Raider of the Deep

by Vale, Jennae

Once Lizette was settled, Rourke took her hand. “We’ll get Daniel. I’ll take ye back to the mansion.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “My men will visit the taverns in town. Men are more willing to talk when their tongues have been loosened by a good amount of whisky.”

  “We should go through Papa’s papers.”

  “I know ye dinna wish to believe yer father was a thief, but we must leave no stone unturned.”

  “I know, but he kept his business dealings a secret. He didn’t wish to burden me with them.”

  It’s not the only secret he’s been keeping, he thought as he gazed at the beauty seated beside him. “Your father was a good man, Lizette, but even good men can be tempted with the thought of great wealth. We’ll see what we can find in his papers.”

  He was impressed by her. She’d been through a terrible ordeal, yet she bravely was doing what she must to save her brother when under normal circumstances, she should be grieving for her father.

  Hawes and Jamie pulled the skiff up onto the beach. Rourke helped Lizette from the skiff and then held her hand as they trudged through the sand to the road that would take them to the governor’s mansion. Once on more solid ground, she removed her hand from his. He found he’d enjoyed the feel of her soft hand in his, and hoped there would be an occasion when he could hold it again.

  “Thank you, I’m fine now.” She straightened her dress, and glancing down at her feet, began walking.

  The rutted road wasn’t much better than the sandy beach. Rourke kept his hand at the ready in case he needed to save her from turning an ankle or falling, but she was sure-footed and needed no help from him. Jamie and Hawes kept a respectful distance behind them. Rourke knew that Hawes would be listening for any threats that may approach, taking great care to scan the trees and brush along the roadside for a possible ambush, which Rourke was sure would never come. Hawes liked to believe he was protecting his captain, and Rourke wasn’t about to take that privilege away from him.

  As they approached the house, all was quiet. Guyton greeted them at the door.

  “Did you do as I asked?” The last thing Rourke wanted was for Lizette to see her father as he was when she’d left the house with Pargo.

  “Yes, sir.” Guyton moved to the side to let them pass.

  “Miss Lizette, I am so sorry.” A woman, Rourke hadn’t seen when he was there earlier, hurried to Lizette.

  “Thank you, Maria.”

  “Where is young Daniel?”

  “I thought it best to leave him with a…” she hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at Rourke, “friend.”

  “He’ll be back in a few days,” Rourke assured her.

  “Mr. Mackall and his friends will be staying with us.”

  Guyton nodded. “I’ll get the rooms ready for them.”

  “Thank you. Maria, would you prepare supper for us?”

  “Happily, Miss.”

  Lizette stood perfectly still. Rourke could see something was bothering her.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She swiped at her eyes. “We must bury Papa.”

  Her pain was evident. He wanted more than anything to comfort her. To pull her into his arms and tell her all would be well. To act on that urge would be a mistake. It would not be what she wanted, so he held back.

  “Miss.” The softness in Jamie’s voice was not something Rourke had ever heard before. The lad handed her a kerchief from his pocket.

  “Thank you.” She took it and dabbed at her eyes before gathering herself and heading to the back of the house.

  Rourke, Hawes, and Jamie followed her out the back door and into the gardens. She walked to a spot where a bench sat beneath a tree.

  “Papa loved to sit here in the shade. It was his favorite spot. I’d like to lay him to rest here.”

  She stood with her back to them. Head in her hands, her shoulders began to shake, and Rourke knew she was finally releasing the sadness and grief she’d been holding since her father’s murder. His resistance broke and he turned her around, pulling her into his chest and holding her. She didn’t put up a fight, instead, allowing him to whisper softly that he understood and would help her in any way he could. Rourke indicated with his head that Hawes and Jamie should leave them.

  He hoped they’d be off to find help digging the grave. Once they were out of sight, he guided her to the bench where they sat. Lizette still held the kerchief Jamie had given her, using it to dry her tears. A gust of wind tousled the curls that framed her face. Rourke had to admit that despite her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she was the fairest lass he’d ever set eyes upon.

