by Sea Fires
She jerked around when she heard a rattling at the door. It opened, and she stood, wiping her torn sleeve across her face. When a man walked in, her eyes widened. “You!”
Jack couldn’t help grinning at the loathing she injected into that one word. He entered his cabin, truly annoyed with himself when his gaze dropped to her hands in search of possible weapons. “Well,” he said, relieved to see none. “You’re looking charming this morning.” Actually she was a disheveled mess, with tangled hair and dirty face. “Did you sleep comfortably?”
“You... you...” Words escaped her, and abandoning rational thought, she flew at him.
Jack caught her easily by the wrists and held her at arm’s length, “My, my, we are in a temper, aren’t we?”
Miranda blew raven hair from her face. “I demand to know where I am.” His evil chuckle made her twist her arms, but he only tightened his manacle hold.
“You demand, do you? Where do you think you are?” Jack blamed some perverse streak in his character for enjoying tormenting this woman so.
“I don’t kn—” Miranda stopped, cutting short her reply. He was the pirate, so it was only logical she was— “Oh, no.” Her shoulders drooped forward. “I’m on a pirate ship.”
“Aye. The good ship Sea Hawk,” Jack said with some pride.
“Where are you taking me, and why did you kill my father?” A sob escaped her on the last word.
“Kill your father?” Jack dropped one of her hands and swiped aside the midnight black curls still covering her face. He’d meant to give her a little scare in payment for all the trouble she’d caused him, not to mention her attack with the book, but he didn’t like seeing her cry. And he sure as hell didn’t want her thinking he’d killed Henry. “Your father’s not dead.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Miranda dragged her other hand away and scrubbed at the tears that were falling unchecked now. “I know you killed him.”
“God’s blood, I did not kill your father!”
“Then, why didn’t he respond to my cries for help?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why?” Miranda stuck her chin out, daring him to weasel out of his lie.
For a moment Jack just stared at her and her defiant expression. How was he going to answer her? The real reason was out of course. Henry would never forgive him if he told the little hellion the truth. That her father had been cowering behind a locked door and that he’d planned the entire kidnapping.
That explanation being unusable, what excuse could he give? “I tied him up.”
“What?”
“Aye. Tied him up and gagged him.” Jack stood, booted feet apart, hands clasped behind his back. He was warming to this scenario. “I warned him what would happen to you if he interfered.”
“But why do you want me?” There seemed to be a ring of truth to the story about her father. At least Miranda prayed so. Now all she had to worry about was herself.
“Ransom.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“Ransom,” Jack repeated. “I kidnap you. Your father pays my price. I give you back. God’s blood, pirates do it all the time.” Of course this was the first time he’d resorted to it, and if all ransoms were as difficult as this one, Jack figured he’d stay away from them in the future as well.
“I see.”
Jack watched his captive chew on her thumbnail, obviously contemplating his words. He wondered if she realized her nightgown was ripped and that he could easily see the creamy swell of her right breast.
“What if he doesn’t pay?”
“He’ll pay.”
“But what if he can’t? Perhaps he doesn’t have the money.”
“He has the, money. Do you think I go around kidnapping people without knowing how much I can collect? I’m a pirate, for God’s sake!”
“Oh.” It did seem logical. Her father couldn’t pay unless he was indeed alive. And the pirate didn’t appear to have any other reason for taking her, nor could she think of one. There was one more thing. “How much are you getting for me?”
“What?” He never knew a woman—nay, make that anyone—to ask so many questions.
“For my ransom. How much am I worth?” It was a silly question, but Miranda couldn’t help wondering how much her father was asked to pay for her.
Jack was beginning to think two pence was too much, but he refrained from saying it. “That’s my business, not yours,” he growled. “You stay down here, don’t cause any trouble, and before you know it, you’ll be back in Charles Town.” Then, because she looked entirely too relieved, Jack added, “But if you do anything— I mean anything— to annoy me...” Jack left his threat unfinished as he took a menacing step toward her.
