Once Upon a Pirate: Sixteen Swashbuckling Historical Romances Page 5

  Letty blinked, studying him to see if he was teasing her or being insincere. But no, he stared steadily back at her, franker than any man had ever been with her. Not just frank, human. He looked at her and spoke to her as if she were a fellow human, not some subspecies called “female” that deserved to be treated as something lesser. The whole thing, his arms around her and the intensity of his gaze, sent a pulsing warmth through her that focused in her sex and in her heart.

  “I’m glad you killed him,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t need her to spell out who. “I hated him. I hate my father for forcing me to marry him and for blocking the door on my wedding night when I tried to escape.”

  “He what?” Martin snapped, thunderclouds forming in his expression. “I’ll kill him too, if given the chance.” His hands stroked her sides and hips, pulling her flush against his naked body. “I’ll kill any man who so much as thinks of laying a hand on you again. You’re mine now, and I refuse to let you go.”

  Letty’s eyes went wide. “I’m yours?” she squeaked, not entirely opposed to the idea.

  “Yes, of course,” he said, his teasing smile returning. “I’ve a rule that anything my men can carry off the ships we capture becomes their own. I’m fairly certain I can carry you, therefore, you are my prize for this particular expedition.”

  Letty didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or if she was horrified. A pirate captain had just announced that she belonged to him. She wondered what the author of The Secrets of Love would say to that. Letty should have screamed and struggled to get away from him. Instead, she suddenly became aware that she was straddling his hips and his cock was growing harder and hotter by the second.

  “What does one do as the prize of a pirate captain?” she asked in a throaty voice, resting her arms over his shoulders and threading her fingers through his hair.

  His smile turned carnal. “Generally, it means being fucked senseless.” He jerked his hips against hers, bringing his cock into heady contact with her sex.

  Guilt flared once more within Letty, but it was easier to push aside. She was a captive, after all. Martin had claimed her. Perhaps he might keep her with him once they reached St. John’s instead of giving her the money he promised and sending her on her way. Perhaps she could build a whole new life with him. She was certain down to the marrow of her bones that Martin would treat her with more kindness and affection than Pigge had ever been capable of.

  He leaned into her, bringing his mouth close to hers, his eyes glassing over with lust, but a knock at the cabin door stopped him before their lips touched.

  “Captain,” a tenor voice called out. “You’re needed on deck.”

  “Blast,” Martin hissed, letting go of Letty and untangling from her so that he could leap out of bed.

  Letty was left reeling with the shock of him transforming from an ardent lover to a responsible ship’s captain so quickly. She was much slower to force her limbs to move enough to climb out of bed and search for her shift.

  “Never mind about that,” he said as he crossed to the wardrobe and opened it. “You need to wear something more adequate than a shift anyhow. I’ve loads of bits and pieces of things that have been collected in raids over the years. You’re more than welcome to any of it.” He pulled a few articles of clothing from the overstuffed wardrobe, then crossed the cabin again to a washstand built into the opposite wall. “I’d stay and help you clean up and find something, but I’ve already spent more time in bed than any captain should.”

  He sent her a sheepish look that she was beginning to feel was his signature. It was ludicrous that a pirate captain would be known for his blush, but then, nothing about Martin was even remotely what she thought a pirate would or should be like.

  He washed and dressed in record time. Letty had only begun to search through the clothes in the wardrobe by the time he was fully clothed and striding for the cabin door. Before he reached it, though, he switched direction and came over to her. He stole a kiss that took her completely by surprise, then was gone before she could breathe again. And as mad as it was, she found herself smiling over the whole thing, her heart as light as the sunlight dancing off the waves.

  As it turned out, the bits and pieces of clothing Martin had in his wardrobe did not contain a single dress or skirt. He had no women’s clothing at all, which she supposed shouldn’t surprise her. She managed to find a shirt small enough so that she didn’t feel as though she were swimming in a sail, a waistcoat tight enough to make going without stays slightly more comfortable, and a pair of breeches that must have belonged to Jolly. Nothing in her ensemble matched, but at least she was clothed by the time she tip-toed out to the deck.

