The Pirate Lord (12 page)

“He stood watch outside the cells every night. The cap’n ordered it. Petey kept an eye out for all of us.” She ducked her head, but not before Gideon caught a glimpse of the hero worship in her eyes. “Especially me.”

So Ann was infatuated with the little Englishman, was she? That’s why she didn’t mind marrying, and why she would never consider Gideon as a husband.

He didn’t bother to examine the feeling of relief that swept him. He merely continued to eat. And watch Sara. “Why do you think he was talking to Miss Willis?”

Ann kicked her short legs back and forth against the box. “I don’t know. Maybe because she looks out for us, too. Maybe they’re talkin’ about what to do once we reach the island.”

Maybe, he thought. It wouldn’t surprise him to find Sara enlisting the help of someone who’d already proved sympathetic toward the women.
Not that you gave her any other choice
, he thought.
Who else was she supposed to turn to for help
?

He scowled. Confound her. That woman had him doubting all his plans. And now she’d have Hargraves helping her.

“Did Miss Willis have anything to do with Hargraves’s becoming the women’s protector?” he asked.

Ann looked confused. “I don’t think so. She didn’t seem to know him any better than the rest of us.”

“So she has no connection with Hargraves?”

“None that I know of.”

He relaxed. At least he need not worry about that.

She cocked her head and stared up at him. “Why?”

“No reason.” He’d finished his food now, and it was long past time for the women to be sent below. His men were getting rowdy, and soon some of them would make fools of themselves, or worse yet, accost the women more forcefully than they should, which wouldn’t smooth relations any.

Handing Ann his empty plate, he said, “Forgive me, but I have some matters to attend to. Thank you for keeping me company.”

She cast him a smile so brilliant that for a second, he almost envied scrawny Hargraves, the man who obviously had her affections. But the feeling didn’t last. Although he wanted a sweet, quiet wife, Ann was just a bit too sweet and quiet for him.

Gideon crossed the deck to where Barnaby flirted with a bony-armed doxy and pulled him aside. “It’s time to get the women below. Have Miss Willis help you.” He scanned the deck for her, scowling when he saw her talking animatedly amid a large group of women. First Peter Hargraves, and now the women. Sara never stopped scheming, did she?

Barnaby had already started to walk away, but Gideon halted him. “Wait, I’ve changed my mind. Leave Miss Willis out of it. I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh?”

“I’m putting her in your cabin. You can bunk with Silas for the next couple of days.”

“She won’t like that.”

Gideon flashed him a grim smile. “I don’t care what she likes. If she spends her nights with the women, she’ll cook up another rebellion. I want her where I can keep an eye on her.”

A sly grin twisted Barnaby’s lips. “That’s the only rea
son for putting her in my cabin? The cabin right across from yours?”

“That’s the only reason,” Gideon snapped. Confound the English bastard. He was a buck of the first head, so he expected every man to be one. “I’m going to tell her now. Wait until I’ve got her inside, then send the women below.”

“If you carry her off without a word of explanation, the women will want to know why. They look to her for help.”

That was exactly the problem. “Tell them whatever you want about it, as long as it doesn’t make them angry. But she’s staying in your cabin regardless of what they think.” With that, he strode away from his first mate.

For the hundredth time he cursed himself for succumbing to the whim that had made him take Sara aboard the
Satyr
. She’d been nothing but trouble from the moment she’d set foot on his ship.

The women scattered as he approached her, and he took that to be a bad sign. A bad sign indeed. “What are you plotting now?”

“Plotting?” she asked, her expression as innocent as a nun’s.

But he knew better than to trust that expression. “Yes, with the women. You must’ve been plotting something, or they wouldn’t have run off when I approached.”

She tossed her head back, and the wind tugged a few feathery locks away from her face, putting her stubborn features in high relief. “We were merely discussing what time to meet for classes in the morning. They ran off because they’re all terrified of you.”

He could hardly argue with that, since he’d just witnessed Ann Morris’s reaction to him. The thought that half the women feared him didn’t lighten his mood. Hooking his thumbs in his belt, he cast Sara a cool glance. “Aren’t you?”

