The Pirate Lord

by Vanda Vadas

  Each man moved with a sense of purpose, working at designated tasks. A pile of knives and swords lay at one man’s feet. The broad blade cutlass he honed glinted in the sun. Its razor-sharp edge would kill a man with one swift blow. Eloise shuddered, her gaze shifting to a group of men who fixed broken pulleys and used metal-spiked tools to separate strands of rope.

  Squawking chickens stole her attention from the repairs to a stack of wooden crates where a man hunkered down, plucking feathers from a lifeless bird.

  Shouts from above drew her gaze to the ratlines running to the mastheads and yards. Men climbed aloft, high above the deck. Despite their precarious position they worked easily, adjusting the wind-filled sails.

  She closed her eyes and breathed the crisp, clean sea air. The ocean’s invigorating briny smell was as potent as a dose of smelling salts. She’d never felt so alive.

  Her eyes snapped open at the sound of a familiar, sure stride.

  Zach, shirtless like so many of his men, stared straight at her with unsmiling eyes and a tight mouth. And yet, he still took her breath away. The tidy bandage on his left arm was perhaps the handiwork of the ship’s doctor. His right shoulder, where Julian had pierced the flesh with his sword, was healing nicely with no hint of infection.

  Guilt pricked her conscience. Both she and her brother had caused injury to a man who least deserved it. A man who sought to avenge the injustice brought against him.

  Even so, she had no regrets passing judgement on the way he continued to live his life. If it was important for Zach to know she believed him innocent of murdering her parents, then it was equally important he understand her wish to have him confide in Julian. To pursue justice through the appropriate channels.

  She would not condone his taking matters into his own hands. She couldn’t bear the thought of Zach being hanged at Execution Dock by the River Thames. Distracted by the confronting image, she moved to exit the cabin and tripped on the storm step. He dashed forwards, arms outstretched and caught her. He groaned when her fingers accidentally dug into the bandage covering his fresh wound.

  His hands tightened about her waist and something in his eyes shifted. He sent a scathing glance over his left, and then right shoulder. Crewmen nervously averted their stares as if the captain and his captive were invisible.

  Eloise took note. ‘A mere glance from you and your men cower.’

  His hands fell away from her waist. He took a step back. ‘Nothing more than a warning. There are consequences for unacceptable behaviour aboard my ship.’

  Her chin lifted. ‘Of course. Pirates are a law unto themselves.’ Her barb drew no reaction from him. A sudden foreboding arrowed along her spine. ‘What punishment did you mete out to my attacker?’ Her question met with confronting silence. ‘Am I to assume that, with a name like Captain Heartless, you … you …?’

  ‘I didn’t have him killed, if that’s what you’re asking. But then his intentions were not those of a man who deserves to live.’

  Eloise had been rescued. How many other women had suffered ruin at his hands? That she should wish her attacker dead, ashamed and shocked her. ‘Is that how you command this ship, by having your men live in fear of consequence should they not obey you?’

  Zach turned away briefly and nodded to someone at the opposite end of the deck. ‘Not fear. Mutual respect. Without it, we’re lost. Without law, there is no order.’

  ‘Yes.’ She hastened to lay a hand on his forearm. ‘Which is why you must give up this idea of taking Gareth’s life if he doesn’t confess. Please. Trust Julian as I trust you. English law will prove Gareth guilty. Let him die with a noose around his neck, not by your hand.’

  Zach’s eyes darkened like a man drained of his soul. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘English law? Such idealism comes a little too late.’

  ‘It’s never too late to redeem yourself!’

  His eyes widened in surprise. He pried her hand from his arm. ‘I don’t seek redemption, Eloise.’

  ‘How many men have you killed?’ She immediately regretted the question. It was unfair to ask.

  His hands clenched by his sides. ‘In order to survive? More than I care to admit. I do not take lives for the sheer sport of it!’

  ‘Would it not make a difference then, to have one less man’s blood on your hands?’

  ‘Not if it’s Gareth’s blood.’

