Belle and the Pirate

by Vivienne Savage

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Conall makes his own decisions. Well, he did before Sorcha. Now they make them together. He’s not weak because he believes in the gods and needed their help once.”

  “I envy him, then.” He kissed her brow then laid his cheek on her head. “I wonder whose prayers they’re answering.”

  Belle said nothing and only held him tighter. She squeezed her arms around him then turned her head, bringing her lips to his.

  Any other women he’d kissed may as well have been a lifetime ago, banished from his memory. There was only Belle, fondness for her overriding all else. And he couldn’t get enough of her. No matter how much he tried, each sweet kiss led to another until he wished he had both hands to fully explore her body the way it deserved.

  He had to wonder at his own honor sometimes, struggling to maintain his sensibilities when all he wanted to do was carry her to his cabin and never come out again. The memory of her cries in the shower haunted him, the sweet way her body tensed and responded to his touch a siren’s song he no longer wanted to resist.

  He tore his mouth away before lust overtook him completely and pressed his cheek to her brow, waiting for his racing heart to slow. Suddenly parched, he loathed his lack of foresight to bring drinks up to the deck. He glanced to the side and saw a tray on a folding table with a decanter of wine and two long-stem glasses.

  Eliza. A subtle, magical shimmer still shone around its edges, the telltale sign of her using spells to summon and place objects. She could move and relocate small, inanimate things with a casual gesture of her hand.

  “Shall we have a drink?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  More than wine awaited them on the table. Cook had taken the time to bake her famed petit fours. The tiny, iced delights were arranged on a silver plate with chocolate truffles and fresh berries from Neverland.

  “This wine has bubbles.” Belle held up the glass he passed to her and watched the small beads stream up to the surface.

  “A special vintage from my family’s vineyard.”

  “Yours?”

  Her startled look reminded him of how much they had left to share about their lives—so many conversations to have and memories to relive. In a way, he was glad Little Wolf’s absence would require them to rely on the natural wind, extending the duration of their voyage to her homeland. It gave him that much more time with her, as selfish as it was of him.

  “Yes. We had half a case on board when we left Eisland, and I’ve hoarded them over the years. At the time, my family was the only one who made the style. Now, there’s no telling.”

  “I’ve never seen a vineyard. We don’t make wine in Creag Morden, but Clan Ardal brews the best mead.”

  “I’ve never had much taste for the stuff.”

  “Then you’ve had bad mead,” she told him in a serious voice.

  “Perhaps so.” He chuckled and sipped from his glass.

  In true Belle fashion, she delighted over the way the bubbles tickled her tongue, then hopped from one subject to the next without any seeming connection.

  “Eliza called you a manwhore once. What’s that?”

  A little wine went down wrong. James coughed until his eyes watered. “She told you what?”

  “Not to me, but I overheard it when she was speaking with Dancing Willow.”

  James grunted. “It’s difficult to explain.”

  “Try me. I’m not dumb, James.”

  “I know you aren’t.” He blew out a heavy breath and averted his gaze. “There was a time before I met you when I slept with many women. I’d bed anyone with two legs. Sometimes even one,” he said in a quiet voice. “And I’m not particularly proud of that man.”

  “And the brothels?”

  He hated that she’d ever learned about them but gave a little nod. “Aye, I’ve visited my fair share of them as well. In Samahara mostly, and sometimes Liang, but never in Neverland. The island is…” It was different, too pure for his worst behavior. He’d always controlled himself while there, even if there were some island women who practiced the sensual arts.

  “Is that why you’re reluctant to be with me and wanted to court me?”

  “I suppose so,” he said after a heavy breath. “Such rakish behavior is encouraged among the Eisland elite, for men and women both. Successful young nobles have the freedom to do what they want, and our cities hold several gambling dens where pleasures of the flesh are always available. However, I don’t want to treat you like any other conquest I’ve had in some other land and tossed aside once it was time to ship out or move on. I want…” What the hell did he want? He tried to grasp it, but the slippery concept eluded him until he gazed into Belle’s green eyes.

