by Paula Quinn
“What is in the note?” Moreno asked boldly. He didn’t want to be passing missives from spies against France or Portugal.
“You don’t need to know what’s in the note,” the trader growled. “I paid you handsomely to deliver it. If you can’t do it, I will take back my coin and find someone else. If the seal is broken upon delivery—” His lips rose into a snarl that changed his entire countenance and made him look deadly in an instant. “Well then, the recipient of the note will have no choice but to take the matter into his own hands.”
Senhor Moreno almost handed the missive back to him. He didn’t want to get involved in things or with people who threatened his life, but he needed the coin. His dear Lucinda was about to deliver his third child. What did he care what was written in the note? This was a quick way for him to make extra coin.
“No need to make threats, sailor,” he said. “Your note will be delivered untouched and unread. I have enough troubles of my own to worry about more.”
The man smiled, thanked him, and left.
Senhor Moreno watched him slink off, looking around covertly, as if he didn’t want to be seen by others just yet. He was likely a spy but Senhor Moreno turned away and patted the pouch inside his jacket pocket.
Like he’d told the trader, he had his own troubles to see to.
Chapter Nineteen
My family left the Netherlands eleven years ago and settled in the Colonies.”
Trina listened to Gustaaf tell his story while Poseidon’s Adventure sailed toward the North Equatorial Current. She still couldn’t believe that she was on her way to the West Indies… on her way to a true adventure. Part of her exalted. This was what her heart had hungered for for so long. Her life spread before her like an open book, one she wanted to write, not read. Let other lasses, like her cousin Abby, dream about their knights in shining armor. Trina followed a different path, one she would carve for herself. One that found her in the company of a man who stole her breath and made her forget why the hell she was here other than to spend her moments with him, getting to know him, hoping he’d kiss her again.
The moments when she saw Captain Kidd were brief for the first few days after they left Lisbon. He saw to much business about the goods they’d picked up and the ship and the sailing of it. He saw to divvying up the shares of what his crew plundered in Lisbon. Whether a city, a town, or a ship, whether they all participated, or only some, they shared what they stole. After she and Kyle signed the ship’s Articles, they both got one share of the booty. Or rather, they would be getting it after supper.
“We lived peaceful lives,” Gustaaf told the small group of them sitting around the table in the captain’s cabin. “Until my sister was captured and taken by the pirate captain Charlie Roberts. My mother almost died from the heartbreak of it. I swore to my father I would bring my sister home. To see to my word, I stole our neighbor’s boat and set after the captain.”
“Ye went alone?” Kyle asked across the table.
“My family left the Netherlands alone. I had no one else to go with me.”
“Ye’re verra’ brave, Gustaaf,” Trina told him and reached over to pat him on his giant hand.
He shook his head. “I was foolish. I could not take on a horde of pirates by myself. Soon, they captured me too. Aleida and I were to be put to death when Captain Roberts spotted Poseidon’s Adventure on the horizon.”
He looked toward Alex and smiled. In return, his captain groaned. “Cease with this dull tale.”
“Nae.” Trina slapped the table softly. “Let him speak.” She wanted to hear what Alex had done that had earned him such loyalty. “Please,” she added with a smile.
“Very well then.” The captain swept his jeweled fingers across the air and sat back in his chair, trying to look uninterested in the rest of it. “Proceed, Gustaaf.”
Trina was the only one who caught Mr. Pierce’s quick glance toward Alex and watched while he gave in to her. Just before that, he was looking at her. It was three times now at the table that she felt his eyes on her.
“Our captain had visited my town often,” Gustaaf continued. “He knew my father. He knew my sister and me, and he came for us.”
Trina couldn’t stop the smile curling her mouth, nor could she stop herself from looking at the captain.
“Ye saved them both?” Kyle asked Alex.
“Aye,” Alex confessed. “’Tis nothin’ worthy of accolades.”
“Why not?” her cousin asked him. “Did ye receive coin fer it?”
“Nay. They were friends of mine.”
“’Twas noble then.” Kyle lifted his cup.
