She whipped it open, only to come face-to-face with the ship’s Irish Cook. He stared at her, and remained silent, yet he had crooked one eyebrow at her strange appearance.
He balanced a tray heaped with delicious smelling food. Obviously, this Irish Cook knew his craft. Beckoning him inside, she stepped aside, to let him pass. He walked over to the table, and placed the tray down upon it.
Turning back to her, he grinned, and glanced toward the tousled bed knowingly. If he said just one word, she’d scream like a bloody banshee.
“Would you like me to tidy the covers for you?” he asked softly, his accent thick because of his excitement.
“I shall manage quite well on my own, thank you.” She studied him as his eyes swept the full length of the cabin.
“As you wish, miss.” He straightened up to his full height, glanced back down at the tray and cleared his throat. “Would you like me to serve you?”
It took her a moment to grasp his meaning, since her mind was presently elsewhere. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get that rake and scoundrel of a pirate out of her head. “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass on that one as well.” Her lips twitched, as she attempted to keep them from forming into a smile.
“Ah, well. I’ve prepared you some hot chocolate, but there is also some strong tea in the teapot, and some limes or lemons, depending on what you like with your tea. Americans aren’t big on milk with tea, are they? And besides, lemons with your tea on a sea voyage is a good idea. Hmm…perhaps I should have made you some coffee.” He gestured to each item, and then glanced back at her.
“It looks and smells delicious. Thank you. You needn’t bother with the coffee. My father is the one that likes that. I do not care for it. I shall eat it happily,” she said. Her stomach enforced her words when it growled with hunger. Embarrassed, she pressed the flat palm of her hand on her stomach.
“I’ll be taking my leave then, Miss Elizabeth,” he murmured, edging toward the door. “One more thing, miss, though I may be speaking out of turn.” His ruddy cheeks reddened even more, as he locked eyes on her.
“Yes,” she said, turning around.
“Take care of my lad. He might be an Englishman, but he’s the best man I’ve ever met. He has a heart of gold, that one.”
“Yes, he certainly does have a heart that hankers for gold.”
“Ah, miss, if you only knew the hell he’s been put through. I’m sure that you’d sympathize.”
“You don’t even know me from boo yet, Seamus,” she murmured, taking a step backward.
“Aye, but despite all of your blustering, you have kind eyes.” He turned to leave, and then twirled around on his heel once more. “If you’re trying to look like a man in that get-up, I’d suggest you tuck your hair up into a cap, and squish your charms down a wee bit. Boys don’t exactly have to worry about that part of the anatomy.” He smiled, and then left the cabin. As soon as he stepped outside, she heard his amused chuckling.
She sighed, and frowned. If she’d only entertained Seamus, then it would be doubtful that she’d have a different reaction from Rafe. Groaning, she sat down, and reached for one of the lids that covered the hot food. She reached for her cup of hot chocolate, and drank it eagerly.
Its smooth, rich texture coursed down her throat, and filled her with a sense of contentment. She then tucked eagerly into the food, and found to her enjoyment that not only could Seamus make a fine cup of chocolate, but that he could also cook food that would rival her father’s French chefs.
She had just cleaned her plate, when she heard the frenzied shouts of men up on deck. Pushing back her chair, she stood up and walked back over to her chest of clothing. She searched inside, and found a cap suitable for covering her long plaited hair. She coiled the raven plait into a makeshift bun, and then tucked her cap around it.
She reached inside for the second hand greatcoat that she had bought while in London. Its bulkiness would not only protect her from the elements, but it would also conceal her ample charms. She still wore her traveling boots having nothing else to consider except her riding, or walking boots, and at the moment, she didn’t know where those were, because Sarah had packed her belongings.
Most men on ships went around in bare feet expect for the officers, but she didn’t think that anyone would pay much heed to her, for she was not about to set off barefooted.
Breathing deeply, she walked toward her bedside table, and tucked her mother’s miniature portrait into her pocket. Tapping it to reassure herself, she walked to the cabin door.
