Stepping nearer, Ann reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a good man, Cap’n Horn. I know that Miss Willis would be here with you if she could.”
“She will be here with me. She’ll be here if I have to scour all of the confounded British Isles to find her.”
Chapter 26
Thy love unto me now is dearer than life,
And happie am I since thou wilt be my wife,
And while I’m on shore still with thee I will stay,
Imbracing thy charms, love, by night and by day…
—ANONYMOUS, “BILLY THE MIDSHIPMAN’S
WELCOME HOME”
With a crisp snap, the Satyr’s snowy sails caught the breeze, and the ship pulled away from Sao Nicolau. Standing at the helm, Gideon steered the ship toward England with building impatience. It had taken him nearly three weeks to get this far. The ship hadn’t been in any shape for a long journey, so they’d wasted valuable time in careening it and tarring the rigging before they could even leave Atlantis. Then once they’d reached Santiago, they’d had to lay in supplies and a cargo that would help them pass for a merchant ship when they sailed into English waters.
They’d also had to see to the needs of the eleven women, and their children, who’d chosen to leave Atlantis. Eight of the women had wished to take passage elsewhere from Santiago. He’d had to find them lodgings and arrange passage on other ships. All of that had taken time.
The other three were aboard the Satyr. They’d insisted on returning to England despite the risk of being caught again. Among them were Molly, little Jane, and Molly’s newborn. He fully intended to see that Molly was reunited with her husband, no matter what it took. She wanted to bring her husband back to Atlantis, and he’d agreed to that, as long as the man wanted to come.
He was gratified that in the end, only eleven women had wanted to leave. Most had been content with the island, despite the bad beginning he’d given them. And of the ones who’d stayed, most had taken husbands.
Screening his eyes from the morning sun, he gauged the distance around the island’s peninsula and tacked into the wind. He hoped to make England in no more than two weeks, despite having to travel against the trade winds. The Satyr was traveling light, after all, with just a token cargo and a skeleton crew. He hadn’t wanted to risk any more of his men than necessary if he or the ship were captured in England. The few men who’d agreed to sail with him hadn’t minded the risk. They were men of daring who for one reason or another had wanted to see England. A couple even intended on finding wives to bring back to Atlantis.
“It feels good to be sailing again, doesn’t it?” Barnaby said at Gideon’s side. Gideon glanced at his first mate. Barnaby was one of those who’d come because he enjoyed danger. Sometimes Gideon doubted the man would ever really settle down.
“Yes, it does feel good,” Gideon replied, but only half meant it. Although he loved the sea as much as any sailor, he’d grown to love Atlantis more. Already he missed the grainy feel of sand beneath his bare feet, the chatter of the children playing in the stream, and the woodsy scent of the forest.
But perhaps he missed those things only because he’d shared them with Sara. And it was Sara he missed most of all.
“What do the men think of my changing the rules concerning the women?” Gideon asked. None of his men had been courageous enough to broach the subject, especially during his foul mood after Sara had left.
Barnaby leaned against the rail with a thoughtful look on his face. “The men are as soft-hearted as you, apparently. They actually seem to approve. I guess they decided you were right—that a lifetime with an unwilling wife wasn’t a pleasant prospect.”
“I wish I’d realized it sooner.” Before he’d driven Sara beyond his reach. Before he’d fallen in love with a prickly reformer who’d probably rather have him thrashed for kidnapping the women than marry him.
No matter. He could endure a thrashing if he had to—as long as she married him afterward.
And if she didn’t? If she proved to be fickle after all? If she threw his proposal of marriage back in his face and announced that she thought herself well rid of him? What then?
The possibility had tortured him throughout the past three weeks. He’d continually plagued Petey and Ann with requests to recount what had transpired between Sara and her brother, yet despite their constant insistence that she’d been forced, he didn’t feel completely easy. Even though her brother had forced her to leave, a great deal could have happened in the two months since she’d been gone. Once away from the island and back among her social circle, she might have decided that her life on Atlantis had been a disturbing dream and nothing more. She might not want to see him at all.
