Chapter Three
Brody’s leg hurt like hell and all he wanted to do was sit down, but he had to keep going. The tide was already starting to come in, making it hard to walk in the water. A better idea would have been to stay put somewhere until morning. However, after touching that stupid wall, he couldn’t help feeling something for Gwen.
Was it just the power of suggestion? He never thought a ridiculous legend could come true. But Gwen had felt it, too. There was a connection between them. He’d felt it but didn’t want to admit it to her. After all, he was just a pirate and she was the daughter of a fisherman who wanted to take off every blasted pirate’s head. Brody couldn’t blame her father either.
Just thinking about the kiss they’d shared made his lips tingle. It was the oddest thing. Then when he’d pulled Gwen into his arms, he felt as if he’d known her forever. Aye, there was no doubt in his mind she was the only girl for him. He didn’t quite understand it. Mayhap, he was just feeling randy since he’d been living at sea with no women in sight.
He watched her walking in front of him. The last rays of sunset over the water, casting a golden glow over her body. With her long, blond curls released from their confinement, her hair bounced back and forth with every step she took. She was dressed in the clothes of a boy, but it didn’t matter. His eyes focused on her tiny waist and the round curve of her bottom end. He’d felt her womanly curves when he’d pulled her into his arms. And when he saw her hard nipples pressing against her clothing, all he could think about was bedding her. Aye, it was only lust. He needed to push it from his mind.
She stopped in her tracks causing him to walk into her. He reached out and steadied her from falling. Or, mayhap, it was to steady himself. After being almost drowned twice in the past few days and not having enough fresh water or food, his body was breaking down. He felt lightheaded and his leg throbbed. He needed to find somewhere to sit down before he fell over.
“Sorry,” she said, looking back over her shoulder with those big, blue eyes. So innocent, yet at the same time filled with courage and vigor. “I didn’t mean to stop so quickly, but I was wondering if we should move to higher land. The tide is coming in fast. I’m not sure if we’ll make it all the way to the port before we’re swept out to sea.”
“We won’t,” he told her, knowing all along it wasn’t a good idea. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out of the cave and away from his bad memories, he would have been thinking with a clear head. He looked up the embankment, recognizing this rocky ground. “We’ll go up there,” he told her. “Just atop the hill, there is a place called the Three Gulls Inn. We’ll go there for the night.”
She strained her eyes to see the area, nodding in agreement. “Yes, I remember that inn. It is also a tavern. My father and brothers used to go there every time they came back from a fishing trip. My mother used to warn me not to go inside. I snuck in once and saw my father and brothers drinking with a bunch of men. The men all wore red head cloths, ragged clothes, and some had black hats. They scared me. They all carried swords. They also had wooden chests filled with coins that they were counting. My father and brothers were doing it as well.”
“Sounds like pirates to me.”
“Don’t say that.” She headed up the embankment and he followed. “You think everyone is a pirate or has some dealing with one.”
“It is possible.”
She stopped in her tracks and turned around. “What’s possible?”
“That your father and brothers had dealings with pirates. It’s no secret that the coasts of Cornwall are filled with them.”
“I don’t want to ever hear anything like that again about my father and brothers. Do you understand, Brody – Brody – what is your surname?”
“I don’t know,” he told her. “No one ever used surnames when I was a child. I don’t think I even have one.”
“Everyone must have one. I’ll just give you one then.” She crossed her arms over her chest and surveyed him from head to toe. His body heated under her perusal. “What was your father’s name?”
“I called him Father.”
“What did your mother call him?”
“She called him Father, too. I think they did it for my benefit since I was a young child.”
“Then that won’t work.” She tapped her finger on her chin in thought. “Banks.”
“What did you say?”
“Banks. Brody Banks. I found you in the water and we landed on the banks together. So that’s what I’ll call you.”
“All right, Gwendolen Fishman.”
She made a face. “I don’t like to be called Fishman.”
