Romancing the Pirate 01 - Blood and Treasure

by Jennifer Bray-Weber

  The arch of his eyebrow nearly undid her. “What a brazen proposal, but a splendid idea. I should look forward to another evening in your company. Come. I’ll see you to your quarters.

  CHAPTER 5

  Zane had been anxious to dine with the bonny lass since their earlier stroll. That little firebrand riled him by her brassy intensity. He had no right to be angry with her. She would readily accept Blade’s kiss. And in full view of his crew! Insulted, he wanted to wipe the longing from her face. Maddening! Yet, he couldn’t deny the spark he felt when she was near. When she took him by his arm, liquid heat surged through his body. She teetered so close to a point of no return, for them both. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle her or ravish her.

  He wanted to keelhaul Blade, too, for his indiscretion. But then, ’twas his own damn fault. Blade’s weakness for a lovely lady was his ultimate disability. One day his friend would lose his life over his insatiable peccadillo, most likely with his trousers down. No, Zane could only blame himself for leaving Blade in charge of Lianna. He hated that it bothered him so. ’Twas beyond his comprehension he should even care. Never had the affection of a woman come between them. Bonny girls came and went, but their respect for one another as mates remained steadfast. A pang of jealousy gutted him, the foreign emotion he did not welcome. Zane would rather die before he allowed himself to be covetous over a woman.

  No, he put that little folly between Blade and Lianna behind him.

  Taking liberty with a rum bottle, he felt quite good. Maybe even a little coltish. He had high hopes the evening would hold promise.

  He and Blade sat at the table laughing at old tales that never seemed to die.

  “After his wife kicked his sorry arse out of the house, that poor drunk barnacle was found the next morning snogging a hog in the pig sty.”

  “Snogging a hog!” Blade pounded his fist on his knee. “Stop! You’re going to make my spirits come out my nose.”

  Henri carried in trays of food and added to the mirth. “They say for years ole George wouldn’t so much as eat a slice of bacon.”

  Their thunderous laughter stopped abruptly when Henri dropped a tray, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets. Both men turned to see Lianna who, with Jason, just crossed the threshold of the door.

  Zane’s rage returned two-fold.

  Lianna had dressed in the magnificent emerald green gown from the dresser drawer. She loved the feel of the crisp material fitting snug against her curves. The bodice pressed her breasts up to overflowing, the gold brocade beautifully fringing her bronzed skin. Making do with the soft-bristled brush in her cabin, she wore her hair in a slightly messy coiffure with long wayward tendrils trailing along her neckline. She had pinched her cheeks so as to bring out more of the rosy color resulting from the afternoon sun.

  She felt stunning, even with her eye still looking like a squashed fig. She wanted these rogues to find her undeniably fetching, spawned by a daring motivation that had been brewing inside of her. She had never really cared before about creating a yearning desire in the company of men. But now, well, she decided that the right kind of attention felt completely intoxicating. She held her back straight with brimming confidence.

  Blade closed his mouth long enough to whisper. “Oh shit.”

  For several long moments no one said a word. Lianna suddenly became very flustered, the walls closing in on her. Swirling black clouds again?

  Zane shot to his feet. Knocking his chair back, he threw his liquor bottle to the floor. She jumped as it shattered into dozens of pieces.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He waved a hand at her clothes, his face red with fury.

  “I…” she stammered.

  “Answer me!” He bellowed so loud her ears ached.

  “I found it in the dresser. I thought it would please you.” Her voice barely reached a squeak. What the devil had gotten into him?

  In two strides, he towered beside her.

  “Please me? Please me!” He grabbed her arm, squeezing it tight. “You treacherous liar. You put that dress on to rally me.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He’s gone mad! His fingers dug into her, hurting her, and she grew more than a little terrified. “Let me go.”

  Blade got to his feet. “Zane.”

  By the pulsing veins of Zane’s brow, his head might explode, but not before pulverizing her first.

  Blade cautiously moved forward. “Zane.”

  “Do you mock me, woman?” Zane shook her, his eyes violent. “Do you?”

