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  “We are all going, Thierry. Would you, too, like to see land?”

  “I will wait here, my liege, and watch over your trunks.”

  “You can have one of the soldiers do that,” Louis said.

  “It is my honor.”

  Louis bobbed his head, and they walked up the stairs to the deck.

  Mamie looked around and saw the ship’s captain coming toward them from the center of the ship. Odo was stuck to his side like a tick.

  “We’ve spotted land, King Louis. Queen Eleanor. We will reach the port of St. Symeon sometime tomorrow. It’s a bigger unloading area, just north of the palace. I will send a craft ahead to announce your arrival.”

  Mamie closed her eyes in gratitude, then opened them again. The late afternoon held nothing but blue skies and white clouds. “Where is land?”

  “This way,” the captain said, taking her elbow and pointing her toward the horizon. “See?”

  Louis peered into the distance. “Oui! Eleanor? Here, step by me.”

  The queen joined her husband by the railing, laughing.

  “I told you that we would make landfall,” the captain whispered close to Mamie’s ear.

  She shivered and gave him an appraising look. Life would go on, and she was in the mood for a kiss or two. His dark beard and flashing eyes enticed her.

  Eleanor turned from the railing and waved. “Everard, Dominus, come join us. We were just admiring that speck of land over there. We are getting closer to Antioch at last.”

  Mamie turned toward the Templars, noticing how Dominus’s expression darkened when he saw the captain so close at her side. She sensed a flash of hurt, as if she had somehow wounded the knight. Ridiculous.

  He had no right to judge her actions. She had done nothing wrong. Yet.

  Chapter Three

  Dominus held his temper close, dutifully admiring the far-off strip of land. Why was Mamie flirting with the ship’s captain?

  “I pray that our men will arrive when we do,” Everard said. The man had a kind heart that would only be hardened with time and experience. “If they are not already there.”

  Or dead. Dominus thought the latter might be more accurate.

  King Louis put his hands together. “My prayers are added to yours. I would like everyone fed and rested. We are on the final piece of our journey but not done yet. The help of the Templars has made the difference between life and death for some of us. I cannot thank you enough.”

  He and Everard stood in uncomfortable silence.

  “Food.” The captain cleared his throat. “For our final meal, can I interest anyone in, hmm, fish?” He spread his arms. “Before you groan, the end of the storm means we can cast our nets and perhaps get some fresh seafood. Hard biscuits and dried fish get old after a while.”

  “No offense intended, Captain,” Mamie said with eyes sparkling and damned cheeks dimpling, “But I have always preferred meat to fish.”

  What was that? A sexual innuendo? It took all his training as a knight to keep still.

  The captain winked at Mamie, but damn it, Dominus saw him do it.

  “The salted fish saved us from starving,” Everard stated. Polite. Kindhearted. Innocent as a babe. God help the man if he ever left the brotherhood.

  Dominus straightened his shoulders, his mouth set. They could not reach land soon enough. He missed the open space of the mountains. Oui, even ducking Turkish arrows.

  “I took no offense,” the captain said, his long hair in dark ringlets that Mamie probably found attractive. “We were not stocked for a long voyage. I miss ale. And good wine. A rich burgundy to go with a haunch of beef?”

  Mamie closed her eyes. “Hmm. Rare. With a dish of crisp watercress with endives and—”

  “Stop! No more.” The queen laughed, holding her ribs. “My hunger is now awake and crying for a feast.”

  “I need a few extra hands to help with the nets,” the captain said. “It is best if they’ve done it before. Less time unknotting the mess later.”

  “I can cast a net.” Dominus regretted the words immediately. He had left his life as a fisherman a long time ago.

  “Excellent!” The captain clapped his hand on Dominus’s shoulder. “Where are you from?”

  Dominus had no choice but to answer—for the most part, he was an honest man. “Byronne. Off the Atlantic.”

  Eleanor smiled. “I know the area. The same side of the sea as Gascony.”

  Dominus hoped she would not say more.

