A Pirate of her Own

by Kinley MacGregor

  “It’s not like you to drink with a storm brewing,” Jake said as he reached for the bottle of rum next to Morgan’s elbow.

  “Who says I’m drinking?”

  Cocking an amused brow, Jake held the half-full bottle up before the flame. “I guess the bottle drank itself.”

  Morgan said nothing, instead he stared at a black spot on a board just over Jake’s head.

  “You know, Drake, I seem to recall this impertinent young pup who once told me that problems shared are problems solved.”

  Morgan had never been one to appreciate hearing his words flung back at him. Especially not by the infamous pirate king, Jack Rhys. “And I seem to recall a surly pirate telling me to mind my own business or I’d find myself gutted.”

  Jake laughed and poured himself a liberal amount of rum. “Careful with that word, lest Barney hear it. If anyone finds out who I am, I’ll be in a worse fix than you. Which leads me to my next question. What do you plan to do about Hayes?”

  “What I should have done years ago.”

  “Kill him?” Jake asked in all seriousness.

  Morgan smirked at the pirate’s answer for everything. “Confront him.”

  Jake expelled a snarling breath before curling his lip in disgust. “Since when do you take the sissy way out?”

  “Excuse me?” Morgan asked, infuriated by the insult.

  Jake laughed good-naturedly, dispelling Morgan’s anger. “Face it, Drake, that good English breeding of yours is showing itself. Talking ain’t a man’s way of doing things. You know that. You got a problem, you cut its heart out and then it’s not a problem anymore.”

  “Last time I checked, following that philosophy is what has you one step away from the gallows. Forgive me if I don’t take your advice.”

  Jake shrugged off Morgan’s words. “You, my friend, have come a long way from the piss ’n’ vinegar youth who used to try my patience. But then, you were always too honest for your own good.

  “By the way,” Jake said before taking a swig of rum. “I’m sorry for getting you mixed up with that wench.”

  Morgan snorted. “What possessed you to take her hostage?”

  Jake shrugged again. “You ought to be grateful. My first impulse was—”

  “To cut her throat.”

  “Exactly.”

  Morgan rolled his eyes. Tolerance had never been a strong point for Jake, and it seemed not even these last years away from the sea had managed to mellow him any. “Just answer me one question. How did Lorelei ever survive long enough for you to marry her?”

  Jake guffawed loudly. “What can I say, she puts up a good fight.” He downed the last of his rum. He laced his hands behind his head and sat back with a satisfied smirk. “And she handles a sword better than most men.”

  Morgan laughed, remembering Lorelei’s intrepid spirit as she stood toe-to-toe with the surly pirate.

  But who would expect less from the granddaughter of the infamous pirates, Anne Bonny and Calico Jack?

  “You must be mellowing with age,” Morgan said at last.

  Snorting, Jake poured himself another mug of rum. “I think it’s too many years of being around you.” He eyed Morgan keenly. “So, what do you plan to do with her?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered with a sigh. “In all honesty, Jake, I have so many problems right now, I don’t know where one ends and the next begins.”

  Jake gave a knowing nod. “You’re thinking of Penelope?”

  Morgan sighed. “Aye,” he said. He could never hide his thoughts from Jake. “I keep thinking that I’m no better than Winston.”

  Jake’s gaze hardened. “What, are you daft? How do you figure that?”

  “We’ve ruined Serenity every bit as much as Winston ruined my sister.”

  Jake frowned. “Last I checked, we weren’t planning on selling Serenity to a wh—”

  “Don’t you say it!” Morgan snarled.

  Jake held his hands up in truce. “I’m sorry, Drake. I know how much you loved her.”

  And Jake did. If any man alive knew how much Morgan Drake’s sister had meant to him, it was Jake. Jake had helped Morgan track her down and it’d been Jake who’d paid to free her from the bordello she’d been sold to.

  “You know,” Morgan said, scratching his chin in thought. “I was actually thinking we might be able to turn this around with Hayes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, this time of year, he usually heads toward the Caribbean to try and roust some of our good brethren from their winter homes. If we were to head that way, we might be able to cross paths with him.”

  Jake took a deep swig of rum. “You know there’s nothing more I’d like than to see that bastard dead. But you go after him and the Brits will raise their price.”

  “Aye, but maybe the next person will think twice before coming after me.”

  Jake snorted. “Leave him be, Morgan. You got more important things to attend.”

  “Such as?”

  “For starters, you can buy Lorelei a new dress from one of those expensive London designers. She’ll have my head when she finds out I let your woman have that flimsy pink thing she’s been asking for.”

  “Serenity is not my woman. You’re the one who trapped her here.”

  “Yeah, well, if I had a woman on board my ship, I wouldn’t be down here making love to a bottle of rum. I’d be up there showing her the better part of my sex.”

  Morgan placed his finger above his brow and traced a line that ran the same length and shape as the scar above Jake’s brow. A scar Lorelei had delivered during one of their numerous and notorious fights. “I think I’ll spare myself the grief.”

  Jake laughed. “I assure you, Drake, I thoroughly enjoyed earning that scar. And it was certainly worth every stitch.”

