“If you put it up, I’ll just take it down again.” His voice lowered to a throaty hum. “And you know what happens when I take your hair down.”
When he stepped nearer, she rose, deciding it might be more prudent to abandon her hair pins.
Before she could react, his hand snaked out to tear her cap from her fingers. Then he balled it up and stuffed it in his trouser pocket. “You may leave now. Silas is feeding the women; go have your dinner. But I expect you on deck in half an hour—and the other women with you.”
“What for?”
“We should tell the rest of the ship about the conditions of our bargain, don’t you think?”
The rest of the ship? The other pirates? Good heavens, until this moment, she hadn’t thought about the fact that they’d have to be informed. She certainly had no desire to be around when they were.
He stood very close to her now, and when she lifted her face to his, his eyes challenged her to refuse. A trick of the light made her fancy she saw horns buried in the raven-black whorls of his hair. She shook her head to clear it. He wasn’t a mythical creature, no matter how much he resembled one. He was human and could be bested. She just hadn’t yet figured out how.
“What’s wrong?” he bit out. “Afraid to face my men when I tell them that their happiness has been delayed, thanks to you?”
She sniffed. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
His expression softened. Slowly he lifted a hand to stroke the hair away from her cheek. She withstood his touch, determined to show him that he didn’t frighten her. Although God knew he did.
“I can well believe you fear nothing, Miss Sara Willis,” he said, dropping his hand from her cheek. “I suspect you would take on the entire English realm—or the American nation—if you had to.” He lowered his voice. “But be warned—I’m no fancy English lord to be governed by a slip of a woman, no matter how sweetly she kisses. And if you stir up rebellion among those women again, you’ll have good cause to fear me. I promise you that.”
Then he swept his hand mockingly toward the door.
Head held high, she lifted her skirts and passed over the threshold, then hurried out onto the deck as he closed the door to his cabin. To her chagrin, several of the pirates looked up as she came on deck. When they exchanged knowing glances, she halted, a blush spreading over her cheeks.
Good heavens, how she must look with her cap gone, her hair down, and her lips reddened! What must they think of her!
What they thought was clear from their grins. She stiffened her spine, ignoring their laughter as she swept between them toward the hatch. The wretched scoundrels! They were probably used to seeing women leave their captain’s cabin looking as if they’d just been seduced. No doubt they thought she’d already succumbed to the Pirate Lord’s despicable overtures.
She crossed the deck purposefully. She had succumbed a little. But just a kiss. Well, two. Or was it three?
Good heavens, it didn’t matter how many; that was the end of it. He’d said so, and she certainly intended to hold him to it. There would be no more kisses between them unless that blackhearted pirate forced them on her!
No indeed. Not a single one!
Petey joined the pirates on deck and perched on a nearby barrel, uneasiness in the center of his chest as he waited for their captain to speak. God save him, how was he to get the little miss out of this mess? When he’d sneaked aboard the Satyr, he’d had no plans in mind. He’d only known that he dared not go back to England without Miss Willis. It was less a sense of duty and more a fear of what the earl might do to him and his family if he returned empty-handed.
Oh, sure, the blighter had seemed reasonable enough, but a reasonable man didn’t send a spy after his sister and offer an ungodly sum for it. No, Petey dared not risk the earl’s wrath. Tom needed that job in the earl’s household, especially now that Father had lost the butcher shop. But Petey felt as if he’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. The earl was a man to fear indeed, but the Pirate Lord—
Petey groaned. He’d nearly lost his bloomin’ breakfast when the pirate captain had spoken of marooning him. It was a common practice among pirates, to be sure, and the thought of it terrified Petey. Thank the good Lord he’d thought to mention Father. Of course, Petey had exaggerated his own ability. He didn’t know as much as he’d let on. And what did a pirate want with a butcher, anyway?
Slanting his hand over his eyes to block out the light of the dying sun, Petey looked up to where the Pirate Lord paced the quarterdeck, his large hands clenched together behind his back and his face drawn in anger. He’d been in a foul mood ever since he’d called for the men to assemble on deck and had sent for the women.