  Her hair fell free from its pins as she struggled against his grip. Terror gave way to her fight instinct. Breaking free one arm, she bashed him in his jaw. “Let me go!”

  Blade pulled Zane back a step. “Calm down, brother. I don’t think she knew.”

  Zane yanked his shoulder away from Blade’s grasp. “Take it off!” He snatched at the front of the gown, ripping it down, exposing her corset. “Now!”

  “Lay another hand on me and I’ll scratch your bloody eyes out,” Lianna hissed.

  Henri wrestled to stand from picking bits of food and broken glass off the floor and stepped forward. “Capt’n, allow me to take the lass to her quarters.”

  “Aye.” Zane growled low. “Get her out of my sight.” He wheeled around, his broad back to her. “Jason! Where’s my rum, boy?”

  *****

  Lianna broke down and sobbed after Henri helped her to her room. “Why?” She sniffled back her runny nose. “Why is he so angry?”

  Henri offered her a handkerchief. She blew her stuffy nose and handed it back to him. He frowned at it, repulsed, took it by fingertips, shrugged, and put it back into his pocket. “The Capt’n, he just lost his head.”

  “I’ll say. I thought he was about to kill me.”

  “Aye, he was.”

  Startled, Lianna looked up at Henri.

  Henri groaned and sat down beside her on the bed. He fiddled with his pink beard bows. “’Tis the girl, the one this here cabin belongs to. The Capt’n never loved someone as he loved her. Not even his own mother. But alas, the witch betrayed him.”

  “What happened?” Lianna dried her tears. Her interest in this mysterious woman was about to be satisfied. She leaned in close as a young maiden might while listening to a friend’s prattling gossip.

  “Three years past, we landed a merchant ship off the coast of Jamaica. It’d been no wonder we took her so easily. Most of the crew had plum gone missin’ and the few left were wranglin’ a girl, trying to subdue her, tyin’ her to the mast. They were havin’ one helluva of a time. Seems the young lass had schemed to nearly commandeer the whole sloop.”

  Henri chuckled under his breath. “Said she was on a mission to avenge her father’s death by findin’ the bastard who led him to his capture. She was convinced ’twas the capt’n of that ship. She managed to plug a nasty hole in his leg ’fore she was overcome. We got there just in time.”

  “She sounds like a tough girl.”

  “Aye, she was. She’d been passin’ herself off as a lad and could wield a sword better than most. Once she realized who we were, she refused to leave the Rissa. She pulled her weight in ship duties, though, even cleanin’ out the bilge. Well liked, she was, by all of us, ’specially the Capt’n. She’d been a part of the crew for the better part of two years.”

  “What did she do to betray Captain Fox?” Lianna kept the torn fabric held up covering her chest, listening intently.

  “She was a resourceful one, that girl. Used the Capt’n’s trust, stealin’ from his coffer to finance her ventures in destroyin’ all who had a hand in her papa’s death. She didn’t need to steal from him, though.” Henri looked to the ceiling, shaking his head. “He lavishly provided for her, saw to it she had what a woman desired. But he couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted. Revenge. Wouldn’t help her get it, either. Said ’twasn’t his battle to wage. Guess that festered in her.

  “Anyhow, she seduced the Capt’n in that ve
ry dress.” He pointed his thumb at the ripped gown. “In Havana, last March. So spiteful, that lassie, she had him arrested by the local authorities for ravishin’ her. We lost several men that night durin’ his escape. He hasn’t forgiven her.”

  “How dreadful.” To have someone he loved accuse him of a scandalous crime he had not committed must have deeply hurt. He’d have been hung. It pained her to imagine his anguish. “What was her name?”

  “Sadie. Sadie Greene.”

  Lianna mouthed an O, understanding why he went into a tirade. “That explains the newspaper article I found in the bottom drawer, under the dress,” she said.

  Still, she was not Sadie Greene. He had humiliated her for someone else’s actions. And he had been a hairsbreadth from making her fish food.

  “Ma’am?”

  Lianna retrieved the paper. “Yes. About the execution of twenty-three pirates in Kingston including a Joseph Greene. That must be her father.”