  With that, Jake took his leave, and Morgan noticed the bottle of rum took its leave as well. Same old Black Jack, he thought with a smile.

  Some things never changed.

  Morgan sat quietly, thinking over Jake’s words. And the fact that Serenity was only a few yards away, no doubt tucked safely in his bed.

  In his bed.

  Would the insults never cease?

  Serenity came awake to the sound of rain tapping lightly against the windows. Opening her eyes, she watched the drops run down the thick panes of clear glass.

  The ship!

  “Oh no,” she gasped, realizing in that instant that the night before hadn’t been a nightmare.

  Well, okay, maybe nightmare wasn’t the right word. The point was: It all had really happened.

  She was ruined.

  By now her father would have been up for hours

  and was no doubt scouring Savannah looking for her. He had no idea where she was, or when she would return.

  “Oh no,” she repeated.

  The permanence of her predicament hit her like a shot. This was really it. There was never any going back to the life she had lived before.

  Serenity prayed for courage and strength to face her future—to face the stinging gossipmongers who would follow her for the rest of her life. Even now, she could hear the vicious comments made about Chatty.

  That’s the James girl there. She’s the one they caught kissing that young boy down at the lake. Little harlot. That’s what happens when a woman starts talking social reforms for women. Benjamin should have taken a strap to his wife and never let her fill her daughters’ heads with such tripe. I pity that poor man, left behind to cope with the mess his wife left him.

  How many times had she heard a variation of that story? And how many more times in her life would she hear the new one?

  That be the poor James girl there. She done run off with pirates in the middle of the night….

  She had brought it on herself, and it would haunt her forever.

  Serenity pushed herself out of bed and quickly dressed. There was no need in moping around and bemoaning her fate. She had chosen this course and it was time to follow it
wherever it led.

  And right now her rumbling stomach wanted it to lead to a kitchen somewhere. She unlocked the door and tripped over a lump.

  Only, it wasn’t a lump.

  The Sea Wolf had slept at her door.

  Morgan came awake with a curse and a mouthful of pink silk. A sudden sharp pain stabbed his side as limbs and silk engulfed him.

  “What the devil?” he asked. His hand brushed up against something warm and velvety. Something that felt incredibly good against his palm.

  “Captain Drake, remove your hand from my thigh this instant!”

  It was a wonderful wake-up surprise to find the woman he was dreaming of sprawled in his arms. Serenity’s outraged voice brought a rakish grin to his face. Before he could curb the impulse, Morgan ran his hand over the cool silk stocking, along the sensuous curve of her leg, feeling the supple muscles and delicate softness. But what he really wanted to do was cup the inside of her leg, especially the soft, warm juncture of her thighs.

  What he wouldn’t give to trail his lips over the soft flesh. To peel back those stockings and…

  “Captain Drake!” she shouted, shoving the hem of the dress down over his hand and forcing him to withdraw it. Her cheeks were flaming red. “Release me.”

  “I believe you are the one holding me down, Miss James.”

  Not that he minded. With Serenity lying atop him, he was tangled in her skirts and enjoying the press of her breasts against his chest as she struggled to right herself, all the while choking on indignation.

  His grin widened. Oh, her outrage was delightful. He knew his smile infuriated her, which amused him all the more.

  With one sharp elbow in his side, she pushed herself to her feet. “You are the devil!” she snapped, turning about in a huff.

  Morgan’s laugh rumbled deep in his throat as he rose to his own feet and watched her head for the main deck. “You’re wrong, Serenity James,” he whispered. “Were I the devil, you wouldn’t have gotten away so easily.”

  Serenity didn’t slow her pace until she saw Barney shouting orders up to a crewman in the crow’s nest.

  “Excuse me, Mister…” she paused as she realized she didn’t know his last name, and calling him “Barney” seemed just a little too forward.

  “Pitkern,” he supplied for her. “They call me Mr. Pitkern, lass. Now what can I do for you?”

  It was then that she noticed the crewmen had all stopped their labors and were now staring straight at her. The two men behind Barney had stopped scrubbing the railings and water dripped from their sponges. Even their bawdy singing had ceased.

  The ship was as silent as the dead of night, and only the snapping of the rigging and cries of birds broke the sudden stillness.

  The hair on the back of her neck raised. This was not good. Not good at all!

  Morgan paused at the top of the deck and noted the reactions of his men as they became aware of her presence. It didn’t bode particularly well. A woman on board a ship was exactly what Serenity had said, a recipe for disaster.

  With purposeful strides, he crossed the deck to where she stood.

  “Men,” he called, shifting their attention away from her pale form. “We have a guest for our trip. Miss James is a lady of decent temperament and is to be accorded respect. Any man who fails to show her anything less will have me to deal with.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  He turned to face her. “I should have dressed

  you like a powder monkey,” Morgan said in a low tone, his voice strained.

  “I beg your pardon?” she asked.

  “He means like one of the boys in charge of fetching powder for the cannons during a fight, Miss James,” Barney explained for her.

  Serenity thanked the man before she looked back at Morgan. “Need I remind you, Captain. I was dressed like a powder monkey.”

  “And you still managed to get into trouble.”