  It was a chilling declaration. ‘It would make all the difference to me. Mutual respect. Without it, we’re lost. Isn’t that what you said?’ She was a fool to care about him. Even more of a fool to think he cared enough about her to want to earn her respect.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Respectable or not, my profession is a means to an end.’

  Was there nothing she could say to make him change his mind? Before she could pursue the matter further, a tall man of medium build approached and stood alongside Zach. He looked of similar age to his captain. A thin scar ran from the left corner of his mouth, down his neck, and disappeared beneath his collared shirt. Eloise let her gaze linger a little too long.

  ‘A legacy of my youth,’ the man explained.

  She immediately recognised the intonation of his voice. ‘Seth!’ He had an unshaven, sun-weathered face and kind hazel eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to stare.’

  ‘No matter. I’m used to it.’ He smiled and executed a mock bow. ‘The captain has given me the pleasure of acquainting you with the Justice.’

  Her gaze slid to Zach. She’d hoped the pleasure would be his. Clearly, he meant to keep his distance.

  Zach dismissed the helmsman from his duties and took command of the wheel. Hell. He had to take command of something. This growing hunger for Eloise and her company left him feeling like a helpless half-wit.

  Suffering her tempting presence over the course of their voyage would be his most difficult challenge yet. As for his crew? He had no choice but to assert his authority. Their eyes had lit up like lanterns the moment she’d appeared on deck. The flogging her attacker received served as a timely reminder of the sanctity of each man’s contract. They’d sworn allegiance to Zach. They’d subscribed to a set of written articles. The point of disciplinary measures was to forge formidable unity between captain and crew.

  But they were men, after all, even if some of them did have a wife and family. A pretty woman with enticing curves could weaken the strongest of men and he, their captain, had already fallen at her feet.

  Sail the stars. Pick yourself up, man!

  His vow of revenge was no less sacred than a husband’s vow of fidelity. Whether he stayed faithful to his cause or not, the thought of another man possessing Eloise drove him to the brink of madness. This was her first day on deck and already he considered keeping her under lock and key, limiting her appearances to night-time strolls. Darkness would cloak her femininity when the crew bedded down for the night, save for those on watch.

  It paid to remember he had no right or claim on her. A woman of her breeding would not give herself long-term to a man she considered barbaric, the scourge of the sea. It didn’t matter that he was legally of noble rank. He was a wanted man. England had shunned him. His past was a blemish on his present and future, something Eloise would not overcome.

  In her eyes he was no better than an uncivilised heathen. She’d set herself the task of converting him. Zach laughed. He was beyond salvation. She’d realise that soon enough.

  He would protect her at all costs while keeping her at arm’s length. Bedding her had been a mistake. God help him. Where she was concerned, he didn’t trust himself not to make the same mistake again.

  Eloise gaped at the ship’s galley. Blakely House boasted a kitchen ten times the grandeur of this and yet, on a daily basis, it catered for fewer people. How did one person prepare food here for an entire crew?

  The small cook area was copper-plated and bricked. Fire would devour the ship if not for constant vigilance.

  Seth introduced her to Cook. The man’s stature was surprisingly thin for a middle
-aged man of his vocation.

  He stirred a pungent concoction in a cast-iron cauldron, and informed her of the crew’s victuals. ‘For as long as provisions last, my dear, you can expect a morning compulsory feed of porridge and prunes.’ He glanced briefly at her beneath long wiry brows. ‘To avoid constipation, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ agreed Eloise, a little disconcerted by his matter-of-fact suggestion that one’s bodily functions should run just as efficiently as the rest of this ship.

  ‘According to my strict rationing we’ll have enough salted meat and hard tack …’ He stopped stirring with the wooden spoon and gave Eloise his full attention. ‘Biscuits, my dear. A staple food for a mariner.’

  When she nodded to show her understanding, he resumed stirring the simmering broth. ‘It’s just those darn wriggling weevils spoil the taste once the biscuits age.’

  Her skin crawled. He looked at her again, baring a gap-toothed grin. Eloise very much doubted the nutritional value of his menu. Then again, she’d not sighted one undernourished crewman aboard this ship.

