Panic consuming him, Richard ran to the dock and stood beside his men. “Cease fire! Do not attack! They have my daughter!” Waving his hands wildly, Bingham shouted into the wind, hoping he would be heard.
“Katherine! Katherine!” Her eyes locked on his from the main deck and when Thomas Esmonde caught the interaction, hatred flamed in his eyes just before he swung her over his shoulder and brought her up to the poop deck, into the captain’s cabin, and slammed the door behind him.
WHEN KATHERINE AWOKE that morning, she was in a bed inside the very pirate inn she had spied upon for so many months… next to that brute Thomas. She flailed her arms and screamed, trying to claw at his face. He still bore the marks from her last attack and she would do it again.
“Calm down,” he growled, flipping his heavy body on top of hers to prevent her thrashings. All it took was the strength of just one of his large, calloused warrior hands to pull both her wrists above her head, pinning her in place. His giant thighs straddled hers and squeezed, making sure she could not move and his other hand covered her mouth. “I will not hurt ye. Ye swooned in Grace O’Malley’s castle! I brought ye here before she could kill ye… ye wee damned fool!”
Katherine’s eyes widened and she remembered every awful moment of the night before. Her blue dress was twisted about her body, riding up to mid-thigh from her struggles.
Removing his hand from her mouth, he narrowed his eyes. “Ye need to tell me who ye are, lass. I cannot let you go until ye do.” She knew for certain, especially after all Grace had said last night, that they would kill her if they knew Richard Bingham was her father. Though, they were wrong about him. He helped the Irish people. It was not his fault if he had to stop the pirates from thieving the waters. He used their cargo to help the people, but she could not tell them that.
She pursed her lips and shook her head, refusing to respond and he continued. “Ye lied to me last night. Have ye any idea how disgusted I was with myself?” Aye, she knew. He had spit more times than any man she had ever seen, said more than a few nasty words, and even vomited twice. She felt awful for having put him through that, but she had not meant to.
“I did not mean to. I did not know your parents had the same name as my own. How could I have?”
“So, then Richard and Margaret are your true parent’s names?” he asked, seeming slightly content with some answers.
She tried to nod but it was hard when he had her so thoroughly pinned. “Aye. My mama died when I was wee. I do not remember her. It has just been me and my papa, and he is always gone…”
“So ye wander the land, looking for trouble and reading… this drivel.” When he nodded toward the book on the table beside the bed, her eyes widened, and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Drat! He would think her a most wanton woman! Her face flamed with embarrassment.
He smirked at her. “Aye, I looked at it. It is most… educational. Although I have done most of those positions at least once before, I did learn some rather interesting new techniques I am most anxious to try.” The devilish smirk on his face made her gasp and struggle beneath him. Double drat! And curse her imagination for thinking of him doing those things to her. “Have ye tried any lass?”
“What? Nay! I found that book! It was intriguing and that is all!”
“Och, that it is. I also found this.” Reaching around his back, he pulled the spyglass out from behind his breeches and her stomach fell. “Ye spy on people and look at obscene literature. What other secrets do ye hold, lass? ’Tis a good thing ye are not my sister, for I would bend ye over my knee. Although, I am quite tempted to do that to ye anyhow.” He waggled his brows salaciously and she felt panic take root. Would he force himself on her?
“Please! I am an innocent!” He was so handsome and yet so frightening. Their kiss had been the single most magical moment of her life, followed by the most terrifying when he dragged her to Grace’s castle. She was certain she was going to die before she passed out and awoke here, with this man who intimidated her to no end.
Releasing her quickly from his hold, he bounded off the bed and stretched as if nothing had happened. “I know ye are. Ye stink of stupid innocence.” He tossed her cloak to her and she caught it quickly as she sat up.
“I cannae let ye go since ye willnae tell me who ye are and I cannae trust ye. Ye are stuck with me until I learn the truth.” He waggled his brows again and she stuck her tongue out at him.
Like a toad catching a fly, he reached out swiftly and grabbed her tongue, leaning so close she thought he might kiss her again. Why did she secretly wish him to? “Keep yer tongue to yerself unless ye wish me to show ye how to really use it.”