  By the look on her face, he could tell she longed to argue, but she knew he was right, and that alone must have been what kept her silent.

  Morgan rubbed his rib cage. “Now tell me what was so important that you almost punctured my lung with your foot to come out here?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “What were you doing on the floor outside my room?”

  “That happens to be my room.”

  “Not until I’m returned home.”

  Morgan took a deep breath. Why was he arguing with her? And why over something so stupid? It wasn’t like him to even care about such matters.

  “Where were you going?” he asked again, not wanting to investigate his feelings any further.

  “I was going for food, if you must know. I happen to be hungry. Now tell me why you were outside my door.”

  “A man has to sleep sometime, Miss James, and on a ship a man makes his bunk wherever he can find space.”

  “Aren’t there guest quarters, or…”

  “This is a warship, Miss James, not a passenger ship.”

  “But what about the other sailors? Don’t they have beds?”

  “They make pallets or string up hammocks wherever they can. And I’m not beast enough to oust poor Barney from his room. He needs it to keep his bird happy.”

  She looked around at the men who surrounded her, performing numerous duties.

  Morgan could see the confusion on her face. “It’s not the glamorous life you wrote about in your story,” Morgan said, softening his tone. “Life at sea is hard. And often deadly.”

  “Then why do you do it?”

  “Because we love it.”

  She arched a brow. “A glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

  Morgan laughed low in his throat as he swept his gaze over her trim figure and remembered just how good her thigh had felt in his hand. Aye, he was definitely a glutton for punishment.

  Too bad she didn’t know just how true her words were.

  “I’ve been accused of worse.” He moved back from her. “Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the galley.”

  Without another word, she followed him back below deck.

  The galley was a large room with a huge cast iron stove. A bald, surly man stood making bread at a wooden table while he barked orders to a young boy of about fourteen who hustled around the room.

  “I said to fetch more flour, boy! I’ll be needing it before the winter season is upon us.”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy breathed, rushing over to a barrel and pulling out a cup of flour.

  Morgan cleared his throat and the middle-aged man looked up from his task with a sour frown. It instantly changed when he recognized Morgan. “Need some bread to break the fast, Captain?”

  Morgan turned to her. “What would you care for, Miss James?”

  The cook’s ominous frown now turned her way. Deciding an omelet and bacon would probably strain the man’s already weak patience, she shrugged. “Bread and cheese will be fine,” she said.

  “Court,” the cook snapped to the boy. “Get the captain’s woman what she wants.”

  Stunned by his words, Serenity stuttered. “Um…I’m not his woman.”

  “Well, you needn’t sound so offended,” Morgan said beneath his breath.

  Bemused, Serenity caught the twinge of anger in his eyes. “So I am your woman?” she asked.

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “It’s what you implied.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It’s not?” she asked in wide-eyed innocence.

  Scratching his neck in discomfort, he ground his teeth. “You cross-examine like a bloody solicitor.”

  Pleased with herself, Serenity smiled. Why she enjoyed his discomfiture she didn’t know, but one thing was certain, she loved every minute of harassing him.

  Court came forward with her food and a cup of milk. “The milk’s fresh, me lady,” he said with a heavy Cockney accent.

  Serenity smiled her gratitude. “Thank you, but I’m not a lady.”

  “Aye, mum, but
you certainly ain’t a tart.”

  Serenity was somewhat stunned by his words. How many tarts had the young boy known?

  “We need to talk,” Morgan said, pulling at her elbow.

  Without another word, she returned with him to his cabin. Primly she took her food to his table and sat down to eat.

  Morgan barely caught her tin cup of milk before a lurch in the ship sent it flying. “This is one of the things we need to talk about,” he said, setting it back by her plate. “We have rules on a ship that everyone must follow.”

  “And they are?”

  “The first is that you avoid being around Cookie. If you need something from the galley, you find Kit, Barney, or myself and we’ll get it for you.”

  “But that’s a waste—”

  “Serenity,” he snapped, interrupting her. “Cookie is a surly old seaman and we know how to handle him. You don’t.”

  Her eyes darkened in anger. “And you would abandon that child to his care? What kind of mon—”

  “Court happens to be Cookie’s son and to date he has never harmed the child. Well, that’s probably not true. I’m sure Court’s hearing has been somewhat dulled by Cookie’s shouts, but he’s never physically harmed the boy.”

  “Oh,” she said before taking a bite of her food.

  Morgan leaned one narrow hip against the edge of her table and Serenity did her best not to think about how nicely his pants fit him.

  She forced her eyes to her milk.

  But it was hard to keep her gaze from trailing back to his…

  “The next thing,” he said, distracting her, “is that a ship is unpredictable, especially since we have a storm moving in. As you’ve noticed, the decks are constantly rolling, and every now and again a sharp wave or break in the ocean will cause the floor to lurch out from under your feet.”

  She gabbed her mug as it teetered once more. “I think I follow that.”

  “For that reason,” he said, indicating the mug with a tilt of his head. “I want you to stay away from the railings lest you stumble overboard. We lost our netting a few weeks ago and until we replace it, it’s not safe to stand near the edge of the ship.”