  Such was not his fortune.

  “Where, exactly? I know there are a few independent provinces along the coast.”

  He cleared his throat, putting his hands behind his back. “The village of Brochard.”

  “The village?” Eleanor kept her smile in place, but she finally stopped asking questions. Mamie leaned closer, and he could see she wanted to know more too. All she needed was a twitching tail and some whiskers to be the cat, with him as the mouse.

  “My brothers and I fished,” he offered. Not wishing to share his entire history, he gave a small piece. “We grew up in the water.” His father had been Neptune, ruler of all he surveyed.

  “From fisherman to Knight Templar,” Mamie said with a sigh. “I would love to hear the story.”

  Dominus frowned. “Hardly a romance, created for your entertainment,” he said in tones too harsh. He just wanted her to stop poking into his past. “Rather, a tragedy. My brothers are all dead.” She had, unknowingly, stumbled upon his greatest shame.

  “I should not have pressed.” Mamie folded her hands loosely at her waist. He noticed she’d changed into a different tunic. “I have a curious nature. I am sorry for your loss.”

  Everard patted Dominus’s back. “I will help you fish, brother. Idle hands cause short tempers.”

  Dominus forced himself to relax, though a smile was beyond him.

  Mamie turned her questions toward Everard. “What made you choose to become a member of the Knights Templar? I have heard you must give up everything you own. You are part monk and part warrior.”

  “There was a Templar passing through Paris, and I watched him save a child from being run over by a cart.” Everard told the story with genuine delight. “I was thirteen at the time, working in my grandfather’s tavern. The man seemed as big as the archangel Gabriel come to earth to save this boy. When the knight came into my grandfather’s tavern for something to drink, I knew he was real. I asked him if he would train me to be like him. And he said that if I still wanted to do God’s work as a pious knight, he would find me in a year. It was the longest year of my life. My family could see that I wanted this, and they helped me prepare.”

  “You never doubted that he would come back for you?” Mamie asked, her eyes alight.

  “Non. He did, too. Took me on as his squire and trained me to be my own knight. His name was Peter, and he died in battle years ago.” He paused, his brown eyes dulled with memory. “There are many challenges. Conversing with women is something that we are to avoid, begging your pardon, when possible. Not a kiss in greeting or even a touch.”

  “From any woman?” Eleanor asked, clearly appalled. “What of your family?”

  “It is against the rules. Those of us on this pilgrimage with you from France have received special dispensation, because of the Holy Cause.” He tucked a strand of brown hair behind his ear, smiling once more. “Though we are supposed to do our best. If we seem rude, it is because we know we should keep our distance.”

  “To help preserve your honor?” Mamie asked.

  He gave a curt nod. “To avoid the temptation of a beautiful woman. We are men, despite our noblest intentions.”

  She blushed and looked away.

  “Well spoken,” King Louis said. “I did not realize that your rules of conduct were so strict. Impossible to uphold, I imagine, in the day-to-day business of living.”

  “It is simpler cloistered with the other men,” Everard said, looking to Dominus.

  Dominus nodded, though
he had no idea whether this was true or not.

  The captain called to his mate. “Get these men nets. They’re going to catch fish, perhaps enough for a hearty stew. I know Cook’s got carrots and onions he’s hiding somewhere.”

  Eleanor stepped aside, whispering to Louis, while Odo murmured something and walked away. Mamie drifted toward the railing, her long hair spilling down her back.

  Fay joined them from the queen’s tent, rubbing her eyes. “Is that land?” She clapped her hands.

  “The captain said we will be in Antioch tomorrow,” the young knight offered shyly.

  Fay giggled. “I thought I was dreaming when I heard the word land. I just wanted to rest my eyes for a moment.” She poked Mamie’s shoulder. “That cot is so much more comfortable than the berths below. Thank you, my friend.”

  Mamie turned around so that her back was to the water. “You needed sleep. You woke up in time for the good news. And supper. The captain and our Templars are going to catch supper.”