Then, as if another mood had struck her fancy, she dashed back to the bedside table, and reluctantly placed the portrait back on it. She hurried back to the cabin door, opened it, only to discover that all hell had somehow broken loose.
*****
“Damn that Spanish Bastard straight to the fires of hell!” Mallory spit out, taking his hands off of the wheel, and striding back toward the rail.
“I think he wants your head, this time my friend,” Ethan commented, grinning at him, as the ship prepared for battle.
“Well, as it is, I’m rather fond of my head.” Mallory touched his neck and grimaced.
“Aye, the noble St. Martins haven’t lost any heads since, oh, when was it, the Seventeenth Century?”
“Sixteenth, and don’t be cheeky. One of my ancestors raised the ire of Queen Mary of England. Of course, it didn’t take much to anger her. There was a reason why she was called Bloody Mary.” Mallory grinned, while trying desperately to concoct a plan of outmaneuvering the brutal Spaniard that was hot on their trail.
“Well, now you can’t be breaking that winning streak,” Ethan advised.
Men scurried to the battle positions, as The Valiant readied their gun cannons.
“I should be back on The Red Dawn, I don’t know what possessed me to take charge of this ship. It’s a fine sailing ship, I grant you, and it is heavily armed, but I don’t know if it’s as maneuverable as The Red Dawn.”
“Don’t you worry, Rafe. The Valiant will serve us well. Besides, you’ll have to be worried about a boarding party, because I warrant that Captain Antonio will be wanting to swing across as soon as he’s able.”
“We’ll just have to be sure that he isn’t able to bring his bloody ship that close to us.” Mallory grit his teeth, and felt the familiar sensations that always came over him when in the heat of battle.
His mind usually cleared, and focused on one thing, victory. And he would be victorious. For once and for all, he was bound and determined to rid himself of that Spanish bastard.
He turned his head at the sound of a scuffle. His eyes widened dramatically. He wanted to pinch himself, because he was almost sure that what he saw standing before him could not be real.
All blood drained from his cheeks. Numbing shock overtook him. But his disbelief only lasted for a few seconds, and when it drained away, it was replaced by anger, the likes of which he had never before experienced. She looked ridiculous in the garb she wore.
Her breasts were tightly pressed into the shirt and if she bent over too far she’d spill right out. The greatcoat she wore did little to conceal her charms as it kept blowing open in the harsh sea wind. With a ship full of men, he didn’t like that at all. Possessiveness swelled through him. The breeches she had on clung to every single curve on her shapely legs.
His mouth went dry. She’d plaited her thick curly black hair, coiled it into a makeshift bun, and had tried to stuff it under a cap that now sat askew on her head. As a result, a few strands had escaped, and curled around her heart-shaped face. He shook off the trance he’d been momentarily thrown into, as his initial anger returned. If she thought she fooled anyone in her getup, she couldn’t be farther from the truth. Elizabeth could hardly hide the fact that she was all woman.
Mallory crossed the short distance that lay between Elizabeth and himself, grasping her shoulders tightly. He wanted to shake her, but he would not! He loved her, and he had to keep reminding himself of that fact, no matte
r how many times she tried his patience. If he married her, he’d have to acquire the patience of a saint.
“Christ’s teeth woman, what are you doing?” his voice was filled with annoyance, and he saw her wince beneath it.
“I thought that I would come up here and see what was going on.” Her voice was calm, and totally contradicted the rolling emotions that were pent up inside of him. When he stared into her beautiful eyes, he saw nothing but anxiety. Not fear, or trepidation, only concern. He wanted to shake his head.
“Woman, you confound me.” She stared up at him, and actually had the tenacity and gall to smile sweetly, at his barked exclamation.
“I thank you,” she murmured.
At the sound of her sultry voice, he was quite undone. She was winding him around her pinky finger, and worst of all, she knew that she was affecting him to the point of distraction. But he would not fall for her feminine wiles, he was too strong for that, and well at the moment, he didn’t have the luxury.
