His Pirate (Second Chance Book 2)

by Stephanie Lake

  “Oh, how grand.” She clapped her hands. “I’m going to find Tim to see if she knows any of those stories.” Lydia rushed away, as fast as a ray of sun doused by a cloud.

  The dolphins no longer followed the ship, but Alastair loitered with Rhain at the bulwarks. There was little to do at the moment but maintain course, which Dunn executed to perfection.

  Alastair enjoyed spending the day with his lover, one of the few they had remaining together, watching waves slap the bow and later watching foam form and float away from the ship’s stern as they sailed at eight knots and sliced through aqua water.

  Even better was watching the breeze ruffle hair that was no longer short and tidy. The brown hair was unruly, tempting. He wanted nothing more than to grab those curls and pull Rhain in for a searing kiss.

  Instead, he acted the gentleman, and they talked about inconsequential things. Occasionally, Lydia would stop by to chat and then go off to find something more entertaining.

  So engrossed in his companion, he was surprised not to notice the growing humidity, still air, and clouds building, until his second in command pointed them out. Usually he felt humidity like a sixth sense. It wrapped around him like an old shirt when it promised good winds and smothered like a burlap scarf wrapped about his head when too high and threatening a storm.

  This felt like two burlap scarfs, an earlier sign than the clouds, which were just a smudge on the horizon. Less blue, more gray than the rest of the sky, like all color had leached from the heavens.

  “Trouble?”

  “Could be. Too early to tell. Better start getting the ship ready just in case. These storms can move in faster than you would expect.” He left to start giving orders.

  His crew worked seamlessly together, having done this drill many times before. So when the humidity rose to unbearable levels and the direction of the wind changed, the little ship was ready.

  Lydia and Rhain were at the bulwark together.

  Alastair took a deep breath and walked over to prepare them. “Here is where we stand. We are too far away from any of the islands to make it to a safe anchorage before this storm reaches us. The cloud bank is immense; no hope we can go around. We’ve readied the ship and will ride this squall out. Please don’t worry; we have done this many times. However, there are things you need to do to keep yourselves safe.

  “We’ve turned the ship into the teeth of the wind. That way the waves will hit the bow straight on. However, the ship will bounce and jerk as the waves come at us. Some may be large and can shift direction quickly.”

  Lydia’s blue eyes grew big as soup spoons, and Rhain said, “What you mean is, we will bounce around like a cork in a cook pot, don’t you?”

  He sighed but would not prevaricate. They needed to know the truth of this situation. “I need you both in your berths with the lee cloth engaged and all your belongings stowed and secured. I would hate for either of you to be hurt because you or something in your room gets flung about.”

  “Can we not stay in your quarters?” Rhain asked. “I don’t think I will like being bounced around that minuscule berth.”

  Alastair shook his head. “Your rooms are below the captain’s cabin and will be more stable and safer.”

  Rhain’s complexion went white. “And where will you be?”

  “Steering the ship, of course.” He smiled.

  “Up there?” Rhain pointed to the wheel. “Where you will be exposed like a dried bone poking through skin? On the topmost deck?” His face now almost ashen.

  “Quiet your fears, now. I will not be defenseless. I will be strapped on, and I’ve done this many times. It is quite exhilarating and addictive, to be honest. After your first storm, you start looking forward to more.”

  Miss Lydia’s brow wrinkled, but she gave him a wide smile, grabbing Rhain’s arm. “As much as I’d like to witness the storm, I think it would be best if we tuck ourselves in, don’t you, brother?” She pulled the man’s arm, and he reluctantly followed. “Best of luck, Captain. Take us to Dominica safely.”

  He tapped his forehead. “Yes, Mama.”

  Rhain broke away from her grip and kissed Alastair soundly. “Do be careful.” And then they were gone, and Alastair had this feeling in his chest that gave him a surge of invincibility.

  Two hours later, Rhain lay strapped in his bunk with lee cloths, hat in one hand, death grip on the wooden bed frame with the other.

