by Eliza Knight
And now he found himself having a conscience. Found himself wanting to go and see his wife. Wife! He was married, dammit. Hell and damnation, how had he let that happen? A pirate’s life was not conducive to family. The more ties a man had, the more that could be taken away. On the daily, he was trying to save his own arse and that of his men, how was he supposed to factor a woman into that—and if she ever submitted to her desire for him and they made love, the child that could come from that?
The thought of a child was what kept him away from her these last two nights. He could imagine that child, looking much like himself, standing in the center of a burning ship deck as men fought to the death all around him and the wood turned to ash, the ship crumpling and sinking into the depths of oblivion. Swallowed whole by a kraken.
“Nay,” Shaw growled. He could not have a child with Jane. Which meant he could never make love to her.
Which meant she’d been right when she’d said he wouldn’t keep her.
Och, but that thought had a searing pain tearing through his chest. But this was for the best. For both of their safety.
“Cap’n?” Jack came up beside him. “Did ye say something?”
“Nay.”
He needed to get his mind off his wife. Behind him sailed Constantine with one ship. Shaw had left his other three at Perran with Constantine’s men, as all their ships sailing for London would have signaled to the Royal Navy that they were about to be invaded. Two merchant ships with separate sails and crews would not ring any alarm bells.
By the time the sun set, the Savage of the Sea would be traveling up the Thames River toward London to deliver the message to the Black Knight and Jane’s uncle. Constantine would remain in port with the Savage until they returned with Alexander and his guardians. Shaw had yet to tell his ally just whom they were retrieving, and he didn’t plan on it, as Constantine would most assuredly want in on the take, and the last thing Shaw needed was another battle on his hands.
Already, Livingstone would be tailing them. Even though Shaw had threatened to kill him, he knew that wasn’t enough to stop the blackguard, but sailing into English waters just might.
Hell, disembarking in England was going to be tricky for Shaw. Or maybe he’d get lucky enough since the country was in its own state of turmoil between the House of Plantagenet and the House of Valois over who the succession of the French throne would go to that they wouldn’t even notice them. That damned war had been going on for a hundred years at least. From what Shaw had heard, negotiations between England and France were going nowhere, save for yet another bloody battle. Hell, as a Scot, he knew just how damned stubborn the English were when they wanted an entire country to bend the knee.
Perhaps a Scot wouldn’t be noticed given the county’s current concentration, though he didn’t doubt it was going to be risky infiltrating London. The thought of Jane in danger sent his heart into palpitations, but there was no other way. After careful deliberations with Constantine, Shaw had determined the best way to get the message to Jane’s uncle was to go himself, and the best way to get the man to listen was to bring Jane with him.
“’Tis time to change the flags,” Shaw told Jack. “For the next few days, we are merchants.”
“And what will we be trading, Cap’n?”
Shaw smiled. “Salt.” Constantine had let him borrow crates upon crates of salt, though the bottoms of the containers had been filled with bags of sand. Aboard his own ship, he had pepper they’d stolen together from the Spanish. It was worth a fortune.
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
As they hoisted their vague flag, Constantine did the same.
They sailed into the Thames with no one caring what they were about. His men had cleaned themselves up, looking like a ragtag crew of swabs rather than pirates on the account. Those who’d been growing entire nests in their hair had their heads shaved. All beards were neatly trimmed. The lot of them were almost presentable.
Jane had done her hair up prettily and was wearing the blue silk gown he’d given her. She was a vision, and when they disembarked the ship, the dock master’s eyes were more interested in Jane than they were in the faux manifesto Shaw had cooked up.
They walked along the port, rented two horses and then rode up the cobbled road in the direction the horse master had indicated.
The docks and surrounding neighborhoods in London stank of shite and smoke and decrepit souls. The perfect place for a pirate to find a new crew.
And also the perfect place to hide a king.
They found the house a mile or so away, and when they knocked, it was answered by an old woman who looked to have seen not only better days, but better decades. Gray hair was knotted at the top of her head, and she hunched beneath a threadbare shall, the bones of her shoulders jutting visibly beneath the fabric.
“What do you want?” she barked through several missing teeth and loose lips.
“I’m here to see my uncle.” Jane’s Scottish burr was still evident, though she’d tamed it down, sounding almost like it was in her distant past.
“Who’s that?” the old woman croaked.
Jane straightened, not allowing the woman’s grouchiness to intimidate her. “Edward Lindsay.”
For a brief moment, Shaw was certain they’d been given the wrong address, but then a slim man appeared behind the old housekeeper.
“Thank ye, Helen, that will be all.”
The old woman grumbled something, backing away. She passed Shaw a look that said she’d be watching him. He only raised a brow in her direction.
“Jane, what are you doing here?” Uncle Edward said but did not invite them in.
“Let us pass.” Shaw stepped forward, until he saw that Edward held a pistol in his hands.
“’Tis loaded.” His tone did not indicate a hint of emotion. He could have asked if they wanted a cup of ale for all it revealed. “Do not take another step.”
“Uncle Edward, this is my husband, Shaw MacDougall.”
Edward narrowed his eyes. “Why have ye come?”
