Edward's Law

by Brandon, Felicity

  Edward’s Law

  A Pirate Spanking Romance.

  By

  Felicity Brandon

  Copyright © 2019 & 2020 by Felicity Brandon

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: felicitybrandonauthor@gmail.com

  This book is entirely a work of fiction. The author does not condone, nor endorse any of the acts in this book.

  First edition November 2019 in the anthology, Pirates, Passion and Plunder.

  Cover design by Studio ENP

  Download your FREE Felicity book here

  https://felicitybrandonwrites.com/

  Chapter One

  London, England, 1780.

  Alice

  “Lot number forty-two.”

  The auctioneer pushed his half-moon spectacles up the length of his nose, surveying the assembled crowd in the Christie’s Auction room as two men rushed into the dim auditorium, carrying the large portrait. The young woman in the dark cape straightened as the portrait was revealed to those present. It was an oil painting of a colossal ship, the word ‘Dexterity’ emblazoned on the side, her large sails catching the wind as she cut through the ocean waves. The woman let out a long breath as her gaze fell over the image, her pulse quickening at the sight. The Dexterity had been built for the King’s navy, but due to a set of unforeseen and sorrowful circumstances, she had never even set sail.

  But that was about to change.

  This is what she had sat through an hour of cumbersome, irrelevant lots for—this is what she had come for.

  “A unique and exceptional opportunity befalls us today, gentlemen,” the auctioneer began.

  The woman rolled her eyes at his opening. In her, albeit limited, experience, men were always the same—quick to judge, fast to assume, and rarely accurate in their conclusions.

  “The Dexterity sits in port, yet to undertake her maiden voyage, and one of you will have the chance to purchase her for your own.”

  A low murmur of appreciation rumbled through the crowd and rows of gentlemen in front of the woman, Miss Alice Jaggers, turned to exchange excited whispers. Her belly furled into tight knots as the atmosphere in the room shifted. It seemed she was not the only person there for the Dexterity, and her heart thundered at that prospect. Lowering her hood, Alice glanced around the room. She could not recall ever being this nervous before, but pulling in a deep breath, she resolved to focus. Alice had not come this far to be pipped at the post. The Dexterity was part of her inheritance—the ship her father had never got a chance to include in his will—and she had no plans to let it slip from her grasp now. Alice wanted it too badly, and in the five months since she had lost her father, she had planned this for too long.

  “Let’s start our proceedings at one hundred pounds.”

  The call from the auctioneer brought a hushed silence to the great room, and Alice gripped the small piece of paper in her hand.

  This is it, she thought, allowing her eyes to fall closed for a moment as the significance of the moment washed over her.

  The moment I get my father’s ship back, the moment I lay his ghost to rest—finally.

  Alice held her breath as she watched the dealings play out. Two old-looking men from the second row seemed the most interested in scuppering her plans and were trying to outbid each. Alice held her nerve, pushing down her rising apprehension as the highest bid passed between them until her moment arrived.

  “One hundred and twenty pounds!”

  She rose from her seat, shouting her bid aloud to the astonished faces of the dried-up men seated around her.

  “Miss?” asked the auctioneer.

  Alice nodded her head, ignoring the heat which spread to her cheeks as the attention of everyone in the room turned to her. “Yes,” she answered in a solemn tone. “My bid stands.”

  “Very well.” The auctioneer nodded. “The current bid is one hundred and twenty pounds. Do I hear any advance on that?”

  The air in the room was strained as the gentlemen Alice had outbid muttered quietly to their companions. They were apparently unimpressed with being outdone by a girl barely above legal age, yet neither of them seemed prepared to counter her. Alice pulled in a shaky breath, her fingers tightening on the small piece of paper caught between them as though her life depended on it.

  “No one?” The auctioneer’s voice cut through some of the tension. “Has no one got another bid?”

  Alice’s gaze excitedly surveyed the scene around her. This was going better than she could ever have hoped. Not only had her bid awed those gathered at Christie’s Auction House, but even better, it did not seem as though anybody else was going to put in a higher offer. Alice’s bid had been on the high side, but the Dexterity was worth it. It was worth every penny.

  “At one hundred and twenty pounds then! Going once.”

  The auctioneer slid his glasses back up his nose as he peered over them, calling out to the room.

  “Going twice!”

  “One hundred and fifty pounds!”

  A voice from behind Alice sent her heart racing, and she turned to see where it had originated. A tall, dark gentleman stood by the exit, leaning against the wall, his finger raised by his face. His eyes flitted to meet Alice’s stare, and for one moment, she was utterly transfixed, his sapphire gaze searing into her flesh even from his current distance.

  “No!” she whispered into her gown. “No, that’s too much!”

  The Dexterity was priceless to Alice, but she knew the new bid was far in excess of its real value. She technically had the money to outbid the man with the fascinating gaze, but she could hardly use all her inheritance to buy back her father’s ship. She still had to live. She still had the upkeep on Winter’s Lodge, and the servants needed paying. The money would only stretch so far.

