Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides)

by Vinet, Lynette

  Lark stirred, and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her with a lazy smile that speeded up her heartbeat. “We’ve overslept,” he told her. “My men must be wondering what sort of ship I’m running for the captain to sleep so late.”

  Stretching like a well-fed feline, Marlee could only nod in agreement. A mischievous grin turned up the corners of her mouth. “Tell them that I’ve kept you a prisoner, that I refused to let you leave your bed. Maybe they’ll forgive you.”

  “I rather think they’d envy me instead.” Lark leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. Her ardent response immediately caused his eyes to flame. “But I’m captain of this ship and Holcombe is capable of seeing to things. Why should I get up when I have a willing, warm wench in my bed?”

  Marlee wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Why indeed, my lord?”

  It was high noon before they emerged from the cabin.

  ~

  Ships continually docked at Bermuda’s busy harbor. The king’s navy logged in each new arrival and patrolled the seas in the vicinity, ever on the lookout for pirate ships. Sometimes a pirate ship wouldn’t be spotted, seeking safe haven in isolated coves. Such was the case only the day before. Word had reached the island about a possible pirate sighting and Lark, well known for pirate hunting, had taken out his ship to search and found nothing. No pirate vessels were sighted on the open seas for the small sloop had already successfully slipped into its hideaway.

  The military men of his majesty’s navy were more than a bit worried about pirates. A large frigate was due to arrive at Bermuda any time now from England. Its eventual destination was Virginia, and the cargo was gold bullion, being sent from a London counting-house to the governor’s palace in Williamsburg. The ship would dock in Bermuda for a day before sailing to Virginia. All of this information was supposed to be a well-guarded secret, but three pirates had already learned about the bullion and even now were prepared to report back to Manuel Silva, their captain, with the information.

  But the gold bullion wasn’t the only thing they’d bring back to Silva.

  “There she is,” the pirate named Renaldo nudged his companion, Domingo, from their hiding place behind wooden crates on the dock. “She is Silva’s woman, I remember her well from the night we dined with her.”

  “I don’t know,” Domingo said, carefully considering the beautiful young woman who walked on the deck of an English ship. “Maybe.”

  “She is the one. You don’t remember too well because you didn’t take your face out of your plate that evening for more than a second.”

  “Sí, Manuel does have the best food—”

  “Shut up about food and pay attention,” Renaldo insisted. “If we take her back with us, then Silva will be most appreciative. Perhaps our reward will be a larger share of the gold.”

  “Sí. Much gold will buy much food.”

  Renaldo scathingly glanced at his companion’s more than amply shaped stomach. “We’ll go back to the sloop. Diego is waiting for us there. He might be needed when we kidnap the señorita tonight.”

  Like silent birds of prey, the two men slipped quietly away from the harbor.

  ~

  It was the smell of smoke coming from the galley that alerted Lark and his crew. He and Marlee had been dining in his cabin when they’d heard the excited cries of “Fire!”

  “Get off the ship and wait on the quay until the fire’s out,” was the only thing he said to Marlee after he’d grabbed her hand and rushed her up the stairs to the upper deck.

  “But Lark—” she began to protest but thought better of it. Lark knew what was best, and she trusted his judgment.

  The crew dashed past her, many of them formed a line from the quay to the ship where they passed buckets of water to douse the flames in the galley. She decided to help, too, for the ship was important to Lark and he couldn’t lose another one.

  She found a place in line beside Todd on the quay; they were soon joined by sailors from other ships and passersby who eagerly offered to help. The buckets brimmed over with water and were passed along the line as quickly as possible. A large group of people had gathered to watch, and Marlee found herself being pushed backward into an alley by two staggering men, apparently drunk, who broke through the line.

  “Stop!” she cried when her backside smacked into a wall. The wind was knocked out of her and she dazedly viewed the two men converging as one against her. They rammed into her, the musty scent of their sweating bodies filled her nostrils and then a large hand was placed over her mouth. Her fingers curled into claws to defend herself, but one of the men grabbed her wrists and painfully pulled her arms behind her back, swiftly tying them with a piece of leather. What was happening to her?

