The Pirate Lord

by Sabrina Jeffries

  His gaze met hers, startled, then aloof, like the look a sleepwalker gives a person who wakes him. Lying back on the bed and tucking one arm under his head, he stared up at the ceiling. “Often enough to make an impression on me, if that’s what you mean.” He cast her a quick, cool glance. “You probably think he should’ve done it a few more times, to flail some goodness into me. What’s that the Bible says? ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’?”

  “Oh, don’t quote that wretched verse! It’s awful how people use it to justify cruelty. Beating a child doesn’t teach him anything but humiliation and fear.”

  He stared at her a long time as if trying to fathom her. “Yes,” he finally said. “That’s exactly what it teaches.”

  Her heart twisted in her chest. Poor Gideon. No wonder he sought to create his own paradise. The world he’d been raised in sounded as if it was far from paradise. More like hell even.

  “Where was your mother while all this was going on?” she couldn’t help but ask. “Did she approve of your father…beating you?”

  His face grew shuttered. Abruptly he rose from the bed and drew on his trousers. “She wasn’t around.”

  Sitting up in bed, Sara clutched the sheets to her breast. “What do you mean? Did she die?”

  Folding his arms over his bare chest, he rested his hip on the edge of his desk. His features were as remote and cold as the figurehead on the prow of his ship. “Something like that. It doesn’t really matter, does it? She wasn’t there.”

  She sniffed. “If you don’t want to talk about her—”

  “I don’t.” When she cast him a wounded look, he added, “We’ve more important things to discuss, Sara. Like what’s going to happen today.”

  The abrupt change of subject threw her off guard. “Today?”

  “When the women choose their husbands. Or have you forgotten?”

  Oh, yes. That. Actually, in the wake of the fire and their night together, she had forgotten.

  He went on without waiting for an answer. “Obviously we can’t wait until new lodgings are built. That’ll take weeks. The men who went to Sao Nicolau returned this morning, so there’s no reason to delay. I need to know—” He broke off, a vulnerable expression crossing his face. “That is, I want to know whom you intend to choose.”

  “Why? So you can approve him?” she snapped.

  “What in blue blazes is that supposed to mean?”

  It took all her effort to force some calmness into her tone. “The last time we discussed this, you made it quite clear you didn’t wish to marry me yourself.”

  “That’s not true. As I recall, I said I wanted to ‘sample the goods first.’”

  “Oh, yes, I remember.” She hugged the sheet protectively to her chest, unable to hold back her bitter words. “Now that you’ve ‘sampled the goods,’ did I pass your test with flying colors? How many of the other women have you ‘sampled’ in your quest to find the perfect bedmate?”

  “Confound it, Sara, you know I haven’t touched another woman since I met you.” He raked his hand through his hair, looking more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him. “What we did together last night…that was not a test. But it did prove something to me. If I were doing the choosing, I’d choose to marry you and no one else. Unfortunately, by the terms of our agreement, I’m not doing the choosing. You are. And the question is, who will you choose?”

  Confused and torn, she wrenched her gaze from his. Marry him? How could she? Though it would likely be more than a month before Petey and Jordan arrived here, they would come; she felt sure of that. And when they did, she intended to leave with them. On the other hand, the thought of staying with Gideon on this intriguing island, helping him build a new world, was so enticing, she could almost say yes to anything he wanted.

  But that was a foolish thought. She didn’t belong here. And in any case, he was just looking for a convenient bedmate. For some reason he’d chosen her, but that didn’t mean anything.

  “It’s not as if I really have a choice at all,” she said evasively. “I’d prefer not to marry anyone, but you won’t allow that. If I don’t choose you, you’ve already said you would choose for me, so that means I either choose you for my husband or let you assign yourself as my husband. It’s all the same, isn’t it?”

  Eyes blazing, he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “You would choose not to marry at all rather than marry me? Even after what we shared last night, you think me not good enough to marry?”

  “It’s not that, Gideon!” But when he stared at her, clearly waiting for an explanation, she found herself at a loss for one. She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth—that she expected to be rescued from the island soon. “It’s…it’s…I’m just not ready yet. Marriage is so very final. If given the choice, I wouldn’t marry on so short an acquaintance.”

  “How forward-thinking of you,” he bit out. “Giving your virginity to a man isn’t final, but marrying him is.” He stared at her another long moment, his eyes bleak and angry. Then he stiffened. “Very well. You won’t have to ‘marry on so short an acquaintance.’ I certainly won’t force you to.”

  Scooping up his shirt, he headed toward the door.

  “Wait! What do you mean? What are you saying?”

  Without a word, he stepped outside the door and picked up a bundle of clothes, then tossed them inside the cabin. “Here. These are clothes I had them bring you from Sao Nicolau. Get dressed. I expect to see you on deck in half an hour.” And before she could ask him anything else, he was gone.

  She stared at the closed door, a disturbing emptiness settling in her chest. What had she done? What was he up to now? She should never have given in to him last night. This was a disaster, a complete disaster! And how in the name of God was she to get herself out of it?

  Gideon stood on top the quarterdeck a half hour later, his face grim as he scanned the crowd in search of Sara. Where was she? She had to be here for this.

