Page 14 of The Tempest
Maude sighed heavily. “I shouldna have said such things tae ye,” she said. “I was angry ye weren’t willing tae follow me tae sea and I let that get the better of me. I’m sorry, Payne. Truly. I dinna mean any of it.”
She may have been apologetic, but Payne realized that he wasn’t in a forgiving mood. The hurt he’d felt those years ago, something he thought he’d managed to overcome, was threatening to come forth again, like a scar that had been reopened.
A wound that never went away.
“And ye never thought tae tell me?” he said with some agitation. “Ye wait until now?”
Maude could see how upset he was. Not that she hadn’t been expecting it, but it was taking courage to face it. “The years have been very busy for me,” she said. “Keeping yer grandfather’s legacy alive. So much depends on me, Payne. I wish I could tell ye all of it.”
His head came up, angrily. “Whatdepends on ye?” he demanded. “What about a son ye disowned? Am I not more important than the ships ye command or the people ye rob?”
Maude was starting to struggle. “Look behind me,” she said. “All of those men depend on me tae make them money. Most of them have families. Did ye ever stop tae think why I continued yer grandfather’s legacy? It was because an entire world revolves around Medusa’s Disciples, and I have a moral obligation—”
He cut her off loudly. “Amoralobligation?”
“Aye, a moral obligation tae continue yer grandfather’s profession so these men can send money home tae their wives and children,” Maude nearly shouted at him. “Dunna judge me, Payne Matheson. Ye did it ten years ago and that’s why I told ye that ye were dead tae me. Ye have no right tae judge me when ye serve at Blackchurch and train men tae kill and sack and conduct all manner of underhanded warfare. Dunna pretend tae be so noble because yer hands are as dirty as mine, only in a different way. If ye canna see that, then ye’re lying tae yerself. And I dinna raise a fool!”
Payne was eyeing his mother stiffly. He didn’t like anything she’d said, but the problem was that she was right. Well, mostly. Blackchurch’s reputation for training the very best warriors in the world also meant they knew how to do all manner of underhanded warfare. Whatever it took to win. Some people thought Blackchurch was without honor because of it.
And Maude knew it.
Payne postured a little, tightening his jaw, his features contorting with rage, but he didn’t snap back at her. She was glaring at him with those pale blue eyes that had the ability to drill holes through a man. He’d feared those eyes when he’d been a child. Truth be told, he probably feared them now as well. He was about to say so when he caught a flash of a body from the corner of his right eye and instinct told him to duck.
It was a good thing he did.
Declan had thrown a wild punch at his head.
The momentum of the swing, and the miss, carried Declan a few feet away. He nearly lost his balance, but he recovered quickly, whirling around to face Payne, who had assumed a defensive stance.
“She’s come all the way tae lay an earldom in yer lap and all ye do is fight with her,” Declan said angrily. “I’ll not let ye treat her that way.”
For Payne it felt like old times, facing off against Declan again. There were sixteen months between them, close enough that they couldn’t remember life without one another, but also close enough that Declan resented Payne for having been born first. It had always been that way, and the old dynamic hadn’t changed over the years and was probably going to get worse now that Payne had inherited the Lismore earldom.
“Shut yer yap, Declan,” Payne said, an enormous balled fist ready to launch at his brother’s head. “This isna yer business, so stay out of it.”
“I willna!”
Maude put herself between the pair. “Declan, enough,” she said. “Go back tae the wagon and bring the lass. But keep her tied up because she’ll try tae escape if ye let her, so carry her. I want yer brother tae see what I’ve brought him.”
Declan was furious. “And ye give him a princess?” he said, incredulous. “Can ye not see what an ungrateful whelp he is?”
“I can see what a jealous one ye are,” Maude said steadily, pointing an imperious finger in the direction of the wagons. “Do as I say. Fetch the lass.”
Declan went, but he was deeply unhappy about it. He glared at Payne as he walked past him and Payne didn’t lower his balled fist. He was taller than Declan, and more powerful, but Declan was nothing to be trifled with. He made a hell of a pirate.
The man was a killer.
As he watched Declan walk away, he caught sight of his youngest brother. Francis was far less confrontational and, in fact, was quite congenial, which made for an odd situation given the profession he was in. When their eyes met, Francis grinned and headed toward Payne, giving Declan a wide berth. When he came within range of Payne, he launched himself at the man, hugging him happily. The reaction of Payne’s two brothers to his appearance could not have been more different.
“Payne,” Francis said, squeezing the breath from him. “Declan may not be glad tae see ye, but I am. I’ve missed ye.”
Payne hugged the man tightly. “Ye are a pain in my backside and every time I see ye, I want tae take a stick tae ye, but I love ye madly,” he said, releasing Francis and clutching the man’s face between his two hands. “Thank God ye’re alive and well.”
Francis was beaming. “That is what life on the sea does tae a man,” he said. “I’m bronze like a statue and twice as strong.”
Payne chuckled, mostly because Francis had never been terribly strong, but he was, indeed, bronzed by the sun and the elements. He patted his brother on the cheek and dropped his hands.
“Are ye happy, at least?” he asked.
