His Pirate Seductress (Love on the High Seas Book 3)

by Tamara Hughes

  “Barnet!” Catherine grabbed the ale from the table and splashed him in the face. “Stop! Come to your senses.”

  Barnet continued his pounding.

  She launched herself onto his back, her dagger ready. Before she could threaten him with the weapon, he roared out, half stood, and threw her off. She crashed against the small table, tipping it over, and pain shot through her shoulder as she landed hard on the floor. The contents of the table scattered all around.

  “Catherine?” As if the madness she’d just witnessed had vanished like smoke, Barnet raced to her side and kneeled next to her. “Are you injured?”

  Biting back a groan, she sat and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m fine.” At least they’d stopped fighting.

  Thomas made a move to come closer, blood dripping from his nose, and Barnet pulled his knife from its sheath. “This is your fault,” Barnet snarled.

  She narrowed her eyes and grabbed Barnet’s arm. “His fault? That you shoved me?”

  “I didn’t mean to. He—”

  “You had no right to attack him.” Catherine rose to her feet, her shoulder still throbbing. “I’m a grown woman, and I make my own decisions.”

  “No.” Barnet’s stare sharpened, determination in his eyes. He retrieved the dagger she’d lost during her fall and slipped it into his own sheath. “You, my girl, have been left alone to fend for yerself and Jonas for far too long already. You need a man to lean on, someone more reliable than Peter…” Barnet pointed his knife at Thomas, “or him.”

  “And that man would be you?”

  “Why not me? I’ve known you just about yer whole life.”

  “As friends.” She’d never thought of him as anything but a friend.

  “Only ’cause of Peter.” He took her hand in his, his hold tight. “Now we can be more. We can sail the world, you and I.”

  Her heart spluttered to a halt. “Is that why you agreed to have me as captain on this voyage? To convince me to stay with you?”

  “Aye,” Barnet admitted. “With you as captain, all knew not to give you trouble, but once I lay claim to you, there’ll be no more need for the pretense.”

  “Lay claim?” The possessiveness of those two words chafed. Living in the warren of St. Giles, she’d had plenty of men who had wanted to lay claim to her. She’d fended them off, one by one. “There is no pretense here. The crew voted unanimously. I am the captain of this ship. And just because you found me with a man, doesn’t mean—”

  Barnet’s grip became painful. “Marry me, Catherine.”

  Oh, God. She’d known he had a fondness for her, but marriage? “I can’t.” She attempted to yank her hand out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let her go. All the while Thomas watched them with a tenseness to his posture and a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I won’t ever marry again,” she insisted. Peter had taught her well that the only one she should rely on was herself.

  Thomas glanced toward her sword in the corner. No, he’d be a fool. Barnet could call reinforcements at any time. Her gaze connected with Thomas’s for an instant, and she shook her head in the barest movement before she returned her attention to Barnet. “Besides, you deserve someone who loves you in a romantic way. That’s simply not how I feel toward you.”

  Barnet’s lip curled, his glare settling on Thomas. “Because you have feelin’s for him.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t have to. You’ve protected the man ever since he was captured.”

  “I don’t want any more innocent men to die because of me.” Enough had been wounded or killed when they’d first attacked.

  “What are their lives worth when compared to your son and mother?” Releasing her hand, Barnet stepped toward the window and wedged his blade between the boards at his feet.

  “No!” Her breath catching in her throat, she rushed forward. Too late. He snatched the Ruby Cross from its hiding place—a location he’d shown her, insisting the cross would be safe. And it had been, just not from him.

  She held out her hand. “Give it to me,” she demanded, a chill racing along her flesh.

  His stare darkened. “Marry me, and together we will save Jonas and Patience.”

  That chill turned into heat, fury burning a hole into her chest. “Are you threatening my family?”

  He shook his head. “I’m offerin’ to help.”

  “If I marry you.”

  “Aye.”

