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The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3)

Page 22

by Celeste Barclay


  “God, I hope so. If Dónal has her, who knows how he’s treating her. He may be her brother, but I will kill him if I find another bruise on her,” Kyle pledged.

  “What is it that’s between you two? Why does she matter when no other woman has? You fight most of the time.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to say it. You and I share the same tastes in how we enjoy women. We learned the same things in the same places as Rowan and Ruairí. We were taught how to be dominant, and it appealed to each of us after so many years of being forced into submission by one captain after another. It gave us power we hadn’t had before. The women who taught us were prostitutes and did what brought them coin, but all four of us knew what type of whorehouses we frequented in Naples and the Greek Isles,” Kyle reminded Keith.

  “And Moira?” Keith prompted.

  “She’s the opposite of us. She’s been controlled and dominated by Dónal, even Lizzie, for so long that she is exhausted from having to guard herself. She’d shouldered the duties of chatelaine since she was barely more than a girl. But all she’s received in return for her service is her siblings’ condemnation. I can’t imagine how that feels. We’ve never been anything but best friends.” Kyle paused as he remembered Moira the first time he spanked her, and the connection neither of them understood. “She’s happy to relinquish control to me. She knows I will never intentionally harm her, even when there’s pain involved. She knows I’ll protect her—though I’ve done a shite job of it.”

  “I told you before. This isn’t your fault,” Keith said adamantly.

  “Whether it is or it isn’t, I’m not there to protect her, and I told her I would. I told her I wanted to take care of her, not just for pleasure, but take care of all her needs. I’ve never imagined such a notion toward a woman, but I do. It’s not that I want to control everything she does or thinks, though I’ve certainly given her reason to think I do. It’s that I want her to know that someone values her, wants her. And in return, they care enough to support her.” Kyle stunned himself by articulating what he’d kept private, even from Keith.

  “Do you love her?” Keith asked.

  “I’m certain I could. I think I’m falling in love with her.” Kyle nudged his brother’s knee with his own. “My need for her differs from the one I feel toward you, but it’s just as strong.”

  Kyle waited for his brother’s hurt or angry retort. He waited for a chasm to form between them. But his words met silence, and it tore at his heart. No one had ever come between them, and he prayed he hadn’t just put Moira there. He wanted her beside him, not against Keith. He nearly fell over when he heard his twin’s reply.

  “I hope to find that too someday,” Keith whispered.

  “You don’t begrudge me?”

  “Never. You’re my brother, my twin. I have never not wanted the best for you. If she makes you happy, if she’s what you need, then I wish you my best. But do you think she returns your feelings? Or is it just physical? I’ve heard how women respond to you. Seen it too,” Keith chuckled.

  “I thought it might be the same, but now I have no way to know. She may never forgive me for what I’ve done to her life. Who could blame her?”

  “So do you think it would only be the coupling that would bring her back?” Keith wondered.

  Kyle snorted. “I’m good, but I don’t know that anyone is good enough for a sound tupping to make up for what she’s endured.”

  “Then you’ll know. If she wants to come back to the Lady Charity, to stay with you rather than go to Ruairí and Senga, then it’s because she cares about you.”

  “Do you think she could love me?” Kyle’s apprehension made his lungs hurt as he held his breath.

  “Undoubtedly,” Keith chortled. “What’s not to love?”

  A key grinding in the lock cut the twins’ conversation short. Two matching faces turned expectantly to the door, waiting to see what would come next. They both prayed it wasn’t the gallows.

  Moira looked at the dressmaker who cowered in the corner, Snake Eye hovering over her. Stephen stood guard outside, and Tomas stood just within the doorway. Moira had asked if any of the men had coin on them, so she could buy a gown. The men argued this was more efficient.

  “Snake Eye, you must let her come and help me. None of these were cut for me, so she’ll need to pin them. I’m too thin for the ones she has. Unless, of course, you want me dressed like a girl with my calves bare.”

