Savage of the Sea (Pirates of Britannia: Lords of the Sea Book 1)

by Eliza Knight

  Searching the beach, he made out the retreating figure of Van Rompay slipping up the stone stairs carved into the side of the cliffs.

  “Ye’re not getting away from me this time, ye bastard,” Shaw growled.

  He took off at a run, blocking a pirate who swung his sword, and leaping over another that tried to drag him down to the ground. No one was going to get in the way of him exacting vengeance on Van Rompay.

  And then Constantine joined him, mouth hard in a firm line and eyes blazing with power and rage. Blood splattered across his face, covered the bruises from their earlier skirmish. “Let me, Savage. He’s mine. Trésor Cove is mine. We made a deal.”

  Shaw let out a frustrated growl. He wanted to be the one to end that bastard’s life, but knowing that Constantine had a greater debt that needed to be paid, he would oblige his friend. “Bring me his head.”

  “Aye, you’ll have it.” And then his greatest ally was slipping up the stairs silently behind the man who’d been behind so much torment in both of their lives.

  It was over. Time to return to Scarba and begin anew.

  Time to realize that the woman he couldn’t live without didn’t make him more vulnerable. If anything, he felt stronger.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Hand me that bandage,” Jane ordered Lorne.

  She wrapped it around the now cleaned up wound Alexander had sustained at some point during his captivity.

  “A meal for the lad,” she ordered Jack, who in turn bellowed the order to a swab.

  Since Lorne, Alexander and her Uncle Edward had returned to the ship, she’d seen to it that they were taken care of. Getting each of them cleaned up, fed. As the wife of the captain of this ship, that was her duty, was it not?

  She was just about to order a cot be brought to her cabin for the lad to rest on when she spotted Shaw making his way back toward the ship.

  In the pink and hazy dawn light, he stood upon a small skiff and rowed himself back toward shore. A tall, dark, devastatingly handsome devil upon the gently lapping waves. Behind him, the French cove had fallen, Scottish and English pirates alike were returning to their ships.

  They’d won.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she might have stopped breathing.

  This man, this warrior who floated over the water like he owned the ocean, was all hers.

  Jane ran to the side of the boat, hands splayed on the wood, taking in the sight of him as though she thought the sea were playing tricks on her. And then a second later, he was there at the bottom of the rope, climbing swiftly as though his own weight were nothing, hand over massive hand, eyes on her the entire time. At the top of the ladder, he gazed at her for half a heartbeat before his lips crashed onto hers. She didn’t even feel him climb over the side or lift her up and carry her up the stairs to their cabin—which at the moment she was eternally grateful she’d not gotten around to ordering a cot placed in for Alexander.

  Their lips were molten, and the kiss so passionate, she didn’t notice Shaw shredding the clothes from both their bodies. She was so intent on his kiss, on the press of his hard body to hers, she hardly felt it until he came crashing down on her, his skin sliding naked over hers. The heated contact of his rigid body, full of steely muscle, pressed to her softer self, the tickle of his hair on her bare skin. Heaven help her…

  “Oh, Jane, my love,” he murmured against her ear, sending frissons of passion and need sweeping through her from head to toe. “When I thought of ye leaving me…”

  “I would never leave ye.” She pressed heated kisses over his face, tugging him closer, wishing to melt inside him. “Even when I said it, I couldna do it. Ye’re a part of me. Ye have been for years. There is nothing that could make me go.”

  “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry for the things I said. I’m so sorry they captured ye. Touched ye. I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her skin.

  “Ye only said those things to keep me safe. Ye didna order them to take me from our cabin.” She clutched his shoulders, scraping her taut nipples against the expanse of his chest and shuddering. She wrapped her legs high around his hips, needing him to take possession of her. “I’m safe. I’ve always been safe, because of ye.”

  “I never want ye to be used like that. To be a pawn. That is not what I want for ye.” His lips trailed over her chest, taking the nipple she offered into his mouth and sucking deep.

