Capturing the Pirate's Heart (The Emerald Quest Book 1)

by Seaton, Annie

  “Sébastien Leclerc? The pirate?” Madeleine barely had the words out when darkness consumed her and she crumpled to the floor.

  Chapter Seven

  Were it not for the fact that the woman in his arms was unconscious, Sébastien would have found the soft curves of her body appealing. The stiff black fabric of her mourning gown had hidden the shapely curves which had pressed against him as she’d slid down the front of his body and he’d caught her just before she’d hit the luxurious wool carpet which covered the hard wood of his cabin floor. Now, he reached down and placing one arm below her knees and another beneath her shoulders, he lifted the young woman. A glorious swathe of auburn curls hung over his forearm as he walked across to his bed. He laid her down, letting her slippers drop to the floor with a soft thud.

  What the name of God was he to do now? Sébastien stifled a groan of frustration as he pondered his predicament.

  He had an unmarried woman in his cabin. An unmarried woman from a wealthy family. A young woman who was believed to have drowned had somehow got onto his boat. He had a little more than a week to intercept the Ann Marie, and that would be his last chance to earn enough to escape this life which he hated more with each passing day. If he turned back to the coast and went back up the Mississippi River to return her to her uncle, there would be no chance of intercepting the slave trader. As it was, they must go via Barataria Bay to reprovision the boat with food and water for the crew. For a brief moment he considered putting her off there in the care of his half-brother, but quickly dismissed that thought. Even if Jean-Luc was at the outpost, he wouldn’t trust him to keep his hands off this young woman, and that was also giving no consideration to the wild behavior he had witnessed in the isolated outpost of the colonies. It was no place for a gentlewoman of class.

  A very beautiful young woman. One, by all accounts, who was presumed to have drowned in the river. If her uncle’s violent reaction to the cabin boy was any indication of his usual temperament, Sébastien could understand why she might have been trying to escape him.

  So, as well as having a beautiful woman on board a vessel which he could not turn back, he did not have the luxury of time to divert from the planned route. On top of that, he had to consider her safety among a lusty crew who had barely seen a woman for months. Three new crewmen, plus young Jake, were on board the Maiden for this voyage. He knew he could trust his usual crew to show her due respect, but the new crewmen who they had picked up at Barataria Bay were unknown to him. He’d sensed a sly demeanor and a look of rat cunning about one of the new men as they’d sailed up the river. And the first mate had told him that it had been Dirk, who had been overseeing the rigging that had fouled.

  Untrustworthy and slack.

  If he’d had the time before their hurried departure he would probably have put him off the vessel. Sébastien’s instincts when it came to a trustworthy man—or woman—had never let him down in all his years at sea.

  He groaned. There were also the African slaves to consider. He could not let a gentlewoman wander at will on his vessel.

  He dropped to the bed and leaned forward with his head in his hands. Taking over a slave trader’s vessel would be fraught with danger and his ship was no place to have a woman.

  Unbidden, Lisette’s face filled his mind, and he tried to push it away. He needed no more pressure on his decision making. If she had heeded her father’s wishes and not followed him to the quay on San Domingo, she would still be alive. Perhaps they had been too young, and that had contributed to the poor decisions he had made, but nevertheless, she was gone.

  And I will not have the death of another young woman on my conscience. Another young woman who has been spoiled and is used to getting her own way. It was clear she had given no thought to leaving her uncle and the mortal danger which could await her in a town such as New Orleans.

  “Are you all right, Captain?” A tentative hand brushed against his forearm and was pulled back quickly as he turned his head toward her.

  He stared at her. This young woman had fainted. She was lying on the bed of a man who she believed to be a cutthroat pirate—he’d heard the stories—and the said pirate was sitting beside her in a state of undress.

  And she asks me in that soft gentle voice if I am all right?