  What she found was as far from what she expected as possible. The pirates were as busy as they’d been the day before, but several of them were singing in harmony as they swung from the rigging, mopped the decks, or sat about repairing various pieces of rope or parts of the ship Letty had no name for. The newly rechristened Vixen floated about a hundred yards off to the left, but a pair of small boats were in the process of rowing between them, one heading to The Vixen and one toward The Growler, both laden with supplies.

  Strangest of all, most of the ladies who had been Letty’s fellow passengers roamed freely on the deck. Some were dressed in the same gowns they’d been wearing the day before. Others had found new, masculine clothing, as she had. Some were helping the pirates with their repairs and others appeared to be sewing up holes in clothing that could only belong to the pirates. A few were huddled in the shade of the aft deck looking miserable, but only a handful.

  “What is going on here?” Letty asked Lord Ainsley as she approached the spot where he sat against the mainmast.

  He still wore a dress and he was busy sewing what looked like a sail. Lady Malvis stood leaning against the mast with her arms crossed, a scowl on her face. She now wore male garb, but she didn’t seem particularly happy about it. Then again, she’d never seemed happy about anything.

  “We’ve been put to work,” Lord Ainsley announced with a broad grin. “That is to say, those of us who were willing to lend a hand have taken up work. I’ve never sewn a sail before, but I think I’m quite good at it, see?” He held up the corner of rough fabric to show a painfully uneven row of stitches. “If we never return to England again, I think I would make a fine sailmaker. I feel as though I have a natural talent for it.”

  “Do shut up, darling,” Lady Malvis growled.

  “Yes, dear heart,” Lord Ainsley said, and to Letty’s surprise, obeyed her order and went back to work.

  Letty wasn’t sure what to say. She glanced around at the other women, searching for signs of misery and fear. No one seemed to share the same sense of relief and elation that continued to pulse deep within her—along with the guilt, which wouldn’t go away—but things seemed far less woeful than she imagined they would be.

  That assessment seemed even more accurate when one of the pirates—a handsome, black-haired man with deeply tanned skin and dark eyes—walked past Lady Malvis, grinned at her, and winked. Letty held her breath, bracing herself for Lady Malvis’s inevitable furor of indignation. Instead, Lady Malvis’s face went bright pink, she lowered her head, and the faintest hint of a smile touched her lips.

  Letty’s jaw dropped. The moment Lady Malvis caught her staring, she sniffed and tilted her nose up.

  “It’s not as though you were any less intimately occupied last night,” she said, blushing harder than ever.

  Letty didn’t know whether to laugh or gasp. She peeked at Lord Ainsley.

  “They had a devilishly good time of it,” he said, still smiling, as though he hadn’t minded at all. “Plenty of us did.”

  Letty blinked at the word “us”.

  “We broke open Captain Moone’s special store of French wine,” Lord Ainsley went on. “I’ve never had such fun in my life. It was a jolly old scene. Everyone enjoyed themselves in the most shocking ways, even me.” His smile grew to comical proportions. �
�Big, swarthy bloke buggered me senseless. Said he liked my dress. I thanked him for the compliment, and next thing you know, we were down in the hold and I was stretched over a barrel with his cock up my arse.”

  “Ainsley,” Lady Malvis hissed in warning.

  “Bloody amazing, it was,” Lord Ainsley went on. “Who knew there’s a spot up there that feels so glorious? I swear I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

  “Ainsley!” Lady Malvis barked, balling her hands into fists at her sides.

  “I’ve half a mind to try it again,” Lord Ainsley continued, even as Letty clapped a hand over her mouth. “The things you learn when boarded by pirates.”

  Letty burst into laughter, clutching her stomach, unable to stop herself. The whole situation was surreal.

