Dead Man's Chest (The Plundered Chronicles Book 5)

by Alex Westmore

  Her brother, Patrick, had gotten married and his first baby had been due while en route to the New World.

  Her first stop after the tavern would be Bronwen’s. She needed to know if Lord Moynihan had pulled through the poisoning. She needed her own heart rubbed and some emotional salve rubbed on her chest.

  Maybe Tavish was right. Maybe she had moped around long enough. Maybe it was time for her to heal the wound from the great loss they had suffered.

  Ireland would heal her. Love and friendship and family would heal her. Being with Kaylish and not having to command the ship would do wonders for her spirit.

  She needed this. Perhaps even more than her crew.

  Home.

  Always the last to leave the ship, Quinn stood on the pier and gazed at the sloop the men had named the Edge. It was sleek and fast, and already, she was enjoying captaining the fast ship. It truly was—

  “Yer a sight fer sore eyes, Callaghan.”

  Turning, Quinn’s face lit up. “Becca.”

  Becca threw her arms around Quinn’s shoulders and crushed her to her ample chest. “I have missed ya somethin’ awful. Feels like ya been gone a year.”

  “You mean I wasn’t?” Quinn gave her a quick squeeze before pulling away. Becca was thinner than when she’d left, and her hair was longer and blonder. She looked gorgeous, and Quinn told her as much. “You’ve never looked better, Becca.”

  “I’ve never been happier. She is so good to me and really understands what I need and how I am feelin’. It is lovely.”

  Lovely?

  Quinn smiled. “I am happy to hear that, and it shows on you.”

  “Thank you. Ya need to eat, love. Yer far too thin.” Becca reached up and brushed a stray hair from Quinn’s face. “I heard the men talkin’ and it sounds like ya lost quite a few men.”

  “We did.”

  Becca threaded her arm through Quinn’s. “Come on. We have a new cook and I’d love to show you what all she cooks.”

  They made their way, arm in arm, to the tavern where her men were already carousing, laughing, drinking, and telling stories about the natives they’d encountered. Stories of heroism, both real and imagined, flowed like the ale.

  “Sit, sit, Callaghan,” Becca said, motioning for one of the wenches to come over. “We’ll get food and ale in your belly and then you can tell me about this amazing journey of yers.”

  “Bec—”

  But she was gone.

  Quinn glanced around the tavern. No sign of Kaylish or Gallagher. “Where’s Kaylish?”

  Fitz slammed an ale back and burped loudly. “They’re with Tavish and Maggie who are tryin’ to get their hands on some horses and carriages.”

  Quinn nodded. She was bone-weary from all the sailing. A hot meal would be fabulous, and Quinn looked forward to the meal, a warm bed, and a hot body.

  When the serving wench brought Quinn a dark, meat-filled stew with a chunk of bread, Quinn dug in and ate in silence until Becca sat next to her.

  “Good?”

  Quinn chewed and nodded. “So good. We’ve been living on smaller rations for a month. This is delicious.”

  Becca lightly caressed Quinn’s back. “You’re too thin. Gaunt, I believe is the right word. You eat as much as you need.”

  Quinn wiped her mouth with her hand. “I’ve missed you, Becca. This is so good.” Sliding a purse full of silver to Becca, Quinn said, “This is for the bill. Do not take enna coin from my men.”

  Becca took the purse before leaning over and kissing Quinn on the cheek. “I thought of you every day and prayed you were safe.”

  “Oh, she was safe. Very safe.” Kaylish.

  “Becca!” Gallagher wrapped her arms around Becca’s waist.

  “Well who might you be? You can’t be my sweet little Gallagher. You’re far too tall!”

  Gallagher giggled.

  “Gallagher, will you please go sit with Maggie for a moment? Maybe Becca will sit for a minute and hear your stories.”

  Becca looked from Quinn to Kaylish and back again. “Of course. I can’t wait to hear all about it. You sit over there, and we’ll get you some stew. I’ll be right over.”

  “Promise?”

  Becca kissed the top of Gallagher’s head. “I promise.”