  One piercing scream was torn from her throat before a dirty cloth was thrust into her mouth, nearly choking her. She was hauled from her feet and slung over Renaldo’s shoulder and no amount of kicking on her part could free her.

  “She’s a spirited one, Manuel will be pleased with us,” declared the pudgy Domingo as he tried to keep up with Renaldo. A third man, Diego, suddenly appeared at the end of the alley. He clutched a burning torch in his hand and waved them forward.

  The three men bolted down a side street with their kicking captive. Domingo, however, grew winded and his pace started to slow. “Keep up,” urged Renaldo when they neared the moonlit beach and headed for the cove at the other end of the island where the sloop was hidden.

  Though Domingo tried his best, he couldn’t keep up. His breathing was labored and his legs weakened with each step until he’d fallen far behind his comrades. “Wait—please—” he called but his friends didn’t heed him. Finally, he fell onto the sand and gasped for air.

  Renaldo turned and saw his comrade. He stopped with his kicking burden. “Domingo needs our help,” he shouted to Diego who was sprinting ahead. Diego halted in midstride and might have offered assistance to his fellow pirate, but in the clear, quiet night he heard the distant shouts and could see flickers from the torchlights that were headed in their direction.

  “We’re being pursued. Let the ton of blubber fend for himself. I’ve no use for him anyway, neither does Manuel. Hurry, we’re near the sloop!” he cried to Renaldo and started running.

  Renaldo’s indecision was etched upon his face. He hated not helping Domingo, but the thought of being captured by a group of English dogs made up his mind. He left his friend to face the fury of the English.

  Lark’s heart threatened to burst from his chest. He’d never ran so hard in his entire life, he’d never experienced such unbridled cold fear before, either. The beach was as familiar to him as the back of his hand, but tonight the moon ominously glowed and everything looked foreign. Not even the torches that he, Todd, and Holcombe brandished provided any comfort. If not for Todd, who had witnessed two men dragging Marlee away and who now ran furiously beside him, he’d never have known of Marlee’s kidnapping. At first, he’d felt fortunate that Her Ladyship was saved from total destruction. Only a small portion of the galley had burned. But now, Marlee was being spirited away from him, and if anything happened to her, he wished to die.

  Holcombe ran a bit ahead of Lark and suddenly halted to a grinding stop on the beach. “I’ve found one of them, Captain!”

  Seconds later, Lark was upon the cowering and out-of-breath Domingo. The pudgy pirate held out his hands in supplication. “Have pity, señors, have—mercy—upon—me.”

  Lark instantly recognized Domingo as one of Silva’s men. “Where is the woman?” Lark grasped the collar of Domingo’s shirt, squeezing the rest of the breath from him. He’d have gladly choked the white-faced man, but he needed to know about Marlee, so he released the pressure when he saw Domingo’s eyes bug.

  “Aaagh!” Domingo drew breath at last. His friends had left him, and at that second he hated Renaldo and Diego more than the cruel Englishman. He hoped the Englishman found them and killed them for leaving him here to be captured.

 
; “Tell me where she’s been taken?” Lark persisted in a voice that cut through the night like the cold blade of a rapier.

  “The cove—that way.” Domingo weakly pointed in the direction. “There’s a sloop—”

  Before Domingo could finish, Lark bounded away, kicking up the sand in his feverish haste. His heart wildly thumped inside his rib cage. This couldn’t be happening again to him! Bettina had been taken away—and now Marlee, the only woman he’d ever loved. And once again, he had Manuel Silva to thank.

  His legs swiftly carried him to the cove. With the moonlight sparkling across the water, he clearly made out the dark-shaped silhouette of the sloop. And then he saw the two men rushing toward it and Marlee who was slung over the back of one of the men. Rage and pain flared within him. He dropped his torch and reached for the knife at his side in one motion, but for the first time in his life, he was without a strategy. He didn’t think about his next move. Instead, a sound of pure agony and anger was ripped from his throat and he hurdled carelessly toward one of the men.

