He’d invited Brillack to join his crew after a brawl where they’d both come out unharmed, and their pockets full of other people’s money. Brillack was no more trustworthy than the next pirate, but while the Opal was successful then the crew would remain loyal—Brillack was a competent first-mate, and if truth be told they had become firm friends over the years. “If he doesn’t cause any trouble, we’ll set him down at Jamaica, but you must be as curious as me as to why he was set adrift and where his ship is?”
“If I’m not mistaken, his ship is—was—HMS Expedience. I make it my business to know the naval vessels in the area, and Horton is a well-respected captain.”
“Then what was he doing in a rowing boat with no sign of his ship?”
“Dunno, but I bet we can find out.” Brillack grinned. “There’s not much in the way of information that can’t be bought.”
“I hope I can be persuasive in other ways to get our dear captain to spill his secrets.”
Brillack rolled his eyes. “From what I’ve heard, you’re more than persuasive.”
“I enjoy the spoils of my position.”
“Don’t we all.”
Brillack let him be, and Edward’s mind drifted back to Daniel. He had been serious when he’d said he would not give up on his pursuit. Through all the years, and warm bodies, he’d never been able to relegate Daniel to his past. The watch he wore in his pocket was testament to that, but to hear that he had acted rashly, had allowed himself to be manipulated into giving up the man he loved, hurt more than an open wound. Daniel was right to be angry and upset, Edward was also, it was just that his anger was directed at a dead man. First things first, he needed his crew to see Daniel as any other prisoner, maybe a little more respected than most, but under Edward’s control. Dinner would be a fine place for that. He’d put on a show for both his crew and Daniel. Once they reached Plesmaya, he could try to persuade Daniel that bygones could be bygones. Daniel was a naval officer, a good one at that, so if Edward wanted this to be more than a tryst then he would also need to find a way to make Daniel give up his plans to return to the navy.
But now he had a ship to run, and being caught daydreaming about blue-eyed captains wasn’t going to help his cause. They still had room in their hold, with plenty of fresh water and even some fresh fruit so, if he were lucky, they would have ample opportunity for another raid before they reached Plesmaya.
Daniel would not have described his new cabin as basic. An ordinary seaman could never hope to get a private room, but it was by no means as grand as his captain’s quarters on Expedience. The cabin did not have the luxury of a bed; instead there was a hammock stretched between two joists on the far wall. Since there was no window, the room was dimly lit by oil lamps, one on a table in the corner next to a small pile of books and another that hung from a bracket near the door. Much to his annoyance, Edward had locked him in, but that was not unexpected. He was meant to be a prisoner not a guest, not that he wanted to be roaming around a pirate ship where he was in danger of becoming acquainted with the sharp end of a cutlass.
The lad Edward had called Blot, had delivered a bowl of fresh water to wash in and a pile of clothes. Daniel stripped out of the tattered breeches and shirt he’d been wearing for days, his attention on the water, which was a welcome surprise, a luxury he’d never use in such a wasteful manner on board Expedience. Washing away the salt was refreshing, and the cool water removed the tightness of his skin from the sunburn, even if it was only a temporary reprieve. His face was hot in patches, and his nose was peeling. At some point, he could do with a shave—his skin itched, and he preferred to be clean-shaven, unlike Edward nowadays, who Daniel had to admit suited a beard very well. But Daniel was sure he wouldn’t be trusted with a razor and he didn’t want one of Edward’s men getting near his throat with a blade. His lank hair was loose and annoying, and he wanted to have it tied back from his face.
He picked up the top item on the pile of clothes, noticing that everything he’d been provided was black apart from a pair of thin linen drawers which he was quick to put on. The shirt was made of a soft material, probably silk, impractical for an active role at sea, but then from what Edward had alluded to, Daniel’s nautical abilities would not be up for discussion. Daniel pulled it over his head, the material sliding over his skin in a way that none of his own linen shirts ever did. Next was a pair of cotton slops, closer to what the men would wear rather than an officer, their cut looser than the breeches he wore as part of his usual dress. There was also a pair of boots to replace his old ones, which had been lost at some point between being dragged from his cabin on Expedience and ending up on board the Opal. The boots looked to be too big, but they would suffice for now.
