Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance (16 page)

Aidan began talking the moment Steele’s feet landed on deck. Despite the flurry of men racing about seeing to their tasks and calling out warnings as the mainsail was untied and raised, Steele gave his first mate his undivided attention.

“Guns are ready, as are extra rounds. Every musket, pistol, and blunderbuss has been gathered. I was waiting for you before going below to get my quiver.” He handed Steele the looking glass.

“Wait.” Steele grabbed his arm. “We’ve a minute and I need to talk to Grace.”

Surprisingly she didn’t protest. Lifting her skirts, she snaked her way through his harried crew and made her way to the hatch. He beat her there, grabbed the handle before she could and followed her into his cabin. The sounds from above dimmed, but the fast pace of the steps thumping overhead reminded him this wasn’t a leisurely talk and he had to hurry.

“No matter what happens you must—”

“I’ve need of a weapon.”

Steele’s words shriveled on his tongue. “You what?”

“I want a weapon. A musket or a pistol, an axe, I don’t care, but if there’s to be a battle, the knife you gave me won’t be enough.”

He shook his head. “Grace, if you stay below you’ll be fine. I’ve a crew to fight and you need to take care of your child.”

Her eyes shot daggers. “Roche had himself a crew as well and look what happened, I ended up here.”

It was as though she’d slapped him. He took a step back. “You would have preferred I left you there?”

“Of course not. ’Twas a miracle you coming along when you did and I’m thankful for it. Me point is, this time I want to be master of me own fate. What if something happens to your crew? Or to you? What do you think would happen to me if another pirate found me?”

Nothing he wanted to consider.

“I’ll tell you. They’d rape me, maybe one, maybe more. And do you think they’ll show me mercy? Even if I tell them about the babe?”

No, no they would not.

Though pride stiffened her spine, her eyes filled with fear. “I’ve been raped. It’s not an experience I’m after repeating. If they come at me, I want a choice. Them or me, I don’t care. But I’ll have a choice in the matter.”

Her words struck him hard, left him feeling queasy. He grabbed the back of a chair. “You’d take your life, and that of your child?”

“Not without any other hope.” She splayed her hands over her flat belly. “If I were to live through their abuse, do you think they’d be merciful to my child? Even if they allowed it to be born, do you think they’d treat it the way a child is meant to be treated?

“I’m not asking to be part of the battle. I’ll remain in your cabin. I give you me word. I only ask to able to protect meself.”

He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her, but she was right. He didn’t consider himself a saint, but he knew for certainty if any other pirate—and most privateers—found her unprotected, they wouldn’t hesitate to claim her. The image propelled him.

He dug through his chest and pulled out a blunderbuss. Confirming it was loaded it he crossed back to Grace.

“Have you ever shot a weapon?”

“Me da taught me to use a rifle.” And she remembered she hadn’t liked holding the weapon, nor the idea of killing.

“This isn’t so very different.” He put the gun in her hand, stood behind her and helped her aim. It was a testament to the dire circumstances that his mind didn’t linger over the fact it was the second time today she’d been pressed up against him. “You’ve only one shot and I don’t have time to teach you to reload, so fire carefully.” He came around. “Where’s the knife?”

“Under the pillow.”

“Keep it at hand.” Then, knowing he couldn’t spare more time, he headed for the ladder.

“Steele?”

He turned, faced her. And was completely disarmed. His shirt fell off her right shoulder, making her look small and vulnerable. The blunderbuss not only looked big and heavy in her delicate hand, it looked wrong. She was going to be a mother, for the love of God. She shouldn’t be wielding a weapon.

“I swear to you, I’ll keep you safe.” He vowed.

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself as well in the process.”

She couldn’t have known the last woman who’d told him to be careful was Catherine. Neither could she have known the effects of those words. They hit him like a cannonball, cracked the wall he’d built around his heart.

Reeling from the impact, he scrambled to rebuild the barrier. If she knew him,
really
knew him, and what he’d done, she wouldn’t care what happened to him. It was simply a matter of him being the lesser of two evils. Hadn’t she already said the likelihood of another pirate being merciful toward her was nonexistent? She only wanted him safe because his safety ensured hers.

It was a perfectly good rationalization and it made perfect sense.

It made him want to hit something.

*

“She’s three-masted but
too far out to see what colors she’s flying.”

Steele didn’t care what colors the other ship was sailing under. It had yet to change heading and continued its direct path for the
Revenge
.

Three masts, a minimum of twenty-four guns, with as many as forty, ranging in size from twelve to twenty-four pounds. Either way, it more than doubled what his sloop had. But he’d come away victorious from numerous battles with larger ships. Outgunned didn’t always mean outmaneuvered. He’d learned over the years to use the
Revenge
’s strengths to his advantage. She was small, but she was fast.

He simply had to forget Grace was on board and concentrate on what needed to be done. The problem lay in the fact that every time he believed he had, she slipped back into his thoughts. She had to be scared. He hated to leave her alone but he couldn’t spare a man to stay with her. Aidan had brought her Carracks, but the bloody bird wouldn’t be much in the way of protection.

He’d made her a promise though, and by God he intended to keep it. He held out his hand and Aidan placed the looking glass into it. Through the tube he saw the boy was right. Three masts. He peered closer. He’d bet what was in his hold it was a frigate. They were definitely outgunned.

A scattering of clouds plodded through the sky. The breeze had kicked up, not significantly and surely not enough to account for the chill creeping up his spine. Snapping the glass closed, he tucked it into its perch.

“On your orders, Captain.”

When Aidan had returned with his quiver over his back, he’d had his cutlass strapped to his waist and a musket and bow in his hand. Steele didn’t have to look to realize the remainder of his crew was as ready. The silence on deck told him what he needed to know.

