Pirates, Passion and Plunder

by Victoria Vale

  “Time for a drink.”

  Alice jumped at his words, the sound of his voice quickening her pulse even further. She eyed him with fascination as he threw his arms out in either direction.

  “Yes, I think I will.”

  He was on his feet in a matter of seconds, slamming those dirty boots against the fine finish of the quarter’s floor as he headed across the room. Alice had to shuffle right to maintain a good view of him and watched, completely captivated by his performance, as he reached a decanter of what she assumed to be liquor.

  Alice shook her head in disgust. She could not confirm what time it was, but it had to be early, based on the position of the light and the fact it felt like she had barely had any rest at all. Who would seek alcohol at this hour? Surely, not a man in charge of a vessel like the Dexterity?

  She could not see his face as he poured the drink, but her gaze scanned over his back. For some reason, Alice was mesmerized by the look of his dark trousers and worn coat tails. In all her twenty years, she had never once laid eyes on a man like him—no gentleman anyway—and at that moment, a potent combination of terror and excitement surged within her body.

  Maybe this Law wasn’t a gentleman, after all?

  In her determination to take back what was rightfully hers, Alice had not checked about the caliber of the man who had bought the ship. Why would she? She had watched with rising indignation as he had paid for the vessel outright, and knowing what little she did of the world, Alice had assumed the wealth must mean he was a gentleman, but as she regarded him now, she truly began to wonder. Law did not look like any gentleman she had seen before and did not appear to act like one.

  Her heart raced as the inevitable question rose to her lips, though Alice pressed her mouth into a hard line, resisting the urge to say it out loud.

  If he wasn’t a gentleman, what in God’s name was he?

  Law lifted the glass aloft in his left hand, his face turning temporarily toward the sun.

  “To your good health, Captain Law,” he cried out as though he was addressing an imaginary assembled group. “And to the virgin mission of the Dexterity.”

  He spun on his heel, shifting his body in her direction as he poured the liquor past his lips. Inhaling, she surveyed his tall, lithe figure as he stripped his jacket away and threw it to the floor. His shirt was parted at the chest, a patch of dark hair visible between the sullied white fabric.

  Alice gasped, raising one hand to her lips to try to stifle the sound. She had never seen a man’s chest before! In fact, she had never once seen a gentleman without his jacket, except her father on a few occasions, and somehow, the look of Law took her breath away. His brow furrowed as though a part of his brain had heard and registered the sound of her shock and he took a step toward the place she was hiding. The last Alice saw of his expression was a look of obvious curiosity, and her heart hammered in response, watching as his legs, then his feet grew closer. By this point, it was impossible for her to make out any more of the man, but it hardly mattered anymore. It was evident, Alice’s foolish behavior had landed her in serious trouble.

  Oh, Lord! Why had she reacted with such haste to his appearance, and why had she gasped aloud? She had given herself away. That one small act was all it had taken, and even though her lips were pressed tightly together now, in an attempt to enforce her silence, Alice knew it was already too late. Law was only a few inches from where she was huddled, his attention no doubt fixed on what he had heard, and if there was anything about the man, he would be able to conclude there must be a concealed area to the room—a part where someone was hiding.

  Alice’s anxiety was a palpable living thing as the seconds passed by. All she could see now from the gap in the wood was the expanse of one trouser-clad leg. She was too scared to shift in either direction—too afraid to make another sound and confirm what Law so clearly already suspected.

  Please, let him give up and leave, she prayed silently as the time protracted. Please, Lord, just let him leave. I promise I won’t be so reckless again. I swear it.

  Yet the small noises coming from overhead suggested Law was far from giving up. Alice heard taps against the wooden partition that separated her from Law’s looming threat and imagined him raising his knuckles and knocking against the wall. The sounds moved from her left to her right, well above the place she crouched to the floor below and concluded directly above the point where Alice’s head was hidden—she realized she was in real peril.