  The stranger smiled as though he had heard her words and read her thoughts, but that was impossible.

  “Thank you, sir!” The auctioneer grinned, and Alice’s anxiety rocketed. It was almost like he was pleased the stranger had interjected—as though he had not wanted to sell the ship to a mere woman!

  “The bid stands at one hundred and fifty pounds. Do I hear any higher bids?”

  The assembled crowed exchanged glances, and trepidation tore at Alice’s heart.

  What should she do? Buy back the ship her father had given his life for or be sensible and allow it to slip through her fingers?

  “One hundred and fifty—going once!”

  Panic bloomed in Alice’s chest, threatening to burst into her lungs and suffocate her altogether. The plan she had envisioned so meticulously was evaporating in front of her eyes, and there was nothing Alice could do to prevent it. Not without giving up on her family home, Winter’s Lodge completely.

  “Going twice.”

  “No hard feelings, darling.”

  Alice gasped as the words were whispered into her left ear. She turned to find the stranger with the alluring blue eyes looming over her. She recoiled at his inappropriate proximity, staggering back a few paces, and watched in horror as his lips curled at her response.

  “It’s not personal,” he went on. “I promise.”

  “Going three times!”

  “Who are you?” she hissed, pulling her cape tighter around her body as she confronted him. Alice knew nothing about the man, but there was something in his gaze that sent a shiver up and down the length of
her spine—something dark, something captivating.

  “Sold!”

  Alice jumped at the auctioneer’s gleeful tone, and the stranger lifted his arm in the air in acknowledgment of the triumph.

  “Step forward, sir, and let us arrange your new purchase!”

  The gentleman’s compelling blue gaze burned into Alice’s face.

  “They’re calling for me,” he whispered, lowering his head to meet her eyes. “Though I wish it wasn’t true, for I should far rather spend another moment with you, beautiful, than take ownership of any ship.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “The Dexterity does not belong to you!” she snapped, stamping her foot in a show of defiance.

  His grin grew at her fiery demonstration. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, darling,” he drawled. “That ship is mine.”

  ***

  Five weeks later.

  The air was as black as the general mood of the docklands. While she scuttled down the cobbled streets, Alice wondered, not for the first time, what on earth she was doing in this God forsaken part of the city at this time of night. But that was a futile thought. Irrelevant, because she knew precisely what she was doing here, and every fiber of her body realized why it was important.

  “Come on, Alice,” she muttered under her breath as she clutched her small travel bag to her chest. “Keep it together. You can do this.”

  But as she hurried out of one alleyway into another, the sounds of a nearby ale house made her heart race even faster.

  “Hello pretty.”

  The heckle of a man drew her attention temporarily, and instinctively, Alice turned toward the place it had originated. She glanced at the gentleman in horror—if the term gentleman could be used to describe such a street urchin. The man was filthy, his face covered in black smudges which helped to make his wide blue gaze all the more errant as he glanced over his shoulder at Alice. For one terrible moment, Alice’s feet halted as though she was paralyzed with fear at what she was witnessing. The man’s body was facing the wall of an ale house, and though it was dark in the shadows, it appeared he was urinating against it. Alice gasped as realization washed over her. Never in her life had she been subjected to such crude and disgusting behavior. As the thought reverberated, her feet were moving again, carrying her away from his sneering grin as fast as she could possibly manage.

  The docklands were dangerous—as the cretinous man had exemplified—and were certainly no place for a lady, but Alice was out of options. In the weeks which followed the auction, she had wracked her brain, trying to envision a way to win back her father’s dream, but short of an act of God, it was hopeless. Alice had courted the advice of her late father’s solicitor, Mr. Arthur Roundhouse, desperate to see if the auction sale could be invalidated. How was it fair that some random gentleman could stalk into Christie’s at the last minute and snatch away the Dexterity from her like that? That ship was as much Alice’s inheritance as Winter’s Lodge, and it was imperative she had it.

  Fury and frustration had risen in her when the solicitor had advised there was nothing to be done. She recalled the way the older man had shaken his head while he told her the news—the ship now indeed belonged to this stranger, Mr. Edward Law, and that was that.

  “It’s better you let it go now, Alice,” Roundhouse had told her in a stern voice. “And concentrate on the things that are important—like finding a husband to take on your estate and raising a family of your own.”

  Alice snorted, temporarily forgetting where she was as anger at the solicitor’s words pulsed through her again. He was just another ignorant man. The world seemed to be full of them! And each had an opinion on what she should do, what she should wear, and say. Apparently, it troubled them all beyond reason that her father should have no surviving male heirs, and now his money and property passed to Alice by law. She smiled to herself as that thought resonated. Alice was glad for it. Being furious meant she was no longer afraid or at least, not half so afraid as she should have been as she scurried across the cobbles toward the jetty.