Yet he had to risk it, even if it meant ending up like his father—tormented by memories of lost love every waking hour.
Barnaby suddenly let out a low whistle at Gideon’s side, jarring him from his dark thoughts. “Look there, Captain. ’Tis a shame that we aren’t roving anymore. Now there’s the perfect prize. An English merchantman.”
Gideon followed Barnaby’s gaze. A large ship was sailing into the Cape Verde Islands under an English flag. Sitting low in the water, she looked sweet and plump, ready for the picking to anyone interested in chasing her down. “Aye, a pretty prize indeed. But not pretty enough to tempt me. I’m done with piracy, Barnaby. For good.”
“Are you?” Barnaby’s eyes narrowed. “This ship may change your mind.”
“Nothing will change my mind,” Gideon said dismissively as he turned back to the helm.
“Don’t be so hasty. Look at the ship’s name, and then tell me you don’t want to board this particular ship.”
With impatience, Gideon scanned the side of the ship. There, in plain gold letters, was written the name Defiant. He straightened at once and reached for the spyglass.
“Wasn’t that the name of the Earl of Blackmore’s ship,” Barnaby muttered, “the one that took Miss Willis away?”
Gideon nodded as he scanned the ship’s hull, then swept the glass over the decks. He saw nothing to indicate it, but he couldn’t suppress the hope that it bore Sara. Could she already be—
No, not so soon, he realized. Not with a brother like hers. “I doubt there are two Defiants that have reason to sail in these waters. It’s got to be his. I’ll wager that bastard Englishman has come back to finish where he left off the last time he was at Atlantis. Since Sara wouldn’t let him level the island then, he probably left her in England and came back to do it without her.” A grim smile touched his lips. “He’s in for a surprise, isn’t he? I’ll take his ship before I let him go within a mile of Atlantis.”
“Take his ship? With what? We scarcely have any crew to speak of.”
“When have desperate odds ever stopped us?” Gideon surveyed the other ship’s crew through the spyglass, wondering why there were so few of them. “We have plenty of cannon, and his ship doesn’t look that well manned. We can take him in a sea battle, I’ll wager. If he refuses to come to and let us board him, I swear I’ll blow fifty holes in his hull until I flush the coward out of hiding. If he’s aboard, I’ll make him tell me where she is. If he’s not, I’ll hold the ship for ransom until he gives her to me. Either way, I will take his ship.”
“You’re quite mad, you know,” Barnaby said, most sincerely. Then he shrugged. “All the same, I must say I miss a good fight at sea.”
Catching sight of the Defiant’s English flag, Gideon muttered, “It’s a shame we destroyed our old Jolly Roger.”
There was a long silence before Barnaby stammered, “Um…we didn’t exactly…that is…”
Gideon held the spyglass aside as he stared at his first mate. “I thought I ordered it destroyed at the end of our last voyage.”
“You did. But…well…I thought you might change your mind, so I kept it. It’s in my cabin.”
Gideon suppressed a smile. “I ought to sentence you to sanding the decks for a week for disobeying orders, Mr. Kent. But I suppo
se I can overlook your transgression this time.” He returned to observing the Defiant through the spyglass. “Tell me, have we ever taken one of Blackmore’s ships that you know of?”
Barnaby grinned. “I don’t recall ever hearing that name spoken by any of the crews we’ve…er…entertained.”
“Then it’s high time we took one, don’t you think?”
“Aye, aye, Captain. Mustn’t let the good earl get too cocky about his prowess at sea.”
“Indeed.” Gideon set down the spyglass with a determined smile. “This earl definitely needs taking down a peg or two. And you and I are just the men to do it.”
Sara sat at breakfast in the saloon of the Defiant with Lord and Lady Dryden and Jordan. She picked absently at her food, too excited to eat. They were nearing the Cape Verde Islands, only two days’ sail from Atlantis. She could hardly believe Jordan had finally agreed to transport her to the island. But he’d had little choice, once the marquess and his wife had brought pressure to bear on him. If he hadn’t agreed, the marquess would have chartered a ship himself to go to the island, taking Sara with him. And Jordan never liked relinquishing control of a situation.