  There was a difference in the noise of the taps. The ones that knocked directly against the standard wall had a deeper quality about them while those that echoed around the small space her father had designed sounded hollow. That would have given her away. It must have. As she held her breath, her heart racing and her muscles beginning to cramp, Alice knew her fate was only a matter of time.

  Chapter 4

  Edward

  Turning, Edward absorbed the dark wood of his quarters as the sweet liquor hit the spot, the warm burn of rum sliding intoxicatingly down his throat.

  It was then it happened—a noise.

  Just a small sound, barely audible, yet Edward had heard it, and it sent his heart racing, his senses heightening at the development. Striding in the direction of the noise, Edward paused, listening hard for a moment.

  What was it he had heard?

  It had sounded like an inhalation of air—a gasp. His mind whirred while that thought resonated. Yes, that was it. It had been a gasp, a gasp from a person, but there was no one else here. Was there?

  Surveying the wood panels, his free hand rose to run a finger along the polished surface by his face. Could there be someone else in the captain’s quarters? Edward had heard tales of enemies hiding onboard ships or desperate folk stowing away, but to do so on a vessel like the Dexterity was nothing short of audacious. And to do so in the captain’s quarters, no less—insanity. His pulse sped up as he contemplated the notion, and all the while, he heard nothing further, no other noises to suggest movement or life, nothing except the pounding of his own heart.

  Yet Edward had heard something.

  He knew he had.

  Lifting his hand, he tapped gently against the sleek wood, tuning into the sound that echoed around him. Edward shifted his arm left, tapping again before knocking gently at the right side. The noises were all similar—there was nothing to query about them. Slowly, he drew his hand down toward the center of the space and once again, tapped the panels of wood. A shot of excitement rushed through Edward—this sound was different, and there was only one word that described it to Edward’s ears.

  The last tap had been hollow, suggesting there was something behind that space. Something different from the other spots he had tapped—a hollow, open area, a place someone could indeed be concealed.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Edward wandered back to his desk and placed the empty tumbler down against the teak. The whole time, his heart hammered as both exhilaration and anxiety rose in his chest. So, he had a stowaway on board, a fool with enough temerity to take refuge in his quarters. Reaching around the other side of the desk, Edward slid the top drawer open to reveal his pistol. He grabbed the weapon, sliding his fingers over the well-used trigger. Edward did not know who was hiding behind those wooden panels, but it was time to find out…

  He took a small step in the direction of the wall, ensuring he kept a safe distance. Anyone could be back there—an old foe, someone he’d stolen from in the past, or someone he’d injured. That could be dangerous. Edward’s reputation had a tendency to precede him these days, a fact which usually made him smile, but now, facing the unknown threat, he did not feel so certain. Naturally, there was also the possibility whoever was hiding behind there could be an even greater menace—they could represent the Crown or the East India Trading Company—and that would almost certainly mean the gallows for Edward Law. With an experienced hand, he drew back the trigger and took aim.

  “I know you’re in there.” His voice did not portray any
of the emotions that ricocheted around his body, but then, that was Law. He had seen enough action in the past to be able to hold his nerve.

  “Do yourself a favor and come out now.”

  Silence filled the room, louder than any other noise, apart from the deafening sound of Edward’s heart.

  “I know you can hear me,” he continued, inching ever closer to the place where he’d heard the gasp. “Out you come.”

  A small scratching clatter met his ears, the sound of movement, and instinctively, he inhaled. Whoever was behind there was shifting, and that meant one thing—this impromptu meeting was about to come to a climax.

  “I’m guessing you can see me as well,” he went on, unable to resist the smile which sprung to his lips. Edward was enjoying this now, relishing the spike of energy that whipped around his body, and while he knew he might be in danger, that dark side of him was starting to take over. It did not care about the peril. It relished the risk and fed on the sense of jeopardy.

  “So, you’ll know there’s a pistol directed at your head, a weapon I’m more than happy to discharge if you do not appear.” He paused, eyeing the wooden panels intently. “Boarding this vessel without the captain’s permission is an act of hostility, friend, so unless you want a bullet lodged in your skull, I suggest you take my advice and move.”

