How to Steal a Pirate's Heart (The Hawkins Brothers Series)

by Alexandra Benedict

  The unnerving thought festered in his soul. He suddenly found it difficult to breathe. About to turn away from all the familial gaiety, a flash of movement snagged his attention.

  William sharpened his astute gaze on Lady Madeline. The woman offered a throaty laugh as she funned with an unsuspecting miss . . . then stealthy unclasped the chit’s diamond bracelet and slipped it into her reticule.

  CHAPTER 2

  Madeline ducked behind the potted ferns, her heart pounding. She took several breaths before her pulse steadied and she regained her poise.

  She would never grow accustomed to such audacious risks, but grave matters called for grave measures. With another valuable tucked inside her reticule, she had nearly reached her goal. Just a few more carefully selected pieces from a few more frivolous misses’ and she’d have the funds she so desperately needed.

  After smoothing her skirt and tweaking her satin gloves, Madeline gathered another hardy breath and stepped away from the secluded shrubbery—when an uncouth hand clinched her arm and dragged her back behind the feathered ferns.

  “Unhand me!”

  Her protest was cut short by a pair of piercing blue eyes penetrating straight to her soul. As her grandfather would’ve exclaimed: shiver my top-sails.

  Captain William Hawkins glared at her with all the gentlemanly finesse of a cutthroat, and Madeline’s heart surged again. The craggy fingers of doom gripped her throat, shrinking her airway, as she realized she’d made a dreadful mistake plundering at the ball.

  From the moment she’d capped eyes on the captain, she’d sensed his cold indifference, his savvy insight. He wouldn’t allow a fleck of dust to pass under his nose unobserved, she’d suspected. And yet the temptation of so many jewels had weakened her judgment. Blast it!

  In her most placating voice, Madeline cooed, “Captain Hawkins—”

  Air whooshed from her lungs as she staggered. The captain maneuvered her through the terrace doors and into the garden with fluid strides. Another polished swivel and jig, and a dizzy Madeline found herself stuffed inside a dark carriage with one nettled man.

  The vehicle lurched. She teetered. A strong hand reached for her. It failed to secure her, though. Instead, it snatched the reticule from her wrist—allowing her to ignominiously topple over the squab.

  Recovering her balance, Madeline sniffed with indignation. “How dare you abduct me, Captain Hawkins.”

  A black brow arched. “This is not an abduction, my lady—this is an arrest.”

  Her throat closed even tighter. Was he frightening her? Or would he truly hand her over to the authorities? He wouldn’t dare, she thought. The scandal! And they were family . . . Yes, they were family. In-laws of some sort. Surely, he wouldn’t toss his kin into the gaol?

  Softening her posture, she said in her most feminine voice, “Cousin William.”

  “Cousin Madeline,” he mimicked in a merciless tone.

  He would not be moved by any supplications of family ties, the brute, and she finally sighed in defeat. “Cousin Maddie will do,” she offered. “I trust we can come to a discreet arrangement?”

  “An arrangement?”

  “There’s no need to create a public stir, ruining my dear cousin’s wedding night.”

  His growl skittered over her spine.

  “No need, indeed. Very well, Cousin Maddie, you will take me to your home and hand over the other stolen jewels—and I won’t escort you to the gallows.”

  The tension in the carriage thickened like smoke. She reached for the window, pinching it open. “I have no other stolen jewels.”

  “Liar,” he charged. “You are the Light Finger Jewel Thief. For several months, you’ve pilfered valuables from aristocrats across Town.”

  “I-I only pinched the bracelet tonight, I swear.” Her blood roared in her ears as her heart thudded with the ferocity of a caged beast. “I have no other jewels.”

  “Your sleight of hand condemns you, I’m afraid. I’ve been at sea for twenty-five years. And in that time, I’ve met a pirate or two.” He leaned forward, his eyes black as onyx. “And you are a pirate, Cousin Maddie.”

  “Rubbish.”

