The Ladys Pirate

by The lady's pirate (lit)

  "Not at all, not at all, coz. I'll be going along." Geoffrey accepted his great coat and hat from Patsy then turned back to face Elspeth. "I am, truly, grateful for your continued good health, old girl. Being Earl would be the ruination of me."

  Was that for her benefit?

  "Give my love to your mother and Alex, will you?" Geoffrey opened the door. "What's this?"

  Hal Merritt again stood in the hallway.

  "Hullo." Geoffrey stepped back, apparently ready to slam the door in Hal's face. "I say, sir, who are you?" Geoffrey challenged.

  "I came to bid good night to the Countess."

  Hal braced himself as she imagined he would on a pitching deck: feet slightly apart, muscular thighs straining at the seams of his breeches.

  Elspeth felt a blush heat her cheeks at the impropriety of her thoughts.

  "I believe we bid goodnight earlier, Captain Merritt," she said, her words made sharper than she'd intended by her confusion about Hal's intentions.

  An alarmed expression crossed his eyes, and only then did Elspeth remember his subterfuge. Still it was too late and ridiculous for her to feel guilty. It was his lie, not hers.

  "Merritt?" Geoffrey examined him, top to toe. "You do have the figure of a seaman. Are you Black Hal Merritt? The pirate?"

  Hal returned Geoffrey's study with suspicion. "Have we met, sir?"

  "No, indeed. But please come in. See here, Elspeth, we have a real pirate in our midst. Girl," he motioned to Patsy, who observed the madness from a safe distance. "Bring us some wine."

  Hal hesitated on the threshold. "I don't wish to interrupt."

  "Nonsense, sir. I was just leaving, but since you have arrived, I would hear of your adventures." Geoffrey tossed his coat and hat on a chair by the door, obviously ready for a long evening.

  "But the Countess-"

  "Elspeth doesn't mind our using her parlor, do you, coz?" Geoffrey, with his good-natured oblivious ignorance of propriety, seized Hal by the sleeve and dragged him into the room.

  "No, I suppose I don't mind," Elspeth replied, completely uselessly. Geoffrey was as unaware of sarcasm as he was of propriety.

  Hal gave her a glance of near-panic. Elspeth offered no understanding. If he was going to loiter around her rooms, he could accept the consequences. And the consequence would be having Geoffrey hounding him for pirate stories.

  No matter how tired she was, she wouldn't miss it.

  "Here, we are. I'll take it and you may go." Geoffrey relieved Patsy of her tray. "Let's have a glass of wine and you can tell me all about being a pirate."

  Patsy turned to Elspeth, her face mirroring her question. Elspeth shrugged and took a seat on the settee. As she feared, Geoffrey staked his claim on the chair and shoved Hal toward her. One-handed, Geoffrey set the tray bearing wine and glasses on the small round table between the chair and sofa and proceeded to serve them all.

  "Here you are, coz." He handed Elspeth a glass, then passed Hal his. Taking the third, Geoffrey sat back, staring at Hal with an expectant expression on his face. "So?"

  "What?" Hal asked.

  "What does a pirate do these days? Do you still ply the bounding Main? Avast this and belay that and shiver me timbers?"

  Hal's mouth twitched at one corner, though his eyes were still glazed with confusion. He turned to Elspeth and the delightful bemusement in his brown eyes forced her to laugh at his discomfiture. Then she took pity on him.

  "Geoffrey, Mr. Merritt is not anxious to have his presence become a topic of conversation. He is traveling in England incognito."

  "Incognito! Capital!" Geoffrey twisted his fingers to his lips. "My lips are locked tight as the Bank of England. Won't spill a word. Just dyin' to hear his story."

  Elspeth smothered her amusement and turned back to Hal.

  "Geoffrey is something of a poet, Mr. Merritt. He is always seeking out new sources of inspiration."

  "A poet," Hal repeated, as though not really believing it. "Have we met before, sir? Perhaps in a tavern?"

  Ah, thought Elspeth, realizing at last the reason for his lurking about. He actually thought poor Geoffrey was the man in black. Giggles burst from her throat, which she tried to hide in her wine. Both men stared at her as though she'd gone mad.

  "Don't think so, sir. Don't usually visit taverns. Too rough. No inspiration in them."

