How To Please a Pirate (9 page)

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Authors: Mia Marlowe

Tags: #romance, #england, #historical, #pirate, #steamy

BOOK: How To Please a Pirate
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The twins faced each other and Gabriel could
almost see the silent conversation that went on between them. Then
they turned back to him, solemn as judges, and shook their heads in
unison.

“That’s Poppy and Posey,” Daisy said
helpfully. “They don’t talk much. Except to each other.”

“Well, let me see if I have you all
straight.” Gabriel pointed a finger at each girl as he ticked off
the names. “Hyacinth, Daisy, Posey and Poppy—”

“No, that’s Poppy and the other one’s Posey,”
Daisy corrected.

Gabriel squinted at the twins. They were
identical to the last eyelash. “How can you tell?”

“Poppy is the oldest, of course,” Daisy said
as if that information was stamped on their faces.

“Of course. A grave oversight on my part.”
Gabriel nodded at the twins. “I crave your pardons, ladies.”

The pair blinked at him and shot him
gap-toothed grins.

He cocked a brow at them and waggled his
finger to Daisy, motioning her forward. “And just how do you know
which is the oldest?” he said in a stage whisper.

The twins giggled.

“Poppy always stands on Posey’s left.” Daisy
cupped her hand at her little bow of a mouth and matched his
whisper. “Mrs. B says it’s how they started out and like to be how
they’ll end up.”

“And they never switch places just to fool
people?”

“Oh, they try sometimes,” Daisy admitted.
“But then they think they’re so clever, they can’t keep from
smirking a little and it gives the whole thing away.”

Gabriel added sharp eyes to Daisy’s sharp
mind in his tally of her attributes. He was already imagining his
difficulty in trying to find a man to match her when she came of
age. Most men shied away from women with too much in their
noggins.

Until he met the confounding Jacquelyn Wren,
he’d have counted himself in their number.

“They’ll probably get better at switching
places as they get older,” Daisy said. “But by then, I’ll figure
out another way to tell them apart.”

“No doubt,” Gabriel said, already lightheaded
from a vision of twin debutants. A squall on the horizon if ever
he’d seen one.

Why hadn’t his brother Rupert left at least
one son?

The smallest sister toddled over and patted
his knee with her pudgy hand. Little baby-fat dimples indented each
knuckle.

“You forgot me,” she accused.

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “You’re Lilac.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Lavender?” He pulled a face to make her
laugh.

She squealed with pleasure. “I’m not
Lavender. My name is—.”

“Wait a moment.” He snapped his fingers. “I
have it. Your name is Licorice.”

“You’re silly,” she said with a grin.

“No, I’m your Uncle Gabriel,” he said,
lifting her onto his knee. “And you’re Lily.”

Lily snuggled close, her babyish smell
wrapping an invisible hand around his heart and giving it a
squeeze. Barring Uncle Eustace, the rest of his family was gone,
but for better or worse, at least he had these girls. He needed to
let them know they had him as well.

“I’m new at this uncle business,” he
admitted.

“We noticed,” Hyacinth observed coolly.

“However much it pains you, niece, we seem to
be stuck with each other,” Gabriel said.

Hyacinth had obviously conceived an intense
dislike for him, but he was making inroads with the younger ones.
The twins rocked on their heels, grinning at him and Lily
investigated his pockets, hoping to find a sweetmeat. He made a
mental note to make sure he was better provisioned next time.

“What do you supposed an uncle might do for
his nieces to prove his good will?” he asked.

“You could be my pony,” Lily suggested. “We
could ride around the garden.”

The twins approved, hopping up and down and
clapping their hands.

“Pony rides it is, then. Up you go.” Gabriel
leaned forward so Lily could crawl onto his back and wrap her arms
around his neck.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hyacinth said. “If you
were truly concerned for us, you’d suggest riding lessons on real
ponies, at the very least.” She turned a sly expression toward
Daisy. “A proper uncle would be more interested in helping us with
our studies.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Daisy said with a nod.
“Especially as we are without a tutor at present.”

Gabriel realized later that warning bells
should have gone off in his head at this point. Hadn’t the girls’
previous tutor left shortly after he arrived under less than
pleasant circumstances?

But at the moment, Gabriel was more
interested in gaining some allies in Dragon Caern. Jacquelyn
thought the sun rose and set on these girls’ golden heads. What
better way to soften Mistress Wren’s heart than to earn his nieces’
trust?

