The Pirate's Temptation (Pirates of Britannia World Book 12)

by Tara Kingston

  Leana. His heart plowed against his ribs. “Where is she?”

  Mrs. Taylor sobbed against her hand. “They…they took her. Only her.”

  He turned to the cook. “Ye’re certain?”

  Her hand trembling, she nodded and handed him a letter bearing a red wax seal marked by a single L. “They left this…for you.”

  Bastards. He tore open the message. As he suspected, the intruders had left behind a ransom demand—the Bloodhead Sword—and their terms.

  He’d bluidy well alter their damnable terms. The bastards would regret ever making demands of The Devil of the Highlands.

  Shoving the letter into his vest pocket, he made a silent vow. He would find Leana. Her captors had better pray she did not bear so much as a scratch from the abduction.

  Mrs. Davidson’s face sagged with worry. “She must’ve led the children to a hiding spot before those evil men could find them.”

  “Ye’ve searched their rooms?”

  “I checked under the beds, anywhere I thought they might be.”

  The oak wardrobe in the room Leana had occupied flashed in his thoughts. “Blast it, I think I know where they are.”

  Bolting from the room, he bounded up the stairs, calling his daughters’ names. He dashed into Leana’s chamber and went directly to the cabinet.

  “Isla! Bridget! It’s safe now. Come out.”

  “Da!” Isla cried, throwing her arms around his neck as he reached down and scooped up Bridget. Their tears soaked through his shirt. His heart thundered with relief, and he uttered a silent prayer of thanks. His girls were safe.

  “Miss Fraser…did they take her away?” Isla murmured through her tears.

  “I think so, lass,” he said, holding his daughters close.

  “I heard what she said.” Isla clung to him. “She told them things so they’d take her instead of us.”

  God above, she’d sacrificed herself to save his bairns. He’d misjudged her. How had he been such a fool?

  “Tell me,” he urged in an even voice. “What did ye hear?”

  “She fibbed. She told them we were gone, with Grandmum. She told them she was going to marry you, said you’d given her that pretty ring she wears.”

  “Did ye hear what the men said?”

  “They said ye’d come after her.” Nibbling her lower lip, Isla brushed away a tear. “Ye’re goin’ to get her back. Promise me, Da. Ye’ll save her.”

  Quiet rage surged within him. If the bastards touched Leana—if they mistreated her in any way, they would rue the day they’d dared invade his home.

  For the sake of his daughters, he forced down the anger. He couldn’t let them see the rage and worry digging into his gut like a brawler’s fist. “I’m going after her. Those men will regret what they’ve done.”

  “Please, don’t let them hurt her,” Bridget implored.

  “I won’t,” he said, hugging his daughters to his chest. “I will find her. And I will protect her. Ye have my word on that, my darling girls.”

  Pitched about in a storm-tossed sea, the ship rocked beneath Leana’s feet. The sky had turned to shades of gray and ash, and lightning crackled at the horizon. Rain had not yet begun to pelt, but it wouldn’t be long now.

  Staring out of the cabin window, Leana braced herself as the ship listed slightly to one side. Beneath the porthole, waves slapped against the side of the vessel, splashing up on the deck.

  The storm suited her mood. Blast it, she hadn’t expected the cowards who’d abducted her to take her out to sea. Surrounded by churning water and white-capped waves, she had no chance of escaping her captors.

  Looking out into the darkness, she pictured Jamie and the children. By now, he’d returned home. What horror had he encountered? Were Isla and Bridget still safe? The girls had been so very brave in their hiding place. She’d breathed a soft sigh of relief when the coach had sped from the castle, carrying the intruders away from the children.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw Mr. Howell, lying wounded by the curs who’d invaded the castle. Silently, she prayed for the courageous man’s healing. His bravery had saved the others. She’d overheard her abductors lamenting the demise of the third hooligan in their plan. Mr. Howell had sent the lowlife to Hades with a well-placed pistol shot.

