To Catch a Pirate

by Jade Parker

  What a miserable way to spend eternity!

  Although it occurred to him that the very fact that he was in pain might mean he wasn’t dead after all.

  He’d been at the helm, working with that jackanapes quartermaster, trying to turn the ship, when he’d seen Anna go down. And when had he begun thinking of her as Anna? Perhaps when he’d seen her ankles. It had seemed an intimacy far more personal than sharing a kiss.

  But seeing her slammed into the deck of the ship, he’d known she wouldn’t have the strength to hold on when the wave crashed down on them. He’d left his post and thrown himself around her, shielding her and holding on to the ropes securing the rainwater barrel to the side of the ship. He remembered the lash of the wave, as brutal as any beating he’d ever been given. And the scent of strawberries. Even in the raging storm, he’d somehow smelled her.

  He smelled her still.

  Felt something cool brush lightly across his brow.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes.

  And there she was. Wiping his brow with a look of tenderness the likes of which he’d never seen. At least not since his mother had sold him to Crimson. And why him? He’d not been the oldest of her brood. Two were older; three were younger. Nor had he been the one who ate the most. That honor had gone to his oldest brother, who’d been known to steal gruel from James’s bowl when their mother wasn’t looking. He’d tried to be a good son. But she’d sold him anyway.

  “Sterling?”

  Annalisa’s soft voice prodded him back from memories he preferred keeping locked away. He was no mother’s son. No father’s, either. He made his way by stealth and cunning. His only dream — too sweet a word for the hunger that gnawed at him — was to be captain of his own ship. The captain took orders from no man. And while a mutiny might result in his death, until that time no one would ever beat him. He was protected from those who awoke in a foul mood.

  He tried to gauge his surroundings. He seemed to be in a berth, cushioned by softness. He’d been here before.

  “I seem to have found my way back into your bed.” His voice sounded hoarse and his throat felt raw when he spoke.

  He’d hoped for a bit of a smile. Instead, she furrowed her brow. “Here, try to drink some water.”

  Slipping an arm beneath his head, she raised him up a bit before placing a glass against his lips. The water soothed going down. He realized the ship was no longer rocking. The storm must have passed. It always amazed him how he could look on a sea after a storm and find no evidence of its passing. If he ever had a ship of his own, he wanted to be like the storm. Attack, then disappear. Leaving those who survived in awe, forever referring to the powerful and mighty pirate who’d had the cunning to disappear as though he’d never been there.

  Annalisa moved the glass away. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got in a fight with the devil.”

  She laughed lyrically. “That’s as good a way to describe what we went through as anything, I suppose.”

  She was wearing a green dress now, instead of the blue. Her hair was pulled back, held in place with a ribbon. A bruise marred her cheek.

  “You’re hurt.” It was difficult to tell with the scratchiness of his voice if he was asking a question or stating a fact.

  “Not as badly as I might have been, if you hadn’t …” Her voice trailed off and she looked at her hands, clasped in her lap. She was sitting in a narrow chair. This portion of the captain’s cabin barely had room for that. She lifted her gaze. “You saved my life.”

  He was uncomfortable with the gratitude he saw in her eyes. “Don’t make me out to be a hero, m’lady. I was watching out for my own skin. Your Mr. Northrup would just as soon hang me from the highest yardarm. You, on the other hand, have an interest in keeping me alive.”

  “That interest is dwindling, Mr. Sterling, since you refuse to help me.”

  Her voice was tart, and he couldn’t deny that he much preferred her sparring with him. Much safer that way, easier to keep his distance. He’d loved his mum and she’d sold him. As daft as it sounded, he suspected he’d loved Crimson as well. He’d been the closest thing James had to a father. But Crimson had marooned him. All because of a piece of jewelry.

  “Offer me something more valuable than my freedom.”

  “There is nothing more valuable than your freedom.”

  “Freedom I can acquire on my own. Offer me something I can’t.”