  Cook prattled on. ‘Never mind the weevils, my dear. Chew fast so you don’t feel the little critters dart across your tongue. Wash them down with a swig of rum and they’ll not get stuck between your pearly whites.’

  Her stomach lurched. Eloise threw a disbelieving look at the lieutenant.

  Seth nodded. ‘’Tis true. Every word of it.’

  ‘Now,’ continued Cook, ‘if you like cackle-fruit, chicken eggs, my dear, I’m able to oblige.’ He picked up a cleaver and waved it in her face. ‘Unless we need to sacrifice and boil the bird.’

  Eloise jumped back in fright.

  ‘But,’ he continued, ‘if we’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to rations, then you might just find one of these on your plate.’ He casually lifted the spoon from the broth, tapped it on the edge of the pot and pointed it at her feet.

  Eloise looked down to see a large rat scurry beneath her skirts. She reacted in the manner of a madwoman, stomping on the floor and screaming as if Cook had taken the cleaver to her neck.

  A cacophony of female shrieks and raucous male laughter filled the galley.

  Eloise fled to the deck above. Her hysterical ravings drew the amusement of the crew. She hopped from one foot to the other as though being forced to dance over hot coals. Her hands batted and smoothed over every inch of her skirt, thinking the rat had scaled the fabric beneath it.

  Seth raced to her side. ‘I assure you, the rat ran out the other side of your skirts. I believe you managed to frighten it more than it terrified you.’

  Eloise sent him a scathing glance, knowing herself to be the victim of ignorance with the realities of life aboard ship. The corners of Seth’s mouth twitched and in his eyes she saw how much he’d enjoyed Cook’s ruse. She could see he tried his best to conceal another bout of laughter at her expense.

  When at last her pride fractured, and her pressed lips cracked into a smile, they both doubled over in fits of laughter.

  A booming voice silenced them. All eyes swung to the helm to see the captain pointing at the dark green tinge on the horizon. ‘Lieutenant! Crewmen! We’re in for a soaking. Furl the canvas. Secure rope and cannon. Stow loose items away. Each man to your tasks below and above deck. Get to it!’

  The men scrambled to do his bidding. Zach stepped down to the quarterdeck. ‘Lieutenant, take the lady to my cabin and then return to your duties.’ His resolute gaze settled on Eloise. ‘Under no circumstance do you set foot outside. Is that clear?’

  She stiffened at his terse command. ‘Yes, Captain.’ His steely gaze made her feel guilty of insubordination.

  ‘It’s for your own safety,’ he said. ‘Now go.’

  Seth placed a hand to her elbow and led her away. ‘Do not disobey the captain’s order.’ He held the cabin door open for Eloise to enter.

  She refused to budge. ‘The man who attacked me, what punishment did he receive?’

  ‘’Tis not your concern.’

  ‘I want to know.’

  He shook his head. ‘A lady of your quality would doubtless swoon at knowing the penalty of his crime.’

  Eloise thrust her chin in the air. ‘I’m not prone to swooning. Tell me.’

  Seth looked up at the rumbling clouds. ‘He was tied to the gratings and flogged.’

  Eloise had visions of bloody, lacerated flesh. ‘By the captain’s hand?’

  ‘No. ’Twas the duty of the bosun. You must understand that our code of conduct goes unquestioned. Life aboard this ship means belonging to an egalitarian community. Decisions are made collectively. He breached our law and was punished accordingly.

  ‘You’re a distraction aboard this ship, my lady, yet none of the regular crewmen would disrespect or dishonour the captain in any way. We each owe our freedom to him. Now step inside the cabin.’ He urged her forwards.

  Eloise slapped a hand about his wrist. ‘No. Wait. My attacker was not one of your regular crew?’

  He shook his head. ‘Our contacts in Cornwall advised he was being pursued for a crime he swore he didn’t commit.’

  Eloise sighed in understanding. ‘The captain related to his plight.’

  ‘Yes. He thought to give the man a second chance at life. Bad enough that he should betray the captain’s trust. Now the captain blames himself for what happened to you. Had the swine carried out his intentions, we’d have keelhauled him until his last breath.’

