Seduced by the Pirate

by Andersen, Maggi

  She’d grown sweaty. Her dress stuck to her. She pulled the fabric and the petticoat away from her legs. It had suddenly grown very hot. The breeze had died. She walked over to the big window. The Golden Orion rocked on the waves. They appeared to be becalmed. That would not please the captain, and would not please Alex, either, so she didn’t mention it.

  “It’s almost time for me to go up and begin to apply the medication,” she said.

  Alex stared at her. “It will be dark soon.”

  “I shall tend them through the night.”

  “Amongst those savages?” He struggled up on his elbows. “And me not there to protect you!”

  “Stirling assigned Bastian to escort me safely around the ship.” She closed her case. “I am with these men all day, Alex. No one has even made a lewd suggestion let alone an attempt to ravage me. Most of them are too sick to even contemplate it.”

  “Who else will be with you?”

  “Sam, and I believe the captain is on duty.”

  “I am very unhappy about this, Lydia.”

  “I know. But it can’t be helped. We need to heal these men or we may not be allowed to leave the ship.”

  Alex nodded. “There is that. At the first sign of trouble, come back here.”

  “Of course. But I don’t expect it.”

  She was eager to spend the night on deck tending the men, but admitted working with Stirling had its appeal, especially the appreciative gleam in his eyes when he gazed at her. She shrugged. What an idiot she was to think of him that way.

  Chapter Five

  On the poop deck, Jack turned from discussing the state of their dwindling provisions with Pete to observe Miss Bromley and Sam as they moved among the sick crew members.

  After Pete retired to sleep, Jack took out the spyglass. Heat had settled over them like a blanket. Not a breath of wind, the weather remaining fine with wisps of cloud, the stars diamond-bright, and the moon hanging suspended like a silver shilling. The ship rocked gently on a becalmed sea. While it might make Miss Bromley’s work easier, the lull was damned inconvenient. At least no other ship in the vicinity could go anywhere either. Even so, he raised his spyglass to search the sea for any sign of lights.

  Satisfied, he lowered it to admire Lydia, aware his benevolent mood belied a deep concern for his crewmen, but also for the woman who tended to them. They would reach the trading post where the slave trade operated in a day or so. Lydia and Malik would be at the mercy of the type of men to be found there.

  Jack had no dealings with slavers. He had several in his crew he’d freed from slaver ships. There were always good pickings to be had from those ships, for they carried gold, ivory, and spices, as well as sugar, rum, and cotton. The men had no code of honor, and Alex had no business taking Lydia into such a dangerous situation. The Englishman would expect them to deal fairly with him. Jack knew they wouldn’t.

  While astonished by the way his mind now worked, Jack took the thought to its conclusion. The Bromleys were on his ship, and therefore under his protection. If he offered to see Lydia safely onto a merchant ship bound for England, might Alex agree? He could go on alone. Let the fool take his life in his hands and make his way back to his camp. Malik could stay aboard; it was not a bad life for a boy. Once a good strong young lad like him set foot ashore in that place, he would be shipped off on a slave ship packed with poor devils.

  Miss Bromley was giving an infinite amount of attention to Aden. With fear tightening his gut Jack leapt down the stairs and strode to her side.

  Aden lay still, his eyes closed. Jack glanced sideways at Lydia. “How is he?”

  “Still feverish. I have given him a small dose of dragon’s blood, plus something to help him sleep. We’ll know more in the morning.”

  Jack took her arm and drew her into the lantern light. “I want the truth. Don’t spare me.”

  In the faint golden light, her dark eyes were unfathomable. “I’m not. I just don’t know.” Her head drooped, He realized how tired she was.

  “Go to bed,” he ordered. “Sam and I will continue if you tell me what to do.”

  She stretched her arms and rubbed a hand over her lower back. An unconscious gesture, but she quickly caught herself, straightened, and stepped away from him. “No. Better I do it.”

  “Then allow me to assist you.”

