The Ladys Pirate

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The Ladys Pirate Page 22

by The lady's pirate (lit)


  "I thought you understood that."

  "I am first mate. Part of my job is to support the Captain's decisions."

  "What's the other part?"

  "To tell the Captain in private when he's wrong."

  "Consider it done."

  "The crew are grumbling at the lack of quid on this trip. Several are talking about shipping out on other vessels."

  "Let them go. I've no hold on them."

  "You trained them to be seamen. You promised them we would earn money to see their people safe."

  "If they have no faith in me, let them go. What do you want from me?"

  "I want you to be the Captain of this ship or step aside."

  "For whom?" For the first time in a long time, Hal really looked at his friend. Did George covet a higher position? "Do you want my job, George?"

  George snorted his answer. "As though anyone could actually take your place. Nope, Rabbit. Not me. There are a couple of loud mouths, though, who might like to try."

  Hal stared at George, waiting for the names. His mate shook his head.

  "No, no. Not yet. They haven't actually urged mutiny. If they stay with us, I'll talk to them, but until they speak openly, I won't let you use them as punching bags."

  "George," Hal said innocently. "I'm shocked you would believe I could misuse a fellow sailor."

  Another snort greeted that statement before George sobered.

  "I'm serious about the Countess, Hal. You need to get her out of your system. For the Spirit's sake, seduce her. It's not like you'll get any resistance. She's fairly swooning with wanting you."

  Hal was on his feet, leaning over George.

  "Do not speak of her to me again, George."

  George, far from being alarmed by Hal's threatening posture, smiled.

  "I thought so. Sit down, Hal, and stop playing the bear with me."

  "I'm not kidding, George. I don't want to talk about her. Not even with you." Hal turned to go.

  "Fine." George grabbed his sleeve. "But be on notice, my brother. I'll toss her overboard myself if she interferes in the operation of this ship."

  Hal thought better of a dozen responses. He settled on saying, "She's getting off here in Spanish Town as soon as her wardrobe is finished. She'll be arranging her own passage back to England."

  "Good. Let's wish Mistress Carberry a swift and sure needle." George pushed by him and left Hal alone in the mess.

  She's fairly swooning.

  Hal chuckled mirthlessly. Certainly she is. What woman of wealth, beauty, position, power, wouldn't swoon over a half-breed who stole for a living?

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Hal knocked at the door to the Countess's cabin. Only duty to check on her wrist had brought him here on the day when she would leave him behind.

  "Come."

  He opened the door and entered. He found, not Countess Greymere, but Ellie, the perfect picture of a pirate's woman. But she was not his woman. Never would be.

  "I came to take a last look at your wrist, my lady."

  "Certainly." She sat at the table.

  Hal put down the small bundle he'd brought with him and unwrapped her bindings to remove the splints.

  "Can you move your hand?" When she did with no apparent pain, Hal gently squeezed along the bones. "They appear to have knitted completely. You are a fast healer."

  "I had a good physician."

  "You'd best keep the splints on for a week longer." He rebound her arm. When he'd finished, he handed her the bundle. "I brought you a present."

  "How kind. I fear I have nothing for you."

  "Your company has been gift enough."

  She cut him a look. "I have gotten the impression my company was not altogether a pleasant experience for you, Captain."

  "I assure you, Countess, your company has been the greatest pleasure of my life. I only wish..."

  "What?" She covered his hand, her eyes imploring. "Tell me, Hal. What do you wish?"

  How could he tell her? Sharing this particular burden wouldn't make his own any lighter.

  "Open your present, Ellie."

  She smiled at his use of that name.

  He studied her smile, so he could remember it. The warmth in her eyes, the small dimple on the right side of her mouth. Her full lips. He could taste them.

  She blushed and bent her head toward her gift.

  "I love presents." She busied herself undoing the silk wrapping. A delighted smile burst out on her face. "My pipe."

  "And a pouch of my special tobacco. I'll send you more."

  "Thank you."

  "I should go." He stood up but was rooted to the spot.

