Rogue of the High Seas

by Cynthia Breeding

  Robert looked down. His boots were hand-tailored doeskin, soft and pliable for climbing ratlines with special soles for the deck and probably worth more than six months’ pay any sailor would earn. “Ja. They are.”

  “Then come on board.”

  He hurried up the gangplank and pulled off the coveted boots, which the watchman hurriedly tucked behind a barrel. Five minutes later, Robert walked back down in ill-fitting, stiff boots and rough-hewn but dry clothes. He grinned, pleased with the exchange. The sailor had his boots, but this clothing would allow Robert to blend in better with the dockworkers. Since he needed to stay close to the Dragon, he moved to lend a hand to one of them moving boxes off a wagon nearby.

  It didn’t take long before he spotted movement near the gangplank. A dapper-looking man dressed in a well-fitting overcoat appeared first. He didn’t look like someone who’d ever crewed aboard a ship, so he must be part of Alton’s master plan. A giant of a man hulked behind him, followed by two able-bodied sailors that had a hold on Shauna. Even from where he stood, Robert could see the red mark on her face. His fists clenched and he turned his attention back to the well-dressed man, noting the pale blue eyes and short-cropped brown hair. He would be easy to find again. Once Shauna was rescued, Robert was going to make sure whoever he was didn’t live long.

  He kept his head down as the group left the Dragon and walked across the quay to enter a side street. Robert lingered just long enough that leaving wouldn’t look suspicious, and then he slipped behind the wagon to follow them.

  Spotting them up ahead, Robert kept to the shadows of buildings, not wanting to get too close. He contemplated jumping them, but with no pistol and only a dagger, the odds weren’t good, and Shauna could get hurt. Better to follow and then go back to get Peter, Igor and Hans.

  They entered a rundown, seedy-looking boarding house a few blocks later. Robert stepped into a doorway across the street and studied the building. A small, two-storied structure, it had outside steps that led to a second-floor door in the middle of the right side of the building. There was probably a center hall with a couple of rooms on either side and maybe a water closet at the other end. If the house was similar to those in the States, the first floor would contain a public room, kitchen and quarters where the owner lived—which meant Robert and his men would only need to search the upstairs rooms.

  Robert looked up at the sun. From its overhead position, it was close to time for the midday meal. He’d never known sailors who didn’t have good appetites. If he hurried back to the New Orleans, he could return with his men while the pirates were eating. With any luck, only one of them might be guarding Shauna.

  He hoped it would be Alton’s accomplice, so he could put a quick end to him as well.

  Shauna scanned the room she had been taken to, careful not to look too obvious. On the second floor and away from the street, there was a window, but she could see it had been nailed shut. Faded wallpaper was beginning to peel and the wood floor had several rotting planks. The room itself was fairly large, although maybe it seemed so since there was only a single cot with a lumpy mattress, a hard-backed chair that she’d been shoved onto and a small table that had a chipped pitcher and basin on it. A tin chamber pot that smelled as if it hadn’t been cleaned sat in the corner. The room contained no wardrobe or dresser. Shauna was not really surprised since she suspected this boarding house did more business holding guests against their will than renting to anyone who would actually want to spend the night here.

  She’d tried to catch the proprietor’s eye when Nasim asked for the key, but the man was indifferent. The serving girl in the dirty mop cap who scurried past to the public room hadn’t even looked up. How many women had been sold through this place? Shauna remembered that the owner asked no questions, so he must be getting a percent of the transaction.

  “What kind of a pigsty is this?” Richard asked, looking around in disgust. “Your captain actually expects me to stay here while he barters?”

  One of the sailors shrugged. “You can go.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes. “You would like that, non? If I am not here when Haji comes, I might not get my money.”

  The sailor grinned at him, showing several teeth missing.

  “Well, I’m hungry,” the other sailor grumbled. “Let’s tie up the girl and go eat.”

  “I am not letting the bitch out of my sight,” Richard replied. “Not that I would even consider eating in a place like this.”

