Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap

by Maggie Dallen

  Minerva could find no reason to refuse, and so she allowed Roger to draw her onto the dance floor as the music swelled. Between her sisters and the ladies from town, there were plenty of women here, but still not enough to dance with every officer. Her sisters would be exhausted from dancing by the end of it all.

  Rebecca whirled past, clearly not exhausted yet as she tipped her head back to laugh at whatever the young officer was telling her.

  Minerva did not laugh. Roger barely spoke.

  Their shared silence was...comfortable, she told herself.

  Excitement wasn’t everything. There was something to be said for comfort and loyalty.

  Yes, loyalty. That was what she wanted. That was what she aimed to be. Loyal. Level-headed. Practical.

  Everything her mother was not.

  While her mouth remained shut, her eyes moved, her gaze flitting over the crowd, ignoring the new arrivals in favor of the townspeople. The officers and the store owners. Anyone who could have been behind the smuggling.

  While she knew that their plan could fail—word could not have spread the way they’d hoped, her criminal might not be as desperate as Marcus believed, or they may have hired someone else to do their bidding—Minerva was still alert and ready, watching everyone as well as she could.

  For what? She wasn’t quite certain. Perhaps a look of tension or a sudden disappearance?

  “Are you searching for someone in particular, Minerva?” Roger’s amiable voice had her gaze darting up to meet his.

  “No, no,” she said quickly. “Just taking it all in, I suppose.”

  Roger’s smile was sweet and tender. “You and your sisters have outdone yourselves tonight.”

  Her answering smile felt tepid. “It was mostly Rebecca’s doing,” she said.

  His arms around her tightened. “You are too modest.”

  I’m really not. She merely continued to smile. Protesting would only prolong his compliments, and they were decidedly undeserved. Rebecca was the mastermind behind all party planning, while Abigail and Hattie were happy to help. Even Sally was helpful with the manual labor involved, helping to put up decorations or unloading the crates of refreshments.

  As for Minerva...?

  Well, she cavorted with pirates.

  Pirate hunters.

  Privateers?

  Whichever title Marcus was going by, it changed nothing. He changed nothing. For he would be gone by dawn if all went according to plan.

  Her feet stumbled as her stomach pitched as though she was on a dinghy at sea during a storm.

  “Minnie, are you all right?” Roger asked, his handsome features creased with concern.

  “Yes, of course,” she managed. For a long moment, she studied him, wishing that the sight of his affectionate gaze made her warm, that the sound of his voice made her heart swell.

  She desperately wished that his arms about her might feel like home. Why couldn’t she want this? Want him?

  Why, even now, did she yearn to race down the shoreline and to the cave where he would be waiting?

  Because he personified excitement, she told herself. Because he offered adventure.

  She dipped her head down, temporarily unable to catch her breath as she let Roger guide her through the steps.

  Lies. She was telling herself lies.

  She’d never been much good at lying, and never to herself.

  Yes, she loved the excitement he’d brought into her life, and there was no doubt that she craved the adventure that he’d offered. But that wasn’t why she wanted to see him again. They were not the reasons her heart ached at the thought of him leaving without her, and they weren’t what made her feel as though her heart might rip in two if she were to never again see those laughing eyes, never hear him tease...

  This is madness.

  She couldn’t argue the voice of reason there. It was utter madness.

  But it was real.

  The feelings he’d stirred in her chest, the way her body physically responded to his proximity as if they recognized one another from another life, another time. She shut her eyes against the onslaught of thoughts and sensations as she recognized the truth.

  She had feelings for him. Maybe even...loved him.

  It was madness and it was insanity. And it was the truth.

  She gulped, no longer even trying to keep up the pretense that she was fine, because she was not fine. She stared down at her feet as the world spun around her.

  She’d found a man who saw her, who saw every part of her, and he loved what he saw. He was the same as her in some way that she could not name. And he understood something in her that she’d dared never address. Had never so much as wished to acknowledge because all it seemed to bring was heartache and grief.

  It was the part of her she’d inherited from her mother. The part that had always seemed so wrong. So off.

  But Marcus did not think so.

  He seemed to think she was perfect, flaws and all.

  She shook her head. But he did not know her. Not really.

  But I should like to know you.

  His words echoed in her ears even as she tried to shut them out.

  He might want to get to know her, but she did not know him. Tears pooled in her eyes even as a smile tugged at her lips. But I should like to know him. Very much.

  She lifted her head to see that Roger was not paying attention to her, thank goodness. She was not certain how she would hide her tears if he were to glance down. If he were to look at her...to see her. But he wouldn’t truly see her.

  He never had.

  But Marcus saw her, and he liked what he saw, and he wanted her to go with him.

  And he would leave without her.

  She would have to let him go.

  The thought was sobering, and her heart felt as though it might be crushed as Roger spun her in endless circles.

  “Now where is he going?” Roger mused idly, but the question brought her back to the moment with a start.

  “Who?” she asked, following his gaze toward a back entrance that was nearly hidden by a worn and faded tapestry.

  “Eddleston.” Roger’s voice held that tolerant amusement that he so often used with her, though this time that paternal indulgence seemed aimed at Eddleston.

