The Pirate Hunter's Lady

by Jennifer Ashley

  The admiral said nothing. He looked defeated. Diana, on the other hand, sprang to her feet and came to James. “You may leave off bullying my father.”

  “What is going on?” Jack asked. “Ardmore, explain yourself.” He looked primed to call James out if he didn’t like his answers. Damned Englishmen.

  James saw no reason not to tell him. “Admiral Lockwood is working with, against his will or not, a pirate by name of Black Jack Mallory. I’ve been hunting Mallory a while, but he’s always eluded me. I suspected he used an island in this area for a base, and I finally got information that it was one called Haven, the property of Admiral Lockwood. It took me a long time to find it, but finally, I managed to pinpoint its exact location. Shipwrecking on it was unintentional.”

  “Why didn’t you simply inquire at the Admiralty?” Jack asked, puzzled. “They’d know about Haven, would they not? Presumably they’d want to be informed about pirate activities involving it.”

  “The Admiralty is a little reluctant to hand me information.”

  “Why should they be?”

  “Because he is James Ardmore,” Diana said in ringing tones. “Wanted by the British for numerous crimes against the navy. The captain is a legend, or a notorious criminal, depending on who is telling the tale.”

  Jack said, “I see.”

  The room went quiet. The fire popped once, and the wind, still fresh from the storm, sighed in the chimney.

  Lieutenant Jack looked James up and down without expression then turned to Lockwood. “Do you mind explaining why you did not tell me he was a criminal? Why he is allowed to roam freely here, alone with me, or Isabeau, or Diana?”

  “Because,” Lockwood said, “I trusted him.”

  Jack looked at James and said conversationally, “Tell me why you were on the frigate with me.”

  Jack sounded quiet, yet stern, just like a damned aristocrat. Probably he was one. They all spoke with that air of authority, that certainty that they were right. Even James’s old rival, Grayson Finley, a pirate turned viscount, had that annoying, masterful manner.

  “I was a prisoner on the frigate,” James said. “I was helping out some American smugglers on my way here when we were caught. Your ship was heading for Gibraltar to take me to the garrison there.”

  Jack watched him quietly. “Is this why you refused to tell me the name of my ship? And my own name?”

  His eyes held contained fury. James’s information might have triggered some of his memories, he knew. James withholding that information was a betrayal, even greater than the revelation that he was a criminal in the eyes of the English.

  “The ship was the Constantine. That help?”

  Jack paused a moment, then shook his head. “I do not remember it. What about my own name?” He looked at James without heat.

  “I don’t know,” James said. “I swear that. You never came off the quarterdeck until the storm, and I never heard the captain address you by name. Your captain was called Christianson, but I don’t know anything else.”

  Jack stared at him a moment longer, then looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” James said. The words hurt his throat. He so rarely apologized to anyone. Hadn’t in fact, in about a decade.

  The admiral broke in. “Perhaps, Diana, you should go to bed.”

  James hid a snort. The man could not possibly believe his daughter would bow her head and tamely scuttle away.

  “I want to hear this, Father,” Diana answered. “Is James right about this Mallory person?”

  Lockwood studied the carpet. “He is right.” He raised his silver head and directed a glance of fury at James. “I hardly wished to be exposed in front of my daughter. Could you not have spoken of this to me when we were private yesterday?”

  “I wasn’t certain yesterday. And Diana was adamant that you should face me. She wanted to prove me wrong, you see.”

  Diana’s eyes flashed. “Do not dare blame this on me, James.”

  “I’m not blaming you, darlin’. I’m blaming me. I ought to have left you tied up in the boat, or locked in your room from the start. I had no idea you’d try to climb down the caves in the pitch dark.”

  Lockwood looked momentarily pained, as though he’d long tried to dissuade his daughter from risky endeavors, without success.

  “Be that as it may,” Lieutenant Jack interrupted. “We all know now.” His face was set, hard, but cool. He had to be an aristocrat. They all had that look of supreme self-confidence, even in the face of stupid odds. “Who is this Black Jack Mallory?”

