The Pirate Lord (20 page)

Unfortunately, across from her cabin was Gideon’s. Jerking Petey inside, she eased the door shut. “Are you mad, Petey? If Gideon finds you here—”

“He’s not on the ship…he’s in his hut. But I share your worry, miss, believe me. Especially now.”

“Especially now? What do you mean?”

Petey looked grim. “The pirate is payin’ me to leave Atlantis tomorrow with his men. He says I may go where I wish from there, long as I don’t return here.” At her stunned look, he added, “I agreed to go, of course. ’Tis the only way to bring your brother back.”

It took her a moment to assimilate what he was saying, but when she did, hope leapt in her breast. “That’s wonderful! You’re leaving! You can bring Jordan to rescue us all!” Then a sudden doubt assailed her. “Do you really think you can find your way back? This island has been isolated for centuries.”

“That’s only because it’s off the main trade route.” A fleeting grin touched his lips. “But I been watchin’ the compass and takin’ reckonings of our course ever since we left the Cape Verde Islands. I think I can find it again well enough. I’m sure he don’t expect that a low sailor like me would’ve paid attention, since I told him from the first that I jumped off the
Chastity
because I didn’t want to go back to England. I know that’s why he’s lettin’ me go.”

Was it? She chewed on her lower lip worriedly. It didn’t seem right that Gideon would let Petey go so easily. “But Petey, this could be some awful trick. What if he has his men take you out somewhere and maroon
you?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Or…or even murder you?”

Cocking his head, Petey stared at her with the solemn intensity characteristic of him. “D’ye truly think he would? D’ye think he’s that sort of man?”

The question took her off guard. Was Gideon a killer? Of course he was. He was a pirate, wasn’t he?

Still, her heart couldn’t believe it, not after today. “No, I guess not.” When Petey nodded, she clutched his arms. “But I could be wrong. And if I am—”

“He won’t kill me. He told me he wouldn’t. And I don’t know why, but I believe him.” He scowled. “But that don’t mean he won’t do other things. Soon as I’m gone, he’ll try to take you for his woman, Miss Willis, depend on it. ‘Tis the only thing that worries me about leavin’ you.”

It was the only thing that worried Sara as well, but this was no time to think of it. If Petey didn’t go for help, they would all be forced into marriage, and she refused to see that happen. “You mustn’t worry about me. I can hold my own against Captain Horn, never fear. We still have a few days before we choose our husbands, and I may have bought us a few more days today. After all, it will take the pirates time to improve their homes, and perhaps if we continue to balk, Gideon will…will…”

She hesitated. She could tell from Petey’s expression that he didn’t believe a word of it. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You must go. It’s our only chance.”

Raking his hands through his hair, Petey nodded wearily. “I know. But I feel like I’m failin’ you somehow.” His voice softened. “You and Ann.”

Sara chewed on her lower lip. Ann was another matter entirely. “You know she’ll wait for you.”

“They won’t give her that choice.” His expression grew so woeful that Sara laid her hand around his bony shoulders to comfort him. “I’d take her with me if I could, but the cap’n would never allow it. Besides, it’d
alert him that I been lyin’ about you and me. In any case, she’s told me she can’t go. She’s a criminal now. If I go back to England, like I have to, she’ll be in danger of being caught again and somethin’ worse happenin’ to her. So I got to leave her here for the moment.”

“Don’t worry,” Sara said, wishing she could sound more hopeful. “I’ll do what I can to make sure none of the other pirates has her to wife.”

“I can’t bear to think of her bein’ forced into it—”

“I know. It’ll be all right; you’ll see. You concentrate on getting away from here and bringing back help, and I’ll take care of Ann.”

To her surprise, Petey suddenly threw his arms around her and clutched her in a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, Miss Willis, you’re too good. I’ve failed you every step of the way, and here y’are, lookin’ out for me and the one I love.”

“Stop saying you’ve failed me. You haven’t. You’ve done everything humanly possible and then—”

Whatever she might have said was drowned out when the door to her cabin swung open and slammed against the wall. She and Petey sprang apart at once, but it was too late. Gideon was staring at them with thunder on his face.

“You and I had a bargain, Hargraves. And it appears you aren’t keeping your end of it.”

Though the blood drained from Petey’s face, he pulled himself up straight. “It wouldn’t have been right to leave without sayin’ good-bye. An honorable man wouldn’t have done it.”

“An honorable man wouldn’t have sold her out for gold, either. Did you tell her that? Did you tell her you were more than happy to take wealth over her?”

