Pirates of Britannia Boxed Set Volume One: A Collection of Pirate Romance Tales

by Barbara Devlin

  THOMAS’S STOMACH COULD not stop churning. Never in his life had he felt so disgusted with himself. He knew he had a sister named Katherine who had been born about a year after he left Ireland, but Katherine was a common enough name. He had been attracted to her from the moment he saw her. His body reacted to her so profoundly and he had been so hard… he clutched his stomach again and grimaced. She had desired him, as well. Her reaction was clear enough. A fine way to meet his wee sister.

  He had been so pleased to return to Ireland and in one day he had lost his ship, been abandoned by his own men, forced to carry cargo into a cavern, and now he had ravished his own bloody sister. Bile rose in his throat. How could he ever look her in her cursed blue eyes again? Blonde hair was rare in these parts. His mother had red hair and he believed his stepfather had dark hair. Never would he have suspected this lass to be his kin, much less his sibling.

  Grinding his teeth in anger at himself, he stared at his grandmother who looked between him and Katherine with a frustrating look of smugness on her face. Waiting for her to speak, to say anything at all, he fisted his hands at his side, digging his nails into his palms. He told his grandmother that he found his wee sister in a cave alone at night, but he made certain to leave out the kiss… the kiss that had torn him to shreds with its intensity, and then torn him to shreds with the truth. He wanted to vomit once more but had already done so twice outside. To be attracted to one’s sister was a sin against nature… to desire her… what the bloody hell was wrong with him? And hell and bollocks if he still did not find her most beautiful.

  Finally, Grace opened her mouth, but when she did, it was to laugh uproariously, slapping her leg and stomping her feet and she wiped a tear away from her eye. “Ye are attracted to her, aren’t ye? Ye would not be so bloody furious if ye were not.”

  “She is my cursed sister! I am not… attracted to her!” His gaze shifted away from his grandmother’s before she saw the traitorous truth in his eyes. He knew he always bordered on being considered lecherous where women were concerned. He honored them and would never force them, but he was well known for taking what he wanted and making damned certain the lass was pleased in the end. But this? He was worse than he thought. His lips pulled down into a deep frown.

  “She is nay yer sister, Tomás. I dinnae know who she be, but she be not yer sister. Yer wee sister resides on Burke land with yer mama and Richard. She is a fiery red-head, just like yer mama… and me. And, yer sister’s surname is Burke, not O’Malley.”

  His stomach twisted and turned as all the knots released at once, and he breathed deeply for the first time. He had been in absolute turmoil and angst. “I hesitated to tell ye… I thought to play with yer mind a bit, but I can see ye are all in knots over it and Pirate Queen though I be, I dinnae like to see me family suffer.” Swallowing hard, he said a prayer of thanks, before both their gazes narrowed in on the lying wee bitch who had turned his life upside down with her tale.

  “Next question is, who are ye, how do ye know so much about me family, and why are ye telling lies?” Grace hissed at the lass and stepped closer. She placed her hand on the handle of the rapier always strapped to a belt around her waist and bared her teeth. “Tell me now lass, before I cut out yer tongue.”

  For the first time since arriving, Katherine… or whoever she was, gasped, clutched her hand to her chest, and widened her eyes. He wanted to pity her, but he could not for all she put him through. And damned if his body did not respond once more to her small curves and bonny pink lips. Now that they were inside with more lighting and he could look at her knowing she was not his kin, he was more than pleased with her appearance. Silky blonde hair that shimmered in the light of the several candles surrounding her made him want to run his fingers through it.

  He shook his head and snapped out of it. She was nothing but trouble. “If ye were not a lass, I would gut ye right now,” he snarled, trying to force himself to stay angry with her, yet his relief was a far stronger emotion.

  “I… I…” she stumbled on her words, clearly unsure of what to say for herself.

  “Ye what, love? Who are ye?” Grace asked menacingly. “Why were ye up in that cave?”