  “A storm is on the horizon,” Lizette noted. “How long before it arrives?”

  “We have time.” Or at least he hoped they did.

  Dark clouds off in the distance signaled rain. The only question remaining was if it would be a tropical cyclone or something less destructive. Rourke had almost lost his ship the previous year to just such a storm and it worried him that The Dagger might be in harm’s way. He would move it to the leeward cove on the other side of the island as soon as he possibly could, but for now, Lizette and Daniel were foremost in his mind.

  Lizette found comfort in Rourke’s embrace. His strong, sinewy arms and hard chest sent unbidden sensations through her. A mix of emotions overcame her, the strongest of them being guilt. Her father had only been dead a short while, and yet, her thoughts were for this man she’d only just met.

  She placed a hand to his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart pulsing into her own body. She needed distance. She must regain her composure. There was no time for the way she was feeling. The way her body was rebelling. The way she wanted more of him than just his comfort. Perhaps he sensed her conflict, because he released her and stood. She gazed up into a face that seemed as torn as she felt. His grey eyes were set off by the darkness of his hair that brushed the collar of his black shirt.

  Her gaze traveled the length of him, fascinated by what she saw. Lizette didn’t think of herself as an inexperienced lass, but in reality, she was. The only men who’d come calling for her were nothing like Rourke. They were all polish and shine and not nearly as interesting. She’d sent them all on their way, never giving a second thought to them once they were gone. She didn’t think that would be the case with Rourke. She couldn’t stop thinking of him, and he stood right there within arm’s length.

  “Have you never married, Lizette?” he asked.

  “Please, call me Lizzie.” She realized she was smiling at him for the first time since they’d met. There was an intimacy in the moments they’d just shared. No awkwardness surrounded them, but still a grieving daughter had other things to concern herself with. “Papa needed me. He encouraged me to marry, but the men who called weren’t interested in staying here on Manta Cay, and I couldn’t leave.”

  “You say you couldn’t leave, or was it perhaps that you wouldn’t leave?”

  He seemed to understand her so well. “Wouldn’t, yes, that’s right. As I said, Papa needed me and so did Daniel. I could never leave them.”

  “Spoken like a good daughter and sister.”

  She shrugged this off. At the moment, she felt like neither. “And what of you? Do you have a wife?”

  “The life I lead leaves no time for a wife,” he answered.

  She wondered if there were other women in his life, even though she knew there must be. A handsome man like Rourke would have no trouble finding female companions, which she found didn’t sit well with her. “Why did you become a pirate? Was it for the riches?” It occurred to her that she sat beside a real life pirate and she wasn’t afraid. On the contrary, she felt quite at ease.

  “Not for the riches, although they are a fine boon.” He adjusted himself on the bench, placing an arm across the length of the back and behind her. “It was adventure I craved.”

  “You’ve found that, I’m sure.” She nestled herself further onto the bench, resting against
his arm and enjoying the tingly feeling that ran across her shoulders where she touched him.

  His lips curved into a tantalizing smile. “I have. That and more.”

  What did he mean, she wondered?

  Hawes and Jamie returned, each carrying a spade.

  “We’ll start the digging,” Hawes said, wiping his brow on his sleeve.

  “Right there, if you don’t mind.” Lizzie pointed out the spot she’d chosen beneath the tree.

  “Aye, Miss.” Hawes bobbed his head to her and elbowed Jamie to do the same.

  “Thank you. I’ll have Maria bring you something to drink. It’s terribly hot today.”

  Rourke rose, and tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, led her back to the house.

  “We’ll need a coffin.”

  “Guyton has already arranged for one. It will be delivered in the morning, and Maria will prepare the body for burial. Word has been sent into town for those who wish to pay their respects.”

