To Catch a Pirate Page 3
“He’s in irons and caged. He can’t harm me.”
“It’s not his hurting you that concerns me. It’s his charming you.”
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “I despise the very air he breathes. He’s a pirate!”
“With a reputation among the ladies. I daresay most of the information we gathered on him came from women he’d trifled with.”
“I promise you, Nathaniel. His charms will have no effect upon me.”
She repeated those words as she stood at the top of the steps leading down to the brig. He wouldn’t charm her. She’d almost forgotten what his kiss tasted like, felt like. She only remembered it when she drifted into dreams. Then it became so vivid, so real. To her mortification, she always felt a little thrill. Her life had been filled with gentlemen of the finest quality. James Sterling was like none of them. He was unpolished. A diamond in the rough. A scoundrel. A pirate.
He was the key to returning her father to her.
Holding the lantern high, she carefully descended the narrow steps. They creaked beneath her weight. She heard something scurry. A rat. How was it that they always managed to find their way aboard ships?
The dankness of the brig rose up to assail her nostrils. The flame in the lantern chased away the shadows until she spotted James Sterling squinting up at her from where he sat on the floor in the corner of his cell. There were no luxuries here. Men kept in the brig didn’t deserve them.
He regarded her with insolence. The mouth he’d once pressed against hers wasn’t quite smiling, not quite sneering. His flowing white shirt had seen better days. His unscarred cheek was bruised. He still wore a gold ring through his left earlobe. She’d never known another man to wear an earring. It made him seem all the more wicked. Made her heart hammer all the harder.
She cleared her throat quietly before barking out, “James Sterling.”
He grinned. “You have me at a disadvantage, lass. I don’t know your name.”
“Annalisa Townsend. You may call me Captain Townsend.”
He unfolded his body like a predator preparing to strike. In a smooth motion, he wrapped his hands around the bars and brought himself to his feet, towering over her by at least a foot. She didn’t recall him being that tall.
“So formal,” he fairly purred, “after we’ve been so … intimate.”
“We weren’t intimate.”
“You taste of strawberries. How many lads know that?”
She wanted to slap him. Instead, she could only curse the bars for being in the way, while at the same time being grateful they were. Her bravado was faltering. Facing him in person was much more disconcerting than she’d thought it would be.
“You stole that kiss and my ring. I’ll have it back.”
His grin widened. “By all means, I’d be more than delighted to return the kiss.”
She scowled at him. “I meant the ring, you insolent dog.”
He held up his left hand, examined it, studying the ring that circled the smallest finger. He took a step back. “If you want it, come and get it.”
He seemed to anticipate the challenge far too much. Did he truly think she’d enter the cell? She’d not give him the satisfaction.
She waved his suggestion away. “I’ve decided you can keep it. It’s worthless anyway.”
“So I learned.”
She didn’t know what she expected of him. A little less cockiness. A little fear perhaps. Maybe he didn’t realize exactly what was going on here — or what she wanted him to think was going on. Her marque was forged, after all. Not even Nathaniel knew that. But it had been the only way to give the appearance of legitimacy and get a crew to follow and respect her. Desperation required desperate acts. And lies.
“Are you familiar with New Providence?” she asked.
He simply looked at her.
“It’s in the Bahamas,” she explained, her impatience with him growing.
“I know where it is. I’ve sailed these seas a good many years.”
“I plan to transport you there.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.”
“It’s not an offer. It’s a promise. I take it you’re familiar with the reputation of its royal governor.”
“I understand he is a man who possesses little humor.”
He was attempting to goad her with his nonchalance. She had no plans to be goaded. But her temper was becoming sorely pricked.
“The king has charged him with ridding the area of pirates. Governor Rogers has the power to try, convict, and execute. He has exercised that power quite frequently of late.”
“His mum must be proud.”
“You’re not taking your situation seriously, Mr. Sterling. I intend to deliver you there to stand trial. I shall serve as a witness against your evil deeds, as shall Mr. Northrup. The outcome is inevitable. You’ll no doubt be found guilty of piracy.”
“No doubt.”
“You’ll find yourself dancing the devil’s jig on the gallows.”
“I’ve never been much for dancing.”
She wondered if he realized exactly what she was saying. On the one hand he seemed intelligent, on the other … well, he was stupid enough to become involved with pirating.
“You’ll be hanged,” she stated sternly.
“A rather ghastly way to go, I suspect.”
“Indeed. It is not pretty, nor is it pleasant.” Not that she’d ever actually witnessed a hanging, but she had a vivid imagination.
She gave all that she’d said a moment to sink in, to let him ponder the ramifications of the life he’d led and the destination to which he was sure to arrive.
She cleared her throat. “I have the power to grant you your freedom.”
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. It was evident he didn’t quite trust her. He was smarter than he looked.
“You went to a great deal of trouble and expense to capture me. Why offer me my freedom?”
“I’m not offering you your freedom, but I’m willing to trade you for it.”