“’Twould be best if we spoke inside.” Jane’s tone brooked no argument, and after a lengthy perusal of Shaw, Edward finally stepped back.
“I will not hesitate to shoot either of ye.”
“I dinna blame ye,” Shaw said.
Edward showed them into a darkened drawing room, which was stuffy and musty. The walls had been whitewashed once, but they’d long since turned a dingy yellow, and black near the hearth. The air was thick, as though a window was never opened. “Sit. Wine?”
“Nay, thank ye,” Jane said.
“Good, because I dinna have any. Only ale, and it tastes like piss.”
“I’m sorry the last few months have been so awful for ye,” Jane said.
“Better than dead.”
“That is why we’ve come,” Jane explained. “Livingstone came to Iona. He knows I was there. If he hasn’t already questioned Father, he will do so soon, and then he’ll figure out that ye exist.”
“I see.”
“He will be looking for ye, or he will have spies looking for ye. The Black Knight is known in parliament, someone will point them in your direction.”
Edward nodded, still eyeing Shaw skeptically. “Then it was good of ye to come.”
“Aye.”
“Ye’ve a ship?” He directed his question at Shaw.
Leaning back in the chair, he said, “Aye.”
“When did ye wed?” This time he asked Jane.
“Not too long ago. Shaw can be trusted.”
Edward grunted. “That remains to be seen.”
Shaw chose not to be offended by the man’s distrust as he didn’t trust Edward fully either. “’Twould be best if we left now, while ’tis dark.”
“They are not here.”
“What?” Jane asked, stiffening beside him.
Shaw did not react. He listened and waited to see if Edward would give anything away.
“Lorne took his sons out for entertainment
.”
“Entertainment?” Jane asked, unable to hide her incredulity.
“Aye.” Edward did not appear to be disturbed in the least.
“What kind of entertainment?”
“A boxing match.”
Shaw grimaced. By the casualness with which Edward was relaying the information, it sounded like this wasn’t the first time they had done such things, which meant Lorne and Alexander were probably well known amongst the seedy types. Men who would sell their own children to make a few coins.
“Get them and meet us at the dock,” Shaw said. “Ye’ll know my ship by the wide red stripe down its center.”
Edward nodded, surprising Shaw by not arguing. “We’ll try to be there before dawn.”
“Dinna try,” Shaw warned. “We canna wait long.”
Without waiting for Edward to react, Shaw ushered his wife from the house to find that one of their horses had been stolen. “Ballocks,” Shaw growled. He glanced up and down the street and down a few alleyways to see if the horse had either run, or was still in the thieves care close by, but he returned with no results. Bloody thieves! And, aye, he was aware of how ironic that thought was.
“We’ll ride back together,” he grumbled.
He lifted her up onto the mount and swung up behind her. Och, but that was a torment of the worst kind. Her lush bottom pressed to his lap, warm and supple. Shaw gripped the reins, gritting his teeth against the desire coursing hotly through his veins and pooling in his cock. If only he’d not had to change out of his plaid for breeches, he might have still been wearing his sporran and been able to put a barrier between them.
But alas, inconspicuous garb had been paramount, and so now he had to deal with his breeches growing tight. Ballocks. His blood ran hotter than molten iron as they rode the mile back to the docks. It didn’t help that his little wife squirmed and shifted every few minutes in the saddle.
“Sit still,” he growled.
“There is something poking me.”
For the love of all that was holy… He knew exactly what was poking her. If he wasn’t so frustrated, he might have laughed, but instead he let out a low growl.
“Just sit still, we’re almost there.”
They returned the horse to the master and paid in full—perhaps a bit too much in full—for the one that had been stolen. The sly look in the man’s eye had Shaw believing the horse master might have been the one to send the thief after them. He grabbed the man by the wrist and tugged him close. Before the man could blink, Shaw had a dagger at his throat.
“Are ye playing me, man?”
The horse master’s eyes widened, and he shook his head violently. He stank of greed and fear.
“So, if I go into the back of your stables, I’m not going to find a horse fitting the exact description of the one stolen from me. The one I just paid ye a king’s ransom for.”
Again, the horse master shook his head so hard the skin on his face jiggled. “Nay, sir. But there are so many horses that look alike. How can I say you won’t find one of them looking like the one you lost?”
Shaw growled, half a mind to take the man’s arm off for thieving, but he didn’t want to call any more attention to himself and Jane than he already had. Tonight, he was a merchant, not a pirate prince, and he had to remember that, else have the authorities coming down on him, and ruining his entire plan.
Beside him, Jane was silent, but he could feel her anxiety as though it were his own, so he left the merchant to his thieving ways and took her by the elbow, steering her back toward the ship.
“Do ye think he truly sent someone after us to steal the horse?” she asked.
“Aye. He saw your pretty dress, the cut of my cloak and thought to take us for a few extra coin.”
“I am surprised.”
“I’m not, lass. The dregs of humanity are most alive in port.”
“Why in port?”
“Number of people coming and going. Goods that can be stolen, smuggled. Pirates, the like.”
“I see. Do ye think Uncle Edward will have an easy time coming to the ship then with Lorne and Alexander?”