  She stood, too close to him. Because it seemed the thing to do, Hal leaned toward her. Elspeth met him and their mouths melded together.

  He heard the pipe fall to the floor as her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. He couldn't help himself, couldn't stop his arms from enfolding her.

  She devoured him, drawing out his breath, leaving him lightheaded. Never had a woman kissed him this way. Satisfaction flooded through him. He'd been the man to teach her how to kiss like this. He set his hand to the back of her head and held her for a thorough plundering of her mouth. He swept his tongue along her soft lips inside, drawing her tongue to play with this game with him. She responded, sparring and teasing him to the point of insanity.

  "My lady?" It was George. Damn George. "Mrs. Carberry is here with your wardrobe."

  He held her tight when she would have broken away, taking one last taste of her.

  When he released her, she swayed as though she might fall. Her hands found the table and she leaned against it, her breaths coming heavy and labored.

  "Yes, come in."

  Before the door had opened, his Countess had regained herself and stood straight, offering her hand to him.

  "Thank you so much, Captain."

  Her eyes twinkled and Hal found himself grinning at her grit.

  "The pleasure was mine, my lady."

  He was still grinning as he bowed and left her to Mrs. Carberry.

  Outfitted in one of Mrs. Carberry's quickly stitched traveling gowns and properly accompanied by a borrowed lady's maid also provided by that worthy woman, Elspeth emerged onto the main deck.

  Her eyes searched for Hal, while her brain tormented her with ridicule. After kissing her senseless, he'd avoided her. Even now that she was leaving, he'd made himself scarce.

  Crewmen passed her, tipping their heads in greeting and muttering, "Farewell, my lady."

  She knew most of their names by now and returned their good-byes. She would miss these rough men. They'd treated her with respect, though at times, they'd also engaged in some good-natured teasing at her expense. They had accepted her and she'd felt welcome.

  Cole waited her by the gangplank. Elspeth smiled at him and offered her hand as she approached.

  "Good-bye, my lady. It has been my pleasure to serve you."

  The one-eyed sailor took her hand and bent over it as though he were the finest gentleman in London. His lips, in proper fashion, didn't touch, but merely paused a moment in the air above the back of her gloved hand.

  "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Taylor. I hope we meet again."

  "That would be my honor, Lady Greymere."

  Did she see the old man's eye glistening? Would he really miss her that much? She held his hand and stood on her tip-toe to kiss his cheek.

  "Thank you, Cole. Take care of him for me?" she asked in a shaky whisper.

  "Indeed I shall, my lady."

  Elspeth stood away, suddenly too aware of her changed status. She was once again Lady Greymere, and must act that part, leaving behind the hoyden Ellie she'd discovered inside her on this voyage. She was also leaving behind her heart.

  She looked ahead. On the dock, a man of some wealth, if clothes were any indication, descended from a coach. When the door was shut behind him, she could see the seal of the Queen, indicating this man must be the Queen's gover
nor here in Jamaica. The man waited at the end of the gangplank.

  Time to put on her now ill-fitting role. She was no longer sure she could be that woman, and after tasting life with Hal, it was a depressing prospect. But she really had no choice, so, borrowed maid behind her, Elspeth, Lady Greymere, stepped off Spring Moon, and back into proper society.

  Cole helped her down the gangplank then returned to the ship without another word.

  "Lady Greymere?" The gentleman stood before her.

  "Yes."

  "Sir Charles Metcalfe, the Queen's Governor-General here in Jamaica." He made a courtly bow. "My wife is most anxious to meet you, my lady. My secretary will arrange for the transportation of your luggage."

  "Actually, Sir Charles, the Captain has kindly arranged that already. It will be delivered to the Governor's Palace this afternoon."

  "Very good. Shall we?" He offered his arm.

  Resisting the impulse to take one last look at Spring Moon, she accompanied the Governor to his carriage, where his wife waited. She chattered like a monkey all the way to the palace. Elspeth had to force herself to pay attention.