  “Aye.” He took the print, pretending to read it. He didn’t fool Lianna. The flat squint in his eyes gave him away. He couldn’t read.

  “That was her father, all right. Died alongside Capt’n Luke. He was a bugger, that one.”

  “But why has he kept up this room? It even has fresh flowers.”

  “I told ye, he loved her. I reckon she still has a place in his black heart for the… M’self, I can’t see goin’ to all the fuss over some tart.” Henri scratched at the back of his head and cleared his throat. “Anyhow, we don’t talk about her lest we get the receivin’ end of the cat.”

  Lianna reached over and retied a bow that had come loose on Henri’s beard. “Thank you, Henri.” She smiled as his cheeks flushed.

  “I guess I’ve lost Captain Fox’s favor.”

  “Just get out of that dress.”

  Henri laid the newspaper on the dresser and walked to the door, then turned back. “Give him what he wants, Miss Whitney. Ye’d be wise. Whatever it may be. Ye’d be wise.” He locked the door behind him.

  *****

  Zane stood just outside Lianna’s door, his hand on the latch. The time had come to get her off his ship, before she caused any more trouble. The old mariner’s superstition about women at sea bringing bad luck crept into his mind. He never believed it, but now…

  Two nights ago, he was ready to have her whipped and pickled then fed to the fish for wearing that green gown. It had taken him this long to bring his anger down to a simmer. Of course, he had overreacted. She had no way of knowing what that dress meant to him, the pain it caused him, of how it represented a weakness in him—or how incredible she looked in it. He was a selfish bastard, he knew. He had wanted to see her on her knees begging him for his mercy. He had none to give. He’d had to stop, rein in his developing angst against Lianna, and force himself to filter through his raw emotions. He healed the wounds left by another, he was stronger now. The scar stemmed thick and would not be easily ruptured.

  He seethed, grinding his teeth and all too ready to dispatch himself of the wench. Groaning, he didn’t know how much longer he could suffer her.

  *****

  Lianna yawned as she sat at the writing table playing a game of cards. They must have made their arrival at Tortuga for the ship fell still. She had tried to get some sleep, but ’twas hard to slumber with her very life at stake. She was close to relinquishing the one possession she had in bartering for her chance to live another day. She believed her captor would keep to their bargain, but then that was before she angered him on a grand scale. At any rate, ’twas only a matter of time before she would see what she wrought.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin at the door crashing open. Zane strode in and stopped inches before her.

  The air around him crackled with intensity. His rigidity unhinged her, his eyes malicious under his thick dark lashes. He wore two braces with four pistols, a red silk sash at his waist wrapped around the hilt of his cutlass and his hand rested on the blunderbuss hanging from his hip.

  She quivered but she wasn’t sure if it was from racking fear or sheer desire. She only hoped he didn’t notice. Either would be detrimental.

  “Well, Miss Whitney. I do believe our arrangement has come to its pivotal juncture.”

  “Indeed.” She put the cards away and rose to face the captain. Her muscles bunched from tension, ready to react to whatever he might do. He stared hard at her for a long moment, a darkness warring within his blue eyes.

  He let out a heavy sigh. “I was irrational the other night.” His frown deepened. “Too much rum.” He petulantly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I will say no more of it.”

  It wasn’t exactly an apology, but Lianna would be a fool not to accept it. By the distressed look on his face as he looked away, she would think he preferred a bullet in the temple to apologizing.

  She offered a small smile when he looked back. “I assume you have found me passage home?”

  “Aye. Unfortunately, not on board the Widow Maker. You’ll have passage on a merchantman bound for Wilmington. I know the captain. He hadn’t planned to stop at New Providence but agreed to drop you at Nassau. It should be a safe journey.”

  A tinge of sadness flitted through her. Her adventure on board a pirate ship was coming to an end. Not that it was a pleasure cruise. But for a few days she enjoyed a bit of excitement in her otherwise dreary existence. More than she could’ve ever had else ways.

  “Very well. I suppose there is nothing left for me here.”