  The ship took another dive, then crashed and lifted rapidly. He moaned.

  Lydia called from her adjacent room. “Are you unwell, dear? Do you need me to come help you?”

  “No. Stay where you are. I just have a small stomach ailment. I’ll be—”

  The ship lurched again, water sloshing about on the floor, and he lost his lunch directly into his hat. Damnation, he had never been so goddamn miserable in his life. How much longer would the accursed storm last?

  Lydia must have heard him, for she started talking. Actually, she must have been yelling to be heard over the thunder and groans of the ship. She talked about their island, and what their house would look like, and if their neighbors would invite them to a welcoming dinner.

  She must have kept this up, to keep his mind off the storm, for about an hour, when his door opened and Alastair stumbled in as the ship jolted. He dripped water, black hair slicked to his head and cheeks, but he smiled.

  “Mate Dunn relieved me for a time, so I thought I’d check on my two favorite passengers.”

  They were his only passengers, but Rhain felt too awful to state the obvious.

  “How are you, Miss Lydia?” he yelled.

  “Quite well, Captain. Thank you for looking in on us. I do believe my brother could use your assistance.”

  And Alastair did assist. He made the befouled hat disappear, and Rhain hoped he never saw the thing again.

  Alastair returned with wet and dry toweling and offered the best balm to Rhain’s shattered nerves and roiling stomach. “The waves have started to settle, and we can see sun off to the southeast. This is a huge gale, but she barely clipped us. It will be over soon.”

  Rhain would have cheered if he weren’t afraid that would cause him to cast up his accounts in front of the man he spent time naked with. He settled for a weak smile instead.

  Running a light, wet cloth across Rhain’s face, Alastair said, “In a few moments I think we can unstrap you, but I don’t want you to sit up fast. That will make your stomach worse.” The man started working on the restraint.

  “Now, sit slowly, and keep your eyes open.”

  He did as bid, and once his head elevated above his stomach, he felt immediately better. “Ah, this is good. I think I might live.”

  Alastair laughed, kissed his forehead, and left to check on Lydia.

  Half an hour later, cleaned, refreshed, and almost fully recovered, he stumbled topside on shaky limbs with Lydia leading the way. They watched the storm receding. The distant lightning and thunder were incredible to witness once the ship stopped bouncing like a spirited horse with its first rider.

  Sailors dashed about tying sails and securing ropes. Water still pooled in unusual places.

  First Mate Dunn sought them out. “I have some small bad news, I’m afraid.”

  His stomach sank as if the ship were falling into a wave’s trench. “What is that?”

  “Even though we have made very good time thus far, the storm forced us off course, and we need to make a few repairs; our docking in Dominica will be delayed by another few days.” The man smiled and squeezed Lydia’s hand as he said this.

  Lydia bounced on her toes and exclaimed, “We have an extra few days? We have the rest of today and two others? That is a boon, not bad news. Wonderful news!”

  Rhain caught the captain’s eye, who once again manned the wheel, and could feel his face stretch into an almost painfully large smile.

  Rhain rubbed his full belly. “I very much appreciate that last provisioning stop. I don’t believe we ever ate this well in Lond
on.”

  Hugging his arm close to her thin side, Lydia said, “That berry dessert was wonderful, I must agree.”

  They walked slowly arm in arm around the ship, while Alastair and First Mate Dunn carried out some ship business. Afterward, Rhain planned to spend the night keeping his captain awake and occupied with a more sensual business.

  “Oh, just look at all those stars. There must be hundreds of thousands of them. Hard to believe that just a day ago this sky was full of storm clouds.”

  Hushed voices behind a group of secured crates ruined the feeling of isolation. Damn, but there was no privacy on ship. The whispering, and the sound of feet rapidly slapping on wood demanded his full attention.

  Men—two, three, perhaps more—rushed around the crates and headed directly toward them.

  Heart pounding, he reacted before verifying the intention of those men. He shoved Lydia behind him and made himself as large as possible. There would be no way those men would pass him and accost his sister.