  “Enough! Edmund is a Bow Street Runner. How would it appear if his cousin-in-law, a notorious thief, pillaged the city and he did nothing to prevent it? There would be an outcry. A demand for his head. Corruption, the crowd would chant. Lawlessness. And perhaps Lady Amy would become a widowed bride.”

  Madeline swallowed a heavy lump in her throat.

  “The jewels or the gallows, my lady?”

  His facetious “my lady” strangled her airway even more. He cared not a jot about what happened to her, only his brother and sister-in-law. Hope flittered from her heart. She was doomed. And so was her grandfather.

  No! cried a defiant voice in her head. She had not come so far, waded through such perilous circumstances to surrender her only chance at ransoming her grandfather. If Captain Hawkins would not negotiate like a gentleman, then she would act like the pirate he accused her of being—she would give no quarters.

  Madeline clamped her hands together in feigned resignation. “Very well, Captain Hawkins.” And she confessed her address.

  He shouted directions to the driver before settling back against the squab, and they spent the remainder of the journey in taut silence.

  ~ * ~

  “This is your home?”

  As William entered the library, Madeline wondered if he was incredulous or indifferent or mocking in his tone. She had never met a man with such powerful reservation. He was impossible to read. And that worried her a might.

  “Cozy, isn’t it?” she quipped.

  He passed the cases of ancient maps and marine specimens and tribal carvings, a tiny mermaid preserved in formaldehyde and a ghostly ship in a bottle. When he reached the fireside mantle, his black brows cocked.

  William fingered the shrunken head. “Cozy, indeed.”

  “Have a seat,” she offered.

  “I’ve no time for pleasantries.”

  “Come, Cousin William. There’s no need for us to be uncivil.” She gestured toward the winged armchair again. “A nightcap?”

  He eyed her for a moment before he slumped into the seat, rubbing his brow. Was he tired? Annoyed? Damnation. He would not make her treachery easy.

  Madeline stepped toward the liquor cabinet and removed a glass stopper, filling two tumblers with brandy. Keeping her back to the captain, she removed a small vial from a secret compartment and emptied the powdery contents into one of the tumblers.

  Would the substance subdue him, she wondered? He was a big man. Tall. Muscular. He might feel some of the drowsy effects . . . or none a’tall. Then what would she do?

  Her heart drummed. But she hadn’t any more of the drug. It was a potent concoction, though. She’d just have to take the chance and hope—hope a little potion brought down a powerful man.

  “Here we are.” She swivelled with fanfare. After setting the tainted glass on a small table beside the captain, she took the opposite seat. “Cheers.”

  “The jewels.”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, the jewels. I’m afraid I don’t keep them in the house. I’ve secured the baubles in the bank, to protect them.”

  He released a long, measured sigh. “I see.”

  Seconds later he pushed out of the armchair and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to tear your cozy house apart until I find the jewels.”

  She dashed toward the door, blocking his path. “I-I might have a few trinkets tucked in the upstairs rooms. Sit. Drink. I’ll fetch them.”

  “I don’t drink, damn it!”

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered. Was he a prohibitionist? Just her wretched luck.

  Suddenly his arms went up on either side of her head, while his nose nearly touched hers. “The jewels, Cousin Maddie. All of them.”

  His sultry breath caressed her lips, evoking an involuntary shudder.
If he hadn’t hellfire burning in his eyes, he might even be devilishly handsome. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t, you mean?”

  “All right, I won’t.”

  His nostrils flared. “You would go to the gallows?”

  In a soft voice, she asserted, “If I must.”

  He pushed away from her, incomprehension in his shadowy gaze. “How could you do this to Lady Amy?”

  Another lump gathered in her throat. “I wish my cousin every happiness, but my circumstances are dire.”

  “A poor excuse. Whatever happened to family?”

  “I am doing this for family.”

  “Bullocks.”

  She fisted her palms. “You are a hard man, Captain Hawkins.”

  “You’ve not seen the worst of me.”

