Shiver Her Timbers (The Plundered Chronicles Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  “I could say the same about you, sir,” Quinn ventured after a moment of silence. “Ever since your marriage, you’ve not seemed to be yourself.”

  Grace removed her arm and placed both hands on the railing. “Richard-an-Iarainn’s marriage to me has put the bugger as a contender fer the MacWilliamship title. I am quite certain he married me to position himself thusly, and I am no longer certain how I feel about that.”

  Quinn believed Grace was ready to end her one-year trial marriage with Richard before he became too strong. Christian marriage had not but a tenuous toehold in Ireland. Quinn suspected Grace would soon secure whatever it was she married for so they could return to the task at hand.

  “And what does that mean to your marriage, Captain?”

  “I canna worra too much about that right now, Callaghan, not while we are tryin’ to keep Ireland safe. Whatever will happen between me and my husband will not affect what we need to do here. I guarantee that.”

  The Malendroke headed now to Grace’s husband’s castle of Rockfleet, where Quinn was certain that Grace would wish to leave quickly in order to meet with the queen of Scotland and share with Mary what they had found in those chests. Quinn wished she could predict the Scottish queen’s reaction, but she could not. Mary of Scotland was unlike any other woman she had ever met, but her whims and her ways were as foreign to Quinn as the languages of Africa. In the six years since Quinn had met Mary, she had only grown more and more fascinated with the Scottish queen. Mary was strong, fiercely independent, and her loathing of her cousin Elizabeth and of the dandy pirate Francis Drake were well deserved.

  They were coming for Mary of Scotland, and she knew it.

  * * *

  Two days later, after taking the Malendroke out to test out new sails, the crew, led by Quinn and Innis, returned to Carraigahowley Castle, also known as Rockfleet. It was a typical Gaelic castle with a square tower keep, high stone walls, and small bow windows for firing. Positioned just off the water and protected by a small barbican, Rockfleet was four stories high and, at high tide, was surrounded by the sea on three sides. It was situated perfectly and well protected against the winds of Fate... but nothing could protect them from the sight they saw the next morning.

  Up bright and early to clean the deck and repair sails, the crew witnessed one of the oddest moments they would have with Grace O’Malley.

  Standing on one of the ramparts and tossing clothes, boots, even swords down to the ground below was Captain O’Malley, cursing worse than normal and louder than ever.

  The man below receiving this rain of goods was none other than her husband, Richard, who jumped out of the way as the swords plummeted to the ground, some sticking in the wet ground while others bounced this way and that.

  “Away with ya, Richard Bourke! I dismiss ya as my husband.” Grace chucked another pile of clothes to the ground. “Off with thee!”

  Richard yelled something up to her, but the wind blocked Quinn from hearing it.

  Grace grabbed more clothes and dropped them down at him. “Ya have had yer year, and now I take that which is legally mine. Begone lest the crew of my ship and my men inside make a fencin’ dummy out of ya.”

  Richard cast one glance back at the Malendroke before picking up two swords, getting on his horse, and riding away spewing expletives over his shoulder.

  Grace looked out as if seeing the ship and crew for the first time. “Well? Whatterya waitin’ for? An invitation?” she yelled. “Finish up there and get on in fer breakfast. I’m starvin’.”

  Everyone bumped into each other trying to get out of her line of sight.

  Everyone but Quinn, who waited for the plank to lower to the dock and then marched up to the castle where Grace overlooked her.

  “We need to talk about those heads,” Quinn shouted up.

  “Only ya would be foolish enough to take me on while I am in a fit of rage, Callaghan.”

  “We can’t just ignore them, sir.” In all her time on board, Quinn had never really figured out why they called her sir, but they always did. “We need to make a decision about what to do with them. The gold, I get, but the heads? I think they need special handling.”

  Grace reached behind her, tied her long flowing locks in a knot, and used a pulley rope to lower herself to the littered ground below. “I woke up thinkin’ about ’em, Callaghan, and all I keep comin’ up with is we are all in trouble here. I don’t know how much longer we can keep Elizabeth or her lap dog Drake at bay.”