He stepped nearer to the bars, his cocky grin back in place. “My freedom for a kiss?”
“You vastly overestimate your charms. Freedom for information — as long as that information bears fruit.”
He narrowed his eyes again. “What information?”
“The whereabouts of the island where Crimson Kelly buries his treasure.”
“Even if you found the island, you’d not find the treasure. Have you not heard how he secures his secrets? By blinding those who help him bury it, leaving them to roam over the island for the rest of their days. They say that when you get near enough to the island you can hear their souls weeping in misery.”
Annalisa shuddered with the thought. She shored up her resolve to get through this en- counter without revealing any squeamishness. “If I can find the island, I can capture Crimson Kelly there when he returns to it. I’ll force him to tell me where he buried the treasure.”
“It’s in the Bahamas. Now set me free.”
He rattled the door, and she despised that the unexpected action startled her. She was striving to be the one in control. Being so easily undone was not a good sign. Touching her mother’s necklace, she gathered courage.
“The Bahamas is a vast area, with more than a hundred uncharted islands. I need more information than that. I need coordinates, longitude and latitude. I need a precise location.”
“Surely you jest.”
“I assure you, Mr. Sterling, on the matter of the treasure entrusted to my father, I never jest.”
“I can’t help you. Crimson Kelly would have my head on a silver platter and my blood poured into his golden goblet.”
“Are you afraid of him?” she taunted.
He laughed. “I fear no man … or woman.”
“Then help me find him.”
“In exchange for my freedom?”
“Yes. I promise you that you will be set free.”
“Do you think me a fool?” he asked. “A promise is easily given. I’ve never known one yet to be kept.”
“I’ll keep mine. You have my word on it.”
“Your word?” He looked to the rafters, then slowly turned in a circle. “Where is it? I don’t see it. It has no substance.”
“Many a thing with substance can’t be seen.”
“And I trust nary a one of them. The same as I don’t trust you.”
The frustration ate at her. How could she convince him? “I owe you. You didn’t kill me or take me captive when you had the chance. I’ll return the favor now, but you must help me find Crimson Kelly.”
“Ferret owed me his life as well, yet he struck a bargain with you quickly enough. You’ll do the same when a better offer comes along.”
“I won’t. I swear —”
“Save your swearin’. I have no interest in promises. Nor have I an interest in helping you.”
“When we reach New Providence it’ll be too late.”
He scoffed. “Like I said. I’m not a fool. It’s already too late.”
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to reconsider. At that time, we’ll decide whether to set course for New Providence or elsewhere.”
He did nothing more than stare at her. Insolent bastard. When she could no longer stand to look at him, she spun on her heel.
“Princess?”
She looked back at him. “I’m not a princess.”
“But you act like one, as though the world is yours to command, and I was put on this earth for no other purpose than to do your bidding.”
“I can’t deny that I consider you beneath me. If I were a boy, I’d spit on you.”
“If you were a boy, I’d have taken your life in the hold.”
A shiver went through her at the utter conviction of his words.
“Is nothing of value to you?” she asked.
“Precious little.” He jerked his head toward her. “Don’t suppose you’d leave the lantern.”
“Afraid of the dark?” she taunted, loathing him more with each passing moment. Had she really thought she had the power to convince him to help her?
“Not fond of the rats. The light keeps them at bay.”
She should leave him in the dark, with the rats. He’d come around more quickly if she did. But she wasn’t as ruthless as he was. Didn’t want to become like him.
She hooked the lantern on a peg near the cell. With one last look at him, she turned and made her way out of the hold. He’d cooperate with her one way or another. If she had to take a cat-o’-nine-tails to his back, he’d cooperate.
* * *
James waited until the door above banged shut. Then he slid down to the floor and awkwardly brought his chained feet closer to his chained wrists. Embedded in the heel of his leather boot was a slender wire, something he kept on hand for emergencies. He’d always known capture was a possibility. He believed in being prepared for anything. Although a few things tonight had certainly taken him by surprise.
He wasn’t limber enough to reach the wire with his teeth, so he used his fingernails to work it free. When he finally had it in hand, he inserted it into the lock on the manacle of his left wrist. He dug it around, listening as the tumblers clinked, right before the manacle snapped open. He quickly opened the other one. If he heard anyone coming, he could put them back on easily enough.
Rubbing his chafed wrists, he glanced around now that he had a bit of light. Wasn’t much to see. A brig was a brig. He could tell by the constant creaking of the ship and its rolling motion that they’d set sail. That surprised him. It seemed he was the only cargo they’d meant to pick up.
The girl coming to see him had taken him off guard. Her offer even more so.
He wasn’t the one she was really after. She wanted Crimson.
It seemed they had a common goal in that, at least.
But he didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him. Grant him his freedom? Not bloody likely.
But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t obtain it. On his own terms.