Her eyes glittered in the lantern light, though he
couldn’t help notice that her chin trembled. “I told you before. I don’t fear anything, least of all you.”

Stepping closer, he lowered his voice. “Really? Then you won’t mind sleeping in the cabin across from mine.”

Fear flashed in her face a second before she mastered it. “Wh-what do you mean?”

Pleased that he’d succeeded in ruffling her feathers, he took her arm and began leading her toward the quarterdeck. “You’ll be spending your nights in Barnaby’s cabin until we reach Atlantis Island.” When she looked at him in horror, he added, “Don’t worry, Barnaby will bunk with Silas. You’ll have the cabin to yourself.”

“But why?” She tried jerking her arm out of his grasp, and when he continued to propel her forward, she hissed, “I want to stay below with the rest of the women!”

“I know. You want to incite them to escape or rebel or engage in some other futile activity.” He thrust her through the entrance to the cabin area under the quarterdeck, then released her. “Well, I won’t have it. I run an orderly ship, and I won’t have you wreaking havoc aboard. The men and women are getting along fine, and I’d rather keep it that way.”

She whirled on him, mutiny showing in the set of her jaw and her fisted hands. “What do you intend to do? Imprison me in that cabin for the entire journey?”

“No. I just want you where I can see you, that’s all.” When her eyes flashed, he softened his tone. “You’re free to go wherever you want during the day, to have your classes and such, but I don’t want you closeted with the other women at night. Just call it a precautionary measure, and a mild one at that.”

His words seemed to mollify her, for she relaxed her stance.

He took a few steps forward, then stopped in front of Barnaby’s cabin. “Besides, you’ll be far more comfortable in this cabin than you would below decks.” He
opened the door and gestured for her to enter. “See for yourself.”

Keeping a wary eye on him, she slipped past him and into the cabin. He followed her inside, turning up the lamp so she could see better. Surprise, then pleasure suffused her face with color.

Barnaby’s cabin was less comfortable than his, but not by much. Piracy had rewarded all of them well, evidenced by the wide bunk with its feather mattress, the full-length mirror that was testament to Barnaby’s vanity, and the carved ebony wardrobe Barnaby had acquired in Africa.

Of course, Sara had few clothes to put in that wardrobe. He regretted that he’d never given her a chance to pack her trunks before he’d taken her aboard the
Satyr
. Doing something about the women’s meager clothing would have to be the first order of business when they reached Atlantis.

“Will it do?” he asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

She turned to him. Her eyes grew shuttered and any signs of pleasure vanished from her face. “I suppose I can endure it.”

As if he couldn’t tell she liked it. He suppressed a smile. What a proud thing she was—it must be that noble blood running through her pure little veins. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to your rest. I must make sure the other women are settled.” He started to walk out.

“Gideon?”

At the sound of his Christian name on her lips, he froze. It felt so intimate, so sensual. He wanted to hear her use it again. He wanted to hear her murmur it in that low, throaty voice that—

Confound it, there he went again, thinking of her as a woman. A desirable, accessible woman. “Yes?” he said, more harshly than he’d intended.

“When we reach the island, what will the…um…sleeping arrangements be?” Though it clearly embar
rassed her to ask, she didn’t flinch when he fixed her with a narrowed gaze. Not even having considered the question until now, he didn’t answer her immediately.

She lifted her chin just high enough to torment him with a tantalizing flash of long white throat. “Well?”

You’ll sleep with me
. The thought came instantly into his mind, and just as instantly he cursed himself for it. She wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere near him on Atlantis if he had anything to say about it.

“The men will sleep on the ship and the women in our huts until the weddings.” The men would grumble loudly about that, but it was the only solution he could think of at the moment.

She took a steadying breath. “And will I be allowed to…lodge with the other women?”

Casting her a long, meaningful look, he lowered his voice. “Only if you behave yourself.”

A hint of her earlier willfulness glinted in her brown eyes. “You mean, only if I sit back and let you do as you wish with those women.”

“Exactly.”

She tipped her nose up high in the air. “In that case, I fear I shall never be able to behave myself.”

“Then I’ll have to respond accordingly, won’t I? Even if it means keeping you in the cabin across from mine until the day of the weddings.”