  “My name truly is Katherine and I vow my father is named Richard and my mother is… or was Margaret. I did not know that his parents shared the same name as mine, or that he had a sister who shared my name when I made up the name O’Malley.” She paused and breathed deeply, as if ready to faint any moment. “I… I was in the cave because I am a disobedient daughter who can never listen to my papa.” She lowered her head and her lip quivered with fear. “I should have listened to him.”

  “Why did ye take the O’Malley name?” Grace barked. “’Tis a deadly mistake to claim to be related to the Pirate Queen.”

  “I am sorry… I was alone, and he had me… up against a tree. I was frightened. I thought he would not dare hurt me if he thought I was yer kin…”

  Grace’s eyes flickered to him and Thomas knew she understood why he had been so upset to learn she was his sister. Something inside him felt for the lass. He could not understand why a wee lass would be unattended in a cave and he would require further answers, but for now, a sudden need to protect her from his grandmother took hold.

  “Do ye not know that in this land, lass, to be an O’Malley is to be an outlaw… a pirate? Hunted down and killed simply for existing? That horse’s arse Bingham would slit yer throat just to rid the earth of one more O’Malley. Ye never claim to be an O’Malley unless ye are ready to fight fer yer life, ye ken?”

  Katherine’s chest started heaving so hard that he was certain she was going to pass out if she did not breathe. Tears ran down her face and he longed to run over to her and comfort her, but she was a liar and God knew what else. He had to control his ridiculous weakness for her.

  “Who are ye, lass? Tell me yer surname…”

  Sealing her lips tightly, Katherine adamantly shook her head and flinched, clearly worried Grace would strike her.

  “Tell me!” Grace roared, and the lass jumped and squeaked with fear like a mouse trapped by a feral cat.

  “I cannae!” she wailed! “I willnae! I am Katherine! ’Tis all I can tell ye!” she shouted, turning red in the face and continuing to gasp for breath.

  His grandmother stepped forward and Thomas stepped between them. “Enough! She is frightened to death! She is clearly about to pass out! Leave the lass to me. I will get answers,” Thomas insisted. If Grace pushed Katherine any farther, she would get no answers at all, for the lass would be unconscious.

  Grace snarled at him. “Ye are weak!” she spat. “The queen ruined ye. Your need for knightly honor clouds your mind! She is a threat! I smell it all over her…”

  “My need for honor has nothing to do with this,” he lied. In truth, despite his brutish ways and fiery temper, his honor did run deep… deep enough to want to protect this lass, for now. If he found out she was a real threat, he would need to turn her over to his grandmother, but until then, he had a duty as a knight to protect this woman. “She is worthless to us if ye slit her throat and shouting at her is making her near senseless!” he roared.

  Looking back over at Katherine, he growled when he saw the lass swerve and begin to teeter precariously in her seat.

  He ran over to her and caught her just before she slipped sideways off the chair and onto Grace’s stone floor. With a wave of dismissal, his grandmother spat, “Take her out of here. Get a room at the inn. And get me some answers. Do not let her out of yer sight. She saw the cargo. If it were up to me, she would be dead already. I cannot be soft, Tomás! She knows more than she ought, and I want to know why.”

  There was no use arguing with his grandmother and he knew it. With a nod, he swooped Katherine’s limp body into his arms and walked toward the large wooden door of the castle. “I will not let her out of my sight,” he promised. He needed answers and despite his grandmother’s threats, she had a point. The lass knew too much.

  “One m
ore question,” Thomas said carefully. “Where is my Uncle Murrough?”

  “Why? Ye wish to kill him fer beating yer mother, aye?”

  “Aye.” He had dreamed of it many times and while on Irish soil, he would see it done.

  She shrugged, a look of sadness on her face. “I dinnae ken where he is, and that is the truth of it. After I went to England to beg his release from Bingham, he turned on us and started to work against us. I havenae seen him since. I hope he is dead. If he is not, I will have to kill him myself.”

  “Not if I get to him first,” Thomas snarled. He would gladly relieve the world of the man who abused his wee mother.

  Grace shrugged, as if the death of her own son was of no concern to her, but he knew otherwise. She loved her children fiercely. His betrayal must have destroyed her but he doubted she would actually kill her own son. He had no such qualms about killing his uncle.