With no wish to become further acquainted with the crew than necessary, Daniel clambered into the hammock. He hadn’t slept in one for years, certainly not since he’d been awarded his captaincy, but he found it very easy to get comfortable and to allow the mesh cradle to support him. Exhausted from his ordeal, and his mind ragged from the shock of seeing Edward alive, Daniel succumbed to a deep sleep.
The violent shaking of the hammock by Blot the cabin boy raised Daniel from the few hours of rest he’d managed.
“What?” asked Daniel.
“Captain says you’re to come and eat.”
“Tell your captain he can go hang himself,” he said, rolling over.
“Daren’t be saying that to him. He’s most insistent—I reckon he wants to show you off.”
Daniel turned to stare at Blot over his shoulder. “Are you always this impertinent?”
“Oh yes,” said Blot cheerfully. “Best come along under your own will. He’s been known to carry reluctant prisoners over his shoulder if they don’t comply, and you don’t seem the sort to like your pride being bruised.”
Daniel sat up and swung himself out of the hammock. He didn’t doubt Blot was telling the truth; Edward had been a stubborn bastard when he was younger, and Daniel didn’t think pirate life would have altered that. Still, it irked that he was to be paraded around as a prize. He had no intention of playing a subservient fool—damn Edward and his desire to boast to his crew.
He didn’t reply to Blot’s cheeky remarks but pulled on the boots and followed the boy out of the cabin and through the corridors of the ship until they reached a room that led off the galley and was lit by lamps. There were six long tables, but only one of them was occupied. Edward sat at the head of the table as if holding court, surrounded by nine men.
“Ah, Captain Horton,” said Edward, getting to his feet, the bow mocking. “Good of you to join us for our evening repast.”
A few of the men snickered, another laughed outright into the flagon he was drinking from. Daniel saw the place set to Edward’s left was unoccupied. Without answering, Daniel walked over to the table and took the empty seat.
Platters of food were brought out from the galley—exotic fruits and nuts, roast meats and fresh vegetables, all foodstuffs that were not readily available on Expedience. By the way the men looked longingly at what was on offer, they weren’t a daily occurrence aboard the Opal either. The men held back on serving themselves until Edward had taken his share and placed a few choice pieces on the plate in front of Daniel.
“Only the best for such an esteemed guest,” said Edward, raising his flagon and drinking to Daniel’s health. “It’s not every day we dine with one of His Majesty’s captains.”
“Guest? Is that what I am? I would’ve thought prisoner was a better epithet.”
“I do have some irons I could slap you in,” said Edward, “but I’d much prefer to play those sorts of games away from the dinner table—wouldn’t want to give my men indigestion, now would I?”
“I’m sure your men’s stomachs are stronger than that, but if they’d like to see me gut you, then I’d be more than willing to let them watch you try and shackle me.”
The pirate opposite, a man with a puckered scar across his left cheek and a grin made more
of gums than teeth, choked on the mouthful of beer he had taken, spluttering loudly.
“Got yerself a live ’un there, Capt’n,” said the man to Daniel’s left. He was older than the others, maybe even in his sixties, which for a sailor was rare, and had a head of wild hair streaked with grey and piercing blue eyes that sparkled mischievously at Edward.
“You know I’m always partial to a man with spirit, Brillack.”
“I fear even you may have met yer match with this one. I’d be keeping a knife under my pillow if I were you.”
“Oh I’m sure, one way or another, Captain Horton will learn how to behave himself,” said Edward, motioning the rest of the men to eat.
Brillack picked a date from a platter and bit into it, pulling a face of pure pleasure. “Most of ’em do—eventually.”
