart. I have to stay.” The tabby cat stretched along Searc’s bed and purred loudly as if to emphasize the point that they weren’t leaving.

Ewan snorted but frowned, thinking of all the trouble she fell into. “Ridiculous excuse. Dory is very capable of protecting herself.”

But she certainly seemed to be able to handle herself around him. Nay, her heart was not in jeopardy like the other lasses he’d encountered, with their sweet smiles and soft hearts. She was so far removed from the ordinary woman, it was like comparing sheep to Gaoth. Aye, the lass was a fighter.

“If things get more dangerous, you are going home even if I have to knock you out and tie you to your horse.” Ewan pushed off the wall with his boot and strode out the door.

His room with Dory was down the long corridor that spanned the perimeter of Hampton Court. Would she still be asleep? It was early. Would the bar be in place as it should? Doubtful. He stopped before the door and listened.

Voices? Voices!

The door swung in without any obstruction. A man stood before the fire, naked from the waist up, his back to Ewan. For a split second he thought he was in the wrong room until the man bent to kiss a head of tangled, gold-shot curls standing before him.

Ewan’s blade sang as he slid it from its scabbard, ready to draw death. His warrior’s blood thrummed through his ears, narrowing his focus on his enemy. “What the hell is going on?”

“Ewan?” Dory’s voice came from behind the giant.

Ewan strode across the room, the point of his blade extended, even with the man’s jugular.

Dory leapt between them. “Stop! It’s Will and the captain.” She flapped her hand toward the bed where the older man from the tower cell sat. He gave a brief nod, but didn’t rise to defend his son—crew member—or whatever the half-naked bastard was.

Ewan’s gaze took in Dory’s white sleeping gown, the thin material barely concealing the dark circles around her nipples. Will yanked her behind him as if Ewan was a threat to her. How dare he even touch her.

“Stop pushing me around,” Dory huffed and jumped back around the pirate. “Ewan, put down your sword. Will, step down.”

When neither of them moved, Dory huffed again. “Captain Bart? A little help here.”

“This is as much fun as watching Will dance swords with O’Neil,” the old man said.

Ewan saw the pirate captain stand from the corner of his eye.

“The guards brought them an hour ago. They almost wouldn’t leave them without you being here to protect me,” Dory said.

“They bloody hell shouldn’t have,” Ewan said, never breaking eye contact with the shirtless man. “And why doesn’t he have a blasted shirt?”

Dory pointed to a pile of rags in the corner. “Soiled beyond repair. I’ve sent Tilly in search of something that will fit them.”

It was rare that a man equaled the brawn of a Highlander, but Will Wyatt did. And Ewan wasn’t about to let him continue to parade it around Dory. Never mind they’d grown up together, and the bloody man had dressed and undressed her.

Ewan’s teeth ground together but he forced himself to walk to the press where he’d left his satchel. He yanked out a clean shirt. “He’ll fit in mine.”

“Not likely,” Will said, his accent as mixed as Dory’s.

Dory rolled her eyes and took the shirt from Ewan. “Thank you.” Her eyes met his for a breath. There was so much in them that he couldn’t read. Mysteries, secrets… lies? Her lips came together and those gray orbs flashed a silent plea for patience before she turned.

Ewan watched her dress Will as if he couldn’t do it himself. And Will let her! In fact he smirked at Ewan over Dory’s head as she tied the front. The old man just chuckled. Dory turned and sent a silent “thank you” to him.

She wouldn’t be thanking him if she knew how close he was to making sure her Will never got the wrong idea about her attentions again. Didn’t she say she couldn’t heal a limb that had been cut clean off?

Despite his ego, Will fit into Ewan’s shirt. Captain Bart moved to the press and pulled out a simple gown.

“They will calm down faster if you put something on, Pandora,” he said in a low, stern voice that offered no alternatives.

Dory took the heavy skirt and bodice behind the dressing screen, her cheeks as pink as a startling sunset. From the bumps and curses coming from it, she was hurrying into the costume.

“I’ll help,” Will said and took one step toward the screen. Without conscious thought, Ewan stepped before him, blocking his path.

“If she needs help,” Ewan said with deadly pitch, “I will help her.”

“Who the hell are you,” Will turned, his lips in a snarl, “to be helping her?”

“I’m her husband,” Ewan flipped back.