  A chill reverberated down her spine. He was cold. But devoted to his kin. He would do anything to protect his brother and sister-in-law. He was intense, if unemotional. And she had pressed upon irrational sentiments, like flirtation and trickery, instead of more rational ones.

  With a better understanding of the man, Madeline took a bold step toward him. “You have not seen the worst of me either, Captain Hawkins.” And in a wintry manner, she passed him, pausing behind the writing desk. “I have a grandfather. His name is Sir Richard McNeal.”

  “The great explorer?”

  She removed a folded missive from a locked drawer. “You’ve heard of him?”

  “I’ve read his tomes.”

  “Ah, yes, his great adventures to faraway lands. He sailed the world, you know? Searching for treasure. For fame. He sailed beyond the northernmost point of Baffin Island, into the arctic. He had traveled farther than any other explorer at the time. And last year, he died at sea.”

  “I read his eulogy in the broadsheets.”

  Madeline settled in an armchair, her legs shaky. “The royalties from his novels provide me with a comfortable income. I am his sole heir. And all this . . . treasure belongs to me now. I am content, Cousin William. I am not rich. I have no prospects. And I was prepared to spend the rest of my life looking after my grandfather’s estate and keeping his memory alive.”

  “And you need the jewels to save his estate?”

  “No, I need the jewels to save my grandfather.”

  The man frowned. “Save him from what?”

  “Pirates.” She presented him the letter. “Real pirates, Captain Hawkins.”

  His expression dubious, William reached for the folded paper and unfurled the note.

  “Three months ago, this message arrived from the Bahamian Islands,” she said, her words now quivering as much as her legs. “A demand for ten thousand pounds in return for my grandfather.”

  He scanned the few curt lines, concluding brusquely, “A sham.”

  “I considered it a sham, too. Ne’er-do-wells looking to profit from a grieving granddaughter. But this accompanied the letter.” She removed her glove, revealing a slender ring on her middle finger. “Grandfather gave me this ring for my sixteenth year. He said it’d belonged to a princess from the Far East. He always had a tale to tell.”

  As her heart throbbed, Madeline slipped the glove back over her hand, protecting the keepsake. “I gave him the ring before he set sail. I sensed something dreadful might happen to him during the voyage. ‘I promise to return the bauble to ye, lass’ he assured me. A year later, I received news of his drowning.”

  In a startling tender voice, the captain offered, “The pirates might have found his body, the ring still in his possession.”

  She blinked back tears, her eyes stinging. “Yes, I considered that, as well. But the pirates are demanding ten thousand pounds. An outrageous amount. And a great overestimation of my grandfather’s wealth. No doubt he is at fault for the ransom price, for he loves to boast, you see? Another reason I believe him alive.”

  William presented her with a kerchief.

  She accepted the surprising gesture of kindness, dabbing at her watery eye, suspecting the forbidding captain might not be as impassive as she’d first imagined. “You must understand, if there’s even the smallest hope of helping my grandfather, I will take it—however dangerous. And if he is dead, and they have his remains, I still want to bring him home. He deserves a proper burial.”

  The captain dropped back into the opposite armchair, ruminating. “Why didn’t you borrow the money?”

  “Who could I ask for help? I have no other family.”

  She rubbed her thumbs together, unsettling memories filling her head. Her admission wasn’t entirely true. She had parents, siblings. But she was estranged from the lot of them. Other than Cousin Amy—and her grandfather—Madeline had no other relationship with her kin.

  “And my brother, Edmund?” he wondered.

  “Cousin Edmund is a good man. But he and Amy have much to worry about, like Gravenhurst.”

  “Hmm . . . And once you’d amassed the ten thousand pounds worth of jewels? What would you have done?”

  “A map accompanied the ransom letter. I would have followed it to the tropical island and made the exchange, of course.”

  “You? Alone?”

  “I can’t afford to hire a crew of privateers. And I reasoned, if the pirates wanted future ransom demands to be paid, they wouldn’t injure their prisoners. It would ruin their reputation. No one would ever pay them a ransom again.”

  “A valid point. Business is business, after all.”

