The Ladys Pirate

by The lady's pirate (lit)

  "The lady pleads for you. And so, I relent, but only for her sake."

  Richard opened his mouth.

  "Don't speak, March. Otherwise, I won't be able to honor the lady's request." Hal tossed the blade to the opposite side of the room. "The next time we meet, I'll finish the job. But for now, I must ensure your silence for a while."

  With blinding speed, Hal drew back his arm and struck Richard on the chin. Richard's head lolled to the side and his eyes rolled upward and closed.

  Hal shook Richard's head, slapped his cheeks-too intensely, Elspeth thought-and, satisfied he was unconscious, rose.

  "Come, my lady, let's go."

  Elspeth recovered her senses. "Go where?"

  "To my ship."

  "I am not going on your ship."

  "Indeed you are. Come along." Hal went to the window, pulled back the curtain, and raised the sash. Peering out, he looked back and forth. "You're not safe here."

  "And I'll be safe on a pirate ship?"

  Hal straightened and fixed her with a stare, his eyes burning. "Your life will be safer."

  The innuendo scored her imagination and for a moment all she could see was the magnificent savage before her. She tried in vain to moisten her dry lips. His eyes followed the motion of her tongue.

  "Oh, my Lord," she moaned. Rallying her virtue, she stood firm. "No, I cannot. I must stay and face-"

  Two steps and he stood before her, his gaze locking and holding hers fast.

  "My lady, we don't have time for this discussion. You will come with me."

  He gave her no time to argue further. Bending down, he rammed his shoulder into her belly and she fell over him. He stood and headed for the door.

  "Put me down this instant." She raised up and pushed on his broad shoulders.

  "You might want to bend over, Countess."

  "What?"

  "Duck."

  "You brute. Put me do-"

  A blunt pain exploded in her skull as her head hit the door frame. Her eyes closed from the shock and she felt herself falling, falling.

  * * * *

  Unconscious Countess on his shoulder, Hal stepped out into the hallway. Now, if he remembered correctly, there was a back stair to the kitchen where he could slip out unseen.

  A click ran through the quiet hallway like a gunshot. Hal turned toward the sound. An eye peeked through the crack at him, widening in shock as it took in the unconscious woman hanging down his back.

  The door flew open, banging against the wall.

  "Oh, damn," he muttered as he recognized the Countess' maid. "Look, girl, I'm not going to hurt her."

  Fingers clawed, the maid threw herself at him. "Put my lady down, you brute."

  Brute? That's what Elspeth had called him.

  "Now, look here."

  He waved his free hand as protection from her attack. The maid's foot connected with his stones. Hal sunk to his knees, an incoherent cry forming on his lips. The Countess rolled from his shoulder and landed in a lump on the floor. The maid was by her side in an instant.

  "Oh, my poor, poor lady," she crooned. "You've killed her!" A keening wail left her throat to set up an alarm destined to bring the sheriff and any other interested spectators.

  Hal forced his hands away from his aching crotch. Grabbing the woman by her shoulders, he shook her.

  "Shut up. I'm taking her away to save her."

  Her keen grew to a higher pitch.

  Footsteps echoed up the stairs at the far end of the hall.

  "Sorry, lass, but this is for everybody's good." He drew his fist back and whacked her on the jaw.

  For a moment, he feared his tactic had only served to break his vow to never strike a woman, for her scream rang on. And on. The footsteps topped the stairs.

  "There. What are you doing?"

  Her service done, the maid's eyes rolled upward and she slumped against Hal.

  A man-a rather large man-led a group of three toward him. "What are you doing to them ladies?"

  Did they recognize the Countess? Hal had to try a ruse. He was in no condition to fight four men, and not even one of the man leading them.

  "Me doxy had a bit too much to drink." He put on his best imitation of a Lancaster accent. Patting Elspeth on her well-formed bottom for good measure, he only briefly wondered what her reaction would be if she knew about his liberty. "This one 'ere," he indicated the maid, "is 'er madam. Wants me to pay extra."

  The man looked from one woman to the other. He pointed at Elspeth. "She looks like a lady."