“Quite right,” he said. “Being a naval man, I
have some expertise with mathematics and astronomy related to
navigation and such. What have you been studying?”

“We were learning about the Colonies,” Daisy
said. “More specifically about the aboriginal peoples they call
American Indians.”

“I’ve put into a few Colonial ports,” Gabriel
said. “I may be able to help you with that subject.”

“I’m sure of it.” Hyacinth bared her teeth at
him in a feline smile, then under her breath, she said. “Daisy, get
the rope.”

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

Gabriel had survived the death of a ship.
Before that, he’d acquitted himself admirably in dozens of
skirmishes in defense of King and country. And once he turned
pirate, his sword arm put the fear of his wrath into the heart of
every member of his buccaneer crew.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure
out how to defend himself against his nieces. Not without harming
them at any rate. They seemed so fragile. It was the chivalrous
chink in his armor the little vixens were counting on and they
weren’t disappointed. They swarmed over him in a tangle of arms and
legs.

Without knowing precisely how it happened, he
found himself gagged with an embroidered handkerchief and bound
tightly to the stone settee. His nieces were doing a fair imitation
of an Algonquin war dance in a circle around him. Daisy appeared
briefly in his field of vision with a leering grin and an armful of
kindling.

She disappeared beneath the settee for a few
minutes.

He wasn’t able to raise his head, but he
thought he smelled sparks from steel and flint. What a fool he was.
He’d been sure Daisy liked him.

Obviously, he didn’t understand women at all.
Even fledgling women.

“Captain, what be the meaning of this
caterwaulin’?” Meriwether’s voice boomed from the castle door.

Salvation!
And just in the nick. A
wisp of smoke drifted from under the settee.

“My lord, what devilry is afoot?” Mrs.
Beadle’s voice came next.

Gabriel tried to answer, but only managed a
few disjointed sounds. The hanky made a deucedly effective gag.

“Ach, Cap’n. Ye shouldn’t teach the children
to play with fire. Might burn the wee dears’ fingers,” Meri said as
he kicked the small blaze from under Gabe and stomped it to
embers.

Mrs. Beadle caught the two eldest by the
ears. “No, no, missies. None of your running off or it’ll be the
worse for you, I swear it,” Mrs. B scolded, her round face flushed
with exasperation. “You stay right here and take your medicine, you
little imps. Poppy and Posey, untie that gag you’ve stuffed in your
poor uncle’s mouth.”

Their nimble fingers freed his lips as
quickly as they’d bound him. Gabriel ran his tongue over his teeth
trying to get the starchy taste of the hanky out of his mouth. The
twins fumbled with the knot by his ear and finally gave up, shoving
the rope that immobilized his head toward his hairline, taking a
layer of hide from his forehead with it.

He was able to turn his head now as the twins
scrambled back to join their siblings. Mrs. Beadle had released her
captives. His nieces were standing in their deceptively sweet
semi-circle, hands folded before their bodies fig-leaf fashion,
eyes demurely downcast.

“I din’t bite him,” Lily said quickly.

“Maybe not, but it’s not nice to cook people
either. Not at all the done thing,” Mrs. Beadle said, with a shake
of her jowls.

“Aw, Mrs. B., these little mites weren’t out
to cook the Cap’n,” Meriwether said. “Appears to me this whole
thing was just a bit of high spirits what got out of hand.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot skyward, but Meri
tossed him a warning glance.

“Looks like a lesson gone awry. As a master
mariner, the Cap’n has plenty to teach his nieces about knots and
such.” His first mate leaned down to inspect one of the rope mazes
still binding Gabriel to the settee. “First rate double clove hitch
there.”

“That one’s mine,” Daisy said with becoming
modesty.

“And a right good job ye made of it,
darlin,’” Meriwether said as he pulled out a frog-sticker and
slashed Gabriel’s bindings. “Now as no blood was let, I don’t see
as there’s any call to punish the poppets. I reckon ye’re of the
same mind, aren’t ye, Cap’n?”

Gabriel sat up and rubbed his wrists, casting
a dark glance at the girls, one by one. Hyacinth arched a cynical
brow at him and looked away. Daisy gave him an apologetic shrug.
The twins blinked owlishly and edged closer to each other. Mr.
Meriwether’s excuses notwithstanding, Gabriel was about to demand
punishment for the little heathens when Lily’s chin started to
quiver.

