In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) (9 page)

She crossed her arms, scoffed. “Of course, they would validate your story. As they are
your
men, I’d hardly expect different. That doesn’t make it truth.”

“What purpose would I have in lying to you?”

“Any number I should think. To gain my trust, to somehow turn me against my father.”

“I have no interest in turning you against your father. I tell you this because it’s fact and because I believe every child should know the truth about its parents.”

She caught the hurt in his tone but he was already moving past her. “There are guards everywhere. Please don’t waste anybody’s time trying to escape.”

He couldn’t simply walk away. She had more questions.

“Wait! I’ve heard stories of pirates, read many tales about them. They’re supposed to be filthy and crude and missing half their teeth. My father doesn’t dress that way and he has all his teeth.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” he tossed over his shoulder.

“How is it you know so much about pirates?”

He turned at the door, looked her in the eye. “Because I am one.”

*

“Well, that could
have gone worse,” Lucky muttered beneath the bloodied towel he held under his nose.

Aidan grunted, knuckled away some blood from the corner of his mouth and prayed the relentless throbbing in his knee would ease soon. The morning shift of guards and maids had arrived, along with the gardener, and subduing them had taken more time and men than Aidan had anticipated. There were bruises and blood all around, but the guards were tied up now, including Jacob who’d somehow overtaken Lucky and jumped Jacques from behind before Aidan and Chunk managed to wrestle him to the ground long enough to bind his hands and feet. Aidan grimaced at the sting caused by Jacob’s boot, wiped the blood on his pants. Between last night’s blow to his head and this morning’s scuffle, he had his share of aches and pains.

“The good news is according to the maid, Emma, all the staff has now been accounted for.”

“You trust her word on that, Cap’n?”

“I do, yes. She’s too frightened of us to lie and the hostility coming from the butler and Mrs. Bingham when she told us would have convinced me if I hadn’t already believed her.”

“She said Roche usually comes ashore with three or four men.”

Aidan cautiously stretched his legs out beneath the dining table, wincing when his knee protested. Roche’s guards were in the cellar, with Billy keeping vigil beside the locked door. Jack was watching the maids in the kitchen and he’d sent Chunk and Jacques along with the butler and gardener into the parlor with Sarah. Until Roche arrived, they could relax.

“We’ll be wise to expect more. Tonight, we’ll fetch most of our crew. I won’t chance Roche escaping again. When he arrives tomorrow, we will be more than ready. Then, after nightfall, we’ll surprise the rest of his men aboard the
Revenge
.”

“You’ll be taking her back, then?”

“The
Revenge
is mine.” To Aidan’s mind, she’d always been for him as he was always meant to be Sam Steele. Samantha had started the legend and he’d grown watching the ship and title pass from one member of his family to the other, watching and yearning for his turn. It wasn’t the original ship Samantha had had, she’d kept that one, renamed it the
Freedom
when she’d given up piracy. But this
Revenge
was an exact replica of the first and Aidan treasured it. It was his destiny, his legacy. Being Steele had been his goal for too many years and nobody was going to stand in his way of finally achieving it. He’d avenge his mother; Roche’s death was still paramount in Aidan’s mind. Then he’d sail as he’d always been meant to.

“It’s a good thing we’ll finish everything here, aye?” Chunk said. “Otherwise we all know what’d happen if we took the girl with us.”

“What would happen?” Lucky asked.

Chunk smiled. Blood smeared his teeth. “The Cap’n would follow all the other Steele’s before him and find himself in love before making port.”

Aidan choked. “Not likely.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“I am.” There wasn’t a hope in hell of him ever falling for his enemy’s daughter, making Chunk’s words easy to dismiss. “Now let’s focus on what’s real instead of imaginary. When we take the
Revenge
back, we aren’t going to fire cannons. I want the
Revenge
back but not at its very expense.”

“We’ll be careful, Cap’n. She won’t be the first ship we take in such a manner.”

Despite the sting it caused his split lip, Aidan smiled. “And if I have my way, it won’t be the last either.”

“I
s it true,
Simmons, what these men are saying? Is my father a pirate?”

The butler raked a scathing glare over the large man named Chunk before resuming his tidying. Apparently, being held hostage wasn’t enough to deter Simmons from his duties. Nor was it enough to stop Sarah from learning the truth.

“Simmons?”

He sighed as he fussed with the candlesticks over the hearth. “Pay these heathens no mind, Miss Sarah. By their own admission, they are nothing but a sorry lot of miscreant pirates.”

“I’m not speaking of them; I’m speaking of my father. Is he what they say he is?”

He patted her on the head, smiled thinly, and continued with his work.

Sarah narrowed her eyes. This was exactly the reason she’d been plotting to escape. Her opinion was never considered, her wants never given more attention than that of a nattering mosquito buzzing about one’s ears. She’d taken such treatment for years but, hostage or not, she wasn’t going to tolerate being ignored or placated any longer.

She grabbed his arm. “Simmons, you will answer me.”

He looked down his pointy nose at her. “I have, miss.”

“No, you have not, as well you know. I realize for years I’ve let you, the entire staff, and my father treat me as though I was nothing more than a fragile flower needing careful tending but I assure you those days are gone. I will not be silent and I will not be ignored.”

“And I have my orders,” he answered stiffly.

Sarah’s mouth gaped open. “He’s ordered you not to tell me the truth?” Knowing she’d learn no more from Simmons she turned to the gardener; he’d always been kinder to her. “Henry?”

Henry twisted his hat between his large, working-man hands. “I’m not at liberty to say, miss. It’s a condition of my employment.”

A cold, uneasy feeling crept up Sarah’s spine. “Is your position the only thing you stand to lose if you disobey my father?”

