The Devil's Heart

by Candace Osmond

  “Aye, Lassie,” he nudged my arm, “yer bunkin’ with me, right?”

  I smiled and nodded awkwardly, but I caught the look on Henry’s face before he turned back to the innkeeper. It wasn’t a happy one.

  “We’ll retire to our rooms and get cleaned up,” he told the man. “What time shall we expect supper? Or did we miss it?”

  The old man looked startled. “Oh, dear,” he replied. “Please, I beg your forgiveness, Sir. But our cook is ill. We’ve no one to man the kitchen this evening. But he should be back in the morning, for breakfast. I’ll see to it.”

  A mutter of curse words made its way through the crew as they dragged their feet toward the staircase. Finn peeked at me from the corner of his eye and flashed a wicked grin across his bearded face.

  “Finn, no–”

  “Aye, there be no missin’ a meal t’night,” he bellowed. “We have a fine cook right here.” He grabbed me by the shoulder and crushed me tight to his side. “Dianna will be happy to man yer kitchen.”

  All eyes were on me and no one said a word. The innkeeper looked hesitant but clearly saw no way around the offer.

  “I mean, if you’ll let me,” I added.

  ***

  I stood in a decent sized kitchen with all the supplies and ingredients I needed to make a delicious meal. But it was getting late and the crew would no doubt be sniffing around soon. But what could I make in an ancient kitchen that wouldn’t take forever and a day? At the restaurant back home, one of the easiest, most filling, and tastiest dishes was always pasta. My go-to. But I couldn’t…

  I took stock of my ingredients once more. “Flour, water, salt, eggs, tomatoes, milk…” I could make a pasta dish. They’d probably have no clue what it was, but one bite and they wouldn’t care. I rolled up my fluffy sleeves and got to work. While my giant mound of homemade pasta dough sat for thirty minutes, I began preparing my sauce. Before long, I’d whipped together the biggest pot of pasta and rose sauce I’d ever made. And, no doubt, it’d be gone in the blink of an eye with the crew I had to feed.

  Hopefully.

  I suddenly worried that they wouldn’t like it. Maybe they were used to their meat and potatoes and disgusting gruel. In the midst of my little internal breakdown, the old innkeeper entered the kitchen.

  “Good Lord,” he said and let out a whistle while adjusting his spectacles, “My kitchen has never held such glorious smells. What on Earth are you cooking, dearie?”

  My cheeks flushed with color. “It’s a little something from…” I paused thoughtfully, “Italy. Would you care to try some?” I handed him a small bowl.

  I watched with anticipation as he removed his tiny glasses and examined the foreign food with curiosity, dug his fork in, then stuffed a scoop in his mouth. His head tilted back, and a delighted moan escaped his lips. “Well, this is just delightful. Where did you learn of such a creation?”

  “I’m a professional cook,” I told him. “Back where I came from.”

  His brow furrowed. “Then how in God’s name did you end up on a privateer ship cooking for the likes of those boys?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a long story.” But then I caught a particular word he said. “Wait, did you say privateer?”

  The innkeeper appeared puzzled. “Yes, the ship you sailed in on. Your crew. I’ve had them here before. They’re privateers. You don’t know the men you work for?”

  I tried my best to hide the surprise I felt. “Oh, yeah, of course.” Then turned and busied myself with a bit of clean up. “I forgot. I’m new. Just started yesterday, really.” It wasn’t a bold-faced lie.

  The man threw another couple of bites in his mouth before handing me his bowl. “Well, you’d better get this served, dearie. I hear them comin’ down the stairs.”

  After he was gone, I scrambled around to gather a stack of bowls and headed out to the dining area. It was basically cafeteria-style tables, long and narrow, built of wood and positioned in two rows. The crew of The Devil’s Heart all sat patiently awaiting their meal. They lit up like kids on Christmas when they saw me. My eyes searched for Captain Barrett, but he was nowhere to be found.

  “Aye, lassie,” Finn greeted, “What have ye got fer us? It smells like nothin’ I ever smelled before.”

  I finished handing out the bowls and gave him a playful smile. “You’ll just have to wait and see. It’s a surprise, a special dish from… Europe.”