  “If I don’t?” she bit out. “What then?” Catherine clenched her fists, the threat to her son too much to bear. “I will hate you forever if my son and mother die because of you.”

  A movement caught her eye, Thomas going for the sword. The fool. Catherine’s heart nearly broke free from her chest as Barnet called out for his men. Two of them entered, and Thomas stopped in his tracks, the sword still well out of his reach.

  “Seize him,” Barnet ordered, then faced her. “What should we do with him, Catherine? Will he live or die?”

  His implication was clear. Thomas’s fate depended upon her answer to Barnet’s proposal. Marry Barnet and spare Thomas’s life? She didn’t have to think long to decide. “Don’t kill him.”

  Barnet nodded once and turned to his men. “Take him away. Lock him in the storage room at the end of the hall.”

  Thomas glanced back at her, concern in his eyes as the crewmen shoved him out the door.

  “The storage room?” she asked.

  “Our prisoners won’t appreciate his bruises and cuts. Why risk an uprisin’?” He cocked his head to the side. “Besides, if you need more convincin’, it’s convenient to have him close.”

  All the better to beat him whenever Barnet desired. “If you want me to marry you, don’t hurt him.”

  A half smile softened his features, although his eyes remained cold and calculating. “If that’s what you wish.”

  “It is.” She held out her hand once more. “May I have the cross now?”

  He walked to the chest and found a large leather pouch from within, then slid the antiquity inside. He tied the pouch to his belt and gave it a pat. “I’ll keep the Ruby Cross safe.” Lifting a hand to her cheek, he sighed, his gaze caressing her face. “Don’t worry. Given time, I’m sure your feelin’s for me will grow.”

  Highly doubtful. How could she possibly develop feelings for someone who would force her into marriage? She resisted the urge to shove his hand away. He could keep his delusions. At least for the time being. Thomas was safe, and her family would soon be freed. Nothing else mattered today. Still, her stomach churned at the thought of marrying again—especially to Wolfrie Barnet.

  Chapter Seven

  Thomas stood in the small storage room, his wrists shackled, the chain between them attached to a hook high in the wall. Fettered again. As he had been for most of this trip, only now his nose ached to high hell, much like it had when his brother had broken it all those years ago.

  Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the crates stacked all around him, supplies stolen from his own ship. Bloody pirates. And yet the theft mattered less at this moment than it once had. All he could think of was Catherine with Barnet, a man clearly besotted with her, but in a way one would call unsound. He’d seen Barnet’s like before. Where once the man’s feelings might have been pure, they’d since decayed into something darker, an obsession capable of destroying Catherine if given the chance. But what could he do? And why did he care? While she had protected him from Barnet’s fury, she’d also been the one to sink his ship and steal his cross…all to save her son and mother. Damn.

  The door opened quietly, and Catherine slipped inside the room. Her gaze swept over the crates then landed on him, and his traitorous heart hammered a welcoming beat.

  She stepped closer, studying his bare chest and higher to his battered nose and cheek. She settled a gentle hand on his face, her fingers grazing a tender spot. “Has Barnet kept true to his word?”

  Thomas shrugged, the chain between his wrists rattling with the movement.
“As you can see, I have no more injuries than when last you saw me.”

  She nodded, relief flashing over her features before the disquiet settled back in.

  With a long exhale, he nuzzled his cheek against her palm. “Don’t marry him. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  “I don’t have much choice in the matter.” Frowning, she pulled her hand away. “Not if you want to live.”

  She would marry a lunatic for him? He swore beneath his breath. “Why do you feel so strongly about protecting me? I’m no one to you.”

  Her frown deepened, and a flash of pain glittered in her eyes, almost as if his words had hurt her in some way. Did she have feelings for him? “You’re not the only one I’m protecting,” she insisted a little too sharply. “Barnet has the Ruby Cross, and no matter what he says, I’m not convinced he’ll give it to me unless I marry him. And that cross is the sole means to rescue my family.”