Steele glanced from port side and the soaring outcropping of rock bulging from the sea to the ship approaching on his starboard side. Calculating distance and angle, he tightened his grip on the wheel. Not yet. Just a little bit longer…

Looking over the wheel, past the flapping sails and out over the rippling waters, he saw what he’d hoped to. And his mind was clear of all but the task at hand.

“Ready about!” he yelled. As his crew knew of his plan and were prepared, they called back, “Ready.”

“Come about!” Steele ordered as, hand over hand, he cranked the wheel, directing the
Revenge
directly into the wind. Since he’d shifted the rudder quickly, his crew had to man the lines just as fast. The main sheet was released. Men untied the jib from the port side, ducked down and raced to retie on the starboard side. The main sheet was secured again as Steele evened out the rudder. The maneuver took little time and within minutes Steele was on his new course.

With one hand holding the wheel, he pulled out the looking glass with the other. As he’d hoped the other ship also made adjustments.

“Looks like it worked, Captain.”

“For now. The key is to have them believing we’re running away, and thinking they can block our path on the other side of the island.”

Aidan smiled. “They’re in for a nasty surprise.”

Steele nodded but didn’t take his eye off the other ship. His plan depended on it going around the island as though to intercept the
Revenge
. If, however, they followed him, he was ready for that as well. He couldn’t go into battle with only one plan. Still, he’d rather his original one.

With each snap of the sail, the
Revenge
glided closer to the jut out of rock. As an island, it could never be inhabited. There were no sandy beaches, only stone faces reaching for the sky. Luckily those faces were tall enough to hide his mast. And his plan.

His bowsprit began inching past the island. Steele kept his heading but never broke contact with the other ship. Keep going, he urged silently, keep going. The other ship made an adjustment and seemed to pick up speed. He could see it clearer now along with the dozens of men moving about the deck. He didn’t bother looking for her colors; it mattered little. She was coming at him for one reason and it wasn’t a friendly one.

His attention was still on the frigate when the
Revenge
slipped completely behind the shield of rock and into the shade.

“Captain, wait.” Aidan grabbed his forearm. “I think I know that ship.”

Steele leveled his gaze. “Unless you know for certain the ship is friendly, we proceed.”

Aidan held his stare, but not for long. He removed his hand, ran it across the back of his neck. “I can’t, not for sure. But it looks familiar. And yes,” he added when Steele opened his mouth to argue, “I know we can’t risk everything on that.”

No, Steele thought looking at Aidan’s retreating back as his first mate headed down the stairs to the deck, we certainly can’t.

“Ready about!” he yelled and the same procedure was repeated in reverse. Fast feet and faster hands loosened lines, shifted sails, and retied the sheets. The
Revenge
sailed easily through the motions and soon was heading back in the direction from which it had come.

Steele tightened his hold on the wheel as they came out from behind the rock. For a moment the sun and its glaring beams off the water blinded him. He turned his head, squinted. Then cupping a hand over his eyes, he hunted for what he sought.

There it was, the stern of the frigate going around the other side. Knowing his quarry hadn’t yet seen him, Steele called to his crew. “Now.” Every piece of canvas was raised. The
Revenge
skipped through the waves and leapt toward its prey.

His shirt clung to his back. His heart beat loudly in his ears. They were gaining. Once he curved around the approaching edge of rock they’d be right behind the frigate.

“Raise the colors,” he shouted.

If there was one code Steele adhered to it was not to fire his first shot until his colors were raised and his intent clear. With his skull and crossbones flying, the
Revenge
made the turn. They were close, barely the length of two galleons away. And the frigate saw them. Shouts and curses rang over the waters but it couldn’t turn in time. While a frigate could maneuver well despite its size, the
Revenge
was already upon it.

“Fire the warning.” The front starboard swivel gun blasted, lobbing over the frigate’s gunwale and into the clear sea. The resounding splash was the only notice Steele planned on giving.

Unfortunately, the frigate also had swivel guns, and they fired from their quarterdeck. The shot screamed from the stern of the other ship and ripped through the
Revenge
’s jib and exploded through part of its gunwale. His ship dipped and swayed as the blast rang in Steele’s ears and the smell of powder poured down his throat.

His crew dove for safety. Someone didn’t get away in time. His scream resonated along the cannon blast. Jaw clenched, Steele saw Smoky drag Pockets away. Blood smeared the deck. Cold fury filled Steele’s veins. He wasn’t going to let the same happen to more of his men. Or worse, Grace.

Eyes locked on his target, Steele eased the wheel to starboard.

“Captain!” Aidan yelled.

Steele couldn’t see his first mate through the lingering smoke, but as he’d only heard one man scream, assumed Aidan was fine. “Prepare to fire!” he yelled.

“Captain, wait!” Aidan ran through the veil of smoke, arms waving. “I know that ship. It’s the
Oxford
, Morgan’s ship.”

Steele didn’t give a damn whose ship it was. The
Revenge
was ready to broadside. “It’s shooting at us; now get to your station. Fire!” he hollered and the
Revenge
’s cannons roared in answer.

It was as though a hurricane came through. The blasts shuddered through the ship. The vibrations shimmied up Steele’s legs. He couldn’t hear anything but the weapons firing. Couldn’t see anything but smoke and pieces of debris flying. He blocked out everything else, including his worry for Grace. If a shot made it through the hull into his cabin…

He wouldn’t let it happen. Feet braced wide, Steele prepared to call another round. Through the smoke he caught movement at the gunwale and his heart came to a careening stop. What the hell was the Aidan doing? He was standing on the gunwale, precariously holding onto the lines with one hand and waving a white flag with the other. Steele’s knees shook. The boy wasn’t armed, was in plain view, and had at least two dozen muskets pointed at his head.