Beautiful Tempest

by Johanna Lindsey

  “I’m afraid our captain is a bit too young to have been the planter Lady Reeves’s daughter eloped with.”

  “No, no, I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort. I was just surprised to recognize the name. But you’re right, Captain Reeves wouldn’t be any relation a’tall to the East Sussex Reeveses, and besides, the planter wouldn’t take his wife’s name, now would he?”

  Jeremy chuckled. “Highly doubtful, but then you can’t discount pirates coming from upper-crust English families, either.”

  “Course not, point being your father—”

  “Percy . . . ,” Jeremy cut in warningly.

  Percival delivered a soft snort. “I don’t know why you still deny—well, I do know why, because you think I’ll blabber it all over London, but—”

  “Was it ever confirmed for you?”

  “No,” Percy grumbled.

  “Then stop guessing over something that’s such an old rumor. Why don’t you help me figure out what’s wrong with this crew instead.”

  “Wrong? Well, they’re pirates, that’s wrong enough, ain’t it?”

  “But I don’t think they all are, and that’s what’s odd. That group who beat me down on Wapping Street were definitely the hardened sort, but listening at the door when the crew comes and goes from their quarters, it appears some of them aren’t pirates a’tall, just typical sailors. And the first mate and captain are clearly not ordinary sailors themselves, might even be gentlemen.”

  “Oh! You mean from East Sussex?”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I concede that could be possible, since the Reeves family probably had other children, even grandchildren, cousins, nephews, et cetera, at least more’n one disowned or dead child.”

  “Don’t know. Didn’t know them personally.”

  “Percy, it’s irrelevant where the captain and his mate come from. They could be royal bastards for all I care. My point is that it’s clear the pirates don’t like or trust their captain, so we should figure out how to use this fissure in the crew to free ourselves and Jack.”

  Chapter Twenty

  JACQUELINE WAS RUDELY AWAKENED by two of the crew who were talking to each other quite loudly, as if they hadn’t noticed she was still sleeping.

  She gasped when she opened her eyes and saw that one of them was standing next to her cot staring down at her. A fearsome-looking pirate, he had a jagged scar running from cheek to ear on the left side of his face. Giving her a lopsided grin, he at least moved away from her now that she was awake. It didn’t diminish her unease, which rose instead when she sat up, holding the blanket up to her neck, and realized Bastard wasn’t in the cabin. She was alone with these two pirates. Had she slept all morning? She shouldn’t have, not when she’d fallen asleep so quickly last night after her exhausting swim. If Mort had come back last night as Bastard had warned her, she hadn’t heard it.

  Indignation overwhelmed her when she saw the other pirate examining the clothes she’d hung on the chairs the night before. “Get away from my clothes. I assure you they won’t fit you.”

  The scarred-cheek pirate laughed at his friend’s red face. She didn’t care. But she couldn’t get out of bed with the pirates in the room. She noticed that the door was wide-open. A thoughtless mistake on their part? Or was there a guard out there again?

  Her shoulders slumped when she saw a man’s arm wave across the opening as whoever was out there stretched, likely bored with his duty. So she glanced about the room as she wondered why Bastard wasn’t in it.

  The drapes had been drawn open to let in the morning sun, and a tray of food was on the table. But nothing explained why two pirates were loitering in the room with her. If she was to have in-room guards now as well as one at the door, something must be amiss. With Bastard? If his wound was worse than he’d let on and he’d collapsed, they’d tell her, wouldn’t they? Maybe not.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked.

  “Changing the cap’n’s bedding,” the embarrassed one said belatedly, heading to the bed to do that.

  “We are?” The other one looked confused.

  “Get o’er here and help,” his friend ordered.

  She watched them for a moment yanking at the sheets before she raised her brow and asked the man in an amused tone, “So he has servants now?”

  They both glanced at her at once, though only for a second before getting back to their supposed task, although Scar Face mumbled, “Not bleeding likely.”