  “Really, Ainsley,” Lady Malvis shouted. “Must you speak of these things in public?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, pet,” he said, smiling up at her. “I’ll still service you and get you to make those delicious sounds I like so much. Unless you’d prefer that swarthy fellow to do it.”

  Tears streamed down Letty’s face as her laughter continued. She had to lean against the mast by Lady Malvis’s side to keep from falling over. The whole situation, everything about it, from the sudden deaths after the capture to the night she’d spent with Martin to the things she was learning about her fellow passengers, was so ludicrous that she was beginning to think she’d drowned in a storm and everything that was happening to her now was just a dream. But the pain in her arm when Lady Malvis elbowed her hard was proof that she was awake and alive, as mad as the world had gone around her.

  “You’re no better than the rest of us,” Lady Malvis hissed. “And what were we all supposed to do? These are pirates. They killed men right in front of us. It was drink the wine and go with them willingly or put up a fight and suffer.”

  Letty’s laughter stopped with a gulp. Lady Malvis might very well have been right. She glanced to the three women huddled on the aft deck. “Were they—” She couldn’t finish the question.

  “No,” Malvis said, her scowl growing. “They refused, but no one touched them. Of course, if that lot had been on the ship last night I believe it would have been a different story.” She nodded to a pair of men whom Letty had seen Martin order to the other ship the night before.

  Once again, Letty marveled at how wise Martin was and how well he knew his crew. “What are they doing here now?” she asked.

  “How should I know?” Malvis snapped, tilting her chin up as though she were the woman of superior breeding once more.

  Letty sighed and stepped away from her, but with a new understanding of the woman she’d hated so much on the journey so far. The high and mighty Lady Malvis Cunningham had spread her legs for a pirate as quickly as Letty had, and if what Lord Ainsley had hinted at was right, she’d done it willingly. Knowing that actually made Letty feel better.

  She wandered farther down the deck, smiling and saying hello to some of the other women and looking for Martin. When she didn’t immediately find him, she decided to go below to see what the lower decks of a pirate ship held.

  She didn’t go far before she found the galley. Two of the women from the merchant ship—wives of the merchants themselves and not of Letty’s class—were hard at work, helping the ship’s cook chop vegetables and stir pots over a pair of stoves.

  “Have you seen Captain Foster?” Letty asked.

  The cook and the two women barely looked up from what they were doing. “Thought I heard him down by the capstan,” the cook said.

  “Oh, right.” Letty nodded, then backed away, not wanting to interfere with their work. She turned and headed back through the dim deck, wondering what a capstan was and where it might be located.

  Her search took her down to a lower, darker deck and through what looked to be a combination of storage and crew hammocks. Within seconds, she was as lost as she was certain Martin was nowhere near. She turned to head back toward the ladder, figuring it was safest to stay above deck until Martin made an appearance to tell her what she should do for the rest of the day. But before she reached the narrow stairs, a pair of deep, suspicious male voices stopped her in her tracks. She darted into the shadows just as the two men came close.

  “This whole thing is a farce, if you ask me.” Letty instantly recognized the voice of Dick, the pirate who had shot Lord Killian. She retreated farther into the dark, until she backed up against the cold, solid metal of a canon. “Racing for what he thinks is a safe, secluded life. Failing to pluck a juicy morsel when it sails right at him. Leniency with the prisoners. It’s a disgrace.”

  “Foster always has been weak,” the second man, whose voice Letty didn’t recognize, said. “He’s no pirate.”

  “I’ll say,” Dick snorted. “He won’t be much of anything soon.”

  “Things are all in place?” the second man asked.

  “As much as they can be. That sniveling whelp of a lord, Killian’s son, thinks he can start an insurrection and win his ship back and save the ladies.”

  The second man laughed derisively.

  “Our men still on The Growler are on the alert,” Dick went on. “Give me twenty-four hours and Foster will be dead and both ships will be mine.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” the second man said.

  The two laughed together, then continued up the ladder and out of Letty’s sight. Letty held her breath, keeping perfectly still, until she was certain they were long gone. Once she was sure, she jumped into motion, scurrying up the ladder as swiftly as she could with her heart pounding in her throat. She had to do something. She had to tell Martin that his life was in danger before anything happened to him.