  “I know, Shaw, I know.”

  “God, I love the way ye taste.” And he moved lower, nipping at her hip as he pressed her thighs wide with his hands and gazed at the very heated, hot center of her. “I want to taste all of ye.”

  Jane allowed him to slide his tongue along the seam of her mons, to tease her for a few moments, but what she really wanted was for him to be inside her. To look into his eyes as he thrust deep, and tell him over and over again how much she loved him, needed him.

  “Shaw, please,” she begged. “I want ye inside me.”

  He growled against her hot core and lifted up, hooking her legs around his hips and placing himself at her center. Gazing into her eyes, he plunged hard, filling her. Owning her.

  “God, I love ye,” he said.

  Jane’s heart melted then, the words falling from her lips in a torrent as pleasure crashed over her.

  Shaw’s thrusts were wild, and she lifted her hips to meet each frantic plunge, desperate for him. Incredible sensations radiated limb from limb, and the intensity of it coiled inside her. But with it all, as he stared down at her, pure love in his eyes, she knew she’d found her one and only, her true love.

  t

  Lying in bed two days later, Jane curled on her side around Shaw, drew circles on his chest.

  He coiled her hair around his fingers. “We’ll be arriving in Scarba soon.”

  “I want to meet the mysterious King MacAlpin.”

  Shaw chuckled. “He’s terrifying.”

  “He canna be as terrifying as ye, Savage.” She placed a kiss over his heart.

  “Where do ye think I learned to be this ruthless?” Shaw stiffened. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath, sitting up, and then swiftly leaving the warmth of their bed.

  “What is it?”

  “I dinna know. But the men are disturbed by something.”

  How could he even tell? He’d mentioned that since they’d returned from Trésor Cove, his senses had been heightened, and that he believed that allowing himself to love her had actually set him free of the prison he’d been keeping himself locked up in. Whatever that meant. She was just happy he was happy, and she’d never experienced such bliss in all her days.

  Shaw quickly drew on his breeches and top, not bothering to tie the laces as he charged from the room, turning around swiftly to grab his sword as he went.

  Jane quickly dressed, just in case they were about to be boarded and another heinous pirate thought it a good idea to take her in hand. She shuddered at the thought of the last bastard to have done so. Then snickered at her use of bastard. She really was becoming like her husband.

  She wrapped a gold-braided belt around the soft, practical, green wool gown. As it turned out, the sea spray wasn’t what ended up ruining her beautiful blue silk one, but Shaw’s primal need upon returning from battle when he’d fairly ripped it from her body.

  Before she’d put on her shoes, the ship jolted with the force of their own cannons firing.

  “Nay!” Not again! They were so close to home.

  Home.

  Though she’d only been to the castle on Scarba once, she would make it her home. Any place that Shaw was would be her place.

  And no way in hell was she going to let anyone attack her home.

  Jane marched to the cabinet full of weapons and yanked open the doors. The crossbow was hanging in the exact same spot it had been in before. She grabbed it along with the quiver and a dagger that she tucked into the braided belt at her waist.

  If she was truly going to embrace being a pirate’s wife, the mistress of Castle Dheomh
an, she had better start by defending her prince’s ship.

  Jane opened the door, the crossbow hanging at her side, and was momentarily stunned.

  They were not just being attacked by anyone—it was their greatest enemy. Livingstone.

  She’d not seen him for five long years, and she could have lived happily never seeing him again. He stood at the bow of his ship, staring right at her, an evil grin on his face as though he were saying, I’ve got ye.

  Shaw, catching sight of her, bellowed, “Get back inside.”

  Livingstone might have opened fire, but the Devils of the Deep were quick to return the fire. This time, Livingstone had brought reinforcements. There were three of his ships compared to Shaw’s four, which weren’t good odds for the royal vassal, but it appeared the man had drawn a line in the sand and was bringing this fight to full closure.

  “Bloody fool,” she murmured.

  The other ships belonging to the Devils of the Deep moved in on the two ships flanking Livingstone.