  The other volunteered, “We help as needed, and just now it is. The captain doesn’t need to be doing this in his condition—thanks to you.”

  “He probably won’t appreciate your babying him just because of a little wound.” Jack shrugged carelessly. “But make sure you tell him you changed his bedding. I don’t want him to think I did it. Does he even know you’re in here?”

  At least one of them revealed a little nervousness at her guess, but it was nothing compared to the near panic he displayed when Bastard walked in. The captain was more than a little angry as he approached both men. One man made a wide circle around him and bolted out of the room. Scar Face backed away more slowly. He appeared more annoyed than afraid that he’d gotten caught.

  “You know you aren’t allowed in my cabin.” A furious undertone was in Bastard’s voice. “And how did you get in?”

  “Followed the boy in with the food.”

  “If it happens again, you’ll think Catherine’s paramour had it lightly.”

  “No need for threats like that.” The pirate displayed a little wariness now. “We just wanted to make sure you didn’t damage the hellcat what stabbed you last night. Protecting our interests is all.”

  “Next time ask. Get out.”

  Bastard’s anger didn’t dissipate as the second pirate vacated the cabin. Jacqueline was fascinated by what she was witnessing. Not only was Bastard bare chested, his jaw was hardened, his shoulders tensed, and he was flexing the muscles in his arms as if he were itching to inflict mayhem on the pirates. She blushed a little, but only because his leaving his cabin like that, exposing the bloody bandage wrapped around his torso, let his whole crew see exactly what she’d done to him, if they hadn’t already been told about it.

  When his eyes moved to her, she saw the stormy expression in them. Sitting there with the blanket held up to her neck, she was hesitant to say anything because she wasn’t at all familiar with this side of the man. But as he stared at her, his anger seemed to ease, and finally the tension left his body, too.

  He crossed back to the door and closed it, telling her, “My men won’t bother you again, but if anyone other than Mort or my cabin boy enters the cabin when I’m not here, you have my permission to raise hell.”

  “As in?”

  “Scream really loud until I show up.”

  She raised a brow. “How many times do I get to cry wolf before it doesn’t work anymore?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You don’t think I’ll do it just to see you come running?”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid, no.”

  “But it would be interesting!”

  He gave her a hard look, but it wasn’t the least bit intimidating after what she’d just witnessed. He seemed more like the man she knew, which meant she could resume her usual goading.

  She did wonder why a degree of disgust had been in his voice when he’d called those two pirates “my men,” but she merely pointed out, “Your crewmen don’t seem very happy to take orders from you. Why is that?”

  “They’re new” was all he said as he went to his desk, but he shook his head as he passed the dining table. “Your food is cold.”

  “My maid wasn’t here to wake me,” she quipped.

  “I suppose I can fill that position for the duration.”

  Was he joking? She saw his grin as he sat down behind his desk. Carefully. Now all she could see above the desk were his handsome face and wide bare chest. Why the devil hadn’t he put a shirt on? She hadn’t shredded them ye
t, so he could have. She would have gotten up to get one and throw it at him, but preferred not to expose her bare legs to him. But she simply couldn’t stop staring at him. With muscles like that, no wonder he’d always found it so easy to restrain her.

  She finally got her mind and eyes off his chest and arms and asked, “Should you even be out of bed yet?”

  “The sawbones didn’t say I shouldn’t leave it.” He shrugged.

  “He should have, or is he not a real doctor?”

  “Of course he’s not a real doctor. His misnomer should have given you that clue. He’s good at chopping off limbs, but I doubt much else. How bad do you think this wound is?”

  “Obviously not bad enough,” she hissed.

  He was staring at her too intently, so she glanced at the table and wondered about making a run for it so she could get dressed. But he yelled toward the door, “Mr. Barker, have Jack—well, I suppose we’ll need to call your brother Jackie for the duration—bring my guest another tray.”