When Petey merely shrugged, the look of fury on Gideon’s face made Sara’s heart skip more than one beat. The man was truly terrifying when he was angry, though she wasn’t quite sure why he was so angry
about this. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her and Petey together before.

“Get out,” Gideon added in a low, threatening voice. “Get out of this cabin and off my ship. You’ll get your gold, though I ought to toss you to the sharks. Be on that sloop tomorrow, or I swear I’ll do just that.”

Casting her a quick, apologetic glance, Petey sidled between her and Gideon, then fled out the door. For a moment, she felt paralyzed by terror, but she recovered her composure quickly. It wouldn’t do to let him know she was afraid of him. He’d take advantage of that.

She took a deep, steadying breath as she crossed her arms over her chest to cover her trembling. “I suppose you think you’ve won now. You’ve gotten rid of Petey, so you assume I’ll just fall into your arms.”

With an inscrutable look, he stepped further into the cabin and closed the door behind him. “I know better than to assume anything where you’re concerned. You never concede defeat easily. But at least I’ve eliminated your best ammunition.” His eyes roamed her with a familiarity that brought flame to her cheeks. “And I promise, sweetheart, I can handle anything else you throw at me.”

He took a step toward her, then stopped. A grim purpose showed in his face as the lamp lit him in an unholy light. Stretching out his hand, he stroked the line of her jaw, leaving fire behind wherever he touched. Just this morning, he’d touched her like that, making her blood sing, dragging cries of pleasure out of her.

But he was different now. She couldn’t put her finger on how. He was just different. In his steely eyes shone the same cold calculation she’d seen the first day of the capture. This wasn’t the Gideon who’d held her while she cried. This was a Gideon who wanted only her body, who would take her without a jot of caring.

Though she found this Gideon as seductive as the other, this one terrified her as the other hadn’t. And this one had the power to destroy her.

Carefully backing away from his outstretched hand, she whispered, “What happens after the battle is over, Gideon? You marry me? Is that what you want? For me to choose you as husband?”

At once his expression grew shuttered. Tucking his thumbs in his belt, he stared at her, a sneer forming on his lips. “Are you saying you
would
marry me? A disgusting, blood-hungry American pirate?”

“That’s not the question, is it?” She thrust the heavy weight of her hair back over her shoulder, and his eyes followed her movements hungrily, making her regret the gesture. Tucking her hands beneath her arms, she hastened to add, “You haven’t said that
you’d
marry
me
, an English noblewoman.”

“Why don’t we skip discussion of our impending nuptials until we see if we suit each other?” With a sudden lunge that took her by surprise, he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into his embrace. “Unlike Hargraves, I like to sample the goods before I pay the price…
milady
.”

He spoke the last word with such sarcasm that her heart sank. He only called her “milady” when he wanted to remind himself of how much he hated “her kind.” And the rest of his crude words, meant to demean her, were more of the same.

“You won’t be sampling anything of mine!” She shoved against his chest. “Release me at once, you…you…”

“Despoiler of women? Wicked ravisher? Come now, Sara, say what you like, but we both know you want me to make love to you. This morning—”

“This morning you were different,” she blurted out. When his gaze burned into her, she added quickly, “You cared about me. And yes, I wanted you to make love to me. I admit it. But not now, not when you’re like this. Not when you detest me so.”

“Do I act like I detest you?” He ground his hips
against her until she felt his arousal. “Do I
feel
like a man who detests you?”

She shoved her hands against his chest, now almost frantic to get away from him. “I’m not talking about what you think of my body, Gideon. I’m talking about what you think of
me
. I’ve heard the contempt in your voice when you speak of my class and my position in society. I’ve seen how you look at me sometimes, with anger and resentment, as if you hate me for being English and…and privileged.”

“That’s neither here nor there.” He caught her chin in his hand, trying to force her head up so he could kiss her. “Your body wants my body, and God knows mine wants yours. So let’s satisfy both our needs and be done with it.”

“No!” she cried, wrenching her head from his hand. “I’m not a plump hen for you to gobble up simply because you’re hungry! Nor will I bear the brunt of your hatred for my ‘kind’!”

This time when she shoved at him, he released her, though his breath came hard and fast as he trained his frigid gaze on her. “What do you want from me? Undying love? A vow of constancy? A proposal of marriage? What’s your game?”

“That’s just it, Gideon. I have no game. And since you can’t seem to believe that, I…I want no part of you. Leave me alone. If you can’t see me as plain Sara Willis, then stay away and let me find someone who can.”

“You mean Hargraves.”

“I mean, a man who doesn’t hate what I am.” Sadness laced her tone. “And I don’t think you can be that man.”

