In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2)
Page 9
The pirate smiled, showcasing a mouth of greenish-black teeth that smelled as repugnant as the rest of him.
“I think he needs some help remembering, Cap’n.”
Aidan looked over his shoulder. “Indeed, Chunk.”
Aidan moved aside as Chunk stomped closer.
“Cap’n wants to know where Roche is.”
“Pity for the captain,” he answered keeping a wary eye on Chunk.
“More a pity for you, I’d wager.” Before the pirate had a chance to respond, Chunk lifted his tree-trunk of a leg and let his oversized foot drop onto the man’s seeping wound.
“Ah!” The pirate screamed, cursed. Sweat suddenly beaded his face, dripped off the edge of his crooked nose.
Chunk leaned forward, putting all his weight into it.
The pirate’s skin went sallow; his eyes bulged then rolled. Before Aidan could ask the man again, he turned his head and vomited onto the floor. Aidan gave a sharp nod and Chunk lifted his foot off the man. Like a crab, the man scrambled away from Chunk, leaving a smear of blood on the once gleaming floor.
Again, Aidan knelt at the man’s side. He wasn’t smiling any longer and his smell certainly hadn’t improved. “Roche isn’t here to witness and appreciate your solidarity. Save yourself another bout with Chunk and tell me where Santiago is.” This time Aidan held his knife aloft, turned it side to side, let the light reflect off the serrated blade before positioning it over the man’s spurting wound. “This is nothing compared to the carving knife Chunk favors.”
“This little thing?” Chunk asked, sliding a mean-looking blade from a sheath. It was still stained red from the battle.
“All right! Enough!” With a trembling hand the pirate wiped the sweat from his upper lip, the tip of his nose. “Roche was hurt in a recent battle. He sent us here to tell his daughter he wouldn’t be coming for her birthday.”
Aidan angled the knife toward the man’s wound.
“I’m not lying!”
“Perhaps not but neither have you told us where he is.”
“No wait!” He yelped when Aidan slid the blade over the wound. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth of it. We were to come tell Miss Sarah he would not be coming and then meet him at an arranged location.”
“And where might this location be?”
“Tortuga.”
Aidan settled back on his heels. As a meeting place, it made sense. There was no greater pit of debauchery than Tortuga. However, it did pose a problem. He wanted Roche’s life, but not at the expense of his own. He might have the element of surprise if he attacked Roche in Tortuga but he had no way of knowing how many allies the man had. And, unfortunately, some pirates would likely jump into the battle for the sheer pleasure of it and not care who they shot at. If he was going to take on Roche and live to tell the tale, it couldn’t be there.
Besides, he already had the perfect place in mind.
He leaned in close. “Go tell Santiago I have his daughter.”
The pirate’s eyes bulged. “Have you lost your mind? You take her and he’ll stop at nothing to have your head!”
Aidan grinned. “He has to find me first.”
“He’ll be enraged. He’ll be-he’ll be—”
“More of a madman than he already is?” Aidan supplied.
“Yes!”
“It’s time Roche learned what it feels like to have his family threatened.”
“But—” The pirate looked about. “How do I know she isn’t already dead?”
“You want assurances? Chunk, fetch the girl.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“You’re mad, I tell you. You don’t know what Roche can do. You take his daughter and—”
“Actually, I know exactly what he’s capable of and he has this coming. This and worse. Ah, here’s your proof now.”
“Where is he? Where’s my father?” Despite Chunk being three times her size, and having a solid grip on her arm, she was pulling him as she hurried into the hall. Her fear-filled eyes skipped over the fallen men. She paled at the sight of blood and what she had to know were dead men, but she remained surprisingly composed. Her gaze latched onto Aidan’s. “I don’t see him. Where is he?”
Aidan stood. “Not here, your highness. Seems he’s going to miss your birthday this year.”
“Then he’s alive?” she asked. Fear fell from her rigid body.
“For the moment.”