“Do you not realize that we are preparing for a violent sea battle?”
“I suspected that you were.” She nodded her head thoughtfully, and God help him whether she realized it or not, she was batting her rich, and thick eyelashes at him. Here he was on the edge of a bloody battle, and all that he wanted to do was immerse himself in the sweet and tantalizing woman that stood before him.
“A sea battle is no place for a woman, in fact, if I were a superstitious man, I never would have brought you onboard this ship, as some think a woman is bad luck to be on a ship.” At his gruff words, a hard glint entered her brown eyes. She narrowed them slightly, and huffed out a large impatient gust of air that ruffled his hair.
*****
“Well, you could hardly avoid that, could you? Why pray tell, am I here, sir?
He sighed heavily. “Because I kidnapped you.”
“Exactly. And why am I here on this bridge of all places?”
He took a moment to reflect upon her words. “I am not in the mood to play games with you, Elizabeth, no matter how tempting they might be. Now be a good girl, and run down and lock yourself in your cabin.” He was unprepared for what came next.
In one blurring movement, she freed one of her arms and brought it back. She slapped him, open-handed across his cheek. Stunned, he stared at her, employing the last of his self-control to keep from flying off the deep end with her.
“Good girl?” she ranted, as he reaffirmed his grasp on her. “I shall have you know that I am one and twenty, and haven’t been called a good girl, for as long as I can remember.”
He knew she was being a bit liberal with her age. He knew she hadn’t yet reached her twenty first year.
“Well, perhaps it would be time for you to start being a good girl.”
“In that case, I cannot be your wife, sir.” She had him there.
“You will be safer if you return to your cabin, miss.” He was trying to stay calm. Even though she slapped him, and she was pushing him farther than anyone else ever dared.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here. I like to know what I am dealing with.” he turned her around, so that she could see Antonio’s ship in the distance.
“See that ship,” he said, pointing to the large vessel that was quickly approaching them. “It is called The Destroyer. And the man that commands it is known as Captain Blood. His Christian name is Antonio Tirado. He is known as the terror of the High Seas. If he boards this ship, you will not want to be around. He will show you no quarter, miss.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to be down below, either. If he does board this ship, and he gets past you and your men, I won’t be any better off down there than I will be up here, will I?”
“He devours women.”
This time she shivered slightly, though the implacable expression she wore, still hadn’t changed.
“I am not afraid. I am with you. And you, sir, are enough of a blackguard and scoundrel to stand against anything the Spanish beggar might serve to us.” He admired the steel that ran through her, but he still felt uneasy about leaving her, so that she would be vulnerable.
“I pray you won’t be, once the battle begins.” He finally released her, and then turned away from her. It was at that point that he finally realized he hadn’t finished addressing the ridiculous getup she wore.
“What are you wearing?”
“As you see, sir, I am wearing trousers.”
“You look bloody ridiculous. A woman wearing trousers is a travesty.”
“But now I blend in.” He couldn’t stop himself. He burst out laughing, and felt euphoria race through him. The woman never ceased to amaze him.
“If you believe that love-starved sea men won’t be able to tell that you are a woman badly disguised, then you are sadly mistaken. Miss Elizabeth, a man would spot you a mile away as a woman. In fact, Antonio being the hot-blooded Latin man that he is has probably already spotted you. They are rather like bloodhounds when it comes to sniffing out the fairer sex.”
She slanted her mouth into a look of disgust. “You sir, are a…”
“Don’t say it, Elizabeth,” he warned, his laughter died away as sobriety took hold of him. “As I’ve already told you, I don’t have the time. Seamus,” he barked out, as the Irishman looked over at him, having just emerged from the galley. “Take Miss Elizabeth back down to her cabin, and make sure she remains there.”
He could see that he was raising her ire, but at this point, he didn’t give one cockeyed hoot.
“The little miss will be well taken care of, sir,” Seamus said, reaching out to wrap his hand around Elizabeth’s.
