The Ransom: Legacy of the King's Pirates

by Marylu Tyndall

  The lap of waves and toll of bells grew louder, overtaking the merriment from town. Juliana halted and scanned the line of wharfs jetting out onto dark, misty waters. Where had he gone?

  There. Moonlight flashed off his pink satin doublet as he stormed down one of the docks. Juliana clenched her jaw. What else would Lord Munthrope be doing down here unless he was indeed the Pirate Earl? Fury overtook her reason, and clutching her skirts she sprinted after him, not caring that she stormed toward a ship full of pirates.

  ♥♥♥

  Alex could hear the patter of feet behind him as his crew scampered across the deck and leapt into the shrouds to unfurl sails. He also heard cat-calls and whistles from the same men. Spinning around, he spotted a flash of burgundy satin and flaxen hair speeding down the wharf. The puff of silk and lace halted before his ship. His heart turned to stone.

  He started for the lady, saw in a shaft of moonlight the fury pinching her lovely features, heard her call out, “Munthrope, you swine!” before she backed up, grabbed her skirts, and sped up the plank betwixt dock and bulwarks. Leaping over the railing, she tumbled onto the main deck with a thump and a groan that brought every man within distance to her side. Most of them not with the intent to help the lady but to stake their claim on the gift they no doubt assumed the good Lord had dropped in their laps.

  “Back away!” Alex ordered, shoving them aside as he knelt beside her, his mind careening with thoughts and questions he hadn’t time to entertain. “Milady.” He extended his hand.

  She slapped it away. Palms planted on the deck, she lifted her gaze to his. Eyes like icicles speared his soul, instantly freezing it.

  “You!” She struggled to rise, refusing his help. “You!” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger.

  Laughter bounded through his crew. “Get back to work!” Alex shouted, causing even Juliana to jump. As the men skittered away, another sharp finger stabbed his chest.

  “You lied to me! You deceived me!” She picked up his periwig from the deck and thrust it in his face. “You’re the Pirate Earl. All along, you’ve been one and the same!”

  Fury melted her cold eyes into pools of pain and betrayal. A pain Alex felt deep within his soul. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from jabbing him again. “Aye, ’tis true. But not for the reasons you think.”

  “What other reasons could there be?” She struggled against his grip. “Let me go, Pirate!”

  His crew continued to laugh.

  Conlin popped up from below, a string of men on his tail. His eyes brushed over Juliana, first with delight and then with curiosity, before he faced Alex. “There’s no sign of the”—he coughed—“item ye told us to search for, Cap’n, but we did find Larkin in his hammock. Out cold.”

  Alex glanced toward the city, where a group of men rushed toward them. From their erratic and somewhat besotted running, he guessed it must be Jonas and the rest of his crew. Juliana tugged on his arm, growling like a she-devil, then kicked him in the leg. Pain arched into his thigh, and he spun her around and shoved her against his chest, clamping an arm about her waist. She struggled, kicking and thrashing like a wild cat.

  He faced Conlin. “Don’t stand there like a washed-up carp! Wake him up, man, and ask him where it is!”

  “We tried, Cap’n,” another sailor offered, his eyes all over Juliana. “Threw cold water on ’im an’ everything, but ’e’s buried in ’is cups. Ye know ’ow ’e gets.”

  Yes, Alex did. He growled and ran his other hand through his hair. Now he had no choice but to set sail.

  Chest heaving, Juliana continued to pitch and toss against him. In a rather pleasing way, he might add. Which, he was sure would only infuriate her further should she know.

  “Let go of me, you fiend!” She lifted her leg to kick behind her, but Alex stepped out of the way.

  “Very well, Conlin. Up to the tops with you, then.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  Alex released Juliana. She spun to face him. Did the lady have any idea how beautiful she was when she was angry? How her delicate nostrils flared, her blue eyes flashed, and her hair sprang about her like a lion’s silver main in the moonlight?

