Lady Pirate (36 page)

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Authors: Lynsay Sands

BOOK: Lady Pirate
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They had pretended to attempt to outrun the pirates now crossing the water eagerly toward them, then appeared to surrender reluctantly when it was obvious that they could not. Pulling the English flag down, they had replaced it with a white shirt, the best they could do for the colorless flag that was the traditional signal of surrender. In response, the other boat had fired one single cannon off the starboard bow as a warning not to try to flee, then laid anchor a safe distance away, just far enough not to have to worry about the two swinging around in a current or stiff breeze and hitting each other. Then the pirates had lowered the small boat, filled it to overflowing with men, and begun to make their way across to mount the
Valor
and claim her as their own. They left some of their crew aboard
their own ship, of course, with the cannons trained on the
Valor
as an obvious threat.

Still, they thought the
Valor
a simple merchant ship, carrying goods, perhaps a dozen or so men, and few if any weapons. They were in for a surprise. And at that moment, Valoree was experiencing the same mounting tension and tingling expectation she had always enjoyed when climbing silently up the sides of the craft they had taken themselves. Anticipating the battle ahead, she thrilled at the danger. She felt incredibly alive as she always had. Yet this time, she felt almost an equal amount of terror as well. That was new. Always before she had felt only a burning sort of rage, a desperate desire for revenge, a longing to find herself facing the scarred Spanish bastard who had killed her brother, and a complete lack of concern with death. Now, however, she knew with a certainty that she would never again be Back-from-the-Dead Red—and never could be.

Now the possibility of death was like a cloud inside her head, numbing the part of her brain she needed most and making her hand tremble slightly with the fear of it. She wanted to live. She wanted to spend her life with Daniel, to see her babe born, to watch it grow. And she knew instinctively that her fear was what could get her killed.

“Aye, I should have locked you in the cabin. A woman has no place amid this men's work. And this plan is madness, pure and simple. It will never work. I was a fool to listen to a woman and her hare-brained schemes. Here I was letting you act as captain out of pity and—”

“Pity!” Valoree turned on him in amazement as his words finally sank through her fear and she realized what he had been saying. She couldn't believe the words had spouted from his mouth. After all his proclamations of love and admiration, after finding her
so
intelligent! Now the truth was out. Eyes narrowing to glowing orbs of rage, Valoree put her nose to his and said in a hiss, “You'd best be saving some of that pity for yourself, husband, for after we take care of these bastards. Then I'll be turning my attention to you, and you can count yourself lucky if ye ain't hanged from the crow's nest after all.”

Then she turned away to move toward the other women, pausing after only a step to whirl back. “And ye'd best not mess your part up, sirrah, or I'll cut your tongue out and feed it to the fish ere I have ye hanged.”

Unfortunately, unlike her men, who were now watching the exchange warily, Daniel didn't look a bit cowed by her threat. He merely grinned and gave her a wink, which served only to infuriate her further. Hand clenching around the cutlass she held hidden in the folds of her skirt, she turned her attention to the other men and said in a snarl, “Look lively; they're boarding. You know what to do.”

The men turned to see that she was right. The ropes that had been lowered over the side of the boat were moving slightly and creaking under the weight of the men climbing them. Her crew immediately began to take their positions, and Valoree turned away to stomp over to the other women. Eleni was one of them. She and Petey had more than resolved their differences in the Thurbourne kitchen over who was in charge—they had married just two weeks before setting out for Ainseley. Meg was there, too. Though John had begged her to stay and live with him at Beecham, Meg had feared causing him problems. Instead, she claimed she preferred the idea of a nice little cottage at Ainsley. “Close to Henry and his roses would be nice,” she had told Valoree in confidence.

The rest of the women were the wives or the soon-to-be wives of other crew members—except for Helen, the sweet, dark-haired girl who had taken up the role
of lady's maid to Valoree. She was the only single young woman on board. Still, the way One-Eye kept trying to charm her made Valoree think that the girl wouldn't be unwed for long. Eleni, Meg, and Helen were the only females who were keeping a brave face on. The others were all shaking in their skirts, a couple even giving in to terrified sobs. The ruckus rubbed Valoree's already raw nerves.

“Quit yer sniveling,” she snapped. “Ye'll just be drawing attention to yerselves that way.”

That seemed to scare the sobs right out of them, she saw with some satisfaction. Turning herself slightly so that her sword hand was hidden between herself and the group she stood in front of made her advanced stage of pregnancy more obvious, and that was fine, too. It made her appear harmless.

“You men ready back there, One-Eye?” she said in a hiss.

“Aye, Cap'n,” came the soft answer.

“Good. On my signal.”

“Aye.”

 

“Nice work,” Henry muttered, moving to Daniel's side once Valoree was out of earshot. When he simply raised an innocent eyebrow at the remark, the older man said, “She was losing her nerve. You gave it back to her by making her too mad to remember to be afraid.”

Daniel shrugged. Right at that moment, he didn't know if he had done the right thing. He had seen the fear, had known it wasn't normal for her and therefore was not something she could easily overcome, and had instinctively done what he'd needed to do. But now he almost thought he should have left her afraid. He would rather she stayed out of the fray with the other women. That was something he knew she wasn't likely to do now that her fear was under control again.