He released her, and she scowled. “I believe ye already did last night,” she taunted, trying to remind him of their kiss. For what reason, she did not understand.
Darkness clouded his brilliant green eyes as he braced himself upon both arms and leaned over her. “I can show ye a much better way to use it if ye want…”
Suddenly remembering one of the images in her forbidden book, she flushed and turned away. She knew exactly what he spoke of and scowled when he chuckled at her, before pulling his worn boots over his calves and heading for the door.
“Where are we going?” she whispered, slipping on her leather shoes and walking towards him. With a devilish wink that made her insides quiver, he replied, “To battle, love.”
THOMAS’S BLOOD BOILED in his veins as it all suddenly became clear to him. He watched their enemy, Richard Bingham, surrender immediately upon making eye contact with Katherine aboard Grace’s ship. His grandmother began shouting commands for her crew to commandeer his ship, which he had seen anchored just off the main dockside.
Why he was so blasted angry with Katherine, he could not figure out at that moment, but the need to drag her away and demand answers took over all his reasoning. Swooping her up over his shoulder, Katherine squealed as he carried her into the captain’s cabin, not caring in the moment if those were his grandmother’s private quarters. He needed to rage, and he needed a private place to do that.
“Ye are Bingham’s daughter!” he shouted, throwing her on the solid oak bed nailed down to the cabin’s floor. She bounced on the mattress as her backside landed, then scrambled onto her knees to back into the corner like a wounded animal. “Ye set me up! All of this was to try to get to me. Why?”
“What?” Her round-eyed innocence would not work on him.
“Dinnae play dumb with me, lass.” He stalked forward, fisting his hands. Why did her betrayal hurt so badly? He had only known her for less than a day, yet he had sensed something special about her, something wild, exciting, yet innocent… something he had been quite certain he needed in his life. Now, he was trying to decide how to be rid of her. Gods, Bingham’s daughter Emily had literally grabbed him by the bollocks in England, and now her sister had done the same, only she did not even realize it. He instantly loathed her for sharing the man’s blood. She was his enemy! And then, it dawned on him. “It’s been ye all this time…”
Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, acting as if she had no idea what he meant. “My grandmother says that Bingham has been somehow intercepting all her cargo and she could not understand how. It was ye… with yer spyglass and snooping around! Ye tell him where the cargo is and he collects it, keeping it all for himself while the people starve!”
Something like fire lit in her eyes and she jumped off the bed, pouncing at him. He gripped her shoulders painfully and gave her a shake. “Dinnae deny it! Ye have been aiding yer father in betraying my family!”
“Aye! I have! Ye are nothing more than thieving pirates, stealing cargo from the merchant ships and Spanish galleons that come to aid the Irish people! Ye take the coins for yerself… och, I’ve seen it with my own eyes! Then ye leave the rest of the goods in a cavern, or coves, so some other thief can profit! My father uses those goods for the people! He feeds them and cares for them! I willnae be ashamed of helping him serve Ireland!”
/>
He wanted to kill the lass. He had to back away, press his body toward the farthest wall to prevent himself from throttling the wee bitch. All this time, the people suffered because of her… and fool that she was, she actually believed her father helped people? Nay, she knew what he did. How could she not? She did not care because it made her rich… bought her finery. And yet, looking at her now, she wore a simple wool dress just like a common Irish lass and her shoes were quite worn. She wore no fancy frippery or baubles. Perhaps she dressed this way only when she planned to go spying on pirates. He seethed once more. She was a loathsome human being.
“Yer father is a piece of shite horse’s arse who kills innocent Irish people and lets them starve! He keeps everything for himself, which is a direct violation of the queen’s orders! He is meant to help control the rebels, aye, but he is also meant to govern these people and help them, not punish them for being hungry or stab them in the back while defenseless!”
“Ye are wrong, ye nasty… pirate… knight… whoever ye are!” she shouted back. “He would never do such a thing! He is always gone, helping the people! He commanded me to stay indoors! He does not even know I am the one who sends him missives about the cargo locations! I wanted to help the people!”