  Knocking Diego from his feet, Lark straddled him and lost his knife in the process. Diego had heard Lark’s anguished cry. Aware of pursuit, he was prepared for an attack. Whereas, Lark had acted on instinct, Diego acted out of cunning. Within his hand was a sharp, little knife with a jagged edge that not only inflicted immense misery but was also coated with a poison that left even the strongest of men burning with pain. No sooner had Lark tackled him than Diego’s blade struck into Lark’s right shoulder.

  “Son of a bitch!” Lark cursed and attempted to wrest the knife from Diego, but he didn’t anticipate the searing pain which left his arm and shoulder area suddenly weak and powerless. Diego pushed Lark from him, though Lark valiantly tried to control him with his left hand. It was then Diego had the advantage for Lark fell backward onto the sand. Once again, he viciously thrust the knife, targeting Lark’s abdomen. Lark moved just as the knife jutted into his side. A shaft of scorching pain, unlike anything Lark had ever experienced, ate through him and incapacitated him.

  “English dog, I shall end your pitiful life.” Diego’s malevolent hand rose up but the sound of Holcombe’s shouts stalled him.

  “Diego, hurry!” yelled Renaldo from the sloop.

  “You’re lucky I’m in a hurry,” Diego said and smirked before rushing to the waiting sloop. Just as Holcombe came into view, the sloop sailed swiftly away.

  ~

  Dawn was breaking upon the horizon when the sloop met up with Manuel’s brigantine. Marlee was hauled aboard by Renaldo and brought to Silva’s cabin. Renaldo unceremoniously placed her on the floor bound and trussed like an offering of thanksgiving before Silva, who had just finished dressing.

  “Diego and I have brought back your woman, Captain.” Renaldo flashed a proud smile.

  Silva glanced down at her in disinterest. “Sí, you have done well. Now go.”

  “But I’ve information about the frigate—”

  “Go now!”

  Renaldo quickly left the cabin.

  Silva stood over Marlee, daunting in his physical strength and height. Dressed all in black, he resembled a crow. His dark eyes appraised her, seeming to strip her of the pink and white calico gown she wore. His malicious smile chilled her, but she refused to cower. In an outward show of defiance, she straightened her shoulders and impaled him with a dark, hate-filled gaze. Yet inside, Marlee quivered with fear.

  “So, you’ve been returned to me, and much worse for wear, I think. What happened to the pretty red silk gown I bought you? It seems your beloved Lark doesn’t outfit you as well as I. How foolish of you to have run away from me.” Bending down, he met her at face level. “I trust that when I remove the gag from your mouth that you won’t scream. Not that it would do you any good. Still, I prefer you to be quiet.”

  Silva took the gag away and then to her surprise, he cut the leather tie that bound her wrists. He caught her hands in his. “Tsk, tsk, Marlee, your wrists are marked. I shall take my men to task for this carelessness.” His mouth was only an inch away from hers. “I know how to tie a cord and not leave any markings on the skin. Soon I shall show you exactly how it’s done and you’ll experience the pleasure with the pain.”

  “I hate you!” she hoarsely whispered, her throat dry and aching.

  Touching her face with his fingers, he traced a path from her earlobe to her chin and stopped at her lips. “You may hate me as much as you choose. I have no use for your love. Once, I would have welcomed it but no longer. You’re a treacherous bitch but a beautiful one. All I want from you is your sex, the pleasure which your body shall give to me. As long as you’re on this ship, you belong only to me and will service me in any way I wish. And perhaps if you’re a very good mistress, I’ll buy you a present when we reach Saint Augustine.”

  She spat, hitting him squarely on the cheek. Barely flickering an eyelash, he calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. However, he tightened his grip on her wrist, hurting her with his iron grasp. “You English have no manners, but soon you’ll be bowing and scraping to me. I’m master of your body and soul now, Marlee, so stop fighting me.”