  Something about her had wound around his heart and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t that he was afraid of using her—he was afraid of losing her. Somehow in the months of their voyage together, she’d come to mean more than any woman of his past. She was the only woman he wanted in his future.

  If he wanted to uphold his promise, he’d have to return her to Cairn Ocland and say goodbye in less than a month.

  How had a sprite become his ideal woman?

  “Well?” she prompted in the same gentle voice.

  “I want you to stay aboard the Jolly Roger. With me.” And with the stars as his witness, he wished she could.

  * * *

  James made the one offer she could never accept. How could she possibly choose to remain on the Jolly Roger when her family waited for her back home?

  He watched her with imploring blue eyes, waiting for her to respond. “Belle?”

  “Um.”

  “You won’t stay.”

  “I didn’t say that…”

  “But you didn’t say you would, either,” he pointed out. A weak, fleeting smile came over his face. “It’s all right. I understand. You have a life in Cairn Ocland, and you’re eager to return to it.”

  “I miss the baby,” Tink said. “I’m supposed to protect him.”

  “And you can’t do that from a ship. I understand.”

  Despite his composed response, Tink’s shoulders drooped with guilt. Was she any better than the James Hook of the past, eager to enjoy his body before flying away to her old life?

  “I have a letter to write Joaidane. He supplied me vital news about the upcoming travel routes planned by Ridaeron, and I should send him my gratitude.”

  “James—”

  He kissed her brow and smoothed her wind-tousled blonde strands away from her face. “Come to bed when you’re ready, love.”

  After his descending steps faded and the door to his private cabin closed behind him, Tink sank down to sit at the makeshift table. She tipped back the remainder of her wine and gazed glumly at the tranquil water reflecting the starlit night.

  I wish… I wish I could be with James always.

  When nothing happened, Tink refilled her glass. She sipped a while longer, lost in her thoughts until the thud of footfalls against wood drew her attention to the hatchway. Eliza came down the steps from the quarterdeck and frowned.

  “Drinking alone? Where’s James? And why haven’t you eaten any of those cakes?”

  “He has a letter to write.”

  “Ah, I see. Enjoying the fresh air a while longer?”

  Tink nodded.

  “I can’t blame you,” Eliza said. “The smell of rum has been infused into the wood in that damned cabin of his. It would help if he opened the windows.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Keeping the Jolly Roger on course is my duty tonight. The bunch of us, we alternate, you see. It should be James, but as your time with him is limited, I claimed the wheel.”

  “That was nice of you. We didn’t even notice you.”

  “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for him.” Eliza crossed the last little bit of distance between them and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You’re looking troubled.”

  “I am.”

  �
��It’s just us girls up here. Want to talk about it?”

  “Don’t you have to steer the ship?”

  “It’s fine. The wheel is lashed since we’re on a straight course for a bit. So? Will you tell me why you look so glum?”

  Tink, clasped her hands on her lap and shrugged, gaze trained on her slippered feet.

  “What’s the pompous lout done now?” Eliza demanded. “Honestly, Belle, if he’s hurt you somehow, I’ll set him straight myself.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” she said in a rush, looking up. “It’s… He wants me to stay on the Jolly Roger.”

  Eliza’s fair brows lifted. “Does he now? Well then, what’s the problem?”

  “I’ll be small again soon.” She rose from the seat and moved to the rail, shoulders slumped. “I want to stay, but I’m Kendric’s godmother. My family is so far away.”

  “I know how it is to miss your family. When we left Eisland, I left behind friends and cousins. Even a man who might have one day become my husband.”

  Tink turned, putting her back to the rail, and looked at Eliza in surprise. “You did?”

  “We all have someone back home we can’t see anymore without risking our safety, but I wouldn’t change my decision if it was offered to me. Sometimes we have to go where life leads us, even if it’s away from those we love, because you never know when it will bring you to others you’ll love as much or even more.”

