Minerva didn’t seem the slightest bit apologetic as she planted her hands on her hips. “I do not keep secrets from my sisters, Mr. Haversaw.”
He winced. Wonderful. His little warrior couldn’t keep a secret. He supposed it was too much to ask that she abide by the request he’d made clear to her father. That no one be aware that the pirate who confronted Minerva was not, in fact, a pirate.
He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment as he pondered how best to handle this situation. And by situation, he meant her.
The girl who’d singlehandedly ruined his plans.
He dropped his hand to study her. She looked even more beautiful in the light of day, albeit far less wild with her hair so neatly tucked away as it was, and far more dangerous in an entirely different sort of way.
“Er, Miss Jones,” he started.
“Oh, do call her Minerva,” the blonde said. “And I am Abigail.”
She reached out a gloved hand, and he and Caleb stared at it for a moment too long. Belatedly he grasped it in his own, but...gads. How long had it been since he’d been called upon to use civility?
Perhaps that would work to his favor at the ball. If he acted like a man raised by wolves then surely none of the visiting nobility and gentry would connect him to the heir to an earldom who’d died at sea...even if he did bear a striking resemblance to the current earl.
He scratched at the back of his neck with a grimace as his dilemma came back to him in full force. He supposed he could recruit the captain to help him even though the captain had made it quite clear that he resented Marcus’s suspicions when it came to his officers.
Understandably.
Marcus would have cut down any man who accused one of his crew members of such dishonorable conduct. Certainly he ran a crew of thieves but, as the saying went, there was still honor amongst them.
Even so, he’d need assistance for this next portion of his plan, and he had no way of knowing who he could trust.
“Pardon me,” Minerva said.
He blinked as he realized she was still eying him steadily. “Er, yes?”
Curses. He truly had lost all ability to be sociable, indeed. He’d forgotten entirely how to speak to a pretty young lady.
“It seems I chose the wrong time to bother you,” Minerva said, her voice just a touch too sweet to be genuine. “You seem to be otherwise occupied with your thoughts.”
He choked on a laugh. “My apologies, miss. Was I—?”
“Staring? Yes,” she finished.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Minerva—” He did not miss how her lips twitched with irritation. No doubt she was not pleased that Abigail had taken it upon herself to make them better acquainted. “I suppose I was surprised to see you here, that is all.”
That, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.
He kept that last part to himself.
She was already eyeing him like he was some predator. He couldn’t say that he blamed her. Even with his beard neatly trimmed and his hair combed, he was a far cry from the upright young officers he’d seen parading through town this morning.
He was too old, for one. Not ancient, but not a youth anymore, either. He nearly snarled at the memory of that officer from the other night.
Minerva shifted, tugging at her gloves. “Yes, well, I was hoping to have a word with you.”
He stared at her in incomprehension for a moment. Curses, he truly was losing his wits if this little wisp of a lady was stealing his tongue at every turn. It was only...
He glanced over at an equally bemused Caleb. Neither of them were accustomed to proper young ladies seeking them out and asking for a word. They were not what anyone might call ‘approachable.’
And then there was the fact that he was in a pub. With a man who looked even more fierce and brutal than he did on his very worst day. But his little Min was not just unfazed by being this close to two brutes, she seemed positively...comfortable.
Her chin tilted higher. “Well, Mr. Haversaw?” She glanced around meaningfully. “I had hoped we could hold this discussion somewhere a little more private, but if you wish for these men to overhear—”
“No,” he said quickly, reaching for his hat and cramming it on his head as he snagged her by the elbow and led her toward the far corner, still in sight of the others but where no one could hear.
“Will your sister be all right with my, er...my associate?” he asked, glancing back at the utterly demure young lady beside his scowling rogue of a mate.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” Minerva’s eyes glinted with mischief and he let out a huff of a laugh at her meaning.
“What I meant was, my friend is extremely trustworthy, but not all ladies would be comfortable being left alone with him.”
“She is hardly alone.” She grinned. It was quick and sudden and ended before it started.
But the sight turned his entire world upside down.
Chapter 6
It was decided, Minerva thought, as she shoved down a ridiculous urge to laugh. This man was the oddest creature she’d ever encountered.
And the most interesting, a voice unhelpfully pointed out.
She shifted her weight and cast a quick glance over at Abigail, who was smiling beatifically at the poor scowling man who looked as though nothing in life had prepared him for the impossible kindness that was Abigail Jones.
“Abigail will be just fine,” she said. “It is your friend I’m worried about.”
Mr. Haversaw’s brows shot sky high but she did not give him a chance to answer.
“I was hoping to run into you here.”
“Is that so?” His lips curved up in a lopsided grin that made her think that he was far too conceited. And that perhaps she ought to have broken her fast this morning after all. It would certainly not do at all if she were to swoon.
“So you were not just in the neighborhood then,” he said, a smirk teasing his lips as he meaningfully looked around at the gentlemen who made up the clientele of this particular establishment.
She bit her lip. Her father would not be overjoyed to find she had come here alone. Well, with Abigail, but even so...