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  She had a hard time thinking of him as a pirate. He was such a gentleman in every way. Nothing like the men in the tales she’d heard from her father. She was drawn to him, but knew he wouldn’t be staying. He’d sail away as soon as they found Pargo’s treasure, and she’d never see him again.

  Chapter Five

  The following morning, a group of townsfolk gathered along with Rourke, Lizzie, and members of the household staff to lay Governor William Wickham to rest. The minister conducting the services was more likely to be seen staggering to and from Red Legs Tavern than seeing to the spiritual needs of the island inhabitants. As a matter of fact, Rourke wasn’t sure he’d ever even been a clergyman. He mumbled a few incoherent words and then hung his head in a silence that lasted far longer than necessary. The man appeared to be asleep on his feet. Rourke nodded to Hawes who unceremoniously kicked the man in the arse.

  The minister’s head popped up as his mouth fell open. His glazed eyes fluttered wide and he glanced around, seeming unsure of his surroundings. Rourke had enough and shoved the man out of the way.

  “Governor William Wickham was a friend and a good man who will be missed. This island will no’ be the same without him.” He scanned those present and noted many were nodding in agreement. “I’m not saying he was perfect. None of us are.” He wasn’t comfortable giving this eulogy. “Does anyone else have something they’d like to say?” He waited another moment. “Then we will lay the man in the ground. May God rest his soul.”

  The men lowered the body into the ground, and then began the work of covering it.

  Lizzie looked to him with gratitude. “Please join us inside for refreshments,” she said, addressing the others.

  Rourke escorted her inside. “I wish things had gone better.” He sent a hardened look toward the minister.

  “Papa would have thought it amusing,” Lizzie said. “He loved all the people of the island, even those like Minister Smith, who would be frowned upon by the ruling class in London. He often told me that these people,” she motioned with her hand to those now enjoying food and drink, “were his people, no matter their lot in life.”

  Rourke smiled. It was true, and one of the reasons he counted William Wickham a friend. “This gives me an idea, Lizzie.”

  Her complete attention was on him.

  “I’ve something to say to ye.” He spoke loudly in his captain’s voice. “Ye are all aware the governor was murdered. I would like to find the person or persons responsible. If any of ye know anything, or if you hear something, please come to me. No one else need ken we’ve spoken.” He searched the faces of the mourners, not expecting to see much in their expressions. His hope was that by finding the murderer they would also find Pargo’s treasure.

  “I wish Daniel had been here,” Lizzie said.

  “We will have him back home soon,” he promised. “I will see to it.”

  “Pargo is a dangerous man.” She was afraid for Rourke.

  “Do not fool yerself, lass. I am, as well.”

  He appeared to think she might run away screaming in fear, but she wouldn’t. She stood her ground. She understood who he was and that others might fear him. Lizzie saw beyond that though. “I understand you are thought to be a bad man. I don’t believe it to be true.”

  “I’m a pirate, capable of murderous deeds.”

  “Are you trying to convince me?”

  “I wish ye to know me for who I am.”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Now, we’ve work to do.” He left her side, making his way around the room.

  Lizzie watched him greet the ladies present. They fawned over him, touching his arm, his chest. Their gazes roving over his body, lingering on his broad chest, flat stomach, and muscular thighs visible in tawny breeches. She was embarrassed that she found herself doing the same. She fanned her face with her hand and hoped no one noticed her heated cheeks.

  “Warm?” asked Hawes with a chuckle.

  “A little,” she answered, turning her attention to Hawes.

  “He’s a good man,” he said, nodding his head toward Rourke. “He’d have me head if he heard me say it.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word.”

  “I’m sorry about yer da.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Cap’n will find the man that did it. Ye can count on it.”

  “I’ve no doubt he will.”

  Jamie joined them with a mouth full of cake. Lizzie had been overwhelmed with sadness, but the sight of him lightened her mood enough to bring a smile to her face. “Are you enjoying that?”

  The lad nodded, unable to speak. He swallowed hard before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “There be no cake on The Dagger.”

