“Any criminal activity that might be going on does not concern you, my dear,” Roger said. He wrapped an arm around her once more. “Now, let’s get you home, and I will return to my men to investigate whatever is in that cave.”
“But—”
“I assure you that if your pirate is anywhere nearby, he will be found.” Roger’s tone was reassuring, and yet...Minerva did not feel assured at all.
“But—”
“He’s no doubt long gone by now, my dear,” Roger continued over her protest. “He must have slipped away in a rowboat the moment he saw my men coming.”
She frowned down at the dark ground beneath her feet. That was probably true.
And for the best, no doubt. No one wanted pirates on their shores.
Her sodden, ruined slippers kicked at the dirt beneath her feet as she allowed Roger to lead her home. At the doorway, he stopped, and she reached for the handle. “But Father should know—”
“I will tell him all in the morning,” Roger said. “No need to wake him from his sleep. Now, you go on inside like a good girl. I’ll be by first thing to fill him in on everything.”
She nodded, turning the door handle and heading inside. She could not shake the feeling of discontent. It wasn’t over. Her big grand adventure with a pirate. It could not just...be over. Could it?
Roger reached a hand out, touching her arm softly when she turned to thank him for his help and bid him goodnight. “It’s over now, Minnie. Rest easy, darling.”
She smiled at his term of endearment and because she felt it was expected. Minnie. She bit her lip to stop herself from telling him that while she did not mind Min, Minnie was a name she rather abhorred.
But there would be time for all that later. She forced another smile, one of gratitude, she hoped. “Goodnight, Roger.” She shut the door behind her, listening to the oh-so-familiar sound of her sisters getting ready for bed themselves overhead, and her father’s snores coming from the living area where he no doubt would stay for the remainder of the night.
Minerva let her head fall back against the door.
“Min, is that you?” Rebecca called from the top of the stairs.
“Yes, I’ll be up soon.” Minerva exchanged a few more words with Abigail, reassuring her as well that she was home safely and that they could all head to bed without worry.
Minerva stood there for a long while. She needed some peace to think over what had happened so she’d wait. Just until her sisters were in bed. Even better, until they were asleep. She did not wish to answer their questions about where she’d been or what she’d seen.
She shut her eyes as a smile grew, despite the sinking sensation in her middle.
She’d met a pirate. She laughed softly. A real, honest-to-goodness pirate. She gave her head a little shake as she tried to remember every detail.
Oddly enough, the detail that was most vivid was his smile when he’d first started his approach. She’d frozen in place, not so much out of fear, but out of shock.
She’d expected gruff, perhaps even brutal. But who on earth would have guessed that a pirate could be so congenial?
She bit her lip to keep that smile from growing into a grin. Before she could stop herself, a snicker escaped, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Really. Running into a pirate was no laughing matter. And yet...
Another laugh bubbled up at the thought of his expression when he’d finally seen that she was a woman.
And then another laugh escaped as she remembered his groan when her fist had found its mark. His look of surprise, and pain, and...admiration.
Her smile faded with a sigh as she gave her head a shake. She should not be so delighted by this. By any of it.
It was over, she told herself as she pushed away from the door and headed toward the stairs leading to her room. Roger was right. Her pirate was undoubtedly long gone by now.
She took a deep cleansing breath as she settled into bed and tried her best to let sleep take hold.
It was too bad, really.
She would have liked to see him caught.
Minerva didn’t wake until the sun was high over the horizon. She sat up with a jolt, confused and befuddled as she realized that she was alone in her room.
Abigail had already dressed and gone downstairs.
Minerva blinked sleep away as she reached for her clothes. Lessons would be underway soon enough. And no one had thought to wake her?
She did a hasty job of dressing and did little more than smooth a hand over her braid before dashing down the steps.
She’d overslept because she’d been up half the night reliving every second of her adventure. No, her terror, she mentally amended.
But now...oh now, she really must speak to her father before he left for the fort. Had Roger come yet? Had she missed everything?
It was a mix of terror and excitement that had her rushing past her sisters in the dining room, ignoring Abigail’s offer to make her a plate and Sally’s questions about where she’d disappeared to last night.
She would deal with her sisters later. But first, she had to speak to Father. He had to know about the pirate on his shores. Perhaps more importantly, or at least more selfishly, she truly needed him to understand that she hadn’t intended to find a pirate.
She cringed as she imagined her father’s fear on her behalf. His worry that she truly was her mother’s daughter, too driven by the lure of the sea and adventure than her own common sense.
She stopped short before the door, straightening her skirts and drawing in a deep breath.
It wasn’t true, of course. She was nothing like her mother. Her mother had been selfish—choosing her passions over her family. A mistake Minerva would never repeat.
With one last deep gulp of air, she knocked gently and then pushed open the door leading to her father’s office. She strode in quickly before she lost her nerve. “Father, I need to tell you what I discovered last night.”
