Falling for the Pirate (Entangled Scandalous)

by Amber Lin

  “Report for duty, Bennett.”

  The boy scrambled out and stood. His clothes were wet, as if the water in the bucket had sloshed onto him instead of the fire. He must have helped put it out—and then hid. He was shivering, despite the unusual warmth of the night.

  Nate knelt on the deck, bringing him to eye-level. “Do you want to tell me what you saw?”

  The boy said nothing. Were they back to this? The sullen, angry boy who refused to speak to Nate? But then Bennett burst into tears…and, oh, God. Nate had never seen the boy like this, huddling in on himself, broken.

  “I’m sorry, Cap’n, I’m so sorry.”

  No, he couldn’t mean— “Did you set the fire?”

  “What? No!” A spark of indignation peeked through the tears. “I just— Oh, Cap’n. I was the one on watch duty, sir. I should’ve protected your ship.”

  Shit. Now probably wasn’t the time to point out that there were always two guards, one on the deck and one in the crow’s nest. The only reason Bennett had been assigned such a duty was because they’d expected nothing to happen. But there was always an adult on deck.

  Nate had gotten into his share of skirmishes on the open seas or at foreign ports. However, after a decade of returning to the London docks, this was the first time anyone had ever attacked them here.

  Juliana emerged from belowdecks wearing one of her new dresses. She stood out of the way and watched his men as they poured buckets of water onto the blackened wood, ensuring that no embers had been left.

  Her hair had been hastily pinned up. Moonlight limned her silhouette, from the loose bun to the tendrils curling down her neck. She was beautiful and so achingly fragile.

  Juliana and Bennett and Nightingale—all three of them were his responsibility, all three of them in danger. Because of him.

  Nate steeled himself, and turned back to Bennett. “I don’t blame you for the fire, but I have to know, did you see who started it?”

  “No, sir.” Opaque eyes in a child who had learned very young to lie well. He might not be lying, of course. If a grown sailor hadn’t spotted the assailant, there was no reason to assume the boy had.

  Still, Nate leaned closer. “Bennett, you understand that the safety of the ship depends on finding the culprit. Juliana’s safety depends upon it.”

  Bennett’s eyes widened. “I understand, sir. I— I’m sorry.”

  Nate sighed. Well, perhaps one of the people on shore had seen. They would have been closer. “Here’s what I need you to do. Take one of the boats and row Juliana to the dock. Then take her in my carriage to the house and wait there until I return. This is a very important job, understand? I’m trusting you to keep her safe.”

  The boy nodded vigorously. “You can count on me, sir. I swear it. I won’t let you down again.”

  “Were you at your post when the fire started?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you get buckets to help put the fire out?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then you didn’t let me down. Now go prepare the boat.”

  The boy hurried off, looking relieved. He needed to figure what to do with that boy. More than once, he’d had the impulse to remove him from the crew and put him in a boarding school, though he couldn’t guess why. As a boy, Nate would have despised that. Bennett would despise it, too. It just seemed somehow…safer.

  …

  Juliana waited off to the side, where she would not be in the way of busy seaman. Her position on the periphery also gave her the clearest view of Nate.

  Though, she had a difficult time thinking of him as merely Nate, the man with whom she’d shared the deepest intimacy just hours ago. Now, he was Captain Nathaniel Bowen, his stance imposing, his expression forbidding. She could imagine him in negotiations with far-off traders or battling as he protected his ship from pirates. How her opinion of him had changed—from being the pirate to battling them. From villain to hero.

  After speaking with Bennett and a few other men, he came to her. “Juliana, I need you to go home. You’ll be safe there, and—”

  “But what happened? Please, tell me. Is anyone hurt?”

  His eyes softened. “No. Everyone is accounted for. It was most likely a prank by some passing boys. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Then why do I have to leave the ship?”

  “I’ll be up all night dealing with this. You’ll be better off at the house.”