  Probably true, although she hadn’t answered his question—why had she made his safety part of her bargain with Barnet at all? Apparently, she didn’t want to say, which was telling in itself. “If you need the cross so badly, then take it from him.”

  “If only it were that easy.”

  “I can help you.” He would like nothing better than to see the look on Barnet’s face when he lost the upper hand.

  Her eyebrow quirked. “The two of us against a ship of pirates?”

  Hardly. “If we can free my men—”

  “We’d still be outmanned. And we have few weapons.”

  But they could even the odds if they used their wits. “If we executed our revolt when most of the men are sleeping or when we’re docking, we could use their inattention to our advantage.” His pulse leaped at the idea. Could he convince her?

  She shook her head. “Why would I agree to such a reckless plan when Barnet will willingly help me release my son and mother? If I anger him, he might keep the cross for himself.”

  “I see,” he bit out, annoyed by her stubbornness. “You’d rather have your son grow up with Barnet as his stepfather?”

  Her gaze hardened. “At least Jonas would be alive.”

  “Alive, but would he be safe? Barnet is a violent man. He hurt you when you tried to stop him from attacking me.”

  “He didn’t mean to.”

  Yes, yet it had still happened. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, his affection mixed with madness. He can’t be trusted. He acts on impulse, using no restraint.” No telling what Barnet would do to feed his obsession. In fact… “Barnet sailed with your husband, did he not?”

  “Aye. He was his quartermaster the entire time my husband sailed.”

  “And how did your husband die?”

  Catherine’s eyes widened, no doubt suspecting what he might say next. “Don’t,” she cautioned. After all, it might be harder to marry the man once the truth was known.

  He wouldn’t be silenced. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Barnet killed your husband so he could have you for himself.”

  She inhaled a sharp breath. “Nonsense.” Her attention dropped to the floor as if searching for a way to deny the possibility that his suspicions might be true. “No. You’re only saying these things to help yourself, to gain your freedom.” She nodded. “Given the nature of your family, I suspect the sole reason you want to help me is to save your pride.” Her accusing stare rose to spear him through. “You hate wondering what your family will think when they have to pay a ransom because you were captured by pirates. You, a fancy ship captain.”

  His hands clenched, her words grating, and yet he couldn’t lie. The thought had crossed his mind, but he had other, more pressing reasons for wanting to help her. Although at the moment, with her allegation heavy in the air, he couldn’t think of one.

  She stepped away, back toward the door. “I should go,” she snapped. “Barnet would be furious if he knew I was here.”

  “Yes, and you wouldn’t want to make him furious, or he might do something he’ll regret.”

  Her expression flickered with unease. As it should, since she’d rather rely on a madman than place her trust in him.

  …

  The sun rose steadily over the horizon. Catherine peered at the sight through the wall of windows at the back of her cabin. The captain’s cabin. Not that she was much of a captain. Barnet gave far too many orders here.

  All night long she’d tossed and turned, thinking about what Thomas had said. Had Barnet been the cause of her husband Peter’s death? It couldn’t be true. The three of them had been friends since childhood. Inseparable.

  She crossed her arms, hugging her middle. Then why did the idea make her stomach feel sickly? What kind of man would she be introducing to her son? Her sweet seven-year-old boy. The memory of Barnet when he’d attacked Thomas last eve sent an icy ripple of dread down her spine. Barnet’s actions had been brutal, much like he’d described one of his own father’s episodes. His father had been a violent man named Wolfrie who took out his anger on his wife and children…until his son rose up against him, killing him to save their family further abuse. And soon Barnet would be Jonas’s stepfather. Good Lord, no. She had to protect her son.

  Perhaps… Jonas didn’t belong with pirates. Sailing with them would be too dangerous. And what of her mother? Catherine couldn’t leave her to fend for herself. Her mother wasn’t well. Which meant, she and Barnet would be separated, just as she had been with Peter. He would sail, and she would stay behind with Jonas and her mother. Her life would be the same as it had been these last years. Catherine cringed at the thought. Lonely again and barely surviving. Rubbing a hand over her forehead, she released her breath. She wanted so much more for her son. She rose to her feet and strode toward the door, desperate for fresh air and a wide deck to pace.