Her scowl told him exactly what she thought of his comment.
Ignoring it, he addressed the pirate on the floor at his feet. “Tell Roche if he wants his daughter back he needs to think back fifteen years ago to what he did to a boy and his mother. If he remembers where that was, he’ll find his daughter.”
Panic filled the pirate’s eyes. “Fifteen years ago? What if he doesn’t remember?”
Aidan shrugged his shoulders. “For your sake, I hope he does.” He slipped on the quiver he’d left behind the door, grabbed the bow. “Oh, and you’ll be needing a ship to get to Roche as I’ll be taking the Revenge back.”
“How do you know about the-You were there! You were there when Roche was hurt.”
“Indeed. You can tell him it was my arrow that pierced him.”
“He’s hurt?” Sarah gasped. “How badly?”
“Not nearly as badly as he deserves.” Aidan looked to his men who’d been waiting patiently for their orders. Some were sporting bruises and a gash or two stained their shirts crimson but they were steady on their feet and appeared no worse for the battle. “Go on ahead, make sure the others have secured the Revenge.” His gaze landed on Sarah. “Do I need to toss you over my shoulder to keep you from attempting to escape or will you come quietly of your own accord?”
Fear and anger were no longer evident in her eyes. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d say she looked…eager.
“I’ll go quietly. But can I fetch my bag first? It’s already packed and just up the stairs.”
“You had a bag packed? Why? You couldn’t have known we were coming.”
“Oh.” She pursed her lips, looked away. “I’d planned my own escape. Your arrival yesterday came at a most inopportune time.”
*
She wasn’t afraid. Perhaps it was foolishness on her part, or pure naivety, but she’d been in Aidan’s company for almost two days and he hadn’t harmed her. He’d made a point of taking her onto the beach as a reprieve to the struggle he knew his words had caused and he’d let her fetch her bag when she’d asked—or more accurately he’d had one of his men get it. He’d claimed he would never lie to her and inexplicable as it was, she believed him.
Which meant her father was indeed a vile, heartless pirate. She wanted to reject the thought, wished she could. While it was difficult to envision her father torturing, raping, or killing anyone, neither could she deny there was a coldness about him. Hadn’t she witnessed it herself? He never embraced her, never truly seemed to listen to what she had to say or hear her. How many times had she felt she was simply an object to him, like a priceless statue to be taken care of and prized, something to be kept high on a shelf?
It was why she’d been planning to escape and, as she strode beside Aidan through the garden gate, it was why she had butterflies fluttering in her belly. Tonight, she was leaping off that shelf into a whole new world. While she’d resented Aidan’s appearance just as her plan was coming to fruition, she now relished her good fortune. Before Aidan’s appearance, she’d known it would be difficult to gain passage on a ship without any currency and knew if she couldn’t she’d have to hide from her father’s men until she could find a way to leave the island. But now a ship awaited her and it would be days until her father even knew she was gone. Days!
Days of freedom where she could learn what she’d been missing, where she could, finally, live. It wouldn’t be without worry. She knew her role was to draw out her father; her very presence would, if Aidan succeeded, aid in her father’s death. However, she had a few days to consider, to t
hink of an alternative plan which wouldn’t culminate in her father dying. In the meantime, she wasn’t going to waste this moment. This was the most freedom she’d had in her life and it was worth savoring.
“I believe you are the first captive I’ve seen smile,” Aidan remarked.
She pulled her attention from the moonlit ripples, to his moon-washed face. Both, she decided, were equally enchanting. “Perhaps it’s not as I’d planned it, but I’d intended to escape my home and that is what I’m doing. For now, it’s enough I’m away from San Salvador.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“Were you honest when you told me you would never lie to me?”
“Aye.”
“Is it your intent to harm me?”
His steady gaze held no doubt. “No.”
“Then if I take you at your word, captive or not, I am not in any danger and it does no harm to enjoy what is surely to be the grandest adventure of my life thus far.” His puzzled look remained as they walked the water’s edge, prompting her to ask, “Would it make you feel better if I were scared?”