  “A violent criminal,” James said. “He’s an Englishman, started off plundering French and American ships, then was sanctioned by the English government as a privateer. As the admiral knows, the English have always been happy to blockade and board American ships, something I take high objection to.”

  Lockwood looked annoyed, Diana troubled, Jack patiently waiting for information. James went on, “Privateers are encouraged to raid in the name of British sovereignty. But some of them, like Mallory, like plundering a little too much. So Mallory decided to go off on his own again and plunder whoever he wanted. The English are after him now as well as America and France and any other country you care to name.” James looked at Lockwood. “I find it unbelievable you let him anywhere near your daughter.”

  Lockwood’s face suffused with anger, but Lieutenant Jack broke in. “I imagine the admiral did not let this Mallory do anything.”

  Diana’s expression turned worried. “Did he threaten you, Papa? You ought to have told me.”

  “Stop!” Lockwood snapped. “If you will let me speak, I will tell you. Mallory never threatened me. I helped him willingly.”

  “Willingly?” James asked in surprise. “The man is a murderer.”

  “Not any longer, James. He came to me in desperation, and I helped him. I owed him a favor.”

  James’s anger tasted like burned copper. “He rapes and murders women. For the enjoyment of it. Remember me mentioning a pirate who slit a woman open from throat to crotch because she didn’t cooperate? Well, the pirate I was talking about is Black Jack Mallory.”

  The admiral’s lips were pinched. “I’ll thank you not speak of such things in front of my daughter.”

  “She has a perfect right to know what company her father keeps.”

  Diana was staring at James, not in anger or in anguish, but with a slightly puzzled expression, as though she were fitting pieces together.

  “He is no longer who he was, James,” Lockwood said. “He saved my life during a battle off the coast of France. We’d lost two ships of the line, and my frigate was the last against most of the French fleet. And then Mallory came sailing up. He joined the fray, and when I was lost overboard, he pulled me out of the water. He told me he was patriotic enough not to want to see the French get the better of brave English vessels. He helped us and the crew of the other two ships get away. When Mallory sought me again a few years ago, he was ill and wretched, and I could not turn him away.”

  “He played upon your sense of honor.”

  “If you like. I knew what Mallory was. I’m not a fool. He needed help, and I gave it to him, to repay what he’d done for me.”

  James’s anger burned afresh. “By letting him use your island to store his plunder? I found it all, despite the best efforts of you and your daughter.”

  “Much of it is old,” Lockwood said. “He’d used this island before as a bolt hole. Haven belongs to my family, but after Diana married and before I retired, it stood deserted for several years. Mallory has toyed with the idea from time to time that he will turn merchant and sell the things, but he knows no one would deal with him.”

  Diana said nothing. She only stared at her father, mouth closed. Most unusual for her.

  “When is he due to return?” Lieutenant Jack asked.

  Lockwood looked away and didn’t answer.

  “Mallory can tell you he’s reformed all he wants, Admiral,” James said. “That doesn’t erase his c
rimes.”

  Lockwood’s eyes, the same color as Diana’s, held intelligence. “I know,” he said.

  “When Mallory comes back, he’ll find me here,” James said. “And then I’ll decide what I want to do.”

  “You cannot confront him,” Lockwood said quickly.

  “I can and I will.”

  Diana gave a laugh, rising from her chair. “This from a man who insisted to me that he was not a legend. Do you believe you can single-handedly stand against this formidable pirate? Without your ship and your expert crew?”

  “I know Mallory,” James said. “I know his habits. I’ve hunted him for a long time.”

  “And you found Haven,” Diana said. “Do not tell me that you planned to wreck in that frigate and wash up on our shore.”

  “No. That was luck. I’m just making the most of it.”

  “You lied to me — to us,” Diana said, her fists clenched. “You have lied from beginning to end.”

  “So did you, Diana. You and your father.”