  Snake Eye’s glare told her he didn’t find her suggestion amusing. Moira was certain Snake Eye feared for his life if Moira showed up before Kyle with her legs bare, just as she had when she strutted across the Lady Charity’s top deck. Learning Kyle was imprisoned made Moira think twice about storming to wherever he was held. As she and the men hurried away from The Leg of Mutton, Moira thought about what she needed to do if they were to free Kyle and Keith. Men from the Lady Grace had caught up to them and relayed what they’d seen when Kyle and Keith attempted to fight their way free.

  “Snake Eye,” Moira warned with more authority. With a scowl etched so deeply that Moira feared it would become permanent, he allowed the seamstress past. Moira stepped behind the partition and held up a gown she thought would be the easiest for the woman to fit to her. The poor woman’s hands shook so badly that Moira feared she would become a pincushion. Easing the shears from the seamstress’s grip, Moira made quick work of cutting down the bodice and the skirts. When both women agreed it was the right length and size, Moira slipped out of it, and they sat together. “Snake Eye, Tomas, I’m helping the seamstress sew up the gown. It’ll be faster if I work with her, but you must be patient.”

  Moira ignored the grumbles and offered the terrified woman an encouraging smile. Neither woman spoke, preferring to focus on their tasks. Moira wished to be dressed as soon as she could, and Moira was certain the dressmaker wanted them out of her shop as soon as she could. With the gown sewn well enough to keep it from falling apart around Moira, the dressmaker quickly shoved undergarments at Moira, then fastened the laces to the gown. Moira looked down at herself and brushed out the skirts. Her mouth twisted back and forth before she stepped from behind the screen.

  “I’m not sure that I want to go back to gowns after the freedom of leggings,” Moira mused before she jutted her chin at Tomas. “Pay, and pay well. Don’t be stingy.” Moira watched as Tomas huffed but pulled a heavy pouch of coins from his belt. He handed it to the woman who said nothing but scarpered past a curtain and into her private quarters.

  “That was a pretty penny this gown cost us,” Tomas complained.

  “And between paying her well and terrifying her, she will keep silent. As far as she knows, I’ve never been to Wicklow, let alone her shop,” Moira noted. “How much coin will it take to buy Kyle and Keith’s freedom?”

  Moira looked at the men who stood before her once they were out on the street. Stephen, Snake Eye, and Tomas shifted nervously. She waited for one to speak and narrowed one eye as her brow furrowed. When they still didn’t answer, she drew the blade she’d hidden in a secret pocket she stitched.

  “You may be bigger, and you may be stronger, but I promise you, you are not more determined,” Moira warned.

  “Lass, I mean Moira—err—Lady Moira,” Stephen stammered. It was the first time Moira had heard him speak. “There will be no way to buy their freedom. The magistrate will make them hang.”

  “The hell he will,” Moira snapped. “Every man—every man who works for the crown—has a price. We just don’t know this magistrate’s. Don’t be surprised if it isn’t coin.”

  “So you think you’re going to free the Red Drifter and the Scarlet Blade by wandering into the gaol and bribing the guard,” Snake Eye said doubtfully before crossing his arms. “We’ve always gotten the captains free when they’re being transported from gaol to the magistrate.”

  “And you were playing nursemaid to me and missed your opportunity,” Moira snapped before her eyes opened wide. “That is one of the most
ungracious things I’ve ever said. I’m sorry.”

  “You care for the capt’n,” Tomas stated.

  “I do. Saints and angels preserve me, and only the Devil can tell me why, but I do,” Moira admitted. “Hide me somewhere you know is safe, or take me back to the Lady Charity. But we need to find out who the magistrate’s mistress is and how many bastards he’s sired. If he has neither, find the man he’s buggering. Learn whether he has gambling debts. Ask around if he cares about anyone he doesn’t want to see go missing. Learn what you can. Like I said, his price might not be coin.”

  They’d moved behind the dressmaker’s shop, and the other Lady Charity crew members joined them. Five men stood staring at Moira as she rattled off her expectations. She snickered at their owlish expressions and loss for words. She shook her head before canting it to the side and giving them a disbelieving look.

