Hart's Reward (Pirates & Petticoats #3)

by Chloe Flowers

  If he were to be honest with himself, it really wasn’t entirely the attack by Gampo that had rendered him ashamed to enter a church, although his coat had been torn and his breeches stained with grime from helping a mate adjust a ship’s gun; it was the thought of his mother’s look of disappointment that had given him pause to consider his appearance before attending his sister’s wedding.

  Although they weren’t here, both his parents would expect him to see his sister married properly while representing the O’Brien family proudly.

  He scrubbed a little harder.

  If anyone had asked him a few months ago if his best friend would marry again, he’d have laughed.

  Women were too hard a concept to understand, for one. They were weak, silly, helpless and emotional, making them more of a burden than anything else. Aside from the women in his family, women in general weren’t to be trusted, at least not the women he usually ran across when anchored at port. And if he paused long enough to include his sister Marina, a spy for…never mind that. Suffice it to say that the less he trusted women, the better off he was.

  No, the notion of marriage didn’t appeal to Conal in the least, unless…he thought for a moment. If he found a woman more like his other sister, Keelan, he might consider it. Keelan was as good or better with a blade than any man on his ship. She was quick-minded independent. He’d never met another woman, save his Aunt Risa, who belonged on the deck of a ship more than his sister, Keelan.

  He didn’t want to keep Keelan waiting for him. His cousin, Brendan’s, ship was docked at the pier but the Seeker had to drop anchor further out in the harbor due to a thick cloud of fog that obscured everything beyond a couple hundred paces. Conal had had to row a canoe back to his ship to bathe and change. Brendan was probably already back at the tavern and looking like the handsome devil he was, boots polished and collar starched.

  Conal would be damned if his cousin would find fault in his appearance this day. Brendan always seemed to find a loose chain in Conal’s armor, where appearances were concerned.

  But not today.

  Conal had already trimmed his beard and polished his boots to a glowing shine. Even now, his boots reflected the low glow of the lantern hanging overhead. He’d show Brendan that he knew how to dress for his sister’s wedding.

  Conal leaned over and grabbed for the linen cloth draped over the edge of the tub. After wiping his face, he braced his hands on the rim and pushed himself to his feet.

  When he raised his head, his nose nearly clipped the barrel of a pistol. A faint acrid smell of gun powder assailed his nostrils.

  Eyes focused on the cold, grey metal, Conal froze for a second before he raised his gaze to peruse the person holding the weapon. Behind the gun barer was a second figure, armed as well.

  “You have my attention,” he said evenly. The one holding the pistol stood between him and the lantern, but from what he could see, he was tall but slight in build. If it wasn’t for the pistols, Conal wouldn’t have hesitated to lunge for both of them. The man must have been thinking along a similar line of thought, because the pistol shook slightly.

  “This ship has been taken,” the figure said softly. “If you value your life, and the lives of the crew that remain, you will comply with our demands.”

  Conal’s stomach twisted in his gut. How did he miss the sound of battle aboard? Granted, all but the watch and a handful of men still making repairs to the damaged sails and yard arms had been allowed to go ashore to attend the wedding celebration, but he should have heard a shout or a pistol shot even down here in the galley. How many men had lost their lives?

  He cursed under his breath. “And what, may I ask, are your demands, exactly?” Conal tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

  Stevie swallowed and gripped the pistol handle more firmly. Her arm was beginning to tire from holding it for so long, but she didn’t dare lower it. The massive mountain of a man in the tub looked as if he could crush her head like a grape with one hand and her younger brother, Remi’s with the other one. Stevie was tall for a woman; at nearly six feet, uncommonly so. More often than not, she could look a man straight in the eye, however with this man, her head would probably barely reach his nose.

  He cocked his head, still awaiting her answer.

  “Stevie,” Remi whispered, bringing her thoughts back in line. What was the question? Oh, yes. Demands.

  “Relinquish the ship and all its cargo,” she said. Her gaze paused at the gold ring on his finger. “Starting with your ring,” she smiled, holding out her hand. If they were going to become pirates, she might as well start acting like one.

  The man’s jaw clenched and the knuckles gripping the tub’s edge whitened. She could almost see the thoughts flying around in his head. He was contemplating his chances of overpowering her and taking her pistol. If he hadn’t been unarmed and if it had been a one on one situation, instead of one against two (with guns), he wouldn’t have paused to contemplate it this long. He would have lunged.

  She eased a step back, careful to keep her pistol well in range. “Please don’t try it,” she said. “I’d prefer to save my shot.”

