The entire crew shifted toward Beck like a school of carnivorous fish, their eyes narrowing. “And who the devil are you?” Captain John asked, his voice as strong as a hurricane wind.
“Beck Macquarie of Wolf Isle.”
Captain John’s gaze slanted back to Eliza. “Friend or foe?”
“He’s my lover, so I suppose that would make him a friend,” Eliza said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“What?” The word bellowed out from a large, dark-skinned man, his hands shaking the bars with such force that dust fell from the mortar holding them in place.
“Our little girl is…tupping?” another yelled.
“Lover?” a smallish man with tattoos etched along his arms roared. “You will be cut from your nose to your ballocks.” A round of ayes followed.
“You worm-riddled bilge drinker!”
“Blistering cur of a Scot! We will slice you all over and lower you overboard to draw sharks to chomp you to bits.”
“Hang him by his randy jack and feed him his own ballocks!”
Beck’s hand instinctively slid to the hilt of his sword. An extension of his arm, the blade could slice through one man but not forty.
Eliza’s words rose above their tumbling threats. “Captain John said I could choose, and I chose Beck Macquarie! There will be no stringing him up, or slicing him open, or spitting on him.”
“Is he a rough bastard?” the small man asked.
“Any good?”
“Treats you with respect and—”
Eliza held up her hand. “Aye, all of that. Beck is a most attentive, talented lover who makes me scream out in passion over and over through the night,” she yelled over their continual mumbling and conjecture. She pointed to the men. “In fact, you all might need to be doing some of what he does to me to your ladies at port. They will welcome you back with open arms if you do.”
Behind Beck came the sound of someone clearing his throat. He slowly pulled in a long inhale as he turned to see Adam, Tor, and Captain Wentworth. Mo chreach, he would never live this down.
“I take it this is your Captain John,” Adam said, his face caught between concern and humor.
“Aye,” Eliza said, her gaze going to Captain Wentworth. “He rescued me, and they have protected me for ten years. That certainly deserves a pardon for whatever crime you believe he has committed.”
Wentworth frowned, crossing his arms. “He tried to commandeer my ship.”
Eliza snapped around to frown at Captain John and the whole crew. “Take his ship? You were going after Jandeau. I am sure he was flying the English flag.”
Captain John looked over her head. “You and the children were off ship so I could take some chances. Jandeau has forty guns. To sink him requires two ships.”
“I am hunting Jandeau too,” Wentworth said, his face hard. “If you had discussed your plans with me instead of pulling alongside, firing, and then swinging across because you are actually pirates, you might not be on your way to the gallows.”
“And you would have jumped in to help us,” the smaller man said, throwing in a graphic curse.
Wentworth stepped over to the bars to stare accusingly at Captain John. “You never even sought to help Elizabeth find her way home to England. If you were a man of honor, you would have taken her safely ashore instead of keeping her with”—his eyes moved to the men behind the captain—“these strangers. For abducting a member of the English royal family, and for shooting holes in an English ship, which required extensive patching, you are charged and will hang.”
“No,” Eliza said.
Beck stood next to her. “Certainly, there can be some clemency, given the misunderstanding,” he said.
Wentworth stared directly at Captain John behind the bars. “Would there have been clemency for my men if you and your murdering crew had taken the advantage?”
No one said a word, for anything that would have hinted at the pirates’ mercy would have been easily seen as a lie. Wentworth stared with unblinking conviction while the rough crew glared back.
The silence stretched until Tor broke it. “Let us go back upstairs and discuss the details of these events over a meal. Then we can make plans.” He met Captain John’s gaze. “And a meal for all will be brought below as well. Tempers flare when bellies are not properly filled.”
Eliza grasped Captain John’s hand with both of hers through the bars. The man pulled her closer and bent to her ear, his lips moving quickly, and Eliza leaned in as if she wished to stay. The twisting between Beck’s ribs tightened, and he came forward.
“I know it is he,” John whispered to her.
Eliza stared directly at her Captain John, and her eyes widened, her mouth going slack as if what he said tore a hole through her. Beck stepped closer. “Eliza?”
“’Tis a private conversation, Scot,” the small, tattooed pirate said.
Eliza kept silent, letting Beck gently pull her from the pirate captain’s hand to lead her from the dank dungeon.
Eliza looked over her shoulder at the man who had been her father these past ten years. Damn. What would happen to her when they were all hanged?
Chapter Thirteen
I saw the boy I’d been told about on Jandeau’s ship in the West Indies, so I’ve been tracking him north. He looks like you.
Peter? Her baby brother was alive! How could that be? When her parents had been slaughtered before her, she’d lost track of her brother, lost him as she hid her face in her knees, doubled over in anguish and her need to vomit. She’d been rushed to Jandeau’s quarters where her immediate response was to hide after seeing what the rough men had done to her mother. She hadn’t dared to ask anything, not even about the fate of her baby brother.
I abandoned Peter. All the shame from ten years ago washed down through her, opening wounds partly healed. But the scars bled fresh until she felt weak with bloodletting, leaning against Beck’s sturdy arm as they rose from the darkness of the dungeon.