  Dominus felt her words like a smack to the cheek. He’d been a damn good fisherman, before escaping his father’s ocean duchy in search of his own selfish dreams.

  Finally alone on deck, Mamie looked at the calm ocean, her nerves as tightly strung as a lute. She could easily imagine Dominus in the water. Barefoot, sun-kissed, and laughing. Far different from the somber man he was now. What had changed? Tragedy, he’d said.

  She smelled wine before the captain’s hot breath touched her cheek. He spoke close, his words just for her.

  “You’re a pretty one.”

  Mamie’s brows arched. “Is that so?”

  “Saucy too.” He moved next to her, his arm brushing her side.

  Tingles of anticipation tightened her belly. It had been too long since she’d shared a few hours in passion. The captain seemed as if he knew the way around a woman’s body. The perfect diversion.

  “Just the way I like,” he said, his voice pitched low and seductive. “I would have prayed for your friend, if you’d asked.” His kindness added a layer of fire to her need.

  “Where can we meet?” Mamie asked, her gaze ahead and not on him. “Not now. I need some time to brush the salt from my hair.” And other parts.

  His gaze simmered. “My berth on the stern. Nothing grand, but there is a side door for privacy. I will take a few turns around the ship and meet you there.”

  “Until then.”

  She quickly returned to her tent and struggled out of her cloak. “Help me, ladies. I’ve an appointment with sin.”

  “With whom?” Fay asked.

  “That does not matter so much as the what.” Mamie unlaced her tunic.

  Eleanor smiled, while Larissa shook her head.

  “I do not care what you think, Larissa, or you either, Fay. I need a man in my arms. To prove I am alive and not dead. I am sorry for Sarah and Jonathon and especially the babe.” She put her hand over her belly. Most especially the babe. “And this is how I channel my emotions. With a lover. I highly recommend it.” With each breath, she blinked away tears that threatened.

  Fay tapped the stool she’d been sitting on. “I was not judging you. How dare I? Let me rebraid your hair.” She tsked like a mother hen. “Do you have any rose oil left at all?” Her nimble fingers quickly untangled the heavy mass of red curls.

  Fay sprinkled the rose-scented oil through the tresses, then picked up the tail end of a braid and sniffed. “It is better than it was.”

  “I do not think the captain will be so choosy,” Eleanor said. “His options for pleasure have been as limited as yours, Mamie.”

  “Excellent point. I will bring a basin of water.” As she imagined washing all the captain’s parts, she grinned. “Which could be a game, too.”

  “Everything to you is a game.” Larissa humphed.

  “Life is short. You do not always get what you want, but you can make the best of it.” Mamie dressed with the intent of being quickly undressed, then waved to her friends and left the tent for the captain’s berth on the opposite side of the ship. Each step seemed to take an eternity. She tightened her cloak around her shoulders. Hood up, hair tucked away, she could be anybody.

  Mamie slid behind a barrel of apples as two barefoot sailors with lolling gaits walked past, a heavy stack of nets between them. They spoke a mixture of French and Spanish, something about the men of God thinking they were better fisherman than those born to the sea.

  Mamie wished Dominus well. She had not missed the disapproval in his eyes as the captain stayed close.

  He had no right to disapprove. Unless as a man of God, all he did was judge sinners. She could keep him busy for years, praying for her soul.

  Passing around the captain’s berth to the small door hidden within the ship’s walls, she pressed against a groove and a thin door slid away as if by magic. She’d seen the same mechanism while in the palace at Constantinople.

  She found herself inside the cramped tent.

  The captain sat behind his small desk, his feet propped on a stool. He wore a white linen shirt, unlaced to his navel. Crisp dark hair ran in a thin strip from one tight nipple to the other, and another line went down his flat stomach and disappeared from view.

  Intrigued, Mamie smiled and slid her cloak down her shoulders.

  His eyes, black and sensual, flashed with humor. Just as she liked, too. There was no better sport than two knowledgeable lovers in a round of passion. No hidden agenda, just pleasure gained, pure and simple.