  When Gallagher was gone, Quinn started, “Becca, I—”

  “I know, Callaghan. This is your new lover.” Becca extended her hand. “I doubt she told you of me. I’m—”

  “Becca. And of course she’s told me about you. I am well aware of all the kind things you have done for Gallagher. She loves you very much. Gallagher, that is.”

  The two women kept their eyes locked together for a moment of tension that choked Quinn’s words.

  Finally, Kaylish asked, “Is your woman here?”

  Becca did not take her eyes from Kaylish. “Actually, she should be here shortly.”

  Quinn swallowed hard. “Becca is courting a—”

  “I know who she is involved with. Very impressive.” Kaylish started toying with the back of Quinn’s neck.

  “Impressive. Why? Because she is gorgeous, sexy, and successful?” Becca’s voice was chillingly cold.

  “Because that is quite a step up from the world of a serving wench, aye?” Kaylish asked.

  Quinn’s eyes grew wide and she started to rise.

  Becca placed a hand on Quinn’s shoulder and shoved her back down. “Step up?” Becca’s words came out like a frozen rope. “You mean, up from a lowly pirate?”

  “Now wait a—” Quinn started to rise again, but this time, both women held her down.

  “Lowly pirate are your words, Lady Breckenridge.”

  Quinn’s head swiveled around to Kaylish. “Lady Bre—”

  “Callaghan is better than five of your wanking married women, Becca. She is not a lowly pirate, but clearly, you see her as such.”

  The tavern started to quiet down as the two women squared off, both with one hand on Quinn’s shoulders.

  “Don’t act like ya know enna thing about me, Miss High and Mighty who is dabblin’ in a world she does not belong in.”

  “I belong in whatever world Callaghan is in.”

  Quinn was rooted, literally, in her place.

  “Is that so?” Becca waved her free hand around. “Including here? Because Callaghan and her crew belong here… where they come every single time they dock. Every. Single. Time. So you would do well to remember yer manners.”

  “And you would do well to remember that these men can always take their business elsewhere. This is not the only dirty tavern in the—”

  Moving faster than her size might belie, Becca hauled off and punched Kaylish in the face, knocking her sprawling backward on the table behind them.

  The patrons were immediately up on their feet, excited about seeing a fight they seldom got to see.

  Quinn finally jumped to her feet in time to prevent Becca from charging forward. With both hands on Becca’s chest, Quinn shook her head. “Becca, stop!”

  “She can drop your name in the mud, Callaghan, but not my tavern. Not ever my—”

  Quinn never saw Kaylish coming. Instead, she felt the air move past her cheek as Kaylish connected with Becca’s left cheek, sending her staggering a couple steps backwards.

  The men roared.

  Quinn half turned when Kaylish shoved Quinn out of the way and launched herself at Becca, taking her down to the dirty tavern floor with a yank of her hair.

  “You bloody twot!” Kaylish yelled, punching Becca in the face once more before Tavish grabbed Kaylish around the waist to pull her off.

  But Becca was, once more, swifter than she looked and her hand shot out and grabbed Kaylish’s belt, pulled her close enough to strike.

  The men pounded on the tables and cheered.

  Quinn understood they were not rooting for either woman. They just appreciated a good fight even if it was between two women.

  Or maybe more so because it was between two women.

 
As Quinn moved to block Becca’s next punch, she successfully prevented her fist from hitting Kaylish…because it hit Quinn’s chin instead.

  The room went still.

  “What in Christ’s name is going on here?”

  All eyes turned to see Lady Pettigrew standing in the doorway, a scowl of disapproval on her face, her hands on her hips. “Is this what it’s come down to?”

  The men, sensing an end to the fun, returned to their benches.

  Tavish remained in front of Kaylish, whose nose was bleeding. Quinn stayed in front of Becca, whose torn lip bled.

  No one moved.

  “I would say welcome home, Captain Callaghan, but it appears your presence has once again disrupted Becca’s peaceful life.”