“I understand.”
Jack glared at her until he thought her suitably intimidated. “Good. Your things are over there.” He motioned toward a pile on his desk. He’d sent Phin around to Henry’s before they sailed this morning, to gather up some clothes for his captive. And Jack was glad he had. The sooner she changed from that torn night rail that exposed entirely too much of her, the sooner he’d stop thinking of easier ways to close those pretty lips of hers.
Damn, he hadn’t noticed before just how beautiful she was. Or maybe he had and just didn’t want to admit it. Either way, he’d be glad when he could deposit her back on her father’s doorstep.
But for now she was quickly sorting through the bundle on the desk. She looked up at him, her face brightening in a smile. “You brought my microscope.”
“I did? I mean, aye, I did.” What in the hell was the damn microscope doing here? He’d said clothes. Have Henry pack some clothes for her. That’s all. Leave it to Henry to provide his daughter with all the comforts of home. Jack was surprised the older man hadn’t insisted his cook and a lady’s maid accompany Miranda on her kidnapping.
But the microscope did seem to make her happy. She didn’t appear to give a care to the dresses she’d scattered about. And maybe if she was happy, she’d stay out of his—
“What?” he asked. His captive was looking at him with an expression of pure loathing. Jack hated to admit it, but he liked the smile a lot better.
“You’re scheming to steal it, aren’t you?”
“What? The microscope?” He watched as she clutched the stupid thing to her breast like a mother protecting her offspring. “Don’t be a blooming idiot. What would I want that thing for?”
“Why, for one thing it’s terribly expensive. For another you could study all manner of insects and plant life and in just one drop of water—”
“I know all about the little animals swimming around in my water,” Jack said with more than a hint of disbelief in his voice.
“Animalcules,” Miranda corrected. “And they are there.” He was so insufferably arrogant. Miranda wished she didn’t find his face and form so appealing. Lord, what was she thinking?
“So you say.”
And ignorant, Miranda decided again. He was totally ignorant, and apparently content to stay that way. “A man with any intelligence would wish to find out for himself.” Her delicate raven brows lifted ever so slightly.
Dumb! The wench was calling him dumb! Him! Jack felt anger seep up through him like a rising tide. Maybe he hadn’t had much formal education since the Spanish attack on Port Royal, but he sure as hell wasn’t dumb. He could sail a ship and outsmart an enemy and calculate his position by the stars, not to mention calculating the worth of the cargo he stole. And he had managed to make her his prisoner.
Unfortunately, Jack wasn’t certain he could use that as an example of his intelligence. He was beginning to fear her kidnapping could be used to prove her point.
Regardless, the woman had to be crazy to chide him so, under the circumstances. Jack folded his arms across his chest and leveled his gaze on her. “All I need know of water ‘tis that it quenches my thirst and floats my ship.” Turning on his booted heel, Jack stomped from the cabin, vowing to have naught to do with the chit until he c
ould bundle her off to Henry.
Miranda stood staring at the door, gnawing on her thumbnail. She’d made the pirate angry—really angry. She had noticed the rise of color under his tanned skin. And the way he clenched his jaw until a muscle twitched.
She thought him ignorant, but had proven herself even much more so. Who with any sense would anger a pirate? A pirate who held her very life in his huge hands. Miranda shook her head.
And informing him that the microscope was expensive was just inviting him to steal it. Miranda sank down in a chair. She really had to be more careful around him.
If she believed him—and Miranda found she did—her father was safe, and she would be, too, as soon as the ransom was paid. Miranda wished she’d asked when he thought that would be. Grimacing, Miranda decided not to press her luck by inquiring.
Besides—she glanced around the cabin—her accommodations weren’t too bad, and she did have her microscope. Miranda brushed aside a petticoat, smiling when she saw the parchment. She had everything she needed to work and study.