  He vaguely registered Lydia crying for help as the first man reached him. Rhain dispatched the man quickly by blocking the swing of a long board, stepping inside the swing, and punching the man in the throat. The man was yet to slip fully to the deck when the next man swung a short pole, striking Rhain in the thigh. It was a weak swing at an awkward angle.

  He could have taken this man down as well if not for the third man tossing a coil of rope at his head. He dodged and went for the second man again just as he saw Alastair out of the corner of his eye. The captain jumped from the quarterdeck, landing two feet away from the third man, snapped his neck as smooth as you please, and was facing a fourth man before the dead man slumped to the main deck.

  Rhain had yet to count the fourth man among the miscreants. It was Balls, and the man looked crazed with anger.

  Dunn ran past him as the second man tried for another swing. This time, Rhain stepped toward the swing, hitting the man’s forearm, which broke the swing’s momentum. He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him and his ugly face into a left hook. Not even looking to see if the man was still alive or fighting, he turned to find Lydia. She was safely behind Dunn, who smoothly pulled a knife out of the first man’s neck and hauled the body overboard.

  He pivoted. The second man lay still, but Balls was the threat now.

  Alastair, behind Balls, had a short staff pulled tight against the struggling giant’s neck. “How did you scramble your sorry arse out of irons, you waste of skin?”

  Balls only gurgled and struggled more violently.

  Rhain stepped up and punched the thug in the nose. The man went down, and Alastair and Rhain followed him, pulling his arms up behind his back, not giving him a chance to regain his senses.

  Dunn was there with a length of rope before either of them could call for it, and tied the big man up tight roughly.

  Only then did Rhain realize a large part of the crew was milling around trying to determine what happened and offering help.

  Alastair looked at Rhain, holding his gaze as he caught his breath. “I thought…” He swallowed. “Never mind. What happened?”

  Filling the captain and Dunn in on the little he knew, he was relieved when Lydia came over and leaned against him. He didn’t even have to ask; Lydia offered a, “I am fine, Rhain. Conall dispatched the man before he regained his strength after your superlative punch. Bravo, brother. And you, Captain, what an artist you are at fighting. Perhaps you will teach me how to use my knife?” Then she was off to fuss over Dunn, and Rhain took that moment to feel the crippling fear he should have felt moments ago.

  His body shook, his hands cold as the north wind. “God, Alastair. God, I thought Lydia, and…and then I thought you were going to…” He put his head in his hands, and Alastair wrapped him in a warm embrace, murmuring meaningless phrases.

  Feeling like a child, he collected his composure and pushed away from his lover. “Thank you.”

  Alastair only smiled. “Your sister was correct; nice punches, Rhain. Perhaps you can teach me some of your techniques.”

  “From what I was able to see, you don’t need any additional techniques. You are a lethal man.” Just as he had suspected that first day in the Red Pig.

  “What will you do to him?” He nodded toward Balls, who was starting to struggle against his restraints.

  “Talk to him, and that one.”

  The second man was still out cold.

  “See how they got Balls out of lockup, find out if anyone else was involved, and force them to tell me what they hoped to gain from this attack. My suspicion is they thought they could garner enough help to take over the ship.” He snorted.

  Rhain also doubted they would have been successful. The crew—most of it, at any rate—were unusually loyal to the captain.

  Lydia came over to them. “Don’t kill them.”

  “Why not?” Alastair said as if her comment were farcical.

  “It is not conscionable to kill someone when they are tied up and helpless.”

  Alastair looked at Rhain and winked. He stood. “Smith, Lefty, and Cook, throw these two men belowdeck, and two of you stand guard at all times. Don’t allow them to talk to one another.

  “Mr. Morgan, Miss Lydia, Mate Dunn, care for a spot of port to wash the taste of danger from our mouths?”

  They all nodded.

  Chapter Ten

  Their last evening on the Hurricane, Rhain sat with Lydia, watching the setting sun play over straggling orange-and-purple tinged clouds. It was lovely, but both he and his sister sat quietly, Lydia almost scowling, and he knew his expression must be similarly morbid.