  Sebastian pushed himself to his feet and pulled on his shirt. He turned to her. She lay on his bed and a little color had returned to her cheeks. A dark green gaze held his and her eyes were wide. She opened her lips and a shaft of desire shot straight to his groin when the tip of her tongue came out and touched on her bottom lip.

  “Are you thirsty?” He knew his voice was gruff because he was angry at the reaction of his body to this helpless female.

  But perhaps not so helpless. Is she manipulating me?

  She shook her head and tried to sit up but fell back onto the pillow with her hand to her head. “The room is moving.”

  “Yes.” He stared at her. “The cabin is moving but I suspect it has more to do with us being in the ocean swell, rather than the faint you had. And I expect it will get worse as the day progresses. The wind is rising.

  “Can you…can you…?

  Before she finished she pushed herself up on her hands and slid back to the feather pillows, and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. “Can you please take me back to New Orleans?” Her voice strengthened as she held his gaze. “I will make it worth your while.”

  Sébastien quirked an eyebrow. “And how will you do that, Madame? From what I see, you have the clothes you are wearing and a pair of slippers. Unless you have a bag of gold secreted in the alcove over there?”

  “If you will turn your boat around and take me back, I shall be able to pay you when I…when I… in a few days.” She set her chin straight and crossed her arms across the front of that hideous black dress.

  “Why are you in mourning?” He ignored her request and the rather strange statement of being able to repay him in a few days. Perhaps she intended to sell her body in the taverns of New Orleans?

  Over my dead body. Innocent eyes held his, and he was interested to hear what a young woman of breeding, in a mourning dress, was doing in a place as dangerous as New Orleans.

  He stared down at her, keeping his face free from expression. “Shall we start at the beginning?”

  Her pure beauty struck him afresh as she gazed back at him. Her perfect small white teeth worried at her lower lip and her emerald-green eyes were wide. Her heart-shaped face was surrounded by waves of auburn hair which rippled down her shoulders, falling almost to her waist. But her expression was steadfast and full of determination, and she held his eye unwaveringly. This young woman appeared to have a will of steel and he wondered what she was doing here.

  I do not want her to be here.

  She took a deep breath. “I cannot tell you everything because I do not know you well enough.”

  And she cannot trust me. Sébastien heard the unspoken intimation. She dropped her gaze for a moment before lifting her head and holding his eyes with hers again. “By all accounts, you sir, are a pirate and it would not be wise to tell you of my financial situation. It may put me at risk and I may not live to finish my quest.”

  Her quest? A strange term for a young woman to use. Sébastien dropped onto the bed and braced himself with his palms flat on the coverlet on either side of her. “So Madame, may I assume you have been in the less savory establishments of New Orleans? Where else would you hear such scurrilous gossip about me?”

  The girl straightened and the bodice of her black dress strained over her high breasts. He dropped his gaze. For a young woman, she was well endowed but still she seemed unaware of her sensuality.

  “Nay, sir. I have not set foot in establishments of any sort.” The color ran into her cheeks and he realized he was still staring at her chest, and that she was well aware of the direction of his gaze.

  Sébastien cleared his throat and looked away to the wall above her head. He feigned a yawn to show his
disinterest in her physical attributes. “Then perhaps you could begin by telling me your name and why you felt the need to hide yourself in my cabin. It appears to have been a matter of some urgency?”

  She folded her arms and he avoided looking down at her breasts. “I was not hiding in your cabin. I was running away from my Uncle Titus.”

  “Why? Was he cruel to you?” Or God forbid, worse than that.

  She shook her head. “No. Not by his hand, but I do not agree with his actions over the past six months, so you could perhaps call that cruelty.”

  Sébastien stood and walked to the side of the cabin to lean on the side of the hull, his hands laced behind his back and his head bowed. Her words echoed those of Lisette ten years ago.

  Lisette had bowed her pretty blond head while she had told him of the cruelty of her father in not bowing to her will when he refused to approve their marriage. He would not let her have her own way and she too had rebelled. But her father had been right and if they had not been so young and foolish, they would have heeded his words, and Lisette would still be alive.