  The thought of leaving filled her with dread. “I want to stay with you. I won’t get in the way, I promise.”

  “My carriage will take you there. The footman is armed.”

  He thought she was worried about her own safety? The truth was, all instinct for self-preservation had long since fled where he was concerned. Only hours ago she had given him her virginity. She hated to be a wilting violet, but this sudden and dramatic departure was not what she’d expected this morning.

  “Nate, please.”

  He glanced toward the men, then back to her. “The truth is, Bennett was shaken up. I want him back on land until the ship is fixed. You can keep an eye on him for me.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You told him the same thing about me, didn’t you?”

  A guilty flush stained his cheeks. “Not exactly.”

  “Fine. I’ll leave, because you’re busy and I don’t want to be a distraction. But you’ll come and see me soon, won’t you?”

  He paused, seeming almost…shy. It was hard to tell because he still wore no shirt, which distracted her. His chest was broad and sprinkled with coarse hair. His waist tapered into trousers which encased muscular thighs. A shadow of beard darkened his jaw, and his hair, far too long to be fashionable, blew unfettered in the slight wind.

  In sum, he was completely, powerfully male. Nothing about him spoke of shyness or uncertainty, except for the light in his eyes. She didn’t have a name for that light, exactly. Or rather, she had too many words. Affection, lust.

  Love.

  “I’ll come back to you,” he said, his voice low. “That, I promise. I’ll come back as long as you’ll have me.”

  Bands of hope cinched tight around her chest. She cupped his cheek. He looked startled for a moment, but he let her draw him down. What did propriety matter? Everyone on the ship knew where she’d slept. More than that, she wanted the world to know—she was his. And he was hers.

  “I’ll always have you,” she murmured. “As long as you always come back.”

  She pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back with the same fervor—more. He was like a wildfire. She could ignite him, but she couldn’t control the result. He raced over her skin, incandescent.

  He pulled back. “You need to go before I drag you down to my cabin.”

  She smiled. “Soon.”

  “Jesus.”

  But he let her go, because the ship needed him. His men looked to him for guidance, and Nate gave it decisively. She got onto the boat alongside Bennett, but her eyes remained on Nate. She watched him as long as she could while the small boat was lowered into the water.

  Bennett came with her, of course. He huddled on the seat, looking miserable. She wanted to put her arm around him, but the rigid way he held himself told her he wouldn’t welcome such a gesture—at least, not while the other sailors were nearby. Two seaman rowed them to shore, their muscles rippling under the moonlight.

  Were they also assigned to protect her? She suspected they would, if only because she mattered to their captain. It made her wonder if the fire had been more than a prank. The way Nate had rushed to reassure her. The way he had sent her off. And he would lie to protect her.

  But what was he hiding?

  The question dogged her as they climbed the ladder to the docks. Once inside the carriage, Bennett burst into tears. With a sound of dismay, she pulled him into her arms.

  “There, there. It will be all right. You weren’t hurt, were you?”

  “N-no, but he’ll get rid of me now.”

  Lord. “Of course he won
’t! Why would you think that?”

  He shuddered but continued to let her hold him. “That’s what always happens. I get somewhere and think I’m going to stay. But then next thing I know I’m being pushed off to another workhouse or some other apprenticeship.”

  “I’m sorry that happened before, but I’m sure the captain has no intention of sending you away.”

  “He will. You’ll see,” Bennett said, his voice full of scorn and tearful certainty.

  Well, she would discuss the matter with Nate when he returned. The boy needed to be told, in no uncertain terms, that his position on the ship was safe. The boy needed to understand that he was safe. Was it presumptuous of her to assume she could promise that? Perhaps. But she could tell Nate cared about the boy.

  And she would be Nathanial’s wife.

  There hadn’t been time to process that fact before. She’d been caught up in the euphoria of his presence, of his all-consuming physicality. Even here, growing further away with every minute, she could feel him in the carriage, an echo of rough-edged charisma.