  Diana had the grace to look ashamed. Another silence fell. Outside, the last vestiges of the storm sent a tree limb scraping against the glass.

  After a time, Diana said lightly, “I believe Lieutenant Jack is the only honest one among us.”

  Jack shrugged. “Only because I don’t remember enough to lie about. But we have a more immediate problem. Your pirate will be coming back to find that James has destroyed his plunder. What are we going to do about it?”

  James shot him a grateful glance. “I like a man who can keep to the point. I will meet Mallory when he comes. With or without your help, Admiral.”

  “Have you given me a choice?” Lockwood asked.

  “Yes.” James gave him a cold smile. “You can take Diana and Isabeau and sail far from here. He will know I forced you away, and that you did not betray him.”

  Lockwood glared at him again. He, Diana, and Lieutenant Jack were all on their feet, all angry at each other and at him. Good. Anger made a man — or woman — stronger than did sorrow. Sorrow would come later.

  James knew that when he lay in bed alone tonight, without Diana, sorrow would come pretty hard.

  There was nothing more to be said. James said a curt good night and walked out of the room without asking leave of the admiral or of Diana. He could only be a gentleman so far.

  *** *** ***

  The next day, Diana lifted a teacake from the plate beside her and hurled it at James’s head as James walked into the morning room.

  James caught the cake in midair. “What was that for?”

  “Just keeping in practice,” Diana answered, lips tight. “Where is my father?”

  James took a bite of the cake. “With Lieutenant Jack and Jessup. They’re making repairs to the gig.”

  “Why are you not with them?”

  “Because they don’t much like me today. And I wanted to talk to you.”

  “If you intend to ask me to forgive you, know that I will not. So do not bother.”

  “I wasn’t going to as for your forgiveness.”

  “Good,” Diana said. She peered up at him. “Why not?”

  James set the teacake onto a little plate and poured coffee for himself. “I haven’t done anything I want your forgiveness for.”

  Hot words tumbled to Diana’s lips. Before she could speak, James put down the coffee pot and hauled her to her feet. “Come out and walk with me.”

  Diana tried to resist, but she knew resisting James was mostly useless. He simply pulled her along.

  In the garden, Isabeau looked up from where she was helping Mrs. Pringle pick spring beans. She jumped up and signed hopefully, “Walk?”

  Diana held out her hand. “Come along, Isabeau,” she said brightly. “May I borrow her, Mrs. Pringle?”

  Mrs. Pringle flashed white teeth in her tanned face. “She’s been a good help today.”

  Diana’s heart beat faster as Isabeau clasped her hand and danced a little at her mother’s side. What a coward I am. She remembered what James had said to her the day he’d found the dry caves, Don’t hide behind her. She doesn’t deserve that.

  Isabeau wanted to climb the steep path behind the house to the highest place on the island, a flat space of overgrown rock which had a panoramic view of the island and surrounding sea. James did not release Diana’s hand until the three of them had scrambled up and stood atop the summit.

  Isabeau climbed onto a black boulder and peered out to the ocean. James joined her, pulling a spyglass from his pocket and lifting it to his eye.

  The day was fine and clear, the breeze clean, the storm long dispersed. White puffs of cloud floated in the sky, and the air was as warm as early summer. The sea was blue, and Diana saw frolicking dolphins in the distance. Idyllic.

  James stood silhouetted with his spyglass against the brilliant sky. The sight of his tall, hard body, coat unbuttoned, pulled at her. She remembered his muscled chest pressing her back last night in her bed, while his large, scarred hands pleasured her. That feeling would not go away.

  Diana’s emotions were mixed, confused. She was angry, but not at James.

  Well, not entirely at James. She was annoyed not only that he’d lied to her, but that he’d so easily succeeded at seducing her. But her father came in for a fair share of the anger in her heart.

  “He ought to have told me,” Diana said before she could stop herself.

  James lowered the glass and looked at her. He had power in his body, even standing still. Having that strength at her back, with his arms around her, had been heavenly.