Trina was thankful that Kyle had come to grips with her liking the captain. He liked him too. Still, he’d insisted that she and the captain not engage in anything more than sharing words. Her virtue was in his care.
Alex finally returned her smile, thoroughly amused by Kyle and his whole idea of honor and integrity.
Alexander Kidd didn’t concern himself with such notions. Or, at least, he didn’t want anyone to know he did. How could he be known as a heartless pirate if words of his honorable deeds seeped out?
His secrets would be safe with her.
“In gratitude for saving my sister, I pledged him my service.”
“All right, enough of this.” Alex rose from his seat, snatched up his cup, and downed its contents. “Let’s get back to matters at hand. Miss Grant.” He handed over her share. “We have a lesson before the sun sets. Get yar cutlass and meet me on deck. Kyle, Gustaaf.” He gave them their spoils next. “Keep yar ears open fer talks of me lettin’ a woman remain aboard ship.” When they nodded and left, he turned to Mr. Pierce. “Send in the men fer their shares.”
When everyone had gone, Trina lingered about his door for a moment or two before he closed it.
“What does it mean that I’ve been at sea fer weeks now and I dinna’ yet hate being here?”
He laughed, setting her nerve endings aflame. “It means ya’re mad, and so am I fer bringin’ ya on me hunt fer a treasure.”
“I’m relieved that ye stopped believing that foolishness aboot me wanting to steal yer map.”
His smile remained while he took a step toward her and traced his thumb along her cheekbone. “I should have sailed ya directly back to Scotland instead of bringing ya farther south. But I like yar company, Caitrina. I’m provin’ me trust in ya by bringin’ ya with me. I hope it isn’t put to the test. But if I’m wrong, I’ll let ya cut out me heart.”
She gazed into his eyes, trying to see deeper into him, where the heart he spoke of lived. “Why would ye want me to do that?”
He smiled as if it didn’t matter and gently pushed her out when Robbie Owens appeared at the door for his share.
On her way to the deck she wondered what his words meant. Cut out his heart if he was wrong about her? Was it a clever way to gain her loyalty or was it something more?
They met on deck a short while later for sword practice, one of the many ways she kept busy aboard, day after day. She was also learning how to navigate, as well as how to climb the ratlines to the masts. She wanted to reach the crow’s nest at the top of the mast and look out, but so far, under Gustaaf’s tutorage, she’d made it only a few feet up without tangling herself and almost falling. Gustaaf always caught her and usually they laughed. She made him promise not to tell the captain what she was up to—since when she’d asked him if she could be his new lookout, he nearly had a fit.
She studied him now, barefoot and suntanned, his white, loose-fitting cotton shirt open at his collar, puffy at his cuffs while he readied his cutlass. His bandanna was wrapped neatly around his head, gold hoops dangling from his ears. He looked every part the devil-may-care rake, dangerous to the rich, the ill defended, and women.
Trina couldn’t deny that he was striking to behold but there was much more to him than good looks. “I enjoyed Gustaaf’s story,” she told him, gripping her blade. “It pleases me to know that ye are just as loyal to yer fr
iends as they are to ye.”
“Well, beauty, pleasin’ ya is what I live to do.” He crooked his mouth into a teasing grin and swung. “Remember,” he said while she blocked, “to always strike at major organs—heart, lungs, brain—anything to end the fight the quickest way ya can.” He feinted for her head then struck at her legs. She leaped back just in time to avoid getting cut.
Well then, she thought, smiling at him. He meant business.
“Slicin’ off an extremity will work too. Wait until yar opponent lifts his blade, then take off his arm.”
She nodded at his instruction. She already knew most of what he was teaching her, but fighting in the close quarters of a boat, unbalanced, against men who wanted to slice off her head, took more practice. She appreciated his aid. But she wasn’t completely helpless and since he meant business…
She feigned a blow to his torso and struck low. She moved quickly, thanks to the lighter weight of her sword. Alex barely had time or position to block.
Alex smiled when she tapped his leg with her blade. “Good, Caitrina. Very good.”