  I listened to their whispers of curiosity as I made my way back to the kitchen to grab the giant pot of pasta. When I returned, my heart nearly stopped when I found Henry, suddenly appearing at the table next to Finn and Gus. He managed a quick look but averted his eyes to the bowl in front of him. I started with their table, I wasn’t sure, but I assumed the higher ranks should eat first.

  Surprisingly, Gus was the first to comment. He peered into his bowl and then looked up at me, begrudgingly. “What the Christ is this?”

  With an exaggerated eye roll, I replied, “Just eat it. You can thank me afterward.”

  The men erupted with a loud roar of laughter and it was all I could do to hide the grin as I continued to serve them. When the last bowl was filled, I headed back toward the kitchen, still more than enough pasta left for seconds, even thirds, when Henry grabbed my arm.

  “Fix yourself a bowl and come sit with us, won’t you?”

  My pulse quickened. “Uh, sure,” I replied.

  Our eyes met, his obsidian gaze locking on mine and, for just a second, I was frozen. When he released my arm, my body thawed, and I scampered off to the kitchen. After I caught my breath again, I searched around for a mirror. Settling on the underside of a silver serving tray, I attempted to make myself more presentable. I untied my hair and let the mess of black curls fall around my shoulders. Then, with a quick splash of water on my face, I toweled off and headed back out with my bowl of pasta in hand.

  It gave me an unexpected sense of pride when I found the crew filling their faces, hardly allowing a breath between bites. When I came into the room, a few of them stopped long enough to look up and give me an approving grin. They let out a resounding “aye!” and I felt my cheeks fill with color. Finn was right, I could win them over with food.

  I took my seat next to my friend, across from Gus and the captain. “Do you guys like it?”

  Finn stopped shoveling the pasta in his mouth and threw his arm over my shoulders, embracing me in another rough squeeze. His big red beard held remnants of sauce as he spoke. “It may look like a pile of guts, but ‘tis the best damn thing I ever tasted.”

  Just then, the innkeeper came out with a rolling cart full of handled mugs and two large pitchers. “You boys must be thirsty,” he said loudly, and the crew erupted in yet another resounding “aye!”

  As the old man began pouring the mugs and handing them around, I realized the drink was ale, and the crew were downing it like water. Soon, they began to sing a tune I had never heard before, but the melody seemed familiar. Like most old Newfoundland songs. The innkeeper pulled out a fiddle from thin air and joined in on the fun. I just sat quietly and ate my spaghetti, very aware of Henry’s eyes on me.

  I wanted him to trust me. I wanted us to be able to speak freely. But there seemed to be this strange hostility between us. Perhaps it stemmed from the unexpected attraction I knew we felt for one another. I couldn’t imagine the torment he must feel, admitting his attraction to a woman who resembles a monster from his past. And me… well, I didn’t want to give in to my body’s urges, I couldn’t possibly get involved with a three-hundred-year-old pirate when my mission was to eventually go back home.

  No need to complicate my situation even more.

  But I was weak. And my newly-found knowledge that The Devil’s Heart wasn’t a ruthless pirate ship, but a privateer vessel, put Henry and the crew in a whole new light for me. I didn’t know a ton about it, but I did know that privateers were secretly hired by government and military or something, to carry out acts of warfare. They weren’t out there to raid
the seas, they were meant to help lay the law and keep the peace. If it were true, then Henry and his crew were not bad people after all. I stole a quick glance up from my food toward Captain Barrett and the second our eyes met, his flitted away.

  “So, Dianna,” Gus spoke, and the three of us perked our heads up. “Where is it you said you came from?”

  “The mainland,” I told him for the second time.

  “Whereabouts, exactly?” he continued to press.

  “Here and there.” I put some food in my mouth in an attempt to stifle the conversation.

  “And what were you doing here in Newfoundland, then?” he added curiously. “On Crown land.”

  I’d forgotten that Newfoundland was part of England’s rule until the mid-1900s. Technically, I wasn’t even in Canada at that moment. “My mother was from England, she migrated here and married my father before I was born. So, I often come back to visit family.” That’s about as vague as I could get.