  "Do you normally dress in such somber tones, sir?" Hal asked, motioning toward the black velvet of Geoffrey's jacket and the matching broadcloth of his breeches, relieved only by a froth of lace at his collar and cuffs.

  "I find the color suits my mood."

  Elspeth squelched a smile. "Geoffrey is a disciple of Lord Byron and Mr. Shelley. He has vowed to devote himself only to letters."

  "Poetry is the only pure art. Don't you agree, Black Hal?"

  "Indeed," Hal replied without missing a beat. "Poetry presents the soul of man in its most complete form. I would love to hear some of your verse. Pray, sir, do recite something for me."

  Geoffrey's face glowed red. "Well, I... I mean, I would, of course, however..." He pulled at his lacy cuffs. "What I mean is, I haven't yet found a suitable object for my efforts."

  "He means he hasn't written anything yet," Elspeth said.

  "I will," Geoffrey said petulantly. "I just need to find something to inspire me." He sat forward, his whole body projecting interest. "And I believe I have found that inspiration. Do tell, Hal, what is your greatest adventure? I will immortalize it in verse."

  Turning slightly to Elspeth, Hal grimaced. She gazed back at him, anxious as Geoffrey to hear.

  "All right, sir. Let me see. I assume you wish a suitably blood-curdling pirate tale?"

  "Actually, I would like to hear how you fell into piracy."

  He didn't answer for a long time. Elspeth turned to him, studying his face, which was set as in stone, his eyes darkened to a dull black. He suddenly seemed to return to life, his ashen skin recovering color, his eyes lightening, yet, a heaviness had come upon him which did not lift.

  "How came I to be a pirate? Well, I chose to sail the bounding Main, to feel a good ship beneath my feet, to roll with the swell of the wave. The sea is in me blood, saltwater flows through me veins." Hal drained his wine.

  "How many men have you killed?"

  "Alas, only three. I hope to increase my tally, though, it's hard to find a man who will face Black Hal."

  "Good show, good show." Geoffrey chuckled and pulled a small book from his breast pocket. Opening it, he pulled a pencil from the spine and jotted a few notes. "What was your first capture?"

  Hal settled back, obviously more comfortable with the question. "It was a small schooner, sleek and fast with pretty lines. Her color was that of a sweet Cherokee maiden." Sadness flit across his face again. "She sailed into Wilmington harbor to pick up raw cotton and tobacco in exchange for her more insidious cargo."

  A chill scurried down Elspeth's spine. Hal only preyed on March Shipping vessels. What insidious cargo had Richard been carrying? A terrible suspicion formed in her mind.

  "What kind of cargo?" she asked, knowing she didn't really want to know.

  "Human cargo." Hal turned to face her fully. "Slaves from West Africa."

  Her hand flew to her mouth. "No, I don't believe it. Trafficking in slaves is illegal."

  "Indeed it is."

  "Ah, more Robin Hood than Blackbeard, are you?" Geoffrey tapped his pencil on the notebook. "I had a feeling there was more to your story than I had heard. Such as why Her Majesty's Admiralty had never been informed of your predations on British shipping."

  Hal leaned forward, refilling his glass. As he sat back, he asked Geoffrey, "Tell me, sir, how did you hear of me? My name isn't well known, since, as you have pointed out, my victims choose to keep their problems to themselves. I daresay the name of Black Hal Merritt isn't one bandied about. In fact, I don't use it landside."

  Geoffrey squirmed a bit in his chair. "From Elspeth's husband, actually."

  "When?" H
al asked, his voice biting as that of a Queen's Counsel.

  "More than a week ago." Geoffrey relaxed against the back of his chair. "At the club in London. He was in his cups, complaining mightily of all his afflictions." His eyes moved toward Elspeth. "You were at the top of the list, dear coz. He even joked with me about becoming Earl before too much longer."

  "Enough, deHaven." Hal practically barked at him. "There is no reason to go into such topics."

  "Indeed, but Elspeth, you must be careful. I fear your husband means you no good." Geoffrey fingered his collar. "Which I needn't tell you would mean no good for me as well."

  "You do not crave the Earldom, sir?"

