“What about the man locked in the cabin?”
She shrugged, her gaze skittering away. She was trying to put Nicholas Addison in the appropriate place in her grand scheme. Unfortunately, he refused to go there, and just as unfortunately, Phin would see Addison’s effect on her. “I need him. He’s the only one who can give us the information we require.”
Phin snorted. “He didn’t seem the type to spill his secrets easily.”
“Aye. It might take time.”
And what was she to do with him until then? She couldn’t keep him locked away forever, and Kenmar would soon learn the Pride was taken and Addison was missing. Her issues weren’t with Kenmar or the men who insured Blackwell Shipping. Unfortunately, because they had the bad sense to invest in Blackwell, they were swept up in this.
There had always been the very real possibility she would come to the attention of the king himself—something she’d hoped to avoid. With Addison as her captive, the very real possibility became a near certainty.
“Who is he?” Phin asked, suspicion lacing his voice.
“Captain Nicholas Addison.”
“Never heard of him, but by the looks of his crew it appears Blackwell is finding it difficult to procure decent sailors.”
Emmaline’s back went straight at the implication that Addison was in any way like his crew. “Captain Addison is a highly skilled captain. He did the best he could with what he was given.”
Phin’s eyebrows shot up and the aforementioned suspicion blazed hotly in his eyes. Bloody hell, she’d said too much, revealed too much.
“Kenmar hired him to discover who was behind the attacks on Blackwell Shipping. Apparently he’d been in the Royal Navy prior to serving Kenmar,” she said.
Phin looked at her closely. “What aren’t you telling me, Anne?”
For a moment, panic erased her exhaustion. What did he know? And how did he know it? Was it written on her face that Nicholas Addison touched her where no other man, save one, dared? That he kissed her like only one other had even attempted?
“All I’m saying is Addison isn’t like his crew. He’s a damn fine captain.”
Phin leaned against the wall and crossed a booted foot over his ankle, contemplating her with eyes that saw too much. “You can get this information other ways. Hell, we could sail to Boston, break into Blackwell’s office and steal it ourselves. Addison’s merely a captain. He doesn’t know anything.”
“He knows who I am. He knows who Emmaline Sutherland is.” And that could be deadly. Even Aunt Dorothy didn’t know who Emmaline Sutherland truly was. If she did, if the knowledge became public, her aunt would become a pariah in society and it would devastate Dorothy. Even worse, Dorothy could be in trouble with the crown, and that would devastate Emmaline.
“So what do you plan on doing with him?” Phin asked.
Images of their heated kiss in Addison’s office instantly came to mind. Emmaline desperately pushed them away for fear Phin would see her thoughts in her expression. He wasn’t a mind reader, but he knew far more about her than anyone else and he was adept at discerning her thoughts—something that certainly served them well in battle, but not now. Now she wanted to keep her kiss with Addison to herself.
Phin was like a brother to her, but it hadn’t always been that way. At one point, it had been Phin who’d kissed her. Their relationship—if you could even call it that—never progressed because they were too much alike. They both liked to have things their way and they discovered they were far better business partners than lovers.
“We can’t keep him locked in the cabin forever,” he said.
“I know.”
“And you can’t take him home with you. Knowing who you are is one thing, taking him to our hideout is another.”
“I know,” she snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry. Things happened quickly and I had to think fast. I couldn’t let him go. Who knows what tales he’d take back to London. Give me some time.”
Phin watched her for several long moments, assessing her, digesting everything she told him with skepticism. Eventually he would figure out Nicholas Addison meant more to her than a threat to her safety and when he did, she couldn’t predict how he would act.
“Where are we going from here?” Phin asked.
Hell, would be her answer. But then she was already in hell, had been for eleven years. Since she was sixteen and her entire world collapsed.
She rubbed her temples. “Home. I want to go home.” More than she ever had before. “But first I want to sleep. I haven’t slept in two days and I’m exhausted.”
Phin turned to go but stopped when Emmaline called his name. “Thank you for rescuing us.”
“You scared me to death, Anne.” His voice grew husky with concern.
“Certainly not the first time.”
A rueful smile tugged at his lips. “We didn’t even know Alphonse was in the area. You think fast on your feet. I’ve always admired that about you.”
“And you’ve always been available to get me out of sticky situations when I happen to fall into them.”
“Yes, well, you’ve done the same for me.”
She laughed. “There is that. Now go. I’m falling asleep on my feet. I’ll be up in a few hours.”
He nodded. “Sleep well, Anne.” He scooped up her gown and shut the door behind him.
Why do you think?
Nicholas lay on a bunk in a cabin that was really a prison, Emmaline’s words circling his mind. Why do you think?
He fully expected to be in the dank brig of this newest pirate ship after his personal mutiny against her. Instead he lay on a soft mattress, his hands untied, a porthole above his bunk allowing meager sunlight to penetrate. He would have preferred the brig than to be indebted to Lady Anne for his accommodations.
He rolled over, his thigh an agony of pain, pushed himself up and placed his feet on the ground. His leg immediately buckled when he stood, and he had to lean against the wall to keep from falling on his face. Slowly he stretched the taut muscle, grimacing at the pain, and took stock of his situation.