  “I can eat cold food,” Jacqueline said loudly enough for the guard to hear, though she still stared at her nemesis. “So don’t do me any favors.”

  “I do you all sorts of favors. You’re just usually too angry to notice.”

  She had no clue what he meant by that, but she gave up waiting for some privacy and shot off the cot to retrieve the clothing she’d spread around his chairs last night. She only blushed a little when she picked up her underclothes and realized they were what that pirate had been inspecting.

  “You look adorable this morning, wearing my shirt.”

  She crossed back to the cot. “Did you buy this one for me?”

  “No, I confess I like that color.”

  Pink used to be a fashionable color for men, but that had been decades ago when bright satin jackets and knee-high britches were the choices of dandies, the more gaudy the better. Today men were much more staid in their dress. She was sure she’d laugh if she saw Bastard wearing the pink shirt. And since she’d rather he not think he amused her in any way, she decided not to give it back.

  Laying her clothes on the cot, she reached for the rose brocade skirt, only to feel that it was still damp. She had decided on the sturdy traveling suit for the rendezvous for one reason, because even her day dresses were a little too fancy and she hadn’t wanted the Mask, or as she’d hoped, Bastard, to think she was trying to impress him. Why couldn’t that meeting have gone her way instead of his?

  But she wasn’t surprised that the heavier brocade hadn’t fully dried yet, so she just put on her white petticoat. Made of fine batiste layered with only minimal puffing, each row bordered with a strip of white satin and dotted with tiny blue bows, it had been her hidden concession to elegance for the ensemble. Now it was no longer hidden.

  She started to reach for her drawers next, but drew her hand back. She’d rather not give Bastard another performance for his amusement. She could wait until he left the room to put on the underclothes, so she unbuttoned the lower half of his long shirt and tied the lower edges around her waist. There, she was presentable and decent for the moment, even if her feet were bare.

  “Nicely done.”

  If she liked the man, she would have given him a jesting curtsy for that remark. She ignored him instead and took her skirt back to the chair so it could continue to dry.

  She took a deep breath. “I want to see my men today.”

  “I just saw them. You Malorys are all alike. Your brother tried to kill me.”

  “He’s not my—” she started, but then smirked. “Is that why you’re bleeding again?”

  “No, I was armed, he wasn’t, so it didn’t come to a scuffle.”

  “I still want to see—”

  “Then come here.” He patted his lap. “Let’s see how persuasive you can be.” Her immediate glare had him add, “No? Then settle for knowing they’re still breathing, and if you behave, you might get to visit them eventually.”

  Behave? Or just not try to kill him again? It was infuriating that he’d drop crumbs that he knew damn well she wouldn’t pick up when he probably had no intention of ever letting her see Jeremy. Why would he? He was a bloody pirate!

  Done with teasing her, he scolded, “You know you never would have made it to land last night. It was barely still in sight when you jumped. Do you realize the great distance you would have had to swim?”

  “Another ship could have come along.” She sat down in a chair facing him.

  “That would have been an incredible long shot. You were just a speck in the water, Jack. Even if a ship sailed past you, chances are the people aboard wouldn’t have noticed you even during the day, and certainly not at night. And dawn was a long way off.”

  “If you’re expecting thanks for bringing me back, don’t hold your breath.”

  His brows rose. “So you were willing to give up your life for your father?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “But was that really your plan?”

  She wished now she’d taken a seat that didn’t face him. But she didn’t have to answer. She didn’t have to keep staring at those beautiful eyes, either, but she did.

  She held her tongue waiting for him to press her, but he didn’t. So she was surprised to hear herself say, “I’m a good swimmer. I had every intention of succeeding.”

  “Good to know that at least you aren’t fatally resigned, so I suppose we can simply agree to disagree on the outcome. But tell me, why didn’t you try to bargain with me first? You did before. Untold riches was your promise, wasn’t it, if I betrayed the pirate for you?”