A sudden coldness seemed to freeze his body, for he went rigid and pale. “You’re right. I can’t.” He started to leave, then hesitated. “But I doubt you’ll find anyone else here to fit your lofty expectations, now that your friend Hargraves is leaving. My men hate your kind as much as I do. Your tastes are much too refined for any of them anyway.”

His voice lowered a notch. “And we both know
I’m
the only one who can satisfy your other needs, the needs you keep pretending you don’t have. So who will be your choice of husband, Sara? Who?”

That question echoed in her ears as he bent his head to clear the doorway and then was gone. A thousand curses upon the man for knowing her so well! Yes, who could she choose if not him? Who?

T
aking a furtive glance around and seeing no one, Louisa ushered Ann into Silas Drummond’s tiny hut, which lay a few yards from the entrance to the communal kitchen.

“I thought Silas said we wasn’t to come in here,” Ann whispered.

“I don’t care what he said. The man clearly needs help.” Louisa waved her hand to take in the entire room. “This place is a pigsty.”

Soiled clothing lay in discarded piles on the scarred wooden planks of the floor. Dirty dishes were strewn about the room. Obviously Silas didn’t believe in washing or putting away anything, despite the cupboard that sat in one corner and the wardrobe and trunk in another. The room looked like the cave dwelling of an ogre.

Well, Silas might act like an ogre, but that was only a pretense. Louisa wasn’t about to let him live in this
filth any longer. While he was off hunting grouse with Barnaby, she and Ann would set the place to rights. Although he’d complain about it later, he’d like it once he got used to it. What man wouldn’t?

Besides, she could endure his grumbling as long as he never did more than that. In the five days since the capture, he’d mumbled and cursed and shouted, but he’d never once lifted a hand to her in anger. There’d even been moments when he’d shown her great kindness—like when she’d burnt her hand on that cursed galley stove. He’d found her an ointment to soothe it. And when she’d complained about the hardness of her bedroll on the ship, she’d gone back one night to find a feather mattress in its place. At the time she’d guessed he might have put it there, but now she knew for sure, because she could see her bedroll lying on his bed.

But that was Silas, all bark and no bite. So the least she could do for him was set his house to rights. “Well, let’s go to it, Ann,” she said as she rolled up her sleeves. “We’ve got quite a bit of work to do before the men return.”

With a nod, Ann stepped toward the crude table and swept some biscuit crumbs into her apron. “I wonder if Petey’s made it to Sao Nicolau yet. It’s been three days this mornin’ since they left. They ought to be there by now, don’t you think?”

Louisa cast the Welshwoman a sidelong glance, but all she saw in Ann’s face was a wistful regret, which was better than the horribly sad expression the woman had worn for the first two days of Petey’s absence. “Most likely the men have been there and gone. They’ll be sailing into Atlantis in a day or two.”

“But not Petey.”

“No,” Louisa said in a soothing voice, “not Petey.” It still surprised her that Petey had been so willing to abandon them. She’d always thought herself a good judge of character, and he hadn’t seemed the type to run off.

“Now that Petey’s gone,” Ann said, “who do you think Miss Willis will choose for her husband?”

“I don’t know. Sara dislikes all the pirates enormously.”

“Not all of ’em. She’s fond of the captain. I expect he’d be the only one she’d consider choosin’.”

Louisa had bent to sweep some rotting banana peels into a dustpan, but now she straightened and stared at Ann. “Captain Horn? And Sara? Have you gone mad? Sara
despises
the captain.”

Ann shook her head. “I don’t think so, Louisa. She fights with him, but I think she pines for him, too. And it’s clear as day he’s got his eye on her.”

With a snort, Louisa swept more refuse into the dustpan. “Oh, of course. That’s why he called for Queenie that night we arrived—”

“But he didn’t do nothin’ with her. I heard her tell one of the other girls all about it. He sent her to Mr. Kent instead. And I’ll wager it was on account of Miss Willis.”

Louisa stopped short on her way to Silas’s bed to pull off the dirty linens. Sara? And Captain Horn? What a dreadful thought! It could never work, those two together. If Sara believed she could handle that pirate captain, she was much mistaken. He was the sort of man to break a woman’s heart, especially one that hadn’t been toughened like Louisa’s. “If you’re right, they’ve certainly been discreet about it. He seems to avoid her, and she does the same.”

“Aye, but they watch each other when they think the other’s not lookin’. One day she was laughin’ at somethin’ Mr. Kent said, and Captain Horn scowled so fiercely at ’em both I thought for sure they’d go up in flames. Right after that was when he put Mr. Kent to helpin’ the men bring lumber from the far side of the island. He’s got an eye for her, and I think she’s got one for him, too.”