  After a moment, she nodded and held up the bottle of dragon’s blood. “We must give the men each a dose of this, and afterward, the results will not be pleasant.”

  He gave a half laugh. “You think something unpleasant will upset me?”

  “No, I don’t. You must have been witness to the worst that humanity is capable of.”

  The inference that he might be behind some of it went unspoken. He tightened his jaw. “Yes, Miss Bromley, you are right.” His voice held a touch of bitterness.

  She glanced at him, but opened the bottle containing the medicine. “I shall do the first, then you the next and so on.”

  When she handed the bottle to him, their fingers touched. A frisson of desire raced through him. Her eyes widened, and when she moved away, it told him she had felt it, too.

  They moved along the line of men. When they finished with the last man, she put away the bottle. “Thank you. I can manage now.”

  She was dismissing him. He didn’t like it and had no intention of leaving. “I’ll stay to the end.”

  She bowed her head over her case. “I’d like to hear how you came to this life, Captain.”

  “Would you? Why?” His past was not something he wished to revisit. He’d never discussed it with anyone in fact. The women he’d bedded never expressed any curiosity about his life. Yet, Lydia Bromley, with whom he was not intimately acquainted, wished to know all about him. Did she find him an interesting subject to study?

  He thought she flushed, although he wasn’t sure in the poor light.

  “You are not what I expected,” she said at last.

  “What did you expect? A foul-mouthed ignorant brute?”

  “Well, no, but… lacking in refinement, perhaps.”

  He chuckled. “Am I not colorful enough? Have I disappointed you?”

  “To the contrary, Captain. I am relieved you are more civilized than I expected.”

  Oddly, this annoyed him. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

  She folded her arms. “I am never sure of anything, Captain. That would be foolish.”

  As some men began to stir, she turned back to them.

  It was the early hours of the morning by the time they were done. Jack sent Sam to escort Lydia to her quarters. He relieved his helmsman and the breeze grew stronger, whipping his hair about. The wind was favorable, rising from the south east. Soon, they would reach their destination.

  He stared moodily into the dark, rubbing the scar at his temple, his ear attuned to his ship and the sea, the creak of the timbers, slap of waves on the hull, and the occasional splash of a fish. The lady was far grittier than he had given her credit for. While he admired her for it, part of him wished she’d shown some weakness. That she might have needed more from him. She perplexed him. Women flirted, they sat upon his lap, and felt his muscles. They moaned and cried beneath him, no doubt pandering to his ego, but that was the way things were.

  He was the kind who appealed to them. A man with gold coin in his purse who was known to be generous. One who took the time to please them. The way nature made men and women. Not such a woman as this. Delicate as an exotic flower, but with surprising steel beneath.

  She had come away with nothing, but he was sure she would not play those games. Pity. He admitted that a sexual current flowed between them. Something pulled him to her. And her to him. The way she held herself and moved around him, so carefully, as if to touch him would stoke a fire. He knew when a woman desired him. If he ever had her where he wanted her, on his lap, she wouldn’t simper and test the strength of his muscles, she would emerge from those strictures British society had forced on her and become a passion
ate bedmate, taking her pleasure as well as receiving it. Of this, he was convinced. And it was like a siren’s call.

  Maybe he wouldn’t let her leave the ship. He might take her to their base where Lydia and he could enjoy each other. Drink good wine, eat great food, and swim naked in the sea. Make endless love. It was a fantasy as he knew her to be a woman of heart and benevolence. A fantasy perhaps, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the thought of them together. It was far too pleasurable. At the tug at his groin, he considered it time to visit the taverns which would banish such thoughts from his mind.

  He shook his head with a chuckle and called to Will who had emerged from below. “Take the helm, I want to see how Aden fares.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Too restless to sleep, Lydia was up to watch the dawn painting the sky and sea beyond the windows with vivid crimson, orange, and blue. Not the misty violet and pinks of an English dawn, which was much softer and more subdued. Dawn was heralded with a slash of sharp colors, forceful and demanding like Africa itself, where danger and death lurked behind every tree, and life was enriched by the struggle.