“All ye have done is kill them!” He shook with rage. Never in his life had he hated someone as much as he hated Katherine Bingham. Just the name made him want to throw her overboard. Mayhap he should. It would be fine payback for her father’s murder of his uncle and the imprisonment of his grandmother.
“Yer father told my Uncle Owen he wanted a truce. Owen was a peace-loving man,” Thomas whispered, feeling his anger being replaced by pain. “He opened his home to yer father, who tied him up and stabbed him a dozen times while he was defenseless, then tricked my grandmother into believing he would release her son, then imprisoned her for over a year, but not until parading her dead son’s body before her.”
“That’s an awful lie!” she cried. Tears started rolling down her cheek. “He could never… would never…” Her body shook and he almost felt bad but resolved to be a stone wall where Katherine was concerned.
“He would. He does, Katherine. Ye know why he hates my family? Because we pirate, aye. We steal from merchants and the Spanish. But my grandmother uses that gold and cargo to feed her people. Do ye ken who she leaves those goods for in caves?” Katherine sniffled and wiped her nose with her long blue sleeve. “’Tis for the local chieftains. She sends them codes. Each code is for a different pickup point. They find it and bring it to their people. But the past few months, that cargo had gone missing repeatedly. It was ye.” Thomas pointed at her and scowled, feeling his hatred spike once again. “He stole from the Irish. They starve to death because of ye. Then they steal and yer father cuts off their fingers for—”
“Stop! Stop it now!” A horrified sob escaped her throat as she began to pummel him with her fists. “I did not know! I did not know!” Crumbling to the ground, she cried into her hands at his feet. “I have lived here on this island since I was five years old. This is my home. These are my people, though they all hate me. I am so alone! Always alone! I only wanted to help…” As she began rocking back and forth on the floor, his stomach clenched. Could she be this talented a liar? Nay. She spoke true. She was innocent of all knowledge about her father’s deeds. She shared the man’s blood, but not his ill will toward the Irish. Still, the thought that he had kissed Bingham’s daughter, enjoyed it, and had thought of much more, made his stomach sour. Naught could come of his attraction for the lass.
Her words about being alone stung at his heart. He knew all too well what it meant to be alone. Where he had sought the beds of married women and buried his pain in battle after battle, this woman had given herself over to a cause she truly thought meant something, and now she suddenly realized she was the enemy of the very people she sought to help. The pain in her sobs told him she meant well. Still, she had caused more damage than she knew.
A banging at the door had her gasping for air and scrambling to her feet. Grace walked in with a snarl on her face that would have frightened any man, let alone this already distraught woman.
“Yer father has called a parley,” she hissed. “The ship for his daughter. I told him nay.”
“Wh-what?” Katherine stepped back a few times before her calves hit the bed and she fell back onto it.
“I can have the ship without giving ye back, love. Good thing I dinnae want ye. Although, he did kill my son… an eye fer an eye, ye ken? I would kill ye both now, but I am trying to honor my promise to yer queen.” Anger and pain blazed in his grandmother’s eyes but she turned away from Katherine and spoke to Thomas instead. “I told him to load yer ship with all the cargo he had stolen from us over the past several moons and he can have her back. That was meant for me people, not him and his daughter,” she spat.
Thomas refused to look at Katherine, who continued to sob in the corner. He had to remember who she was and what she had done. “Return the lass to him. I want her gone. Once the ship’s crew and cargo are loaded, we head back to Clew Bay.” Without another word, Grace left her cabin.
“Let’s go,” he barked, causing Katherine to jump out of her skin. She shook all over, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her down the few stairs to the main deck without making eye contact. She weakened him, and he did not like it. He needed to be rid of her. A skiff had been lowered and Thomas went first, dropping off the rope ladder onto the small boat before reaching up to grab Katherine and help her down.
“I… I am sorry, Thomas,” she whispered, but he paid her no heed. Her apology did not fix all the damage she had done, but this trade would. They would have their cargo and disperse it to local clans, as planned.
