He thought she’d be sick. “That’s disgusting!”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, under those circumstances yes. But when it’s between a man and a woman and both are willing…”
Her eyes nearly burst from her head. Then as the idea seemed to take root, her cheeks flushed. Feeling the stirrings of desire, Aidan quickly shifted the conversation to safer topics.
“Did they say anything of significance about me or my family?”
She took the bottle from his fingers, drank. “He spoke of Grace. How he was only going to keep her alive until the child was born. How that child wouldn’t be of the quality as the one which had come from his Evangeline but that it nonetheless belonged to him.”
“He’ll never get that child.” Aidan thought of Grace and Cale and how much he knew the man loved her. How they’d all come to care for her. “Of that you can be sure.”
She set the bottle aside. “Aidan there’s more. He said he’d go after everyone who’d had bested him. That he’d rape the women and children before slitting their throats.”
Aidan’s hands fisted even though it’s what he’d expect from Roche.
“I’ll see him in hell before he touches anyone in my family again.”
“Aidan, I’m so sorry for everything he’s done to you.”
“I don’t hold you responsible.”
She wrung her hands together. “I feel it. He’s my father. It’s my blood that hurt your family.”
He closed the narrow distance between them. “You didn’t know. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have been able to stop him.”
Her chin quivered. “All this time, all those awful things he’s done and I never knew. If you hadn’t come searching for him I would still be living a lie.”
“It’s not your fault, Sarah.”
A tear escaped the pool that had gathered in her eyes. “I’m ashamed to be his daughter. I don’t know how you can stand to look at me.”
There wasn’t much worse, to Aidan’s mind, than a woman’s tears. He wiped away the moisture, cupped her face and kept her from looking away when he knew she wanted to.
“I don’t see him when I look at you. I never have.” He leaned into her. “It would be so much easier if I did.”
She placed her hands on his arms, tipped her face to his.
The door burst open spilling the clamor of the tavern into the quiet room.
“I’ve got what ye wanted, Ai—”
Sarah’s face turned scarlet. She leapt back, would have careened into the unsteady stack if Aidan hadn’t been quick. He clasped her wrist and pulled her his way. Knowing what Captain would assume, Aidan was grinning when he faced his friend.
Sure enough, there stood Captain, his eyes nearly as round as his belly. His pan-like hands hung limp at his sides. His face was red as Sarah’s. Chuckling, Aidan moved around him and closed the door, once again shutting out the bulk of the noise.
Since Captain had yet to move, Aidan slapped the man on the arm. “You have something for me?” he prompted.
He shook his head. “Aye.” It seemed to take all his strength to drag his attention from Sarah. “Roche means to gather an armada. He’s already got himself three other ships.”
“How many is he after?”
“He says he wants at least six besides his own.”
Could be worse, Aidan reasoned. They’d have at least four of their own. The Revenge, the Freedom, Blake’s Blue Rose and he had no doubt Nate would acquire one as well. Since it was Nate’s house Roche had attacked, the man wouldn’t be satisfied to ride along on someone else’s ship. He’d want to command his own.
“Seven?” Sarah gasped. “How are you going to be able to defend yourself against seven ships?”
“He won’t be by himself, lad. He’ll have Steele.” Captain frowned. “Speaking of Steele I didn’t see him out there.”
Aidan grinned, couldn’t help the pride that pushed his chest out a little further. “You’re looking at him.”
Captain’s thick unruly brows shot into his hairline. “Ye did it, lad? Ye finally got it?”
“I did, indeed.”
His cheer shook the walls as he grabbed Aidan in a hug that nearly snapped every one of his ribs before setting him down. “What happened to Cale?” His face turned serious. “He didn’t…”
“Die? No. He found a good woman and decided piracy was no longer for him.”
“Ack,” Captain waved his arm wide, forcing Aidan to duck. “I don’t know why they figure they have to choose. Seems to me a man should be able to have both if he has a mind.” His gaze slid from Aidan to Sarah and back.
Aidan decided to put Captain out of his misery. “Captain, I’d like you to meet Sarah.” While he trusted Captain, Aidan figured it best if he kept her family name to himself until Roche was dead.
Captain let out a long, loud breath. “Blimey, lad, ye had me worried.” He smiled, held out his hand to Sarah. “Pleasure to meet ye, miss.”
“And you,” she answered as she took his hand, returned his smile.
Captain preened like a peacock.
Aidan chuckled. Nothing made Captain happier than talking to a pretty woman. Still, they’d lingered long enough. He thanked the man for his help.
“Ye be careful. Plan or not, Santiago is dangerous.”
“I know that better than most,” Aidan answered.
Captain crossed the room to the back door. “I’ll keep him here as long as I can without arousing his suspicion.”
Aidan nodded, thanked the man again then with Sarah behind him, stepped into the night. Knowing she’d stay close, as she had no reason not to, Aidan cut a fast path back to the beach and their hidden longboat. The advantage of the later hour was those lingering in the streets were more drunk than they’d been before and could barely speak and stand, let alone fight or give chase. With nothing slowing them down, it wasn’t long before they’d reached the boat.