Her pirate—no, not her anything. He was merely Mr. Haversaw, whoever that might be. But the man in question arched a brow as if he knew what she was thinking as he followed her gaze to the room behind them. “Are you certain you should be here...with me?”
She let out a little snort of amusement. “Really, Mr. Haversaw. You attacked my person while we were alone together in a cave and now you worry about propriety and my reputation?”
He had the good grace to wince with regret. “I am sorry for what happened the other night,” he started.
She held up a hand. She could tell all the proper words were coming and she had no time for them. “Apologies are all well and good, Mr. Haversaw, but that is not what I am here for.”
“You’re not,” he said.
“No, sir. I am here for something far more valuable.” She paused to take a deep breath and added a bit of a dramatic pause quite by accident. “An explanation.”
He blinked once as if the word were foreign. “An explanation?”
“Yes. That is correct. I believe that you owe me an explanation.”
Something shifted behind his eyes. She couldn’t say what, but she saw it clear as day. “Well, as I told your father—”
“Oh no, you mistake my meaning,” she interrupted. For this would not do. “I do not wish to hear the story you told my father. You see...” She held his gaze evenly. “I prefer the truth.”
He hesitated but he did not blink or try to shift his gaze away. If anything, his gaze grew more intense, his scrutiny so fierce she felt as though some outer layer was being stripped away so she was left bare before him.
Silly nonsense, obviously. She was fully clothed and her skin was intact, and she refused to cower before him. If she hadn’t cowered when she’d thought him to be some ruthless, depraved pirate, s
he certainly would not lose her courage when she knew him to be a fake.
“There is only one type of man I have no patience for, Mr. Haversaw,” she said in a low tone that only he could hear. “And that is a man who pretends to be something or someone that he is not.”
“Really,” he said slowly. “You think that is the lowest a man can sink, do you?” Wicked laughter flashed in his eyes. “Perhaps you ought to meet more men.”
She scowled. “Are you mocking me?”
His smile was so genuine that she nearly doubted herself for doubting him. “Only a little,” he said with a wink that made her stiffen.
“Are you...” She leaned in a little and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you flirting with me?”
His smile widened, but she did not get the sense he was laughing at her, thank heavens. That would have been more than her pride could bear. As it was, she was mortified that she’d even asked it. Of course he wasn’t flirting. She was hardly some belle of the ball, or a great beauty like Abigail.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, but his eyes flashed with mischief.
Her brows drew down. “Now you are teasing.”
“Yes,” he said. “But only a little.”
She frowned as she tried to make sense of that. Make sense of him. What was he about? All mysterious and false one moment and then genuine and teasing the next. It was enough to make her head spin.
Ah, but of course. That was exactly what he intended, no doubt. She narrowed her eyes. “Do not think you can distract me, Mr. Haversaw.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “If that is your real name.”
His eyes widened, only for a second but long enough for her to feel a surge of satisfaction for having gained the upper hand.
Just as quickly, however, he donned a small smile and adopted a smug air that did not suit him. His tone was positively condescending when he reached for her elbow and made as if to steer her toward the door. “What would your father think of you being in an establishment like this?”
She tore her arm away. “What my father thinks is none of your concern.”
“This is no place for such a delicate young lady.”
She narrowed her eyes as the laughter that danced in his eyes when he’d said ‘delicate.’ No doubt he was remembering the way she’d fought him in the cave. She pressed her lips together. If only she’d won.
It was decided. From here on out she would redouble her efforts during her father’s lessons in self-defense. She doubted her father ever expected her to put those lessons to use, she herself certainly hadn’t expected to need them.
She straightened to her full height as she faced his quiet laughter. No, perhaps she was not delicate or dazzling like Abigail. Or demure like Hattie or charming like Rebecca. But she didn’t care what he thought of her.
She’d fought him once and she’d fight him again if the need arose.
His smile broadened as if he could read her mind and he gestured toward the front doors. “Come, let me see you to your home.”
“I do not need an escort through my own town, Mr. Haversaw.” She glanced around pointedly. “This might be a tavern, but it is not filled with strangers.” She turned and gave a little wave, turning back with a smile of her own when a handful of men returned the greeting, their gazes filled with curiosity but no malice. “So you see, Mr. Haversaw. I know every gentleman in this establishment...except for you.”
“Ah.” His gaze turned calculating. “I do indeed see what you mean.”
She blinked. She wasn’t entirely sure what he saw as he seemed to be thinking something else entirely.
“You know everyone here,” he repeated. He said it slowly and she could practically see his mind at work.
She pursed her lips. Why did it seem as though she were no longer in control here? “That’s correct,” she said. “But that is not the point. The point is that I am here for answers—”
“And answers you shall have.” His grin was nothing short of rakish as he leaned in toward her.
She leaned back as he invaded her space. She was in no danger from this man, not surrounded by so many acquaintances, but that did not stop her heart from racing at his proximity. “Really?”
