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Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

Page 9

by St. Clair, Ellie


  “And apparently, you found me,” he replied, sarcasm filling his voice. “Don’t lie to me. You knew who I was.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “Perhaps I found you a singularly attractive man, Captain. It was nothing more than that.”

  He snorted. “You are lying to me again. I know I must have told you something of my plans as regards the Gunsway.” His flush deepened. “I had partaken of a little too much liquor.”

  Eleanor allowed herself a tinkling laugh as she glanced at the brandy he currently held. "Yes, you did indeed, Captain. For what it is worth, you did speak to me of your plans for the Gunsway, but your words were mostly colored by disappointment and failure." As she spoke, Eleanor studied him and was surprised to see him glance away, before dropping his head to stare at his hands for a brief moment. Apparently, his pain was more than she had realized. Pushing away the jolt of sympathy in her chest, she cleared her throat and prepared to ask her own questions.

  “Why were you so eager to follow through with my plan, Harrington? Why so willing to pretend that Captain Adams is truly gone from this world?” She sat forward, her eyes boring into his as he raised his head. “Have you no honor?”

  He slammed his glass down and rose to his feet with such force that his chair fell to the floor with a clatter, making her jump. His eyes blazed with passion, his face burning.

  "I have more honor than someone like you will ever know," he ground out, his voice shaking, his emotion greater than she had seen from him thus far. "I have been pushed to chase Captain Adams for years, given nothing but mockery and laughter for my troubles. Over and over he has outsmarted me and I will not allow that shame to continue!" His voice slowly faded, and she could almost see the anger draining away from his face. "The Navy has refused to allow me leave from chasing that man," he finished, pouring another brandy. "I cannot bear it any longer."

  Eleanor sat quietly as she watched the captain. He pulled up his chair and sat down, before putting his legs up on the table and crossing them at the ankle. He held the glass of brandy between his two hands and stared, broodingly, across the table. She could tell he was getting deeper into his cups once again, but perhaps that was to her advantage.

  Despite herself, Eleanor felt a stab of sympathy for the man. He had said as much before when he had taken her to his bed back in the tavern, but she had not realized how deeply he felt. She was more than aware that he had not intended to share so much of himself with her, but at least it gave her something of an advantage. She could use that shame and embarrassment to her benefit. A pang of guilt, an unfamiliar sensation, rent her heart for a moment, making her frown.

  “You see, miss,” the captain began, his voice now hoarse with emotion. “You have no idea what you have done to me in pretending to be the very man I have sought for so long. Yes, I agreed to your plan and yes, Captain Adams is now, for all intents and purposes, at the bottom of the ocean, but that does not hide the fact that I know the truth. I know he is still out there, and at some point, the Navy will too.” He looked at her, letting out a long sigh. “Why did you keep that feather?”

  She frowned, his question sending her off balance. She hated that he had seen her moment of weakness. “The captain would want me to keep it.”

  “Why?”

  "It is of sentimental value," she replied, not daring to give more away. She studied his handsome features in the lamplight, seeing the strain on his face as he put his head back against the chair. Clearly, he was a man with many burdens. "Surely now, Captain, if you are free from chasing Captain Adams, you might be given some new task. Is that not enough to lift your spirits?" She did not quite know why she asked such a thing. Perhaps it was the look on his face or the slump of his shoulders. Regardless, she waited until he raised his head to look at her, the fight gone from him completely.

  “I will never be free,” he murmured. “Never allowed to sail where I want, to explore uncharted lands or make up my own crew. I will always be at the Navy’s bidding.” He snorted and drained his glass. “I joined the Navy so that I might be away from under my family’s expectations, only for them to continue to pile upon me from not only my family but the Navy as well.” He shook his head, his eyes taking on something of a glazed look. “It appears no matter where I go or what I do, I shall never be my own man.”

  Eleanor’s heart clenched, seeing him as a man in despair instead of a haughty, proud Navy man.

  “Sometimes, freedom is a choice we have to make ourselves,” she said, softly. “Sometimes, honor is being true to our own heart and not what others wish upon us. What is your given name, Captain?”

  He lifted his empty glass to her. "Lord Thomas Harrington, second son of the Duke of Ware." Eleanor saw his eyes begin to close as he attempted to remain focused on her. "And yours?"

  “Eleanor,” she replied, without thinking.

  “Eleanor,” he repeated, his eyes now firmly closed. “What a wonderful name for a pirate.”

  13

  When Thomas awoke, it was with a thundering headache, muscles stiff from sleeping in a wooden chair, and a complete lack of memory over where he was and what he had done. It was only when he saw the empty glass on the table beside him that it all came back to him.

  He had thrown ‘Captain Adams’ off the ship, pretending to the crew hands that the man had collapsed and that he had seen red spots covering his body just before he’d died. That had forced the men to follow through with his intention of getting the body off the ship almost at once, afraid that there might be some terrible sickness aboard the ship if they did not. And now he was faced with the problem of a sprightly young — female — pirate named Eleanor.

  Frowning, he tried to get to his feet, aware of the blanket that had been placed over him. Where was she?