“Oh, I hope you’re wrong. He’s not the right man for her.”

“I dunno.” Ann bent to pick up a pewter cup lying under the table. “He’s not so bad as you might think. He was right nice to me when we talked once. Asked me about Ma and all. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“Getting to know him is precisely what I intend to avoid,” Louisa muttered as she snatched the sheets off the bedroll that lay in the midst of a spartan wooden frame. Captain Horn terrified the wits out of her. He was too much like Harry, her former employer’s son, for her tastes. Although she’d never seen Captain Horn hurt anyone, she couldn’t help believe his bite would be far worse than his bark, which was fierce enough. In any case, she had no desire to find out for certain.

Nor could she bear to think of sweet Sara in that hard man’s arms. She didn’t care what Ann said, the thought was just dreadful. The next chance she had to be alone with Sara, she’d talk some sense into the woman.

Suddenly, Ann let out a low whistle from across the room. “Dear me, what’s this?” Setting aside the pewter cup she still held in her hand, she picked up a large carved wooden object half-hidden behind a balled-up pair of rank-smelling woolens.

Louisa glanced at what Ann was holding and shrugged. “It looks like a carving of a woman.”

“Yes, but with such big—I mean, have you ever seen a woman with…with…”

“Bosoms,” she said dryly. “You can say the word, you know.”

Taking the carving from Ann, she turned it in her hands. The woman did indeed have disproportionate breasts for her body. They were large as pumpkins. They matched a set of buttocks that were truly spectacular in size, but then, a woman would need those buttocks to keep the weight of those breasts from making her keel over. Louisa examined the small head and feet,
recognizing the style from things she’d seen in books. “I suspect this comes from one of those African places where they worship fertility goddesses.”

Ann looked puzzled. “Fertility goddesses?”

“I read about them in a travel journal a long time ago.”
Back when I spent my evenings reading, when I had a life ahead of me. Back before Harry started fondling my “bosoms
”…

“But what’s a fertility goddess?” Ann persisted, jerking Louisa from her unpleasant thoughts. “And why are her…bosoms so big?”

“Because she represents the fertility of women.” When Ann looked blank, Louisa added, “Women feed children from their breasts, so the craftsman made them big to show women’s nurturing qualities.”

Clearly Ann was completely unfamiliar with the concept of symbolism. The young woman took the carving back from Louisa. “Do you think Silas worships it?”

“I doubt it,” she said dryly. “Judging from what Barnaby told us, Silas can’t…er…father children. No, I suspect his interest in it is more prurient.”

“Aye, and probably nasty, too.”

“Yes, probably so,” Louisa said, biting back a smile.

Ann was now scrutinizing the carving. “’Tis a funny-shaped thing, if you ask me. All teats and buttocks and nothing else. I wonder, do the women in Africa look like this?”

“I doubt it. If they did, we’d already have seen a mass exodus of the English male populace to Africa.”

Ann giggled. “Aye, but they’d be disappointed. A woman like that couldn’t even lie down, could she? Her breasts are so big, they’d hang off the sides of her, and she’d have to balance atop that enormous rear end. She’d never get any sleep and that would keep her husband awake at night.”

“I don’t think her lack of sleep would be what kept her husband awake at night,” Louisa mumbled.

Ann looked at her with a complete lack of compre
hension, and this time Louisa couldn’t contain her smile. Really, sometimes Ann was like a child. Despite everything she’d gone through, she still looked at the world with fresh eyes. Louisa had never been that innocent. She’d never been allowed to be.

“You know, Silas shouldn’t have something indecent like this laying about,” Ann said. “One of the children might see it.” She brightened. “I know! We should put clothes on it! That would make it all right, don’t you think?”

“Oh, by all means. Do clothe the woman,” Louisa said, laughter bubbling up from the back of her throat.

Ann flitted about the room looking for something appropriate. “Ah, this’ll be fine,” she said, her back to Louisa. She fooled with the thing a bit, then turned and held it up for Louisa’s approval.

It took Louisa a second to recognize what Ann had chosen to clothe the poor beleaguered fertility goddess in, but as soon as she did, she burst into laughter.

Silas’s drawers. Ann had clothed the carving in Silas’s dirty drawers.

After that, Louisa couldn’t stop laughing. Ann had tied the legs around the carving’s neck so that the back side of the unlaced drawers covered her front. It was truly a sight to behold. And when Ann looked at her in all innocence, obviously unaware that the lady’s clothing was as indecent as the lady herself, Louisa laughed so hard her sides hurt.