  "Aye, she does, which is why I paid so much for her." He shook his head and chuckled. "I do wish I had thought not to give her as much champagne as she wanted." He shrugged. "But a gent'lman wants to please 'is doxy, don't 'e?"

  Elspeth's appearance, high-tone and ladylike, was nonetheless disreputable, dressed as she was only in her dressing gown. Hal knew that was what finally made the big man relax.

  "What about the madam?"

  "What? Oh, yes. I'll put 'er back in 'er room."

  Hal stood, then picked the maid up and carried her into the room she'd flown out of in her attack. He laid her on the bed and pulled a coverlet over her.

  "Sleep well, dear woman. I'll return your Countess safely. You have my word."

  Now to get past the men in the hall. Hopefully his story would hold long enough to get Elspeth to his ship and out to sea. Once she had wind, Spring Moon would outrun anything they sent after her.

  "What's the trouble up 'ere?"

  A new voice joined the chorus. Hal stepped into the hall just as the voice asked, "What is Countess Greymere doing sleeping out here in the hallway?"

  Hal rolled his eyes at the complications in his life. Nothing to do now but play the hand he'd drawn. He jumped into the hallway, legs apart, drawing his knife from his pocket.

  "You should have left me to my business, mateys." He stood straddling Elspeth's body, pointing the knife toward her. "One step and the Countess dies." Saying the words made him feel sick. "Stand back and let me go. I won't hurt her, as long as her ransom is paid."

  The men stepped forward as one body. Hal knelt and held the knife against Elspeth's neck.

  "Who are you?"

  "The name is-" He almost gave himself away. "Miguel Garcia. Make sure the lady's husband and stepfather know it was I who took her. Tell the lady's husband to come find us and do not alert the authorities or the lady dies. I will give him my demands when he arrives in Spanish Town, Jamaica."

  The knife steady in his hand, though his body felt anything but steady, Hal clumsily stood Elspeth against the wall, preparing to drop her over his shoulder.

  "Don't try to be heroes, lads. The lady will die and so will you."

  "What'll we do, Will?" the large man asked the new arrival, whom Hal now recognized as the innkeeper.

  The innkeeper, Will, scratched his head as Hal backed down the hallway.

  "Don't know. Don't seem like something we ought to get in the middle of. Reckon we'll get the sheriff and let 'im do 'is job."

  "'Ell with that. This 'ere bloke is a Yank and 'e's taking a English Countess. We can't let 'im do that."

  The large lad balled his fists.

  Hal sighed.

  "All right, lad, let's do this."

  Hal settled the Countess on the floor and measured the human mountain before him. He prayed to the Great Spirit the man was as clumsy as he appeared. He planted his feet and raised his fists.

  "Come on, then. I don't have all night."

  The big man laughed. "Look, the little bloke wants to fight me."

  The other men joined in. "I'll put five quid on Clyde against the little bloke."

  "No way I'm takin' that," said one of their companions.

  "The little bloke ain't got a chance," added another.

  Hal had never thought of himself as a little bloke. Of course, he knew he wasn't as tall as these strapping men, but he believed he made up for it in other ways. Like brains. His brains were telling him thi
s was taking way too long. The sheriff could already be on his way.

  He looked up and down the hall for an escape route, discounting any which made it impossible to take Elspeth with him. Then he saw it. The men were standing at the top of the stairs. One push...

  "I'd love to stay and show you lads what this little bloke can do, but I really must be going. Good night."

  He lowered his head and plowed forward, gaining as much speed as he could in the short distance. His head met Clyde's rock-hard mid-section. Hal's stocky body served as an effective missile, sending the man backward into the others, and the lot of them-starting with Will the innkeeper-rolling down the stairs in a tangled mass of unwashed humanity.

  Hal leaned against the wall to regain his balance and then turned, running back to the Countess. He picked her up on his shoulder and dashed down the back stairs, through the kitchen, past the astonished kitchen staff, and out the back door.