  A tiny whimper rose from behind the wood, a sound so small, Edward might have missed it had his senses not been so finely attuned in that direction—a mewl of fear, but more significantly, the mewl of either a woman or child.

  There was no way that noise had derived from a man.

  He inched forward again, though he kept the weapon pointed in the direction of the whimper. “If you come out now, perhaps I will be merciful. Edward Law can be merciful, whatever you’ve heard, but I am not a patient man…”

  There was a clamor of movement, and Edward imagined the hands and feet that made them. His curiosity was piqued now—there was no doubt about that—but Law was no fool. Even a woman or a child could be a threat with a pistol in their hand.

  Alice

  A deep, bilious feeling stirred in Alice’s belly at Law’s words. At first, she had thought to keep quiet and continue to conceal her presence. She had thought if she had stilled, he may have forgotten the gasp he heard and gone about his business, yet a part of her had always known the truth—that was hardly likely in the circumstances. Alice had been foolish enough to make the noise in the first place, and now, she had to face the stark reality—this so-called captain knew she was there. She watched in horror as he waved his pistol in her direction for the fourth time.

  Swallowing down the fear threatening to paralyze her, Alice rose to her knees in the cramped space, feeling for the panel which would reveal her to the looming Law. She had to be sensible. Perhaps the man would recognize her from the auction? Maybe he would take pity on her plight if she had the chance to explain it? Alice had to hang on to that thought, it was all she had.

  Pressing forward in the virtual darkness, Alice felt the wood give way in front of her, and a moment later, the piece of wood fell away, crashing spectacularly to the floor below. Alice gasped again, ironically making the same sound which had been her downfall, as she found herself on her knees, just a few feet away from the gun-wielding Edward Law.

  He took a long stride toward her, tilting his head to garner a better view of the woman who had stowed away onboard his ship. A spike of anger coursed around Alice’s body at that thought. The idea it was his ship still raged at her.

  “My, my, what have we here?” Law asked as he lowered himself to his haunches, still clutching the pistol in his hand.

  Alice blinked at him, for a moment unable to respond.

  “Can you speak, lady?” Law demanded with a wry smirk. “Or should I move to help you answer?”

  The glint in his eyes burst the bubble of paralysis that had frozen Alice’s body, and her lips parted. “I am Alice,” she blurted out, and for some unknown reason, she found herself flustering as she answered.

  That made no sense, but somehow, she had forgotten the searing intensity of the man’s gaze, and now, as his eyes locked with hers, the power in those blue orbs came flooding back to her.

  “Well, good day to you, Alice,” he replied. “I would usually tip my hat to a lady, but as you can see, I am currently not attired to do so.”

  Her heart pounded at his words, her belly twisting at the way his lips curled. Alice sensed he might be mocking her, yet she was in no position to argue—not now. Not when she was the one on her knees in the cramped hiding hole, and he was the one with the weapon in his hand.

  Law rose to his feet.

  “Out you come,” he commanded. “It’s time to explain yourself, Alice.”

  Chapter 5

  Edward

  The woman looked so small as she knelt in the concealed space behind the wood paneling, yet as Edward took in the sight of her, two other things struck him. First, there was fire in those brown eyes, a ferocity which he had rarely seen in members of her sex. The second was her face was somehow familiar.

  She edged out of the space, no doubt trying to maintain a modicum of dignity as she clambered on all fours but failing in a magnificent fashion. Edward grinned as she finally made it to her feet, her hands finding her slim hips, her expression fearsome, considering the circumstances.

  “So, Alice,” he began, lowering his pistol slightly. “Pray tell why I come to find you hiding in the captain’s quarters of the Dexterity?”

  Her small fingers clenched at his question. “There is a simple explanation, Mr. Law,” she huffed in response.

  So, she knew his name. Interesting…

  “I’m listening.”