  How did she know that name again?

  That was right. He was the one who’d heard her shouts the night before at the caves. Her feet stumbled over the steps. What had he been doing out there that night? Even if he’d been patrolling the coast, the odds of a guard passing at just the right moment to hear her shout were slim.

  Her brows drew together as she saw the tall young man glance back once as if to ascertain he wasn’t being followed before slipping out the doorway.

  He could have been on patrol, of course.

  Or...he could have sent out the cry once he’d been scared off from meeting with Marcus himself because he’d heard her in there. Or maybe even seen her with his own eyes if he’d gotten close enough.

  What better way to avoid suspicion than to be the one who sounded the alarm?

  Her heart lodged in her throat as she resisted the urge to leap out of Roger’s arms and chase after the younger man herself.

  Marcus will catch him, she reminded herself. He and Caleb would be waiting for the smuggler at the cave, and all would be well just as soon as they got their answers.

  She nibbled on her lip. But would Eddleston talk to them or would he be too frightened?

  Minerva did not know the young officer well, but well enough to know that he was little more than a boy. He’d be terrified of Marcus and Caleb; perhaps someone else was behind the smuggling—someone from this town who scared him even more.

  “Minnie, are you all right?” Roger asked again. “I’ll keep asking, you know, until you tell me what’s really going on.”

  “Oh yes, fine.” Her smile felt absurd, but she was glad to note it was wide and cheerful, and Roger smiled in return.

  “Just excited, I suppose,�
�� she babbled. “I’ve never heard the earl speak before.” She glanced over at the crowd of lords and ladies in finery far nicer than anything one would typically see in Billingham. The nobility stood near the raised stage where the musicians performed, gathering, no doubt, in preparation for the toasts to come.

  She glanced up to see Roger following her gaze, his eyes trained on the area before the stage. Relief flooded her veins. If he stared at her for too long, she could only imagine what he might see.

  Excitement was too weak a word for this heart-pounding sensation, or the way her limbs seemed to vibrate with a new alertness.

  Danger, her pulse seemed to say. Adventure is nigh.

  She glanced toward that back doorway as the music began to ebb, a handsome young gentleman near the stage turning as if to mount the steps.

  Any minute now, the toasts would begin, and the trap would be set.

  Oh, how she wished she could see it unravel, this plan they’d concocted.

  As the music came to an end, Roger led her back to the refreshments where Abigail was waiting, her eyes bright with excitement. “This is it, is it not?”

  Minerva couldn’t answer because Roger stood between them. “Minnie, my dear, you are shivering.”

  Minerva blinked. Was she? Yes. Though technically she supposed she was trembling from excitement as the dancing had left her cheeks flushed with heat, and adrenaline had her muscles tensed and ready for action.

  “I shall fetch your wrap, shall I?” Roger’s kind features were filled with concern.

  She did not need a wrap but if it meant having a moment alone to think, she’d take it. She smiled. “That would be wonderful; thank you, Roger.”

  “Well?” Abigail hissed the moment Roger departed. “Have you seen anything suspicious?”

  If Minerva wasn’t mistaken, Abigail seemed just as enervated as she was with all the excitement. “Yes,” she said, her attention temporarily caught by the sound of the nobleman who had started to speak from the stage. She could not bring herself to pay attention to a single word.

  “I believe Eddleston is our man,” she whispered.

  “Eddleston?” Abigail’s lower lip came out in a pout. “But he’s such a nice boy.”

  Minerva lifted a shoulder. “Even nice boys can be convinced to do wrong deeds for the right price.”

  Abigail sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Minerva’s gaze was still on the back door. Realistically, she knew that it was very possible the boy had merely slipped out to relieve himself or some such nonsense. But the timing of his sudden departure, and the way he’d glanced back...

  Her eyes narrowed on the door. His entire demeanor had been far too furtive for his exit to have been entirely innocent.

  She had no doubt that Marcus would catch him, but wasn’t it possible they might need her help interrogating the boy?

  She bit her lip. Interrogation. Just the word made her wary on the boy’s behalf. And the thought of that giant brute Caleb manhandling the boy...

  She shivered and cast a glance in the direction Roger had gone off for her wrap.

  “I could help them,” she muttered. “I could get answers more efficiently than those men, I guarantee it.”

  “Go on, then,” Abigail urged.

  Minerva widened her eyes in surprise, but her sister was already nudging her toward the door. “I don’t like the idea of poor Eddleston alone with those men. Go help him.”

  Minerva blinked in shock. Yes, she was desperate to intervene, but she never thought she’d see the day her younger sister was urging her toward danger. “But Roger will be returning and—”

  “I can handle Roger.” Abigail straightened and Minerva wasn’t certain she’d ever seen her sister so determined. “I’m certain I can come up with some excuse to keep him occupied while you’re gone, just...” She glanced warily toward the door where Eddleston had disappeared. “Go help him.”

  Minerva nodded, her shock fading and resolve taking its place. As she headed toward the door, all eyes in the place seemed to be focused on the earl; all she had to do was keep her head down and slip through the crowd.