  Hawes guffawed. “That be true.”

  Lizzie found Jamie’s smile contagious. “How long have you been with your captain?” she asked.

  “Two years, Miss.” He examined his fingers, and finding some gooey cake remains, shoved them into his mouth one at a time.

  “Is he good to you?” Lizzie’s curiosity about Rourke was getting the better of her. Knowing how he handled his cabin boy would tell her a lot about him.

  “Aye. He treats me as his own.”

  Lizzie tipped her head. “You mean he’s like a father to you.”

  Jamie twisted his face into a comical frown and then turned to Hawes.

  “He is lad. Not many would put up with ye the way he does.”

  Jamie accepted Hawes words by dipping his head to the side and raising one shoulder in a half shrug. “When will we go back to The Dagger?”

  “Soon. A storm’s been on the horizon since yesterday. Cap’n will want to moor the boat on the leeward side of the island.”

  Lizzie had been so occupied with her father’s death, she hadn’t thought about how devastating a tropical storm could be to the ships in Manta Cay’s harbor. Worry etched her brow.

  “Are ye well, lass? Shall I get Cap’n Mackall?”

  “Yes, please, Hawes.” What would happen to Daniel when the storm landed? She had no idea where he was. Was he on a boat in the harbor? Was he on land somewhere? Her hands began to shake as a flood of anxiety ran through her body.

  Rourke was at her side and guiding her from the room before she realized what was happening. “Hawes tells me ye need me. Ye look ill. Perhaps ye should lie down.”

  “I’m worried about the storm and about Daniel.”

  “We’ve still got time. Why don’t ye rest? I’ll search your father’s papers. With luck, I’ll find something that will help us locate the treasure.”

  Lizzie started up the stairs. “I’ll help you,” she insisted.

  “There’s no need. I can handle it on my own.” They stopped outside of her room. Rourke opened the door for her and then turned toward her father’s study.

  Lizzie reached out and grabbed his arm. “I’m coming with you.”

  Rourke could see he wasn’t going to win this battle. He was trying to protec
t her, but perhaps it was best for her to see what her father was about.

  “As ye wish,” he conceded. He opened the study door and was happy to find that Guyton had removed the bloodstained carpet from the floor.

  Lizzie entered the room and stopped just inside the door. He watched closely as she scanned the room, her gaze resting on the spot where she’d found her father. “The rug is gone,” she noted.

  “Are ye sure ye want to do this?” he asked.

  “I am.” She shifted her focus to Rourke.

  A series of emotions played across her face, and as he watched, one by one, they disappeared. The woman standing before him held her head high and marched toward the desk with purpose and confidence. Once again, he was taken with how brave she’d been through this entire ordeal.

  Lizzie sat in her father’s chair and began by gathering up a pile of papers and handing them to Rourke. She then got to work on a pile of her own. Neither one spoke, instead focusing all of their attention on the task at hand. Rourke knew how important it was to find something that could lead them to the treasure and the murderer. Daniel’s life depended on it.

  Each ship in the harbor was represented in the form of a manifest documenting the cargo, passengers, and crew. It was clear that in an effort to keep the English crown in the dark, Governor Wickham had doctored the manifests. Ships names had been changed and the cargo they carried was turned into the types of things a merchant ship would carry. He collected a tax from each ship that entered the harbor, but Rourke knew from what he was seeing that William was being less than honest about the totals he gave the crown.

  He glanced up to find Lizzie seeing exactly the same in the papers she had gone through and neatly piled in front of her.

  “I can’t believe it,” she muttered. “He was stealing from the crown.”

  “We all suspected he was holding onto at least part of the harbor tax he collected.”

  “Do you think he really had something to do with the theft of Pargo’s treasure?” she asked. Her eyebrows were knitted together as she stared down at the pile of papers.

  “It’s possible.” Rourke didn’t know the answers, but he decided he wasn’t going to try to paint a rosy picture for her. She wouldn’t want that.