“Not better necessarily, but it would be more expected if you were.”
“And you prefer what’s expected?”
“I understand what’s expected, it does not mean I trust it.”
“The unexpected scares you?”
He stopped, faced her. “Not usually.”
Nothing more was said as they made their way down the beach and around a bend. Not too far out into the water two ships bobbed close together like a couple dancing. On the beach ahead of them, Sarah recognized the big man named Chunk standing next to a longboat that had been dragged partway ashore.
“Any problems?” Aidan asked once they were within easy speaking distance.
“None that weren’t easily taken care of,” he answered with a sly smile.
“And the ships?”
“As you instructed. Jack’s already on the Freedom. He’ll captain it back to Luke with a minimal crew. Lucky and the others are already aboard the Revenge awaiting us and Carracks has been set into your cabin.”
“Then we’re ready.”
Chunk nodded, shoved all but the nose of the longboat into the water. Aidan stepped into the boat and set Sarah’s nerves singing when he took her arm and helped her do the same. The boat creaked and rocked underfoot as they made their way to the rearmost bench and several times it was Aidan’s grip which kept her upright. She wondered if he realized it was gestures such as those that reassured her she was not in danger from him.
When the hull scraped the sand Sarah thought it the most glorious sound she had ever heard. She was leaving, finally leaving the prison she’d been raised in. She was about to embark into a world she’d done little but read about.
She’d never been more excited in her life!
*
The Revenge was his. Aidan stroked the wheel, ran his palms over the smooth wood. He’d coveted the Revenge and the role of Sam Steele since Samantha had saved him from the plantation. He’d envisioned this moment, and hundreds of variations of it, ever since. This particular one he found himself in? It had not even been a blemish on his map.
But then how could he have foreseen that within days of becoming Steele he’d lose his ship, regain his memory, realize the man he’d sailed with for years was, in fact, his father? That he’d set out to kill his enemy only to be thwarted and then have said enemy’s daughter aboard his ship for the foreseeable future?
Suddenly he wished he had Luke’s penchant for rum.
He sighed because he knew even if he did, rum would not help him.
“Where are we going?”
Between the breeze and the struggle earlier this evening to get her in the cellar before her father arrived, her hair had completely fallen from its pins. Dark tresses cascaded over one shoulder and down her back. It made her look vulnerable despite the arms she’d crossed over her chest.
“Where I can find out what your father’s up to.”
“You said my father would have to think back fifteen years? What did he do? Is that where we’re going?”
Eyes on the darkness beyond the bowsprit, Aidan kept silent. The warm night air fluttered through his hair and coasted over his forearms. The hell of it was it also carried her scent to him. Innocence. Sweetness. Two things he couldn’t reconcile with when he thought of Roche or anything associated with him.
And yet they fit Sarah.
“I thought you promised never to lie to me.”
He slid her an icy look. “I did and I won’t. But not answering you is not lying.”
“You’re after killing my father and using me to do so. I should think that warrants an explanation.”
“I told you he came after my family.”
“Days ago, yes. But what happened fifteen years ago? Who did he go after then?”
“I notice you are no longer professing his innocence.”
Her arms fell to her sides. A gust of wind blew sections of her hair across her cheek. Inexplicably, he pictured himself curling it behind her ear the way she did.
“I’d be a fool to. I don’t want my father dead but between the fear I’ve witnessed in the staff, the coldness in his treatment toward me, and other oddities…”
“Such as the guard you never saw again,” he supplied.
“Yes. Clearly he is not the man I’ve believed him to be.”
“Of that you can be sure.”
Sarah stepped closer to the wheel. “Will you tell me? What he did to that boy and his mother?”
Aidan could have kissed Chunk when the large man tossed open the hatch on the captain’s cabin and climbed the steps to the quarterdeck.
“Everything’s ready,” he said.