“Is that fog coming in?” Sarah asked of the low cloud hanging over the water.
“No, it’s smoke from the meat-roasting fires.”
“Will it stop Chunk from seeing us? From knowing we’re ready?”
“Highly unlikely,” Aidan answered. “Help me gather some of this driftwood.” Anything that wasn’t damp was piled on the beach. When Aidan deemed they had enough wood, he scoured the underbrush for leaves, small twigs and anything else that burned hot and fast. He tucked that amid the smaller pieces of wood they’d collected before taking one of the grenadoes he’d brought along and carefully removing the slowmatch and cork fuse. He sprinkled some gunpowder onto the pile then capped the iron ball once more.
With the flint he took from his pocket and the dagger from his boot, Aidan lit the kindling. He waited until the twigs started to crackle and snap before adding the thicker logs. Then, satisfied the fire didn’t need any immediate tending, he settled himself at the edge of the trees where he could hide if needed while still having a clear view of the sea.
Until Sarah stood before him.
“That’s it? That’s the signal?”
He leaned back onto his arms. “You were expecting something else?”
“Yes. An explosion or a blaze taller than I am. Not”—she gestured to the small fire behind her—“that.”
“‘That’ will not attract any attention.”
“But isn’t that what you want? To attract your ship’s attention?”
“Aye, but only ours. Nobody else will look twice at this fire. They’ll just assume it’s some drunkard’s.”
“Yet Chunk will know differently?”
“Well, he knows what he’s looking for and this is where I said I’d be. Contrary to what you may have heard, pirates don’t usually camp on beaches. We prefer the shelter of the trees or almost anyplace else we can hide. You’re in my way.” He tugged on her arm and she dropped onto the sand beside him.
“What if someone else comes along?”
Aidan looked at her, grinned. “I’ll e
ncourage them to go elsewhere.”
But nobody else, drunk or sober, wandered to their end of the beach and no new ships sailed in. The more time that passed, the heavier the ball in Aidan’s stomach became. He added wood to the fire, gathered more, and never took his eye off the ocean. Chunk wasn’t late, as they’d had no way of knowing how long Aidan would need in order to learn what he needed to, but he’d been told not to venture far. If he needed to get out of sight he only had to circle the island.
By Aidan’s estimation he’d have had time to do so a few times already.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you suspect so?”
Aidan kneaded the back of his neck. The muscles beneath his fingers were strung taught and those within his stomach weren’t faring any better. It was time to consider that those uneasy feelings he’d had on the Revenge had amounted to what he’d most feared. A mutiny.
Bloody hell.
He pushed to his feet, strode to the water’s edge where the waves folded in. This was the worst of all possibilities. He’d felt a mutiny was a probability but he’d assumed if they attempted one they’d do it when he was aboard. According to Luke, who’d been a part of more than one mutiny over the course of his pirating days, part of the thrill of a mutiny was to take the captain down as much as take over the ship. Apparently the men on his ship had only wanted the Revenge.
Damn it, he’d only gotten it back!
“Bastards,” Aidan cursed as he found a conch on the beach and heaved it into sea.
Sarah shuffled up beside him. “They aren’t coming back, are they?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Aidan, you don’t need to lie to protect me. I’d rather know the truth.”
He turned from the ocean. “I’m not lying. The truth is I suspect a mutiny has taken place.”
“But—” Sarah looked all around. “How will we leave without a ship?” She grabbed his arm. “How will we protect your family if we’re trapped here?”
She’d only learned her father was a monster and she had to still be reeling from the truth, yet here she was, concerned about Aidan’s family. How Roche had managed to raise such a warm, giving daughter Aidan had no idea. Clearly, she must take after her mother. Aidan placed his hand over hers.
“Thank you for caring about them, but all is not yet lost. Aye, I suspect a mutiny but not everyone on board will betray me. There are several I trust who will fight to keep the Revenge from being taken.”
“Chunk?”
“And Lucky, Jacques, Slim, to name a few.” He squeezed her hand before breaking contact. “I trust they will succeed.”
“If they don’t?”
Aidan refused to believe otherwise. “They will. For now, let’s get off this beach. I’ll give them a few more hours, and then we’ll make alternate plans. Keep that hat low,” he ordered.
With long, purposeful strides, Aidan headed back the way they’d come, forcing Sarah to hurry in order to keep up. More drunkards had found their way outside and a handful lay sprawled on the street, a puddle of vomit next to them. The stench was that of rotting rubbish. Even the smoke fires couldn’t mask the vileness. If it bothered Sarah he couldn’t tell. It was as though she simply accepted what was and found a way to live with it.
Damned if he wasn’t impressed.
At the back of Doubloons, Aidan repeated the knock he’d performed earlier and Captain answered in the same manner.
His thick, wiry brows drew together. “What’s happened?”
“My ship has yet to return.”
“Weather’s fine,” Captain said with a knowing look.
“We need a place to stay for a few hours.”
Captain crossed his arms over his impressive girth. “And if they aren’t back?”
“Then I’ll be needing another ship. But I won’t give up faith yet. I’ve some good men on the Revenge.”
“Ye know where me home is,” Captain reminded him.