  His eyes widened and his brows raised in surprise. She’d been right in her assumptions, then. She usually was. Her intuition annoyed her brothers no small amount and they always avoided her when they wished their thoughts to remain…theirs. She knew they often wondered if she could actually read their minds, but in truth, she knew them as well as they knew themselves, making it easy to guess their intentions. Only Bastian could hide from her, but he was a gambler so it was expected, otherwise he wouldn’t be a very good gambler, would he?

  The mountain of a man twisted the ring from his finger and tossed it to her. She placed it on the only finger it would fit—her thumb.

  Keeping her focus on their hostage, she moved behind him to the stack of clothes on the galley table and removed the dagger and pistol next to them.

  “Get dressed.”

  He stood and reached for the linen rag. Stevie felt her eyes widen. She was wrong. The top of her head would barely reach his chin, let alone his nose. Wide, thick shoulders rippled as he moved. A long scar trailed from the top of his shoulder to the middle of his ribcage.

  She should shut her eyes, but to do so would be foolish right now. She’d never seen a naked man as perfectly proportioned as this one. To be honest, she’d only seen one other naked man before (other than her terribly immodest brothers while growing up).

  Remi’s mortified expression from the doorway, prompted her to rolled her eyes and give him a pointed look that he interpreted perfectly. She’d changed Remi’s diapers when she was eight and bathed him until he was five. She’d seen him naked too, and it was no big deal then, either.

  Stevie had lost her virginity after falling hopelessly in love with a dark haired, dark eyed gambler who’d promised her a life of travel and luxury. Two days later, after losing everything he had as well as several hundred dollars in credits to Bastian, he disappeared and never returned.

  Although she never asked him, she suspected that Bastian had challenged her beau with the intention of emptying his pockets and forgiving his debts if he left town and didn’t return.

  Looking back, she’d been a foolish young girl who thought she was in love. Bastian had known the type of man her lover was and had probably saved her from a very unhappy life, had they ever married.

  Their captive turned toward her and reached for his clothes. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she could barely swallow. He had a chiseled chest with a faint layer of fine, light brown hair that darkened to a burnished auburn as it trailed past his navel to his…

  He was well-proportioned…indeed.

  When she turned her attention back to his face his expression was rather mocking. “Satisfied?” he asked.

  She assumed he was talking about her perusal and couldn’t help but wonder if he’d already guessed she was a woman in breeches.

  Before she could help herself s
he said, “Not really.”

  When he raised his brows in askance she simply said, “I guess I was expecting…well…more.”

  He snorted his response and jerked on his clothes. A pair of shiny, cordovan boots stood next to the tub and he pulled them on while he muttered obscenities about someone named Brendan. That task complete, he stood up straight, crossed his arms over his very impressive chest and glowered at her. His eyes were a grey-green with a golden band around the pupil, reminding her of a tiger she’d once seen in a traveling show. She did her best to look dangerous, although she didn’t doubt she completely failed in the effort. Gesturing toward the door with the gun, she followed him topside.

  Almost soundlessly, he moved in long, sinuous strides through the passageway and up the ladder. He smelled of soap, new leather boots and a musky scent that she knew was all him.

  Her thoughts jumped to her brothers up on the main deck. They’d sent her to the galley to see what kind of stores the ship had. No one expected that she’d find a man down here.

  They’d watched the ship for a couple hours and saw most of the crew depart for shore. The rest stayed topside. Her uncle thought the men were probably told to keep watch, but perhaps assuming the dense fog would discourage any subterfuge, they proceeded to gather around an upturned crate near the mizzen mast and play cards, enabling Stevie and the rest of the band to surround them.

  The crew had surrendered with barely a word.

  It had been a foolhardy plan.

  Ridiculous.

  Dangerous.

  Crazy.

  And absolutely imperative that they succeed.

  I hope you enjoyed reading a sample of the next book in the series!

  For more information, or to download the entire book check out my website:

  www.chloeflowers.com

  Lemon Scones

  Bake at 350 for 11-14 minutes

  3 cups of flour

  1/3 cup white sugar

  1 1/2 tsp baking powder

  1 1/2 tsp soda

  1/3 tsp salt

  Mix above ingredients together. Cut in the butter below until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

  3/4 cup cold butter cut into pieces

  9 tablespoons of milk

  3 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice (about 1 lemon’s worth)

  2 1/2 tsp lemon zest (be careful to use the bright yellow rind only-stay away from the white pith)

  1 1/2 tsp. Vinegar

  Whisk the wet ingredients above together and mix into the dry ingredients until moistened. Turn out on to a lightly floured surface and knead for 5 or 6 turns. Pat dough into a 1 inch thick round. Cut into 10 wedges and arrange them in a round on a cookie sheet leaving one inch between each wedge.