Her father stood up from behind his desk, his eyes wide. “Minerva, what are you—”
“I need you to hear it from me first, Father. You see, last night, quite unwittingly, I happened upon—”
“A pirate,” her father said. “Yes. I know.”
His expression was too calm. Not a hint of the anger she’d expected and also...he knew? “But—”
“Our visitor was just filling me in on all your mischief last night.”
Visitor. She blinked at her father as he gestured toward the door which she had just barged through, but she kept her gaze on her father to try and gauge his reaction.
Roger. Oh, drat. Roger had beaten her to it.
She turned slowly to face the man who would be her suitor but paused in the act, her body twisting oddly as she froze as surely as though she were a statue in a museum.
Him.
No. She blinked. It couldn’t be.
But it was.
Even with his hair combed and his beard neatly trimmed, there was no denying that it was he.
It was her pirate.
“B-but—that is—”
“Minerva, meet Mr. Haversaw,” her father said.
The pirate smiled. If there was any doubt left in her mind, that smile did away with it. She would never forget that smile, not in a million years.
She blinked rapidly as if that might help her mind to function. All it did was make her even more certain that what she was seeing was, in fact, the pirate.
“But he’s a pirate,” she said.
The pirate’s smile grew. “On the contrary, Miss Jones. I am not. Legally speaking, I am—”
“A privateer,” her father finished. His tone was curt, his voice sharp. Whether it was because he was not fond of privateers or because he was angry with her remained to be seen.
A privateer. She weighed the word. Still a pirate, just one with the crown’s permission.
Her scowl of disdain no doubt matched her father’s. He’d raised her and her sisters to know just how close
privateers were to crossing the line. Little more than criminals, her father was known to say.
“You’re a...but you...you cannot....” She stopped and wet her lips, trying to organize her thoughts.
“Indeed.” His tone was earnest, but she caught the amusement in his eyes. He was laughing at her.
She pressed her lips together to hold her tongue.
He shrugged, his smile easy. “I’ve provided your father with my letter of marque and I assure you that I am not the dreaded pirate you believe me to be.”
“Then why...how...?” Oh, drat. She couldn’t seem to form a sentence for the life of her. She whirled around to face her father, her heart pounding more frantically now than it had back in the cave. “You believe him?”
He held up a sheaf of papers. “He has the proof, Minerva.”
There was so much unspoken in her father’s gaze—so much disappointment she couldn’t bear to look at him a moment longer.
She dropped her eyes, fixing her attention on the floor at his feet. “But last night—”
“Yes,” her father drawled. “I heard all about last night. First from Roger, and now from this...gentleman.”
The way he paused made it clear he’d had another term in mind. One likely much harsher than ‘gentleman.’
“Just so,” the pirate agreed. “I was telling your father how clever you were last night.”
Her father let out a huff of disapproval but the pirate—or rather, Mr. Haversaw—continued as if he had not heard. “If we had more watchful, curious ladies like you living along the shores of this country, perhaps we wouldn’t have need for men like me.”
She turned to scowl at the man. He was being condescending, and that, she could not bear. She drew in a breath to tell him just what she thought of him and his tactics, but she stopped short at the gleam of admiration in his eyes. Her lips parted and her eyes widened. He was being sincere.
All thoughts fled as his gaze met and held hers. That smile that had caught her so off guard the night before was no less affecting now.
Her stomach flipped even as her heart fluttered like a butterfly in her chest. “But what was a privateer doing in my cave?”
My cave. She caught herself too late and bit her lip as Mr. Haversaw’s eyes seemed to glow with laughter.
“I’m afraid I am not allowed to divulge that information just yet,” Mr. Haversaw said slowly. His gaze held hers so intently that her breath hitched in her throat and her muscles tensed. She had the most ridiculous notion that he was trying to tell her something. Or that he wished to tell her something. That he wanted to say more. She took a step closer, but her father’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Do not encourage her silly behavior, Mr. Haversaw. Minerva was foolhardy,” her father said, his voice filled with the anger she knew was coming.
She winced at his words.
“She could have been injured,” he continued.
“But I wasn’t, Father,” she said, so quietly she suspected her father hadn’t even heard.
“She acted impulsively and without thought,” her father continued. “But I assure you, it will not happen again.”
She clamped her mouth shut, his words coming down around her as surely as bars on a prison cell.
No. After this adventure, she would be watched like a hawk. Under even more scrutiny than she already was, of that she was certain. There was no way around it.
“On the contrary,” Mr. Haversaw said, his gaze never leaving hers. “I commend your daughter’s bravery. Not many young ladies have such courage.”
Her chest swelled with pride and a warmth like she’d never known flooded through her veins at the praise. At the recognition.
Even so, she was well aware of her father’s disapproval. Bravery. Courage. Mr. Haversaw might as well have applauded her sense of adventure and been done with it. To her father’s mind, it all meant the same thing.
She was careless. Foolish. Selfish.
Just like her mother.
Never mind the fact that it was he who’d taught her to use her fists to defend herself. Where a blow should be aimed and how to duck and dodge to avoid being struck.