He might be in a cabin, but his accommodations were far from luxurious. The bunk was built into the wall. The mattress was made of straw instead of feathers, as his captain’s bunk had been, and there was nothing else in the room. No table. No chair. Not even a chamber pot to use as a weapon.
He limped to the door, tugged on it and swore. Locked.
“Damn it!” He slammed the flat of his palm against the wood and made his way back to his bunk to peer out the porthole. They were heading southwest at a good clip. No land in sight, which was a disappointment but not unexpected. Two sloops followed them. Pirate ships built for speed and heavily armed with twelve guns each that hollowed his stomach with dread.
He understood he’d been tempting fate when he accepted the captain’s position on the Pride, but he’d done it anyway. He hadn’t expected to fall victim to pirates, scoffing at the idea of a woman pirate named Lady Anne.
Now he was a prisoner to the elusive woman.
A woman who’d also infiltrated polite society.
A woman who’s body had been pliant against his, whose kisses inflamed him and even now set his teeth on edge at the memory.
’Twas merely a folly, she’d said of their kiss. And much to his embarrassment, he’d been cut to the quick at her flippant words. As if she kissed a man like that every day. As if what they shared, the heat and the need and the … rightness of it all, was nothing to her.
He growled with the frustration of the remembered kiss that had been much more than merely a folly to him, and at his foolishness in believing it was much more to her.
While all along she’d been stealing from you, hiding those papers from you while you kissed her and touched her and lost control in a way you’ve never lost it before.
Emmaline’s image was nothing but an illusion to mask the evil inside her and he’d fallen for the illusion. The woman he’d thought he held in his arms didn’t e
xist at all.
With a vicious curse, he swung away from the porthole and the view of the pirate ships following them.
And to think he’d felt guilty for what he perceived as a ruthless and shameless attack on her, when it had been nothing compared to the attacks she’d perpetrated in the last several months.
Why do you think?
Why did he think Emmaline stole important information from him? Not because she was sent by Kenmar to spy on him. Hell, he would have preferred that reason over the other.
He forced himself to remember her laughing eyes when he warned her at the ball that pirates were a very real threat. He’d assumed her laughter was harmless flirtation. Now he realized she’d been mocking him.
His fingers curled into fists. Hatred burned through him.
The lock lifted from the outside and the door swung in. The pirate named Phin stepped through, ducking in order to make it through the opening.
For a long moment the two stared at each other, neither moving. Nicholas with smoldering, insidious hatred and Phin with curiosity laced with suspicion.
Nicholas recalled the moment Emmaline had stepped up to Phin, and the way her eyes sparkled in what he could only describe as delight. Unconsciously, he rubbed his chest where his heart pounded in dread and horror.
After learning she was Lady Anne, he’d begun to suspect her tale of a husband was a ruse, like everything else that spilled from her lips. But what if it wasn’t? What if she was married to Phin?
Good God. The thought had him staggering back. Phin and Emmaline? Immediately, his heart wanted to deny it, but his head wouldn’t let the thought die. Jealousy surged through him. Like a wounded animal he wanted to attack the man, and barely held himself together to remain civil.
“Where is she?” He pushed the words out through a tight throat.
Phin cocked his head, his expression amused. Mocking? Did he know Nicholas kissed Emmaline? That his hands knew her curves intimately?
“Who?” Phin asked.
“Mrs. Sutherland.” He couldn’t force himself to call her Lady Anne.
A mocking smile lifted one corner of Phin’s mouth. “She is well. Fast asleep in her own cabin.”
Nicholas’s gut twisted at the image of Phin tumbling Emmaline’s naked body onto the bunk, before his mind snapped to reality. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if she were Nicholas’s woman. She was a pirate, for God’s sake. It would be best if he remembered that and put his mind toward more important things, like his crew and the predicament he found himself in.
“Where is my crew?”
“They boarded tenders and were set free.”
Setting prisoners free in tenders was a common pirate tactic. A humane pirate tactic. While he didn’t want to be beholden to these people, he was relieved to hear his crew had been freed. “Were they given food and water?”
“Aye.”
It was the best Nicholas could hope for, and better than being on this ship, captive to pirates. Like he was.
“Are you the captain of this ship?” he asked.
“Quartermaster.”
Ah, quartermaster, second in command. Nicholas was surprised. If anyone possessed leadership qualities, Phin did.
“I wish to speak to the captain.”
Phin frowned. “Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because the captain does not wish to speak to you at this time.”
He shook with impotent rage. Two years ago he vowed never to feel this helpless again. That he did now, at the hands of her, ate at him. “Why is that? Because she doesn’t want to face me?”
“You best watch what you say.” Phin stepped closer, his hand curling around the hilt of the sword that hung at his side. Anger replaced his earlier amusement and straightened his wide shoulders.
“Or what?” Nicholas asked. “What are your plans for me?”
“You ask too many questions.” Phin’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Nicholas understood why people whispered his name in fear. Oh, Nicholas had heard the rumors. Any sailor worth his salt knew of Phin’s terror on the seas. Ruthlessly attacking and plundering ships. There was a substantial price on the man’s head, which merely increased his fame. That Emmaline was associated with him disappointed Nicholas.
