Beneath Black Sails

by Clare Sager

  Knigh blinked. So it was the family that struck her more? Disappointing fathers – that sounded personal. Fine, he could follow that angle, as long as he didn’t think too much about the man.

  “Four of us – I have a brother and sister, too.” He pushed the tricorne on more securely, angling until it felt comfortable. He could give a few details. It wasn’t as if he were sharing naval secrets and he couldn’t see any way she could use this against him. “We had to sell our whole estate, and I thought I might have to leave the Navy. I’d not long made Lieutenant and expenses rack up quickly when you’re first promoted. Thankfully, my mother’s sister was able to take us in, and she lent me the money to stay in the service.”

  Thank the gods for Aunt Tilda. When he’d needed to escape the Villiers name, it had made sense to borrow Blackwood from her. She had no children, and he owed her so much – it was the least he could do to continue the family line. It wasn’t as if Father deserved to have his name live on.

  Blinking, Vice started and backed away as though she hadn’t realised she’d finished disguising him and had just been staring. “So talkative today. I believe this is the most words I’ve heard you string together at once.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Well, we’re serving on the same ship, now. It wouldn’t do to be rude, especially to the woman whose cabin I’ve commandeered.”

  “Aye, best not to piss off a notorious pirate.” She gestured to the street with a quick, stiff smile. “Shall we?”

  On First Name Terms

  When they emerged into the sun, no unwelcome attention lingered on them. As they continued up the road, he eyed her sidelong. Somehow, he’d managed to get her to speak to him civilly. Perhaps if he gave more, she’d share more.

  “Of course,” he said, scanning ahead, “selling off everything we had of worth, together with the scandal, destroyed my marriage prospects.”

  “I’m sure there are plenty of young ladies out there just waiting for their heads to be turned by a dashing young captain in uniform.” She flashed him a grin and winked.

  He scoffed at that reference to their first meeting. “Or rich young widows.”

  Her grin faded, and her eyes snapped away.

  Damn it, he hadn’t even asked a probing question, and he’d managed to make her shut down. He cleared his throat. “Still, the Na – my work means I can look after my family. And I wish to provide my sister with a good dowry.”

  “Such a dependable brother,” she said, brows together. But the look was more thoughtful or confused than angry. “It sounds like you’re working hard to turn your family’s fortunes around.”

  “It’s steadily paying off.” His chest warmed with pride. He had worked bloody hard, but it was nice to hear it acknowledged, particularly by ... Well, technically she was an enemy even if it didn’t feel like it right now. “I reimbursed my aunt two years ago, and I should be able to provide my sister with a good dowry by the end of the year.”

  Her eyebrows rose, and she veered them into a left turn at the next intersection. “Pirate hunting pays well.”

  Inwardly he winced. Yes, the 1,000 guineas on her head was a handsome sum.

  “In which case,” she went on, “why are you helping us rather than turning us in? I heard my bounty had gone up – surely that would help your family a great deal.”

  Because my ‘help’ is just a way of getting you back to Albion without you realising and escaping.

  He kept his face flat, calm, but the reminder jolted through him, cold as steel. This mild flirtation was one thing, and if it kept her on his side, it was an active, useful part of his plan, but he shouldn’t be enjoying it.

  The feeling twisted, like a dagger to the belly. Was that guilt? Gods, he shouldn’t be feeling guilty about his plans for her. She was a pirate. He was a pirate hunter, and he’d been perfectly honest about the fact from their first meeting. She should know better than to trust him.

  Hells, after what he’d done, everyone should know better than to trust him.

  He took a deep breath. “You assume the bounty is only for your capture or death. Imagine the reward for bringing such an infamous pirate into the fold, for making her the crown’s tame privateer.”

  She shot him a look, teeth bared for a second. “I may be a privateer, but I’ll never be tame.” Her shoulders were squared, her breaths deep. “I am my own, no one else’s.”