“Keep your voice down. There are a lot of listening ears around here, lass.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Dinna be sorry, just be careful. I think he’ll figure it out. I’m more worried about the blokes Lorne has met at the betting fights. If he loses and canna repay, they will come after him.”
“And then us.”
“Aye.”
A shiver passed through her, and Shaw tugged her closer. “I’ll not let anything happen to ye, love.”
“But how can I make sure nothing happens to ye?” She truly sounded worried, and it touched him in the deep cavern of his chest.
Shaw grinned. “Ye did say ye were good with a crossbow.”
Jane giggled. “I didna say good. I just said I knew how to load it.”
“Ah, then glad I am ye didna try to shoot me. Ye might have taken out your own foot.”
Chapter Twelve
Jane didn’t let on how worried she truly was, for she didn’t need Shaw to have yet another concern on his mind.
There was something strange in the way her uncle was acting, and she wasn’t certain she could believe that Lorne, the Black Knight, would actually take Alexander to a boxing match. She wasn’t as naïve as Shaw or her uncle might believe. She knew what went on at such establishments. London wasn’t the only place where such seedy activities took place. There had been plenty in Edinburgh, too.
It was obvious Uncle Edward didn’t trust Shaw, and perhaps, he didn’t trust her either. For all they knew, Lorne and Alexander could have been hidden within the dilapidated domicile.
From outward appearances, in his smart cloak, fine breeches and clean-shaven face, Shaw MacDougall looked like he could be the well-to-do merchant he claimed to be. There was not a single hint of the brutal pirate life he led, except perhaps for the hardness in his eyes. The sharpness there gave way to the belief that violence was only a word or gesture away.
But all thoughts of her uncle’s odd behavior vanished the moment they walked the length of the docks until they spotted their ship. A few torches had been lit, and from here she could see that the men were dancing, someone played the fiddle and laughter floated from the deck.
Shaw muttered an oath under his breath and stormed forward, dragging her with him.
When they reached the deck, one stomp of Shaw’s boot and the revelry was silenced.
“Cap’n,” Jack muttered, taking off his beaten cap and placing it over his heart, avoiding eye contact.
“What part of we must lay low was unclear?” Shaw growled, giving each of his men the eye.
Silence followed, no one wanting to take the blame or point a finger, and Jane was worried that Shaw might actually take a whip to them all. Finally, Jack stepped forward, the only one brave enough to face off with their captain.
“We was layin’ low, Cap’n, but then if ye look about, a half-dozen other ships are all muckin’ about and makin’ a ruckus. We thought if we was the only serious lads in port, we would be bringin’ more attention to ourselves than if we acted the part.”
Jane glanced around, seeing that Jack was right. Many of the ships in port seemed to have men enjoying their evening. Laughter floated up from the various vessels, and music, too.
Shaw observed the other ships as well. Constantine and his men were also sitting on the rails and telling stories while passing a jug of spirits.
“Carry on, then. But if anyone takes too keen an interest in the ship, then ye’d best not be too deep in your cups to act the part.”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n. We’ll be sure not to.” A wave of relief crashed over the ship.
Shaw nodded and turned to Jane. “I’ll take ye to the cabin, lass.”
Jane nodded, not wanting to irritate him further, even though she’d rather climb the mast and stake a claim there in order to see more clearly when her uncle finally arrived. He swiped a
jug of something from one of the men, took a long draught and then, rather than take hold of her elbow as he’d been doing all evening, he placed his warm palm on the small of her back and guided her toward the stairs that led up to the captain’s cabin.
Once inside, she took note of the cold supper of chicken, bread and carrots that had been laid out on their table, and her stomach rumbled in answer. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, and given they were so intent on arriving in port, she’d forgotten about supper altogether. A single beeswax candle in the candelabra burned giving off a faint scent of honey. Jane lifted the burning candle to light the others, illuminating the room better.
Shaw watched her with that same intense look he’d had on his face since the day before. Pinched and, if she were to hazard a guess, agitated. It was a wild turnabout from the passion and emotional intensity he’d exhibited. Jane didn’t have a lot of experience with men, but she wasn’t completely lacking in understanding. Shaw didn’t like the feelings he had where she was concerned. Nay, he hadn’t told her as much, but just by looking at him, she could figure it out. And even now, he looked like he wanted to run away from her.
“Please, sit. I’d hate to keep ye from your supper, lass.”
Glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she made her way to the other side of the table, she said, “Will ye be joining me or returning to your men?”
Shaw started to back toward the door but then paused, glancing from her to the table. Finally, he shook his head.
Jane never begged for anything, but he’d been avoiding her lately, ever since telling her of his childhood, and she couldn’t stand the idea of the growing distance between them, even if this wasn’t a permanent situation. Locking her eyes on him, she risked asking, “Please, Shaw?”
From his expression, she might have asked if he would lick her boots. “All right, I will join ye, but only because ye begged.” In a sudden change of mood, he winked when she pretended to bristle.
Good, they were teasing each other. That was certainly a better place than the tension that had filled the space between them over the last twenty-four hours.