  The heat of the morning began to rise. It would be scorching soon if the wind didn’t pick up. She eased the heavy braid away from her neck, mourning the loss of hair pins. Would there be combs in that trunk Stirling had mentioned? Annoyed, she shook her head.

  In the captain’s quarters, Alex was stirring. Malik lay in the hammock still asleep.

  “Is it done?” Alex propped himself on his elbow.

  “Yes. We had enough medicines for them all. Now, we can only pray. There’s little more I can do for them.”

  He frowned. “You would pray for these villains?”

  “Yes, they are men, after all.”

  “Who was with you?”

  “Sam, and the captain assisted.”

  He nodded. “I shall get up today. We shouldn’t be far from our destination.”

  “I don’t know. We’ve been becalmed for over twenty-four hours.” She smoothed her linen skirts, hating how grubby they’d become.

  Dare she wash it? She’d have to hide in her petticoat and chemise until it was dry. She rinsed the chemise at night. She was eager to see to the men and have them settled back in their quarters. And had Aden improved, or was he worse? She drew in a breath. The boy was a favorite of the captain’s, and the young lad pulled at her heart strings.

  “Are you going up without breaking your fast?” Alex demanded as she moved toward the door.

  “I’ll eat later. Send Malik to me when he has eaten.”

  “I’ll bring him myself.”

  She eyed her brother, not liking his pasty color. For a strong man, so resolute when engaged in his serious pursuit of botanical specimens, he now appeared wan. As if the arrow might have threaded some poisonous substance through his veins. However, when she checked his wound, she found it was healing nicely.

  “And no man did anything to upset you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps if the captain had, you would not complain?”

  It was a spiteful remark, meant to hark back to her past as if she was a strumpet. She burned with shame, because there was a hint of truth to it. She refrained from biting back. Unhappy, did he wrestle with the idea of returning to the camp? Perhaps he’d decided not to. When would he tell her? She knew better than to ask.

  Lydia turned away. “I’ll see you and Malik outside.” She opened the door and left him.

  On deck, the crew moved about the ship, the wind freshening. Welcoming the cool breeze on her neck, she raised a hand to the man with the eyepatch at the helm, although she didn’t know his name. He made no attempt to greet her.

  Four of the sick crewmen had returned to their duties, and those remaining looked a good deal brighter. Declan stood chatting to Bastian. He winked at her. She was pleased to find the most feverish of them cool under her hand, and two expressed a need for food. Aden lay quietly watching her. She felt his forehead and took his slender wrist in her hand.

  “Oh my.” She smiled, her heart squeezing in her chest. “You are much better.”

  He licked his dry lips. “Yes, miss.”

  She offered him a little water, and he drank thirstily.

  “The captain will be pleased,” she said. “Soon, we shall take you back to your quarters.”

  “Can’t I stay here, miss? I like to watch the birds.”

  She glanced to where he pointed. Gulls were diving into the ocean. They could not be far from land. A bank of dark clouds rimmed the horizon.

  “I’m afraid not, Aden. I don’t want you caught in a rainstorm.”

  Captain Stirling appeared on deck. “So, how is Aden this morning?”

  Aden struggled up. “Well, sir.”

  The captain put a hand on his shoulder and eased him down. “Give it time, lad.”

  Lydia took note of Stirling’s wet hair. He’d shaved off his goatee, his jaw clean, his white shirt spotless. Embarrassed, she shook out her grubby skirts, wishing she could say the same for herself.

  He didn’t miss the gesture. She was sure those dark blue eyes would seldom miss anything. “There’s a trunk of women’s clothes in the hold. You might find something to wear.”

  She reddened and raised her chin. “You think all women are the same? That we all want lovely gowns and jewels at any price? I shan’t drape myself in your spoils, Captain.”

  His powerful legs braced against the increased swell; an amused expression entered his eyes. “As I expected, Miss Bromley. And such a pity, if I may say so.”