  Blinking, he surveyed her again. He’d touched another nerve. He didn’t expect someone who seemed so open and carefree to have hidden nerves to touch. “Sensible,” he said with a nod. “It’s probably best not to trust too easily.”

  It’s probably best not to trust me.

  She laughed, its volume not out of place here in the bustling streets of Nassau as it had been in Governor deLacy’s ballroom. “Sensible! That’s the first time I’ve ever been called that.”

  Grinning, he shook his head. “I can imagine.”

  Her eyes widened, and she grabbed his arm, angling them towards each other. “My word, have I cracked a smile on the face of the dread pirate hunter Blackwood?”

  Damnation, she had. And he hadn’t even intended to do it as part of his efforts to win her over – it had just happened. He straightened his expression. “It was only a mild grin, don’t get too excited.”

  She clapped him on the shoulder, smiling as they strode on. “I’ll still take it as progress. We’ll make a pirate of you yet, Knigh.”

  “Knigh?” He’d been promoted to first names now?

  “Blackwood’s too many syllables.” She shrugged. “Plus, I probably shouldn’t say it around here, since you have such an appalling reputation.”

  “Fine, Vee.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Vee?”

  He gave a tilt of his head designed to look nonchalant, but his heart hammered. Giving her a nickname was meant to help her relax and prevent him having to call her by such a ridiculous word. But now he’d said it and she was looking at him like that, it felt … intimate. “I told you I wasn’t going to call you Vice and since you won’t tell me your actual name, this will have to do. Unless you’ve changed your mind on revealing your real –”

  She stopped and raised her hand. “Never going to happen. Vee works fine. Now” – she gestured at the grocer’s they’d stopped by – “here’s our first stop.”

  They ducked into that store and several more over the next few hours, making arrangements to take on food, water, canvas, timber, gunpowder, and shot. Every shopkeeper greeted Vee warmly with smiles and hugs. They kissed her cheeks as if she were a beloved niece, and it looked genuine. They didn’t have the stiff manner of someone who needed to keep an enemy happy or who was working under the weight of threats.

  Their smiles, just as welcoming, even extended to Knigh. “A friend of Vice’s is a friend of mine,” one said, clapping him on the shoulder.

  And it was a good thing he was used to schooling his expression because the deals she got were startlingly good. Fae charm did indeed get excellent prices.

  He wasn’t the only one to think so. It turned out the paper she’d slipped in her pocket was a list of personal purchases for the crew that she agreed to pick up in order to get them the best deals. Those store visits took up as much time as the ones for The Morrigan.

  As the afternoon wore on, Knigh raised his eyebrows and tapped the slip of paper in her hand. “And you always run these errands?”

  She shrugged, mouthing ‘done’ repeatedly as she read down the list. “When we stop in a port long enough. Why?”

  “It takes up a lot of your time – aren’t the rest of the crew on shore leave, enjoying themselves?”

  She blinked at him, a frown on her face followed by a slow smile. “I can help them get more for their money. Why wouldn’t I?” She shook her head as if genuinely confused. “And it’s only time. I have however much of it the gods have given me – either I’ll still be alive to go drinking tonight or I won’t. Nothing I can do about it. Doesn’t hurt to help
my crew in the meantime.”

  He gave her a long look. The notorious Lady Vice ran errands for her crewmates because it was a nice thing to do. And she let the ship’s cat sleep on her bed, despite the fact the creature liked to tuck herself behind his knees or under his chin, taking up far more space than her small size warranted. From how affectionate Barnacle was, frequently demanding chin scratches and treats, it was obvious Vee doted on the little thing.

  It was months ago that he’d received the offer from a member of The Morrigan’s crew to hand over Vice in exchange for pardons, land, and an eye-watering amount of money. The Admiralty had chosen Knigh to negotiate and carry out the arrest. But he’d come up with the plan to stop her sneaking or charming her way out of custody: make her believe herself a privateer, then she’d openly sail for Albion, ready for arrest.

  He’d known she was cunning enough to evade capture or to escape if he’d tried to take her in the usual way, and the stories painted her as charismatic enough to talk her way out of chains.