He waited until he saw the blush spread over her porcelain skin. Then, satisfied that he’d outraged her sufficiently to make her think twice the next time she wanted to cross him, he walked back to his cabin whistling.

B
efore the sun had fully risen the next morning, Sara was up. She took a few moments to perform her ablutions and throw her gown on over the shift she’d slept in, but there wasn’t much she could do for herself with neither a brush nor fresh clothes. She did what she could, finger-combing her hair and scrubbing her face with sea water from the bucket left outside her door by some conscientious pirate. Then she hurried out of her cabin and onto the deck.

She needed to have a word with Petey. She wanted to tell him that if he found a chance to escape, he should do so even if he couldn’t take her. But she had to find him first.

Just before they’d parted yesterday, he’d said he’d be on the early morning watch today. Maybe she could catch him alone before the rest of the ship awakened. She surveyed the deck, relieved to see that most of the pirates did seem to be still in their beds, and the few
who were on watch paid her little heed. But where was Petey?

Perhaps they’d sent him up in the rigging as Captain Rogers had often done. Shading her eyes against the rising sun, she lifted her head and scanned the masts.

“Looking for someone?” a deep voice beside her said.

She jumped and whirled to face the intruder. Bother it all, it was Gideon. Why wasn’t he still in bed like the rest of them?

Apparently he’d just performed his own morning ablutions, for his hair was wet and slicked back from his forehead, with only the ends curling dry. His insolent gold hoop earring winked in the early morning sun, as if shouting his contempt for civilization. But far more shocking was the absence of his shirt. Today he was dressed like many of his men, with only a leather vest to cover his upper torso.

She sucked in a breath. There was something so appallingly intimate about a man’s nearly bare chest. His was unfortunately quite broad and muscled, with just a sprinkling of black hair that formed a ragged line beneath the loose leather ties of his vest and trailed down to his golden belt buckle with its onyx inset. Clearly he seldom wore a shirt, for his arms were tanned right up to his shoulders, the skin so dark it almost blended in with his nut-brown vest.

She realized she’d been staring only when he said, his voice lower and huskier, “Who are you looking for?”

His words snapped her out of her terrible trance. “I…I…” She thought furiously and said the only thing that came to mind. “For you. I was looking for you.”

Suspicion flashed in his sea-blue eyes. “In the rigging?”

“Yes. Why not?”

“Either you’re very ignorant about what a captain’s duties are, or you’re lying. Which is it?”

Ignoring the plummeting sensation in her stomach, she forced a smile to her face. “Really, Gideon, you are
so suspicious. Last night you accused me of plotting behind your back, and this morning you accuse me of lying. Who else would I be looking for but you?”

Though his eyes bore into hers as if trying to ferret out the truth, she gave him her most innocent look.

He tucked his thumbs in his belt, his gaze still skeptical. “And why would you be looking for me?”

Good heavens, how was she to answer that? “Because…because I want to go below.” Yes, that was a logical excuse. “I want to look in on the women and see about beginning our classes. I assume I need your permission for that, since you’ve posted a guard—”

“Don’t you think it’s a little early in the morning for school? Most of the women are probably still asleep.”

It was clear from his raised eyebrows that he didn’t believe her. Her heart sank. She wasn’t proficient at lying, as Jordan had so loved to point out. Then again, she’d never before had such a desperate reason for it.

She turned away from him before her face revealed everything. “I hadn’t thought of that. It
is
early. Perhaps I’ll just take a turn around the deck.” In the process, she could look for Petey and shake off Gideon.

“That’s an excellent idea,” he said, almost as if he’d read her mind. “It’s a lovely morning, and not yet hot. You don’t mind if I walk with you, do you?”

Bother it all. The suspicious lout was determined not to let her out of his sight. She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice, Sara.” His rumbling voice sent little frissons of alarm up and down her spine. For the first time that morning, he gave her a dazzling smile. It threw her completely out of kilter, reminding her of the way he’d held her yesterday in his cabin and kissed her with heart-stopping passion.

The wretch was far too handsome for words. Why did God have to give such good looks to the most abominable men? First Colonel Taylor, and now this pirate. It was damned unfair.