That was why Captain John had been so adamant that they follow Jandeau north again, insisting she and the children stay on the isle of Eilean Mòr while he confronted her most hated enemy.
I did not intend to tell you until I had won him. Captain John had squeezed her hand, whispering quickly. Use this knowledge with Wentworth to free us. He will want a male heir. I know it is he.
Beck stopped under the archway that opened into the cavernous stone-enclosed great hall in Aros Castle. Inside, Adam and Tor talked with Thomas Wentworth, her uncle.
“Eliza, are ye well?” Beck asked.
No. Not if her brother had been tortured and kept prisoner for ten years while she lived the life of freedom. “I… I do not know yet,” she whispered and met his gaze. His eyes searched hers. My brother is alive. She opened her mouth for the words to roll out, but they stalled on her tongue, full of bitterness and shame. “I need to ask Captain John more questions.”
“About what?”
She blinked, taking a full breath. “He thinks Jandeau…the bastard might have something of mine.”
“What?”
She shook her head, unwilling to say the words yet. “I need to talk to him more.”
Beck took her arm. “Let us all get some food first. Then I’ll take ye back down.”
She kept her spot, resisting his pull. “Alone. I need to talk to him alone.”
Confusion made the lines of his forehead deepen. “Aye then.”
Did he think she would try to free her crew? Of course she would if there were a key anywhere about. Where would they go anyway? Apparently, the Devil’s Blood had been crippled.
“Eliza,” Beck said, his face serious, “for Wentworth to manage to capture and transport your captain and crew here, he has a battalion of Englishmen bent on bringing them to London. A battalion that obviously knows what they are doing if they detained a group o
f men who look very capable of resisting arrest.”
She raised her eyes to the stone ceiling and exhaled in a huff. “I know.”
He squeezed her hand. “We will try to reason with Wentworth, but if they have gone against the English crown, he will likely not listen. With a new king, he will be trying to impress him, and bringing in a ship of pirates would do that.”
Her gaze snapped to him with her frustration. “You’re telling me nothing I don’t already know.”
Use this information to free us. How the hell was she going to do that?
Beck nodded. “Then let us eat and figure out what to do.” He spoke as if they were in this together, but they weren’t.
Eliza barely tasted the venison served. Cecilia had left, which was fortunate for her since Eliza was feeling very much like punching someone. With each bite of the seasoned meat, she wondered if her brother had been made to live on the scraps left by Jandeau’s men. She felt Wentworth’s gaze on her but ignored him until he addressed her directly.
“Elizabeth, I would like to bring you back to England, so that you can see your family home.”
She looked up at him. “The one you took when my parents were murdered?”
His mouth tightened. “I inherited it as there were no male descendants.”
“How fortunate for you,” she said. She sounded like a surly cur, but the man was planning to hang her family. That allowed her to be as ugly as she wanted.
Wentworth did not eat much either, but he drank plenty. “I have not lived in the house for some time, and very infrequently at that. I never married, choosing instead to dedicate myself to the sea and the duty of capturing pirates who prey on innocents like my brother and his family.”
He folded his hands on the table. “Now that I know you are alive, Elizabeth, you are of course welcome to live at Wentworth House. It will be yours upon my death, as well as the annual income of fifteen thousand pounds.”
It seemed everyone at the table stopped moving for a moment as their gazes fell on her. “I am your heir?” she asked. Lord, Captain John could start a fleet of children-saving ships with that much money, but not if he were dead.
“I had no children. Despite you being female, I can bequeath you the estate and monies from it. As soon as I return to London, I will have my solicitor write the contracts. You can live in luxury.”
“I forfeit my rights to all of that if you release Captain John and his crew,” she said.
“That is impossible,” Wentworth said, frowning.
She met his gaze without blinking. “I expect that nothing is impossible when commanded by someone of your rank.”
“I am not above the rank of king or regent, and both have recently requested that I return to London immediately to help secure the young king’s throne against any enemies. The only reason I am still in Scotland is because Captain Pritchert told me you were alive.”
Faces all along the table volleyed between Eliza and Wentworth.
Use the boy to gain our freedom. The words that she must speak did not want to come, not before all these people, not before Beck. He thought her brave and strong, yet she had been so frightened and weak before that she had not even asked what had happened to her brother.
“What if we helped ye trap Jandeau?” Beck asked. “He is currently in these waters.”
“We do not know that for certain,” Wentworth said, scratching his chin. “He may have sailed south after you confronted him.”
Let Captain John know that he will not want to sink me until he’s seen what I have to offer. Eliza’s stomach twisted hard. Jandeau spoke of a treasure, one she might want to trade herself for. Her heart hammered in her chest. He wanted to trade Peter for her. A shiver slid up Eliza’s spine.
“He hasn’t left the area,” Eliza said, her words coming out from numb lips. She shook her head. “Jandeau has business with Captain John, something he said he wanted to trade.”
“Your Captain John does work with the French pirate,” Wentworth said, accusation in his voice.
“Nay,” Beck said, although he continued to look at Eliza, his brows bent in concern. “It was quite obvious that Jandeau is at odds with the captain of the Devil’s Blood when we met up with him.”