“By the devil’s bitch’s teet!” Dory yelled.

“That’s my Panda,” Captain Bart said and chuckled.

“You are not her husband,” Will insisted.

Had he actually said that? Said she was his wife, as in tied to him forever? He cleared his throat. “To all concerned at court, I am.”

Dory stepped out from behind the curtain with another colorful curse that made her father smile. But Ewan’s focus was on her. Dory’s hair tumbled wildly around her slim shoulders. Unattached sleeves of blue velvet pooled around her wrists. Her bodice looked loose, undone down the back, but the skirts and her trim waist still made her a vision of beauty. Before he could reach her, Dory turned her back to Captain Bart, who gave a curse of his own, but commenced to tighten her stays while she worked on her sleeves.

Will came closer and stared at Dory. “So, you two have been playing married. Does that mean you’re swiving him?”

Ewan stopped, waiting for her to slap Will or stab him or something. Jonet back home would scream to the heavens if anyone spoke like that to her. The word didn’t seem to shock Dory at all. Instead, Dory’s glare turned into a leisurely smile, much like a cat licking cream from its whiskers. “Perhaps I am.”

The fist came around so fast that Ewan reacted completely on instinct. He caught Will’s force with his forearm, redirecting it past him so the man’s momentum made him fall forward where Ewan’s knee caught him in the breadbox on the way down. Will grunted and hit the stone floor.

“Where I come from,” Ewan said to the pile on the floor. “Ye don’t ask a lady something like that.”

“And where I come from,” Captain Bart said, catching Ewan’s attention with another blade, this one in the old man’s hand. “I don’t let anyone touch my Pandora.”

“Apparently ye don’t know about Will’s behavior,” Ewan countered without taking his eyes off the knife. The man might be old, but he was a pirate and a leader. No doubt the man could bury the blade in his heart.

Captain Bart’s eyes flashed with fury as he turned his gaze on Will.

The man cursed as he rose from the floor, a knee bleeding through a cut in his trews. “You had to tell him about that.”

“He didn’t think I could defend myself,” Dory said and shook her head. “Now look, you’re bleeding. I can mend the cut, but I’m not sewing the trews.”

Captain Bart still held the knife, but it wavered between Ewan and Will. “What the bloody hell did you try with my little Panda?”

“Nothing, Papa. He just tried to kiss me.”

Ewan snorted, which earned a sharp hush-or-else look from her.

“I let him know I wasn’t interested,” she finished and crossed her arms. The act made her breasts pop up over the stays so that they were almost falling out of the gown.

“By God,” Captain Bart said, his hold on his patience completely lost, “did he buy you that low cut dress? I don’t care how rich it looks, it’s still not proper. You are no whore, Pandora Wyatt.”

She dropped her arms and turned a scarlet shade. “The dress was a gift.”

“Not from me,” Ewan finished. He didn’t like the low neckline, either. All three men glared at her, but she didn’t wilt. In true Dory fashion, the lass’s chin rose higher. He could see her curse building within her mind. Pirates seemed to take great pride in their foul speeches.

“The three of you… overstuffed with asinine pride,” she started slowly, her voice growing, dripping with contempt. “May your—”

“M’lady? Sir Brody?” a small voice cut through the door and through her curse. “I have your meal.”

Dory shut her sweet lips but continued the cutting glare. She pointed at each one of them as if she held a broadsword. “Do not scare Tilly,” she whispered. “Coming,” she yelled without turning her head. “Thank the good Lord, we’ve made it to breakfast and no one’s dead yet.”

Captain Bart lowered his dagger and Will apparently thought it safe enough to go stand by his leader.

Tilly brought in a large tray with several covered dishes. She stopped suddenly at the sight of the two pirates. Will smiled at her and she blushed. Bloody hell! Was that a giggle? The man didn’t need any more encouragement to cajole a lass. Ewan walked over and took the tray so she could leave.

“Thank ye,” he said and slid a coin into her hand.

Will tore off a chunk of bread and grabbed a drumstick. He tossed a small apple to Captain Bart, who caught it in the air and bit into it without hesitation. How long had it been since they’d eaten?

Dory stood in the middle of the room. “Good, your mouths will be too full to get you into more trouble.” Then she looked at Ewan. “And you, not a word.”