  The moon rose high in the sky, lighting her journey as she crossed onto the wooden planks bobbing on the sea. The surface felt precarious—just like this whole plan—but there was no turning back now. It was far too late for second thoughts. As Alice darted across the jetty, she could dimly hear the bells of St. Clements chiming behind her. It was midnight. The sailors and vagabonds would soon be spilling out of the local taverns, and she had discovered quite enough about the nature of men to know, she did not want to be found in the moonlight when that happened. With one final effort, Alice tiptoed her way across the thin plank of wood that stood between the jetty and the Dexterity. She would have liked to use her arms to balance, but the weight of her bag made that untenable, so instead, she pushed on, edging forward, inch-by-inch as her gaze fixed on the ship.

  Don’t look down, she counseled herself as she neared the edge of the Dexterity. Don’t look down. Just keep moving forward.

  Relief emanated from Alice as she reached the ship. Sliding her bag down the direction of the deck, her hands clasped the wood ahead.

  She’d made it!

  Excitement and anxiety warred in her head as she forced herself to mount the side of the ship and hoist her body over the edge, not an elegant entrance by any means. She landed in a heap on the deck below, but fortunately, there was no one there to witness Alice’s humiliation—a fact she was certain about but still, absurdly grateful for. In the days that had preceded this plan to board the Dexterity, Alice had spent evenings by the docks—learning about the layout, the low-life, and critically, ascertaining the ship was not yet inhabited. The information she had managed to bribe from a couple of local women who seemed to frequent the ale houses assured her Law had been working on the Dexterity, yet as she surveyed the magnificence of the ship from dry land, it was clear neither the captain nor his crew were yet on board.

  Clambering around on the deck in search of her bag, a knot of fresh trepidation rose to Alice’s chest. What if the information hadn’t been accurate? Of course, it was easy to see there was no one awake on deck, but why would there be? It was still possible the crew could be asleep below deck or worse, they could be headed back in her direction from a tavern at this very moment.

  As soon as Alice’s hands found her bag, she climbed to her feet and scampered toward the stern. There was no way she could risk being found so early in her audacious plan, particularly by a group of intoxicated sailors. Alice was green in the ways of mankind, but she was no fool. She had an idea the kinds of things men liked to do with women after one too many ales, and no man worthy of Law’s crew was the kind of gentleman she wished to encounter.

  So, why are you here?

  The niggling insecurity flashed through her mind. If you don’t want to associate with these men, why come here in the first place?

  Alice sighed at the thought, disappointed with herself for raising the issue again. She had to come. She simply had to. Alice was obliged to take ownership of the ship which should have been hers—and would have been—if Law had not snatched it from her fingertips. She owed that much to her father, and it was that loyalty which compelled her as she inched across the deck, trying to keep to the shadows as far as possible.

  She knew the layout of the Dexterity like the back of her hand, having studied her father’s designs on many occasions and knew the captain’s quarters were in this direction. They would be the safest place on the whole ship—at least until Law arrived, but even then, Alice knew something he did not. She knew about the secret space her father had designed into his rooms, designed with concealment in mind—a place the captain or his guests could hide should the ship ever be boarded by pirates. Alice shuddered as that idea reverberated.

  Pirates.

  The small hairs on her arms rose beneath her gown and shawl at the thought of the lawless bandits who sailed the oceans, stealing from passing vessels and wreaking havoc across the King’s oceans.

  However bad things seemed
now, at least Alice could seek comfort in the fact her father’s pride and joy had not been stolen by pirates.

  Chapter Two

  Edward

  It had been five weeks since the auction, and now, as he stood at the dock eyeing the Dexterity in the first shards of the morning light, Edward Law could not resist the grin that spread across his face.

  “Pleased with how she turned out, huh?”

  Edward turned at the question to find his first mate and oldest friend, Carlisle, beaming beside him on the jetty.

  “She was pretty decent, to begin with,” Edward replied, folding his arms over his chest as the sun glinted off the ship’s stern. “But yeah, the weeks of hard work have paid off. She’s immaculate.”

  Carlisle nodded his head, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Does that mean we set sail soon, Ed? The boys and I are tired of all this land living. It’s been nearly two months!”

  Edward chuckled. His crew had grown restless in the time they had been waiting in London, and he could understand. They had sampled the best of what the city had to offer in the first few days, and after the novelty of the ale and the women had grown old, they were all eager to get back out to sea. That was where they belonged, where they all felt free, and freedom meant a lot to men like Edward Law. When you lived as he lived, profiteering from someone else’s misfortune, it did not pay to be docked for too long. And it certainly did not do to draw too much attention to yourself. That was why buying the Dexterity had been such a gamble—a calculated risk. Folks were bound to notice an elegant ship like this in the docklands and the men who boarded her.

  Carlisle was right. It was time to leave.

  “Aye,” Edward answered as he turned to face his first mate. “Spread the word. We set sail at ten. All hands to the deck.”

  Carlisle grinned. “Aye, Captain,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll get the men to work, right away.”