Daniel decided he wasn’t going to be drawn further into Edward’s games and instead concentrated on the food in front of him, finishing off the roast hog and pieces of fresh fruit and ignoring Edward as he bragged about a wild night locked in a cellar with a barrel of port and a pair of non-identical twins. Daniel didn’t want to hear about Edward’s conquests. He wasn’t delusional enough to pretend it wasn’t in part jealousy, not wanting to hear how easy he had been to replace, but at least the bragging shored up his resolve he was right not to let Edward bed him.
The food almost made up for the company. Finding the beer as good, Daniel managed to endure the meal and Edward’s proprietary touches. Edward’s hand rested on his thigh, a solid weight that Daniel allowed, knowing that Edward wanted him to react, and he had no intention of giving him the satisfaction.
The banter between Edward and his crew appeared genuine, and there was a small part of Daniel that wondered how a pirate could garner such loyalty where Daniel himself had failed. They talked of raiding parties and selling looted goods with no worry that he was there or that he could report back to the Admiralty with details of their crimes.
“We should do another silk run,” said the Spaniard, whose name was Carlos. “Your new friend looks good in it.”
“He looks even better out of it,” said Edward.
“That’s not something you’ll have the opportunity of witnessing.” Daniel stood abruptly. “I will return to my cabin.”
Edward’s hand shot out and he grabbed Daniel’s wrist. “Sit down.”
The table fell quiet, every man now watching, waiting for Daniel’s response. Edward’s grip tightened, his eyes narrowing in warning. Maybe now wasn’t the time for a battle of wills.
Daniel sat.
“Good, you’re beginning to learn your place.”
Daniel balled his hands into fists in his lap, ignoring the jeers from the men. As much as he wanted to rail against his treatment, he knew he would have no chance, unarmed, fighting off the pirates. The salacious stares and downright leers from some of them meant it was now all very clear that it was Edward’s protection keeping him from being a plaything for one of the other men. It didn’t mean he had to like it though.
Edward’s hand returned to his thigh, his thumb stroking him almost apologetically.
“I think, gentlemen,” said Edward, “that it is time for me and my guest to retire. Come on, Captain Horton. I will escort you back to your room.”
A round of catcalls and wolf whistles accompanied them as they left the ship’s mess, Edward’s hand on the small of Daniel’s back, guiding him through the corridors to the captain’s quarters.
“Share a nightcap with me?” asked Edward.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Port or brandy?”
Once inside the cabin, the door shut, Edward poured two large measures of brandy from a decanter on his desk and handed one to Daniel. “I had to do that.”
“Of course you did.”
“Those men would happily slit your throat and throw you overboard without a second thought. It was necessary for them to believe you were under my control.”
Daniel knew that, but he was in no mood to give Edward the satisfaction of being right. “From what I saw, they would’ve followed your orders without you having to resort to reducing me to your pet.”
Edward snorted. “Don’t let the dinner table camaraderie fool you, Daniel. There’s no loyalty or devotion on the Opal; our truce is held together by gold and my willingness to share equally any prize we take. My head stays on my shoulders and my body at the helm because I am worth more to them alive than dead.”
“Not all grog and treasure chests; you do surprise me.”
“Yet I’m still on my ship.”
Daniel slammed the glass of brandy onto the table. That was a barb too far for this night. “You can keep your ship, Merric. I hope you enjoy sleeping with one eye open and guard your neck in the night.”
He pushed past Edward, heading back to his cabin, half expecting Edward to chase after him. Daniel wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when a few minutes later the door to his cabin was locked from the outside.
Chapter Four
Edward knew he had not advanced his quest to endear himself to Daniel. His behaviour at dinner had been necessary, but he’d sensed Daniel hadn’t appreciated some of the stories. Part of him had cheered at that—if Daniel was jealous over lovers Edward had taken then maybe he still cared; however, he’d steered the conversation away from such tales, not wanting to make things worse. He had only taken others because Daniel had not been an option—he was a virile man with needs and he wasn’t going to ignore his passions, not after he had thought he’d been cast aside. But that was not the way to argue this with Daniel, who was still angry, and Edward knew better than to antagonise him further. The words they spat at each other afterwards were not his crowning glory. Throwing losing his ship in Daniel’s face was a low blow.
