“No? Then what was this, exactly?”
She hitched her lips to the side. He was teasing again, the dratted man. “You might have fooled my father into believing your intentions here are good, but I do not trust you, Mr. Haversaw. How can I when you do not even use your real name?”
His brows arched in response to the accusation, for which she had no proof, yet she knew to be true. But he did not protest or make excuses and for that she was glad. It was bad enough he’d lied, but if he were to stick to those lies now she would never forgive him.
Not that she planned to forgive him. The man had basically accosted her the night before last, after all.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage at the memory. She wished she could say the feeling that had her heart pounding was fear.
“Truth be told, Min. I am glad you found me. I would very much like your assistance with my current investigation.”
Minerva turned to him in shock. She ignored the fact that he’d not only used her given name—she’d have to thank Abigail for that particular intimacy—but her nickname. No one but her closest friends and family called her Min. But that was not the most shocking part, and she forced her mind to focus on what truly mattered. “You want my help?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I know you to be brave, I believe you to be exceptionally clever—”
“Are you teasing again?” She frowned as doubt warred with burgeoning excitement.
He ignored that. “And most importantly, what you said back there...” He nodded toward the tavern.
She blinked. “What did I say?”
“You pointed out that you are familiar with everyone in this town, and I’d imagine you know every man at that fort, from the lowliest deckhand to the highest-ranking officers. Am I correct?”
She didn’t stop to think. “Yes,” she said. “I am well acquainted with everyone in this town and at the fort.”
He smiled and for a second, all reason fled. His smile was disarmingly charming. Broad and sincere, it made his eyes crinkle at the edges and turned those sparkling dark eyes into something outright mesmerizing. “Then you are perfect for this mission.”
She blinked, his words drawing her back to reality. “What mission?”
He glanced around them, at the officers who passed by with curious looks and to Abigail and her lot who were gaining ground and leaving them behind. “Later,” he said. “I shall explain everything if you meet me later.”
She wanted to say no. She dearly wished she could say she wasn’t tempted. But that would be the boldest lie she’d ever told. For she could not deny that her heart was pounding with excitement at the thought of helping him capture this smuggler.
She should say no. Refuse him and leave him to his adventures.
Instead, she looked him boldly in the eye. “Where would you like to meet?”
Chapter 7
Caleb leaned against the trunk filled with antiquities that they’d intercepted. The pirate and his crew had escaped Marcus and his men but at least Marcus had gotten this much. He jabbed the toe of his boot into the side of one of the trunks as he crossed his arms and eyed the shoreline in impatience.
They’d walked away no closer to knowing the whereabouts or identity of this new ringleader, but they had gotten the loot and, most importantly, the missive from mainland with instructions on where to meet.
Just not whom.
He peered at the fort as though he might be able to suss out the lowlife by sheer will.
“She ain’t coming,” Caleb said from behind him. “The girl probably got spooked and decided to bail on this plan of yours.”
Marcus shook his head. “You don’t know Miss Jones. Minerva.” He smiled as he rolled the name on his tongue like aged whiskey. “Min.”
My Min.
He straightened in surprise at the stray thought and shoved it aside just as quickly.
“I might not know the lass, but neither do you,” Caleb said. “Do you really think you can trust her?”
Marcus nodded. “I know I can. She’s suspicious of me, which only means she’s smart. She’s protective of her family and the members of this town, which means she’s loyal—”
“And you learned all of that from your one night with her, eh?”
Marcus turned back to his friend with an arched brow. “Don’t make it sound so sordid. It wasn’t like that.”
Caleb’s lips twitched with amusement, the closest this man ever came to an actual grin. “What was it like then?”
Marcus turned back to look out at the beach as he thought that over. How would he describe his first run-in with the enchanting Minerva? Exciting? That didn’t seem like the right word. But it was the truth. Meeting Minerva in the cave the other night had reminded him of how he used to feel when he’d first left home. The way it had felt when he’d set out on a grand adventure.
He hadn’t experienced that unique sensation in quite some time. It was more than excitement; it was anticipation. It was opportunity. It was the siren call of an unpredictable future.
He rubbed a hand over his chest where the feeling seemed to stem from. Funny that after so many years without that feeling, he’d discovered it here. In a small town in his home country...with her.
Caleb sighed and shifted behind him. “Give it up, mate. She’s not coming.”
“She’ll be here.” He said it with all the certainty that he felt. “I’m telling you, she doesn’t scare easily.”
“But perhaps she’s come to her senses.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. It was a risk to her person and her reputation to come out here and meet him alone like he’d asked. “But I’d bet that her curiosity outweighs good sense.”
Even before he finished saying it, he caught sight of her. Or, more like, he caught sight of her cloak billowing in the wind. He found himself grinning like a fool as he watched her step lightly over rocks and seaweed. This time, she’d worn boots instead of slippers, but she still looked like a little waif, ready to be swept away by a strong wind or a rising tide.