She groaned. The scoundrel even had her cursing. Where would it end?

He offered her his arm in a courtly gesture utterly at odds with his scandalous attire. She hesitated to take it. He had a tendency to bring the worst out in her, and right now she wanted to keep her wits about her.

On the other hand, she shouldn’t provoke him when she had no reason other than her weakness to his charm; it would be better to pick her battles. There were bound to be plenty of them to pick.

Tucking her hand in the crook of his bare elbow, she let him lead her into a stroll along the deck. Her bare fingers touched the skin of his naked arm in an intimacy she wasn’t used to. In London, whenever she’d taken a man’s arm he’d worn layers of clothing and she’d worn gloves.

This was nothing like that. No indeed. She felt it every time he flexed a muscle, and his skin radiated a heat that warmed her fingers, then sneaked up her arm to warm the rest of her body. Oh, how she wished she hadn’t left her gloves behind on the
Chastity
. At the moment, she would give a king’s ransom for even the slightest protection that flimsy kid leather could provide.

They walked in silence a while. They passed a pirate polishing the brass fittings on the capstan, but just as Sara tried to get a peek at the man’s face to see if it was Petey, Gideon tucked her hand more firmly into the crook of his elbow.

“Tell me something, Sara. What made a lady like you agree to sail with the
Chastity
? Why risk such a harsh and dangerous journey?”

“It wasn’t dangerous until you and your greedy pirates came along,” she grumbled.

“It would’ve gotten plenty dangerous, I assure you, if you’d stayed on the
Chastity
much longer. Many a ship has foundered in the rough waters of the Cape, including a convict ship or two. Which makes it even
more curious that a woman of your class would endanger herself for a lot of poor unfortunates.” His tone hardened. “Surely if you needed entertainment, there were plenty of balls and parties to occupy an earl’s daughter.”

Why, the very idea! How dared he make such assumptions when he knew nothing about her!

Releasing his arm, she stalked away to stand by the brass rail. She could feel him behind her, a large, disturbing presence. “I’ve been a reformer all my life, and so was my mother before me. Her motto was ‘It only takes one caring soul to make things right’, and I’ve lived by that motto as best I could.”

She curled her fingers about her locket. Her earliest memories were of taking baskets of food to the prisoners and learning to sew by making patchwork quilts for the poor.

“And your father?” Gideon asked.

“My real father died in debtor’s prison when I was two years old.”

There was a long, shocked silence behind her. When Gideon spoke, his voice was laced with genuine compassion. “I’m sorry.”

She sucked in an uneven breath. “I never knew him, but my mother loved him very much. His death changed her. After that, all she wanted was to find some way to better the lives of those who suffered. Despite having little money and even less possibility for a future, she interceded for prisoners with the authorities and appealed to the House of Lords to change the unfair laws. That’s how she met and married my stepfather, Lord Blackmore.”

He came up to stand beside her, leaning on the rail with folded arms. “I’m sure he put a stop to all her good works.”

She glanced at him, but he was staring across the sparkling waters of the ocean with eyes that were bitter, unforgiving.

“Actually, he didn’t,” she said softly. “He supported her reform efforts until the day she died.” She ran her fingers idly over the shiny rail. “She took me everywhere she went and instilled in me a belief that people could rid the world of injustice if they made the effort. And I guess I just…followed in her footsteps.” She ventured a smile. “Now that she and my stepfather have passed away, I feel a responsibility to carry on the family business, so to speak.”

“The family business? Sending a young woman of quality off with a lot of thieves and murderers?”

Angling her body toward him, she met his dark gaze steadily. “You called them ‘poor unfortunates’ before.”

For a moment he said nothing. Then a small smile touched his lips, muting the harsh planes of his face. “Aye, I did, didn’t I? Still, I can’t believe your stepbrother approved of such a dangerous project, even if it was for a worthy purpose.”

“No, he didn’t.” Clouds scudded by, passing over the sun and casting a fleeting shadow along the length of the ship. “He tried to stop me from going. But it was futile, of course. I’m old enough to go where I want, with or without his permission, and he finally had to accept that I would do as I pleased.”