  He stood, shrugging his shirt up and over his shoulders. His lean torso showed a tableau of scars, each with a story to tell. If they were to remain lovers, Mamie would spend the time asking about them. Since her desire would be slaked in one joining, she moved her gaze lower.

  His breeches sat loose on his hips, teasing her senses as she waited for them to fall. He was often shirtless, she noticed. The sun had darkened some, though not all, of his skin.

  “Would you care for a cup of awful wine? Not soured but nothing compared to what you are used to, madame.”

  Mouth dry, Mamie nodded. Why was she hesitating? “Just a sip, to quench my thirst.”

  He passed her the goblet from his desk, and she took a drink, knowing his eyes were on her lips as she touched the rim. She lowered her eyelids in enjoyment, making a small sound of pleasure as she swallowed.

  He shifted from one bare foot to the next, then adjusted the front of his breeches. She handed the cup back, every sense alert. Her breasts grew heavy, and moisture gathered at the juncture of her legs. Too long since a man has looked at me with such blatant desire.

  He placed his mouth over the exact same spot on the goblet where her mouth had been, flicking his tongue along the edge in a teasing manner.

  Oui, Mamie realized, this man would give as good as he got. She touched the ties of the thin chemise at her throat. The fine undergown hid nothing of her body, simply layered it in silk.

  He put the goblet on the table and stepped forward, his hand reaching for her breast. His heavy-lidded gaze increased her hunger, and she arched into his palm. His rough thumb tweaked the nipple, and Mamie fought a groan.

  “You are perfection,” he said, his voice husky. He drew her cloak the rest of the way from her body, letting it fall over his arm. He hung it on a peg by the door, looking his fill at Mamie. “I would have you naked.”

  “I would be naked.” Mamie grinned, giving him a wink.

  He met her halfway—the room so small that four steps had him at her side. A few inches taller than Mamie, he gathered her into his arms. She enjoyed the roughness of his calloused hands, the strength in his grip as he steered her back toward his bed.

  “It is twice the size of my cot, which isn’t to say much,” Mamie mumbled. She pulled at the laces of her undergown, wanting it off.

  “I am sleeping here, since the king commandeered my chamber below. Otherwise we would not be cramped at all.” The captain ran his hands over her shoulders, baring them and helping loose the gown. He decided to go
the other way and lifted the hem, kissing her ankles and calves. The gown puddled around her middle, trapping her knees and arms. He placed a kiss on one pert breast.

  “This could be interesting,” he said, holding her captive. “Or would you rather be loose?”

  “Free me.” Mamie laughed. “So I might participate in our little game.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  A loud series of knocks interrupted them. Mamie lifted her brows. The captain shrugged.

  “I asked not to be disturbed unless there was an emergency,” he said, running his knuckle along her cheek.

  “You are the captain,” Mamie said, pulling her sheer gown up her body. Why did she feel a sense of relief? Frustration, definitely, but the more overwhelming sensation was of a near miss. She swung her legs over the side of his bed. She got up, went for her cloak, and slipped it back on. The captain put on his shirt and tucked it in, though he left his feet bare.

  “What is it?” he growled.

  “It is the nets, Captain. They are caught on the outrigging.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll be right there.” He nodded at Mamie. “I don’t know how long this will take, but I cannot afford to lose another net. Will you wait?”

  Mamie shrugged.

  “I will make it worth your while.” He kissed her lips, his breath scented with wine. As he’d said, not the best wine. Perhaps not the best lover either.

  “When will we reach Antioch?”

  “Tomorrow, midafternoon if all goes well. I live in hope to see you before then.” He lifted her hand and kissed her wrist.

  Swirls of decadent pleasure raced through Mamie’s body, but she made no promises. She’d learned that sometimes these things were interrupted for a reason.

  “Wait for a few minutes, then come out. I will make sure the way is clear.” He gave her bottom a smack. “Although my fervent prayer is that I find you naked in my bed upon my return.”