  Jane could barely hear herself think, let alone the repeated bellows from her husband. All around her, men cried out as death met them at the end of a blade or they were torn apart by cannon fire, speared by flying pieces of splintered wood. This was the French cove all over again, except victory wasn’t so easily predicted.

  “For the love of God, get back inside,” Shaw shouted at her again.

  Stunned, Jane glanced down at the crossbow in her hand and realized how foolish she’d been to think she’d be able to help. Already she was distracting Shaw enough that he didn’t have his full attention on the battle. So she did as he asked and backed into the cabin, shutting the door behind her, pressing her hand to the wood and breathing deeply. That was the best way she could help him—not to be in his way.

  There were a lot of things Jane could do. She could tend the sick, mend clothes, run a household and please her husband. But she was no help in battle. She’d only be in the way.

  “Nay.” She stared at the splintered bar that had yet to be replaced because they’d been so busy in their love nest.

  There was no way to block a man out as all the furniture in the room was nailed to the floor. Well, if anyone were to break into the cabin, she would blow them away with the crossbow. No one was going to take her like they’d done before.

  She just prayed the next man to walk through the door was her husband.

  Jane wasn’t certain how much time had passed between sitting on the chair to stare at the door, and when the cannon fire finally ebbed. But it was long enough that she was trembling and fairly certain Shaw was dead and she would soon be Livingstone’s victim again.

  So when the door handle lifted, she cocked the crossbow, lifted it and closed her eyes.

  “Open your damn eyes and put that thing down afore ye shoot me!” Shaw’s voice was a welcome relief.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she almost dropped the crossbow in her haste to run to him, but instead she hurried to unhook the latch and then bolted into his warm embrace. She didn’t care that he was covered in dusty ash and blood. She just wanted to feel his arms around her.

  “Come. I’ve a present for ye.” His voice was gruff, gravelly from yelling.

  “A present?” She shook her head, confused. “Shaw, we’re in the middle of a battle.”

  He shook his head. “It is done. Now come collect your gift.”

  “Done? Livingstone?” She bit her lip, not daring to hope that they wouldn’t be bothered by him every again.

  “Come, and ye shall see.”

  “All right.” She hooked her arm around his and followed him out of the cabin, fearful that she’d see their enemy skinned and hanging from the gibbet.

  Well, he had all of his skin, and he wasn’t hanging from the gibbet, but Livingstone was sputtering mad and tied to the mast. Several of his men were kneeling on the ground around him.

  Shaw hadn’t called no quarter. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She expected to come out of the cabin to see complete and utter carnage.

  “I thought ye’d like to witness me dispatching the man who shattered your life.”

  Oh… He’d brought her out to observe the execution. She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. It was one thing to find out after the fact that their enemy had been vanquished in battle, but to attend the execution of a defenseless man tied to a mast… It left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew this was the pirate life. That she should accept it. But perhaps just this once, as he’d claimed Livingstone was her gift, she could beg a pardon.

  “Do ye have to kill him?” Jane implored Shaw with her eyes, though she’d said it softly enough not to let anyone else know just what she’d said. No use having her husband angry at her for trying to go against him in front of his brethren. “If not for him, I would never have met ye.”

  Shaw grunted. “Dead men tell no tales, love.” The struggle in his visage was real. He wanted to give her what she wanted, but he had a duty to see his people safe, and a reputation to uphold. “But perhaps, we can leave his death up to Fate, given he did bring us together.”

  At that, she quirked a brow and saw that his gaze had gone out toward the open sea. This was the perhaps the most mercy that Livingstone could ever hope to receive. “Aye, up to Fate.”

  Shaw glared at Livingstone, and for a moment, judging from the anger on Shaw’s face, Jane was pretty certain that her gentle warrior had changed his mind. But then his lip twitched in a cruel smile. He pulled out his sword, and Jane stiffened. He had changed his mind.