  He’d accounted for all that, but this …

  “Well” – she squinted up at the sky – “we have one more stop, then I’d say we still have plenty of time for drinking.”

  She set off at a brisk pace, and he had no choice but to shove down his confusion about her, about this plan, and follow.

  When they stopped, his eyebrows shot up. “A book shop?” He looked from the packed display window to her. “What happened to ‘let’s get this over and done with’?”

  “This stop’s for me, and I’m not going to miss my chance, just because I’m playing nanny to you.” She gave an exaggerated shrug. “Of course, if you’d rather get back to The Morrigan …”

  Back with FitzRoy’s resentment and the vague threat of any crew left on board. He lifted his hands. “Oh, no. I’m not in any rush.” He opened the door and inclined his head. “Madam.”

  As she strode in, her chuckle blended with the chiming bell overhead.

  The elderly shopkeeper gave her the same warm greeting the others had. His blue eyes twinkled, lively even though he had to be in his seventies. “Still driving a hard bargain, Vice?”

  She picked up a book from one of the many shelves and flicked through it. “That depends, Waters – are you still trying to rip me off?”

  He blinked slowly. “Would I?”

  “Well, you try” – she returned the book to the shelf – “but luckily I lift something every five visits, so I figure that evens things out.”

  He scoffed. “And you wonder why I have to charge so much.”

  She chuckled and rounded the shelves out of sight.

  Either Waters didn’t care if she stole or he thought she was only joking, because he didn’t make any move to keep an eye on her. He just waved Knigh towards the shelves and returned to the book he’d been reading when they arrived.

  The shop was as well-stocked as any he’d seen, although some books had wrinkled pages and bleached covers from saltwater, and they were all coated in a fine layer of dust as if they’d been here a long time.

  When he rounded the corner, Vee was bent over a book, features drawn together in focus. One finger traced over the page. What held her so rapt?

  He craned to see. “You speak Latium?”

  She jumped, and her gaze shot up to him – she really had been so absorbed she hadn’t noticed him approach. Blinking, she huffed. “What, you’re surprised that a woman who swears with the best of them can also do so in Latium?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “I suppose I shouldn’t be since you seem to –”

  The entry bell rang.

  “Ho, Waters,” a man’s voice said as a single set of footsteps entered.

  Vee’s eyes widened and shot towards the door, but bookcases blocked it from sight.

  Knigh frowned. “What’s –”

  She launched herself against him, hand over his mouth.

  He only avoided slamming into the bookcase thanks to his quick reactions and the strength built through years of drills and hard work. Still, he had to catch her around the waist to keep them both steady.

  But that only pulled her closer. Again, her hand was cool but the rest of her body, flush against his, was invitingly warm, pliant, a pleasing combination of angled muscles and feminine curves.

  Gods damn it, this was even worse than when she’d searched him on deck. With her height and musculature, she fit against him far, far too well.

  She smelled of rain on earth and sweet vanilla pods. That had been the scent in her cabin when he’d first walked in, and he’d had to open the window to blast it away. Now there was no escaping it. It filled his nose, addled his brain, seemed to even seep into his veins, throbbing through his body.

  Her gaze was still towards the door, and she breathed hard and deep as if surprised but trying to stay quiet. Each one of those breaths pushed her breasts into his chest, and his traitorous fingers cupped her waist.

  Swallowing, he released his grip and shook her hand away, trying to ignore his own heavy breaths. Control.

  “Sorry,” she mouthed and lifted a finger to her lips. As if he hadn’t taken the hint!

  “Mr Vane,” Waters said, his tone stiff, “how can I help you this afternoon?”

  Yes, focus on the conversation. That would be a welcome distraction.

  “Seen The Morrigan’s in town,” Vane replied. “I know Vice comes in here. Just looking for her.”

  Vee bit her lip, eyes screwed up in a wince.

  What had she done to anger this Vane character? Knigh raised an eyebrow, but she ignored the unspoken question, gaze towards the door.

