The Ransom: Legacy of the King's Pirates

by Marylu Tyndall

  A champion. Juliana pursed her lips. She knew of only one man who would risk his life for her. “Did this rescuer have black hair and wear leather attire, milord?”

  “How now? How did you know?”

  “A guess,” she mumbled. “And he said nothing?”

  “Nary a word. Just dispatched the villains and left.”

  The Pirate Earl. It had to be. She’d not seen him in almost a month. Not since she’d told him to leave her be. And he’d done just that. Though not in her thoughts. Much to her shame, she’d been unable to banish him from those.

  Munthrope began fluttering the handkerchief around his face. “A most frightening experience. I thought ’twas the end of ol’ Munny.”

  “You were very brave, milord, to stand up for me.” And she meant it. She’d not expected such courage from the man.

  Leaves fluttered up ahead and more footsteps sounded.

  “Let us be away.” Juliana tensed. “I fear there are villains afoot this night.”

  “Indeed, I shall take you home.” He bent to retrieve his cane, then placed her hand on his extended arm. “If I am so overcome, you must be all atwitter with nerves, sweetums.”

  “In truth, I am a bit shaken.” And she would rather return home, but her absence from the ball would only cause curiosity among those with naught more to do than ponder the lives of others. “However, let us make an appearance, milord. Since we are almost there and our absence would be of note. If you are able?”

  She sensed him smiling, but could not make out his face in the darkness. “Pray, milady, I am more than able.”

  After greeting the host and hostess, Lord Munthrope entertained several guests who begged for one of his humorous tales, looking and behaving no worse for his frightening ordeal. Juliana, on the other hand, had difficulty calming her heart, both from the fear at what the villains had wanted with her and from the gallant rescue by the Pirate Earl. She could make no sense of either, and instead, drifted listlessly through the crowd, sampling the treats, and avoiding her friends.

  Now, as she watched His Lordship draw out the climax of a particularly fanciful story, his body a blur of flailing satin and gold trim, she wondered at her strange attraction to him. Perchance ’twas naught but the pressures of her life befuddling her heart and mind, for what woman in possession of all her wits would be drawn to such a silly man for anything save entertainment or—with the prospect of marriage—security.

  Security. When was the last time Juliana had felt secure about anything? Especially her future? Save for that one moment in her mother’s garden when Munthrope had held her.

  He finished his tale, grabbed two drinks from a passing tray, and headed toward her, when two other ladies intercepted him and led him away. Shrugging, he cast a smile at Juliana over his shoulder.

  Something in the way he glanced at her just then, a slight tilt to his lips, a mischievous authority in his eyes, reminded her of the Pirate Earl. Not that she needed reminding. Fie, did the rakish man follow her all about town? What kind of pirate was he? But the more disturbing question was why the idea thrilled her so.

  Releasing a ragged sigh, she studied the life-size marble statue of an angel, complete with wings and peaceful smile, and realized she was probably doomed to hell for such wayward desires.

  So absorbed in her thoughts, Juliana didn’t see Captain Nichols until his shadow crossed her face and the scent of his bergamot cologne smothered her.

  He smiled—that sickly sweet maniacal grin of his that always soured her stomach. He followed her gaze to Munthrope and gave an indignant huff. “You can’t seriously be fond of that princock.”

  Juliana frowned and took another sip of her wine punch. “He is a kind man.” And twice the man you’ll ever be, she wanted to say, but that would be cruel.

  “Kind, you say?” For some reason this sent the captain into a bout of laughter that took several moments to contain. She should have taken the opportunity to slip away, but curiosity at the man’s hysterics kept her in place, waiting with a tap of her foot for him to finish.

  Finally he drew a deep breath and begged her forgiveness, then leaned toward her and said something that froze every ounce of blood in her body.

  “Lord Munthrope is the Pirate Earl.”

  Before the words had a chance to settle on her reason, she gave such a hearty laugh, several people turned to stare. “I had my suspicions as to the state of your mind, Captain. Thank you for confirming them.”

  His lips tightened. “The evidence is overwhelming.”

  “Pray, what evidence?” You jealous whiffet.

  “Why, just tonight before you arrived, did he not overcome three armed men?”

  Her heart canted in her chest. “How do you know that?”