A sea nymph who’d disappear with the mist when he woke from this daydream.
He blinked. She didn’t disappear.
But she would when he inevitably set sail again. Hopefully soon. Perhaps as soon as the following night if his plan was a success.
The thought was sobering.
He was only vaguely aware of Caleb’s muttered excuses about checking in with the other crewmembers to make sure they were ready to set sail the following night, if all went well. His friend slipped from their hiding spot and along the shore.
“You came,” Marcus said when Minerva reached the cave’s mouth and pushed back her hood. He was oddly delighted to see that some curls had escaped her braided crown. He liked her best like this. When she looked windblown and just a little wild.
“Did you doubt that I would?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not for a second.”
She smiled, and the sight struck him like a blow. She was pleased by his answer, and for some reason, that pleased him.
“So,” she said, her gaze moving toward the crates and trunks still on the floor of the cave. “These are still here, hmm?”
“All part of my plan,” he said, throwing his hands out wide.
She gave him a funny look. “I thought my father had men guarding this treasure around the clock.”
“He did,” Marcus agreed. “Er, he does.”
She looked around pointedly.
Marcus gave her an unapologetic grin. “I may have told the gentlemen that my friend and I had been sent by your father to relieve them. Which”—he shrugged—“is not a complete lie.”
“Just a partial lie?”
“Exactly.” He clapped his hands together, temporarily sidetracked from his mission by the sight of her. “You’re here.”
Judging by her expression, she was unimpressed by his observation. “I am here.” She ti
lted her head to the side. “Are you going to tell me why?” She took a step closer and he felt it. Her excitement. Her energy. She might have been doing a decent job of pretending that she was unfazed, but he could practically feel her heart racing as if it were in his own chest.
“Well?” She arched a brow in challenge and his liking for her grew tenfold, if that were possible. “How do you suppose that I can help you, assuming I believe that your intent is to trap the thieves responsible for this.”
“So suspicious,” he murmured. And rightfully so.
She pursed her lips with a challenging stare.
“Fair enough.” He held his hands up. “You are right that I have not been entirely honest. But if you are truly a good judge of character, I trust that you will believe me when I say that I mean no one in this town any harm. And that I do fully intend to catch the smugglers behind this operation.”
Some of her defensiveness seemed to ebb in the face of his honesty. “And yet you need my help.”
“I do.” He crossed his arms as he considered just how much to tell her. “I am, indeed, a privateer, and I do wish to uphold the law by bringing those responsible to justice...”
“But?” she prompted.
“But I would rather not show my face at the ball tomorrow evening.” He glanced toward the shore where Caleb had disappeared. “And I think you’d agree that my first mate would arouse too much suspicion.”
She didn’t answer. Her gaze was so even, he felt as though she might be able to see right through him. Past the smile that his sister-in-law called ‘jolly,’ and straight through to the empty bits that he tried so hard to hide.
The parts where he kept memories of every tragedy he’d seen. Where he tucked away any feelings of discontent.
He tried not to shift under her unnerving stare, but it was difficult to remain still when he was nearly certain she was tearing through every layer of protection to get to his very heart.
He itched to laugh, to tease, to distract them both from whatever intimacy this was. But in the end, he held still and let her look, let her study...let her judge.
After countless heartbeats, she nodded. “All right; let’s say that I believe you.” She drew in a deep breath. “And let’s assume that I am content to let you keep your secrets as to why you do not wish to be seen.”
He smirked. He had her hooked, and he knew it. This young lady might have the world fooled into thinking she was so very prim and proper, but he knew the heart of an adventuress when he saw one.
“Let us assume that,” he agreed.
Her lips twitched with what he hoped was amusement. “What do you want me to do?”
Aha. Now they were getting somewhere. “First, I need your insights.”
“My insights?” She appeared so taken aback, he thought for a moment that perhaps he’d misspoken.
“Yes, your insights. On the people of this town, the officers who are under your father’s command.”
“You don’t wish to know my father’s insights?” she asked.
“Not particularly.” He did not wish to offend her, but he’d known more than a few men like her father. Good men, to be certain, but they tended to see the world in black and white, and they assumed that those around them did as well.
In short, men like Captain Jones tended to be worldly, wise...and the victims of subterfuge.
When she still looked at him with suspicion, he said, “From speaking to your father, it was clear that not only does he resent my being here on his territory, but he would be more apt to find defenses for his men then to analyze this matter critically and objectively.”
She looked torn between defending her father and acknowledging the truth. “I see what you mean,” she finally said.
He rewarded her honesty with some truth of his own. “Aside from that, I think the less your father knows about tomorrow night’s plan, the better. And I would prefer that he not be privy to the fact that I wish to remain anonymous.”
She was silent for a long moment. “But you trust me with this information?”
“I do.” He met her gaze evenly but tried his best not to show just how much that shocked him.
He did trust her. Heaven knew why, but he did.