  "My lady, I'm certain you'll find Spanish Town a charming get-away. We have planned some entertainments for you, though I'm certain not what you are accustomed to."

  "I'm sure anything you have planned will be very entertaining, Lady Metcalfe."

  "You are most kind, my lady. Tonight-"

  "Lady Metcalfe, I am very tired from the voyage. I would greatly prefer to retire early this evening. You do understand?"

  "Of course, my lady, of course." The woman pouted. "I do hope you will be able to enjoy some of our amusements before you must return."

  Elspeth smiled and nodded then leaned back against the seat and let her eyes wander for the rest of the trip.

  Still Lady Metcalfe prattled. The society, the servants, the beastly weather.

  Of course, the silly woman was uncomfortable in this weather. She wore last year's fashions, a heavy linen gown, and by the balloon of her skirts, Elspeth imagined she must have on at least four petticoats.

  A smile curved her lips as she imagined what Lady Metcalfe would say if the Countess suggested going native for more comfort.

  "Ah, so you approve, my lady?"

  "What?"

  "Your visage implied you approved my suggestion."

  So engrossed with her own thoughts, Elspeth hadn't paid attention. She made a moue of apology.

  "I'm sorry, Lady Metcalfe, my mind was wandering. What was your suggestion?"

  "We should have a ball in your honor."

  A pain stabbed her between the eyes. "Well, that would be lovely, of course, but..." Elspeth groped for an excuse. "I fear I shall be quite occupied."

  "With what?" asked Lady Metcalfe quite impudently.

  "I intend to spend the bulk of my time visiting my holdings here. As I understand they are quite far from the city, I don't believe I shall be able to accept your generous offer."

  Sir Charles harrumphed. "My lady, I cannot permit you to travel out to the countryside."

  Elspeth glared at the man. "Cannot permit, Sir Charles?" she asked in a quiet voice.

  "What I mean, my lady, is I have a responsibility to see to your safety until your husband joins you."

  Her face set, she continued her icy stare. Sir Charles stammered.

  "Your husband is joining you, of course? You said you were here to see after your property? Certainly your husband takes care of that for you."

  Elspeth was silent as a jolt of fear sliced through her.

  "My husband? Yes."

  She chided herself for her fear at the mention of Richard. After all, Hal knew Richard would come after them. He was probably only days behind.

  And Hal would kill him. She would be free.

  What if Richard killed Hal? The thought sent a chill through her blood. She prayed if one of them had to die, it would not be her pirate.

  * * * *

  Hal hid himself behind the wheelhouse and watched her climb into the carriage that would take her from his life forever.

  "You're really pathetic, Rabbit."

  "You sneak up on a man like that, George, and you're likely to end up with a blade between your ribs."

  George snorted. "You knew I was here. Nobody can sneak up on you."

  Hal didn't bother to set his friend straight. With his whole attention on getting one last look at her, he'd not heard George come up behind him. More likely Hal would be the one to get the knife if he didn't get his head back on straight.

  "What do we do now?" George asked.

  "We wait. March will come."

  "What then, Rabbit? After you've taken your revenge on the enemy of your family, what will you do then?"

  She'd asked him the same question. It had been rattling around in his skull until he thought it might drive him crazy. Even with all the thinking, he didn't know. Right now, what lay beyond taking his revenge seemed unreal.

  He made up an answer.

  "We'll turn this tub into a real merchant ship, my friend, and ply the Seven Seas seeking out fortunes." He turned and grinned at George. "How's that sound?"

  George returned the grin. "Sounds mighty good to me, Captain." He slapped Hal on the shoulder and walked off.

  Hal's eyes returned to the dock. She was gone.

  * * * *

  Twenty sat that evening at dinner. Elspeth felt as though she were the main course. Everyone was there to see her, to be seen with her. The women's conversation was gossip. The men talked of horses and dogs and hunting.

  And everyone wanted to know about the glamorous life of the Countess.

  "Do tell us what is going on in London, Lady Greymere." This came from the wife of a prosperous planter sitting across the table from her. Elspeth thought her name was Sinclair.