There was no way to change the past, he could not reverse fifteen years; instead, he would need Daniel to forgive him for being so quick to believe the words in that message, for choosing not to return to fight for the love they’d vowed was the most important thing to both of them. Society might not have agreed, but Edward had thought Daniel his perfect match. From what he’d witnessed, Daniel might have changed, hardened by a life in the navy, but he was in other ways the same Daniel Horton Edward had fallen in love with all those years ago. The stubbornness hadn’t changed, and that was probably going to be his biggest obstacle in getting Daniel to give them a second chance at love. Because for all the lovers he had taken, not one of them had been able to erase Daniel.
No one had come close.
He wanted to offer an olive branch. Having seen Daniel rub at his jaw throughout the meal the evening before made Edward think he might appreciate a shave. He’d long given up trying to maintain a smooth chin when at sea, but he had the means to do so. After collecting his own razor, bristle brush, and a bar of soap, he headed to Daniel’s cabin, unlocking the door and not waiting to be invited in.
Daniel was in his hammock, reading. “Oh, it’s you.”
“I thought you might like a shave. You could never bear to have a beard when you were younger, I doubt that has changed.” He set his shaving articles on the small table, pouring some of the water into a bowl.
Daniel didn’t move. “What do you want?”
It seemed Daniel was still a suspicious bastard. “Can I not do something nice for you without a motive?”
“Unlikely.”
Edward pulled out a chair. “Come on. I know your beginnings of a beard will be driving you mad. Let me help.”
“You could help by giving me a looking glass, and I could do it myself.”
Edward patted down his person and grinned. “It seems I forgot to bring one.”
“You expect me to let you near my throat with a razor? Even if you weren’t a pirate, you appear to have forgotten how to shave yourself.”
“I am hurt, Daniel. You do not like my beard?”
Daniel huffed. “I do not have an opinion on liking it or not, I merely bring into question whether a
man who wears a beard would be the right person to shave another since they are not able perform the task on their own face.”
“You are in no danger from me. I have made it quite clear that my intentions require you to be perfect and intact.” He tried for a charming smile, but Daniel didn’t move. “Can’t you see I am trying to apologise for yesterday?”
Edward told himself to be patient. Even as young man, Daniel couldn’t be rushed. With a quiet sigh, Daniel levered himself out of the hammock and sat in the chair.
“I am allowing this because it is a lesser annoyance than my beard.”
“Naturally.”
Daniel’s hair ran to his shoulders, a manageable length for life at sea, and shorter than Edward’s own, but he couldn’t imagine Daniel was the type to let his hair hang free. “Would you like me to tie back your hair?”
Daniel seemed uneasy, as if not used to someone touching him. It saddened Edward to see it—the young Daniel had loved to be touched. More tactile than most of the men he’d met, but now that was not the case.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” came the careful reply.
Edward untied one of the thin strips of leather he had around his wrist and gathered Daniel’s hair, ignoring Daniel’s flinch at his first touch. His hair was drier and coarser than Edward remembered, but a life out in the elements would cause that, and not even a fancy hair pomade could make up for the abrasive sea air. He tried not to linger but he could not resist stroking Daniel’s nape, thinking it ridiculous that such a small thing could give him so much pleasure. Daniel’s shoulders stiffened in response.
Quickly, Edward tied the thong in place. “Better?”
“Thank you.”
Daniel sat rigid, his back straight and his shoulders squared, as if any softness would be a sign of weakness. Edward set to work lathering his soap with a little water and loading up the bristles of his best shaving brush. He placed another chair next to Daniel and sat. “There’s no need to be nervous. I used to do this for you all the time.”
Captain Merric Page 3