Sara had come to like Lady Dryden a great deal on this trip. And her husband, too. Although the man was obviously several years older than his wife, Lord Dryden had none of the pretensions that men of his rank and age often possessed. Indeed, his regal bearing, aristocratic features, and warm smile reminded Sara very much of her late stepfather.
So here they were, the four of them, traveling to Atlantis. The other three were conversing on some subject that might have been of interest to her if her mind hadn’t been preoccupied with thoughts of Gideon. He was almost within her grasp. She had so much to tell him, so much to say that she could hardly contain it all.
Her only fear was that he wouldn’t give her the chance to speak. Oh, if he refused to see her, to hear her out, she would never be able to bear it. Never.
The door to the saloon swung open, and the first mate rushed in. “My lord, there’s a ship to starboard, gaining on us fast! And she’s flying the Jolly Roger!”
As Jordan let out a curse, Sara leapt up from her chair so quickly she knocked it over. She ran into her cabin. The others came in behind her as she gazed out the porthole, straining to catch a glimpse of the ship that was well on their heels. Then she saw the figurehead. It was the Satyr. There was no mistaking it.
“Gideon,” she breathed, her heart pounding faster.
Lord and Lady Dryden started murmuring behind her as Jordan came to her side. “I thought you said the Pirate Lord had given up piracy.”
“He has.” She faced them all. Lord and Lady Dryden looked concerned and Jordan looked positively livid. She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. “He has,” she repeated more firmly. “Of course he has.”
“Then why is he here,” her brother asked, “chasing after us and flying the Jolly Roger?”
“I don’t know.” She tilted her chin up. “But he must have a good reason for it.”
“We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” Whirling away, Jordan strode past Lord and Lady Dryden out of the cabin and into the saloon.
Sara rushed after him as her other companions followed. “What are you going to do, Jordan?”
“I’m going to determine just how ‘honest’ and ‘kind’ your pirate captain really is.”
“What do you mean? What—”
She broke off as the captain entered the saloon, his face mottled with fury. “It’s the Pirate Lord, or so one of my sailors tells me. They’ve ordered us to ‘heave to.’ With your permission, my lord, I’d like to fight. I think we can win, even though we’ve not as many men as I’d like.”
“No!” cried three voices at once.
When the captain stared at her and her companions in astonishment, Jordan grimaced. “I’m afraid fighting is out of the question, captain. You see, my sister intends to marry the Pirate Lord, and Lord and Lady Dryden are here to make sure it happens. Much as I’d like to order you to blow the Satyr out of the water, I can’t. If I do, one of them is liable to murder me in my sleep, and then you’ll have no one to pay your wages, will you?”
The captain cast his employer an incredulous look. “So you want us to heave to?”
“Yes.” Jordan’s voice held an edge. “But have your men armed and at the ready, hidden from the pirates. If anything goes wrong, we should be prepared.”
With a curt nod, the captain left. Jordan turned to Sara. “I want you to stay here until I’ve spoken with him.”
“No!” she protested. “You’ll shoot him, Jordan, and I won’t have that!”
“Sara, I’ve agreed to all of your terms until now. The least you owe me is the chance to determine if your pirate captain’s intentions are honorable. This attack on my ship doesn’t give me confidence in his supposed willingness to ‘retire.’ And I’m not going to simply hand you over to him unless I’m sure he’ll treat you well.”
“But Jordan—”
“He’s right,” Lord Dryden interrupted. “I think we should all stay below until we’re sure there’s no danger.”
Sara might like Lord Dryden, but she certainly didn’t appreciate his interference just now.
Apparently, neither did his wife. “That is my son out there, Marcus, and I shan’t sit in here twiddling my thumbs when I finally have the chance to hold him in my arms again!”
“I share your feelings completely, my dear. But no matter what we feel, we don’t yet know this man. He’s unpredictable, and according to Miss Willis, very bitter. I think it’s best to test the waters, so to speak, before we reveal ourselves.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Jordan told the marquess. “You’ll stay here with the ladies? Look out for them if anything goes wrong?”