He fought hard against her but she forgave him because he didn’t want her to be hurt or killed. She was thankful that it was his ship that docked in Loch Scavaig. She couldn’t have chosen a better captain.
“And when ye can—”
She turned to her cousin, who had captured her eye a moment ago, and caught the axe he tossed her.
“—fight with two weapons.”
She swung hard, clashing the edge of her axe along Alex’s blade and hooking it so that he couldn’t move it when she sliced her cutlass at his torso.
He sprang back on his feet, barely missing her blade. With his cutlass still locked in her axe, he yanked her upward and over. To keep herself from falling, she had to drop the axe. After disarming her of her second weapon, he wasted no time in disarming her of her first.
Trina watched her cutlass fly into the air and then fall, hilt-first, into Alex’s hand. She stepped back when he moved forward, but he leaned over her and spoke softly against her ear.
“Me promise to ya pains me every time I want to take ya in my arms and kiss ya and I can’t because yar cousin will wish to fight me. But how much longer can I avoid ya?”
He stepped back before she could reply and handed her back her sword. “Tomorrow, we will practice fighting at closer proximity. Steal someone’s dagger to fight me with.” He winked at her, then bent to pick up Kyle’s axe. When he handed it to Kyle, Trina sighed, thankful that he didn’t strike her cousin with it. Would he grow tired of Kyle’s watchful eyes and finally do something about it? If he hurt Kyle—and after his last skillful maneuver to avoid harm, she had no doubt he could hurt anyone he pleased—but if he hurt Kyle, her kin would bring a war to him.
She had to speak to her cousin. She wasn’t angry with him for wanting to protect her. He’d protected her their whole lives. But the captain was no danger to her. Whatever happened between them, she wanted it to happen.
She didn’t get the chance to talk to Kyle. He tucked his axe away and hurried to catch up with Alex, calling out for him. She paled as she watched her cousin hurry away. What the hell was Kyle doing? She thought to follow them but was stopped by Mr. Pierce stepping in her path.
“There’s somethin’ I wish to speak to ya about, Miss Grant.”
Trina cursed under her breath and looked around his waist. Kyle and Alex were gone.
“’Twill take but a moment.”
Trina closed her eyes, then nodded. “What is it, Mr. Pierce?”
“I wanted a chance to speak to ye aboot something, Captain.”
Alex hoped it wasn’t about Caitrina. He wasn’t sure that he could keep his temper in check if the lad threatened him again.
“What is it, MacGregor?”
“D’ye trust Mr. Pierce?”
Alex stopped before they ascended the stairs to the quarterdeck and blinked at him. The Highlander’s query was so unexpected that for a moment Alex didn’t know what to say. Then he answered, “More than I trust anyone else.”
MacGregor smiled and nodded his head. “Of course. Ferget I brought it up.”
“Aye, I will.” Alex continued up to the poop deck.
“This might help,” the Highlander offered with sincerity, briefly straining his voice. “During our visit to Lisbon, I met the lovely Senhorita Rafaela Barros.”
“Aye, I noticed.”
“She told me of ye and her sister Madalena.”
Why the hell would Rafaela do that? It was so long ago. Why must his past be dredged up when it deserved to be forgotten?
“Whatever she told ya, ferget it, as I have,” he said. He relieved Cooper at the helm and untied his tricorn from his sash. He put his hat to his head and sailed his ship through the Sargasso Sea.
“What else, Kyle?” Alex asked after ten minutes passed and the lad hadn’t left. Alex didn’t want to know what else but if it would end this conversation about Madalena, he’d suffer through it. “Did ya discover who me real mother is while ye were at it?”
Unfazed by Alex’s sarcasm, the Highlander continued on. “Senhorita Barros told me ye broke her sister’s heart and drove her into the arms of a traveler so that their family never saw her again.”
“He was a merchant from Porto,” Alex corrected blandly, “and she left me after I gave her everything I had.”