  She shoved back her chair, stood, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re quite arrogant, you know that?”

  “It’s the pirate in me.”

  “You are my prisoner. I hold your fate in my hands.”

  “You owe me, m’lady. Twice now.” He held up two fingers to make his point. “The first time in the hold —”

  “They didn’t kill my father.”

  “And I daresay they’d not have killed you, but you’d have wished they had when they were finished with you.”

  She blanched, her face growing pale. He didn’t know what possessed him to challenge her at every turn. He was in danger of losing what he most wanted to acquire.

  “I won’t tell you where Crimson is,” he said, “but I’ll take you to him. If I consider the trade fair.”

  “And what would make the trade more fair than giving you your life?”

  “The quartermaster’s cabin.”

  She blinked and slowly unfolded her arms. “Pardon?”

  “I don’t want to be kept in the brig, nor do I want to sleep in crowded, squalid conditions where the regular crewmen stay.” He nodded, taking a fancy to the idea. “I want a comfortable berth. The quartermaster’s cabin will do nicely.”

  “Over my dead body.” Suddenly, Northrup was standing in the doorway.

  James hated realizing that perhaps he’d been eavesdropping, that he’d heard everything spoken. “That can be arranged,” he said cockily, only too eager to make his claim a reality.

  “Enough, you two. The squabbling has to stop,” Annalisa said.

  “I’m the quartermaster, Anna,” Northrup said. “I’ll not sleep with the men. They’ll lose all respect for me. I can’t command without respect.”

  James was surprised to discover that he didn’t like the way she looked at Northrup, the soft smile she gave him, the way she reached out and squeezed his hand.

  “Set up a hammock in your quarters. Give him the bed. Please, Nathaniel. You know how much this means to me. And it’s just for a short time.”

  Northrup narrowed his eyes at James. James saw his jaw tighten. He thought if they spent much time in each other’s company, he’d have the quartermaster grinding his teeth down to nubs. He took perverse pleasure in the notion.

  Northrup looked back at Anna, touched her cheek with a familiarity that caused James’s stomach to tighten. He’d seen his mates pull wenches he’d been flirting with onto their laps, and he’d not been bothered. Why was he bothered by something passing between Anna and Northrup that seemed so … inconsequential?

  “For you, Anna. I’ll do it for you,” Northrup said.

  She gave him a soft smile, the type of smile James knew she’d never give to him. One of fondness, one of caring. He turned his head away. It was difficult to watch this awkward encounter between them, to realize that Anna held some affection for the man. James wasn’t certain why he cared. He knew only that he did.

  A rather unfortunate realization.

  Sipping her tea from a china cup, Annalisa stood at the railing on the quarterdeck, the wind billowing her skirt out behind her. To the east the sun was just coming over the horizon. She loved this time of morning, particularly today. Last night Sterling had stood at her desk and charted a route that would give them enough leagues to cover for today if the wind held true. He’d not plotted the entire course toward their destination, but he’d set them in the right direction.

  “Drinking tea on the quarterdeck?” a deep voice asked.

  Turning, she smiled slightly at Sterling. He looked less r
agged. Having the freedom of the ship seemed to agree with him.

  “It makes me feel civilized,” she answered.

  “I heard once that Black Bart sips tea on the deck of his ship.”

  “Black Bart is a ruthless pirate. I have nothing in common with him. I’m a privateer. There’s a distinction.”

  “Subtle, to be sure. Some would argue none at all.”

  “I’m not doing anything dishonorable. I’m trying to recapture what was stolen from us.”

  Sterling leaned forward, his forearms resting on the rail, his hands clasped in front of him. His long hair was pulled back, held in place with a strip of leather. The wind toyed with his white lawn shirt, causing it to flutter slightly.

  “Perhaps whether one is seen as a pirate or a privateer depends upon where the one looking is standing,” he said. “You kidnapped me.”