“Nothing will go wrong unless you make it go wrong!” Sara protested, but both Jordan and Lord Dryden ignored her words. When Lord Dryden gave his agreement, Jordan walked out the door.
“Jordan!” she shouted after him. “Don’t you dare hurt him!”
Coming up beside her, Lord Dryden patted her shoulder. “There now, Miss Willis, it will be all right. Your brother may be hot-tempered, but he does care about you.”
“If he lays one hand on Gideon, I’ll strangle him,” she said fervently.
“Don’t worry,” his lordship interrupted with a faint smile. “If he lays one hand on Gideon, my wife and I will hold your brother down while you do.”
Gideon stepped aboard the Defiant with several of his men, uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. This had been too simple. They’d ordered the ship to heave to, and it had complied without a murmur of protest. He motioned to Barnaby, who boarded the ship out of sight of its captain, accompanied by fifteen more of Gideon’s best men.
Then he gripped the hilt of his saber as he faced the ship’s captain, a sea-roughened raisin of a man who stood beside the main mast.
The man looked oddly unafraid. “We carry no cargo of any use to you and your villains, sir.”
“I’m not here for cargo. I seek the Earl of Blackmore. Is he aboard?”
“He’s aboard,” came another voice from beyond the main mast. A man stepped forward, a pistol in his hand. “I’m the Earl of Blackmore.”
Gideon scanned his enemy with cold eyes, looking for signs of the weak coward he’d expected to find. But though the man was finely dressed and younger than Gideon had expected, he looked nothing like the noblemen Gideon had dealt with in previous captures. There was a hardness about him, an edge of stubborn pride, that Gideon couldn’t help but admire.
And he was leveling the pistol on Gideon as if he itched to fire it. “What do you want with me? Is it gold you want?”
“There’s only one thing I want of you, and that’s Sara,” Gideon said bluntly, ignoring the pistol. “I want my fiancée. Either you take me to her, or I hold you and your ship captive until you do.”
“Or I could shoot you and your cursed pirates. Even now m
y men have yours under their guns and can pick them off at will if I command it.”
Gideon sneered at him. “Barnaby!” he shouted. “How fare the earl’s men and their guns?”
Barnaby and the fifteen other men emerged from behind the forward house, pushing a group of disarmed and disgruntled sailors ahead of them. “Oh, they fare quite well, Captain. As for their guns, let’s just say we’ve added to our arsenal substantially this day.”
The earl scowled as Gideon faced him with a thinly veiled smile. “I’ve been a pirate for many years, Lord Blackmore, too many to fall for such paltry tricks.”
“I still have you under my own gun,” the earl retorted hotly.
“Aye. And my men have you under theirs. Now, about your sister—”
“Jordan, you fool, put that gun down at once!” shouted a familiar feminine voice. Sara ran out from beneath the quarterdeck to stand in front of Gideon, facing the earl. “Don’t you dare shoot him! Don’t you dare!”
Gideon’s breath stopped in his throat as he took in the flaming hair and lithe form. “Sara!”
She turned to him, her face glowing. “I told you I would return. I told you.”
He gave her no chance to say more. Throwing down his saber, he caught her to him and crushed her against his chest. She was here. She was really here! “Sara, my Sara,” he whispered into her hair, “you have no idea what I’ve endured without you.”
“No worse than I’ve endured without you.” She drew back from him a little, her tear-filled eyes scanning his face with tender concern. “You look far too pale and thin, my love. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you. Truly I didn’t.”
“I know.” He ran his hands over her waist and ribs, scarcely able to believe that he held her in his arms. “That’s why I’m here. I was on my way to England to fetch you when I spotted your brother’s ship.”
Sara’s expression turned irate. “Ann told you what happened? Oh, just wait until I see her again—”
“You mustn’t blame her for telling me, sweetheart. I’d already decided to go to England to carry the women who didn’t wish to live on Atlantis.”
The Pirate Lord Page 34