Alex prayed for the strength not to toss Kyle overboard. Caitrina would hate him, and damn him to Fiddler’s Green, but he didn’t want her to hate him, or even dislike him. Twice since they left Lisbon, he’d gone to Harry Hanes believing himself sick with delirium. He’d let her stay, risking much, especially from her kin when they came for her, and he knew they would. But he couldn’t send her back not knowing if she was safe in the hands of another captain and crew.
“Ye speak the truth.”
Alex looked at him, hoping that doing so might help him to remember that Kyle was Caitrina’s kin. “I’m glad ya think so,” he said wryly.
“Don’t take offense where none was meant,” the lad offered boldly. He wasn’t afraid to keep going, despite Alex’s glare. “’Tis simply an observation, Captain. Now may I offer my regrets that she broke yer heart.”
Alex smiled. He wasn’t about to admit to a lad that he’d been foolish enough to allow his heart to be broken. “She didn’t break my heart.”
“And at the same time,” the Highlander continued as if Alex hadn’t spoken at all, “express my gladness that it wasn’t ye who did the breaking.”
Alex laughed and turned the wheel starboard. What was the use in trying to argue the point of whose heart took longer to heal? “’Twas the past, lad. I don’t live in the past.”
Kyle shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care about the past either. “My cousin is fond of ye,” he said instead, leading Alex to believe this was what Kyle wanted to speak of all along.
“She has no reason not to be,” Alex told him, almost relieved now that Kyle had brought it up. There were things that needed to be said between them. “Should I create a reason so that this journey is easier fer ya, even if it might be harder fer her?”
“Nae,” her cousin answered quickly. “I would just ask ye to give her time to make certain that whatever decisions she makes will be the right ones and not lead her into a life of regret.”
Alex tightened his jaw and nodded his head. How could he not give his word to such a request? He didn’t want her to regret her life. Besides that, he liked Kyle. There was something about the lad’s staunch belief in honor that Alex admired, though he sometimes scoffed at it.
“Thank ye, Captain.”
He groaned as he made another promise he hoped he could keep.
“MacGregor?” He stopped the Highlander from leaving. “Did ya take Senhorita Barros to yar bed?”
The lad shook his head.
“Why the hell not?”
He shook his head again, but gave no reply—at least not one he could correctly utter. “
I… We… I didna’ think…”
“Have ya ever taken any woman to yar bed?” Alex asked him. Hell, with all those exquisite lasses in Camlochlin and Kyle’s good looks, the lad couldn’t be a virgin.
“Most of the lasses in Camlochlin are my kin, and the ones who are not, I’ve known since birth, so they might as well be.”
Alex grimaced and set his gaze on the horizon. “Have ya never left home then?”
“I could have gone on raids and adventures with my cousins but I preferred to learn everything I could from the warriors who went before me.”
Neptune take him, the lad probably didn’t know what to do with a woman who wasn’t a sister, cousin, or a cradle mate. He had much to learn and there was no one better to teach him than the brown beauties of the Islands.
“MacGregor?”
“Aye, Captain?”
Alex smiled. “Ya’re goin’ to like the Islands.”
Chapter Twenty
Alex had been right. The days aboard the ship were getting more difficult. Trina’s growing misery, though, had little to do with boredom or spoiled food. She missed her kin and worried what would happen when they came for her. But it was the captain’s face, the glistening, golden slabs of muscle moving in his bare arms and even his belly when he practiced with her that kept her awake at night. He was crafted to fight, to move, to mesmerize. And mesmerized by him, she was. The skill with which he disarmed or potentially killed her every time they practiced impressed her. The way his arms felt coming around her, making her feel protected rather than captured, stilled her heart. The sound of his husky voice telling her he’d won again boiled her blood.
She wanted him to kiss her. She ached for it in places that made her blush and burn. She wanted to run her hands and her tongue all over his hard planes. Without truly understanding it, she wanted to lie beneath him, touching him, kissing him, while he slipped himself deep into her.
She feared she was growing overly attached to him. It had been difficult not to ever since the day he asked her to stay with him. She’d been happy that Captain Delgado was such a lech that she was able to stay with Alex, but she knew she couldn’t remain with him forever. What would happen when he left her? She tried to think of it as little as possible.