  “I’d rather you hadn’t,” she said crisply. Liar, she thought, pleasure threading through her veins, and annoyed to be caught again by the man’s charm.

  She bit her lower lip. Pirates were rogues, and it would be wise to remember that. It appeared he found her predictable. Well, maybe she would surprise him. But there was so little time left, and the thought of leaving the ship and those of the crew she liked, as well as their captain, made her deeply regretful. And worse, she feared what awaited her and Alex when they stepped ashore.

  Some had recovered. Cliff, Magnus, Graeme, and Becket, appeared on deck taking up their duties.

  Stirling nodded to her. “You have saved their lives.”

  “I might have got them onto their feet faster, but they would not have died.”

  “Nonsense. We shall not argue about it, Miss Bromley.” With a courteous bow, he went to join his men.

  She looked after him, his muscled thighs encased in tight white trousers, his feet in soft-soled shoes. She admired the swing of his narrow hips and the set of his wide shoulders, and had an urge to sketch him. She’d left her sketch pad behind, but there was paper and a pen in his quarters. She might take something of this experience with her. Would he agree or laugh at her? And what would Alex think?

  Chapter Six

  With a sense of uncharacteristic optimism, Jack gripped the poop deck rail. His men were almost back to full strength. There were one or two malingerers who enjoyed Miss Bromley’s soft hand on their brow, whom Bastian would turn out of their hammocks tomorrow. Aden had requested to return to his duties when Jack last visited him. He was refused.

  An alert had been sounded when a sail was standing out to sea. It could be Cordova, still on the hunt for them. That meant trouble ahead.

  “Land ahoy!” The cry came from the lookout.

  Jack viewed the dark line of the Senegambia coast on the horizon through his spyglass. A ship loaded with human cargo had departed the trading post.

  Pale and hollow-eyed, Alex joined him at the rail. “Here at last. We’ll be well on our way before dark.”

  “So, you’ve decided to go back?”

  “I was never in doubt. My specimens are too important.”

  Jack tightened his hands. “Then go alone.”

  “What? And leave my sister with you?”

  “Miss Bromley is much safer on board than amongst the Voudon. I’ll
make sure she returns safely to England.”

  Alex glared at him. “I’m supposed to believe that? I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  “That’s easily solved. Allow me to get both of you to England. You’re not likely to have a better offer from the traders.”

  “I’m returning to my camp and my sister comes with me.”

  “You see that ship?” Jack pointed.

  “Yes, where is it going?”

  “The Caribbean with their cargo of African slaves.”

  Alex’s eyes remained on the coast. He grunted. “Deplorable.”

  “You plan to have that happen to Malik?”

  “No!” Alex swung around to him. “I won’t allow it.”

  “How will you stop them?”

  “I have a gun, but I doubt they’ll argue with me.” He straightened. “They’ll obey the command from one of their betters.”

  Jack scowled at him. He was a fool. Some of these men would sell their own mothers. “Leave the lad with me.”

  “No. Lydia is very fond of him. He goes with us.”

  Jack struggled to tamp down his fury. Alex would see emotion as a sign of weakness. “That’s how you persuade her to go with you, isn’t it?”

  Alex’s ears reddened. “This conversation is over. Just do as you are bid, Captain. Land us at the post and then return to your thieving ways.”

  Bromley stamped across the deck and went below.

  Like a small shadow, Malik silently joined Jack at the rail.

  “You want to go home, Malik?” Jack asked him again.

  Malik shook his head vigorously. “Stay with Missie.”

  Jack handed him the spyglass. “See the land?”

  The child took it from him and stared through the eyepiece. He said nothing, but when he lowered it, his eyes seemed to appeal to Jack.

  Jack took the glass and watched the lines of Africans shuffling along, prodded by white men with guns.

  His chest tightened with quiet rage. Of course the lad was frightened. He wished he could stop Alex from taking him back, but he suspected the man to be unhinged.