  “What did you say your maiden name was?” Gus insisted. But my stomach clenched at the question because that was one I could never reveal. See, my mother kept her name after the marriage, and I took it when I was born. My father was a Sheppard. But Mom was a Cobham… and so was I.

  So, instead, I shot him a cheeky grin. “I didn’t.”

  Finn had enough of the interrogation and slammed his hand down on the table. “That be enough glabberin’ yer mouths.” He downed a swig of ale, “Let us drink!”

  After an hour or so, the crew had consumed more ale and pasta than I thought humanly possible. Some locals had filed in, something they probably did on a regular basis since the tavern appeared to double as the local bar, too. I sat back and sipped on a single mug of beer, my stomach happy to be full of delicious food, and I watched the crew with a newly-found affection. They were a cheerful bunch, and I never noticed how young some of them were. A couple were no more than mere boys, breaking the boundary of pubescence. I caught Finn over in a corner, his arm draped over another man’s shoulders, a local man, and the two appeared to be engaged in a private conversation.

  Music, laughter, and good, strong ale filled the tavern and for the first time since I’d washed up in this era, I’d felt a sliver of happiness. Then, Henry appeared at my side.

  “The men are fed and happy,” he pointed out and let a pause hold the space between us. I just nodded and sipped my ale as he fidgeted nervously with his hands behind his back. “Well, then. I’ll be retiring to my room for the evening.” Was he hinting for me to come with him? “Can I leave you here and trust you won’t flee?”

  My fluttering heart came to a screeching halt and I narrowed my gaze. “Really? You’re worried I’m going to run away?”

  He scowled. “Well, I–”

  “No, Captain, I’ll stay right here,” I assured him, my words holding a double meaning. “You can be sure I won’t run off in the night in a community I know nothing about, miles from home and nowhere to go. I’m not that stupid.”

  More scowling. “I never meant–”

  I hopped down from the tabletop which I sat on, patted his shoulder, and said, “Have a good night, Captain,” before heading over to the crew. I could hear his clunky boots stomping up the stairs as I sidled up next to Finn who’d broken away from his new buddy.

  “I never saw the captain get in such tizzy since the likes of ye came aboard,” he told me.

  “Really? So, he’s not always that moody?”

  “Aye, he be on the quiet side, usually,” I watched him slug back a nearly full mug of ale before continuing. “Broody and the like, but never so angry.”

  I moaned. Great, I made the mentally unstable pirate angry. My mission was going to be harder than I imagined. How could I possibly get what I wanted, to convince Henry to change his mind, without giving him what he desired? It didn’t matter that, deep down, I wanted it, too. I found myself more and more attracted to Devil Eyes, and part of me wondered if I could avoid it much longer.

  Just then, a slightly tipsy Gus came sauntering over toward us with a pitcher in hand. He topped up my mug and raised the pitcher in the air. “To Dianna!” he yelled, and I couldn’t hide the surprise on my face if I wanted to. “For we shall never be hungry so long as we have the wench.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but stopped myself. It was the closest thing to kindness he’d shown me since I showed up and, even though he was drunk, I’d take it.

  With my mug raised in the air, I shouted, “Here, here!”

  Then men all came to a halt, an awkward hum buzzing in the air around us, but they soon broke out into a cheer and the fun resumed.

  Finn tousled my hair as if I were a child. “Yer one of us now, lassie.”

  Just days ago, that thought would have worried me. That the crew would take me on as one of their own, with no chance of escaping. But right then, at the moment, surrounded by a bunch of merry men singing songs, a warm fire burning and endless pitchers of strong ale… I felt something I hadn’t felt since I was a child.

  I felt at home.

  The night continued for hours. I felt dizzy from being passed around as a dance partner, song after song. My legs were like jelly and a sticky sweat stuck to my skin. I lost count of how many mugs of beer I drank, but I knew it was nowhere near that of what Finn and Gus consumed. We drank, we sang, and we danced until we could no more. Eventually, the locals went home, and members of our crew had retreated to their rooms. I climbed the large, creaky wooden staircase to the room Finn and I shared, eager to crash before I got sick. I fiddled with the old iron handle and pushed the heavy door open, but was startled to find a large, naked Scotsman passed out in our bed with his long arm cradling a local man.