  The door to the cabin swung open, and a lean, long-legged man entered. With his chiseled visage and chestnut brown hair tinged with gray at the temples, he was a man most would’ve considered handsome. But the ice in his blue eyes set the fine hairs at Leana’s nape on edge. There was a coldness in his expression, a calculating evil that pierced her fragile courage.

  Was he the scoundrel behind this brutal scheme?

  “Do you know who I am?” His voice betrayed English roots.

  “Why would I?” she replied. “We’ve never met—”

  “If you know what’s best for you, you will not speak to me in such an insolent tone.” He caught her face in the vise of his forefinger and thumb, digging his fingers into her flesh. “What has MacArron told you about his thieving past?”

  “Thieving?” She gave her head a desperate shake, blinking back tears of pain she refused to shed. “How dare you.”

  “The man is a pirate.” He studied her for a long moment. “You’re either a very good liar, or he failed to tell you the ugly truth—he’s a no-good thief.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She firmed her chin against the fear. “Why have you brought me here? You’ve nothing to gain from holding me prisoner.”

  “That remains to be seen.” His hand fell away, and he plowed a hand through his hair. “You were not part of my plan.”

  “Surely you do not think to collect a ransom.”

  “In a manner of speaking.” A cruel smile played on his mouth. “MacArron’s life in exchange for your freedom.”

  His words crashed into her. “My God, you intend to kill him.”

  He walked slowly to the porthole, then looked through the small window into the darkness. “I have good reason to want to see the blackguard dead. MacArron tried to destroy my family. He damned near succeeded.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “You…you’re one of the Lachlands.”

  “Yes.” He continued to stare out into the night. “My name is Silas Lachland. And I will have my revenge.”

  “Your brother—he scarred the captain?”

  He turned to her. “That honor belonged to my cousin. MacArron attacked a vessel bound for Charleston. When the ship’s captain defended what was his, the pirate killed him and commandeered the cargo.”

  “He had no choice,” Leana protested. “He still bears the mark of your cousin’s dagger.”

  “Your loyalty is admirable. But misguided. MacArron’s raid cost everything my family had. Six weeks after the attack, my father died by his own hand. We’d lost everything, but my cousin, Ellis, and I were determined to reclaim our place in the world. After the war, we went to America and used what little we still had to build back our fortune. Whatever it took, nothing stopped us. But Ellis was consumed by his thirst for vengeance. He vowed the pirate would pay for what he’d done.”

  Terrible understanding dawned on her. “He killed the girls’ mother.”

  He nodded. “When Ellis returned to England, he discovered MacArron had everything a man could want—a beautiful wife to warm his bed, children, his ancestral home. His rage drove him mad. He hatched a plan to destroy everyone and everything MacArron loved, just as the pirate had destroyed our kin.”

  “And your men…Dear God, tonight, they intended to harm those bairns.”

  Slowly, he shook his head. “I’ve no desire to spill innocent blood. I need MacArron to perform a task for me. After it’s done, I’ll see him dead. What better leverage than holding his daughters to ensure his compliance? But the fools I sent after the children weren’t capable of bringing them here.”

  She steadied her voice. “The girls were not there.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Contempt flared in hi
s gaze. “You made fools of the men I sent after those brats, but don’t make the mistake of thinking I will be so easily drawn in. It remains to be seen if MacArron will be as motivated to save you as he would have been to protect his kin.”

  “He will come after me,” she said coolly, doubting every word as it left her mouth.

  Lachland’s mouth curved in an evil semblance of a smile, spurring a fresh chill along the length of her spine. “For your sake, I do hope that is the case. If not, I know of a place where men will pay a handsome sum to have a woman like you at their mercy.”

  Mired in unrelenting solitude, Leana stared out the porthole, watching the full moon’s rays dance over the inky blackness of the water. They’d anchored the ship after the first sunset at sea. Even in the light of day, there was no land in sight, and she’d no idea where she was. She was quite thoroughly trapped.

  Turning away from the window, she sat on the edge of the hard cot that served as her bed. The minutes crawled. With nothing to read, she craved some activity to pass the time. Despite the relentless boredom, she gave thanks that her captors had not accosted her, leaving her alone with the exception of brief exchanges of pleasantries with the cabin boy who brought her meals and a generous daily ration of drinking water.