Petey wondered if the little miss had something to do with it. She had a tongue on her, it was true, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d used it to chastise the captain. For her sake, he hoped not. Anybody could see that the Pirate Lord wasn’t to be trifled with.
Suddenly the women emerged from the hatch behind Petey, led by Miss Willis. He caught her eye as she passed with them in tow, but she could only give him a helpless look before she went on.
“What’s this all about?” he heard a man mutter beside him. It was the one who’d passed out the food a few hours ago, a man named Silas.
The first mate answered. “I don’t know. But that Lady Sara has something to do with it. You can be sure of that.”
Petey swallowed. Pray God she hadn’t condemned all the women to some horrible fate with her troublemaking, though he had to admit the women had been treated well thus far. He scanned the crowd, looking for little Ann, but she was so short he couldn’t catch a glimpse of her.
As soon as the women had gathered on deck, the Pirate Lord beckoned to Miss Willis to join him on the quarterdeck, and she went, though her face wore a wary expression that made Petey anxious. Once she stood at the captain’s side, nearly dwarfed by the fearsome man’s great height, the captain began to speak.
At first Petey could hardly believe the man’s words. A colony? The pirates were starting a colony? And they wanted the women to join them as wives? When the Pirate Lord had taken the ship and said they wanted wives, Petey had thought it some wicked joke. But apparently the bastard meant it.
Pirates settling down? Who’d have thought it? Pirates generally loved their gold too much to settle anywhere. But the other pirates behaved as if this was no news to them. Indeed, Petey could see them looking the women over already, trying to decide which ones they wanted.
A shiver passed through him. His little Ann would be taken by one of them. Nay, that couldn’t be! If Petey was one of the pirates now, he’d be allowed a wife as well, wouldn’t he? And he would fight any man for Ann.
After that, Petey only listened with half a mind to the conditions that the captain had placed upon the courtship—that the elderly women would be exempt and the children would go with their mothers. All Petey could think of was Ann…how sweet it would be to have her to wife…how grateful she’d be to him for saving her from these pirates…how much he wanted to kiss her.
His pleasant musings were abruptly shattered when the first mate called out, “And what of the earl’s sister, captain? Must she choose a husband as well? Or are we to assume she’s already taken?”
Amidst the chuckles of the pirates, Miss Willis stared ahead in stony silence, her cheeks red as a dawn sky. Petey held his breath, waiting for the pirate captain’s answer.
Captain Gideon cast his first mate a quelling glance. “You may not assume anything, Mr. Kent. And yes, she’ll choose a husband like the rest.”
A shiver of horror snaked through Petey. The bloomin’ blighter! Force Miss Willis to marry one of these pirates? But that was unthinkable! Not a lady like her!
All his dreams of marrying Ann vanished. If Miss Willis was included in the women to be courted, Petey had only one choice: he must do his duty by her. He’d have to marry her—or at least pretend to marry her—to protect her from those other bounde
rs until he could restore her to her brother safely.
Oh, but Ann—
Petey sternly scolded himself. Ann was a pretty little thing, to be sure, but his duty must come first. He couldn’t let his family down by ignoring Miss Willis’s welfare.
Captain Gideon was scowling now, as if the topic of Miss Willis’s future husband didn’t sit well with him either. But he continued speaking, his voice even and cold. “Now that you know the situation, boys, I expect you to behave with discretion. We want to start a colony, not a bawdy house. You’ll treat the women with respect or you’ll answer to me for it.”
Miss Willis glanced at him, surprise on her face, but he ignored her. “Barring any bad weather, we should reach the island in two days. Until then, your duties will remain the same as usual, but you may visit with the women during your free time. See that you don’t neglect your duties to do your courting.”
His gaze fell on the mass of uniformed women that split the crowd of pirates in half, like a pretty ribbon tied to a black post. “The women will be allowed freedom of the ship as long as they don’t interfere with the running of it. But at night they’ll be locked in the hold and a guard posted in case any of you think to have the wedding night before the wedding.”
