Pirate's Promise

by Smith, Bobbi

  Pirate’s Promise

  Bobbi Smith

  Copyright © 1988, 2019 by Bobbi Smith. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of The Evan Marshall Agency, 1 Pacio Court, Roseland, NJ 07068-1121, evan@evanmarshallagency.com.

  Version 1.0

  Published by The Evan Marshall Agency. Originally published by Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc., New York, and Montlake Publishing, Las Vegas.

  This work is a novel. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidentally.

  Cover by The Killion Group

  bobbismithbooks.com

  This book is dedicated to the real Lianne—Leann Shoaf. I hope the real Adam finds you soon!

  Thanks, too, to Cindy Swanson and to SS who keeps telling me that romance and love are NOT logical!

  A special note of thanks for their help to Dr. Alberto Soto, M.D., and Cathy Perrine, C.R.N.A. (and to Betty Kolb for her loving, unfailing support through the years).

  TO STRUGGLE OR SUCCUMB

  "Sell my home back to me," Lianne demanded of Adam.

  "I can't do that," he replied.

  "Can't or won't?" Lianne demanded angrily.

  Tenderness filled the cynical captain. "Lianne . . ." His tone was gently and coaxing, and it went over her like a velvet caress.

  Lianne stared at him in confusion. She wanted to deny the breathlessness that threatened. She hated him! How could she feel this way about him when she despised him completely?

  Dazedly, the raven-haired beauty wondered how it would feel to rest her head against the broad width of his shoulder, to feel his arms protectively around her instead of threateningly.

  "Lianne, let me help," Adam whispered huskily as he reached out and wiped a tear from the soft curve of her cheek.

  The searing heat of his touch burned its way to the very center of Lianne's resistance.

  "No . . ." she murmured in protest. She knew she should move away and break the contact. But she was helpless to deny herself a moment of affection, a moment with someone who cared about her . . .

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Prologue

  Gulf of Mexico—1849

  "Captain Shark!" Lewis Grimes, a mate on the fleet ship Banshee, pounded on the door to his captain's cabin unmindful of the earliness of the hour.

  The man known only as Shark to his crew awoke with a fierce growl. Angered at being wakened, he cursed Grimes loudly as he roused himself from the comfort of his bunk. In an impatient fury, he pulled on his clothes then threw wide the door to his quarters.

  "What the hell is it?" Shark snarled. His overlong dark hair was wild about his face, and his black eyes were afire with the power of his wrath. He was a big man of hulking proportions, and he towered threateningly over the hapless seaman who'd dared to disturb him.

  Shark was known as the "Scourge of the Sea" and with good reason, the cowering Grimes thought as he stared up at him. It was rumored that when Shark raided he never left a victim alive, and at this moment he found that easy to believe. As far as he was concerned, his captain looked much like Satan incarnate, and Grimes knew he had a disposition to match. He had seen him lose his temper with some crew members earlier in the voyage, and he had no desire to anger him further. He swallowed nervously several times and finally managed to croak out an answer.

  "It's a ship, sir! Mr. Johnson spotted one off the port bow!"

  "A ship?" Shark scowled even more blackly at the news as a sudden sense of urgency possessed him. With the illegal cargo he was carrying, the last thing he needed was a run-in with authorities. His irritation at being awoken forgotten, he rushed from his cabin.

  When Shark pushed past him and disappeared down the companionway, Grimes collapsed weakly against the wall. Relief flooded through him at having been spared a taste of his captain's viciousness. Pulling himself together, he drew a shaky breath and quickly hurried after him.

  Shark emerged on deck and was immediately joined by his first mate, Will Johnson. Will was a dark-haired mountain of a man whose stern control and harshly-meted-out disciplines were second only to his captain's.

  "What d'ya got, Will?" he demanded brusquely.

  Will pointed out to sea over the port bow where the billowing white sails of another vessel were visible on the horizon. "Looks to be headed this way."

  Shark roughly snatched the spyglass Will had been carrying and focused on the ship in the distance. He was tense as he studied the other boat, and only after long minutes of consideration did he relax again. It was not the law, but a slow, lumbering merchantman. His own contraband cargo was safe.

  "Hold steady on course, Will. I think it's time we had a little fun on this voyage," Shark ordered, not about to let such prime pickings get away. His expression, once so grim, lightened.

  Will had thought that his captain would want to avoid the other ship, and he was puzzled by the order. "You don't mean to—"

  "Are you questioning me?" Shark's tone was as cold and deadly as the obsidian gaze he turned upon his first mate and longtime comrade.

  Though Will stared at him in disbelief, the implied threat in his words effectively silenced his objections. He knew it would be a lethal mistake to cross him. "No, Captain," he finally replied with just the right amount of deference.

  "Good." Shark's smile was feral as he glanced back toward the unsuspecting, oncoming frigate. It had been quite some time since they'd had the opportunity to raid a ship, and the thought of it sent excitement charging through him.