  A light knock upon the door interrupted her thoughts. The gray-eyed abductor strode into the cabin. He closed the door and came to where she sat by the porthole. With his small, close-set eyes and long face, he resembled a weasel. “I trust you’ve found the quarters to your liking.”

  “I’ve no complaints. I’d expected far worse.”

  “We are expecting communication from MacArron. Are you still confident he will come after you?”

  “Yes.” Leana came to her feet, putting more distance between them.

  “Mr. Lachland is not a patient man. If MacArron does not heed the terms of your ransom, you will be the one to suffer the consequences.”

  The predatory gleam in his eyes set her nerves on edge. “Why are you here?”

  “If I were you, I would fear what the future holds. In the end, you may wish Lachland had tossed you overboard. I’m told he has a special client in mind, a purveyor of beauties for men with rather unusual tastes.”

  She steeled her spine. “I will be no man’s whore.”

  “You will do as you’re told.” Coiling strands of her hair between his fingers, he dragged her near. A low, raw laugh escaped him. “They all do, in the end.”

  She wanted so desperately to claw at his face, but she restrained the impulse. She hiked her chin. “I asked you before—why did you come here?”

  “If you were cooperative, I would be willing to offer you assistance…to ensure you were not mistreated.”

  “How very kind,” she said, making no effort to conceal the bile in her voice. “There’s only one problem—I want no part of you. I’ll take my chances with Lachland.”

  “You’re a fool.” He tightened his hold on her hair, just enough to bring pain. With his free hand, he slid a folding knife from his pocket and freed the blade. “If Lachland didn’t think you’d fetch a good price, I’d mark that pretty face of yours. You’d show some respect.”

  “I respect those who deserve it.”

  His eyes narrowed to silvery slits. “You try my patience, you little—”

  The sudden squawk of hinges silenced him. Closing the knife, he concealed it in his hand.

  Lachland filled the doorway. His gaze lit on the gray-eyed man “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Checking on the woman.”

  “You’ve no cause to be here.” Lachland slowly entered the chamber. “Did you touch her?”

  “I know you’ve got plans for her. I wouldn’t damage her.” Shuffling on his feet, the gray-eyed man shot her an imploring look. “Tell him…tell him I’m speaking the truth.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Lachland took a step toward him, then another. “I gave an order, and you defied it.”

  Brandishing his knife, the gray-eyed man retreated a step. “I didn’t do anything to her. I only wanted to ensure her cooperation.”

  Lachland’s brows arched. “Is that puny blade supposed to frighten me? Put it away before you make me angry.”

  The gray-eyed man hesitated for a heartbeat, then stowed the knife in his pocket. “I did not mean any offense.”

  “Leave us. Now.”

  “Aye. I’ll just be on my way.”

  Without warning, Lachland lunged. Gaslight glinted off the dirk he’d stashed up his sleeve. The blade plunged into the gray-eyed man’s upper chest.

  Leana’s scream echoed in her ears. The stunned man clutched at the knife. Blood spread between his splayed fingers. Sounds of misery gurgled from his throat as he crumpled to his knees.

  Lachland pulled the blade from the man’s body and wiped it on his victim’s shirt. “Next time, you’ll know better, won’t you?”

  Leana fought to control her fear. “He needs help.”

  Lachland shrugged. “The bloke will live. It isn’t as if I carved out his heart.” A thin smile spread over his features. “I’ll save that amusement for another time.”

  A shot exploded from the upper deck. A cry of fear and agony followed.

  “Get back!” Lachland pulled her away from the porthole, dragging her against his body. “I can’t have my treasure being damaged now, can I?”

  “What’s happening?” she gasped.