  On the deck, crewmen were already hard at work, including Barnet. He stood talking with a sailor not far off. She headed in his direction, although she knew not what she would say. Barnet’s gaze darted to her, and he dismissed the man. “Good mornin’.”

  With a nod, she forced a pleasant smile to her lips. “When will we reach port?”

  Barnet tilted his head toward the sky. “If this weather holds, we’ll dock in London late tonight.”

  So soon. She shivered as an image formed in her mind—a minister before her and Barnet at her side. Forcing the vision away, she cursed herself. She should be relieved. Ere long, she’d have Jonas back, alive and well. “Good. As soon as we arrive, I’ll contact Simon Brewer to make the trade—the cross for my son and mother.”

  His eyes warm, Barnet took her hand in his. “Aye, and I’ll find a vicar to marry us posthaste.” His mouth twitched into a grin, the scar over his lip stretching tight—a scar caused by his father and a belt.

  Her pulse took flight, and she pulled her hand away. “The marriage can wait until I have my son.”

  The warmth in his eyes cooled. “No, we’ll be married before.”

  What? “Why? There’s no need to rush.”

  “No need to rush?” he said with a harsh laugh. “We’re pirates. We can’t stay in port long or we’ll be found out, and I, for one, would rather not hang on Execution Dock.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Listen well. My men will take the prisoners to a partner of ours who will arrange for their ransoms, while you and I wed, then retrieve Jonas and Patience. After which, we’ll return to the safety of the sea.”

  But Jonas. “My son doesn’t belong with pirates.”

  “We can leave him behind with your mother.”

  “No.” She jerked away from his touch, and pain radiated through her shoulder from the injury she’d sustained last eve by Barnet’s own hand. “Jonas stays with me. My mother is frail. They both need me, on land.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Truly?” A small sense of relief relaxed some of the tension she’d held.

  Barnet nodded. “I’ll give up the pirate life and send my men on without me.”

  Give
up the… No. The hairs at the nape of her neck rose one by one. “Who will captain the ship?”

  “The crew will elect a new cap’n.”

  “But…but you’ve spent six years leading these men…”

  His stare dropped to the planks. “In truth, I would have quit long ago if it hadn’t been for Peter.”

  “Peter?”

  “We argued about it frequently.” He swallowed hard and spared her a glance. “When we started this venture, we thought we’d get rich. At the time, we had no idea what being a pirate was all about, the skill, the cunnin’, the ruthlessness required.”

  “Peter believed you’d eventually succeed, and maybe you will yet.” Please, don’t quit.

  “He didn’t care if we succeeded or not,” Barnet snapped. “Peter never wanted to go back to St. Giles. To him, no matter what happened, this ship was better than the squalor we’d left behind.”

  An old wound she’d kept long buried split open. She’d always suspected cowardice as the reason Peter never returned to her and their son. Fear of forever living and then dying in a place smelling of piss and stale gin. She felt that fear, too, every day, but she’d never abandon Jonas. Never.

  Barnet stepped closer, his voice a scant whisper. “Why did you choose Peter over me?”

  The three of them had known one another for as long as she could remember. They’d lived in the same neighborhood, a place better than St. Giles, although not by much. Once the boys had started working in her father’s butcher shop, she and Peter had grown closer.

  Peter had been fearless and adventurous, always getting them into trouble, and out of it, too. In contrast, Barnet, so meek and quiet, hadn’t compared.

  Peter had made her feel alive in a world of work-worn faces pinched with exhaustion. He’d excelled at keeping her mind off her worries. Little had they known that once they married, their lives would become bleaker. After several folks had blamed her father’s meat for a widespread illness, his shop had closed and their income had dwindled until moving to St. Giles had been their only option. Peter’s grand scheme had come to light soon after.