  If he was going to make this sacrifice, he wanted her to witness it. After all, he was only doing it for her and her precious women. God knows nobody else would be pleased by his pronouncement. His men would howl in outrage.

  But he didn’t care. He’d made his choice, and he fully intended to see it to the end, even if it meant angering his men. Besides, what he was doing would help their situation, no matter what they thought.

  It would certainly help his. It might be the only thing that would.

  He surveyed the crowd again. It looked very different from the last time he’d stood on the quarterdeck to address the men and women. True, the mood was just as somber as it had been then, thanks to last night’s fire. But the fire had also drawn all of them closer. The women were more easy with the men, and the men more considerate. Some of the men and women had already paired off, and the sight of that pleased him. Sara might not approve, but at least his plan was working.

  Suddenly the object of his thoughts emerged from beneath the quarterdeck, glancing up at him with an expression of dread. His pulse quickened at the sight of her, like that of a blasted cabin boy with his first woman. She was wearing the white embroidered native blouse and flowing plum skirt he’d had the men buy for her. She looked wonderful in it, her hair loose and free about her shoulders and the wind blowing the thin cotton to cling to her legs, leaving little to the imagination.

  Bedding her should have put an end to this unreasonable desire for her. But it hadn’t. It had only made it worse. He wanted her again, this very minute. The irony of it was enough to make him choke. After all those years of sneering at English noblewomen, to be craving one now was a real blow to his pride.

  But he’d never been foolish enough to let his pride keep him from pursuing what he wanted, and he wanted Sara…in his house and in his bed. He’d chosen his wife. Now all he had to do was make her choose him.

  Wrenching his gaze from her, he faced the group. It was time to take the first step in his plan for doing just that.

  “Good morning.
I’m glad to say that we all seemed to have survived the fire intact. No one was lost.” He leaned forward to plant his hands on the rail. “We did lose all the dwellings last night, but I don’t intend to let that stop us. Someone—” Here he broke off, his gaze flickering briefly to Sara before returning to the crowd. “Someone made me see that Atlantis is worth fighting for.” There was a murmur of approval among his men, echoed to a smaller extent by the women.

  “Now that the rest of the men have returned from Sao Nicolau,” he went on, “we have most of the materials we require for rebuilding. What they haven’t brought, we can probably get on the island.”

  He squared his shoulders. Now came the hard part. “Miss Willis has said that the women would be willing to help us rebuild. So I’ve decided to offer them a compensation of sorts for their help.” He paused. “I’m giving them another month to choose their husbands.”

  First there was a startled silence. Then a low rumbling began among his men, and their faces grew dark and disapproving. Barnaby looked at him as if he were mad, though Silas seemed surprisingly calm.

  Gideon held up his hand for silence. “I know some of the women have already found potential husbands, and if they wish to go ahead and marry, they may do so. But as for the rest of the women, we’ll be busy rebuilding, and it’s only fair that they not be forced to deal with the additional complications of married life while they’re helping us.”

  At last he dared to look at Sara. Her mouth gaped open. Ann rushed to her side, her face wreathed in smiles, but Sara just stared at him. To his surprise, there was no hint of triumph on her face. Just a shock that slowly changed to gratefulness.

  He tore his gaze from her. She had nothing to be grateful for, though she didn’t know it. One way or the other, she would be his. He was probably mad to want to marry her, given his past. But it was the only way to have her. Already she felt guilty over what they’d done together. He’d seen it in her eyes this morning. The only way to get rid of that kind of guilt in a woman was to marry her.

  “We’ll all be sleeping aboard the ship now,” he continued, “unless some of you want to pitch tents or spend your evenings lying on the beach under the stars. Otherwise everything is the same as before. The men will treat the women with respect and honor their wishes. Is this agreeable to all?”

  He fell silent, waiting for the storm of protest to begin. But except for a few token complaints, the men seemed to have accepted his announcement. Perhaps they, too, had seen the wisdom of it. Some of them might even be having trouble with their own women. Perhaps they all needed more time to reach an agreement.

  “Barnaby will be in charge of making assignments concerning the rebuilding, and Silas will oversee the unloading of the sloop. As for the women, I’ll consult with Miss Willis on how they can help. That’s all. You’re dismissed.”

  As he climbed down the steps to the deck, he looked for Sara, but she was surrounded by women asking her questions. Then he spotted Barnaby making for him, a scowl on his face. Gideon waited for his first mate to reach him.

  “What in bloody hell is going on with you?” Barnaby said, with more than his usual impertinence. “First you agree to send half the men off for supplies, and now you postpone the weddings. I say we just marry the women and get the bloody thing over with, then think about building houses!”

  “Yes, and we both know the extent of your experience with women,” Gideon retorted. “You bed them and toss them aside. Well, you can treat mistresses that way, Barnaby, but you can’t do that with wives.”

  “And since when do you know how to treat a wife? When was the last time you had even a mistress for more than a month?”

  “It’s true, I know.” Gideon looked past Barnaby to where Sara stood, her hair shining in the morning sun like ribbons of fire. “But that’s something I intend to remedy.”