Ewan crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t used to being ordered by a female and wasn’t promising anything. Dory took his silence as acceptance. She began to pace between them all.

“Now what to do,” she mumbled.

“Easy, girl,” Captain Bart said between swallows. “We’ll leave at dark. The
Queen Siren
can’t be far off. They knew you were coming for us.” He gave her a stern look. “Though you shouldn’t have.”

She glanced toward Ewan but then back at her father. “I couldn’t leave you in the Tower, not when you were there because of me.” Her voice had dropped to an almost whisper.

Captain Bart walked over and laid a hand on her shoulder. He looked her straight in the eyes. “I’ve saved so many little girls in my lifetime, of course I was going to save my own.”

Ewan couldn’t see her face, but from the relaxing of her shoulders, he’d bet her eyes glistened. Saving little girls? Did pirates usually save little girls? The captain grinned and wiped her cheek. Hell, had there been a tear?

“I’ve lived a good life, Panda. If my last days were spent in the Tower to save you, so be it. Things have worked out, but I’m mad as a poked shark that you almost made my surrender be in vain with your stunt in the jailhouse.”

“I had to get you out,” she said.

“Like I said, I’ll be meeting Davy Jones soon enough.”

“Not with me helping you.”

“O’Neil will get me someday. He’s getting smarter and I’m getting slower.”

“But Will—” she started.

“Is a half-wit,” Captain Bart finished.

“Amen,” Ewan said, and Will cursed.

Captain Bart ignored them. “He wasn’t supposed to jump into the fight with me.”

“I was helping Dory get away,” he said indignantly.

“I was handling it,” Captain Bart said. “And I didn’t have a young life to throw away.”

“I knew she’d save us if we got in trouble,” Will said.

Ewan turned on him. “You wanted Dory to put her life in danger to come save yer foolish arse?”

“No!” He thought for a moment and grinned at Dory. “I just knew she would.”

Ewan ran one hand down his face. The intrigue was so thick around them that they could choke on it, yet the arse could grin and banter about Dory putting her life at risk. Ewan’s hands fisted. They needed a clear cut plan.

“We will eat our fill,” Captain Bart said as if issuing orders on deck. “Change into decent clothes, borrow some horses, and escape after midnight.” He took Dory’s arm and strode in a circle about the room as if surveying the waters that kept his ship afloat, then kissed her knuckles. “We will be back on the
Queen Siren
within the fortnight, England far behind us.”

Escape? Dory would go with them? Bloody hell! Och, if she wanted to go… hell, she should go. Then she’d be safe from Henry’s wrath for losing the pirates without finding a traitor. Aye, she should go.

“Good,” Dory said and Ewan’s stomach clenched. “I need the box, my box, from your cabin.”

She’d mentioned a box before when he’d discovered her name, but he hadn’t thought to question her about it. “Och,” Ewan broke his silence. “Pandora’s Box?”

Captain Bart stopped in his pacing and looked at Ewan with a grin. “When the name her mama chose didn’t suit her at all, I renamed her.” He shrugged. “It fit.”

“What’s in the box?” Ewan asked.

“A ring and a letter,” Captain Bart said.

“Another ring?” Ewan looked at Dory.

“I haven’t seen it, either,” Dory said as if it was a contention between the two. “But there might be some information gained to help us find the king’s traitor.”

“What’s in the letter?” Ewan asked.

Captain Bart shook his head. “I’m not the best reader anyway, and I figured it was private. I never unlocked the box after Katharine locked it.”

“But you saw the ring. What does it look like?” Ewan asked. If Katharine had taken the ring from the third traitor, it could look like Boswell’s ring. Perhaps the letter said who it belonged to.

The man scratched his forehead. “A rose etched into it. Gold, I think. I didn’t get a good look at it. She had it hidden and only brought it out to lock up.”

Ewan’s stomach tightened and he caught Dory’s eye. “Is the rose white?” Could Katharine have been a secret Yorkist, one half of the feuding Plantagenet families who caused civil war in the time of Henry’s father? Even though the years of Tudor rule had lessened the threat, Henry was still very suspicious of any whisper of threat to his throne.

Captain Bart shook his head. “Just gold from what I remember.”

“We need to get it,” Dory said, her gaze lingering on Ewan. He hated to see her look so worried, but any other emotion would have been a mask, of which she had plenty.