  She snorted. “It didn’t work last time, so why waste my breath?”

  “But you haven’t even tried seducing me to your side, another option that wouldn’t require you to risk your life.”

  Seduce him? Why the devil would he say that? He knew how much she hated him. But then she’d never been nice to him, not once, had only wanted to kill or hurt him whenever she got close enough to do so. She had no idea how trying to be nice to him would play out other than to make him suspicious since he knew her druthers fairly well. Yet it was still a tempting thought—seducing him to her side, not by bedding him, but by just making him think she might. She might even be able to convince him to take her home. No, how could she when she wouldn’t be able to resist punching him if she got that close. . . .

  The cabin boy arrived with her second breakfast tray. He was a skinny lad about her height, with reddish-brown hair and freckles. He looked far too nervous, possibly because he knew, as everyone else did by now, that she’d stabbed his captain. She hoped she hadn’t hurt the boy yesterday when she’d shoved him out of the way for her aborted leap for the railing. She gazed briefly at his britches, wishing she had a pair.

  Bastard stood up to leave, telling the boy, “Keep an eye on Jack.”

  Jacqueline waited until the door closed behind him before she said, “Jack Barker, is it?”

  “He wants you to call me Jackie.”

  “No, he wants everyone else to call you that to avoid confusion, but you and I will still call each other Jack. Are you from London?”

  “Aye, but newly come from Reading in Berkshire with my brother Tom. He wanted to go to sea, has been hankering for it for years, he has, but he was reluctant to leave me behind, since he’s all I got now, after our pa died. So he looked for a ship that would take us both on, and this one did. But I don’t know much about being a cabin boy, well, not even a thing.”

  “Shall I tell you a secret, Jack? My mother was a cabin boy once.”

  His eyes got so wide, she laughed, but he asked, “Did her captain know she was a she?”

  “He did, but she didn’t know he did. It was amusing how that played out, to hear them tell it. But my point is that you don’t need any prior experience for this job. You’ll be told what needs to be done, so just follow orders as they’re given and you’ll do fine. And it’s just”—she started to say Bastard, but she didn’t want the boy to mimic her dispara
gement, which would get him in trouble, so she corrected herself—“the captain you need to be concerned with. Don’t ignore small jobs others might give you if they see you idle, but don’t let them interfere with something the captain wants done. He comes first for you, and you probably will want to keep busy. I know I would.”

  He started to fix the mess the pirates had made of Bastard’s bed. “You’d want to be a cabin boy like your mum?”

  “Goodness, no.” She chuckled. “But I hate being idle, and there isn’t much that I don’t know how to do on a ship, thanks to my father and four uncles, all of whom captain their own ships. Come to think of it, you might consider asking some of the crew to teach you their jobs when you’re not busy—that is, if you like sailing and aren’t hankering to get back to land now that you’ve tried it.”

  “I like it. Didn’t think I would, but I do.”

  “That’s good, considering this ship is not about to turn back. Now, before you rush off to attend your captain, you might be able to help me with something.”

  He blanched. “I can’t let you out of here. That was growled in my ear by the first mate.”

  “No, no, I wouldn’t get another Jack in trouble, I promise you that. I was just hoping you might have an extra pair of britches I could borrow?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  JACQUELINE WAS SITTING WITH her feet up on Bastard’s desk.

  Her legs crossed, simply because she could since he wasn’t there. And why the deuce wasn’t he? Other than his brief visit that morning, he’d left her alone the entire day. When he ought to have spent the day in bed to let his wound heal. When she was beyond bored. When she might have flown at him with her nails if he had come in before she calmed down.

  It hadn’t been easy to force herself out of the frenzy she’d worked herself into after four hours of pacing and thinking of how badly she’d failed at getting herself, Jeremy, and Percy off a pirate ship heading for the Caribbean and how frantic with worry her mother must be by now. But it wouldn’t be too much longer before she had company of one sort or another. Her growling belly convinced her of that.