  “You’re not innocent. You have a bounty on your head. Any action taken against you is justified.” She felt a spark of guilt. Not everything she was doing was sanctioned by the Crown.

  “Does Black Bart sail these waters?” she asked, to change the subject.

  “From time to time. His ship is Royal Fortune. His Jolly Roger is black. It has him and death holding an hourglass. If you should spy it, you’ll want to head in the other direction.”

  “I think I’d rather face him.”

  “Trust me, m’lady, he’s much worse than Crimson. He takes no prisoners.”

  “Have you ever fought him?”

  “Nay, and I have no desire to. It’s a sure path to death.”

  As was the path he was currently traveling, but she saw no point in reminding him of that.

  “You’re up early,” she said to lighten the mood.

  “Your quartermaster snores.”

  “You could always return to the brig.”

  “I think not. I’ll adjust.”

  Taking another sip of tea, she studied him over the rim of her cup. “You don’t speak in the manner I expected of a pirate. You speak almost like a gentleman who would fancy drinking tea in a garden in the afternoon.”

  Keeping one arm resting on the railing, he faced her. “That’s Crimson’s doing.”

  “The barbaric pirate? He taught you to speak like a gentleman?”

  He shrugged, a corner of his mouth lifting.

  “That’s not an answer,” she said. “Did he or didn’t he?”

  “What will you trade me for the tale?”

  “Give it to me with no bartering.”

  “That’s not the pirate way.”

  “Yes, well, right now you’re serving aboard my ship, so you’re not a pirate.”

  “I’m always a pirate, m’lady.”

  Her stomach dropped. Why did he have to be so constantly difficult? And why did she always find him extremely intriguing? Why did she like it when they parried words back and forth?

  “I order you to tell me or spend a night in the brig.”

  He grinned. “You’re a hard captain.”

  Her breath caught. Was he flirting with her? Was she flirting with him?

  “Your tale?” she prodded.

  “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. Crimson was educated at Oxford.”

  “A gentleman pirate?” She almost scoffed, but she didn’t want to offend him. To her mortification, she enjoyed talking with him. “I don’t believe you. I heard him calling out for you on the Horizon. He sounded uncouth.”

  “Playacting.”

  She waited but he said nothing else. She gave him a pointed look. “You’re not going to leave it at that, are you? So he thinks the sea is his theater, a ship nothing more than a stage?”

  “In a way I suppose he does. When we’re at sea, he dresses like a gentleman.” He dropped his gaze to her china cup. “He drinks tea. But when a ship is spotted on the horizon, he goes belowdecks and changes. When he reemerges, he’s different. His clothes are the colorful garb of a pirate. His language is coarse. He talks as though he has no education at all.”

  “You do realize he’s a madman?”

  “Depends where you’re standing.” He held her gaze. “Are you aware that pirates are a democratic lot? We elect our captains. Who elected you, m’lady?”

  “It’s my ship, my quest. Therefore, I issue the orders.” She angled her chin. “I daresay I can’t say much for the intelligence of a crew who’d elect a man such as Crimson to oversee them.”

  “He’s clever, he’s brave —”

  “He’s brutal. Is it true he drinks the blood of his victims?” She couldn’t believe she was asking.

  “Crimson once told me that the reputation for doing something can be as effective as doing it.”

  “Have you ever seen him do it?”

  He slowly shook his head. “But don’t tell a soul. Else he might decide he does have to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  They both turned at the unexpected question. Nathaniel stood there, his blond hair long enough to curl playfully beneath his tricornered hat.

  “We were just discussing Crimson Kelly and whether the rumors of his disgusting habits are true,” Annalisa told him.

  “I don’t think Sterling should have free rein of the ship,” he said sternly.

  “I’m not interested in escape, mate. At least not yet.”

  “It’s not your escape that concerns me but your ability to sabotage the ship.” He looked at Anna, holding her gaze. “I don’t trust him, Anna.”