  Eloise shuddered at the gruesome-sounding punishment. ‘What has become of him?’

  ‘We took him ashore. His fate lies in the hands of those who recommended him.’ Seth sniffed the air. ‘Enough now. Prepare yourself and stay in the cabin. I fear this storm will give us a good fight.’

  An ominous silence settled over the Justice.

  A single bolt of lightning streaked across blackened skies, followed by an earth-shattering crack of thunder. The ocean grew restless. Choppy waves dashed against the ship’s hull.

  Zach and his crew watched and waited, readying themselves to wage war with the elements.

  The breeze kicked up. The air held the scent and sure promise of rain. Fat droplets fell intermittently, nature’s way of laughing in the face of ship and crew. Zach had enough experience to recognise it as a precursor of what was to come.

  The world fell deathly silent before a strong gust of wind hit with a cowardly strike from behind. Zach spun around to face the challenge head on. ‘Here she comes. Brace yourself!’

  Biting wind whipped up as if on cue. Zach lunged for the mizzenmast and knotted a length of rope between the solid timber mast and his waist.

  The bowsprit pierced a hard wall of rain. The Justice plunged into a nightmare. Relentless wind lashed the ship from every angle, threatening to unfurl and shred the tightly bound sails and snap the masts.

  Powerful waves crashed down to saturate the decks, dousing the crew with cold saltwater. It swished and sloshed about their feet and filtered into the galley below.

  The ocean swelled forwards en masse, then reversed direction, playing with the ship as if it were a toy to toss about at will. Engorged black clouds dumped rain as hard as musket balls.

  Zach bellowed orders. The ship pitched to one side. ‘Move along, men. Move along!’

  They scrambled starboard only to feel the wrath of another wave crashing down on them, testing the strength of their grip on rope and railings.

  ‘Hold fast,’ Zach yelled through the roar of rain and thunder. He knew that the fear of being washed overboard would stay uppermost in every man’s mind. He shouted encouragement, reinforcing their resolve to outlast the storm. ‘Steady on! Sea and sky are your enemies today. Tomorrow they’ll be your closest friends.’

  A barrage of shouts and cussing carried to his ears after another wave washed over them. It was impossible to dismiss the soul-wrenching reality that the ocean would swallow whole his ship and crew.

  A more terrifying realisation struck him.

  Elo
ise. He could not lose her.

  The elements aside, inner demons conjured a tempest in his heart and mind. He grappled with pent-up obsession and need for his green-eyed captive and with his revenge-fuelled anger.

  In this moment, Eloise was his priority. He lived to keep her alive and safe. Conquer nature’s storm, and repress the threat of weaker emotions.

  ‘Captain!’

  Zach swung his gaze around to see his lieutenant pointing to the main topsail. The canvas had loosened from its bindings. Block and tackle smacked against the timbers. If not secured, the sail would unravel and tear. The canvas and mast would be destroyed. They would flounder in the storm like a fish on dry land.

  Rain-soaked, Seth pressed forwards through the driving rain, embracing the mast seconds before another wave pummelled his back. He waited before picking the right moment to leap onto the rope ladder alongside the mast. Wind buffeted him from all directions. He squinted in reaction to the stinging sea-spray, his ascent slow yet sure.

  Below, Zach continued to shout orders at his men as they strived to maintain control of his ship. His gaze swung to the helm. His gut clenched. The wheel spun haphazardly to the left and to the right, at the whim of the wind’s control. A length of rope tied to the wheel thrashed about in the storm. And the man who should be tethered to it?

  ‘Judd!’ Zach yelled. His wild gaze ran the length of the water-filled deck to find his man lying prone against the rail. The swell of an oncoming wave loomed beyond the ship.

  ‘Judd! The rails!’ Zach’s desperate shout spurred his man into action. The first mate shook his head, dazed, obeyed the order and held firm as the wave engulfed him.

  When the wave cleared, Zach bellowed, ‘The wheel!’

  Judd clawed his way along the slippery deck, then stood and lunged for the rope. He tied a knot around his waist, reached for the helm and regained control of the spinning wheel.