  Crap. Guess I wouldn’t be sleeping there tonight. I gently closed the door, careful not to wake them, and snuck back downstairs. There was a nice seated bench in the bay window of the lobby, and I curled up there for the night. My head spun once I laid down but, before long, I’d passed out.

  My boozy brain slept and wandered dreams of vivid colors. But it didn’t take long for it to settle on a fantasy of Henry. He laid my naked body down on a sandy beach as the warm sun shined down on us. He smiled and hovered above me, his gorgeous blonde hair blowing in the ocean breeze.

  I ran my hands down his broad and chiseled body, but the sensation of touch wasn’t there. It was like my hand went right through him.

  “Henry,” I whispered through a slight moan.

  “Shhh,” he replied, but his mouth never moved. As if the sound was coming from somewhere else. “Dianna…”

  My sluggish brain fought to find the sound. I swam to the surface of my conscience, and my eyes opened to find the dark lobby of the tavern. Two hands slid under my body and my heart sprang to life when I realized who it was.

  “Henry,” I breathed.

  His mouth pressed to my ear and goosebumps scoured my body. “I told you not to call me that.” He continued to hoist my body into his shirtless arms. “What are you doing down here? Let me bring you to your bed.”

  I shook my heavy head. “Can’t. Finn has company.”

  He stopped, seemingly unsure of what to do. “Oh, very well, then.”

  I didn’t want him to put me down, I didn’t want him to go. My body took on a mind of its own and I reached up to touch his face, pulling it toward me. He hesitated, slightly, but I knew he’d give in. His mouth came within a hair of mine and hovered around the outside of it, our noses caressed, and a deep guttural growl erupted from his body. Henry’s arms tightened their grip around me and he fled upstairs to his room.

  It was similar to the one I meant to share with Finn; quaint, dimly lit by candlelight, and held a bed covered in patchwork quilts. The pirate set me down and turned to close the door where he remained, hesitating to turn around. I didn’t want him to think about it too much, I just wanted us to give in to the attraction we felt for one another, just for one night. No one had to know, and we could forget about it in the morning when the sun came up a
nd the veil of moonlight and strong ale lifted.

  I watched as his naked back moved with deep breaths and I stepped closer, running my trembling hand over its smooth skin. My very touch made his body stiffen and he stood straight before turning to meet me. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to his sheer size, almost a foot taller than my own five and a half feet, and his wide shoulders that could wrap themselves around my body and make me disappear.

  Henry watched me with blazing intensity, his black eyes unblinking, as I removed my clothes and let them pool around my feet. His breathing quickened, and he grabbed my neck, bringing our faces together where our lips danced but never touched. My body shook as Henry’s warm mouth trailed across my jaw and down my neck, and I thought I’d lose my damn mind if he didn’t take me then and there.

  I failed to stifle a moan, but my mind spun from his touch. “Henry...”

  The sound of his name deepened the intensity and he grabbed my legs, fingers digging in, the pain sending shocks of pleasure through my center. The pirate lifted me up and my limbs wrapped around his waist like a snake forcing the life from its prey. His fingers twisted in my hair and then gave a little tug, so my head swung back, and our faces met.

  “I told you not to speak that name, Dianna.” There was a hint of playfulness in his words, and he spoke my name with a deep, raspy purr. “When will you listen?”

  I pressed my forehead to his and grinned. “Make me, Henry.”

  The beast of a man walked over to the bed with me still wrapped around his waist and laid us down. His fingers still entwined in my black curls, he tugged on them once more and finally brought his mouth to mine in a kiss so passionate and intense it caused me pain.

  He broke away for a moment, leaving me gasping for air, only to whisper in my ear, “Gladly.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Iawoke the next day, the blaring morning sun hot on my face, and the events of the night before came flooding back to me. Henry laid next to me, far away in a deep sleep. I paused for a moment to admire the softness in his dreaming face, how the wear and tear of piracy washed away and all that remained was a sweet and handsome man. I wanted to reach out and caress his jawline, to press my lips to it. But I slipped out of his bed like a ninja and gathered up my things before I snuck out the door.