Some of the men grumbled, but that quickly subsided when their captain frowned at them. Then he looked over the crowd, his gaze stopping on the man beside Petey. “Silas, I’m charging you with finding out what skills the women have. And make a list of what tools they’ll need for sewing and such. Although we’d best steer clear of Santiago for a while, once we’ve reached Atlantis, I may send a few men back to one of the other Cape Verde islands for additional supplies.”
“The women already have the necessary tools for sewing,” Miss Willis broke in. She’d been quiet all this while, so the sound of her firm but gentle voice after the captain’s harsh, commanding one came as quite a shock. “They were given implements and some cloth aboard the Chastity, and I believe most of them brought them aboard the Satyr.”
The captain turned to her as if he’d noticed her standing there for the first time. There was no mistaking his dislike at having his speech interrupted. “Thank you for your informative report, Miss Willis,” he said dryly. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
Under the force of his gaze, she colored, but stood her ground. “Well, yes, there is. If you don’t object, Captain, I’d like to continue with the reading and writing lessons I’ve been giving the women.” When Captain Horn raised an eyebrow, she hurriedly added, “Any of the men who’d like to join us may do so.”
That brought a loud chorus of laughter from the pirates, and for a moment, Petey thought he saw the captain himself smile. But when the Pirate Lord turned back to his men, it was gone. “You heard what Miss Willis said, boys. You may join the ladies for schooling, if you like. But only when you’re not on watch.” He cast a long, hard glance over the crew, then added, “You’re dismissed. Behave yourselves.”
As the crew dispersed, Petey waited on his perch, since he couldn’t get back to sanding the deck until it was cleared. While he waited, he watched the captain, whose eyes were on Miss Willis. She seemed oblivious to the fact that the captain followed her every move. But others noticed.
“No matter what the cap’n says, he wants that girl for himself,” Silas said a few feet away from Petey.
Petey stole a glance at Barnaby, who looked skeptical.
“I’m not so sure of that,” Barnaby said. “She’s an English noblewoman, and you know how he feels about them.”
“I don’t care if she’s a damned Hottentot from the South Seas. Didn’t you see the way the man looked at her? Like he hadn’t had a good meal in two weeks and she was a prime bit of beef.” Silas tapped the tip of his pipe against his teeth. “Aye, he wants her all right. The trick will be gettin’ her to choose him.”
“That should be no problem. Any woman Gideon wants, he gets. If indeed he wants her, he’ll have her begging him to marry her before the week is out, mark my words.”
Petey turned to gape at the two men in horror. It was one thing to try to protect Miss Willis from one of the other pirates by marrying her. But to go against the Pirate Lord? God help him, that would be like putting his mouth in the maw of a shark!
Suddenly Barnaby seemed to feel Petey’s eyes on him. He fixed Petey with a stern gaze. “What are you looking at, mate? Go on with you! Get to your duties!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Petey mumbled. He walked toward where he’d left the deck bucket and picked up the stone the sailors called a “prayer book,” a palm-sized soft stone used for sanding the hard-to-reach spots of the deck. But as he dropped to his knees and began scrubbing the teak boards with wet sand, he couldn’t stop thinking about Miss Willis. He had to find a way to speak to her. He had to warn her to tread carefully around the captain.
Because if she weren’t very careful, Petey might find himself having to do something drastic to protect her from the Pirate Lord. And he didn’t relish having a set-to with that monster of an American sea captain. Not one little bit.
Chapter 8
A sea-man is a cock o’ the game,
young maidens find it true,
We never are so much to blame
to let them want their due.
—JOHN PLAYFORD
“THE JOVIAL MARRINER”
The sun edged down onto the horizon like a god’s golden pendant lowering into the shimmering sea. Sara leaned on the rail and stared at its rippled image in the water, wishing she could just walk along that fiery path until she reached England and the safety of home. She hated to admit it, but Jordan had been right. This trip had been ill-fated from the beginning.