  "I don't know if I can. I don't go to London very often."

  "Is it true you are a bosom friend of Her Majesty?"

  "We grew up together, yes. I do count her as a friend."

  "We heard reports of the royal wedding. Were you there?"

  "Yes. It was beautiful."

  "My lady, I understand you are wed to the Viscount of Sandgrove," said Mr. Price, whom Elspeth remembered with no fondness from her Season.

  "Yes." Elspeth heard the brittleness of her voice.

  Price must have missed it. "Capital fellow, Sandgrove. Knows all the best places to find a game of cards. Lucky gal. How is old Dick?"

  She thought of the last time she'd seen old Dick. He'd been unconscious on the floor of a room at the Cock and Bull in Lancaster.

  "He is fine."

  For a while, until Hal kills him.

  And I'll be free.

  When had she become so uncaring that another person, even Richard, was marked for death?

  "What on earth happened to your arm, my lady?" Mrs. Sinclair asked.

  The truth slipped out her mouth before she could call it back. "My husband broke it."

  All conversation died. Every eye froze on her.

  Price cleared his throat. "An accident, surely."

  "Surely." Her voice carried no conviction.

  "Are you all right, my lady?" Lady Metcalfe asked.

  "Yes, Lady Metcalfe." Elspeth smiled. "I fear I am more fatigued than I had believed. I do hope you will finish your dinner and enjoy the evening. Excuse me."

  She rose and walked out of the dining room, though she wanted to run, to hide herself from the pity she'd seen in the eyes of the women, the accusation in the eyes of the men. She permitted herself to take the stairs faster than a lady should and slammed the door behind her when she'd reached the sanctuary of her rooms.

  She could barely breathe.

  "Jeannette!" she called to her borrowed maid.

  "Yes, my lady. Back so early?"

  "Help me out of this damned corset."

  Jeannette's eyes widened in shock, but she quickly recovered her composure.

  "Yes, milady."

  Jeannett
e's quick fingers unbuttoned the proper gown and then unlaced the corset which Elspeth found unbearable after weeks without one.

  "Your dressing gown, milady?"

  "No."

  An impulse made her go to the wardrobe. Digging through the clothing, she found what she sought. Pulling out her emerald green bodice and blue skirt, she tossed them on the bed.

  "Milady, this is peasant clothing."

  She pulled the bodice over her head. As she pulled on the skirt, she said, "If this shocks you, Jeannette, you'd better sit down."

  She took her pipe from its silk wrapping and packed it with the cherry-aged tobacco, then lit it with a candle.

  "My lady!"

  Putting a finger to her lips, Elspeth shushed her.

  "I hope you are as discrete as Mrs. Carberry said. I don't want my business discussed on the back stairs."

  "Yes, milady." Chastised, the girl went about her duties, putting away the Countess's clothing.

  Elspeth dragged a chair to the window and sat there, puffing on her pipe. The smoke drifted around her head, the sharp scent reminding her of Hal. Her body ached for his touch, her lips yearned for his kiss.

  But Hal was not here.

  "Will you require anything more tonight, milady?"

  Only him.

  "No, thank you, Jeannette."

  Jeannette curtsied and turned to go.

  "Jeannette."

  "Yes, milady?"

  Elspeth thought for a long moment before she decided to continue. Could she see him once more?

  "Jeannette, I need you to run an errand for me. Do you know the city well?"

  "Oh, yes, milady. I was born here."

  "Good. I have a message for the Captain of the ship which brought me here."

  "Captain Merritt?"

  "Yes."

  Elspeth sat at the desk and pulled out a paper and pen. Composing the words quickly, she dipped the pen in the inkwell and began to write before she lost her nerve.

  Captain, I wondered if you might be kind enough to give me the tour you mentioned when we first set sail from England? My schedule is quite free and I await your convenience. Elspeth, Countess Greymere.

  She dusted the paper and blew it clean, then folded it. Turning to Jeannette, she asked, "Can you read?"

 

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