  His eyes blazed with hatred. “It would appear Captain MacArron has finally decided to put in an appearance.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As the gunshot shattered the quiet of the night, James cursed the foul stroke of fate. He’d intended to commandeer Lachland’s vessel under cover of darkness, employing stealth as a weapon. He’d counted on most of the crew being asleep below deck, unprepared for an attack. Lachland’s demands had been blunt—the sword and treasure bound for London in exchange for Leana’s life. Did the arrogant cur believe Jamie would be so desperate and foolish that he’d raid the transport ship and meekly comply with his instructions? Or was the ransom demand nothing more than an elaborate scheme intended to lead Jamie to his death?

  Bugger the luck! His men had holstered their firearms, putting their swords and daggers to use in taking down the crew. The mate standing the watch had succumbed to his blade’s bite without much of a struggle, but another sharp-eyed watchman had spotted his men, putting a bullet in one of Jamie’s most trusted lieutenants and sounding the alarm. Rory had brought the bastard down before he could cause them more trouble. But the alarm had been sounded. Their advantage had been lost.

  God above, he had to get to Leana before her captor took out his vengeance on her—retribution intended to cut James to the marrow.

  “I’m goin’ below,” he shouted to Rory and his crewmen. “Keep these blighters occupied, if ye will.”

  “Aye, we’ve got this. Go to her.” Rory dodged a sword thrust and retaliated with a vicious slice of his saber. “Get the lass!”

  James seized the ship’s quartermaster by his shirt. He pressed his sgian dubh to the bastard’s throat. “Where is she? The lass?”

  “I dinna—”

  James shook him until his teeth rattled. “Tell me!”

  “Please…dinna kill me.” The man’s chest heaved with each ragged breath. “The woman…she is below deck. In the small cabin on the starboard side.”

  Anger simmered in Jamie’s veins. “Ye stood by while Lachland imprisoned a woman. What kind of man are ye, ye bluidy coward?”

  The man quaked against his hold. “I’ll tell ye whatever ye want.”

  “No worries, mate. I’ve no intention of spilling yer blood.” With that, he shoved the man. Hard. Bellowing with fear, the quartermaster toppled over the side into the murky water. “If ye can swim, mate, ye can make it to shore.”

  Jamie bit off an epithet between his teeth. All hell was breaking loose around him. Rory held off a burly blighter with his sword before tiring of the exercise and put
ting his pistol to good use, while the other half-dozen men who’d volunteered for this raid cut down Lachland’s crew, one by one. Jamie turned to the ladder leading below deck.

  “Where in hellfire do ye think ye’re goin’?” A towering man blocked his path. More than a head taller than Jamie and outweighing him by at least five stone, the behemoth was massive.

  Jamie scowled. Just his bluidy luck.

  Calculating his options, Jamie sized up his adversary. This was definitely not the time for a fair, honorable fight.

  An ugly grin marked the oaf’s blunt features. “Ye think I’m afraid of that knife? I’ll break yer back with my bare hands, mate. And then I’ll toss ye to the sharks.”

  He plunged his thick fist at Jamie’s head. Weaving to the side, Jamie dodged the blow. Another brutal punch followed, then another, each intended to send Jamie to oblivion.

  With each swift, evasive movement, Jamie led the big man away from the others. The behemoth didn’t appear to know Jamie had a gun, and he intended to keep it that way. He’d end this soon enough.

  But first, he needed a clear shot. He couldn’t risk the bullet plowing through the big bastard and into one of his crew.

  Pivoting on his heel, Jamie stepped to the side. Step by step, he led the cur to the side of the ship. With his back to the water, the cur would find no retreat.

  Shifting his dagger to his left hand, Jamie went for his pistol with his right.

  The oaf’s eyes widened. Fear flickered in his pale, bleary eyes.

  Jamie leveled the revolver at his chest.

  “Bluidy unsportin’ of ye, mate.” The oaf pitched himself over the rail, taking his chances in the churning sea.

  Jamie tucked the dagger into a sheath concealed beneath his shirt and stared into the sea. The big man fought the current, but appeared to be losing the battle.

  “You should’ve killed him when you had the chance,” Lachland announced as he emerged from the lower decks. His expression unreadable, he held Leana against his body, his arm locked around her slender throat. With his strength, he could snap her neck without breaking a sweat.