  “Now that I’ve seen for myself what a liar and cheat and deceiver and rogue and foul blackguard you are, I have nothing more to say to you. Nor your band of scurrilous fiends. In fact, I hope I never see you again.” She started for the bulwark.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, milady.” He clutched her arm and drew her back. “But alas, I have plenty more to say to you.”

  She kicked him in the shin just as Jonas and the rest of his men leapt aboard. Alex moaned and held the wildcat at a distance.

  “Captain.” Jonas’s gaze took in Juliana with a lift of his brow. “We haven’t much time. Nichols and his men are on the way. Welcome aboard, Miss Dutton.” He bowed.

  “I shan’t be staying long,” Juliana hissed. “I merely wanted to see for myself what a lying cur your captain is.”

  Jonas laughed and glanced at Alex. “You had merely to ask me at our last meeting, and I would have gladly informed you of such.”

  The faint staccato of marching boots drew Alex’s gaze to town, where a band of marines in formation emerged onto Thames Street. Above him, his crew stretched across the yards, unfurling main and fore sails. The canvas dropped, flapping in the faint breeze.

  “Up tops and gallants, jib and staysail!” Alex bellowed. “I want all sails set to the wind! And loose the lines!”

  “Set sail? What are you doing?” Juliana twisted in his grip.

  “Jonas, take her to my cabin. And lock her within.”

  “You will do no such thing! I’m going ashore this instant.” She started for the railing but Alex pulled her back, then bent over and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself. Get the ship underway. And fast.” He cast Jonas a serious look that he knew the quartermaster would heed.

  Juliana flopped and flailed all the way down to the main cabin, calling him names he assumed no lady would know. He hated doing this to her, but there wasn’t time to put her ashore. And he wouldn’t leave her to the wolves of Port Royal—Nichols included.

  He kicked open the door and set her down on the Oriental rug in the center of the room. Casting him a look of fury, she started for him, but he grabbed her by the waist.

  The ship lurched. Musket fire peppered the air. He nudged her down in a chair. “Be good now, milady. I mean you no harm.”

  “Too late for that.” She eyed him, her eyes swimming with pain.

  Frowning, he backed out the door, then shut and bolted it, hating himself more than he ever had.

  Chapter 29

  Juliana held the pistol tightly to her chest and stared out the stern windows at the ebony sea rising and falling from view. A plethora of stars dusted the night sky, flinging snowy glitter onto crests of waves, creating a peaceful aura that betrayed the truth of her situation. For just when she thought things couldn’t possibly get worse …

  She’d been kidnapped by pirates.

  And not just any pirate, but the Pirate Earl, the ruler of all pirates. A man who had lied to her, betrayed her, mocked her, and used her. Though she’d seen it with her own eyes, she still could not believe the Pirate Earl was Lord Munthrope, or visa-versa. She rubbed her temples where a headache brewed. How cruel to foist such trickery upon her. And why?

  She’d spent the first several minutes of her captivity oscillating between shouting and waving her arms at Captain Nichols and his marines lining the wharf, and ducking behind the large oak desk as shots from those same men tore over the ship. If only a few had pierced the windows, then she could have shouted out the holes. But they couldn’t see her. Couldn’t hear her through the panes so stiff with salt and sun that she hadn’t the strength to open them. And though she’d searched the captain’s quarters for flint and steel to light a lantern in order to draw their attention, she’d come up empty. Well, not entirely empty.

  She ran fingers over t
he cold steel of the weapon she’d found in the Pirate Earl’s desk. Thankfully, her brother had taught her how to load and prime a pistol last year. She’d also found a knife, which she’d stuffed in the sash around her waist, and a sword, which she could barely lift. What she intended to do with the weapons, she had no idea. They simply made her feel more in control and less like a frightened little ship’s mouse with nowhere to hide.

  The ship lurched, and she braced herself on the window seat, swallowing a burst of nausea. The last thing she needed was to become ill with mal-de-mer. Though tossing her accounts onto the Pirate Earl’s desk was not without some appeal. It had been at least an hour since she’d seen the lights of Port Royal disappear on the horizon like so many candles snuffed out one by one. Leaving her alone in the darkness, sailing upon the vast sea to only God knew where.