  She smiled. She would be near him for the rest of her life. Near him and protected and safe. It felt like a dream—an actual dream, a trick of the mind. In a few minutes, she would wake up and find herself on the streets again, at the bazaar, with nothing but the clothes on her back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nate breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage pulled away. The docks were too exposed right now, too uncertain. He wanted her under armed guard and locked away. He wanted to keep her. A mixture of possessiveness and protectiveness rose up wherever she was concerned. It tied him up in knots, both sides of him warring—one to hold onto her, the other to let her go.

  He still wasn’t sure which was for her benefit.

  He stalked through the crowds on the dock, having come ashore after Juliana left. His men were questioning the people with little luck. A few claimed to have seen someone, but the descriptions were drastically different. No doubt some of them were drunk or hoping for an easy reward. None of the information so far brought them any closer to finding the culprit.

  “Captain?” one of the men asked as Nate walked by.

  “Continue questioning,” he said.

  The men knew they were at a standstill, like a ship without wind. However, something told him to continue the search this night. The air was steeped in anticipation. It rang through his blood, promising vengeance.

  And not only for the fire.

  He stopped to consider. If someone wanted a prime seat for viewing the effects of the fire, where would he go? The best view was directly beside the gangplank, where the crowd had gathered, but that would have been too obvious for even the most brazen criminal.

  Then Nate remembered that night he’d met Juliana, looking out of his porthole and seeing a nimble thief climb the crates beside the shipping offices. There was a straight line of sight from the roof to the ship—and most people wouldn’t think to search there.

  He looked up—and caught a blur of movement over the edge. “Stop!” he shouted.

  There was a clambering noise. The culprit was trying to escape. Nate yelled to his men, who scrambled up the roof using the crates and an escape ladder. If the man was still on the roof, he would be apprehended. But if he wasn’t—

  Nate darted through the crowd and around the building. A dark figure made a jump from the warehouse roof of onto the next building—and fell short. The man caught the edge of the building and hung there. His hands slipped, but he managed to hold on. Barely. The fire escape on that building was only six feet away, but too far for him to reach. By the looks of things, his hold was slipping fast.

  Necessity became speed as Nate scaled the stairs to the second floor. He reached out his hand. “Take it.” He almost slipped when he saw the face staring back at him. “Wilson?”

  “Get the hell away from me,” Wilson spat out.

  “Jesus.” Now wasn’t the time for condemnation—though that would come. “Take my hand.”

  “I can’t trust you!”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  Wilson stared at his hand balefully. He slid down a centimeter, and his eyes widened. On a sudden surge, he gripped Nate’s hand as his hold on the ledge released. Wilson’s body swung, heavy and unruly, banging into the brick wall. Gritting his teeth and shouting the effort, Nate somehow kept him from falling the two-story drop.

  They managed to get to the ground safely—and with Wilson still in custody—with the help of his men, who came running at the sound of their commotion.

  Surrounded, Wilson panted and rubbed his arm. “What are you going to do now?”

  Wasn’t that the question? Nate had a lingering sense of violation, an ancient desire for violence as a preferred form of revenge. But not on this angry young man, whom he’d known as an angry boy. This was Nate’s failure, too, he knew—his failure to reach Wilson in a meaningful way.

  The young man began laughing. It sounded almost maniacal, sending chills over Nate’s skin. He regarded Nate with narrowed eyes. “You threw me out and left the fox in the henhouse.”

  Wilson was clearly baiting him, not to be trusted. Still…

  “Explain,” Nate said through gritted teeth.

  “That fool boy. Bennett. You should know better than to trust him.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Oh, I’d find him all around. Sneaking around the map room or your cabin with no reason to be there. He’s a spy, can’t you see? But you’re too caught up in your damn ship. And your whore.”

  “Get him out of my sight,” he said through clenched jaw.

  His men dragged Wilson away, while Nate remained rooted to the spot.