And that wretched captain only made matters worse. Oh, how he must have laughed after she’d left his cabin, after she’d succumbed to his kisses! How he must have reveled over her weakness! Instead of arguing on the women’s behalf, she’d let him take all sorts of scandalous liberties with her. He’d distracted her quite effectively, no doubt for his own nefarious purposes.
It certainly wasn’t because of any real attraction. He’d made that quite clear, both in his cabin and later, when he’d publicly spurned her before all his men, acting as if she were some…some piece of pirate booty to be doled out as he saw fit! Her cheeks grew hot just remembering it. He’d made her melt, then offered to hand her off to the first man who asked. The wretch! The scoundrel! She hated him!
“Miss Willis,” said a voice behind her. She turned to find Louisa threading her way through the women who were seated everywhere on deck, eating their supper. With a plate of stewed beef and ship’s biscuits balanced in one hand and a cup of water flavored with whisky in the other, Louisa approached her.
“You really must eat,” Louisa said in the governess tone she was wont to use. She held out the plate. “You must keep up your strength.”
“For what?” Sara sighed, though she took the cup. “It does no good to fight them, you know. They’ll do what they want with us, regardless of what we say.”
“That’s not true.” Setting the plate on a nearby box, Louisa picked up a biscuit and closed the fingers of Sara’s free hand around it. “You’ve already convinced them to give us a choice. That’s more than we had before.”
“Some choice.” In a burst of defiance, she crumbled the biscuit into the sea. She had no appetite, not after her encounter with that dreadful pirate captain. When she spoke again, her tone was edged with pique. “We can marry an old pirate or a young one, a daring one or a dull one, but still we must marry pirates and live out our days on some remote island where we may never again see our families…” Her voice broke at the thought of being separated from Jordan for the rest of her life.
No matter what she’d said to Gideon, she knew Jordan would never find her. How could he? He’d search in all the wrong places, never dreaming that the pirates were on an island. A tear slipped from her eye, and she brushed it away. She never cried. She was too pract
ical for that. But tonight she felt very unpractical…and very weepy.
With a little murmur of understanding, Louisa squeezed her arm. “There, there, now. Don’t fret yourself over it. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
A new, gruffer voice sounded beside Louisa. “If the lady ain’t gonna eat her dinner, then she should give it to one o’ the others and not waste it by throwin’ it in the sea.”
Sara and Louisa turned to find the peg-legged cook scowling at them. In one hand he held a pitcher of water and in the other the knobbed and worn stick he used as a cane. But the mottled brown and gray beard covering half his face gave him a fierce appearance that negated any hint of weakness one might take from the presence of a cane.
Another pirate to plague them. Sara was sorely weary of them, and she was certainly not in the mood to fight anymore tonight.
Apparently Louisa’s mood was quite different, however, for she drew herself up and waggled her finger at him. “How dare you give the poor woman trouble over those nasty biscuits! If you made biscuits worth eating, sir, perhaps she wouldn’t throw them to the fish!”
He blinked his eyes in astonishment. “Biscuits worth eating?” His voice rose. “Biscuits worth eating? I’ll have you know, madam, that I bake the best biscuit on the high seas!”
“That’s not saying much, considering that ship’s biscuits are notoriously awful.”
“It’s all right, Louisa, you needn’t defend me—” Sara began.
Louisa just ignored her. “Those biscuits were so hard, I could scarcely choke them down. As for that stew—”
“Look here, you disrespectful harpy,” the cook said, punctuating his words with loud taps of his cane, “there ain’t nothin’ wrong with Silas Drummond’s stew, and I defy any man—or woman—to make a better one!”
“As you wish. I suppose it would be better if I took over the cooking.” Louisa lifted the hem of the flimsy apron assigned to the women as part of their convict costume. “Of course, I’ll need a better apron and a decent cap, but I’m sure we can drum one up somewhere…oh, and if you’d be so good as to show me where the stores are kept—”
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