  “This ship,” Alice paused, her gaze flitting around the fine interior of the room. “It should be mine.”

  Edward laughed out loud at her assertion. How could he not? A ship as fine as this—belonging to a woman? That was inherently laughable.

  “Is that right?” he asked in a wry tone.

  “Yes,” she confirmed emphatically.

  He shook his head. “Okay, lass, perhaps we’ll get to that, but first let me clarify. Is the Dexterity your ship?”

  She sighed, her hands slipping from her hips. “No, it is not,” she admitted. “But it jolly well should be.”

  Edward grinned. “And do you know to whom she belongs?”

  Alice’s gaze narrowed, demonstrating her knowledge of the subject in that one simple gesture. “I do, sir. The ship belongs to you.”

  He lifted his chin at her insolent tone. Had he ever met a woman as intentionally willful as this one?

  “So, you boarded my vessel knowingly and hid away in my quarters?”

  Alice nodded her head in confirmation.

  “Are you seeking a mutiny, Miss Alice?” he demanded in a mocking tone. “Do you wish to overthrow me?”

  She scowled, screwing her pretty features into a knot. “No, sir,” she hissed. “I do not seek to command your crew. I merely want what rightly belongs to me.”

  Edward chuckled, taking a step closer to the damsel. Alice was diminutive in stature, yet it was already clear to him, whatever she lacked in size, she more than made up for in spirit. Whatever her crazy motivation, he could not help but admire her pluck.

  “And why is the Dexterity yours, Alice?” His eyes drilled into her as he asked the question. “I am certain it was I who purchased her for a small fortune, just a few weeks ago.”

  “Indeed,” she replied, and Edward was surprised at the venom in her voice. Most people cowered at his commands, either from experience or instinct, yet it seemed this lady was immune to his intimidation.

  “It is mine by birthright,” she continued in an indignant tone. “Since the design and engineering of the vessel were due, in large part, to my father.”

  “Your father?” He blinked at her. Jaggers—the irritating scab of a man who had caused him such injury—had been her father? Edward’s gut twisted at the news.<
br />
  “Yes,” she confirmed, a hint of pride unmistakable in her voice. “George Jaggers was my father, and I, his only surviving child and heir.”

  Edward folded his arms across his chest. This news was not positive. Law had been thrilled to hear of old man Jaggers’ demise, his instincts immediately to capture the Dexterity and use his ship as one final insult to the man. But now, finding Jaggers’ daughter hiding in Edward’s quarters had rather dampened his mood. What the hell was he supposed to do with the wayward woman? Edward had neither the time nor the appetite to hand her over to the authorities, though he was certain that was what the young stowaway deserved. His earlier sentiment had been true—boarding his ship was a hostile act—and as Alice stood before him, there was not a single sign of contrition. In fact, she seemed resolute her actions had been justified.

  “So, you think the ship should belong to you?” His tone was clipped as he summated Alice’s explanation.

  “I do,” she concurred. “It is only right and proper, and I was prepared to pay handsomely for her before you, sir, came and stole her away from me!” Alice lifted her finger, pointing it at Edward accusingly.

  “Stolen?” Edward balked. “I bought the Dexterity fair and square at Christie’s Auction House!”

  For some reason, he was furious at her reproachful tone. Edward had danced outside of the rules his whole life, and now—on this one issue—he had chosen to do the right thing, buying the vessel by legitimate means. The fact it was this deed the woman wanted to judge sent unexpected rage coursing around his body. Who was this lady, after all? What right did she have to board his property? What right did she have to judge him?

  “I know, Mr. Law,” Alice snorted. “Perhaps you do not remember me, but I was also there at Christie's.”

  Edward blew out a breath, surveying the huffing Alice again. She had been there? So, that was where he recalled the woman from. It made sense now she mentioned it. Law knew he did not have carnal knowledge of Alice—he would have remembered a privilege as tantalizing as that—and he did not tend to associate with ladies in many other forums.