  It was barely light and he struggled to make out his cabin in the gloom. She was not in the window seat, where he had left her. Scrabbling at his pocket, he let out a long breath of relief as he felt the door key through the material, relieved that she had not attempted to escape. Not that she would have been able to either, given the dark clouds that had surrounded the ship for most of the night. She would need the stars to guide her if she were to escape in the dark.

  Leaning heavily on the chair, he looked around only to spot a figure lying in his bed. Annoyance flooded him at once, making him want to rush over to her and pull her from what was his domain – but then he caught sight of that pale blonde hair spread out across the pillow and something in him exploded with a fiery warmth.

  She was exactly as he remembered her from the tavern, and memories of how she had felt under his hands pushed themselves to the front of his mind. Her chest rose and fell, her eyes tightly closed and lips slightly parted. She had clearly removed her braids for sleep, and the waves they left through her hair made him want to run his fingers through it. A strange desire to press his mouth to those lips almost had him staggering towards her, but instead, he sat back down in the chair and simply watched her.

  Eleanor had been quite right when she’d laughed at his suggestion of putting her into the hangman’s noose. He would never have been able to do such a thing, but at the time he had been able to do nothing other than threaten her in the hope that she might answer his questions with honesty. His anger, now that he had time to consider it, came from a place of confusion and upset. He hated that she had given herself up in the place of Captain Adams, but he equally despised the sensations growing in his chest whenever she smiled at him. He also respected what she had done, and the courage her actions had revealed. She was smart, witty, and bold.

  He wanted her.

  Shaking his head, Thomas let out a low groan. He could not have such feelings for a pirate, and especially not a captive. Her words to him, while made in jest, were too close to the truth for him to be truly comfortable. She was his captive, and he was holding her in his quarters, against her will. What was it about her that had him feeling such things? He had the opportunity to be with or even marry nearly any
woman he chose, a woman who would be proper and upright, who had moral fibre and chose to align herself with the law of the land….but Thomas slowly realized that he did not want that kind of woman.

  That kind of woman was exactly as his life was now: staid and boring, with rules and regulations being the driving force behind it all. Were he to marry a woman like that, she would ensure she produced the heir and the spare, just in case the worst was to happen to his brother, before requesting that she have her own set of rooms in the house, or worse, moving to the country and living her own life. That was not what he wanted. He desired fire and passion, a woman who would be with him because of what she felt, not because of what she felt she ought to do.

  The night he had spent with Eleanor, although it had been short and was somewhat hazy, had been exactly that. She was unlike any other woman of his acquaintance and he could not help but be drawn to that. This was a woman who represented all he longed for in life. Hell, she had even tasted like freedom.

  “She is a pirate still,” he muttered to himself, getting to his feet and walking over to the bed to look down at her. His hand reached out of its own accord and picked up tendril of her hair, rubbing it gently between his fingers before letting it fall. She was a puzzle. She knew how to raise his ire — she rather enjoyed it, he realized — yet she had a caring heart as well. Despite everything, she had been kind enough to remove his boots, place a blanket over him and had then gone to sleep herself, albeit in his own bed. A pirate, yes, but a compassionate one.

  He shook his head and stepped back. That did not add up, for pirates were hard hearted mercenaries, who had no conscience. At least, that is what you have been told, he thought to himself, moving towards the window to look out at the horizon. The sun was only beginning to rise, the first orange beams shooting up into the grayish sky.

  His thoughts wrapped themselves around him until he almost lost himself in his daydreams.

  “It is quite beautiful,” said a soft voice, startling him. He looked down to see Eleanor, her hair unbound and wild around her shoulders, looking out across the sea to where the sun was slowly rising. “I have never become tired of watching a new day begin.”

  Thomas did not know what to say, his heart stopping in his chest as he saw her hair pick up the light of the sun, giving it a fiery glow. Her skin was lit with gold, as the soft smile on her face showed just how much she appreciated the glorious sight.

  It seemed strange that a pirate would care about such a thing as beauty, but he refused to dwell on it any longer. Instead, he simply kept his face turned towards the horizon, watching the sun rise whilst his pirate captive stood next to him, so close that her shoulder brushed his arm. Gooseflesh rose on his skin, hidden by his shirt, as they stood together in silence. He wondered, briefly, if she felt anything akin to what he was struggling with, hoping that, if she did not, that she would not guess what it was he felt. He could not allow himself to dwell on such emotions, however, knowing that he had to somehow get rid of her without permitting her to re-join her ship – as unlikely as that was. No matter what he decided to do, he was sure that she would somehow find herself back on the Gunsway, back with Captain Adams. He still needed to know how she had ended up with such a crew. His heart sank in his chest as he thought of her leaving. The ship would seem cold and dismal without her. But he could not exactly keep her captive here forever, especially when his men could not find out about her.

  “I will be returning to Port Royal,” he said, softly. “It will take us a few days. Once we are there, I will decide what to do with you.”

  She looked up at him, and Thomas felt his breath catch as her eyes met his. They were lit with the sun’s flames, and heat seemed to emanate from them, washing over him like a river.

  “You are not going to hang me, then?” she asked, quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She had seen his empty threats for what they were.