  “Meet at the docks at dawn. We get yer ship back and then ye owe me a debt,” she said, changing the subject.

  Turning to look at his grandmother, he scoffed. “Even the grandson of Grace O’Malley must pay his debts.”

  “Aye, and I ken yer honor will hold ye to it,” she winked.

  How the devil had he ended up carrying this lass in his arms, preparing to battle the English for his ship, and owing debts to the Pirate Queen? He was not sure, and though he had a feeling he would never be allowed on English soil ever again, he looked down at the cursedly enticing, yet incredibly infuriating wee woman in his arms. He had a direct view down the top of her dress, but he trained his eyes forward, vowing to never take advantage of an unconscious lass.

  Cursed honor.

  Chapter Five

  “I AM SORRY, Sir! I was only trying to feed me bairns! They be starving, Governor! ’Tis just one wee chicken and ye have so many. I only thought to…”

  “To steal what did not belong to you!” Richard Bingham scowled down at the dirty, pleading Irishman. Why were they all filthy thieves who wished to steal what belonged to him? Years on this cursed island had worn down his patience with these pestilent people. He coveted the opportunities he got to board a ship and spend pleasant time with his wife and daughter Emily in the English countryside. He missed his wee Katherine and wished to see her more frequently, but while on Irish soil, he had… other responsibilities. Responsibilities that his innocent daughter would never understand.

  It was best for her to spend her days in their Connaught house, New Castle Manor, away from the dirty Irish devils and oblivious to his duties as Governor. One day he would bring her to England and introduce her to his wife and her sister, yet he had never been able to bring himself to tell her. He quite loved having her here with him, even if it was selfish. She was his jewel and the only thing that made life on this island tolerable. She was the last bit of innocence in his tainted world.

  “Please, Governor! All I wish is to feed me family!” the man pleaded on his knees in the dirt. Not that it mattered. He was so dirty, the dirt below him could not possibly make him any filthier, for that filth ran through his veins.

  “Silence! There are rules to the land and it is my most unfortunate responsibility to enforce them. You know the punishment for stealing.” He towered over the man as he removed his dagger from his belt. The man put out a hand in desperation and Richard scowled. If the vermin dirtied his silk hose, he would cut off more than just a finger.

  “Put your hand on this block.”

  “Nay! Please!” he cried, tears rolling down his dirty face, leaving muddy tracks. He was missing two teeth and Richard grimaced at the pathetic man. Really, he ought to just slice the fool’s throat and end his pathetic life. Unfortunately, he was already on shaky legs with his queen. That pirate bitch had sailed all the way to England to plead for the release of her son from Richard’s prison. Murrough O’Flaherty was just as bad as all the other pirates. After Richard had disposed of the fool’s younger brother, Owen, Murrough had turned against his own family and had chosen to side with the English. The queen ordered his release and questioned Richard’s methods. He was only trying to protect the queen’s land from its disgraceful inhabitants, though he understood the need for discretion. So, he made certain all his punishments were swift, yet fair. The only good O’Malley was a dead O’Malley, and Murrough would eventually need to be taken out once he was no longer of use.

  “Place your hand,” he said calmly. He had other matters to tend to this day.

  Reluctantly, the man put his aged hand on the stump and closed his eyes, awaiting his punishment. With a grin on his face, Richard bent over to slowly saw the man’s pointer finger off, feeling skin split and bones crack beneath the pressure. Blood spurted from the finger as the man writhed and screamed in pain. Once the duty was done, Richard looked at Murrough O’Flaherty and waved him toward the man. “Clean that up.”

  “Aye, Governor,” Murrough replied. Nay, Richard did not trust that man. He would turn on Richard just as quickly as he had turned on his own family, but Richard would worry about him later.

  As he was walking away, he heard his name being shouted in the distance. Turning around swiftly, his deep blue brocade jerkin swishing with the movement, he saw his usual messenger lad running toward him. “Governor Bingham! I have two missives for you!” The boy panted as he came to a skidding stop. “Both are marked urgent, Sir! One comes from New Castle Manor!”