  "I was only concerned about our cargo," Will offered in the way of an excuse, his thoughts centered on the hundreds of blacks chained together in the dark confines of the Banshee's hold. Surely, the slaves they were smuggling into Louisiana were worth far more than any treasure they could steal from this merchant vessel.

  "No need." Shark dismissed his concern. "We're going to strike so quickly and so unexpectedly that there'll be no danger to us, only profit."

  He nodded, silently deferring to his captain's wishes, and then moved off to give new instructions to the helmsman.

  Aboard the Crescent Line's main merchantman, the Windwood, Captain Adam Trent strode the quarterdeck with his fiancée, Elise Clayton, enjoying the bright freshness of the new day. A tall man, with lean, chiseled features and dark hair and eyes, Adam had an air ab
out him of a man used to command.

  This morning, however, Adam had willingly turned his duties over to his first mate, Beau Hamilton. Since they'd departed Houston several days before, he'd been far too busy to spend much time with Elise, so today he wanted to rectify that. They lingered at the rail now, his arm about her waist in as intimate an embrace as he could manage there in the open before the crew.

  Adam gazed down at his fiancée, his brown eyes warm upon her. She was petite, gloriously blond, svelte of figure and sweet-tempered, and he felt certain that Elise was the woman for him. They had met at a ball in Houston a little over a month ago, and it had been love at first sight for the both of them.

  Adam had had no plans to marry when he'd sailed into that Texas town. He'd always enjoyed his freedom and had lived the life of a bachelor to the hilt. He had quite a reputation as a ladies' man, and he'd earned it. Strangely enough, though, he'd found himself proposing to Elise soon after they'd met.

  Now they were making the return voyage to his home in Charleston accompanied by Elise's maiden Aunt Odile as chaperone. Elise would meet his sister, Becky, there, and then they would be married. Adam was surprised to discover that he was actually looking forward to settling down with Elise. He was in love for the first time in his life, and he liked it.

  "I have something here for you . . ." Adam told Elise as he reached into his pocket to draw out a small black jewelry box.

  "You do?" She stared at the box as he held it out to her and then up at Adam, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "What is it, Adam?" she asked with all the open delight of a guileless child.

  "Open it and see," he teased, giving nothing away. "I hope you like it. I had it made just for you . . . for us . . ."

  Elise eagerly opened the box and found two golden, crescent-shaped medallions on fine gold chains within.

  "Oh, Adam, they're beautiful." She raised glowing eyes to his as she reverently lifted one of the medallions from the box.

  "I had one made for each of us," he told her earnestly. "If I hadn't come to Houston on Crescent business, we would never have met."

  Elise held one necklace out to him. "Put mine on for me, please . . ."

  When he took the chain, she presented her back to him, lifting the heavy mane of her golden hair so he could fasten it behind her neck for her. The warmth of his fingers at the nape of her neck sent a tingle of excitement through her as he secured the necklace.

  "Thank you, Adam. I love it, and I promise you that I'll wear it always," she vowed as she turned back to him.

  Elise longed to throw her arms about his neck and kiss him, but held herself in restraint. Now was not the time. Later, when they were alone, she would thank him most properly.

  Motioning for him to turn around, she took his matching chain from the box. "Now, I'll do yours for you . . ."

  Adam waited patiently as she fastened the clasp at the back of his neck. When he faced her again, she lifted the medallion and slipped it inside his shirt.

  "I want you to keep it close to your heart, for that's where I always want to be," she told him, her face aglow with the joy of their love.

  Their gazes met and locked. Desire smoldered deep within them, but they knew they would have to wait. Their entire future lay ahead of them, and, at that moment, it appeared very bright indeed. Taking Elise's hand in his own, Adam lifted it gently to his lips and pressed a tender kiss upon it. Elise's eyes never left his as she shivered with delight. They turned back to the rail then, Adam once again drawing her to his side.

  Adam turned his attention out to sea to try to distract himself from his growing passion. It was then that he spotted the unidentified clipper, heading full-sail directly toward them. A sudden feeling of gut-wrenching dread filled him. Gone were all thoughts of love and their future happiness. There was something very sinister about the speed with which the other vessel was traveling toward them, and the multitude of heavy cannon he could see protruding from both sides of the deck, glinting harshly in the brilliant sunlight. Adam went still, tensing at the danger that was near and closing fast.

  "Elise . . ." Adam kept his tone level and quiet. Never taking his eyes from the menacing, approaching ship, he ordered in a voice that brooked no argument, "I want you to go below with your Aunt Odile, and I want you to stay there until I come for you."

  Chapter One

  The moment Elise was out of sight, Adam shouted to Beau, who was at the helm. The sound of Adam's call brought Beau's head up instantly. He recognized the urgency in his tone and wondered at it. Turning the wheel over to Rob, the usual helmsman, he hurried across the deck to where Adam stood.