* * *
Annalisa stood at the prow, staring into the night. It was so incredibly dark on the sea. Sometimes she felt as though it could swallow her whole.
“What did he say?” Nathaniel asked quietly beside her.
She sighed deeply. “He refuses to help. I’ve given him twenty-four hours to reconsider.”
“And if he still refuses?”
“We’ll take him to New Providence, and then I suppose we shall have to redouble our efforts to find Crimson Kelly on the high seas.”
“I suppose we could start the rumor that we have treasure on board. Bring the pirate to us.”
She’d considered that but dismissed it as too dangerous.
“He’s ruthless, Nathaniel. Better we be the ones doing the attacking.”
“As you wish, Captain.”
She glanced over at him. “Will you rename the ship when she’s yours?”
“I will. I shall rename her Annalisa.”
“That’s hardly a name that will strike fear into the hearts of pirates.”
“I care little for their hearts. I care only for yours.”
Suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, she looked back out to sea. She liked Nathaniel. She was able to breathe normally around him. She didn’t grow warm. Her heart didn’t pound. Her lips didn’t tingle. Her knees didn’t grow weak.
She turned back to Nathaniel. “I think I shall retire. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
“Good night, Anna.”
She left him there and made her way to her cabin. She removed her clothes and slipped on her nightgown before climbing into her bunk.
Now that she had captured James Sterling, perhaps at long last she would finally drift into sleep without dreaming about him.
Wearing a blue ball gown, Annalisa crept through the shadowy passageway. At its end was a door. Around its edges was an unnatural glow. That eerie light prevented her from being immersed in total blackness.
The hallway was ominously silent. No sound whatsoever.
Fog swirled at her feet. A chill swept through her as she reached for the door handle. She pressed it. While she heard no click, she knew she’d unlatched the door. She pushed. It opened, beckoning her in.
She stepped through the portal. Her breath caught. Gold. Mounds and mounds of gold, diamonds, emeralds. All spilled at her feet. It sparkled and glittered. Almost blinding her.
Then she saw the most beautiful necklace she’d ever seen. A dozen rubies formed a triangle. She picked it up and secured it around her throat. The red stones lay warm against her chest.
She turned. There was a gilt-framed looking glass. Her gown was low, her shoulders bare. The necklace was gorgeous, with nothing to detract from its beauty.
A slap echoed around her. Crimson flowed from one of the rubies.
Another slap. Another ruby wept and blood trailed over her skin.
Another resounding slap —
Annalisa jerked awake. She pressed her hand to her throat. The only necklace she wore was the one her mother had always worn.
Another slap, muffled by her quarters, sounded.
But she was awake now. The slaps were real.
She clambered out of her bunk and grabbed her wrap. She was the only woman on board a ship full of men, most of them young. When she was above deck, she wore a plain brown dress that left her curves a mystery. Her belt held a light sword and a pistol. Nestled inside her boot was a dagger. She wore her hair in a single braid down her back. The breeze usually worked a few tendrils loose, but not so much that it became bothersome. A ship was not a London ballroom. She dressed appropriately, so she could move about unencumbered and swiftly.
She’d made it a rule never to run about the ship unless she
was properly dressed, but she knew she didn’t have time to worry over such things at the moment.
Another slap filled the air.
It was the only noise on the ship — and that’s what had her tearing out of her quarters. The unnatural silence. As though no man worked. As though no man was even aboard.
She burst through the door that led onto the quarterdeck. Since it was one level up from the main deck, she had a good view of most of the ship. At the far end, men were gathered in a large cluster, but she could see over their heads.
She could see the man with his arms raised high, his wrists tied to the foremast. She could see one of the crewmen, the burliest of the lot — Kane — holding the cat-o’-nine-tails, bringing it back, flicking it forward.
“No!” she shouted.
But he had his momentum, and the nine writhing lashes with their metal tips slapped against James Sterling’s bare back. The man hardly flinched.
“Stop it!” she shouted repeatedly with each step she took as she pushed and shoved her way through the men, trying to reach the middle of the ship.
When she finally made her way to the front of the gathering, Kane stood there breathing heavily, the tips of his whip having left a bloody trail against the planked flooring.
Her pirate had his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. But he made no sound. If it weren’t for the shallow rising and falling of his chest, she’d have thought he was dead.
“Anna, it’s best if you not interfere.”
It was only then that she noticed Nathaniel standing to the side, his hands behind his back. How could he appear so utterly calm, as though he was merely waiting for tea to finish steeping?
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Sterling refuses to help us. He’ll begin each day with a dozen lashes until he is broken —”
“No!”
He took a step nearer to her, a hardness in his eyes that she’d never before seen. “Anna, you have too gentle a heart for what is needed. So now he shall deal with me.”
“I’m captain of this ship. I forbid flogging.”
“Don’t be rash. It’s a common practice to give a man who is disobedient a taste of the cat. Take away that punishment and you’ll have to find another to keep the men in line, lest ye have a mutiny on your hands.”