  A tear slid down her cheek. What had she done to deserve this? How was she to run Dutton Shipping? What would happen to Rowan, Abbot, Miss Ellie, Cook, and Mr. Pell? Not to mention that now that the Pirate Earl’s ruse had been discovered, what would he do with her? To her? On many an occasion, she’d seen the longing, the desire in his eyes. Now that he had her at his mercy, what would stop him from doing to her what he’d no doubt intended all along? For she could think of no other reason the man had pursued her as both the Pirate Earl and Lord Munthrope.

  And to think she’d found him kind and charming, even alluring. The horror!

  Every time he’d protected her, every kindness he’d extended, every comfort he’d offered, had only been part of his nefarious plan to trap her. Now, as feet pounded on the deck above and the sails thundered in the mighty wind, she heard his rich, deep voice bellowing orders.

  And her heart betrayed her with a tiny leap.

  Within minutes, the door burst open, letting in a blast of salty wind, the glare of a bright lantern, and the immense form of the Pirate Earl. He no longer wore the ostentatious attire of Lord Munthrope. In its place were tight leather breeches stuffed within knee-high Hessian boots. A leather jerkin covered a white cambric shirt, over which crossed a baldric stuffed with pistols. His coal-black hair was tied behind him in a queue, and the cutlass at his side winked maliciously at her in the light.

  He kicked the door closed, set the lantern atop his desk, and turned to her with smoldering eyes. He smelled of the wild sea and rugged man.

  Juliana pointed her pistol at him. “Don’t come any closer, Pirate, or I’ll shoot you clean through!”

  One side of his lips quirked in a grin as lantern light glinted amusement in his eyes. “You never cease to amaze me, milady.”

  “’Tis Miss Dutton to you, Mr. Pirate. Or should I say Munny?” The gun wavered in her hand.

  He grimaced. “’Twas not my intention to deceive you.”

  “Nay? Was it your intention to kidnap me?”

  “An unfortunate turn of events.” Lifting his baldric, he drew it over his head.

  She thrust her pistol forward.

  He held up a hand. “Just disarming myself.” He laid the pistols on his desk. “Shoot me if you will. I suppose I deserve it.” Remorse stung his tone.

  But she wouldn’t be fooled again. “Suppose?” she snipped.

  Grabbing a bottle from his desk, he poured the amber liquid into two glasses then handed her one.

  She shook her head. “What do you want from me?”

  He downed his drink, took hers, and plopped in a chair. Leaning back, he examined her with those eyes of his that never ceased to send her reason tumbling. The gun grew heavy in her hands. Not a trace of fear registered on his face. Nor was there any of his usual pomposity. Instead, the longing appeared again, along with a hint of frustration and sorrow.

  Water purled against the hull as the ship creaked and groaned on its course. Lowering the gun, she averted her eyes from his perusal.

  “How did you find out?” he finally said.

  “Nichols. He informed me of his plan to trap you.”

  “Ah. So when I left the party …”

  “I followed you. You must think me naught but a silly woman for falling for your schemes.”

  “On the contrary.” He slammed the drink to the back of his throat. “I find you more resourceful, perceptive, and astute than most men I know.”

  She snorted. “You can cease the idle flattery, milord. If you even are a lord. What have you done with the real Lord Munthrope? Tossed him in the bay, perchance?”

  He set his drink on the desk and rose to his ominous height. “My flattery is never idle. Before you stands the one-and-only Alexander Edward Hyde, Lord Munthrope. Or Viscount Munthrope, if you prefer.” He dipped his head.

  She shook hers, unsure whether to scream or cry. How can a pirate be the son of an earl? The ship bucked over a wave, and Juliana braced on the window seat, noting Mr. Pirate had no trouble keeping his balance. She pressed a hand to her roiling stomach.

  He moved toward her. She raised the pistol again.

  “If your stomach bothers you, I can have our cook make some ginger tea.” Why did his voice sound so caring? Fie, but the man was good at lying.

  “I want nothing from you,” she said, motioning with her pistol for him to back up. “So your father was indeed Edmund Merrick Hyde, the great pirate captain.”