  “No.”

  She reached down into her bodice, not taking her eyes off him. He had raised his right eyebrow as she slightly bent over affording him a better view. Lianna grinned wickedly as she removed her empty hand.

  “Oh, silly me,” she said. “I’d forgotten. I put it under the bed.” Her nasty habit of toying around was bound to get her roasted alive. In some sort of irresponsible way, she hoped to regain his approval. She turned and bent at the waist to remove The Serpent from under the mattress.

  “You’re a knavish girl,” he said irritably. “One with a perfect backside.” He wrapped his fingers around the pendant she held up by the chain.

  “Here now, Captain Fox. I yield to your instruction. I have been stripped of what has bound me to your word. I solemnly await your will.”

  He glanced at the blue vase on the writing table. “Somehow, I doubt that very much.” He seemed to calculate its closeness, enough to be within her reach. “Besides, you blandish yourself on my behalf. I have no intention of forcing myself upon you. I see no pleasure in such a disgusting dalliance.”

  Did it just get cold in here? Lianna thought that maybe she was relieved. Maybe. Wait. Disgusting dalliance? Did he just call me disgusting?

  “If there is nothing more, let us go.” Zane turned his back to leave.

  Yes, there was a definite chill in the air.

  “Make haste, Miss Whitney.” He halted at the door, waiting for her to follow. “We’re burning candlelight.”

  Outside, darkness had not given up its reign in the sky. A cool breeze blew in from the north. The moon poised herself readying to droop behind the craggy hillside of the island. The sky to the east paled into a cerulean backdrop. The blueness appeared to be chasing after the stars, swallowing them when they got too near to its intensity.

  Crewmen rushed about busily, working feverishly over every square inch of the ship. Rigging was being set, cannons placed at gun ports, and shot carefully stacked.

  There was so much noise. Orders were shouted from boatswains over the clanging of metal against metal, metal against wood. Men running here, men running there. Each with a specific duty. But amid all of what she thought chaos, there was order, precision. These men were skilled in a dangerous fashion. Something to be admired.

  A deckhand crossed her path tossing sand to the deck floors. Another scaled down the ropes beside her. Still two more rolled a gun to the edge and a third stuck a wedge behind its wheel. Lianna couldn’t focus with so much commotion. She tried
to keep up with the captain but, in the oddly concerted toiling, became disoriented. She bumped into a wooden box stacked high with eight-pound cannon balls. The pile dislodged and the balls violently crashed to the deck rolling in every which direction.

  “Oh saint’s blood,” she cursed.

  Zane turned just as a ball landed upon his foot. His eyes grew wide as he grabbed for a nearby rig line and tightened his grip on his pistol. Lianna thought she heard him whimper.

  “Terribly sorry.” She shrugged.

  Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. His knuckles were so white she thought the bones would tear through.

  “Try counting to ten.” She put on her best, sweet, innocent smile.

  Zane took a deep breath. “You there!” He pointed to the cannon’s gunner. “Pick this shot up before someone trips and breaks their neck.”

  The seaman dutifully gathered the round iron shot. Lianna bent to help. She picked up one of the balls, but she was unprepared for the heavy weight and lost her hold. Zane jumped in time to the side, as if frightened by a big hairy spider, before the ball could hit its mark. He moved so quickly, Lianna had to squelch her laughter.

  Gathering up her skirt, she said, “Well, then, let’s get on with this.” She minced past the captain toward the ship’s entryway. Zane limped behind her, saying things under his breath she was certain she didn’t want to hear.

  The small boat to take her ashore bobbed tethered to the side of the brig. A scruffy man seated at the oars waited. His red leather skin marked an outlandish contrast to his wiry, patchy white hair. His arms were so thin, she worried they would snap off when he rowed them to the quay. She supposed ’twas a good thing she enjoyed good health. She just knew the weather-beaten old dog was going to seize up and give out in mid row and she would be left to paddle herself to the dock.

  Blade, Jason and even Henri were waiting by the steps to see her off. She smiled. She had managed to make a few friends after all, and that, if anything, was golden.