  Bake at 350 for 11-14 minutes

  Glaze

  2 cups of Confectioners Sugar

  1/3 cup melted butter

  1/2 tsp. Vanilla extract

  1 tsp. Lemon juice

  Mix together. If it’s too thick to drizzle over the scones, you can add water a teaspoon at a time until it’s thin enough.

  Bannocks

  This is a traditional Scottish cake usually made with oatmeal or barley meal and served during high tea. Many Scots settled in and near the Low Country. As corn meal was very popular and plentiful, it was often used instead of, or in addition to flour.

  Original recipe:

  Boil 1 pint of milk and pour on 1 pint of Indian meal (corn meal) set aside.

  Beat well 4 egg yolks with 1 pint of cold milk. Beat in the egg whites, then add 1 teaspoon of baking soda and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Bake.

  *If you want a more traditional Scottish Bannock, then you must try one developed by chef Theresa Carle-Sanders. On her blog “Outlander’s Kitchen,” she presents historical and character-inspired recipes from the fictional world created by Diana Gabaldon, author of The Outlander series. It’s brilliant and so yummy!

  Yield: 1 Dozen Bake 12-15 minutes

  Move rack to upper middle position and heat oven to 400° F.

  2 Cups All-Purpose Flour – plus extra for kneading

  1 Cup Quick Cooking Oats

  1 Tablespoon Baking Powder

  1 tablespoon Sugar

  ½ tsp. Salt

  ½ Cup Butter, cold

  ¾ Cup Milk

  ½ Cup Plain Yogurt

  Combine flour, oats, baking powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Grate cold butter into dry ingredients and mix well.

  Stir together milk and yogurt. Add to dry ingredients and stir with wooden spoon to make a sticky dough.

  Turn onto a floured counter and sprinkle with more flour. Knead dough lightly 5 or 6 times, working in additional flour, so that dough is no longer sticky

  Roll into 8”x8” square, about ½” thick. Cut into 12 equal rectangles and arrange on prepared baking pan, lined with parchment or silicone baking sheet.

  Bake until just golden, 12-15 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes before serving.

  Serve warm with butter, cheese and jam, the roasted meat of your choice, or your morning porridge. Keep, in a covered container, for up to 3 days.

  Notes:

  To cook your bannocks on the stove top, preheat a large cast iron pan over medium-low for 5 minutes. Cook the bannocks in batches until golden brown on both sides, about 5-7 minutes/side.

  Slather with butter and honey or your favorite jam.

  Ham Patties

  Used left over mashed potatoes or boil potatoes, mash them and prepare as you would regular mashed potatoes, leaving out the salt. Chop up ham into fine pieces and form into patties. Fry until golden brown. This makes a fine breakfast dish.

  (I found that adding sautéed peppers and onions is very flavorful.)

  Indian Corn Meal Cakes

  Original recipe:

  Add 1/4 pound of butter to 1 quart of milk and boil.

  Add 1 teaspoon of salt to 1 pint of Indian meal (corn meal) and pour boiled milk and butter over it and mix. Let sit for 2 or 3 hours.

  Separate 4 eggs. Set the 4 whites aside. Add 2 additional whole eggs to the 4 egg yolks and beat well and add to the Indian meal mixture.

  Add about 5 tablespoons of wheat flour (or white flour) and more milk if the batter is too stiff.

  Yep, that’s it. So again, I had fun experimenting until I came up with a bake temp and time that seemed to work. Since the recipe is for “cakes” in stead of “a” cake, I tried using a muffin pan at 350 degrees for about 20 min.

  A Parrothead at heart, Chloe’s love for pirates began with Peter Pan and continued with Pirates of the Caribbean and ghost stories about pirates from the Outer Banks. She listens to Celtic music while she writes. When life gets too serious, she reads Calvin and Hobbes comics. She lives in Ohio with her tall, dark and handsome husband, three children and two rambunctious dogs, Indiana and Luke, who are named after her two favorite action heroes.

  Descended from a family of cooks and gourmet chefs, Chloe is a true foodie and along with working for fortune 500 companies in marketing and teaching MBA students strategic marketing, she also ran a gourmet cookie company. Cooking for a crowd runs in the blood, so her fridge is always full. She deals with stress by baking pies (just ask her college roommates what it was like for them around exam time).

  Her idea of a perfect day? Sailing on the caribbean with her family, sun in her face and wind at her back, and finishing the day in the kitchen making a fab gourmet meal and sipping a glass of wine.

  The Pirates & Petticoats Series is about spunky heroines and the scoundrels who love them.

  This is a 5 book series:

  Hart's Desire (May 2016)

  Hart's Passion (May 2016)

  Hart's Reward (June 2016)

  Pirate Heiress (August 2016)

  Pirate King (out November 2016)

  The next series: Bridal Veil Falls-the Town of Happily Ever Afters.