  For six years, Grace had kept a keen eye open for the English pirate who had done her wrong. Even during the time when she was facing the Spanish, she would still search the horizon for his ship. She hated him that much for transgressions that ended with him trying to fool her into sinking a ship with her own men on board. And though she had not done so, Grace O’Malley would never forgive Drake’s intentions, nor would she forget.

  “Callaghan, did ya sketch the faces like I asked? All four faces?”

  Quinn nodded as she reached into her leather jerkin and pulled out the small sketch pad she always carried with her. “Aye.”

  “Good.” Grace took the pad and flipped through the pages. “Well done, Callaghan.” Then she looked at the rest of the crew coming down the ramp. “The resta ya, prepare to sail north. I’ve handled my business here. Now Mary of Scots must be made aware of her business.”

  The crew scuttled like crabs at her command.

  “Where’s Tavish?” Grace called out, her hair whipping around in the wind.

  Tavish quickly approached “Here, sir.”

  Grace studied the drawings for another moment before handing them to him. “Any idea who these could be or why they were chosen?”

  Tavish studied at the bloodless faces once more. “I could be wrong, Captain, but two of them could verra well be cabinet members or advisors to my queen. Hard to tell with no blood or colorin’. These drawins of Callaghan’s are good, though. We oughtta be able to show these to the queen for some sorta verification.”

  Grace nodded, laced her fingers behind her back, and paced back and forth. At nearly six feet tall, she was as imposing a figure as any man, with her brown leather jerkin covering her broad shoulders and her thick, brown leather belt cinched around her taut waist. Two swords dangled from the belt––swords she apparently wore even while at home. Having been attacked once in her house without them, she was never more than an arm’s length away from defense.

  “So we have bloody heads and gold coins in the same chests. Tell me this, Tavish, what does that tell ya? What would ya do if ya were in my boots?”

  Tavish rubbed his chin. “It tells me, Captain, that this is payment to whoever was in charge of cuttin’ off the heads.”

  “Or?”

  Tavish grinned. “Or the heads came after the booty was retrieved. No doubt they are tied together, head and coin.”

  “And the ship carryin’ these was headed––”

  “North,” Quinn replied, knowing Grace knew exactly where the ship was headed. She had always enjoyed puzzling her thoughts out loud.

  Grace strode across the grounds. “Exactly. I’m thinkin’ they had already gathered the gold prior to the beheadins. This is Elizabeth’s gold. So it begs the question, who would she send this amount of money to and fer what purpose? What message was she sendin’ and to whom?”

  Quinn had watched Grace O’Malley work things out loud like this all the time. It kept her, Grace had explained once, from becoming too rooted in her own perceptions. “Who wants a shot at figgerin’ this out?”

  Tavish was the first to take a go at it. “I’ll go, sir. I believe Elizabeth is gearin’ up for the removal of my queen from the throne of Scotland, so Elizabeth sent her men to Scotland to disabuse these men of their heads. The money was originally payment fer the job, but... ” Tavish shook his head as he stared down at the sketches.

  “But? Go on, Tavish.”

  “The fact that the heads are with the coins suggests that someone doubl
e-crossed the killers. That definitely is somethin’ Elizabeth and her men would be capable of. That woman has no loyalty to nothin’.”

  “And yer folks? How keen are they on Mary now?”

  “Keen? I believe the religious tension will only continued to be fueled by Elizabeth. She wants the Protestants under her wing.”

  Grace stopped pacing. “Well done. If many of yer people have turned on Mary to the point of killin’ important members of her inner circle, she needs to be made aware. We cannot allow her to function on false information or to believe that she or her people are enna safer today than they were yesterday. We owe it to yer queen to tell her about these heads and the payment in kind.”

  “Problem is,” Quinn started, stepping forward, “we have no proof it was Elizabeth. This is all supposition.”

  Grace’s eyebrows rose.

  “Conjecture.” Quinn shook her head as she struggled to find a better pirate word. “We just don’t have any evidence or proof.”