  “I never thought of it that way… But…” Tink wrung her hands together. “I don’t know how long I’ll be around.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sprites live very short lives. I… I never counted mine in human years before, but we age differently. We’re born as adults, not children. And… I have only a year or two left. I’m old, Eliza.”

  “You’re scared of leaving him.”

  “What will he do if I tell him the truth?”

  “The only thing he can do, my friend. James will love you deeply for what little time you have. But you don’t need me to tell you this, Belle. He’ll tell you it on his own if you share your concerns with him.”

  Tink nodded and wiped her face. “Being human is exhausting.”

  “It can be at times.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “Tell you what. Since I’m stuck up here for another two hours at least, why don’t you go enjoy the tub in my cabin?”

  “Oh, I don’t know… I already washed and that’s your room.”

  “And I’m offering it to you for a bit. Mull things over, relax in the water, then go and talk with James. Take the plate with you. Trust me, a bath with wine and sweets is the best cure for a burdened heart.”

  “Thanks, Eliza.”

  “Anytime. And, Tink, no matter what you decide, all your friends here on the Jolly Roger will support you.”

  As she wound her way down through the ship to the officers’ quarters, Tink’s heart wasn’t eased. If anything, Eliza’s kindness and easy friendship complicated the decision. The Jolly Roger had become like a home to her, and the crew her family.

  How could she possibly abandon one family for another? James had said they weren’t due to return westward to Cairn Ocland’s shores and had ships to raid in the east, but they would travel hundreds of miles out of their way to deliver her safely home.

  Tears sprang to her eyes anew when she entered Eliza’s private bedchambers. She shut the door behind her and made her way into the back of the room where a pretty porcelain, four-claw tub sat behind a screen made of wood and thin paper. Painted butterflies and flowers covered the delicate material. A small table nearby provided the perfect spot to set the tray of sweets and the wine.

  Tink started the water and sat on the rim while it began to fill. James had boasted about the Jolly Roger’s plumbing, claiming his ship had been the first to outfit more than the captain’s cabin with hot water and pipes. Even the shared berthing deck had a small shower for the crew.

  While she waited, she reached across to the table to sample the petit fours. The thin layers of cake, sweet fruit, and icing truly were a delight. She’d never tasted anything so airy and delicious. Greedy for more, she popped another two into her mouth and closed her eyes as she experienced dessert heaven.

  “Tink!”

  Startled by the cry, Tink tumbled off the ledge of the tub and hit the deck, coughing and sputtering her mouthful of cake. She rubbed her stinging backside and looked around in confusion, certain the voice calling her name had been Sorcha.

  “Hello?”

  “Tink, over here.”

  Sorcha’s voice echoed from a nearby oval mirror hung on the wall. Instead of Tink’s reflection, two of her favorite people peered back at her.

  “Queen Anastasia? Sorcha! What took you so long?” Tink cried. She’d been waiting forever for them to contact her with the queen’s crystal ball. For two-way communication, Anastasia required the recipient of her messages to have a reflective surface at hand.

  “Thank the stars,” Sorcha sobbed. Her shoulders shook as she sniffled and wiped her face with one wrist. She clutched Kendric to her bosom with the other arm. “We thought you were dead. We were certain you—wait a moment. Where are your wings? You’re large.”

  “Only for one more night. A nice shaman helped me, but only after a sea witch asked to cut off my wings forever. I wanted to know what it was like to be big for a little while.”

  The two women wore matching expressions of horror. Anastasia recovered first. “Tinker Bell, what’s happened? You’ve been gone for months now. Conall enlisted Ramsay and Victoria’s aid. Even Alistair and Teagan have gone out into the southern woods seeking you.”

  Sorcha leaned closer to her. “We were so worried something had happened to you when they found evidence of poachers from Liang inhabiting the lowlands.”