He might as well give himself up for lost
right now and be done with it.

“No, Mrs. Beadle, Meri’s got the right of it.
We were just having a bit of fun. No harm done.” He waved the
housekeeper off. “The girls and I are fine.”

“Well, then, my lord, if ye’re certain . . .
,” Mrs. B. said, not sounding the least certain herself. She
dropped a shallow curtsey. “I’ll be off with myself then. There are
cherry pies in the oven that need tending.”

Meriwether watched her go with a look of
naked admiration on his craggy features.

“What’s this?” Gabriel demanded. “Are you
ogling my housekeeper now? I didn’t think you and Mrs. B. were
getting on so well.”

“Aye, not yet, we’re not, but she’s a widow,
ye ken. Oh, she’s strong-minded and a bit broad of beam. Not that I
ever held extra flesh against a woman,” Meriwether admitted. “But,
I’ve been smelling those pies all morning. She’s a goddess in the
kitchen, is Mrs. Beadle. A man can overlook quite a bit if there’s
cherry pie in the offing.”

Gabriel chuckled, and then turned back to his
nieces who were still standing there hanging on the exchange.

“Perhaps you’d better thank Mr. Meriwether,”
he advised them. “He’s the one who saved you from Mrs. Beadle’s
wrath. If it had been left to me . . .” Gabriel let the threat
dangle unspoken.

One by one, the girls murmured their thanks
as they eyed the old pirate with horrified fascination. Meri
ignored them, cleaning his snaggled nails with his dirk.

Even Gabe had to admit, his first mate was an
unlikely savior. With his gold tooth glinting and the honorary
tribal tattoo sagging the leathery skin of one cheek, Joseph
Meriwether must seem a fantastical creature from the ends of the
earth to his nieces. Even the intrepid Daisy was too aghast to
speak much above a whisper.

“It’s passing strange that you should be
their champion, Meri,” Gabriel said. “I would have said you weren’t
fond of children particularly.”

“Oh, I like children fine,” Meri said with a
pointed look at the girls. “Boil the pith out of ‘em for an hour or
so and they make a right tolerable stew.”

The girls’ squeals of terror as they hoisted
their skirts and ran almost made Gabriel’s near-roasting
worthwhile.

* * *

“Is he following us?” Hyacinth demanded as
she hunkered behind the stables with the twins beside her.

“No, of course not,” Daisy said, putting Lily
down to wobble on her own pudgy legs. “He was just shining us on.
I’m certain of it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Almost
certain.”

“Don’t act so superior, Daisy. You were
screaming as loudly as the rest of us,” Hyacinth accused. “That
horrible Mr. Meriwether. I can’t imagine what possessed our uncle
to bring him here. What absolute beasts! Both of them.”

“Still, he did keep us from a whipping,”
Daisy said. “And Uncle Gabriel, too. He didn’t have to let us go so
easily, you know.”

“Have you forgotten the way he was bedeviling
Miss Jacquelyn?” Hyacinth said with a sniff. “If we don’t do
something, he’ll be after her again.”

“I’m not sure that isn’t what she wants,”
Daisy argued. “Besides, she can fend for herself. I think I like
Uncle Gabriel.”

“I like Unca Gabrul, too,” Lily chimed
in.

The twins nodded.

“But not that other. He a bad man,” Lily
pronounced. “He eat children.”

“Mr. Meriwether eats children just as much as
we intended to truly roast our uncle. He was only trying to scare
us, booby,” Daisy said, obviously feeling much braver now that
Meriwether wasn’t actually close by. “Don’t you worry, though.
We’ll get even with him.”

“How?” Hyacinth asked.

“We could put a toad in Mr. Meriwether’s
bed,” Daisy suggested.

“I got a toad,” Lily offered, pulling a flat
amphibian from her grimy pocket.

“That old pirate has the personal habits of a
boar,” Hyacinth said, wrinkling her nose. “He probably wouldn’t
even notice a toad between his sheets. We must think of something
else.”

Pepper in his tea, a cowpie in his boots—one
of the twins even suggested a spider in his coffee, but since no
one wanted to actually handle a spider that excellent idea was
shelved.

“Pity we’ve no brother,” Daisy said. “It’s
times like these when one would come in handy.”

“If we had a brother, we’d have no problem,”
Hyacinth said, basking in the glow of superior knowledge. “Uncle
Gabriel wouldn’t be lord if one of us had been a boy.”

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