  When he brought the sword down on Livingstone, Jane closed her eyes, unable to watch. But then she heard his next words, and they had her peeking through them again. He’d not hacked the man down, but instead cut through the ropes that had tied him to the mast.

  “Jump,” Shaw said. “If the fates be kind to ye, ye’ll float all the way back to the mainland.”

  Livingstone swallowed hard, perhaps deciding whether it would be better to just accept death as his fortune, but then he nodded and leapt into the water with a great splash. They watched as he proceeded to swim like a maniac toward shore.

  “Slow down, else ye tire too quickly and drown,” Shaw warned.

  Jane tucked her arm around her husband’s, giving him a squeeze and smiling. “I’m impressed, husband. Ye didna have to warn him of the risks of exhaustion.”

  “Nay, but then I’d not be living up to my promise to ye to give him a chance.”

  She smiled and curled into him. “How could I have ever thought ye werena honorable?”

  Shaw chuckled and pointed at the carnage of Livingstone’s ship. “I have no idea, we’ve only destroyed a king’s ship and sent a government official to swim with the sharks.”

  “Where are the rest of them?” But as she asked, she searched out the horizon and saw that the royal vessels had abandoned Livingstone to his fate. “Now what?”

  “Perhaps now I shall present to my father, King MacAlpin, his new pirate prince.”

  “New?” Jane frowned. “What do ye mean?”

  “Aye, new. Did ye not see the way Alexander’s eyes glittered during the battle? Forget ruling Scotland, he’s got the blood of a pirate in him.”

  Jane laughed, gazing out over the ship to see that Alexander was pestering Jack with a million questions at once.

  “Aye, husband, I think ye’re right. But where will that leave ye?”

  “We’ve got many years yet before he would take my place. Until then, I plan to sweep my wife off her feet and give her every jewel her heart might desire.”

  Jane clucked her tongue. “Only if it is paid for.”

  Shaw chuckled. “Aye. Paid in full.”

  “And not with blood.”

  He bent to kiss her then. “Ye do recall I’m a pirate, nay?”

  “A most noble and honorable pirate.”

  “Only when it comes to ye, my love. Only ye.” With that, he shouted orders for the men to make haste to the dock, and the
n whispered in her ear, “For I’ve a lady to conquer.”

  Epilogue

  One year and one month later

  The great hall smelled like a damned garden.

  Shaw scowled. Why had he brought his wife all those sweet-smelling dried herbs and flowers, and the scented oils from the Barbary ship he’d sacked?

  “Where is everyone?” he called out.

  The great hall was empty, not the usual den of debauchery. The hearth was in full blaze, but no one was tending it.

  “Oh, there ye are.” Jane came flouncing from behind a screen at the back of the great hall that hadn’t been there before.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Oh.” She grinned, glancing around herself with pride. “I just made it a little more…hospitable.”

  What was he missing? “I thought it was plenty hospitable before.”

  “Oh, ’haps for a bachelor pirate, but not for his wife. Trust me, the last thing I want to see as I grow fatter are the brazen lassies flaunting their wares.”

  “As ye grow fatter?” That didn’t make sense. He’d not been gone long, a few months perhaps. But he’d made sure to return just now, as it was November, and the anniversary of the day they’d met.

  Jane pressed her hands to her belly, and he noticed then the swell beneath her gown. How the hell could he have missed it? She was fatter.

  “Plus, I didna think it right for our child to be born into a den of iniquity.”

  A child? She was holding her belly. There was the rounded swell… Why did he feel like he’d suddenly lost the capacity to think clearly? Did that mean…? “Ye’re with child?”

  Jane beamed up at him. “I am. ’Tis yours, in case ye were wondering.” She winked at him in that teasing way she had. “Constantine did stop by to see about another arrangement with ye, but I assure ye I didna let him in my bed. Though I was tempted after ye left me for so long.”

  Shaw snorted, though inside there was still a slight twinge of jealousy that Constantine had seen her before he had. “Och, lass, do ye want me to go to battle?”