  “Because, my dear, I staged the altercation to prove to you who His Lordship truly is.”

  Raising a hand, she slapped him across the cheek. Her glove unfortunately softened the effect. “How dare you? You sent those bullies? Have you any idea how frightened I was?”

  “My apologies, Miss Juliana, but it couldn’t be helped.” He rubbed his cheek. “I assure you, you were safe the entire time. Should my suspicions have been in error, my men would have brought you to me and done Munthrope no harm.”

  Juliana could hardly contain her anger. “You are quite wrong, sir. ’Twas not Munthrope who fought off your men, but the”—she gathered her breath—“another man who happened by.”

  He laughed. “Is that what he told you? I was hiding but a few yards from where he stood, and I can assure you ’twas Munthrope who overcame the men. And quite expertly, I might add. Much like a man experienced at fighting.” He gave a grin of victory, then leaned toward her. “You do realize ’twas him who shot out the lamp so you couldn’t see.”

  She backed away, her breath fleeing her once again. “You’re mad! If I couldn’t see, then how could you?”

  “A different angle, my dear. One in which the lights from the house were behind him.” He leaned back and puffed out his chest. “Oh, I assure you. There was no other man present.”

  His words stormed through her, stirring up her rage and refusing to attach to reason. She felt her face redden with heat at the man’s audacity, cruelty, and lies. “Are there no lengths to which you will not go to make me yours, Captain?” She spun to leave.

  He caught her arm, his eyes flashing. “Nay. There are not. I did this for you! To save you from the villain. Can you not see that?”

  “They are nothing alike!” she spat. “Their appearance, their gait, their gestures couldn’t be farther apart! Their voices are completely different. And besides, Munthrope is taller by at least a foot.”

  A satisfied smirk took residence on his thin lips. “Have you considered the man’s heeled shoes and tall periwig?”

  Nay, she hadn’t. She jerked from his grasp. “Why would the Pirate Earl pretend to be Lord Munthrope? He would have no need for the charade. He has plenty of wealth and could have any woman he wants.”

  “Shall we test my theory, miss?”

  “You may test whatever you wish. I want no part of it.”

  Ignoring her, he continued, “I intend to inform His Lordship that I issued orders for the Navy to search the Pirate Earl’s ship within the hour. If he is not the notorious pirate, he won’t give a care. If he is, I imagine he’ll make some excuse to leave immediately. If I am wrong, we will know right away, and I will grovel for your forgiveness.”

  “And while you are groveling, you will promise to never speak to me again.”

  He winced at this but nodded his assent. “Observe, my dear.” With chin high, Captain Nichols strolled to where Munthrope enthralled the elderly ladies with some lavish rendition of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew.

  Juliana sipped her drink. The punch soured in her stomach, and she set the glass aside. Ridiculous, ludicrous notion! Nichols’s lust for revenge had turned his brains to mush. She stared at Munthrope, arms waving and gestures exaggerated as he a
cted out the play. The Pirate Earl, indeed.

  Yet as she continued to stare, vague memories rose, dulling the chatter and music around her: the surprising feel of Munthrope’s muscular legs and arms when she’d inadvertently touched him, the brief moments when his voice dipped in baritone, the way he fought off that thief on the beach, the horse patch he always wore in the exact same spot the Pirate Earl bore a scar. Visions flashed of both men rubbing the edges of their mouths with thumb and forefinger when deep in thought, both calling her milady, both smelling like rose and cinnamon. And the sword wounds! Fie, the sword wounds on Munthrope’s right arm. The Pirate Earl also had a wound on that very same spot.

  Nay, nay, nay!

  She rubbed her temples. Just coincidences. Her breath heaved in her throat. She gripped her neck. She was being silly. She was not engaged to the Pirate Earl! Nor would kind, honorable Munthrope lie to her, deceive her in such a horrendous way.

  Make a fool out of her.

  She pressed down her satin mantua, drew a deep breath, and watched as Nichols leaned toward His Lordship, whispering in his ear. Ridiculous. Munthrope would brush the man away with an expression of bewilderment, and then she would be ashamed of even entertaining the preposterous notion.

  A cloud of brandy enveloped her, and she knew before she turned that her brother had approached.

  “Juliana, I need to speak with you.”