Satisfied, Miranda stood. First she’d dress. For the first time this morning she looked down at herself. She screeched in horror. Her night rail was torn. She clutched at the fabric, trying to cover her breast, cringing with embarrassment because she knew it was far too late.
No wonder the pirate’s eyes had kept drifting lower than her face. The blackguard! The miscreant! The bastard! Miranda couldn’t think of enough terrible names to call him.
“Why in the hell did you bring that microscope on board?”
Phin glanced up from tying rigging around a belaying pin and grinned his gap-toothed grin. “Well, good morn to ye, too, Cap’n.”
Jack ignored his sarcasm, which maybe wasn’t a good idea. What the quartermaster needed was a couple licks of the cat to remind him about proper respect. But there was no use threatening it. They both knew Jack wouldn’t have him flogged. Besides, if he were to flog anyone, it would be the little lady below—
Jack forced his mind from such thoughts. He knew he wouldn’t do that either. “I asked you a question, Phin.”
Phin gave the rope an extra tug. “Was only followin’ orders, Cap’n. Yer orders,” he added for emphasis.
“I know very well what my orders were, and they did not include bringing that... that instrument aboard.”
Phin shrugged. “Mr. Chadwick musta packed it up with her things.”
“And you had no idea it was there?” Jack’s hands rested on his lean hips. “You couldn’t tell the difference between some frilly dresses and a wooden crate?”
“Well.” Phin squinted his face. “Maybe I did figure it was that microscope thing. But I ain’t recallin’ ye sayin’ not to bring it with me.”
Jack could do nothing but stare against that sort of reasoning.
“Besides, ain’t ye just a tiny bit curious to see them little animals?”
Jack shut his eyes. “God’s blood, not you, too.” When he opened them again his glare could make even the bravest man tremble. “For the last time, there are no little invisible animals!”
“But she done said—”
“Phin!” Jack took a deep breath. ‘There will be no more talk of this. Do you understand me?”
“Aye, sir.”
The quartermaster’s demeanor wasn’t as convincing as his words, but Jack let it drop. “Good. Now get below and take our prisoner some breakfast.”
“Aye, sir.” This response was much more enthusiastic.
“No, wait.” Jack reached out to grab Phin’s arm. “Give the lady another quarter of an hour before you go.” Jack had nothing against seeing his prisoner in a torn nightgown himself. As a matter of fact, he quite enjoyed it. But others seeing her that way was a different thing altogether.
And Jack didn’t like to wonder why that was.
Even though this time a hearty knock preceded the rattle of key turning lock, Miranda expected to look up and see the pirate captain standing in the doorway.
She wondered at her flicker of disappointment when instead a small wiry pirate stuck his grizzled head in through the opening.
“Got some vittles for ye,” he announced before pushing on into the room. “Ain’t much. But then when ye ain’t got no time to set in supplies, ye can’t be too picky.”
The wrinkled little man eyed her as if he thought the entire thing Miranda’s fault. He also waited as if he expected some sort of reply. She watched him nearly drop the heavy pewter tray on the desk. A thin, grayish green gruel slopped over the sides of the metal dish. Miranda cleared her throat. “I’m certain it will be fine.”
“Ye ain’t tasted it yet.”
And if she weren’t so hungry, she wouldn’t. But food had never held much importance to Miranda except to replenish her body, so she waved his comment away. She hoped she wouldn’t be prisoner on this ship long.
Miranda assumed the man, whose skin was darkened a nut brown, would leave, but he continued to just stand there. Now his black gaze was riveted to the top of the desk.
“That there, that scope thing?” he asked while rubbing his grizzly chin with a gnarled forefinger.
“My microscope, yes,” answered Miranda hesitantly. She’d just recognized this man as the second pirate from the attack on the ship she took from England. The one who had wanted to steal her microscope. Miranda inched her way between the desk and the pirate.
The pirate didn’t seem to notice. He was still rubbing at his chin, and now he started shuffling back and forth on cracked and worn boots. “Ye don’t suppose I could—”
“The microscope is mine.” Didn’t the pirate captain just say as much?