  “What?” Richard grabbed the two separately folded pieces of parchment, first opening the one from his home with a shaky hand.

  Dear Governor,

  I am most worried about the safety of Miss Katherine, for she never arrived home last night. I awaited her arrival beside the door until well past midnight before sending this letter off. Shelly said she snuck out again, as she often does, but this time I fear something has befallen her. We are beside ourselves and have sent a search party for her. We urge you to arrive home with all haste.

  Your faithful servant,

  Christopher Walters

  Again? Again! She snuck out… again? Richard’s hand shook, and anger boiled in his blood. He would kill every member of his staff for allowing her to repeatedly slip out the door, never informing him of the matter. His daughter must be growing restless. It was time to get her to England. Heart in throat, he swallowed down his fear for his daughter. They were much too close to that cursed Clew Bay pirate stronghold, but he knew she would be safe if only she stayed indoors.

  Before he called for his horse, he remembered the second missive, now crinkled in his fist. Clearing his throat, he took a steadying breath. Perhaps it was a note from Katherine saying she was safe. No seal graced the front, which was a good sign.

  Quickly opening the letter, he scanned it several times before roaring his anger to the sky. It was a letter from Captain William, sent over to patrol the waters for Queen Elizabeth. He claimed they had been surrounded by four pirate ships, three belonging to O’Malley and one belonging to the Scottish Devils of the Deep. They called for a parley, at the demand of Thomas Esmonde… the Pirate Queen’s grandson no less, and he was gifted safe boarding onto his grandmother’s ship. William claims to have seen Grace embracing her grandson with affection just before two more ships came onto the horizon. Fearing for the safety of his crew and questioning Esmonde’s intentions, he commanded the galley’s crew to turn tail.

  In the letter, the captain implored him to understand that he acted in England’s best interest, as he knew Thomas Esmonde wished to obtain the ship and crew for himself. William had since boarded a faster ship heading for England to implore his Queen for aid and another ship but requested of Richard to watch over the galley and crew, who weighed anchor in Ulster. He vowed to return with re-enforcements.

  “Cursed coward!” Richard roared. None of this was good news. He always knew Thomas Esmonde was trouble and never understood his queen’s trust in the man. Pirate blood ran through his veins and he had just proved that, given the chance, he would become a traitor to the crown. Richard did no
t know how, but he was certain the attack had been a setup. How else had O’Malley been ready to take Thomas aboard after the man requested a parley? He had meant to commandeer the English ship with the help of his family. The queen must be informed, then he would need to rush home to seek out his daughter.

  “I need parchment, a quill, and ink!” he shouted at one of his nameless servants. The man bowed and skittered toward Bingham’s tent when a call came up that made the hackles on Bingham’s neck stand on end.

  “Ships, ahoy!” the man’s frantic voice shouted from the dock and Richard ran over to stand by the sailor. Looking through the spyglass, the man paled. “It’s the Sea Banshee, Governor! I thought she promised to leave our ports alone!”

  Richard scowled and grabbed the glass from the man. “That was before we had something she wants… her grandson’s ship,” he spat and cursed Captain William for anchoring the ship in his port, bringing pirates down on them. He would include this offense in his letter to the queen.

  Looking through the spyglass, he first saw the notorious red flames of hair, like the fires of hell, whipping in the wind as the Pirate Queen held her rapier in the air and shouted something to her crew. He could only see her mouth moving and not hear the words from such a distance. Cannons rolled into place, pointing at them through the gun port.

  “Ready the cannons!” he roared. If she wanted to bring the fight to him, he would show her that the English would defend their port to the death!

  Looking from the cannons to Grace again, he next locked eyes on Thomas Esmonde… he had not seen the man in several years, but even from this distance through the spyglass, he could see his menacing eyes and overpowering build. Richard Bingham’s heart plummeted to his feet.

  Beside the treasonous knight who seemingly had turned pirate, stood his daughter, Katherine, looking terrified with wide eyes and pale skin, her blonde hair whipping wildly in the wind… and that thieving whoreson had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.