“Excellent.” Aidan stepped from the wheel, motioned for Sarah to follow him.
She gave him an inquisitive look but did as he asked. She followed him into the small cabin, one he’d been in many times. He was grateful Roche’s men hadn’t had the ship long enough to do her damage or change her. A quick look around the cabin, on the shelves, and in the drawers of the table confirmed there was nothing Sarah could use as a weapon if she were to have such a thought. Chunk had set her bag next to the berth and unless she decided to light the ship on fire with the thick stump of a candle on the table, he was satisfied with the arrangement.
“You’ll be staying here until we find your father.”
Squawk. “Staying here. Staying here.”
They both ignored the parrot.
“You’re holding me captive in this cabin?” she sputtered.
Aidan leaned against his table. “No. I would however caution you I have a crew of men and I can’t be everywhere at once. They’ve been ordered to leave you alone but it would be wise of you not to engage with them more than necessary.”
Her indignation fell as fast as it had risen. “Yes, I see the wisdom in that.”
“As this is also my cabin”—he nodded toward his bag, which sat on the heavy chest underneath the ladder—“I’ll have need of it as well but I will make use of it when you are above decks.”
She nodded, shifted her eyes about the cabin. “And the parrot?”
“Carracks,” Aidan said and passed the brightly colored bird a small nut to chew on. “He’s good company and smart, but beware as he repeats most everything he hears. You can spend time with him if you like, but he also enjoys being on deck.”
Sarah’s eyes shifted from the parrot to Aidan. “You haven’t harmed me. In fact, you’ve been kind. Why? If everything you say about my father is true, why would you be kind to me?”
He frowned. “I don’t believe in punishing the innocent.”
“The boy and his mother? They were innocent as well, weren’t they?”
Aidan shoved away from the table. “I’ve got duties to see to.” He marched the short distance to the ladder, took the rungs two at a time. He took the steps to the quarterdeck as quickly.
“Everything all right, Cap’n?”
“Fine. Are we still on course?”
“Aye.”
“Thank you, I’ve got the helm.”
Stepping back, Chunk relinquished the wheel. Aidan caught the man’s smile as he passed. Because he suspected Chunk would once again tease him about every Steele falling in love before making port it put an edge in his voice when he asked, “Did I say something amusing?”
Chunk stopped part way down the stairs, crossed his forearms over the rail. His words weren’t of love when he answered, “Steele was never afraid of taking risks. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”
“You thought it would?”
“We thought it possible.”
He couldn’t blame the crew for talking about their new captain but he didn’t like it either. He was younger than most of them, a fact they could take umbrage to, but most of them had also known him for years, knew what kind of sailor he was, knew he’d worked toward being worthy of Steele.
“Steele has never been afraid to go after what he wants.”
Chunk nodded. “Tortuga, then?”
Aidan grinned in return. “Tortuga.”
Chapter Eight
There wasn’t a cloud in sight. A thick carpet of winking stars spread around the plump moon. Aidan strolled the deck. He acknowledged a few of his men when they lifted their sleepy heads as he passed. The wind was light and the Revenge was sailing easily. Until they were needed, Aidan would let them sleep. He hoped it wouldn’t be for hours.
Unlike Cale, and Nate before him, Aidan enjoyed being around people. Conversation and company was usually welcomed and appreciated. Yet there were still times he treasured this late hour and the peace that came with it. Tonight when his mind would not rest, he needed the silence and serenity.
Curling an arm around the bowsprit, Aidan leaned over the bow. There was something about the sight of the hull cutting through the water that always fortified him. When he’d first come to be on Samantha’s ship, he’d spent hours in this exact position and used to imagine that he was the ship and life the water. He’d survived the worst and, like the ship, he was not going to let anything stop him from moving forward. Whatever obstacles came, he’d cut through them the way the ship sliced through the sea. Sometimes that had come easy, sometimes it had been a struggle, but in the end he’d persevered.