  She sighed. “I must be honest. I don’t want to leave the ship.”

  He patted her pale hand.

  “I’ve never been so happy as on this ship. I feel well, almost as though I never was ill. And…promise you will not anger?”

  “Lydia, do stop saying that! It has the opposite effect of what you’re asking for.”

  “Promise.”

  “No.”

  “I have fallen in love.”

  Rhain snorted. “That is not news, Lyd. You walk around in a cloud of joy and stare like a puppy at First Mate Dunn all day long.”

  She smiled at that. “So you see why I want to stay.”

  He nodded, letting her talk, knowing her wish was impossible for both of them. But he enjoyed the fantasy for a few wonderful moments.

  Clasping his closest hand, she enthused, “We could both stay. I know you’re in love with your captain.”

  He snorted, a cocktail of emotions running through him. Lust, certainly. Friendship, yes. Love by the slop bucketfuls, but what good was that emotion when he was getting ready to leave ship? Oh, God. It would hurt to leave one hundred times more than when Robert left him.

  “I’m certain Captain Breckenridge will let us stay. I’ve become quite good at splicing rope and educating the crew on what they want to learn. I can continue keeping his books, and you are proving to be a quick study at navigation. I’m certain you would be excellent at that.”

  “No, Lydia.”

  She continued as if he had not spoken, and he felt his anger grow. He was angry because she spun a tale that sounded so perfect, and it was within their reach, but they couldn’t. It would be disastrous.

  He and Alastair would eventually fight, since they were both rather hotheaded, and he’d likely find himself tossed off ship someplace overrun with flesh-eating insects the size of his fist. Lydia would marry much below her station, find herself with child and then dumped at a port town where she would see Dunn every other year. Probably getting a new round of pregnancy with each short visit.

  The first mate came toward them, so he stopped Lydia’s dream weaving. “No. We have a plantation that needs our input, and we must maintain our position in society. I’m sure you will find a nice wealthy second son of a governor, or some such, in Dominica, and will be happier than you can imagine with new gowns and hair ribbons.”

  She glared a
t him.

  Dunn held out his arm for Lydia. “Miss Lydia, Mr. Morgan, the captain’s dinner party is ready. Please allow me to escort you in.”

  He could admit the first mate did have tolerable manners for a lowborn, he thought as he followed him to the captain’s chamber for what Alastair termed “a celebration dinner.” Although celebrating what, he didn’t know. One could have scooped up the melancholy in that room with a spoon, it was so thick.

  Lydia glared at him every time their eyes met, and he had a sick stomach from the knowledge this was his last day on ship and didn’t enjoy the food. Admittedly, the quality had somewhat dwindled that day since they’d run out of fresh meat.

  Thankfully, the tense affair finished quickly, as no one lingered over wine or port. Dunn offered to walk Lydia around the main deck and then escort her to her berth.

  “Still no word from your captives?” Rhain asked while Alastair locked the cabin door.

  “Nothing, but I’m not concerned. They will talk when their gullet is so dry they can no longer swallow.”

  That thought made his own throat feel like parchment. He once again took his place at the table and swallowed another mouthful of port.

  Alastair reached across the scared wood and laced their fingers together. His loose white shirt was open at the neck, offering a tempting glimpse of tan chest, but Rhain moved to kiss that skin because his lover looked as though he’d lost his entire crew in a game of cards.

  Well, no time like the present. “Lydia says she is in love and wants to stay on ship.” He laughed and rolled his eyes, expecting Alastair to do the same, but instead he squeezed their fingers tighter together.

  “I would be quite angry with your first mate if it weren’t that I know my sister is just as much to blame, perhaps more than he is.”

  Nodding, Alastair looked at their entwined hands, so Rhain studied them as well. One dark, long and elegant, the other light, freckled and large.

  “She’s always been fanciful, so don’t concern yourself with such a ridiculous notion.”

  “I am not irritated, nor concerned.” And indeed, the man looked anything but. He looked downtrodden.