  She nodded. “You’re right, of course. Assign someone to watch him closely, but no shackles.”

  “Kane!” Nathaniel called over his shoulder.

  The burly man stepped forward. “Aye, sir.”

  “Put Sterling to work swabbing the deck.”

  “Aye, sir. This way, mate.”

  Annalisa knew that Nathaniel had ordered the lowest form of duty for the pirate. It was an insult of the highest regard, something offered as punishment or because a man didn’t possess the skills for anything else. So she wasn’t surprised when Sterling objected.

  “This wasn’t part of our arrangement,” he said.

  “Every man on the ship pulls his weight or he goes in the brig,” Nathaniel said.

  “I provide the course.”

  “I’m not sure I trust it. You could take us in circles before we caught on.”

  “What would I gain?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Nathaniel, we all agreed to this arrangement yesterday,” she reminded him.

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Yes, well, that’s the way it is. Is there something else you needed?”

  “It’s time for your morning practice.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I’d forgotten. Laddie!”

  A young boy stepped forward smartly, took her cup, and scurried away.

  Annalisa drew out her cutlass. She suddenly felt self-conscious with Sterling standing there, giving her a speculative look.

  “You should go down below, Sterling, to avoid getting nicked,” Nathaniel said as though reading her unease.

  Annalisa wasn’t surprised that Sterling simply crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the railing. “I’d rather stay and watch.”

  “Nathaniel’s right. The lessons can get quite vigorous.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Very well.”

  She stepped forward to the middle of the deck and took her stance.

  Nathaniel did the same. “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  When he swung his sword around, she deflected the blow, as always surprised by the force of the impact and the way her arm shook. They both pulled back. She struck. His sword met hers.

  She jumped back. Circled slowly, watching him, watching his sword.

  Then she became aware of the laughter. It started as a low rumble of amusement and grew louder. She turned to glare at Sterling.

  “You find this amusing?” she asked.

  “I do. You fight as though you�
�re standing in a parlor.”

  “I’m still learning.”

  “The problem isn’t you, m’lady. It’s your tutor.”

  “I suppose you think you could do a better job,” Nathaniel said.

  “Have you any experience fighting pirates?” Sterling asked.

  “Of course. I fought several when you attacked the Horizon.”

  “Ah, that explains your immense dislike of me.” He stepped forward, held his hand out to Anna. “Give me your sword. I’ll demonstrate what you can truly expect when you come up against pirates.”

  “You’ll never carry a weapon on this ship, Sterling,” Nathaniel said.

  Sterling moved swiftly, snatching Anna’s sword from her fingers before she knew what he was about. He arced it over his head and brought it down on Nathaniel —

  Annalisa gasped in horror.

  Dropping to a knee, Nathaniel raised his sword to deflect the blow. The clash of steel echoed over the deck.

  “A pirate will never ask if you’re ready,” Sterling said.

  Nathaniel shoved him, sending him back, but his balance hardly seemed affected. Nathaniel jumped to his feet.

  Sterling struck again and again, but Nathaniel skillfully met each rapid-fire thrust and parry, backing up until he was pressed against the railing with nowhere to go.

  “A pirate will attack quickly,” Sterling said.

  He leaped away, grabbed Annalisa, snaked his arm around her, holding her close against his chest, the fine edge of the sword hovering beneath her chin.

  Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was certain all could hear it.

  “A pirate will not fight fairly,” Sterling said near her ear, his warm breath skimming over her cheek. “Do you really want to be taught how to fight pirates by a man with so little experience at defending himself against them?”

  She lifted her foot and slammed it down on his toe. Yelping, he loosened his hold, and it was enough for her to slip beyond his reach. “Kane!” she yelled, holding out her hand, and the man who was supposed to be guarding Sterling tossed her his cutlass. She caught it by the hilt, swung it around.

  Sterling met her steel with his. The vibration nearly stunned her.