  “My presence? We always—”

  “I know what you always do, Captain Callaghan, but since you’ve been gone, her life has changed profoundly for the better. So when I walk in to find that precious woman bruised and bleeding and you standing next to her…well…I am not about to stand here and—”

  “That’s quite enough,” a loud voice boomed through the tavern. “All of ya.”

  All eyes shifted to Maggie, who rose. “Lady Pettigrew, is it? We are customers… paying customers. Good customers, and you’ll not speak to our captain in such a manner without risk of retribution. You do not order us about. You do not come in halfway through an argument and then pass judgment on it. In short, you do not.”

  “I do not—”

  “Yes, M’lady, you do not. Now, tend to your woman and leave us to enjoy our celebration, but speak no more to Captain Callaghan or you and I will have a go, and I guarantee I hit much harder than the young woman over there. Understood?”

  Becca made her way over to Lady Pettigrew and took her hand. “Maggie is right. This is not the time or the place.” To Quinn, she said, “I am glad you made it back. I’ve left a gift for you out on the dock. It’s been long in coming, but I figured you’d appreciate it and I told you a long time ago, I would find it.” And to Kaylish, she said, “Hurt her, and this is just the beginning of my wrath.”

  Quinn held her hand up to silence Kaylish. “Please. No more.” To Maggie, she said, “Thank you.”

  “Yer not perfect, Callaghan, but yer our captain and no one, not even a woman, can talk to you like that.”

  “Now,” Tavish said, “Everra body get back to the merriment! We are home!”

  The men roared and Quinn motioned to the serving wench to keep pouring.

  Kaylish accepted a handkerchief from Fitz and wiped the blood from her nose. “Well, that could have gone better.”

  Gallagher ran over to Kaylish and hugged her.

  “I’ll go clean myself up and will take Gallagher with me.”

  Quinn nodded. “Good. I need some fresh air. I’ll be back shortly.”

  As Quinn started for the door, Tavish stopped her.

  “Ya all right, lad?”

  She nodded. “I just need a moment. I’ll be right back. Keep the ale coming.” With that, Quinn walked outside and back toward the Edge.

  As she neared the dock, she saw the back of a young boy looking up at the ship. But as she got closer, she realized it was no boy.

  It was…

  It was…

  It was Evan.

  “Evan?” Quinn’s heart leapt when the person turned around and, sure enough, it was her former lover.

  “Hi, Cap.”

  In three long strides, Quinn had Evan locked in a tight embrace. “It is so good to see you! Whatever are you doing here?”

  Evan leaned out of the embrace. “Didn’t she tell you?”

  “Who? Tell me what?”

  “Becca sent out some men to find me over a year ago. She asked that I at least return to Galway in the event you returned from the New World. I agreed to remaining here through the fall or until you returned. Whichever came first.

  “Here? You’ve been here—”

  “Months. In that time, I have learned to love it here.” Evan stepped back and Quinn realized she no longer wore her clan’s tartan. “Lake—”

  “He is well and sends his regards. He understands that I am no longer a cuidich but a fighter in my own right.”

  A million unnamed emotions flooded through Quinn. “The you are… you have…”

  “Healed? Yes. Body and soul. Thanks to your friend, Bronwen, my spirit has finally healed, and I no longer suffer the bloodlust I held for the British.”

  Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “Bronwen? How on earth—”

  “She saved Lord Moynihan from dying from the poison and brought him here. The moment she saw me, she kenned I was a broken shell of a person, so she took me to the woods and helped me find my way again. She is an amazing woman… a wonderful healer…a great lady.”

  Quinn blinked at the soft tones Evan used when speaking of Bronwen. “Evan…are you…”

  “In love with Bronwen? Evan held up a hand. “I understand she is your dearest friend, Cap, but she did something I didn’t believe possible.”

  Quinn shook her head. “Wait. Hold on. Let me make sure I am understanding this ri—”

  “Nothing to understand, Cap. I’ve been waiting here to come get you. I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

  “Hear what? That you are in love with my oldest friend?”

  Even looked away. “I hoped you would understand. I mean…it’s been so long. I knew you had probably moved on.”

  Quinn glanced over her shoulder, her thoughts trailing back to Kaylish.