“Take your hand off me!” She stared at him, in that beseeching way of hers, and damn it all, his heart felt sick. She shouldn’t be able to do this to him. He was a battle-hardened man, with principles, and women just didn’t have any place in the middle of a fight.
“Aye, I know she will.” He watched as Elizabeth turned her back on him, to walk proudly back down to the cabins.
“You know,” Ethan began. Mallory turned back to him. “I’d wager you have a better chance against Antonio than you do against, Miss Elizabeth.
Mallory groaned, and turned on Ethan. “Ethan, would you do me a favour?”
“Yes?”
“Please keep your thoughts to yourself!”
Chapter Seven
Elizabeth could not believe the indignity of her situation. She watched as Seamus dragged a chair over in front of her cabin door, and sat down upon it. Scowling, she folded her hands in her lap, and steadied her gaze at him.
“I shall not be told what to do!”
“As far as I’m concerned, what the Captain says is law. We may vote on some things on this ship, but taking care of you isn’t one of them. The crew knows where they stand when it comes to you. You’re a fine, respectable lady, and therefore, we are to keep our eyes and fingers off you.”
“But you are looking at me right now,” she pointed out, smiling serenely.
“The Captain trusts me. He knows I’m not going to pull a Roger on you. I’m a good morally honest man, and as you’re young enough to be my daughter…or even my granddaughter,” he shuddered at those words, “I shan’t touch you, and I’ll slit anyone’s throat who tries.”
“You, sir, are a pirate.”
“Aye. But I am an honourable, morally sound pirate,” he countered.
She bit her lower lip, and couldn’t help but smile. She was grateful to Rafe, for his concern about her welfare, but sometimes the man could drive her right up the wall.
“What if he needs help up there?” She felt useless, utterly and completely useless.
“You obviously don’t know the Captain too well. He won’t be the one needing help. But those bloody Spaniards sure as hell will. He’s going to give them a licking they won’t soon forget.” Seamus adamantly nodded his head, while he leaned back on the hind legs of the chair.
She couldn’t sit down. She was restless. She’d never like
d the possibility of the unknown. How was she to know how capable Rafe was? She’d never seen a display of his prowess. Albeit it with her, and well, honestly she hadn’t given him a decent fight. And besides, there was something about Rafe that made her want to take care of him. Even though she should want to do him severe bodily harm, she didn’t. It had to have been his hypnotic eyes that were drawing her in, and capturing her beneath their spell.
“Miss Elizabeth, if you don’t cease your constant pacing, you’re bound to give me a roaring headache.”
She turned her head at the sound of cannon fire. After the cannon fire had dispersed, it was followed by an eerie silence, which caused goose bumps to emerge across her skin. She rubbed her arms, and dragged in a trembling breath.
“How notorious is this Captain Blood?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
“He’s a man without mercy, he is.”
“Oh, is that all?” she asked, laughing nervously. Now more than ever, she was worried that just maybe Rafe was going to have his work cut out for him. He’d said that he’d been at the Battle of Trafalgar, but she didn’t know how well he had fought there. Had he been a hero?
Damn, she should have asked him more questions. She stared back at Seamus, and dropped her eyes, to the weapons the man carried.
“Do you think I could borrow your pistol?” she asked hopefully, realizing that the man would be more apt to hand over his pistol then the cutlass that hung on his other side. Where had Rafe stashed the pistol Raleigh had given her? That would at least give her some kind of comfort.
“I’ll be the one taking care of you, little miss,” he whispered, a cheery glint entering his green eyes.
“This is not to be borne,” she whispered. She needed to be the one in control of her destiny, not some sea thief, who thought he’d stolen her to be his bloody wife. Filled with anger, she stormed toward Seamus, just as their ship rocked again.
“Move, Seamus.” It was not a request, but a demand. If, as Seamus said, no crewman was to put his fingers on her, then what kept her inside of this damn cabin? If Seamus did put his fingers on her, he’d be breaking his Captain’s direct order.
His to Hold (Regency Scoundrels Book 1) Page 7