But then, those lessons he’d given her and her sisters had only been so they could defend themselves if the need should arise. Not so they could seek out pirates in hidden caves late at night.
Mr. Haversaw’s gaze seemed to spark with understanding as he added, “I admire her greatly.” He shifted his gaze to her father. “You must be very proud.”
Her father gave a grunt of acknowledgement. “Well, Mr. Haversaw, as I said. You will have our full cooperation in this matter. No one wishes to oust potential smugglers and thieves more than me and my men.”
Mr. Haversaw gave a short bow. “I appreciate your assistance. But for now, if you and your daughter could keep my name and position to yourselves, even from your most trusted men, Captain Jones, I would very much appreciate it.”
“Hmph.” Her father’s response was noncommittal at best, but Mr. Haversaw seemed to accept it as a yes.
“Now.” He turned his attention to Minerva, and she felt the full force of his gaze as though an anchor had landed on her chest. “Your father was just telling me about the upcoming ball you and your sisters will be hosting at the fort.”
“Yes,” she said, pulling her mind away from all the questions she wished to ask. She was acutely aware of his eyes on her, as well as the accusatory glare coming from her father.
“Is it open to all, then?” he asked. “Will the townsfolk be welcome? Merchants and the lot?”
She blinked in surprise at the question, but she nodded. “Yes, this will be the largest event of the season. All are welcome.” Her lips curved up a bit in the face of his charming smile, and she added, “Even you, Mr. Haversaw.”
His answering grin made her bones melt. Silly and ridiculous, but true. She feared she might melt into a puddle at the full force of his charm, at the spark in his eyes that said he’d be quick to find the humor in anything.
He’d be the first to embrace danger. Adventure.
She couldn’t seem to stop her answering smile.
Something formed between them, knitting them together in a way Minerva had not expected. An understanding of sorts, even if she did still worry he was lying. There was more to this man, more to his plans, than he was letting on.
Why on earth would a privateer be posing as a pirate on their shores? It didn’t make any sense.
She had to find out. There was no question about that. She could not abide not knowing.
Her father’s voice cut into her thoughts. “If you mean to attend this ball to keep an eye on those you suspect, Mr. Haversaw, I will not stop you. However, I beg you to use more caution than you did with your last scheme.”
Minerva flinched on Mr. Haversaw’s behalf with that last word. Schemes were, in her father’s opinion, right up there alongside adventures in terms of whimsical nonsense to be avoided.
Mr. Haversaw’s gaze never wavered from hers as her father continued talking about the upcoming ball, taking the opportunity to brag, just a bit, about the planned festivities. “We expect everyone in town to be in attendance,” he said, his nose in the air. “In addition to the townsfolk and my men, we’ll be hosting nearby gentry and their guests. I imagine there will be several lords and ladies visiting our little fort.”
Mr. Haversaw was good. She would give him that. If she hadn’t been watching him so very closely she would have missed the flare of alarm that shot through his gaze like lightning. It was there and gone in an instant, but she caught it.
Her eyes narrowed as she took in every detail of this devilishly handsome pirate. No, privateer. Oh, drat. Whatever he was, she was onto him.
“Lords and ladies?” he inquired mildly.
Too mildly.
“Indeed,” her father said. She didn’t turn around, but she didn’t need to in order to know that Father was no longer paying much attention. Papers shuffled and his
chair scraped the floor as he went back to work. “The Earl of Elwood and his family are staying at their country homes at the moment and are always looking for a diversion this time of year.”
Minerva, her back still turned to her father, could only imagine the derision in her father’s expression, which would surely match his tone. Her father did not care much for diversions of any kind.
“Is that so?” Mr. Haversaw once again spoke far too casually, but the new tension in his shoulders belied his tone.
“Well, then I suppose I had best prepare my finest suit,” he said, that laughter back in his voice and his eyes as he gave her a little bow.
She eyed that mischievous smile, the wicked gleam in his eyes.
Oh, yes. He might have her father fooled, but she wasn’t the least bit taken by his charms.
Even with those papers, she’d bet her life on it.
This man was a rogue.
Chapter 5
Marcus sank back in his seat at the local tavern. He reached for the ale that had been set before him with a heavy sigh.
Now he was done for.
One last job, he’d said. One last mission and then it would all be over.
He took a long swig of ale in order to cut off any more sighs. He’d never been one to sigh and moan, and today was no exception—no matter how unfortunate his luck.
How simple it had sounded at the time. He should have known that any mission that brought him to the shores of his home country would surely lead to trouble.
He’d let a room at the adjoining inn and had nothing to do now but stew on his troubles. He wasn’t typically one to stew, but he was willing to make an exception today. This last assignment just kept getting worse and worse.
It had seemed so easy a month ago, when he and his men had first gotten wind of the new pirate ring and the smuggling operations they’d established on these shores. And now...? Well, if he believed in superstitious nonsense, he’d say that this last mission was cursed.
Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap Page 4