  Shaking his head, Thomas looked back out towards the horizon before turning back towards her face, open and inviting. The anger and frustration that had filled him only yesterday already seemed to have vanished, taken away by the sheer beauty of the woman next to him. She seemed softer, her mockery and sarcasm gone from her. It was as if she had been holding that up like a shield but it was now no longer needed.

  “In truth, Eleanor, I do not know what to do with you,” he answered, heavily. “My path has always seemed so clear but now…” He did not know why he was being so honest with her, but he found he could do nothing less, given the depths of her eyes.

  He couldn’t help himself. Giving into his desire, he took her chin in his hand, leaned in, and kissed her mouth with soft lips. The kiss began slowly, tentatively, but she pressed into him, and he took more, his tongue teasing open her lips before tangling with hers. What began as an unspoken desperate soon turned into something more that he felt deep within himself. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back away from her face, as he forced himself to finally let her go.

  Eleanor leaned back, and their eyes locked as they took in one another.

  “Perhaps your path is too strict,” she said, quietly, stepping back and turning to look back out of the window. “We sail wherever we please, do whatever we wish.”

  The magic of the moment broken, Thomas snorted and stepped away from her, walking back to his table to put distance between them and keep himself from reaching out to her again. “You are pirates. You have no agenda aside from your next plunder.”

  “Do you think pirates are all so very bad?” she asked, coming to perch on the table, right next to where he was sitting. “Are we truly all as terrible as you believe us to be?”

  Sitting back in his chair, Thomas tried not to look at her lithe figure, his brows knitting together with the effort. “The Navy would not be seeking to capture and hang pirates if you were not all selfish and greedy ingrates.” Seeing her brows lift, he rolled his eyes in frustration. “Pirates take what they wish and use it for themselves. It is not right.”

  Eleanor studied him for a few minutes, her mouth settling into a firm line. Thomas knew he had offended her, but tried not to allow any kind of guilt to stab at him. He knew he was right. Pirates were all the same, and they all deserved to be taken from the seas.

  “You are quite wrong, you know,” Eleanor murmured, eventually. “Captain Adams would only steal from — that is, he steals from those who do not need their treasure or came by it dishonestly, and he takes some of his wealth and gives it to the less fortunate.”

  Thomas wanted to snort with derision but kept himself from doing so with an effort.

  "I can see that you do not believe me," she murmured, quietly. "Why not put it to the test, Captain? You are a man of truth and honor, are you not? Perhaps if you asked at the ports, you might discover that not all pirates are as you think. Only recently, Captain Adams handed out wealth to those in Arwenack Castle, keeping enough back to pay the crew’s wages for the next quarter.” She leaned a little closer to him, making him jerk back instinctively. “You know, deep down, Captain Harrington, I believe you are envious of the life we lead.”

  Her words sliced through him, his entire body growing as cold as ice as he stared back at her. He did not want to admit it, but there was a modicum of truth in what she had said. Pirates had the freedom to go where the captain chose to go, pursue what they wished. It was a life he longed for, but one that would possibly always be out of his grasp.

  “You are quite wrong,” he replied, getting to his feet and pushing the chair back. “And do not think for one moment that I intend to let you go back to the Gunsway. I will keep you on board here if I have to!” Seeing the sudden fire in her eyes, he stamped away from her, pulling on his coat and reaching for his hat before unlocking the door and going out onto the deck.

  Locking the door securely, he pocketed the key and strode out into the cool morning wind. Looking up at his ship’s colors, he drew in a long breath, telling himself that he simply could never allow any
kind of jealousy to grow. He had to hope that, now the Navy thought Captain Adams was no more, he might be allowed to choose his next commission. That would give him some kind of freedom, would it not?

  Sighing to himself, Thomas dropped his eyes and stared across the sea. He could not rid himself of what Eleanor had said, the stories she had told him about Captain Adams and his supposed generosity. Would it be wrong to seek out the truth? To discover if, perhaps, these pirates were somehow different to what he’d expected?

  “Where to, Captain?”

  Turning to the lieutenant, Thomas put his hat a little more firmly on his head. “Arwenack Castle, Taylor.”

  “Sir.”

  Watching the lieutenant depart, Thomas swallowed his indecision away, settling his shoulders as he grew a little more sure of himself. He would find out whether the pirate girl spoke the truth or not.

  The only question that remained was, what would he do once he discovered it?

  14

  Their course now charted for Arenwack Castle back in England, Thomas was focused on a group of islands far to the southeast when his lieutenant called to him.

  “Captain, there’s a ship coming quickly, you best come take look. I believe it to be the Gunsway.”

  “They’re likely here for their captain,” Thomas said, taking a look through the spyglass to confirm his lieutenant’s assessment. Normally he would be ecstatic to finally have the ship in his grasp, but now it was a disastrous turn of events. If Captain Adams and his crew managed to board his ship demanding the return of a girl, any career he had remaining would be sunk. He’d be the laughingstock of England.

  “Are they in range?” He asked his lieutenant.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Fire the cannons. In the meantime, prepare the men for battle. The Gunsway would have to be foolish to board us but prepare nonetheless.”

 

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