  Dropping her wrist, Silva strode from the cabin and shut the door. The bar fell into place with a heavy thud, but Marlee didn’t bother to get up and try the latch. She knew she was trapped.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  “Lucky, that’s what you are, Captain. A less robust man wouldn’t have survived your wounds. And you’re more than fortunate that whatever substance covered the knife resulted in only a temporary paralysis. With a few days’ rest, you’ll be hale and hearty again.” The physician closed his bag and peered through his spectacles at Lark, instantly realizing this was no docile patient.

  “I don’t have the time to lie abed,” objected Lark and lifted himself to a sitting position on his bunk. For a few seconds, the cabin spun dizzily before him then righted itself. He still felt weak from loss of blood yet was more than grateful to have regained physical sensation in his arm and hip. For nearly three hours after his attack, he’d been unable to move. His worst fear was that he’d be paralyzed and unable to go after Marlee, but suddenly the numbness had started wearing away. Evidently whatever substance that had coated the pirate’s knife caused only a temporary paralysis. The next time he ran across the pirate who’d stabbed him, he’d be prepared. And next time was swiftly approaching.

  The doctor shook his head. “You need your rest, sir.”

  “I’ll mend faster if I’m on the open seas,” Lark insisted and rose unsteadily to show the man to the door.

  “I won’t be responsible for your health,” the kindly, gray-haired physician solemnly uttered.

  “Thank you for your help, sir, but I can take care of myself now.” With a weakened gait, Lark pulled himself up the stairs to the deck where he bade the doctor farewell. He called to Holcombe, who instantly scampered down from the rigging. “Have you spoken to the admiral of the fleet yet?”

  “Aye, aye, sir. Even as we speak, the navy is organizing the men. A crew of the king’s finest will accompany us on board while four other ships sail beside us. We lift anchor at dawn.”

  “Good job, Holcombe. Thank you for speaking for me when I couldn’t.”

  “I’m pleased to help you. That Spaniard, Domingo, was also a help. Because of him, we now know that Silva has set his sights on the frigate’s cargo.”

  “Damn the cargo! I don’t care if the bullion is lost at sea, all I want is to find Marlee—and finally rid myself of Manuel Silva forever.”

  “This time we’ll find him, sir.” Holcombe smiled optimistically.

  Lark nodded in grim determination. “Yes, and when I have that mangy cur in my hands, I’m going to end his miserable life.”

  ~

  Manuel’s brigantine was buffeted by the strong winds which rose out of the west. The sky turned an ashen gray before shading to a deep, malevolent purple. Huge waves struck the ship’s hull, lifting it out of the water
then dropping back again with a jarring motion. A storm was fast approaching, the smell of imminent rain filled Silva’s cabin. Marlee tensed in her chair each time the ship heaved upward, and it seemed her stomach followed suit.

  She hadn’t seen Silva since she came on board and prayed never to lay eyes upon the man again. But she knew that soon he’d return to the cabin and she lived in dread of that moment. If only Lark would find her.

  Where was Lark? Would she ever see him again? Had that horrid Diego, whom she’d heard boasting to Renaldo on the sloop about stabbing an Englishman, been speaking about Lark? Not Lark, she prayed, please don’t let the man have been Lark.

  The bar lifted on the cabin door, startling Marlee out of her seat. With her heart thumping out a wild staccato rhythm, she expected to see Manuel. Instead, a thin woman whose dark hair reached to the middle of her calves entered Silva’s cabin while outside, a burly pirate stood guard. She wore a thin red skirt and white peasant blouse, and her feet were bare. Swinging her hips from side to side, she carried a tray that contained a bowl of broth, a piece of hard cheese, and a slice of freshly baked bread which she placed on a table.

  Her dark eyes contemptuously roamed over Marlee. “Captain Silva has sent your supper. He asked me to tell you that he’ll join you when the storm ends. For now, you must eat and wait. He has more to do on his ship than pine after you, English puta.” She spoke with so much vehemence that Marlee flinched. The woman noticed and cackled. “I don’t know why Manuel wants you when he can have me.”

  “Take him, please, for I don’t want him at all.” Marlee recovered herself and stared defiantly at the woman.

  “Bah! You have no taste, puta. Now I, Rosalina Torres, know what a man like Manuel wants from a woman.”