Forcing her to sit on the wooden bench, he grabbed the oars and silently rowed her back to her father. “Thomas…” she pleaded, but he would not look at her. There was nothing to say. “Say something!” she cried.
Stopping the oars, he looked at her, really looked at her and saw how distraught she was. In that moment, something inside him snapped. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head. “We have nothing further to discuss, love. Once ye are back with yer father, we shall never meet again… I hope.” He knew his words hurt her. Whatever this intense connection was between them, the one that made him want to strangle her one moment and kiss her maddeningly the next, was dangerous and unstable.
Reaching the shore, her father ran over to her and ripped her out of the boat by her arms, hugging her closely. “Oh, Katherine! I have been so distraught! Thank heavens you are well!”
She stayed silent and did not hug her father back, Thomas noticed, but Richard was too relieved to see his daughter to care.
“Ye have some very wicked daughters, Mr. Bingham.” The man’s gaze snapped up to Thomas, a wide-eyed look on his paling face. Richard looked at Katherine quickly, who looked confused and broken at the same time.
“Wh-what do you mean, Sir Esmonde?” Richard said through clenched teeth. “I have but one daughter.” The man’s eyes skittered back and forth, and Thomas had no idea what the man was about.
“Last I was at court, I met Lady Emily Bingham, who says she is yer daughter. She also attempted to trap me into a marriage with her. Image that. Ye could have been my father by marriage,” Thomas smirked, doing all he could to discomfort his family’s enemy. “Fortunately, I was much too clever to be seduced by the lass, though I do confess she is bonny and has wandering hands,” he winked. Katherine gasped at his words and looked up at her father with questions in her gaze.
Richard scowled and blustered at his words. “I thank you for your safe delivery of my daughter, Esmonde. Your cargo and crew are being loaded now. Allow me to escort my daughter home. I trust our business is completed, for now.” The scowl and warning in the man’s voice were not lost on Thomas. Nay, he had not seen the last of Bingham and he relished their next encounter, for the man had a debt of blood to pay.
Thomas grunted and, without anot
her word, turned away, hoping to never see Katherine Bingham, the wee hellion, again. Thomas paused and slowly observed his surroundings. The English surrounded him, his own people, yet something felt off. It buzzed through his body like a swarm of bees as the dock beneath his feet vibrated in warning. Just as he attempted to shout to his grandmother to prepare for an attack, the sounds of wood splintering and men screaming filled his ears while he ducked for cover. Something sharp sliced through his arm and he hollered in pain, his ears ringing from the explosions close by.
Smoke filled his lungs and he coughed violently, trying to see through the haze. Shouts rang out and he heard his grandmother commanding her men in the distance. Had she opened fire on the docks after a parley? Would she have so risked his life? Large hands grabbed his shoulders and dragged him backwards roughly. He fought back and roared in pain as one of the hands touched his wounded arm.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw two of his grandmother’s men, her quartermaster Matthew and some other man he recognized but could not place. “What is happening?” he coughed as he felt himself being thrown into a skiff.
“The bastard blew yer ship to bits, he did!” Matthew roared over the sound. “Must have had explosives in the cargo!” They rowed back to the ship and Thomas used all his might to climb back up the ladder, gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm. Reaching the main deck, he heard Grace shouting, “Fire! Destroy these filthy Sassenach ships!” And the entire ship shook as a series of cannons went off, spraying bits of water and wood into the air as they obliterated the Ulster dock, sending Bingham’s men scattering in a stream of shouts and cries.
Slowly, he watched as the remains of his ship sank into the sea, splintered wood and all, while several others were blown to bits as well. His entire body thrummed with the need for revenge. The bloody evil bastard had loaded his entire crew onto that ship and they all went down with it. “Filthy, whoreson… bastard!” he roared, while clenching his fists and saying a prayer for his mistreated crew. He had planned to give them a better life, to free them from their binds of slavery, and offer them a fair split of all cargo and gold they ever found. He would have never forced a man to work for him. But now, those men were dead… except… looking into the violently turning water, he saw one man blustering for air, struggling to stay afloat.
Pirates of Britannia Boxed Set Volume One: A Collection of Pirate Romance Tales Page 51