  “Precisely.”

  After a stretch of agonizing silence, she intervened with, “I haven’t much time, Captain Hawkins.”

  “I understand.”

  A great sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you for letting me keep the jewels.”

  “You are not keeping the jewels.”

  Her heart dropped. “But I must deliver the ransom.”

  “It’s still too dangerous to risk Edmund and Amy’s involvement, however indirect. The jewels will be returned to their rightful owners, while the ‘thief’ will slip through the authority’s fingers.”

  “I see. Your family is more important than mine.”

  “Our family is important, Cousin Maddie. You will surrender all the jewels to me—and I will take care of the pirates.”

  A strange sensation overwhelmed her: a mixture of unfettered hope and intense disbelief. An hour ago he had threatened to hang her. Would he really help her now?

  At a loss for words, she blurted out, “What?”

  “I have a battle-ready crew who are not afraid to fight slavers or pirates. If your grandfather is still alive, we will rescue him—and destroy the pirates, ransom be damned.”

  “You would do that?”

  “For a price.”

  She stiffened. A price. Yes, of course. Why else would he make such a generous gesture? Her bewilderment sharpened into a business-like mindset. As his eyes darkened and fixated on her, she prepared herself for the “price” she would pay to rescue her grandfather.

  “Name your price, Captain Hawkins.”

  “William, please. I have a favor to ask of you.”

  He had dropped all formalities, like captain and cousin, and she braced herself for the “favor” she would owe him . . . for she sensed it was highly personal, indeed.

  “Go on,” she whispered.

  “After I retrieve your grandfather, I want you to deliver a letter to my sister, the Duchess of Wembury.”

  Her jaw tensed. She waited for the rest of the favor to be revealed, but when he remained mum, she demanded, “Is that all?”

  He nodded.

  Her brows pinched. She’d anticipated a much heavier burden, a more intimate exchange. His expression, so burning with determination, still burning with determination, suggested a very private, even emotional, price.

  “I don’t understand,” she said after a short pause. “Why not post the letter?”

  “I would prefer it travel in safer hands. I would like you to present it to her in person.”

  “And you can not present the le
tter yourself?”

  “I will not be returning with you to England.”

  She started. “Why?”

  A darkness settled upon his gaze, as if he’d slipped a pair of sunshades over his eyes. “That is my private concern.”

  “But a ship without a captain?”

  “My first lieutenant is a loyal, trustworthy officer. He will see you and your grandfather home to England. As soon as you reach port, you will deliver the letter to my sister. Do we have an agreement?”

  Though still unsure about the peculiar circumstances, Madeline wasn’t going to lose such an opportunity. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He reached for the brandy. “We set sail at dawn.”

  “Don’t drink that!”

  He stopped and glared at her. “Poison?”

  “Laudanum.”

  Slowly he set the glass aside.

  CHAPTER 3

  William stood aboard the Nemesis, watching his crew load supplies: barrels of flour, cheese and salted meats, gunpowder and rum.

  One last voyage.

  Aye, it was perfect. One last journey to the tropical isles he’d plundered with his father and brothers. One last battle. One last adventure. And if he survived the clash, he’d remain on the island—alone—and await death.

  A heaviness lifted from his shoulders. He wouldn’t have to confront his family about his wretched demise. He wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of growing sickly and weak in their presence. He wouldn’t have to endure their expressions of pity.

  A stout strength filled him, and he heaved an energetic breath.

  He turned and scanned the crowded Thames, then lifted his eyes to the foggy cityscape, lingering over the districts where his family lived. His sister would receive his farewell letter, revealing his illness and death. There would be no maudlin gestures of goodbye or weepy embraces. The very thought churned the bile in his belly. It wasn’t a proper death for a man, a captain, a pirate.

  “Ahoy, Captain.”

  Her breezy voice hinted at excitement, at the hope of finding her grandfather alive. And if not for her determination to rescue her grandfather, William wouldn’t have an honorable reason to weigh anchor and set sail for the Caribbean.