“Truly,” he said. “But it is not a discussion for this place. Please...” He took off his hat again and held it to his heart, his eyes holding a clear question. “Allow me to walk you home.”
She considered it for all of a heartbeat. Would people talk if the visiting stranger was to walk her and Abigail home? No doubt. But she’d already overheard her father explaining this man’s presence in town as an old friend of the family, and so she assumed she was supposed to be acquainted with him. It only made sense, did it not?
Somehow she did not think her father would relish this way of thinking. But then again, he would not be particularly pleased to discover she’d tracked Mr. Haversaw to this tavern and gone inside to confront him.
She bit her lip. Ah, well. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Dipping her head in acknowledgment, she murmured, “Very well, then.”
She was well aware of the looks she and Mr. Haversaw received as he led her to the door, Abigail and Caleb trailing behind. The moment they stepped through the doors onto the main street that ran through the center of town, they both blinked at the glaring sunlight.
And then Mr. Haversaw tripped over children.
“Oh, I, uh—” He stopped and stared down at little Nicholas as though he’d never seen a child before. “I beg your pardon.”
Minerva pressed her lips together and just barely held back a laugh at his overly formal tone with the child. Nicholas’s compatriots surrounded him as they all eyed the stranger in town with wide eyes.
She couldn’t say that she blamed them. Mr. Haversaw certainly was a striking figure. Even groomed and in clean attire, he looked as though he’d stepped off the pages of some illustrated children’s book filled with larger than life heroes and dastardly villains.
She cast him a sidelong glance. Oh yes, he would certainly be cast as the villain.
He shuffled to the side as though he needed to give the children a wide berth. She choked on a laugh as he reached for her arm as if she might need assistance navigating this new youthful peril.
But if his response to the children was stiff and formal, that was nothing compared to Caleb’s reaction. He and Abigail exited the tavern right after them, only to be rushed by the small crew of little ones who flocked about Abigail as though they were sheep and she their shepherdess. Abigail greeted them with her usual cheery smile. “Well, if it isn’t my little army.”
They beamed.
Caleb scowled.
He backed away from them with a fierce glare that they either didn’t see or studiously ignored. Minerva watched in fascination as the largest and most terrifying man she’d ever encountered backpedaled away from the children as though they carried the plague.
“Call off your mutts,” he growled to Abigail.
“I beg your pardon.” She arched her brows in surprise.
He straightened to his full height as Janie, a little girl of six or seven years of age, came up to his knee and tilted her head back to grace him with a toothless smile. “Do you have any sweets?”
The man looked to Mr. Haversaw in confusion before scowling down at the girl. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk to strangers?” He made a shooing motion that did nothing to faze the girl. “Go! Get on with you.”
“Come along, Janie,” Abigail said, grasping the little girl’s hand and leading the small gang away from the two strange men.
“What’s wrong with those kids?” The large man growled. “They should be afraid of me. The little fools.”
Minerva swallowed another laugh as she tried to explain. “I’m afraid your growling and your glares will do no good with this lot, Mr. Caleb—”
“Just Caleb,” Mr. Haversaw interrupted as Abigail led her army toward the street, already heading back toward home where
their sisters would surely be eagerly awaiting them.
“Caleb, then.” Minerva flashed the large man what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “You see, they trust Abigail completely. If she approves of you then they will never fear you.”
Caleb grunted. “Then perhaps your sister is the fool.”
Minerva smiled. “Perhaps. But I don’t think so.” She leaned in closer. “And I dare you to say as much to her face.”
Caleb glared down at her and Mr. Haversaw stepped between them. “I wouldn’t if I were you, Caleb. Miss Jones here gave me quite the fight the other night.” He rubbed at his shoulder as if it were wounded. “These Billingham ladies are clearly fiercer than they look.”
Minerva pursed her lips as she turned her gaze back to the twinkling eyes of her mystery man. “You are teasing again.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Now, why is it that you continue to say that as though it were a bad thing?”
Minerva did not answer. She did not care to admit just how much his teasing unsettled her. It was not as though she had too much pride or an oversized ego, but even so, no woman cared to be mocked by a handsome man.
Or any man, for that matter. But definitely not a handsome one.
She cast a quick sidelong glance in his direction. Not that he was so very handsome. He was attractive, of course. It was an empirical fact that he had pleasing features and warm brown eyes. But he hardly had Roger’s good manners, nor her would-be suitor’s elegance and poise.
Caleb made a low noise that Minerva could only assume Mr. Haversaw was able to interpret because he gave the other gentleman a nod, and he and Minerva watched the behemoth follow at a safe distance behind Abigail and her army.
That left them alone.
Well, they stood on a busy sidewalk. But mainly alone.
“Shall we?” She gestured toward Abigail who was leading the children up the steep hill leading to their home. “My sister and I do not have long before we need to be back for tea.”
“And yet you stole away just to see me,” Mr. Haversaw said lightly. “I am touched.”
“Don’t be.” She shot him a withering stare which made him grin. “This was not a social call, Mr. Haversaw—”
Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap Page 6