  “Suit yourself,” the sailor said. “Nasim? You coming?”

  The big man shook his head. “I stay.”

  As the two men left, Shauna wished Nasim had joined them. She still had her sgian dubh strapped to her calf. Richard would not think a woman would carry a knife, let alone know how to use it. She had no qualms at all about stabbing his gut and yanking the blade upward. Ian had taught her the belly was the most vulnerable target—other than the throat, which wasn’t practical for most women—and to use both hands for strength. She’d disable him. If infection didn’t set in and kill Richard, the healing process would be slow and painful. Her objective was to get away without him pursuing her.

  But now there were two of them. She wasn’t skilled enough to attempt to stab two men. Besides, she didn’t want to hurt Nasim. He had only been kind to her. Shauna stole a glance at him guarding the door and sighed. Even if she managed to disable Richard, Nasim was as impenetrable as a stone wall. Still, she had to try.

  “I’m thirsty,” she said to Nasim. “Would ye get me some water?”

  “No leave.” He reached down to remove a small flask from his belt and held it out. “Drink this?”

  “Put that back,” Richard said before she could answer and pointed to the pitcher on the table. “Drink that if you are thirsty.”

  Given the condition of the room—and the chamber pot—Shauna had no idea of how long water had been sitting in the pitcher. “That’s for washing, not drinking.”

  Richard smiled slowly and walked toward her. “You said you were thirsty.”

  “I…I changed my mind.”

  His gaze sharpened to glacier ice. “You will drink it.”

  “Nae.”

  “Oui.” Richard picked up the pitcher and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, and began to pour the water over her face.

  Shauna closed her eyes and sputtered as she slid her hand down her skirts for her knife. She’d just managed to unsheathe it when she heard a crack and the pitcher fell to the floor.

  She lurched forward, thrusting the knife upward while trying to shake the water out of her eyes. She heard a soft grunt as she managed to open her eyes and then gasped. She’d stabbed Nasim below his ribs. Richard lay on the floor, his head at a strange angle from his shoulders. Nasim must have broken Richard’s neck.

  Shauna put a hand to her mouth and stepped back. Her blade was still stuck in the big man’s side and she could see blood trickling from the wound. “I hurt you.”

  Nasim looked down and then grunted again. He placed one massive hand over the hilt and pulled it out. Then he looked at Shauna.

  Her blood chilled and for a moment, her legs refused to move. Then, as Nasim switched the knife to his other hand, survival instinct kicked in and she bolted for the door. She didn’t make it.

  For such a huge man, he’d moved quickly, holding the door shut with one hand, the knife pointing at her with the other. Then he smiled.

  “You take.”

  Her blood was pounding so loudly in her ears she didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. At least he hadn’t stabbed her…yet. “I…take?”

  Nasim nodded. “You take.” He turned the knife around and offered her the hilt. “Go now.”

  “G-go?” Shauna took her knife. “Ye are going to let me go?”

  “Go. Quick.” He opened the door and pointed down the hall. “Stairs.”

  She st
ared at him for a second and then raised on tiptoe to kiss his leathery cheek. “Thank ye. May the saints protect ye.”

  She turned once as she reached the side door. Nasim was smiling as though someone had handed him a sack of gold. She smiled back and then stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

  Once back on the street, she stayed close to the side of the building to get her bearings. She knew which way they had come from. She couldn’t risk going back to the wharf. Not only was the Dragon there, but it was quite possible the captain had already arranged for one of the faster pirate ships to transport her. Yet she knew nothing about the village she was in. Who would protect her? Did the town have a magistrate? Even if it did, she didn’t know where to find him.

  A church. She remembered seeing a small, stone chapel not far from the docks. Surely a church would take her in, but how much of a haven would it be? She didn’t know if pirates would honor the idea of sanctuary. She didn’t want to move in that direction, but it was her best hope.