  Tall, lean, and dashingly debonair, Beau Hamilton was the blond counterpart of his longtime friend, Adam. They had been as close as brothers since childhood and neither ever expected that to change. They believed they could accomplish anything they set their minds to, and so far they had not been proven wrong.

  Adam and Beau loved the sea, and they had sailed together since they'd gotten their first boats in their youth. When Adam's parents died and he inherited the family's firm, Crescent Shipping, he took Beau on as a partner. The rest was history. With a lot of hard work and ingenuity, they had parlayed the small shipping firm into a major, very profitable competitor. For men who were only now in their late twenties, they were doing very well, and their future prospects looked even better.

  "What is it?" Beau asked as he came to stand at Adam's side.

  "Look." Adam pointed out the oncoming clipper. "What do you make of it?"

  A sense of unease gripped Beau Hamilton. It was obvious that the other ship was making no effort to steer clear of the slower, more heavily laden Windwood. In fact, it seemed to be heading straight toward them. He lifted his glass to study the sleek vessel.

  "Strange . . ." He paused to glance at Adam. "She bears no outward markings. It's like she's keeping her identity a secret."

  "They're not keeping their guns a secret," Adam came back tersely, the feeling of impending trouble refusing to abate. "I don't like this, Beau. I don't like this at all. She's not flying any flags . . ." He broke off as the ship began to turn sharply. "Good God!" Adam watched in horror as the looming craft turned broadside and brought its guns to bear on the unsuspecting Windwood.

  "They're really going to do it!" Beau could not believe what was happening. "They're going to attack!"

  "Arm yourselves with whatever you can find, men!" Adam shouted without further hesitation. "Beau! See to our guns! I'll take the helm."

  Even as he said it, Adam and Beau both realized the futility of his order. The two small cannons they carried were of limited range and would be no match for the pirate vessel's more lethal weapons.

  It was then that Adam thought of Elise and her aunt, below and unprotected. He rushed to the helm.

  "Robby! Go below to my cabin and stay with Miss Clayton and her aunt. I have weapons in my trunk. Hopefully, we'll take care of things up here so you won't have to use them, but, should the situation arise, don't hesitate."

  "Yes, sir . . ." Robby responded nervously as he cast a quick glance back at the threatening ship.

  "I don't want anything to happen to them, Robby," Adam told him sternly.

  "I understand, sir." He disappeared down the companionway determined to do his captain's bidding.

  As Adam personally took over at the helm, his dark, troubled gaze focused on the attacking ship. A chill of doom shook him at the sight of the cannons pointing directly at the Windwood. Grimly gripping the wheel, he rapidly called out to his men, exhorting them to prepare.

  Steering hard astarboard, he struggled valiantly to bring his ship about, out of harm's way. As he felt the ship begin to respond, the fleeter clipper let loose with a lethal first volley. The accurate, deadly fire strafed the riggings and the deck and snapped the Windwood's mainmast like a twig. The huge beam splintered as it fell. It crashed to the deck killing and maiming many of the crew, trapping them beneath its weight.

  Surr
ounded by sudden death and destruction, Adam fought desperately to maintain control of his ship, but the loss of the mainmast rendered the Windwood virtually helpless. She was, for all purpose, dead in the water.

  A cold dread filled Adam as the pirates maneuvered even closer. He could see the crew of the other craft swarming about on deck, readying themselves to board their hapless prey.

  Adam caught sight of Beau and several of his men still struggling with the cannons amidst the wreckage. One gun had been damaged by the falling timber, but the other looked to be sound. Abandoning his place at the helm, he charged through the carnage to help. Though his injured and dying men called out to him, Adam knew there was no time to stop and comfort them. They would all end up dead if he didn't help Beau get a round off.

  Every second brought the pirates closer, and it was that very nearness that gave Adam and Beau hope that their small gun might actually do some damage. With Adam's added strength, they finally managed to position the cannon and, as quickly as they could, they loaded it. They got off a shot, but it was destined to be their last. The round caused some damage as it ripped across the deck of the attacking ship, but the glory of the moment was lost as the raiders snared the Windwood with their grappling hooks.

  Shark had expected their own accurate cannon fire to crush any resistance aboard the merchantman, and he was surprised and angered by the return fire. A few of his crew were killed by the unexpected return volley, and Shark was outraged by the other captain's daring. Their refusal to surrender filled him with murderous rage, and he incited his men to bloodlust, assuring them of a generous share of whatever loot was taken. Shark led his crew aboard the wrecked trading ship, scrambling over the Windwood's side with deadly intent.

  Adam was determined to protect his vessel. Yet, as he watched the invaders come, he realized it would be a hand to hand fight to the death. As the screaming horde charged aboard, there was no time to think, only time to act. He and Beau exchanged a quick look of silent understanding and then rushed to take up the weapons of their fallen comrades.

  "Let's go, men!" Adam urged his men to action. Armed with pistols and sabers, the defenders attacked the superior force, desperately trying to drive the pirates from their ship.