Beck finally looked away from her toward Wentworth. “Ye could use Captain John to get close to Jandeau.”
“Aye,” Adam said, his face deadly. “Use the captain to get close to Jandeau, and then we take him.”
Wentworth seemed to consider it, his gaze going to Eliza and then back to Beck. “I have been requested to return to London immediately.”
“We could hunt Jandeau today,” Beck said.
“We are due to go to Islay,” Meg said from her place down on the end near her mother. “For Camilla’s wedding tomorrow. Rose won’t let Cullen go out to sea for at least three days while the festivities are underway.”
A Scotsman came up into the great hall from the corridor leading to the dungeon. He had an empty tray in his hand. Across from Eliza, Adam straightened in his seat, his fist resting on the table as the man came close.
“Shite,” Beck murmured next to her as if the sight of the man irritated him.
“Pardon, Chief Maclean,” the man said. He had a handsome face, and his eyes darted from Adam to Beck and then to Tor.
“Aye, Liam?”
“The prisoner, John, asks to speak with Eliza Wentworth. He says alone, outside the dungeon.”
Eliza stood before anyone said anything. “Aye.”
“And Captain Wentworth,” Liam said. He fidgeted like he wasn’t sure if he should run from the room or stay. Did Tor Maclean treat his attendants so poorly?
Wentworth stood, as did Beck, who seemed determined to stay close to her. “Bring him up,” Eliza said, but Liam looked to Tor.
Tor nodded, tossing him the key. He motioned to several other Maclean warriors to go with him. “They can speak in the chapel,” Ava said, pointing down another corridor. “We’ve recently designated a small room for any visiting clergy to use while here.”
“Thank ye,” Beck said, leading Eliza out of the room, Wentworth following them along with Tor Maclean.
The room was small with chairs set in two rows with a table up front, a cross sitting upon it with a goblet. “Ye will have privacy in here,” Tor said.
“But we will be just outside,” Beck added, a frown over his features as they waited.
Liam escorted Captain John inside the room, the stench of waste and sweat on him. Lord, how he must hate that, being as fastidious as she was normally. Otherwise, her father looked strong and stern as usual. As soon as he walked in, she broke away from Beck, striding to John. His hands were bound with a thick rope, and she hugged around his arms. She felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.
“You are certain?” she whispered against him.
“Aye.” He glanced around the crowded room. “We must speak alone.”
Beck stood behind her. “I will be right outside the door.”
The door shut and silence followed. Wentworth met John’s eyes. “What do you wish to talk with me about?”
John stood straight and strong. “Jandeau has something we both want, and if you free me and my crew, I will help you get it.”
“I have been called back to London and will have to hunt Jandeau later.”
John shook his head. “He has your heir. Don’t miss this chance to claim him.”
Wentworth’s eyes drifted to Eliza and back to John. “What are you saying?” Wentworth demanded, his face tightening with anger.
“Jandeau has Peter Wentworth, your brother’s son,” John said.
Wentworth’s arms fell to his sides. “How is that even possible?” He looked between them as if they were playing some cruel joke.
Eliza’s lips parted. “I… I did not know.”
John’s voice overrode hers. “I keep an eye on Jandeau’s whereabouts to see if he’s taken on more human cargo. While we were visiting the West Indies, my friend Claire said Jandeau had been in asking the whereabouts of a woman who had something of his. Before we left, I went to see her. She was an older woman who was quite upset. Ten years ago, on the first day of the new year, Jandeau had come to port with a toddling boy named Peter.”
Eliza held her breath. The first day of the new year would have been a week after the Christmas when Captain John saved her from the Bourreau.
“Jandeau gave the boy into her keeping, something pirates do if they feel they cannot sell a child until they are older and less difficult to care for. Over the years, the woman came to love the boy like her own and hoped that Jandeau would not return for him. But he did, about two months ago.”
With his hands tied before him, Captain John walked up the short aisle to the altar. “I knew Eliza’s brother’s name was Peter, and I knew that I had rescued her as a girl on Christmas Day, a week before Peter was taken to the woman.”
Eliza cleared her dry throat. “When I was convincing Jandeau not to attack Beck’s ship, Jandeau said he had something that I would want…something I would even trade myself for.”
I will not remain in these waters for long. A week or two perhaps. Bloody damn! How long had it already been?
John’s bearded jaw moved left to right. “There will be no trading. Jandeau is a demon who must be cleansed from this earth. We will take the boy back and kill Jandeau.”
Eliza fought to pull in a breath, her hands curling. “He said he would only stay in the North Atlantic for a week or two.” She looked to Wentworth. “We must act now.”
“It could be some other child,” Wentworth said and looked directly at Eliza. “Was your young brother not killed with your parents?”
“I…” Eliza’s breath caught in her chest with the weight of her shame. “I lost track of him. I did not see him.” Because she had her face smashed into her skirts, wishing to die before the men tore her clothes from her too.
“Jandeau did not tell you Peter was dead?” Wentworth asked.
The Highlander's Pirate Lass (Brothers of Wolf Isle) Page 15