  Shauna hurried down the street. Any moment now, the sailors could return to the room and find her gone. She prayed that since Richard was dead and Nasim wounded, the men would think a fight had ensued and she’d managed to escape. She didn’t want Nasim getting into trouble after he’d helped her.

  She turned into a lane that was little more than an alley. The two-story buildings lining the narrow street cast dark shadows even in midday, and she hoped no cutthroats lurked on any of the doorway stoops. Shauna would have avoided this stretch, but she didn’t know any other way of getting to the church. She unsheathed her knife and took a deep breath as she started forward.

  Her half-boots crunching on the cobblestone sounded like cannon fire with each step, but miraculously, all else was silent. No one stepped out to block her. Shauna breathed a big sigh of relief when she spotted the end of the walkway and stepped back into sunshine. The small church stood not far away. She slipped her sgian dubh back into its sheath and straightened her skirts. Then she began to walk.

  She’d taken only a few steps when she heard footfalls approaching fast behind her. Someone shouted, “There she is!”

  Shauna began to run. She didn’t get far before someone grabbed both her arms, stopping her cold. “I’ve got her, Captain!” a foreign voice called out.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Shauna fought like a wild cat. By the time Robert caught up to his men, Hans had long scratches on his cheek and Igor had a bloody nose. Both of them were cursing and so was Shauna. He elbowed his way past his crew and pulled Shauna to him, holding her tight so she couldn’t kick or flail at him. Hell, to be honest, he wanted to feel her body against his, even if she had managed to jab her knee dangerously close to a part of him he didn’t want damaged. He didn’t think anything had ever felt so good.

  “It’s Robert, sweetheart. You’re safe now. You’re safe now.”

  It took several precious moments before his words seemed to penetrate and she stopped struggling.

  “Robert?” Shauna leaned her head back and gazed up at him in wonderment. “Robert?”

  “Yes. You’re safe now.”

  “But how—”

  “We’d better hurry, Captain,” Peter said. “There are men in the alley coming this way.”

  Robert could hear the shouts and knew they’d been spotted. He started to pick Shauna up to carry her, but she had already dashed ahead. “This way,” he said as he caught up and pointed down the quay. “I’ve got the New Orleans ready to leave.”

  Shauna nodded and veered toward her left. Robert allowed himself a second or two to appreciate her exposed calves as she’d picked up her skirts to run. Her legs were long and slender and she was agile as the panthers that lived in the Louisiana swamps. A comparison that would have to keep. Robert raced after her.

  His crew had seen them coming. Already, some of the lines were being cast off by several sailors, while others stood by the rail, swords drawn. The two men following them were shouting to attract the attention of the Dragon’s crew. It didn’t take long before the pirates were swarming over the gunwales, dropping to the pier and running toward them.

  A musket fired from the Dragon and the ball landed in the water just beside the gangplank as they approached. Another struck the wooden pier, sending splinters into the air. “Stay low and get on board,” Robert told Shauna as he drew his own pistol and fired. He didn’t have time to see if she followed his instructions since his bullet had felled a man and sent the rest into a frenzy. A moment later, he and his three companions were engaged in combat as they fought their way up the gangplank. They made it to the deck along with several of the pirates. Robert’s crew descended with Gaelic war cries and Robert hoped his shouted order to cast off could be heard above the din. Already, several more shots had been fired at the New Orleans, and he didn’t need a hole in the hull to make things worse. Igor and Hans fired back. One musket ball landed on one of the Dragon’s furled sails, causing it to smolder. That caught the attention of the sailors who’d stayed on board and gave the New Orleans enough time to maneuver away from the quay. Several sailors tossed the wounded pirates over the side while others worked the oars and Hans and Igor turned to raising the jibs. Peter had the helm and Robert stood by the starboard rail as the New Orleans gained momentum, gun loaded to return fire, but no more came—only raised fists and angry curses from the pirates still standing on the wharf.

  Then he looked around. He’d ordered Shauna to get on board, but she was nowhere in sight.