  “My brother has dubious taste in allies and trade partners. Don’t you think I’ve heard him negotiate with the likes of Aidan and Ruairí? Do you think I could have pirates traipsing in and out of my keep without learning a few things a lady should never hear?” Moira grinned. “If I have to choose between Kyle and the justice of the peace’s children, don’t doubt for a moment who I will choose. If he has a man for his lover, I don’t care whose life we ruin. The man should have taken care to be more discreet. If it means Kyle is free, and we can all leave together, then I will do anything.”

  “We know a safe house,” Tomas spoke up, but Moira watched Snake Eye’s shocked expression.

  “We can’t take her there,” Snake Eye hissed. “The Drifter will murder us.”

  “Do you know of anywhere else that doesn’t mean taking her out on the docks to get her to the Charity?” Tomas argued. Snake Eye clearly disapproved, but he nodded his head. Moira watched the men and suspected where she was headed.

  “What’s the brothel called?” Moira asked, hoping her bluntness would ease the tension. Once more, five owlish faces turned toward her. “And by the by, is anyone watching the gaol right now?”

  “The Mother Hen,” Tomas answered. At Moira’s look of disgust and as she mouthed “mother,” the men chuckled. “And yes, one of our men and a handful of the Scarlet Blade’s are watching the gaol.

  “The Mother Hen,” Moira choked on a laugh, “is likely where you will learn everything you need about the magistrate.” The men didn’t disagree, but it was with great trepidation that the hardened sea criminals took the diminutive woman to the seediest brothel in Wicklow.

  Twenty-Nine

  Moira looked around her as she entered the brothel. The stench of unwashed bodies and intercourse permeated the air worse than any tavern Moira had ever entered. She looked around at women in varying stages of undress, most with their breasts hanging loose. For a moment, she felt a blazing streak of jealousy course through her as she wondered which women Kyle preferred. A beautiful woman with painted lips, snug bodice, and skirts hitched on either side approached, and Moira knew with certainty that she’d just found the woman Kyle sought most often. She was also clearly the proprietress of the establishment.

  “The Lady Charity come to dock in our harbor,” the woman cooed, but her eyes assessed Moira. “Brought us a little dove?”

  Tomas stepped in front of the woman and shook his head. “She’s with the capt’n.”

  Moira saw the disappointment, then anger, flash in the woman’s eyes before she masked her features. The men might not have understood, but Moira did. She’d seen the same look in Lizzie’s eyes early in her affair with Aidan, when Lizzie feared Aidan would return to Moira.

  Moira didn’t shift her gaze, locking eyes with the prostitute, unwavering in her dare. It was the other woman who looked away first, but Moira knew she was in more danger with that woman than she had been with Dónal or Dermot. There had been a chance, however small, that the men would not kill her, but she was certain the brothel owner wouldn’t think twice and call it an accident.

  “And where is our fair capt’n? Either of them?” The woman shifted her attention back to Tomas. “It’s so much more fun with both of them.”

  Moira knew the comment was for her sake, but she didn’t react. The woman’s eyes darted back to Moira, expecting to see shock or hurt. Once more Moira caught disappointment in the other woman’s eyes. She stood silently, knowing that if she spoke, they would learn nothing.

  “Daisy,” Tomas addressed the woman, and it nearly killed Moira not to laugh. The woman looked nothing like the fragile flower she was named for. And standing closer, Moira realized the brothel owner was far past the blush of youth. “The capt’n would be grateful if his lady could wait here while he’s being detained.”

  “Detained?” Daisy asked before looking speculatively at Moira. “Just how grateful?”

  When Tomas paused to consider his answer, Moira decided to break her vow of silence. She pushed forward and passed an assessing look over Daisy and then swept her eyes over the various undressed women.

  “Not nearly as grateful as I would be.” Moira raised an eyebrow, her suggestive comment shocking everyone around her. She would sell her soul to the devil if it got Kyle free. If it meant doing whatever the woman in front of her wanted—unless it was with another man—Moira cared little. She’d heard of men bedding two women, and Daisy had already said as much about the twins sharing her.