But the rumors of Phin’s reputation were nothing compared to Nicholas’s fury. He was the brother to the ninth Earl of Claybrook. Nobility ran in his blood. He would not let these pirates best him.
Nicholas leaned forward, barely inches from Phin’s face. “I won’t pirate for you, and if your purpose is to ransom me, you will be waiting a long while. My brother won’t pay.”
In truth, his brother would pay, but Nicholas didn’t want Phin to know this, nor did he want his brother to discover he’d been taken by pirates. He’d caused his family enough grief when he’d been injured, and the doctors hadn’t known if he would survive. They didn’t need more.
Phin moved to the door, but did so cautiously, without turning his back to Nicholas. “I will tell the captain you are resting comfortably in your accommodations.”
“You can give the captain a message from me while you’re at it.”
Phin waited, and Nicholas said, “Tell her that when she has time, I would like a tour of her ship.”
Emmaline’s door flew open with such force it hit the wall and bounced back. She grabbed the cutlass at her side, had it half out of its sheath before she recognized Phin.
“Damn it, Phin. I should run you through. What’s the purpose barging into my cabin like this?”
“Who is he, Anne?” He stormed in, his green eyes snapping in fury.
Her sword dipped until the point touched the floor. “Who?”
“Addison. Who is he, really?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” But she did. Her heart pounded and her hand turned sweaty on the hilt of her sword. She sheathed the weapon and leaned it against her bunk.
“He’s not merely some sea captain. A sea captain doesn’t speak the way Addison speaks.” He took a step toward her. “A sea captain doesn’t have the dignified bearing Addison does.” He took another step. “A sea captain doesn’t look down his nose at people he thinks inferior. Like Addison does.”
Phin’s chest was practically heaving with the effort to control his fury. “Who is he?”
Emmaline’s mind took flight. Phin had a right to know what she’d done, but it didn’t mean she wanted to tell him. She’d been irresponsible, something she rarely was, and this irresponsibility might kill them all. Especially Phin, who had a substantial bounty on his head. Damn it! She was never this reckless.
“He’s the brother to Sebastian Addison, Earl of Claybrook.”
“Bloody hell,” he whispered. His face lost some of its color. “What have you done?”
Her chin went up. “I couldn’t let him go, not now that he knows my real identity.”
“He’s nobility, Anne.” The words were soft, but might as well have been shouted. Phin was furious and he had every right to be.
“His brother has the ear of the king. The king, Anne. Do you know what that means?”
“Of course I know what that means. What would you have me do? He knows who I am.”
“Kill him.”
“No.” The thought made her physically ill. Addison was a good man caught in bad circumstances. Killing him would … kill the last remaining kernel of decency that still existed inside her.
“This will be the ruin of us all.”
“Not necessarily.”
Phin made a rude noise. “And how, pray tell, do you figure? He’s the brother of an earl. Hell, he probably has his own damn title. He’s been kidnapped by pirates. When Claybrook discovers this—and don’t believe he won’t—he’ll go to the king and a bounty will be put on your head. Not to mention that the already enormous bounty on my head will increase.”
She winced and looked away. “I know.”
“Then what are you going to do about it?” This time, he did
yell.
“Well I certainly can’t kill him now. That will bring down the royal wrath for sure.”
He glared at her, his green eyes bright with fury. “This isn’t like you. What happened between you and Addison that suddenly you’re squeamish about killing?”
Emmaline glared at the floor, hating the guilt eating at her. She was a grown woman. She was allowed to kiss whom she wanted, when she wanted, and she didn’t have to answer to anyone for it. Especially not Phin, whose own prowess was well-known and talked about everywhere.
She never questioned him about whom he kissed. But his escapades had never put them in peril.
“Dear God, you have feelings for him, don’t you? Look at me, Anne, and tell me you harbor no feelings for the man.”
Emmaline was able to captain a crew of bloodthirsty men without hesitation. She could attack and plunder ships, run a sword through an enemy’s heart without a thought. But she’d never been able to lie to Phin, and he knew it.
“It’s not what you think,” she said.
When he didn’t answer, she chanced a look at him, then wished she hadn’t. The fury was still there, but beneath it lurked pain.
Bloody hell. This was becoming more and more complicated.
“Phin—”
“He’s the brother of an earl. Nothing good can come from this.”
“I am aware. You need not keep repeating it.” Oh, how she was aware. Addison was everything she was not. Her course was plotted eleven years ago. His was plotted since birth, and their paths should never have crossed. Only bad luck made it so.
“I hope you haven’t set your sights on a goal that is completely out of your reach.”
Emmaline stilled. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you saying, Phin?”
He glared at her. “He’s not your people and you certainly are not his people.”
Her fingers folded into fists. Lord, how she wanted to take a swing at him. Punch him right in the jaw. But for what? For being brutally honest?
“I should never have allowed you to embark on this fool plan.” He ran a hand through his long hair and paced away.
She lifted her eyebrows and forced her fingers to relax. “As if you allow me anything.”
The Notorious Lady Anne: A Loveswept Historical Romance Page 7