  Bennett, a spy? Impossible. He hadn’t been with Nate that long, that was true, but he had plucked the boy directly out of a whorehouse. Bennett owed him loyalty, if nothing else.

  But no one knew better than Nate—every man had their price.

  It stood to reason that every boy did, as well.

  …

  In the few minutes it took to reach the brownstone, Bennett fell asleep in Juliana’s lap. She had not had the chance to observe the house at a distance before, and she watched with quickening breath as they approached.

  The buildings on this street looked the same, with only small differences. An extra step or a missing cornice. The carriage slowed to a stop. She peered at the front door, with its brass knocker, before turning to rouse Bennett.

  He woke with a mumble, unsteady on his feet as she helped him down. The carriage pulled away, the guards quick to return to their fellow sailors. Well, that was fine.

  She used the brass knocker as the carriage pulled away. No one appeared.

  She tried again, but still no one came to the door. The street was empty of all other persons or carriages. In a respectable neighborhood, no one would loiter in the street at this hour of night. And, apparently, no one would let them inside. Bennett looked exhausted, half asleep where he stood.

  With a forced smile, she said, “We’ll just go around to the back.”

  Unfortunately, the back door was also locked. Confound it.

  She knocked vigorously, earning a crash and curse behind the door. “Aha,” she muttered. “Found you.”

  The door opened a crack, revealing only a sliver of shadow…and the barrel of a pistol. “Who’s there?” a man’s voice demanded.

  Juliana gasped and moved to stand in front of the boy. Before she could even guess at the identity of the questioner, she blurted, “Nate sent us.”

  “Ma’am, if I am to believe that, you’d have to tell me your names.”

  “I’m Juliana.”

  A sharp laugh emerged. “I don’t plan on letting any Julianas inside this house. Or anywhere.”

  “Look here, I don’t know who you are, but Captain Bowen sent us here to rest for the night. And if you’re not going to let me in, then at least let the child in. He works on Nightingale and had quite a scare earlier.”


  There was silence for a moment. “All right, then. Come inside.”

  The man’s voice was gruff and almost…approving. Juliana didn’t much care what he thought of her, as long as he let them into the warm comfort of the house. The door opened wider, and to her surprise, Mrs. Wheaton was there. In her nightgown, with her hair rumpled and a frown on her face.

  “I could have told you to let her in,” Mrs. Wheaton said.

  “And I would have done my duty, all the same,” said the stranger. He wore an old-fashioned suit and held a walking cane, a rather unassuming figure, and yet she had no doubt he was a formidable enemy, even without the pistol he had now pocketed.

  Juliana moved to allow the footman entry. “Bennett can sleep in my old room.”

  Mrs. Wheaton nodded. “Yes, it will be fastest. You poor dear. Follow me, if you please.”

  Of course, this left Juliana alone with the surly older man. No dull grey for him. His hair was coal black with streaks of shiny silver. The weathered skin and wary light in his eyes spoke of a full life. The way he had looked at Mrs. Wheaton…and her rumpled state…he may not be a servant, but he was certainly on intimate terms with one.

  “What’s this about a scare on the Nightingale?” he asked.

  “There was a fire.”

  “A fire? On the ship? Confound it, why didn’t you say that? Is Nate hurt? Is—”

  “Nate is fine. Everyone is perfectly well. But they had work to do and needed us out of the way.”

  It didn’t matter. The man was already halfway to the door, muttering about being the last to know. He turned back to her at the last moment. His expression was grim, his voice gruff. “Bar the door after I go.”

  She bristled at his autocratic tone, but nodded. “All right.”

  “Let no one inside until Nate or I arrive. And do not leave. Understand?”

  Definitely not an ordinary servant. “Yes, I think so,” she said dryly.

  His glimmer of a smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. He slammed the door, and she moved quickly to follow his instructions. The neighborhood was safe, but it wouldn’t do to tempt fate on what had already been an inauspicious night.

  What if the attack on the ship wasn’t a prank, after all?