Henry’s eyes darted to Simmons’. The butler didn’t blink as he met Henry’s worried gaze but he didn’t have to. The fear was rolling off Henry in waves. And, in a moment of clarity, Sarah remembered seeing a similar expression on Sophia’s face when she’d worried Roche would learn of their wine drinking and conversation, of her tryst with Jacob. In fact, now that she looked back upon it, she remembered her father’s visits were always accompanied by nervousness from the staff. Sarah had attributed it to simply having their overseer in their midst. Of course they’d be more careful around their employer. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if the real reason wasn’t more sinister.

“You haven’t broken any vows, Henry,” Sarah hastened to reassure. “When I speak with my father I’ll be sure to tell him the truth did not come from you.” Not that he would listen or care, apparently, as even the help had more of his trust than she did.

Cutting her gaze from Henry to Simmons, she jeered, “You’ve both been very well trained. Your master would be proud.” Then, with anger simmering in her veins, she spun for the doorway.

The big man lunged to his feet and his sheer bulk blocked most of the frame. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I need to speak with your captain.”

He was easily twice her size and humor filled his eyes as he looked to his fellow crewman before looking down upon her. He raised a brow as if to ask how she planned to get past him. And, oh, that look only fueled her temper more. She’d had more than enough of being looked down upon to last a lifetime.

She fisted her hands on her hips, jutted her chin and commanded, “Get out of my way, you lumbering brute.”

His barrel of a chest shook with laughter. “And if I don’t?”

“I’d like the answer to that as well,” Aidan said from behind Chunk’s back.

Grinning, Chunk moved aside and resumed his seat on the sofa next to a man named Jacques.

“I’m curious to know how you planned on getting around Chunk.” Aidan wasn’t grinning, but humor danced in his eyes and again she caught herself affected by his handsomeness. However, it wasn’t his good looks she was after.

She ignored the twitch of his lips and her body’s response to it. In defense, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I would have found a way but seeing as you’re here I won’t have to. I need to speak with you. Privately.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes and I think it’s the least you owe me.”

“I owe you?” He guffawed. “How’s that?”

“You’re holding me prisoner in my own home.”

He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his booted feet. “Your highness, from everything I’ve seen, you were already a prisoner. Only difference is I’m being honest about it.”

The truth stung but it wasn’t a shock. If he wanted to reduce her to a pile of simpering tears he’d have to do better. “A word, if you please. Sir,” she added with the same respect he’d used when calling her “your highness”. Two could play the game of calling each other ill-suited names.

This time he did grin and, with it, his face changed. Humor sparkled like gold in his brown eyes. The laugh lines around his eyes and mouth suited him more than the sterner expression he’d worn since barging into her home. He looked younger, freer. And so handsome Sarah had to will her mind back to what she’d asked for.

“Surely, you don’t have too many other pressing matters since my father isn’t expected until tomorrow.”

At the mention of her father his smile withered. “Chunk, you and Jacques take these people into the kitchen and keep an eye on them. It seems I have an appointment.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” He rose to his impressive height and pointed a thick finger. “You two, to the kitchen.”

Henry looked relieved but Simmons adopted the same haughty expression he always wore when having to deal with Aidan and his men. “It will be my sincere pleasure to watch Mr. Santiago knock the swagger from you sorry lot,” Simmons mocked as, head held proudly, he marched from the room.

“Is he always so friendly and agreeable?” Aidan asked, closing the doors behind Chunk.

“The rose bushes have fewer thorns than he does,” she said.

His hands stilled on the handle and he peered at her over his shoulder.

“You’re surprised?” she asked.

“Not of your description, as I’ve seen those very thorns myself, but of your tone. You don’t like him.”

“I’ve tolerated him up until now.”

“Ah, and that’s changed, has it?”

While Aidan made himself comfortable on one of the other high-backed chairs in the room, Sarah was too anxious to sit.

“He knows the truth and he refuses to tell me.” She curled her hands into fists. “He patted me on the head as though I was nothing more than a child.” She spun from the window. “I’ve a right to know the truth.”

“You do, yes.”

“That doesn’t mean I believe everything you are saying. But there is more than I’ve always been told.”

He settled deeper into the brocade chair, rested a booted foot on his knee. “I have not lied to you, nor will I. However, I cannot make you believe. You will have to come to terms with the truth on your own.”

“I’ve known my father the whole of my life and while he hasn’t always made me happy neither has he hurt me.” Other than that one slap, which had only happened once she hastened to remind herself. “I don’t know you, or anything about you.”

“Yet you’re looking to me for answers.”

“I’m looking to you for your version.”

“My version?”

She crossed her arms. “As I said, I don’t know you; therefore, I’m not simply going to take your word as truth.”

“Yet you want to hear it? Why, if you’re not likely to believe it?”

Her arms fell to her sides. “I suspect some truth in what you have already said. There is fear amongst the staff toward my father. Not with Simmons, but the rest. And Henry said he couldn’t tell me anything, that it was a condition of his employment. Yet it wasn’t his position he seemed afraid of losing. And if my father were simply a merchant sailor, why would he forbid the staff from discussing it?”

“Why indeed?”

Feeling less agitated now that she’d spoken her doubts aloud, Sarah took her seat in her father’s chair, which angled toward the one Aidan had chosen. Her throat was dry but she had no intention of calling Simmons or anyone else to bring her some water. She had a feeling what Aidan was about to say would be much more uncomfortable, at any rate, than a parched mouth.

“You say my father is a pirate.”

“A well-known fact.”

“And you’re a pirate as well?”

“I am.”

“Have you sailed with him?”

“No. Nor would I. There is a code amongst most pirates. Some are more ruthless than others, to be sure, but it’s the treasure we’re after. When I could, when others I sailed with could, we were as merciful as possible. We preferred to win by cunning and outwitting our foe.”