  Chapter 5

  “Corcoran, what are you doing, man?” Martin shouted, charging from the rail at the edge of the quarterdeck, down to the main deck, and dodging a few of the female prisoners—if they could even be called prisoners, the way they were roaming free—to approach his crewman. “Now is not the time to pay social calls.”

  He grabbed Corcoran’s arm and pulled him away from a Miss Porter, who was smiling entirely too openly at the man.

  “But…but, Captain,” Corcoran protested, glancing longingly over his shoulder at the saucy young woman. When Martin marched him to the far end of the deck and let go, Corcoran continued his protest with, “Didn’t you say we should entertain the ladies to keep their minds off of their situation?”

  Martin pressed his lips together and huffed through his nose. “I meant that you should show them how to repair a sail or clean a rifle or—”

  A gunshot fired exactly on cue with his statement about cleaning rifles. Corcoran jumped, and he and Martin both whipped around to the fo’c’sle, where the shot had been fired. Lady Malvis Cunningham was just lowering a rifle from where she’d had it aimed at nothing out over the sea. One of his officers, Rayburn, stood beside her.

  “Sorry,” she announced as several sets of curses echoed across the decks. “I didn’t mean to pull the trigger.”

  The woman didn’t look half as sorry as her words. Martin could have sworn that she’d been idling away her time by the main mast with her buffoon of a husband just moments before. When she’d followed Rayburn up onto the fo’c’sle and gotten herself a weapon was a mystery. As much of a mystery as why his entire crew seemed to have collectively lost their heads.

  “The women are our prisoners,” he told Corcoran in a firm voice, wishing he could shout it to the rest of his crew. “They should be treated with respect, not giddiness.”

  “Aw, Captain.” Corcoran dropped his shoulders. “It’s just that it’s been months since any of us have seen a woman, let alone entertained one. And what with this voyage being almost over and all.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I, for one, ain’t stayin’ on with Dick when he takes over The Growler, and more than a few of the others don’t want to either. It ain’t just you as what’s retirin’ in a matter of days, Captain.”

  Martin blew out a breath and
rubbed a hand over his face. Corcoran had a point. This was the end of a month’s-long journey for everyone. And they were pirates, not a trained naval crew. He should be grateful that the men had enough discipline left to steer the ship to St. John’s instead of jumping overboard and trying to swim to shore.

  “Very well,” he grumbled. “Do what you will. But we must maintain enough order to make it to shore or else none of us is retiring anywhere but the bottom of the sea.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Corcoran said with a smile, then jogged back over to Miss Porter.

  Martin gritted his teeth and surveyed his ship. He’d never been the sort of disciplinarian that commanded a naval vessel. Or a merchant vessel, for that matter. He’d had enough of a strong hand to keep his men in order, but a good part of him was convinced that was because the men liked him. Most of them, at least. He still wasn’t certain about Dick and his lot.

  Dick was the last person he wanted to think about though, especially knowing he and a handful of the men he’d sent to man The Vixen were crawling around The Growler’s hold with the excuse of transferring goods and supplies between ships. He should have been dogging Dick’s every move instead of having to mind his own crew as though they were children.

  Another gunshot sounded, followed by the squawk of a dying seagull, then a splash several yards to the ship’s starboard.

  “Sorry,” Lady Malvis called out again, then said something unmistakably smug to Rayburn that Martin couldn’t make out.

  Martin rolled his eyes and marched across the deck, mounting the ladder to the fo’c’sle.

  “Are you planning to pay for the shot she’s wasting, Rayburn?” he demanded, approaching the pair.

  “If you’d like, Captain,” Rayburn said with a rakish grin for Lady Malvis. Rayburn was young and handsome, with black hair and tanned skin. His charms were clearly not lost on the aristocratic Lady Malvis. What sort of a name was Malvis anyhow?