Now he just needed her to trust him. Based on nothing more than this connection between them and her judge of character.
“What would you have me do?” she asked.
He summed it up concisely. The lie she’d have to tell, the way she’d be expected to keep watch on who was rattled by the lie, or who acted suspiciously.
She interrupted, her voice filled with shock. “You want me to tell everyone that I've persuaded my father to leave these treasures unguarded so that all the officers might dance with my sisters and I?”
“And so that no one should miss the visiting gentry’s pretty speeches,” he reminded her, only half teasing.
She blinked those wide eyes rapidly. “No one would think me so foolish.”
He grinned. Indeed, she didn’t seem foolish in the least, and everyone likely knew it. But when it came to what men knew to be true and what they wanted to believe, the former rarely won out.
He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “You'd be amazed what lies men will accept from a beautiful face.”
To his surprise she jerked back, frowning at him. “You're teasing again.”
“I am not,” he shot back.
Her stricken expression, the anger in her eyes made it clear. She did not believe him. Something in his chest fell with a thud at the realization that she did not know it, she did not see. He took a step closer and lifted her chin with a finger, pleased beyond belief when she did not pull away. “You are beautiful.” He’d meant it to sound charming. Flirtatious, perhaps, but not seductive. He’d meant to make her smile.
Instead, it came out like a growl. The very opposite of charming.
She swatted his hand away. “Of course I’m not.”
“Of course you are.”
“I’m not. No one thinks so.” Her brows were drawn down in irritation.
He clamped his jaw shut but it was no use. “I am telling you that you are.”
And now they were bickering like children.
She blinked, her lips parting. “Are you...scolding me?”
He lifted a shoulder. Yes. He supposed he was. “If that is what it takes to make you see clearly then yes.” He crossed his arms, belatedly seeking some air of ease. “It’s irritating when women underestimate their own charms.”
“But I’m not...” She sputtered and then stopped. “No one says that I’m beautiful. Abigail, yes, and Rebecca, undoubtedly. Hattie is obviously considered—”
“You are beautiful, Min, and you’ll have to take my word for it.”
She looked as though she might argue.
Never in his life had he expected to argue with a woman over her beauty, but there he had it. This woman was like no one he’d ever met before, and her stubbornness somehow made her all the more enchanting.
He was also bizarrely enraged that she was so blithely unaware of her own appeal. Certainly she was not the same as her pretty sister, but had she really not considered that not all men wanted the same woman? Had it never occurred to her that there might be some men out there who found her decidedly, utterly, perfectly...perfect? He sniffed. “Perhaps no gentleman has said so because they fear your father.”
She scoffed.
“Or perhaps they fear you.”
Her brows shot up. “Pardon me?”
“You are an intimidating woman. I like that, personally, but a weaker man would likely be scared off.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “You like that I am...intimidating?”
He grinned. He more than liked it. “You don’t intimidate me. That is my point. But you are strong and passionate, and very clearly well able to take care of yourself and, my bet is...you would give any man a run for his money.”
She sighed and some of his good humor faded when he
realized that whatever he’d said had disappointed her. “That is a good thing, Min.”
She arched a brow in disbelief. “Is it?”
“Not everyone has courage. And those who have it ought to be proud.”
She tilted her head to the side as she considered that. “Ought they?”
She seemed to be musing over this to herself, but he took a step closer, and this time, she did not swat his hand away when he cupped her chin and lifted her face up so her gaze collided with his.
“You were made for...” Me. He swallowed. “More,” he finished abruptly. “You were made for more. If any of these officers cannot see your sense of adventure, your courage and your drive, your passion—”
“Enough.” She pulled back, but her breathing was labored, and her cheeks were flushed.
“Forgive me,” he said with a rueful smile, his own pulse pounding in his veins at whatever it was that had just passed between them. “I suppose I tend to get overly passionate myself at times.”
“Yes, well...” She licked her lips, her gaze darting over the cave around them and the treasure at their feet. “Let us get back to the topic at hand.”
“Very well.” His hands dropped to his sides as he brushed aside his disquietude. It was almost as though they had just come close to something...something great. Something momentous.
It was the feeling of narrowly escaping danger. Or perhaps just missing something epic and glorious. Either way, he felt oddly deflated when he spelled his plan out for her. How she would spread the word that this treasure would be unguarded during the ball when the toasts would be made. That her father believed the threat to be gone now that the pirate had fled. These lies he had no doubt she could sell.
She had an honest face, and those made for the most believable liars.
Meanwhile, he and Caleb would keep watch, ready to trap their prey.
“Whoever this smuggler is...” She frowned as she stewed over the plan. “He would have to be quite the fool to fall for this trick. To honestly believe that my father would leave the treasure unattended?”
He smiled. “Foolish or just desperate. My bet is on the latter. If he’s allied with the band of pirates and ruffians we believe he’s been doing business with, this thief would not dare lose the treasure and have nothing to show for it.”
Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap Page 7