  “Fathers like to protect their daughters,” James said. “They also don’t want to look shameful.”

  “Perhaps, but I do not like the way you bullied him. Why could you not leave well enough alone? My father would not even speak to me this morning.”

  James’s eyes went cool. “If I leave well enough alone, your father will continue to be Mallory’s slave. Mallory might have claimed to your father that he reformed, but he likely plans to murder your father when he’s done using him. You’re not stupid, Diana. You know it could happen.”

  “Yes,” she said, worry chasing her anger.

  “With Mallory, it’s a certainty. He’s done much worse.”

  Isabeau tugged on James’s coat. He looked down at the little girl, and once again, Diana saw James transform from the hardened pirate hunter to a man who, unused to children, was surprised and pleased that one liked him.

  The little wretch simply wanted her grandfather’s spyglass. James handed it to her with grave reverence. Isabeau put it to her eye in a practiced way and turned to focus on the far horizon.

  “I ran away to Haven to find peace,” Diana said. “Instead, I found you. Or you found us. I believe God brought you here as a fine joke.”

  “If he hadn’t brought me, I’d have found my own way,” James said.

  “I think all the legends about you have gone to your head. You believe you can do anything.”

  “Not anything.” James stood far too close, his body less than an arm’s length away. “Just what I’m best at.”

  “Plaguing the life out of me?”

  “I enjoy it.” James’s look turned warm. “I believe you enjoy it, too.”

  His unnerving gaze saw right through her. It made Diana remember his hands on her in the dark of her bed chamber. He knew it did. “You are a conceited, foul-hearted, bas — ”

  James touched his fingers to Diana’s mouth. “In front of your daughter? I’m betting she can read her mama’s lips.” He gave her his rare smile. “And fine lips they are.”

  The smile made his eyes so warm. To others he gave cool assessment, but Diana had been allowed glimpses of the man inside the legend.

  Diana darted a hasty glance at Isabeau. The little girl was still staring out to sea through the glass, humming a tune in her throat.

  James said, “You have beautiful lips, Diana.”

  “I know,” she answered. “I’ve had poems written about them
. And an ode to my eyebrows.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  He stopped. For a moment, Diana thought he would laugh, but James merely stared at her.

  “I could imagine far better things to write an ode to than your eyebrows. For instance . . .” James brushed his palm over her bosom, cupping her breast fleetingly before letting his hand drop.

  Diana swallowed. “The poetry was not very good.”

  “I can understand why you ran off out here. I would too, if I kept hearing bad poetry about my eyebrows.” James’s amusement faded. “They didn’t appreciate you, Diana.” He brushed her cheek. “I appreciate everything about you. I hope to make you understand that.”

  His touch drew fire. He was strong, and every time he touched her, Diana felt strong too. She wanted to hate him for exposing her father, for bringing forth that worried light in her father’s eyes.

  But Diana had seen what James had kept locked in his trunk on the Argonaut, had read the diary that had belonged to his brother, had seen James’s face when he’d found her reading it.

  Diana knew why he’d tracked Black Jack Mallory to Haven. She now knew why James had been helping the smugglers who’d been sailing near Haven’s whereabouts, even understood why he’d given himself up to the capturing English frigate without a struggle. There’d been a chance that the frigate would sail near or even call at Haven, and then James could make his escape . . .

  James was here not because of Admiral Lockwood and his blockade running, or because of Diana, or because of Haven. He was here for of Black Jack Mallory. He was hunting, and Haven was his hunter’s blind.

  Diana was hopelessly smitten with James, but she understood now that he’d never completely lose himself in her. He was too complex a man for that, too many things drove him.

  He’d never demanded to know why she’d been so frightened when he’d offered to take her to bed. James had watched her speculatively but never broached her privacy to ask.

  Diana did not know how to tell him that if he wanted to play as they had on her bed, she wouldn’t mind. She’d learn all his games, as long as she was in no danger of conceiving again. She’d made a brutal mess of her first go at motherhood. God knew what she’d do the second time.