  Oddly enough, once she was in motion, her body calmed. Even her heart seemed to settle into a fierce, steady rhythm as if this was what she had been built for. Action. Movement. Her head cleared as well as the path before her and she slid easily through the crowd as she thought through what she might say to the boy to make him turn on whatever villain was behind this.

  What sort of villain would involve such a young boy in their criminal activities?

  Without so much as a glance behind her, Minerva followed in the younger boy’s footsteps, out through a darkened hallway that led to steep steps down to the shore.

  No one was out here and the sudden silence after all the voices inside was deafening. The sound of the crashing waves below seemed to call to her, welcoming her as she made her way down the steps, lifting her skirts so she would not trip, and cursing the fact that she was once again destroying a pair of pretty silk slippers. The cold from the wet stones beneath her feet made her chilled all the way through.

  Perhaps she ought to have waited for Roger to bring her wrap, after all. No sooner had she thought it when she slipped on the wet stones, her feet sliding out from beneath her on the last steps near the shore until—

  Oof.

  She landed nicely. Comfortably, even. She glanced up at familiar laughing eyes.

  “Well, look who it is,” Marcus said, his voice little more than a rumble.

  “I thought you might need help.” Her voice sounded stilted as she felt his arms close around her.

  She ought to struggle, she supposed, but oddly enough she was quite comfortable where she was. In his arms. She gave herself all of one heartbeat to enjoy it. To savor the feel of his breath on her cheek, the warmth of his body surrounding hers... And then she returned to reality.

  “I saw him leave,” she whispered.

  His brows drew down.

  “Eddleston.” She craned her neck as though she might see him standing somewhere near. “I know he came out here,” she said.

  Marcus’s arms tightened. “I didn’t see anyone but you come down this way but perhaps he went overhead.” He nodded up toward the cliff’s edge.

  Minerva nibbled on her bottom lip. She supposed it was possible he’d gone that way. “Please,” she said, one of her hands coming to his chest. “He’s just a young boy. Let me speak with him before you...”

  She shook her head as she trailed off; his lips quirked up on one side in a lopsided grin that made her head spin. “What? Eat the boy alive?” he teased. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

  “I hardly know you at all,” she shot back. But even as she said it, it felt like a lie.

  His gaze grew serious. “Don’t you?”

  Her hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it moved over the hard planes of his chest, over his shoulder. She found herself toying with the hair at the nape of his neck as he growled low and close to her ear. “I am not giving up on you so easily, you know.”

  “No?” She pressed her lips together. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. She’d meant to say that he should. That it was useless to keep up this flirtation when he had to leave and she had to stay here.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said before.” His nose grazed the outer shell of her ear as he spoke, and she shivered at the soft, intimate contact.

  “What did I say?”

  She felt his lips curve up in a grin and his breath tickled the sensitive skin on her neck. “Oh, Min, if wanting you to come away with me is selfish, then I am a selfish cad,” he said. The words seemed to be torn out of his throat. “And if you want me to stay then I am even more selfish because I will do it.”

  She pulled back. “But your family. Your secrets.”

  He gave his head a shake, frustration clear in his eyes and so very relatable that she felt it in her soul. Wants versus needs versus duty. “I can
take precautions,” he said. “I can be careful.”

  She gazed into his eyes and her heart stopped. He meant it. He would do that, just to be with her, but she could see the agony there as well—the moral conundrum of placing his loved ones in harm’s way.

  He would do that for her...and it would kill him.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. And all so she could stay here, with her father who did not understand her, and her sisters who no longer needed her. The thought had her dropping her head onto his shoulder, tears pricking the back of her eyes.

  Her heart felt as though it was breaking because there seemed to be no right answer. Would it be selfish to go?

  Yes. Of course.

  But it would be even more selfish to ask him to stay. Of that, she was certain. She lifted her head and met his gaze. “I could not ask you to do that.”

  He opened his mouth but she lifted a hand to his lips to stop him. “You would not be able to live with yourself if you placed your family in harm’s way.”

  He looked as if he might protest but then his shoulders fell, and he let out a rough exhale.

  She dropped her hand. “I am right, aren’t I?”

  His smile was sad, and it made her heart clench in her chest. “And you say you don’t know me,” he chided.

  Her answering smile was bittersweet. “I know that you place your loved ones above all else, just like I do.”

  His answer was a grunt of acknowledgement. “So where does this leave us?”

  “Back where we started, I’m afraid,” she said, her voice lighter than she felt. Lighter than she could ever feel again, she suspected. “You must leave, and I must stay.”

  As she said it, her fingers clenched his collar as if she could make him stay or hold on so tight that he might take her with him.

  Traitorous body.

  Rebellious heart.

  “I don’t want to let you go.” His voice was little more than a growl and she shivered, clamping her mouth shut to keep from saying something silly. Then don’t.

  She shifted. “I came out here for a reason, you know.”

  He nodded, a sigh making his chest rise and fall against her side. “I suppose you expect me to set you down now.”

  His mock irritation made her smile. “It would be easier to catch the smuggler with the use of my own two feet.”