  “We do not need proof, Callaghan. We are not goin’ to trial. We are not even doin’ enna investigatin’. All we need do is inform Mary of Scotland what we believe is afoot. One look at those trunks and she’ll be able to figger out whatever it is needs figgerin’. Maybe it’s somethin’, maybe it’s nothin’, but she needs to know what we’ve discovered. Those chests with the heads will remain on board fer the trip to Scotland, but we’re keepin’ the booty. We shall take the heads to Scotland and meet with yer queen once again, Tavish.”

  Tavish locked eyes with her. “Sir? If we are caught with those heads, we will be hanged or quartered before Mary can hear the truth. Are ya certain that’s the way ya want to play it?”

  Grace rubbed her cleft chin in thought. “Ya are correct, Tavish. We most certainly will be hanged if we are caught.” She grinned. “Then I suggest we not get caught. Now, ya all have yer tasks. I suggest ya finish them as quickly as possible. We set sail fer Scotland in the mornin’.”

  As the rest of the men carried out her orders, Grace approached Quinn. “Why so quiet, Callaghan? This was a verra profitable run fer us. I am impressed with the way ya handled the engagement of the men as well as the retrieval of the booty. It was fun to watch.”

  Quinn nodded. “I appreciate the opportunity to try captaining out for size, sir, but in truth I feel much more comfortable with you at the helm.”

  Grace tossed her head back and laughed. “Ya and me both, Callaghan! Now tell me, what’s got yer brow so furrowed this morn?”

  Quinn stepped closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “As much as I know I should go to Scotland with the crew, Fiona is near birthin’ time again and––”

  “And ya wish to be with her.” Grace said the words without inflection.

  Quinn nodded sheepishly.

  “Seems to me, Callaghan, that ya’ve earned the right to take care of some personal business. That’s a lot of English coin ya’ve turned over. Ya have my permission to go, but I cannot let Tavish go with ya. I know he is yer best mate and all, but we are gonna need someone who can navigate the terrain and get us to the queen with as little fanfare as possible.”

  “I do not need an escort, Captain. Going alone is better for me anyway, under the circumstances.”

  Grace nodded in understanding. Six years ago, she had discovered Quinn’s true identity. Not once, as far as Quinn knew, had she revealed that secret to another living soul. “Go then, Callaghan. Send Fiona my love and wish her well. I know that losin’ the babe tore her in two last time.” Kneeling down, Grace pulled a pouch from her boot and filled it with so many coins it nearly split. Handing it up to Quinn, she murmured, “Just in case.”

  Taking the pouch, Quinn nodded. “Thank you, sir. That is very generous.”

  “Don’t return to the Malendroke or Clew Bay until that babe is born. We’ll be fine without ya fer a spell. But... just a spell, mind ya. Now that I divorced Richard, there’s no tellin’ what might happen. His kin won’t look kindly on how I sent him packin’.” Grace chuckled. “And to think he really believed he could get the jump on me and take my castle? That man forgot who he married.”

  “He was an arse, sir. Good riddance, I say.”

  Grace laughed once more. “Go on to yer woman, Callaghan, and be safe. This world of ours is about to turn upside down, and we’re gonna need pirates like ya to help keep Ireland safe.”

  “Aye, captain. I’ll be sure to get back as soon as the babe is born.”

  So, it was with a heart filled with joy mixed with apprehension that Quinn headed alone for Fiona’s castle on the cliff.

  * * *

  “You’ve come,” Fiona said, reaching her arms out for Quinn, who was dressed in a long, flowing dress of a noblewoman instead of her usual pirate gear.

  Quinn used to come as Callaghan the pirate, but once Fiona was made aware of Quinn’s true identity, she came dressed as a woman, so as to allay any suspicion by her husband that they were romantically involved. At first, they were worried the guards who had seen Quinn as a pirate might suspect, but Quinn in a dress and long wig looked nothing like the shorthaired pirate in dungarees and boots.

  Stepping into Fiona’s arms, Quinn could not believe how large her belly had become. “You look about to burst, my love.”