  When did her brother ever call her by her Christian name? “Not now, Rowan, I’m busy.” She waved him off, keeping her eyes on Munthrope.

  There it was. The look of confusion on Munthrope’s pasty white face, followed by his exclamation, “Begad, man, what has that got to do with me?”

  Then why did Nichols offer her a wink as he strode away, his eyes grazing over Rowan in contempt before he left the room.

  “Juliana, I fear thisssss cannot wait.” Rowan insisted, his words slurring.

  “What is it Rowan? That you’re going to spend the evening with Lady Crastmur because her husband is at court? When have you ever needed my permission for your sordid affairs?”

  “’Tis not that.” His words lacked the usual sarcasm.

  She faced him, concerned.

  He swayed and blinked at her as if trying to focus. “I lost the Midnight Fortune.”

  The words jumbled in her mind. “Lost? She’s still anchored in Kingston Harbor. You mean at sea?” No doubt the alcohol had addled his reason.

  “Not at sea.” He stared at the ground. “In a game of Faro.”

  Juliana blinked, shock forbidding his words to enter her mind. Laughter drew her gaze back to Munthrope, who excused himself from the women and hurried toward her, waving and smiling at guests as he passed. He greeted Rowan then took her hand.

  “Sweetums, I regret that I am called away on sudden business. I’ll arrange for my footman to escort you home.”

  Chapter 28

  Alex hurried down the dark street, wiping his face with a damp cloth as he went. There hadn’t been time to change his attire, nor to wash the infernal white chalk from his skin. A pox on Captain Nichols! The man’s suspicions would prove the end of the Pirate Earl. And Lord Munthrope with him. How a dimwit like Nichols could have put the pieces together of Alex’s double life, he had no idea. Yet ’twas obvious the man wasn’t fully convinced. Hence, this trap he laid.

  Turning a corner, Alex stormed down Thames Street. Hopefully the servant he’d sent ahead had already reached Jonas, and his quartermaster was henceforth gathering Alex’s crew from the various punch houses and brothels. Not that Alex planned to set sail, but just in case.

  Another curse blasted from his lips. This time directed at Larkin. Had the sailing master done as Alex ordered and tossed the Spanish tapestry overboard? Alex had been so caught up in saving Juliana’s ship and dealing with Nichols and a mutinous crew, he hadn’t made sure. And he had no confidence that Larkin’s greed had permitted him to obey. If Captain Nincompoop found the unique piece, he would have all the evidence he needed to drag Alex to the Jamaican council to be tried for piracy.

  Ignoring the insults of “merry andrew” and “limp wrist” tossed his way, he charged onward, wishing he was still a praying man but knowing that if he was, it wouldn’t be proper to plead with the Almighty that he not pay for his crimes. Yet, he could not deny that for the first time in four years, he wished he had committed no crimes at all. Wished he was an honorable man. For her. For the woman who stirred him in every way possible. If only he could be the man she needed him to be.

  Two men leapt out at him from the shadows, one wielding a knife, the other a pistol, both reeking of rum and refuse.

  “Look what we’ve got ’ere. A real gentleman, says I.”

  “Aye,” the other man slurred, cocking his pistol. “Lost are ye, milord?” They both laughed.

  “How’s about ye ’and over yer money pouch.”

  Alex sighed and stood his ground. “And why would I do that?”

  “Consider it yer payment fer encoachin’ on our territory.”

  “Aye,” the other added. “Consider us trolls guardin’ the docks.”The first man thrust the knife toward Alex and gestured for him to hand over his money.

  Alex studied his assailants, their positions, their stances, the lack of intelligence in their limpid eyes. He had no time for this.

  “I’ll pay your toll, gentlemen,” he said, and before they could blink, Alex caught the man’s arm betwixt his forearms and twisted it until something cracked. The man yelled out in pain. As the knife clinked to the ground, Alex booted the other man in the groin and snagged the pistol from his grasp. Then turning, he rushed away, shouting, “Beware the price for encroaching on my territory.”

  Within minutes, he charged down the wharf and leapt aboard his ship, only to meet the barrels of at least a dozen pistols. “’Tis me, your captain,” he announced, tearing off his periwig and tossing it to the deck. His crew stood frozen in place, eyeing him as if he were a ghost.