  Perhaps they may have married, perhaps not. They had been far too young to make a decision about their future. Lisette had been naïve, and he had been a cocky and randy young man. A pretty face and a soft body had tempted him and she had died because of him.

  Sébastien didn’t think of Lisette often now and that realization brought a rush of fresh guilt to his chest. He had loved her in his own way, but it had been an immature love which would surely have blown itself out like a storm at sea. He now had the opportunity to assuage that guilt. This young woman, who looked across at him, her eyes beseeching him, would be kept safe from harm by the lessons Sébastien had learned in the past.

  “So, Madame, can you at least tell me your name?”

  “I am Madeleine Bellerose of Bellerose Hall in Derbyshire in England.”

  Yes, wealthy and spoiled, just like Lisette.

  “And why are you are travelling with your uncle on a ramshackle old British frigate?”

  Madeleine relaxed her shoulders and let out a soft sigh. “My uncle is a member of some anti-slavery or missionary society, or some such, and we are travelling to the West Indies. We had free passage because he took the position of chaplain on the frigate.”

  “Yet, I am none the wiser as to why you are with him?” Sébastien’s resolve was firming. Even if he had witnessed her uncle beating the young cabin boy, it was understandable. This young woman had been in the man’s care and he thought he had lost her. Sébastien could fully understand, and sympathized with the man’s predicament.

  “My family was killed in a carriage accident. My father, my mother, and my only brother are gone. Uncle Titus took over the family estate and dismissed the staff and made me accompany him to the West Indies.”

  “I cannot see what is wrong with that and why you felt you must escape. Surely someone must take care of you?”

  Madeleine slipped her bare feet over the side of the bed and stood straight, her hands placed on her hips, as if to emphasize her words. “Why? I am quite capable of taking care of myself and running the family estate. You think because I am a woman, I cannot do that?” Twin spots of color rose on her cheeks and her voice rose higher. “And he has had the temerity to organize a marriage for me! I had to escape.” She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand over her nose and Sébastien smothered a grin. A mannerism he would not have expected from a lady, more from a young child. Sympathy tugged at him and he pushed it away. Her presence on his vessel was problematic for him and he would not be taken in by her feminine wiles.

  “If Uncle Titus wanted to travel to some godforsaken part of the world and minister to heathens and save slaves, he did not have to drag me along. I am more than capable of looking after myself.”

  Sébastien’s interest was piqued. Save slaves?

  He wondered where they had been heading and whether they were aware of the dangers of such a pastime. It was time to teach this young woman that she was too young to know it all…and she was a woman, which to his way of thinking automatically rendered her less capable than a man in most pursuits.

  Casually, he sauntered over to her and stood so close that she had to tip her head back to see his face. As she had told him, she believed she was capable and she showed him no fear as she held his gaze steadily. However on closer scrutiny, the color in her cheeks deepened and her bottom lip quivered slightly as she waited for him to speak.

  “Hmm.” Sébastien reached out to her and clasped his hands together around her tiny waist. Perhaps she was laced into that dress; maybe that had contributed to her faint?

  “So you are able to look after yourself? You are so capable you have no fear of coming aboard a pirate’s vessel and being alone in the cabin of a notorious pirate such as I?” Sébastien lowered his face to hers until he could feel the warmth of her quick breath fanning his lips. It was time for her to see what foolish behavior could lead to. She needed to be taught a lesson and he was prepared to take her in hand.

  “You have caused me quite a significant problem, and I must think of a way for you to repay me. Without going back to New Orleans so you could do whatever it was you had planned. Whatever your quest was.”

  A rustle of stiff fabric preceded the warmth of her body pressing into his and he lifted his head slightly, surprised by her acquiescence. She pushed her body against his and lifted her hands to his chest. Perhaps he was mistaken?

  Perhaps she is not the innocent I had taken her for?