  Fiona chuckled, pulling Quinn into her private chambers and dismissing her attendants. “It is so good to see you, my sweet girl.” Fiona gently held Quinn’s face in her hands and kissed her lips softly, making murmuring sounds as they kissed. “Oh yes... this is just what I’ve been craving.” Pulling and tugging at Quinn’s clothes, Fiona had her out of them in no time, her hands all over her soft skin, her lips never releasing Quinn’s eager mouth.

  “Where is your husband?”

  “Gone for the night. Kiss me.”

  Quinn kissed Fiona, first on the mouth, then letting her lips travel the length of her neck to her shoulders, her collarbone, her upper breast. All the while, her hands slid her robe from her shoulders, leaving her bare and exposed. Her breasts seemed twice as large as they normally were. Goosebumps rose to retaliate against the cold.

  Placing her hands on Fiona’s protruding belly, Quinn knelt on one knee and kissed it all over.

  Fiona gently pulled her back up to her and kissed her long and deep, her tongue reaching into Quinn’s lips. They stood pressed as closely together as Fiona’s large belly would allow.

  The only sounds in the chamber were their heavy breaths as they consumed each other with lustful vigor, peeling off each other’s clothes as if their lives depended on it.

  “My god, how I’ve missed you,” Fiona murmured, lying back on the large bed, her belly looking like a white hill. “More than you could ever know.” Spreading her legs apart, she sighed loudly. “More than either of us could ever know.” Placing her hand on her wetness, she parted herself for Quinn. “I do not know what happens to a woman when she is with child, but I seem to crave you every moment of every day. Please, my love. Take me now. Now—before I burst.”

  Quinn sat on her knees between Fiona’s legs and gently held them apart, marveling at the soft inner skin of Fiona’s thighs and the wetness glistening between Fiona’s fingers. “Truly? Then you must show me, my love. You must give me every ounce of you there is. Give me everything. Hold back nothing.”

  Fiona sat upon her elbows and looked over her protruding belly, a lascivious smile slowly spreading across her face. “And if I don’t?”

  Gently removing Fiona’s hand, Quinn toyed with Fiona’s engorged clit with her fingertips. “Then I shall force you to submit to my will, and we both know how that drives you mad.”

  Fiona visibly shuddered. “Do you not know who I am? I submit to no man.”

  A grin matching Fiona’s formed on Quinn’s lips. “Then it is fortunate for us both that I am not a man. Otherwise this might not be nearly as pleasant.”

  Taking both of Fiona’s legs, Quinn placed them over her own shoulders, forcing Fiona to her back.

  Without takin
g her eyes from her lover’s, Quinn quickly entered her wetness with two fingers. Fiona rewarded her with a quick intake of breath as she began fondling her own breasts, nipples standing erect.

  “So you think you can come into my bedchambers any time you wish and take me?” Fiona gasped.

  Quinn pushed in a little harder as she leaned over and growled. “Push those enormous tits together. It has been too long since they were in my mouth.”

  Fiona did as she was bade, and Quinn lowered her mouth to one of the hard knobs. Before the pregnancy, she could take both in her mouth at once, but now her breasts were too full for that.

  Beneath her, Fiona arched her back and pushed her hips against Quinn’s palm.

  “You have missed me,” Quinn said, taking the nipple between her lips.

  “You have no idea.” Pulling Quinn to her, Fiona kissed her hard, grabbing her hair and holding her there.

  They might have kissed each other like that for much longer had Quinn not felt the baby move. Startled, she leaped off Fiona so fast that she lost her balance and fell back on her ass.

  Fiona, for her part, held her big belly as she laughed and laughed. “Silly thing, it was just the baby urging you on.” Sitting up, Fiona gazed lovingly at Quinn, who sat on the floor, her eyes wide in wonder.

  “I hope I did not hurt her––”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You could never... ” Fiona stared at Quinn. “You said her.”

  Carefully returning to the bed, Quinn smiled as Fiona took Quinn’s hand and placed it on her belly. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “What makes you think this is a girl?”

  “She... feels different than the boy did. You carry her differently.”