  Hal asked the question and sat back watching. Elspeth had never seen such a predatory expression on a human face.

  "No!"

  Geoffrey's answer was too quick, too panicked to be contrived, and Elspeth believed him. He'd been protesting his lack of interest in being Earl Greymere for as long as she could remember.

  "My God, man, the funds would be welcome, that I won't deny, but the responsibility would kill me. I would have to spend more time in London sitting in the House of Lords. When would I find time for my poetry?"

  It took a moment for Elspeth to realize both she and Hal were staring at her cousin in disbelief. Hal was the first to recover.

  "You don't write poetry now."

  "I know. How would I ever write if I were Earl?"

  Hal shook his head. "You did not meet me a week ago at a sailor's tavern, the Scurvy Dog, down on the docks?"

  "No!" Geoffrey shivered. "Scurvy Dog?"

  "Did you offer me a substantial reward to abduct and murder the Countess?"

  "My God, no!" Geoffrey's expression transformed from horror to horrified fascination in a flash. "You don't mean to say, you did abduct Elspeth?"

  "No, I didn't. But someone, someone who went to great pains to put on your appearance, did hire me to do that job."

  Geoffrey preened, as he recovered his composure. "Well, it certainly wasn't me." He pulled his handkerchief from his breast pocket and fanned himself. "I do say, this makes a fine premise for an heroic poem." Seemingly forgetting Elspeth and Hal, Geoffrey set himself to jotting in his notebook. "What happened?"

  "I will tell you someday, Geoffrey, when I can," Elspeth said as she rose. "However, I must ask you gentlemen to leave as I am very tired."

  "Oh, yes, oh, yes. Indeed. Say, Hal, I would be pleased to buy you a jot and get some more information."

  Before Hal could answer, the door flew open.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hal jumped in front of her so quickly she didn't see who had broken into her room.

  "I see you are entertaining, my dear."

  Richard's voice froze her. The cool facade she used to mask her fear of her husband fell into place.

  "Mr. Garcia." Richard approached Hal, who still blocked Elspeth's body with his own. "Still sniffing about Elspeth's skirts, I see."

  Elspeth peered around Hal's shoulder and saw two other men in the doorway. The sheriff of Lancashire and a churchman, probably the local vicar, had accompanied her husband. Why would he bring them with him?

  "Vicar, Sheriff, please," Richard ushered the men inside and settled them. He stood his walking stick against the wall by the door. Then he turned to Geoffrey. "Don't you have somewhere to go?"

  "No."

  Whether he was being oblivious or wanted to see the proceedings or maybe even found himself unable to leave her to her husband's mercies, Elspeth couldn't say, but she tried to signal him with a discrete frown that he wasn't doing her any good by staying.

  Richard glared at the younger man, but didn't pursue the issue. Perhaps he wanted an audience for her humiliation.

  Turning to Hal, Richard said, "And you, sir, surely, you have some business and will leave me and my wife to our privacy."

  In answer Hal planted himself behind the sofa, hands locked behind his back. His stance was that of a captain on his ship.

  "The lady will ask me to go if she wishes it."

  "I wish him to remain, please."

  Her husband's response to her statement was a tick at the side of his mouth. Thank God there were witnesses. She wished Alex were here. He was the only one able to handle Richard when he was in a rage. If only Geoffrey hadn't dismissed Patsy, Elspeth thought, she could at least send for Alex.

  But Hal was still here. He would not allow harm to come to her. With that thought, she relaxed a bit.

  "Sit, my dear. The vicar wishes to speak to you."

  She did as her husband bid, grateful for her champion behind her. Any doubts she had about Hal's intentions faded in the face of the real danger. If her husband was truly transporting slaves on his ships, he would have no compunction about harming her.

  She glanced upward, and found herself intimidated by the looming figures of three men: the vicar, the sheriff, and Richard. Indeed, this no doubt was exactly what Richard wanted. Elspeth steeled herself to withstand the pressure he was bringing to bear. Thankfully, Richard gave way to the man of the cloth.

  "My lady," the vicar said, looking down on her with a beneficent smile. "I am Vicar Lewes of the church here in Lancaster. I understand you are troubled by your duty to your husband."

  A deep, rumbling, growling sound came from behind her. Her champion did not like the question.