  As he gazed down at her, his fingers on her slight shoulders, holding her close to him, her soft breasts pushed against his chest and a lazy swirl of desire kicked into his groin. Slowly he lowered his head and spread his hands across her back to hold her even closer. Her breath quickened, and her emerald eyes widened as her lips opened beneath his. He dipped his head down slowly, intending to briefly taste the sweetness promised by them. Just one lesson to begin with; he would not frighten her too much.

  He felt her soft lips move to a smile beneath his in the second before her teeth fastened onto his bottom lip. She bit his lip with her pretty little teeth and pulled away from his hold.

  Then a loud shriek escaped her lips as she stamped on his bare foot. “Take that, you…you, pirate! And don’t you ever put your hands on me again, or I’ll…or I’ll…”

  “Or you’ll what, you little hoyden?”

  Sébastien shoved her away none too gently, and she fell back onto the bed as he crossed the room to the pitcher of water, his hand pressed against his bleeding mouth.

  ***

  Madeleine’s heart was beating so fast, for a moment she thought she would faint again. She lay back on the bed and watched with a small measure of satisfaction as the pirate dabbed at his lip with a piece of damp cloth and she tried to calm herself. If he thought she was his for the taking, he was in for quite a surprise. Her breath was still coming in quick pants and she closed her mouth to focus on her breathing, waiting for him to come back over to the bed. She would fight him to the death.

  What would he do? Dreading his touch, but in a strange way anticipating the feel of his hands on her again.

  What is going to happen to me? She’d been brave enough when she had been sure of her ability to find her way through the streets of New Orleans and avoid being found by her uncle but now, she was in a much worse position than trying to find some lodgings in a strange town. She’d hoped to remain anonymous before she went looking for Aunt Josephine’s house. Now, not only was she a captive, if the pirate was speaking the truth, they were out in the ocean and the vessel was leaving New Orleans farther behind with each wave it ploughed through.

  Madeleine rolled over and pushed herself to her feet before he could touch her again. She regarded him steadily as he walked toward her.

  He returned her gaze, but strangely Madeleine felt no fear. For all his words and threats—and his actions—she sensed that he would not go through with them.

  Unless I am bein
g naive and it is only wishful thinking. Perhaps it was self-preservation that had dispatched her fear? Crossing the cabin toward him, she spoke slowly and clearly to convey her calm.

  “Tell me what you shall do with me.” A memory of the horror stories that Jake had told her of pirates making their captives walk the plank, or abandoning helpless souls on desert islands flitted though her thoughts.

  The man she now knew as Sébastien Leclerc, the pirate, ran a hand through his hair. Madeleine was used to seeing men in powdered wigs with their hair rolled back from their foreheads. She examined him as he let out an exasperated sigh. His hair, as black as a raven’s wing, was pulled back into a piece of leather and his skin was deeply tanned. His eyes were a dark brown and ringed by long, dark lashes. She looked at the loose, white shirt which was still unbuttoned to his waist, and allowed her a glimpse of smooth skin on his chest which was as tanned as his face and neck. Her gaze dropped lower and still he didn’t speak. A dark pair of close fitting trousers molded the muscles of his long legs and a rush of warmth filled her belly as she lifted her eyes back to his face.

  His expression turned to one of amusement as he noticed her close examination. The warmth that had coiled in her belly now ran up her neck and onto her cheeks, as the gentle quivers in her private parts reminded her of the unfamiliar feelings she had experienced when she had read Aunt Josephine’s diary.

  Oh no. She would not let these strange feelings take her mind off her quest. Madeleine put her hand to her mouth. Her desire to evade Uncle Titus and now the worry of being on a pirate’s vessel and leaving New Orleans were uppermost in her mind, and would stay that way. She must figure out a way to get back to the New Orleans in order to find the heirloom and, more importantly, restore Bellerose for the friends she had left behind in England.

  Frustration filled her and she dropped her chin to her chest. Determined she may be, but how she would achieve that was now out of her hands.

  And in the hands of a pirate.