  “You might be more interesting than you look,” Daisy sneered.

  “And a far sight more experienced than I look,” Moira retorted, making Daisy’s eyebrows shoot up nearly to her hairline. Moira sensed the men shifted uncomfortably around her. She slipped past Tomas to stand before him. “Whether you wish for payment up front or after, I will compensate you in just the way you’re thinking if you answer my questions.”

  Moira’s stomach churned. She wasn’t attracted to the woman in the least, and she had no desire to touch her, but she would bed the woman if she had to. She would put on a show with one of the whores if she had to. She drew the line only at being with another man. She wouldn’t do that to Kyle, not unless it was his wish. As she stood watching Daisy, she realized that there were countless sexual acts and pleasures she would entertain now that she knew Kyle. Her only wish was to share them with him.

  Daisy nodded and turned to walk away. She shot Moira a coy smile over her shoulder, expecting Moira to follow her. Moira didn’t look anywhere but straight ahead. From the corner of her mouth, she whispered. “Don’t you dare move away from whatever door she takes me through.”

  Following Daisy down a passageway behind the stairs, Moira noticed two large men standing outside a door that Daisy unlocked. As Moira and the Lady Charity’s men approached, the two men stepped out to block their way. Moira narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

  “I don’t play unless they stand at the door. Kyle wouldn’t like it any other way,” Moira said. She registered Daisy’s shock, and Moira suspected the other woman had never heard Kyle’s given name. The intimacy it implied clearly rankled. Daisy sniffed but nodded. Moira followed her into a chamber with an enormous bed, which Moira attempted to ignore lest she get distracted imagining how many times Kyle had been in it.

  “We usually don’t make it here until at least the third time,” Daisy mused as she stood beside the bed. Moira didn’t react, keeping her visage neutral.

  “We prefer the bed. It allows for quite a lot of creativity,” Moira said nonchalantly. “I told you I would be most grateful if you told me what I would like to know. I suspect you are the most well-informed woman in this town. Answer my questions truthfully, and I will indulge you.”

  Daisy looked at her skeptically as she draped herself across the bed in what Moira assumed was an alluring position to men. Moira sat in a chair facing the bed and raised her skirts until she was certain Daisy had a clear view of her nether lips.

  “What do you wish to know?” Daisy’s voice had grown husky as she stared at Moira. It made Moira suspect Daisy’s enjoyment of women was sincere.

  �
�Does the magistrate come here?” Moira asked without preamble.

  “Sometimes,” Daisy answered without looking up. Moira trailed her fingers along the inside of her thigh.

  “I suspect your ladies offer services few other places do. What does he like?” Moira’s other hand pulled at her neckline, then slid one sleeve down over her shoulder.

  “He likes being spanked,” Daisy mumbled, more intent upon Moira’s hands as the one at her shoulder slipped beneath the neckline and massaged her own breast.

  “With what?” Moira asked and licked her lips.

  “A cane or a paddle,” Daisy said as she sat up and slid to the edge of the bed.

  “How often does he come?” Moira realized the double entendre and gave a throaty laugh. Daisy grinned before she stood from the bed.

  “Uh-uh. I haven’t learned enough. You may look, but you may not touch. Yet,” Moira said as she lifted her hand from her thigh and shook her finger. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “He shows up a few times a sennight, but he rarely does more than squeal like a pig,” Daisy clarified.

  “Does he have any bastards?”

  “Likely, but none off my girls,” Daisy stepped closer as Moira’s fingers brushed against her folds. Moira had touched herself enough times to know she could arouse herself, so finding dew accumulating was no surprise. She knew Daisy assumed it was because of her. Moira wasn’t about to correct her.

  “Do you only have lasses here?” Moira asked with a pointed look. Daisy froze, growing serious. She narrowed her eyes as she grew suspicious. “You like to have both captains. Perhaps you and the captains aren’t the only ones who like to have three people together. I’ve heard of things, though I’ve never seen it. Things between men. I doubt Kyle and his brother are interested in such, but others may be. Is the magistrate?”

 

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