  He leaned against his desk and nodded. “He is now the Earl of Clarendon.”

  “Hence piracy taints your blood, withal,” she hissed. “How unfortunate you did not inherit his zeal for God and goodness as well.”

  “God and I had a falling out, I’m afraid.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the stern windows.

  “Finally, a word of truth from your lips.”

  His eyes met hers. “I have told you many things that are true.”

  Lowering the gun to her lap, she glanced out the window, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. “’Tis what you did not tell me that hurts the most.”

  “That I’ve hurt you brings me great sorrow. But that you are no longer enraged gives me hope.”

  She snapped her gaze to him. The intensity in his eyes, the desperation, caused a flutter of sympathy to battle her anger. But she would not fall for his tricks again. “I would not underestimate my fury, Pirate! And whatever it is you hope for, prepare to be disappointed.”

  The deck canted. Creaks and groans joined the purl of water against the hull.

  “I make no doubt I am a rogue, milady. But a rogue whose only desire was to be near you.”

  “Fie! By deceiving me?”

  “By protecting you.”

  “By lying to me.” She fumed.

  He shook his head and took a step closer. “By arranging an engagement that would ease your burden.”

  “So you could play me for a fool.”

  “So I would have reason to be in your company. I knew you were too proper a lady to spend time with a pirate.”

  “That much is true. Yet dressing up like a primped dawcock and dancing around like a foppish jester was a better idea?”

  He gave a little smile. “Nay, I had already created that role.”

  “To what purpose?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I do not wish to know.” She truly didn’t. Besides, he would only lie to her again.

  He took another step closer. Her nerves grew taut. She leveled the pistol at him again. “Stay back! I warn you.” He had circled the desk and was within two yards of her now. Towering over her, all man and strength and confidence. She felt like naught but a scrawny bird in his presence. A rather foolish bird holding a pistol with a single shot she’d probably miss him with anyway.

  “I see you aptly named your ship Vanity after your bloated opinion of yourself.”

  One dark brow raised. “’Twas in reference to the vanity of life, milady, the meaningless of it all, if you’ll allow.”

  “Nay, I will not allow.” The pistol wavered.

  “Give me the gun before you hurt yourself.” He held out his hand.

  “If anyone’s to be hurt, �
�tis you, milord.”

  He raised his brows, humor appearing in his dark blue eyes. Raking a hand through his hair, he dislodged strands from his queue and frowned. “How can I make you understand that everything I did, I did for you?”

  Thoughts filled her mind of how he’d helped Abilene, of all the times he protected her, of how he’d helped her bury her father, and kept her secrets. “Tricks to win my affection.”

  “Did I succeed?” He swallowed and raised a brow over which that silly horse patch still resided.

  “How can you ask me such a thing when you have misused me so horridly?”

  He took another step closer, his boots thumping on the deck.

  Her hand ached from the weight of the pistol, but she held the gun up anyway, hating that her eyes moistened with tears, that he saw his effect on her. “Your intentions become clear to me, now, Pirate.”

  He folded his sinewy arms and stared at her, curiously. “And, pray tell, what are they?”

  “You are a scoundrel of the worst kind. The type of man who takes advantage of a woman who has no father or brother to stand up for her, a woman who carries the burden of her family’s support. Then you shower her with kindness, weaken her will.” With each word, each revelation, fury inflamed every inch of her. “All so you can take her to your bed!”

  His eyes latched upon her, gray raging across the blue like a thunderstorm. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Do you find me so callow, so base?” Anger spiked his tone.

  Ignoring the terror pinching her heart, Juliana thrust out her chin. She would not allow another man to abuse her—not with neglect and insults as her father had meted upon her, nor with fickle untrustworthiness as Rowan had done, and certainly not by ravishing her, as this pirate intended. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled the trigger. The weapon flew from her hand. A loud crack roared in her ears. Smoke bit her nose. Coughing, she pried her eyes open to see the Pirate Earl staring at her through the haze, the smoking weapon in his grip.