  Kaylish.

  The woman she now loved, whom she had given her heart to. The woman who had just gotten in the face of a woman twice her girth. “Evan, so much has happened since… since…”

  “Since I was raped. You can say the words, Cap. It was a very long time before I could say the words, but Bronwen explained that keeping them in was like swallowing my shame over and over again, making it worse.”

  “Evan, I—”

  “Please let me finish, Cap. I lost myself after that… awashed in blood… thinking if I killed enough of them for what they did to me it would make me feel better. It did not. I would have kept killing, thinking that eventually, I would feel better. Not until Becca sent men looking for me did I consider how off my path I was.” Evan brushed Quinn’s bangs from her forehead. “Then Becca took me to Bronwen, who was coming for Lord Moynihan. He was nearly ready to leave when I arrived. I fell in love with her watching her care for that old man. Such kindness. Such wisdom. He and I… we spent many nights around the fire talking. Politics, religion, even women’s rights. He is a very forward-thinking man who loves his family.”

  “His family is dead.”

  “Not his granddaughter. Not you. He has so much faith in you. He thinks so highly of you. He loves you, Cap. So do I.” Evan took both of Quinn’s hands. “Robert believes him dead and has taken over all of the Moynihan properties.”

  “What? That’s—”

  “Robert has told everyone Gallagher is also dead. The property, by right of marriage, goes to him.”

  “And Lord Moynihan wants them back.”

  She nodded. “He has been waiting for your return. He kens you’ll be able to take his castle back from Robert and finish him fer good.”

  Quinn stepped closer. “Finish him? We’re gonna need a small army to get in that castle now and will have to deal with English wrath if the governor finds out it was us.”

  “We have that small army, Cap. Lake and our people are scattered about the woods waiting for your return.”

  “Mine? But—”

  Evan held her hand up. “They are tired, the Galloglaighs. Scotland and the rest of you will fall. We are looking for a place to belong, where we can live out the rest of our lives in peace.”

  “Peace? But you’re warriors.”

  Evan smiled, and for the first time, looked like her old self. “Aye. That we are. And if a certain pirate ship or two wants to whisk us to lands exotic after this is over, we’re in. But
there’s no winning here, Cap. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

  Quinn blew out a breath. “So unless we storm the castle, Gallagher will inherit nothing of her mother’s?”

  “It’s not about that, Cap. It’s about that bastard who is living in Lord Moynihan’s home. The Laird believes in you so verra much. You’ll break the man’s heart if—”

  “I’m in, Evan. You do not need to convince me to help Lord Moynihan. I just—”

  Evan wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, so verra much.” Pulling away, Evan put her forehead against Quinn’s. “He will be so happy to see you both.”

  “Both. Wait. I can’t bring Gallagher to the castle.”

  “Doona need to. Leave her with Bronwen. Get her once we secure the castle.”

  Quinn thought for a moment, then nodded. “I had always intended on coming home and killing Robert before he could kill me”

  “Alone?”

  Quinn nodded. “He’s English. If the English governor ever suspected an Irishman killed him, there would be hell to pay. No one is paying that hell but me.”

  Evan nodded. “Understood. I am certain you will find a way to dispose of Robert without enna one suspectin’ who did it.”

  Quinn nodded. “As long as my crew is kept out of this—”

  “Out of what?” came a voice from behind Quinn.

  Turning, she saw Becca standing there. “Never mind, Becca. It’s best you not know.”

  “Oh really?” Becca jammed her hands on her hips. “I thought we were better friends than that. You see, as much as I don’t want you to know, I still came out here to tell you that your new lover left.”

  Quinn whirled around. “Left? What do you mean left? Where did she go?”

  Becca shrugged. “She came out here to get you. I came after her to tell her to give you a moment and she saw… well… what she saw was very intimate.” Becca sighed. “At least, it appears that way to me.”

  Quinn turned back to Evan. Back to Becca, then to Evan once more. “She thinks… oh my god… she must believe…” Quinn shook her head. “Which way did she go?”

  “I have no idea. She grabbed a horse and took off running.”