  Taking a moment to orient himself in the darkness, he sniffed the air. Just a tang of the sea touched his nose, almost masked by the barnyard stink of the inn's stables and chicken yard. He made sure his precious burden was settled properly over his shoulder and then began to lope toward the sea.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hal crept in the shadows of the dockside warehouses, breathing deeply only when he spied Spring Moon's mast bobbing over her berth. A final dash brought him alongside. A running jump put him on the rail and he dropped down to the deck. The watch challenged him.

  "Who goes there?"

  "It's me, Cole," Hal answered, not using the proper signal.

  The old man came into the light. He leaned over and grimaced at the Countess' unconscious form. "Redhead." He shook his head. "Better to toss her overboard now, Cap'n. Redheads be bad luck."

  "Not now, Cole. Where's George?"

  "She ain't a virgin, is she?"

  "What?" Even after such a long association with the old sailor, Hal felt shock at the question. "What business is that of yours, old man?"

  "Redheaded virgins be special bad luck on a ship."

  Hal shook his head. "Don't worry about the lady, Cole. Now, where's George?"

  A creak announced the arrival of Hal's first mate.

  "Here I am, Hal."

  George came up the steps from below-decks. As Cole wandered off shaking his head at his Captain's ignorance of good common sense, George walked over to Hal and raised Elspeth's head, staring into her face.

  "What have you done now?"

  "I had to. Is everyone aboard?"

  George replied, "Yes, but-"

  "Shove off," Hal ordered and started for the steps to deliver Elspeth to her guestroom.

  "Hal, we can't."

  "What?" Hal turned, slamming Elspeth's head against the bulkhead. He winced at her moan. To George he said, "What do you mean we can't leave? The sheriff will be here any minute."

  "Your employer is in your cabin. The man in black," George added in a whisper.

  "Damn! Get rid of him. We've got to sail now."

  "He brought a couple of men with him."

  If this night ever ended and he was still alive, Hal promised he would never, ever, come to England again. He blew out a breath.

  "All right, come with me." He led George below decks to the cabin adjoining the Captain's. "This will do for now." Hal lay Elspeth on the bunk and turned to George.

  "Somebody needs to be here to keep her quiet in case she wakes up."

  George nodded. "I'll get Isaac to sit in here. Any other orders?"

  "Yes, but get Isaac first. I don't want her left alone."

  Hal's cabin boy arrived in short order. Hal leaned over the child and sniffed.

  "I told you to stay out of the taverns, Isaac."

  The boy stared at the floor. Hal chucked him under the chin, tipping his face up.

  "Are you suitably sober to handle a simple task?"

  The boy nodded.

  "I want you to stay with this lady and keep her quiet if she wakes up. She might be hurt if she raises an alarm. The man in my cabin next door must not know she is here. Do you understand?"

  Again the silent nod.

  "She is our guest, Isaac. Treat her with respect."

  Isaac nodded again.

  "Good." Hal wondered if Isaac was the best keeper but he had no one else who could be spared during casting off and leaving port. "Prepare to cast off, George, while I give the assassin an audience." Pulling open the door adjoining his cabin, he turned and whispered, "Lock the door behind us, Isaac."

  Hal swaggered into his own cabin, pausing only a moment at the strong scent of lilac in the air. The same scent Geoffrey deHaven favored. DeHaven had plenty of time to gather his thugs and get to the ship before Hal. He bowed to the man in black who sat at the table, swirling a crystal glass of ruby red wine in his hand.

  "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise, sir?" To cover his nervousness, he poured himself a port. At least George hadn't brought out the really good stuff this time.

  The assassin's two thugs stood behind him.

  "Bertie and Jones. How nice to see you survived your swimming lesson. Port?" he offered.

  "No, they will not," the man in black responded for them. Hal noticed Jones sported a newly blackened eye while Bertie kept sniffing and drawing his sleeve across his nose.

  "As I plan to depart with the tide, let's get on with whatever you came here for." Hal took a seat at the table.

  "I came to discuss your finishing what I paid you for."

  Hal sipped the rich port. "You have only paid me a tenth."

  The man pulled a bag from his jacket. "Here. Payment in full. The Countess is at the Cock and Bull. I have taken care of the guards she brought with her. You will not be interfered with."

  "How did you manage that?" Hal asked.

  "I have ways and means. You need know no more than that."