  “Is Larkin aboard?”

  One by one they lowered their weapons. “Nay, Captain.” Riggs, the boson, approached. “I ain’t seen ’im since last night. Why are ye dressed like a—”

  “What of Jonas? Has he returned?”

  “Nay. He gathered five men and took off like a nun in a brothel jist afore ye got here.”

  “Ready to set sail, Riggs.” Alex faced one of his topmen. “Conlin, take a dozen men and search this brig from truck to keelson. Start with Larkin’s quarters. I seek a rare Spanish tapestry. Bring it to me immediately.”

  “Aye, aye, Cap’n.” Conlin seemed to be withholding a chuckle at Alex’s attire but finally sped off.

  Alex walked to the starboard bulwarks and gazed toward Thames Street, where lanterns winked at him maliciously and sordid laughter rode upon curses and ribald tunes. “Come on, Jonas.” He squeezed the railing tight. Shorthanded or not, as soon as the brig was ready to sail, Alex would have to leave. Unless they found the tapestry first. Otherwise, he couldn’t take the chance. Mayhap Nichols had discovered Alex’s ruse as Lord Munthrope, but there was no crime in that. Though what the discovery would do to Juliana, he could not consider, so heavy did the loss of her weigh on his heart.

  However, ’twas his throat and the throats of his crew that concerned him at the moment. Though Nichols had ordered spontaneous searches of suspected pirate ships before, he’d not done so in quite some time, and Alex had grown lax. His gaze sped to Execution Dock, where the gibbet swayed in the wind, some unlucky pirate’s rotted flesh and bones hanging upon it. He’d not feared death before. Welcomed it, in fact, as an escape from the emptiness. But that was before Juliana Dutton.

  Now, he’d give anything to live and prove himself a man worthy of her.

  ♥♥♥

  Drawing the hood of her cloak tightly about her head, Juliana tore down the street after Munthrope. Her heart crashed against her ribs as the moist night air saturated her face with a mist that chilled her to the bone. Or mayhap ’twas the way His Lo
rdship now sped toward the docks, alone and without conveyance, that chilled her so. Why else would he do such a thing unless the words spoken by Nichols were true? She could not believe it! Even when her memories betrayed her unbelief. Even when everything within her shouted the truth of it. But she had to see for herself. Had to demand an explanation for why yet another man had betrayed her, played her for a fool, used her for some selfish purpose.

  Just like Rowan. Had he truly lost the Midnight Fortune in a bet? Was he really that foolish and self-serving? She could hardly think of that now. Or the loss of revenue it would mean for the business. A third of the profits at least. Lord, why are you allowing all these horrible things to happen to me? I’ve tried to be so good. What does it take to please you?

  Giving no thought to her safety, she sped onward, tripped over a loose brick, and nearly tumbled to the ground. She redeemed her dignity and caught a glimpse of Munthrope’s white periwig up ahead as he rounded a corner. Deceiving cullion!

  Darting forward, she turned the same corner to see him held at knife point by two ruffians. Nay, not held, it appeared—not by his cavalier, confident stance. More like annoyed, as one would be with two gnats. Halting, she slipped into the shadows beside a cooper’s store. She couldn’t hear the villain’s words, but ’twas obvious their threat. And for a moment—a brief moment—she feared for Lord Munthrope’s safety. But before that moment had even passed, the man who should be naught but flaccid and soft due to his pampered station in life, dispatched both thieves with more speed and skill than she thought possible.

  With the speed and skill of a pirate.

  Then, wiping his hands of them, he dashed off into the night.

  Horrified, Juliana stumbled backward and fell against the store front, trying to catch her breath, trying to settle her heart and her mind. But instead, they only spun faster. She had no time for shock or even anger. She must finish this. She must confirm what her eyes had already told her was true.

  Skirting the men still writhing in pain on the ground, she continued after Munthrope, keeping to the shadows. A band of knaves approached, drinks in hand, and a ribald tune on their lips, but as soon as the street-light crossed her face, they tipped their hats and went on their way. She was the Pirate Earl’s lady and not to be touched. Why did that thought flood her with warmth when it should make her sick to her stomach? Mayhap that was the reason God was so displeased with her? For enjoying the attentions of such a sinful man.