Phin’s obsidian eyes flashed to hers. “I ain’t aimin’ to change that. Just wanted to get a look at them animals swimmin’ around.”
“The animalcules.” Miranda’s shoulders relaxed.
“Aye, them things. I’m kinda curious to see such a thin’.”
“You are? I mean, you are. Of course you are.” Could this pirate, this gnarled outlaw from society, be a kindred spirit? All Miranda knew was that curiosity drove her... excited her. And from the looks of this man, it excited him, too.
“Wait just a moment and I’ll show you.” Miranda finished clearing away the maps and charts that were covering the desk and set them in a pile on the floor. Then she set up her microscope. From the bucket near the door she scooped a small amount of water. “If you would light the candles, I think perhaps you can see better.”
It seemed like she took forever to move the blasted thing to just the right spot and move the little looking glasses around, but finally she stepped away and motioned for Phin to take her place. “There. Don’t be afraid.”
Phin straightened. “I ain’t feared a no little animals. No biggins neither,” he clarified.
“Of course you aren’t. I simply meant that sometimes things that we don’t understand can be somewhat... frightening.” Miranda pressed on because she saw she’d hurt his pride again. “It’s’ like that for everyone, I suppose. But the truly brave people are the ones, like you, who do it anyway. Cowards will shy away. Not even take the chance that there might be something there they could learn.”
“The cap’n ain’t no coward.”
“I didn’t mean...” Miranda stopped because she had a sneaking suspicion she was referring to the pirate captain, and she didn’t like to lie.
“I never seen him flinch in a fight.”
“I’m certain he’s a wonderful fighter.” Obviously this man thought a lot of his captain.
“Even when he was no more’n a lad and just escaped from them filthy, thievin’ Spaniards, he never backed down from no man.”
She really didn’t want to know the pirate captain’s history—or anything else about him for that matter. “Come here. Hold this up. Just squint your eye and look through this little hole,” she said, trying to stem the flow of information.
The pirate followed her instructions—only a little reluctantly. Miranda could te
ll the exact moment he focused in on the animalcules. He jerked, his face a mask of incredulity.
“Ye put them in there,” he accused.
“No I didn’t.” Miranda worked hard to smother her grin. “It’s just a plain drop of water.”
He looked again—longer this time. Then he eyed Miranda suspiciously. “How come I can’t taste ‘em. Or feel ‘em crawlin’ round me mouth.” He screwed up his face, and Miranda thought for a moment he planned to spit on the floor.
“Because they’re so small. You can’t even see them without a microscope. No one can.”
“But—”
“Your captain has a spy glass, doesn’t he? Have you ever looked through it?”
“Aye.” The pirate nodded for emphasis.
“It makes things that are far away look closer. By magnifying them. The microscope does the same thing. It uses specially ground lenses to make thing look bigger.” She wasn’t sure the pirate understood her explanation. He only shrugged and squinted to have another look.
“Of course, there are different types of animalcules. They’ve been discovered in rain water and sea water.”
“Let me see some a them.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything but fresh water here in the cabin.”
“Get yourself up on deck. You’ll find more salty brine than you can handle.”
“I’m certain I would. However, your captain has restricted me to this cabin.”
“Has he now?” Phin rubbed his chin. “Don’t ye worry none, I’ll see to the cap’n.” He stole one more quick peek through the microscope. “Better be on me way. Name’s Phin, your ladyship. I’ll be back.”
Miranda didn’t know how Phin managed it, but the next morning he returned saying he was to accompany her on deck for her morning outing. “Ye’ll be getting an evening stroll, too,” he confided.
The sun was bright, the wind was warm and brisk singing through the sails, and Miranda was very happy to be on deck.
If she didn’t know better—which of course she did—Miranda would have thought herself on an ordinary ship. The crew looked perhaps a little more savage than that on the vessel that brought her from England. But not by much.