  Barnaby followed his gaze with a scowl. “I knew it. It’s that woman again. She’s gotten to you.” When Gideon didn’t answer, Barnaby added, “Is that who you plan to marry? Do you truly think that stiff-necked prude will choose you?”

  Gideon suppressed a smile at Barnaby’s none-too-apt description of Sara. “Given time, she’ll choose me. You can be certain of that.”

  “Ah, so that’s what this is all about. You’re giving yourself time to court ‘milady.’ I suppose that means the rest of us can forget about her.”

  He shot Barnaby an assessing glance. “Didn’t you just dismiss her as a ‘stiff-necked prude’?”

  “Some men like prudes, you know.”

  Gideon saw red. “Not if I can help it. You let the men know that Sara Willis is mine. None of them are allowed to even kiss her cheek, understand?”

  Barnaby held up his hands in surrender. “Of course, Captain, of course. Don’t worry. Nobody is fool enough to try to steal your woman.”

  Your woman. He liked the sound of that. “Good. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I wish to have a word with ‘my woman.’”

  With that, he left Barnaby’s side and strolled over to where Sara stood speaking with Louisa.

  “Louisa, would you leave us, please?” he said, when the two women turned to look at him. “I need to speak to Sara alone.”

  “Certainly,” Louisa muttered, though he noticed that she kept her eyes on him as she moved just out of earshot.

  He scowled at her until she hastened off down the deck. Then he turned his attention to Sara. “That woman never lets you out of her sight. What is she, your protector?”

  “She just worries about me, that’s all.”

  “Well, she needn’t worry about you anymore. I’m looking out for you now.”

  A soft smile transformed Sara’s face. “Yes, I can see that. Truly, Gideon, it was so kind of you to give us more time. You won’t regret it. It will be better for everyone. You’ll see.”

  He stared at her intently. “For you, too?”

  She blushed. “Yes, of course.” She glanced away, touching her fingers to the locket she always wore. “There’s something I must discuss with you, Gideon. I…that is…what happened last night…I don’t think it should be repeated.”

  “You mean, the fire?” he asked, deliberately being obtuse. He couldn’t believe she was saying this to him, especially after his grand gesture!

  Her gaze shot back to his. “You know quite well I’m not talking about the fire. I mean, us sharing a bed. It’s not proper for—”

  “It’s a little late to be concerned about proprieties, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps. But I…still think we shouldn’t…repeat last night.” When he cast her a look of complete incredulity, she hastened to add, “If we’re to consider marrying, then we need to know each other better, and I don’t mean in bed. I-I can’t think straight when you’re making love to me—”

  “Good.”

  “It’s not good. Marriage is a lifetime decision. I want to make it with a clear mind.”

  “I can clear your mind,” he growled and reached for her.

  But she shrank back from him. “No! That’s exactly what I mean. You want to make me forget about everything but you. Then I’ll find myself married to you and wondering how it happened. I don’t want that; I want to know what I’m doing when I agree to marry you.”

  Confound the woman. Why must she always be thinking about everything? Why couldn’t she be like other women, content to let a man sweep her off her feet?

  He stopped short. That was exactly what his mother had done—and what a disaster that had been. No, Gideon didn’t want history to repeat itself. He wanted Sara not to have any regrets once she agreed to marry him.

  Still, he’d be damned if that meant not touching her or kissing her or having her in his bed. He’d give her plenty of time to think…but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy each other occasionally in the meantime. He just had to make her realize that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. And there was only one way to do that.

  “All right, Sara. We can get to know each other. We
can rebuild Atlantis and talk and never once touch, if that’s what you wish.” At her startled look, he lowered his tone. “I don’t think that’s really what you wish. But I’m willing to let you find that out for yourself.”

  He paused, giving her time to think about what he’d said. When he continued, his voice was the merest whisper. “Let me warn you, however. When you change your mind—and you will—it’ll be your turn to come to me. Because the next time we make love, you’ll have to be the one to ask.”

  Then summoning all the strength of will he possessed, he turned his back and walked away.

  Chapter 20

  With pretty, courteous, dainty knacks we please the females well,

  We know what longing women lacks, most surely we can tell.

  —JOHN PLAYFORD

  “THE JOVIAL MARRINER”

  Sara made it through the first week surprisingly well. During the day, there was so much work to do, and so many quarrels among the women over who was to do what, that she scarcely had time to breathe. Water had to be hauled and the men fed. Grass had to be cut and dried for thatch, and mattresses had to be sewn from the canvas cloth the men had brought from Sao Nicolau.

  Still, she saw Gideon often enough to remind her of their one night together. He sought her out for her opinions on how the houses should be laid out. Whenever he needed something of the women, he came to her first, and they spent a great many hours debating the best way to allocate their meager resources.

  She found excuses to seek him out as well. Much as she chastised herself for it, she liked watching him work, his muscles glistening with sweat under the warm sun. He took to eating his luncheon with her beneath the trees, offering her the bananas she’d come to like and hunks of pork freshly roasted on Silas’s makeshift spits. Sometimes his fingers brushed hers accidentally when they were sharing the meal, but otherwise he kept his hands to himself.