  The man drained his wine and dabbed his mouth with a lacy handkerchief. The motion touched a memory in Hal's brain, but he couldn't retrieve it. Even though he didn't know the name, he knew he had met the man in black before. And he felt more than ever the Countess was in desperate danger.

  * * * *

  At first, Elspeth heard only a rhythmic banging in her ears and the drumbeat of a hammer against the back of her head. She tried to sit up, but found herself immobile. Had she been restrained?

  "Patsy!" The single cry for help, pitiful as it was, cost her in increased pain. She barely bit off her cry.

  A thin finger touched her lips. Elspeth startled at the touch, recoiling from unknown flesh against her own. Where was Patsy?

  Elspeth forced her eyes to open.

  A young boy, pretty brown face framed by shoulder-length curls, stared back at her, his ebony eyes enormous.

  "Where am I?" Elspeth asked, her whisper as much not to frighten the child as to spare her own aching head.

  The answer was the touch of the thin finger again, signaling Elspeth to remain silent.

  Elspeth sat up, located the door, then sought a way to distract her keeper.

  "Water, please?"

  The boy nodded, again signaling her to be quiet, and turned to a table where a pitcher and glass sat. He poured a half-glass of water and brought it to her lips, gently helping her drink. She took the glass and smiled at him.

  "Thank you," she said, drawing a shy smile from the boy.

  Almost feeling guilty, she waited until the he drew back a bit, giving her room. She threw the water into the boy's face, jumped off the bed, dashed for the door and yanked on it. Locked.

  The boy was on her in an instant, pulling her away from the door. Elspeth pushed him back, swallowing a cry of pain when her broken hand met the boy's body. He slammed against the wall and slid down. Elspeth took the momentary freedom to seek another route of escape. She reached the door, lifted the latch and started to pull it open as she heard the voices of men rumbling on the other side. Were they danger or rescue? Did she have a choice to wait and find out?


  Elspeth glanced back just as she pulled the door open, only to see the form of the boy flying across the room at her, mouth open in a silent scream. The boy hit, not her, but the door, slamming it shut. He fell on Elspeth, smashing her to the floor of the small room. As she lay motionless beneath her attacker, Elspeth sensed a gentle sway of the floor. Only then did she take in her surroundings.

  She was on a ship. She thought back in panic. How did she get on a ship? The last thing she remembered was Geoffrey questioning Hal Merritt about his life as a pirate. After that, she only encountered emptiness.

  The boy's skinny fingers gripped her chin, turning her to meet his glowing black eyes. Again the thin finger touched Elspeth's lips, then his own. Then, in a blood-chilling motion, the same thin finger ran across her throat.

  Elspeth felt her eyes go wide. "Please," she begged, "let me go."

  The boy's reply was to shake his head.

  "You can understand me?" Elspeth whispered her question.

  The boy nodded.

  "But you cannot speak?"

  Darkness crept across his eyes, followed by what she could only interpret as remembered pain. Then the boy cupped his own ear and pointed to the door.

  Listen. Elspeth nodded and they fell silent.

  "Don't pay any mind, sir," she heard Hal saying, "'Tis only a passenger."

  She decided she must be the passenger, but why would she be on his ship? She searched her pounding head for an answer, but there was nothing to tell her how she came to be aboard. Had she come voluntarily or had he truly abducted her this time?

  The door opened a crack and Hal's handsome face peered around it.

  "Is everything all right in here?" he asked the boy.

  The child nodded and pointed to Elspeth lying beneath him.

  Hal, the blackguard, the beast, the brute, chuckled.

  "Ah, yes, don't worry, girl," he said to Elspeth. "You'll know your place soon."

  So, he'd lied to her all along. She tried to shoot her disgust at him through her eyes. Then she thought, there's a gentleman in the next cabin. If I can just attract his attention, perhaps he can help me.

  She opened her mouth to shout out her identity. "Help!" was all she got out before a brown hand slapped across her mouth.

  Hal smiled and turned back to the other cabin. "Seems our passenger has had a change of heart. Back in the tavern, she itched to sail the world. Now she's crying for her mama."