  “Poachers did happen to me,” Tink said grimly. “But I’m free now.”

  “Where are you? Conall had enough and set out on foot over a month ago. Queen Anastasia searched all of Cairn Ocland and even Liang for you.”

  Tink bit her lower lip. “I’m not in Cairn Ocland anymore. I’m on a ship in the Viridian Sea.”

  Sorcha’s eyes widened. “The Viridian Sea?”

  “The poachers sold me to Ridaeron merchants, and then a pirate ship sacked them.” When both women turned white as sheets, Tink hastily continued, “But the pirates are my friends and they’re very nice people!”

  “Tink, pirates are dangerous,” Anastasia told her. “Creag Morden has a small naval fleet, and they’ve run afoul of pirates before. They steal whatever they can.”

  “Not James,” Tink declared, defending the man with a fierceness that surprised even herself. “He saves people. He rescues children bound for the slave markets and sees them to safety and freedom. He’s a very good man.”

  “James…” Anastasia stared at her. “James, as in James Hook?”

  “You’ve heard of him?” Her smile brightened. Of course they’d heard of him. How could they not, when he helped so many people?

  “Tink, he’s a murderer!” the queen admonished her. “You must escape at once—no, wait, where are you? Have you any idea of your location? I can send Alistair to fly to you at once.”

  Horrified by the accusation, Tink reeled backward and stared at Anastasia. “That’s a lie! I’ve never seen James murder anyone—well, he did shoot a sea hawk, but it was trying to eat me,” she reasoned, finding absolute logic in the single killing. “The Lost Boys love him, and Tiger Lily says he’s a good leader.”

  Queen Anastasia’s eyes appeared positively stormy, arcane light shimmering within her green irises. “I’ve pinpointed your location and found you. I will send my husband at once to fetch you and dispatch with this criminal. It’s for the best, and for the safety of all who travel the seas.”

  “No!” Tink cried. “What about what’s best for me? I love him, and I want to stay with him. Whatever you’ve heard about James isn’t true.”

  “King Harold of Eisland himself told the tale
to my father. I heard every word regarding this man’s atrocities,” Anastasia began. “He—”

  “It’s lies told by an awful king who deals in slavery. Eisland is full of monsters. If you take James away, I’ll… I’ll hate you forever!”

  Sorcha gasped. “Tink.”

  “I’ll hate all of you, and I’ll never forgive you.” And then she burst into tears, unable to stop the torrent of moisture flooding down her cheeks. She wanted to love them for caring enough to rescue her, and loathe them equally for daring to utter a word against James’s sterling reputation. As a sprite, she’d never experienced more than one emotion at a time, but as a human, they became too complicated to control. “He’s a good man. He helps people.”

  Stunned, the two women said nothing, speechless throughout Tink’s insuppressible sobs.

  “Ana, could it be possible that there could be any truth at all to whatever this man has told her?”

  “I… My father and King Harold are good friends. Victoria’s mother is his niece. I can’t imagine such lies lasting for long without a shred of truth to them.”

  “Victoria’s mother isn’t the most likeable of people,” Sorcha reminded her. “She was banished back to Eisland, remember?”

  “I’d always assumed her to be one of a small minority… For many years, James Hook has been a boogeyman of sorts, plundering all merchant ships in the Viridian Sea.”

  “He left because they wanted him to ship slaves,” Tink said between sobs. “He r-rescues ch-children. I’ve seen it myself.”

  Ana’s lips thinned. “During our last trip, I did see an unusual number of young people in their vineyards. I was told they were all paid, though, or working off debts.”

  “They wouldn’t likely put children out there with visiting dignitaries nearby, now would they?” Sorcha said.

  The queen’s expression turned grim. “I will speak to my father at once and investigate the matter. As far as I’m aware, slavery is outlawed in all civilized kingdoms save the Ridaeron Dynasty. And they’re not part of our Compact.”