  The vicar glanced at Hal, his eyes widening.

  "Ah, well, my dear, your husband says you left his house without permission."

  "Yes, I did," she admitted.

  "You must return."

  "Why?"

  The vicar's expression was one he might have worn had she asked why the sky was blue. "Why? Because husband and wife are one flesh. One without the other is incomplete."

  "What you mean is I am nothing," she dared to say.

  "No, you are the prime jewel of your husband's possessions."

  The words were so ludicrous she laughed out loud.

  "Vicar, I believe you should be informing my husband of the value of a wife."

  Richard stepped toward her. Her champion leaned over the sofa, clearly ready to jump over and put himself between them. Richard stopped.

  Strengthened by Hal's presence, Elspeth determined for once to make the truth known.

  Raising her broken hand, she said, "See the mark of my husband's affection, vicar. Look how he values me. He has shown me none of the tenderness of a husband, but has belittled me, cursed me, terrorized me. Yes, I left. And I will never go back."

  "My dear. This is not permissible for a Christian wife."

  "Is it permissible to return knowing I return to my death?"

  The vicar tsk'ed. "Surely you exaggerate. Husbandly discipline is a necessary part of marriage."

  "This?" She raised her broken arm again. "This is husbandly discipline? Rather more like brutality."

  "Your husband has rights-"

  "Father, I have never denied him his rights. I have been docile and obedient. I have been rewarded with blows and abuse." She straightened her spine. "I am Countess Greymere. I shall not accept such treatment any longer."

  Another sound came from behind her. This time it was approving.

  "Enough of this!" Richard bellowed. "Out, all of you. I shall handle this matter myself."

  "As you have before, my lord?" Elspeth asked. "I shall not return with you to Sandgrove or anywhere else. You might as well kill me and be done with it."

  "Come, come," the sheriff said, trying to calm the situation.

  "Get out!" Richard had the sheriff and the vicar by their respective collars and shoved them out the door. "You!" Geoffrey skittered out before Richard could get to him.

  Only Hal remained.

  "Out, Spaniard. I have no quarrel with you."

  Hal stood his ground. "I will not leave her to you." Tipping his head back, he said, "Elspeth, get a bag with anything you wish to take with you."

  "What? Why?" Elspeth asked.

  He ignored her questions. "
Leave this room now, March."

  "Not until I have taught you and this faithless bitch a lesson." Richard clumped back to the door and picked up his walking stick. He twisted it and drew out a rapier. "After I run you through, I will show your whore who her master is."

  "Run me through?" Hal asked. "Taking rather a lot for granted, aren't you? For myself, I need no more reason to kill you, though I'd meant to let you linger a bit longer."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Do you not remember the years you spent in the Carolinas as a younger man, before your debauched brother lost his life in a duel? When you were the younger son out to seek your fortune?" Hal took a step closer to Richard, forcing Richard back, removing them both from Elspeth. "Do you not remember a certain shopkeeper's daughter? You wouldn't know her Cherokee name, but perhaps you recall her Christian name? Mary Merritt."

  Elspeth watched all the color flow out of Richard's face. "What have you to do with that squaw?"

  "Do you remember what you did to her, March?" Hal moved forward, in spite of the fact he was unarmed. "Do you remember leaving her in a bloody heap on the filthy floor of a storehouse? Tell me, did you believe her dead?"

  Richard's breathing quickened. "I'll kill you."

  "Leave here, March. Live. For as long as I let you."

  With a roar, Richard charged. Hal stood firm, jumping aside and shoving Richard's larger body to the floor. Hal fell on him, straddling him and seizing the hand holding the rapier. Slamming it against the floor, he made Richard drop the weapon. Elspeth took a relieved breath.

  Until Hal picked the sword up. Breathing heavily from his exertion, Hal set the point against Richard's face. With a quick motion, he left a long red gash on Richard's cheek.

  "Move. Please move." Hal's voice held a tone of pleading which would have been poignant had he not been pleading for a reason to do murder. "Give me a reason to end it now."

  "Hal, please don't."

  "Pleading for my life won't make things easier for you, Elspeth." Richard spoke her name like a curse.

  A long, tortuous moment passed before Hal removed the point of the rapier from Richard's face.