Gideon’s smile vanished as quickly as the sun had vanished behind the clouds. “You make a habit of that, don’t you?” He propped one elbow on the rail and set his other hand on his hip as he faced her. “But let me warn you, Sara Willis. Your family might indulge your willfulness and your schemes, but I won’t. Your whims won’t be tolerated on my ship. Or my island.”

“
Your
island? I thought it was a classless utopia that didn’t belong to anyone.”

A cold scowl darkened his features. “It is. But someone has to make the rules and enforce them, and my men have elected me to do it. That means we follow
my
rules on
my
island.” He paused. “I know that’s hard for your kind to accept. You’re used to getting what you
want as the Earl of Blackmore’s daughter. But you’ll adjust to it eventually, or learn the hard way what it means to flout authority.”

She ignored his threat, but the way he’d said “the Earl of Blackmore’s daughter” with such contempt roused her curiosity. He seemed to have an unreasonable hatred of nobility, and she suspected it didn’t stem simply from his being an American.

“I wonder,” she said, her tone even, “who taught
you
‘what it means to flout authority.’ I wonder what terrible English nobleman taught you to hate ‘my kind’ so bitterly.”

For a moment she thought she’d gone too far. His eyes blazed as he pushed away from the rail. Every muscle in his lean torso was tensed, like that of a beast preparing to pounce, and she stepped back from him instinctively, her hand going to her throat.

“Trust me,” he finally said, in a low voice edged with anger, “you don’t want to know.”

Turning on his heel, he stalked off toward the foc’sle, leaving her to stand there shaking.

With a cursory glance at the compass, Gideon turned the wheel a quarter-turn. The rays of the afternoon sun slanted across the ship’s stern, warming his head and back. Unfortunately, he was already too warm, thanks to Sara Willis.

He’d avoided her the whole day by giving Barnaby charge of her, but it hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her. That business about her mother had taken him by surprise. A reforming woman married to an earl. Amazing.

Of course, it probably hadn’t been as dramatic as Sara had implied. Her mother’s reform efforts, and Sara’s, too, must have been limited to protected situations. Gideon had held enough English earls at swordpoint to know that they were a cautious, haughty lot who didn’t allow their female relatives to travel about getting their
hands dirty with the concerns of the poor.

Still, Sara
had
taken passage aboard the
Chastity
. She
had
argued for the convict women without concern for herself. Now that he thought about it, the only reason she’d told him that her stepbrother was the earl was to try to convince him not to take the
Chastity
. That wasn’t the act of a timid or fastidious woman.

A smile touched his lips. Sara was about as timid as a warship. A very pretty warship, with sleek lines from stem to stern, but still a warship, intended for battle. When it came to the women and their well-being, she fought like any well-gunned brig. Her courage was daunting…and sobering. In his more frustrated moments, she even had him questioning his decision to take the convict ship.

Then again, that confounded soldier in skirts would make any man question his actions. God help the man who married her. She’d hound him night and day and never give him a moment’s peace.

Except when he was making love to her. He groaned. Why was it every time he thought of Sara he imagined her in bed, her slender arms outstretched, her eyes shrouded in mystery as she beckoned to him like a siren calling a sailor?

No, not to him. Some other man must wreck himself on that shore, because it wasn’t going to be him.

But then some other man would have the delightful experience of kissing her, of touching her silken hair, of stroking her naked body—He let out a low oath as his body instantly responded. If he didn’t stop thinking about her, he’d go insane. Or have to spend the rest of his life taking cold baths.

“Gideon, you’d best go below and hear what that woman’s teaching in her school,” said a voice behind him.

Gideon turned to find Barnaby standing at the top of the ladder to the quarterdeck, an amused look on his face. There was no need to ask who “that woman” was.

“Nothing she says or does would surprise me.” Gideon faced the helm once more, putting his back to Barnaby. He wasn’t about to go anywhere near Sara again, not the way he was feeling now. Let Barnaby deal with her today.

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it’s nothing to worry about. You’ve got more schooling than I have, but isn’t
Lysistrata
the play where the women refuse to have relations with their husbands until the men agree to stop going to war?”