He did, it was why he’d come back. “In case anything was to go wrong, I left instructions with three of my most trusted crewman. They are to come here and say, ‘There is none more honorable than Vincent’. If someone says it to you, direct them to your house.”
“Aye, ye have me word.”
“Thank you for this. You know, if you ever need a favor…”
Captain waved that away. “Ah, be gone with ye. ’Tis an easy enough thing to do. Ye go and wait. With any luck, I won’t see yer face again tonight.”
“Let’s hope.” Aidan shook the man’s hand, managed not to grimace when Captain squeezed.
Leaving Doubloons behind for the second time that night, Aidan prayed he wouldn’t have to be back a third. Because if he did it would mean he’d lost the Revenge.
Again.
*
After the hot, sweaty smell of Doubloons and the disgusting stench of Tortuga’s streets, Sarah dreaded what awaited them at Captain’s home. She held her breath when Aidan let her pass into the small one-room house before him and only when her lungs were burning did she dare take in a careful breath.
“This is better.” She breathed as Aidan lit a lamp.
She didn’t mind the clothes littering the floor nor the dirty dishes piled—much as his supplies had been in Doubloons—in an unsteady heap. She was delighted to breathe without choking.
Sarah whisked off her hat, hung it onto one of two chairs flanking a small table. The room was small and with all the clutter felt even smaller. Missing the fresh air and open space of the beach, Sarah drew open the window above the table. The dull curtain fluttered as the moist evening breeze slipped into the room. Thank God, Captain’s home was closer to the beach than the heart of Tortuga or she’d never have dared open the window.
More, she was grateful for the blessed lack of drunken pirates, the absence of sailors who loathed her and a distance from a father she no longer wanted to claim as her own.
“Sarah?”
She startled, turned from the window. “Yes?”
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
She nearly didn’t hear him this time either. Standing at the hearth, the lamp casting flickering shadows on his chiseled face, his sword at his side and the black scarf low on his forehead, Sarah struggled to hear past the sudden buzzing in her ears. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”
“They must have been troublesome ones. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a heavy sigh.”
“I was thinking about everything that’s happened since you charged into my home.” She offered a smile as she sat. “It’s been exhausting.”
He pushed away from the hearth and after clearing Captain’s things from the other chair, took the seat opposite hers. “I’m sorry. I wish it could be helped, but using you is the only way I can be certain Roche will come.”
Sarah cast her eyes to her lap. “Hearing him tonight, how he spoke of me, it was as though I’m nothing more than a possession to him. A link to my mother.”
“What happened to her?”
“She fell ill when I was a small child and died soon after. I don’t remember her.”
“She must have been a remarkable woman.”
“Why would you think so?”
“Because you’re nothing like Roche. You’re kind, thoughtful, fair. Roche doesn’t possess any of those traits.”
She hadn’t realized how desperate she was to hear those words until Aidan said them. They were a balm to her battered heart. After overhearing her father’s foul words in the tavern, remembering every crime Aidan and his men had accused him of, she’d feared she’d only ever be seen as his daughter. Poisoned tree, poisoned fruit.
Her throat was thick when she answered. “Thank you.”
The chair groaned as he shifted. “I’m sorry if my words and those of my crew had you doubting yourself.”
“Only a little,” she said, raising her head and offering a weak smile.
Aidan s
hook his head. “That was my own weakness, not yours. I loathe your father and it was easy to assume you’d be just like him.”
“I think, in your shoes, I’d have done the same.”
He laughed. “I doubt it. You’re not so mean. Even in your effort to escape your home, you were certain to leave a note leaving your maid blameless.”
Sarah squirmed in her chair as her ears pricked with heat. “You saw that, did you?”
His lips quirked. “You were a surprise to me from the beginning.”
“I was a princess,” she reminded him.
“You had the palace and the servants and so it was easy to see you as one. Besides,” he added with a wink that went straight to her heart, “calling you that always had the lovely effect of getting you riled.”
“Yes,” she conceded. “It always did.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, content for the moment to hear the night creatures hum and chirp through the open window. Eventually, however, reality needed to be addressed.
Within her lap, Sarah twisted her hands together. “I don’t know what to do, Aidan. It had all seemed so simple and naïve before. I’d escape, have an adventure, live some new experiences. Eventually, my father would find me, or I’d allow myself to be found and he’d come to see reason. I’d return home, but with the freedoms I was denied before.”
She shook her head at her own foolishness. “I will never go back there. Even if you succeed in killing him, there is nothing in that house worth going back to.” Her chest tightened. “Have you ever had such a thing happen? Where everything you’ve known and believed is a lie?”
A muscle pulsed in his jaw. He held her gaze, said nothing. Hurt brewed in his eyes and the silence was no longer easy and comfortable. Guilt settled onto her shoulders like a brick. She’d hoped for a few hours of respite from fear, worry, and pain and instead she’d managed to wound Aidan. She pushed her chair back. Her time would be better spent tidying Captain’s home. After all, he was kind enough to—
Aidan reached across the small table, held her hand before she could stand. “Yes,” he said.
Surprised and curious, Sarah pulled her chair forward. “You have?”
In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) Page 18