“Louisa, are you all right?” Ann asked as she went to her friend’s side. “I swear, you’re behavin’ strange today. Really strange.”

Louisa couldn’t even speak. All she could do was laugh and point at the carving.

“This?” Ann asked as she held the carving up. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like her fine woolen dress?”

Louisa erupted in more peals of laughter. Unfortunately, it was just at that moment, when Louisa was laughing herself to death and Ann was waving the carv
ing about in the air, that Silas chose to make his untimely entrance.

“What are you females doing in here?” his raspy male voice roared from the doorway, making them both jump.

Ann dropped the carving at once, watching with horrified eyes as it rolled across the wooden floor, losing its exotic gown in the process. Louisa managed to rein in her laughter, though a few chuckles still bubbled out of her.

“We wasn’t doing nothin’, truly,” Ann began to babble. “Louisa said…I mean…we thought…”

“It’s all right, Ann.” Louisa faced Silas, laughter still in her eyes. But when she saw his livid expression and reddened face, she sobered at once. “I’m sure Silas knows better than to blame you.”

“We was just tryin’ to help.” Bending to pick up the carving, Ann held it out to Silas. “Honestly, Mr. Drumm—”

Silas made a choking sound as he saw what Ann held in her hands. “Get out.” Snatching the carving from her, he tossed it across the room. “I said get out of here! Now!”

Ann hurried to the door, and Louisa followed quickly behind, but just as she approached Silas, he grabbed her arm. “Not you, Louisa…just her. I got a word or two to say to you.”

Her heart sank, and for the first time since she’d met Silas, Louisa felt fear. This wasn’t the man who’d given her salve for her burn. This was a different Silas. She’d never seen him look quite so furious. His eyebrows were drawn into a tight frown, and even his beard seemed to bristle up. She must have been daft to think he would overlook her coming into his hut while he was away. Daft indeed.

Well, it didn’t matter. She’d dealt with plenty of angry men before, and the best way to fend them off was not
to let them take advantage of you. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Wrenching her arm from Silas’s grasp, she faced him, her posture stiff. “It’ll do you no good to scold me, Silas. I didn’t do anything wrong. Someone had to clean up this…this pigsty you call a house, and since you obviously weren’t going to ask anyone—”

“You aimed to do it behind my back.”

There was a wealth of resentment in his tone that suddenly made her realize how he might see this. “Not exactly. I just…I thought you would appreciate it more once it was done.”

“Oh, you did, did you? You thought I’d appreciate havin’ my things tossed about and made fun of?”

She colored. “That wasn’t what it seemed. We were just—” She broke off when she realized she couldn’t possibly explain that to his satisfaction. “We weren’t trying to cause trouble. We just wanted to help…to…to pay you back for being so kind to us.”

His eyebrow shot up. “To
us
?”

Her blush deepened. “To me.”

That seemed to give him pause. He stared at her a long moment. Then, to her surprise, he turned away and headed across the room. Taking his pipe off a shelf, he filled it with tobacco, then lit it and took a couple of puffs before cradling it in his right hand. The pungent smell of tobacco smoke filled the room. When he faced her, his anger seemed to have faded.

Instead, he watched her with eyes half-hooded by his bushy eyebrows. “You’re a meddling woman, Louisa Yarrow, do you know that? A meddling woman if ever I saw one.” He paused to draw hard on his pipe, his brown eyes watching her the whole time. “What puzzles me is why you meddle in
my
life when there’s plenty of other men on this island for you to pester. That’s all I want to know.”

“I didn’t think of it as pestering you.”

He ignored her caustic comment. “Why me, Louisa? Why am I the only one?”

She grew uncomfortable under his intent stare. Turning away from him, she began to snatch up his soiled clothing. “You’re the cook, that’s all, and I wanted to make sure we got some decent food for a change. You must admit you’re not the best cook, Silas.”

He didn’t protest the insult hotly, as he usually did with everyone else. To her shock, he said, “Aye, ’tis true. I served Gideon well as a sailor before I lost me leg, and that’s why Gideon puts up with me cookin’.”

She hadn’t known that. It made her revise her opinion of Captain Horn a little.

“But that don’t answer my question,” Silas continued. “You don’t know much more about cookin’ than I do. I heard you were a governess back in England, not a cook.”

“I was. But in the years I worked for the Duke of Dorchester, I…became interested in cooking. I used to spend a lot of time in the kitchen.” Yes, quite a bit of time. It had been the one place Harry could never catch her alone, the one place she was safe from his groping hands. That she’d learned a bit about meal preparation had just been a side benefit.