  “What a shame,” Waters said, “you’ve missed her. She came shortly after lunch. When she left, she said something about going out with a hunting party this afternoon.”

  “Hunting? Blasted hells. Fine” – the doorbell rang again as the door opened and a breeze flowed in – “but if she comes back, don’t tell her you’ve seen me, right?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr Vane.”

  The footsteps faded, the door closed, and Vee sagged against him with a relieved sigh.

  She took a long breath and grinned. But the smile quickly faded as her eyes met his.

  They stood frozen in place. Somehow his arm had circled her waist again. His fingers dug into her body, attempting to remind him that this was what a woman felt like.

  Her fingers flexed against his chest, and her lips parted. If he bent his head, his mouth would cover hers perfectly. He’d taste her, discover if she was sweet like the mango they’d eaten at lunchtime or nutty like the snacks she kept in her pockets. Lords, he’d learned far too much about her in this short time aboard The Morrigan.

  The fae-touched were meant to be immune to fae charm – even the Duke of Mercia hadn’t been able to use that magic on Knigh, and he was fae-blooded. But maybe there was some way Vee’s still affected him. That had to be it.

  Clenching his jaw, he forced his arms to his side.

  She shook her head slightly and huffed a soft laugh, backing away until she knocked into the bookcase opposite. “Let’s – um –”

  “Yes, dinner.” He nodded and sidled to the exit. Back to the crew, away from quiet alleyways and bookstores. Away from anywhere that left the two of them alone in a confined space.

  Away from temptation.

  A Warning

  That evening, Vee went carousing with the rest of the crew, and Knigh stuck to his cabin. He largely managed to avoid her all the next day, too. He only emerged when he judged it safe – any temptation thoroughly quashed with cold water from the washstand.

  He strode out of his cabin in full uniform. Much better – uniform, cleanliness, order. He could think straight again. His interest in Vee was purely professional.

  Although it had raised an uncomfortable question.

  Who the hells was this woman?

  Was she the bloodthirsty murderer from the Naval reports, the villain who’d looked ready to cut him down on the deck
of The Morrigan less than two weeks ago? Or was she the woman who looked after the ship’s cat, did favours for her crewmates, and was greeted with warmth and open arms by every trader in Nassau?

  There was no way she could be both.

  The stories about Lady Vice had started over two years ago, when he was on the Duke’s flagship, so The Morrigan’s crew had to know her well. So far, he’d spoken to Wynn and Effie, the sisters he’d shown some knots to, but they’d only sung Vee’s praises. He detected some hero-worship there.

  Perhaps one of the men would give him a more neutral account.

  In fact, Aedan, the man from Vee’s boarding party, worked several feet away. His brawny arms strained against the mainmast’s lines as he pulled them taut and tied a knot before coiling the ends. Tattoos across his knuckles read that common sailor phrase – HOLD FAST. He could’ve been any able seaman on a naval vessel. Between his work, his gaze kept dropping over the side with a small smile.

  Knigh slipped in beside him, working another line. “Good morning,” he said with that same casual nod he’d seen the rest of the crew use with each other.

  Aedan grinned. “A very good morning.” He raised his eyebrows and jerked his chin towards the water.

  Frowning, Knigh peered over.

  The crew had rigged a sail over the side, forming a shallow pool for bathing. Naval vessels did the same in the warmer tropical waters. It kept anyone who couldn’t swim safe from drowning and stopped sharks reaching the bathers.

  Half a dozen naked men ducked and scrubbed. Perhaps he would take a –

  A woman rose from under the water, back to him, long, dark hair unmistakeable. Nakedness unmistakeable.

  The breath caught in Knigh’s throat, and his heart took up a quick beat.

  Despite the men around her, Vee shook the water off, reaching back to squeeze out her hair. He could only see her arms, that near-black hair, the curve of her back, and the two dimples just above her rear, which itself disappeared below the water. The other men, though, they’d be getting a full view.