  Shauna listened to the sounds of fighting overhead. As soon as her feet had landed on the deck, a gruff sailor had all but pushed her through the companionway hatch that led below with orders to go to the captain’s cabin. She desperately wanted to know what was going on and, more importantly, whether Robert was all right, but Ian’s training came back to her. He had drilled into her and Fiona repeatedly that they fight only in defense. A woman on the battlefield—so to speak—only created worry for her man and a distraction for the others. Shauna knew it made sense, but to sit and wait was enough to drive her mad.

  To try and take her mind off the battle on deck, she looked around Robert’s cabin. Located in the stern, portside, the walls were oiled teak, giving them a reddish-gold glow from the gimbaled lamp that hung from a bronze hanger. The bunk on which she sat was latched to the wall like most, but it had a plump feather mattress and smooth linen sheets. The fiddled table and two sturdy chairs were also bolted down, but the table was large enough for a chart and the chairs had leather seat and back pads. An ornately-carved, wooden trunk sat at the base of the bed and in the corner near the door was a metal sitz bath.

  The cabin was easily triple the size of the one on the Dragon, and much more comfortable. Robert had tossed the MacDonald tartan over the bunk to use as a coverlet. Shauna picked it up and burrowed her nose in the soft wool to inhale his scent of soap and leather. Was Robert all right on deck? She stood and began to pace.

  Finally, she felt the ship begin to move. They were leaving, and from the Scottish shouts of jubilation, they had deterred the Dragon crew. No longer able to stay confined, she stepped into the companionway and made her way up the ladder leading to the deck. The first person she saw was Robert, stomping forward, shouting to luff the sails. At first, Shauna thought they’d lost a crew member and were turning around to search, but then she heard him ask if anyone had seen her.

  She hurried toward his retreating back. “Robert! I am here.”

  He turned and the look of relief on his face was something Shauna didn’t think she’d ever forget. Then she was in his arms, held so tightly she could scarcely breathe, not that she cared. She clung to him as he bent and covered her mouth with his.

  Time and even the boat’s movement stilled as Shauna savored his kiss. Robert’s lips were warm and firm and he tasted slightly salty from the sea air. Instinctively, she parted her lips, wanting more of him, and he d
id not disappoint. His tongue swept in, hungrily devouring her while her own tongue did battle with his. It was only when they both lurched sideways and she heard something like rolling thunder that Shauna’s senses registered they were on a moving ship surrounded by men who were clapping and hollering. Robert must have realized it too as he slowly broke off the kiss. Her face felt as though it were on fire.

  “We’ll take this somewhere else,” he said and took her hand to lead her away from gawking, laughing sailors.

  She looked so damn beautiful with that blush slipping over her face that all Robert wanted to do was kiss her again. But Shauna was not a tavern wench, nor an experienced courtesan, so being quite thoroughly kissed in public was something he should have known would embarrass her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he helped her down the ladder to the companionway below. “I should have thought before I did that.”

  Shauna nibbled her lip. “Nae. I am the one who should have thought.”

  “You should have thought? You had no idea I was going to kiss you just then.”

  She shook her head. “I wanted ye to even though I ken ye are betrothed. ’Twas wrong of me.”

  He stared at her. “Why…how…how did you know?”

  “I overheard ye talking to Alasdair.”

  “You overheard—”

  “Aye,” she interrupted and looked at the floor. “I dinnae mean to eavesdrop. I was in the library, curled in a chair when the two of ye started to talk.”

  Robert frowned, thinking back. That conversation had been cut off when Ian and Shane had burst in. Shauna had only heard him say he was betrothed, but she didn’t know how the situation had been resolved. By the devil’s horns. No wonder she’d been so aloof with him the next morning. And yet…she’d wanted him to kiss her. And she had kissed him back. Not just a small kiss either, but full and deep, with all the passion he’d always thought lurked beneath her calm exterior.

  “You heard correctly,” Robert said. “But you didn’t hear all of it.”