Silence caught her breath, but Michael merely laughed. “Bored, sweetin’? We’ll have to do somethin’ about that, won’t we?”
He turned and started back into his room.
“Where are you going?” Silence asked as she hurried to catch up.
“Always demandin’ answers, isn’t she?” Michael murmured to the baby.
Mary looked back over his shoulder. “Mamoo.”
“Aye, yer mamoo,” Michael drawled as he opened the door to the corridor. “A lovely lady, I must admit, but a worrier, too, wouldn’t ye agree?”
Mary had her fingers back in her mouth, listening to this blather very seriously, but she took out her fingers to point to Harry and Bert, standing guard in the corridor. “ ’Ert!”
For some reason Mary had taken a liking to the cantankerous man.
“Aye, Harry and ‘’Ert’ shall come with us, as well,” Michael said to her, nodding to the two men.
The guards looked at each other and then fell into step behind Silence.
She lifted her skirts to lengthen her stride—Michael’s long legs were eating up the corridor.
“Now, I always find a bit o’ fresh air quite invigoratin’,” Michael continued. “Mind, we can’t have ye out in the open—too many bad men about, see? But we do have a bit o’ fresh air at the back of the house.”
He came to a stairs and clattered down them, the trailing parade following. The stairs opened up into the kitchen and Archie the cook turned in surprise at their entrance.
But Mary Darling wasn’t paying attention to the cook. “Goggie!” she exclaimed, holding both hands out urgently to Lad, who’d been dozing by the fire.
“By all means,” Michael replied amicably, as if he and Mary were having a conversation. “Let’s bring the mutt with us, as well. He’s almost presentable now that he stinks o’ roses.”
The whole procession—Lad included—tromped into a small courtyard.
Silence looked around. The courtyard was paved excepting for a lone patch of dry earth in the middle. On all four sides it was bordered by tall brick buildings. Opposite the door to the kitchen was an ancient arched tunnel through the lower part of one of the buildings.
“Where does that lead?” Silence asked.
Michael glanced at the tunnel. “It lets out on an alley. No need to worry. There’s a gate on the other and two guards in the tunnel.”
Silence nodded, watching as Michael placed Mary down next to a wooden bench set against a wall. “Have you always had to live like this?”
“Like what?” he asked.
Mary was already making her way determinedly toward Lad.
“This.” Silence waved a hand about the courtyard. “With guards and high walls and constant vigilance?”
He straightened and looked at her. Bert and Harry had followed Mary like lumbering nursemaids, attempting to keep her from poking Lad in the eye. She and Michael were, for a moment, by themselves in a corner of the courtyard.
“No.” Michael turned his face up. It was near noon and the sun was straight overhead, shining down into the little courtyard. But in an hour or so, the tall walls on either side would shield the sunshine. Only in the middle of the day was the courtyard lit thus.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
He shrugged restlessly. “The more power a man has, the more enemies he takes on, as well, I’ve found.”
“Really?” She frowned down at the cobblestones beneath her feet. “Have you ever thought that it may not be worth it? Your stealing?”
He cast an ironic glance her way. “And will ye be reformin’ me now, me darlin’?”
She pursed her lips at his mockery, but lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “You have piles of riches—I’ve seen them.”
“A man may never have too many riches.” His mouth firmed irritably.
“Of course he may,” she said. “You have enough to feed and clothe and house yourself and your men, what more do you need?”
His eyes narrowed. “Easy for one who’s never been without to say.”
She paused at that. It was true that she’d never gone hungry. But Mickey O’Connor had riches stacked in his palace! “Surely you no longer need to steal?”
“I could become a fat farmer, d’ye mean?”
“No.” She couldn’t even picture him as a country squire, fat or otherwise. “But there must be some other work you could take up?”
“Such as?” he asked silkily. “Would ye make me a shipbuilder?”
Well, that was a ridiculous idea.
“I don’t know!” She planted her hands on her hips in exasperation. “But the life you lead is dangerous. Surely you realize this. It’s only a matter of time before one of your enemies finds you—or you’re brought before a magistrate for thievery. Why not leave this life while you can?”
“Worried about me, darlin’?” His words were flippant, but his look wasn’t. For a moment Silence thought she saw vulnerability deep in those black eyes. Then he looked away. “Ah, best not to worry for me, m’love. I’m a pirate and a pirate has but one end in this world.”
“What’s that?” she whispered, feeling dread.
A corner of his mouth kicked up. “Why, the end o’ a rope, what else?”
Silence shivered, though the sun’s rays were warm in the courtyard. She imagined him swinging from a hangman’s rope, his strong, lean body jerking in the throes of death. Something inside her couldn’t bear the thought. Michael O’Connor had once been her enemy. No one had ever hurt her as deeply as he had. What he’d done to her—to William and their marriage—could never be forgiven.
But that was before. Before she’d come to know him, before he’d come to know her, for that matter. She knew that he might be a very dangerous pirate at the present, but once upon a time he’d been only a boy, small and vulnerable and with no one to take care of him.
The fact was that some part of her would wither away should Michael O’Connor leave this world.
Silence wrapped her arms about herself. “That’s it, then? You’ll simply wait to be caught and hung?”
Michael cocked his head. “Oh, there’s no waitin’ about it, love. I’m livin’ a full and happy life, in case ye haven’t noticed.”
“Are you?” She watched as Harry threw a wooden ball he’d produced from somewhere on his person. Both Mary Darling and Lad started after the ball. “You have your men and your riches, but you have no family, do you? Is that all that you want out of life?”