“You’re the daughter of a fisherman. That’s your name.”
“Still, I wish it could be something else.”
“Then how about Banks as well?”
Gwen froze when she heard what he’d said. His dark eyes drank her in and her heart skipped a beat. Why would he say a thing like that? Unless he was asking her to marry him. Surely, that’s not what he meant. Feeling insecure and, at the same time, intensely attracted to him, her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to answer.
What if he did mean he wanted to marry her? Mayhap he was falling in love with her after touching the wall and just didn’t want to admit it. And what if she told him she was contemplating the thought of being his wife? Nay. What was the matter with her? She barely knew him. And he was a pirate! Her father would most likely kill Brody the next time he saw the man since he hated pirates. And if she decided to marry one without confronting her father first, he might kill her as well.
“We’d better hurry if we’re going to make it to the top of the embankment before total darkness sets in.” She turned on her heel and started to climb the rocks. When she glanced back, she noticed his eyes on her backside. That made her smile. Something did happen in the cave whether he wanted to admit it or not. So, mayhap the legend of Kael and Aelwen wasn’t such nonsense after all.
They made it to the tavern quickly. When Gwen realized Brody was limping even more, she put her arm around him and they entered through the front door of the establishment.
“That’ll be a half pence each,” said the guard at the door. He held a piece of wood in his hand. After collecting the entrance fee that would help pay for any damages should a fight occur, the man would test the coins to see if they were real, by bouncing them on the wood.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any money,” said Gwen, looking at Brody.
“Don’t look at me. It’s not like my crew loaded me down with coins before they made me walk the plank,” Brody mumbled.
“Walk the plank?” The man lowered the board to his side. His eyes scanned the room. He leaned over and whispered in a rough voice. “Pirates are free. Go on in.”
“What makes you think he’s a pirate?” asked Gwen.
“Don’t ask questions.” Brody took her by the elbow and escorted her into the tavern. “Now, let’s just hope that food and ale and a room for the night are free for pirates as well.”
Gwen gripped on to Brody’s arm, frightened by what she saw. Drunken men that were rugged and dirty lifted tankards and bottles to their lips. A few of them had whores on their laps. The place smelled like wood smoke from the fire in the hearth. The rushes under their feet were soiled. The smell of urine mixed with alcohol made her want to retch.
“Let’s find a table.” Brody pulled her over to a small table in a dark corner, plopping down on a chair, running his hand over his injured leg. The cloth was bright red with new blood.
“You’re bleeding again,” she said. “We need to find help.”
“There’s no one here that’ll be interested in helping me.”
“I’ll go ask.”
His hand clamped around her wrist. “Take a seat, sweetheart. If you go out into that sea of sharks, you’re nothing but fresh bait.”
She looked over to see all the men staring at her. Pushing her long hair behind her shoulder, she wished now she’d had it tucked into a cap so they’d think she was a boy. “I suppose you’re right.” She sank into a chair opposite him. The place was noisy and smelly. She didn’t like it here. It reminded her of the time she’d seen her father and brothers in here. That was the night her father saw her and threatened to punish her if she ever told her mother.
Brody grabbed two tankards of ale from a serving wench’s tray, handing one to Gwen.
“You need to pay for that,” said the woman, putting one hand on her hip.
“Keep track. We’ll pay later. And bring us some food.” Brody took a swig of ale.
“We don’t take credit from strangers,” spat the woman.
“Brody’s not a stranger. He grew up in Cornwall,” Gwen told the woman.
“Brody?” A man came over when he heard the name.
“Aye, that’s my name.” Brody took another swig of ale, looking over the rim at the man. Then he slowly put the cup down on the table. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Brody, it’s me. Edwin,” said the man. “Don’t you remember your old friend? I wondered what happened to you all those years ago.”
Gwen watched Brody wince in pain, then lean his head back against the wall. His face went white and his eyes closed. He either passed out – or he was dead.