“Never seen her like that before,” Henry admitted. “Guess ye're softening her up some. A good thing, I think.”

Daniel looked skeptical. “What? Not sorry to see the end to Captain Back-from the-Dead Red?”

Henry considered that seriously for a moment, then sighed. “She sure was something to see. No fear. All rage. Taking on any and all comers, and that anger was her finest weapon. Her lack of fear scared the hell out of any man with the sense to want to live.”

At Daniel's expression, he continued. “More often than not that attitude convinced them of the wisdom of surrendering. Not every time, mind ye. She proved her worth with a sword, too—more times than I care to remember. And she showed us that all those years of us men training her weren't for naught. But she was lucky. We all were. That luck couldn't hold out forever. Jeremy's death proved that. Nay.” He shook his head. “We're best out of this business. Jeremy would want her out of it.”

Daniel was silent for a moment, then said softly. “I am surprised that he allowed her to be trained with the sword.”

Now it was Henry's turn to look skeptical. “Considering the life we led, it would have been more surprising had he not.”

Daniel murmured in reluctant agreement, then stiffened as the first of the pirates clambered over the side of the ship.

There were twenty in all, and every one of them was armed to the teeth. Compared to them, the twelve men of the
Valor
in evidence besides Daniel and Henry looked almost respectable. And that, he realized suddenly, had most likely been Valoree's intent. These men were the ones still possessing all their limbs and bodily parts. Not a patch, a peg leg, or a missing nose among them. They were also wearing simple breeches
and shirts with one weapon each, generally a cutlass. They had no special leather vests or belts bristling with blades or pistols.

Brilliant, he congratulated her silently as the pirate captain came over the side last. That, he thought, was telling. The man was a coward. Daniel had heard very little about Valoree's days of high-seas robbery—by his own choice, for while Valoree was quiet on the subject, the men had been eager to regale him with tales of their daring. But after learning that she always led the attack and was the first over the side of the ship, he had shied off hearing more. Perhaps when he was in his dotage, and already gray, he would be better equipped to handle hearing how she had put herself in danger. But now his poor heart could not bear it.

At that moment, however, he felt a thrill of pride at the fact that, captain or not—and having that choice—still she had always led the attack. This man did not have that courage, and while that lowered him in Daniel's estimation, it also made Daniel extremely wary. There was nothing more dangerous, in his opinion, than a coward. One never knew what lengths they would go to to save their own skin.

These thoughts running through his head, he watched grimly as the pirate captain slowly perused the ship, taking in each man, then the women, before settling on Daniel and Henry. He moved toward them at once, a supercilious smile on his face as he took in Daniel's matching maroon velvet waistcoat and the silly beribboned knee breeches Valoree had insisted he wear. She had said it would make him look more fey and less threatening. Daniel tried not to grimace as the man's gaze then dropped to the pink hose she had also insisted he wear. He had recognized them at once as part of the livery the men had sported while they paraded as her house servants, but had donned them
without argument, knowing there was a purpose behind her every order.

Promising himself he would wipe that smirk off the man's face at the first opportunity, he began to wave the hankie she had pressed into his hand, in what he hoped would appear a nervous fashion. Then he pressed it to his upper lip and tried to look as small and “fey” as a six-foot man with broad shoulders could as the fellow paused before him.

“Ye'd be the captain of this here vessel,” the fellow decided, addressing Henry with a barely discernible Spanish accent.

“Aye,” the quartermaster calmly lied.

The fellow accepted that readily, then nodded in Daniel's general direction without bothering to look at him. “Owner?”

“Aye,” Henry said again. “And ye are?”

There was a tense moment of silence; then he smiled. It wasn't a very pleasant smile. “Have your men drop their weapons.”

Henry hesitated, then gestured with his hand, and there was a brief symphony of clumps and clangs as the men dropped their pistols and cutlasses.

The pirate captain made a similar gesture, and several of his men began to move around, collecting the dropped arsenal. Once that was done, he turned back to Henry. “What are you carrying?”

“Linen, taffeta, silver, iron, and a bit of gold, but not much,” Henry said—exactly what Valoree had told him to report as their cargo. Furniture and food might have just angered the fellow and gotten someone shot before they were ready for fighting. Claiming too much of value might have made him suspicious, however.

The pirate seemed satisfied with the list. He merely nodded, then held out a hand, palm up. “
Your
weapon.”

 

Valoree watched silently as Henry pulled out the flintlock pistol she'd had him put in the top of his pants. He handed it over slowly, laying it in the man's palm before reaching to remove his cutlass. It was while he was distracted with the second task that the pirate captain struck. She saw him swing the gun at Henry and stiffened, but before she could utter a word, an alarmed cry from Meg pierced her ear. It was too late for Henry to avoid the blow, however, and he went down like a stone beneath it. He fell unconscious to the deck.

Meg immediately tried to rush past her then, no doubt to help Henry, but Valoree grabbed her arm and held her back, stepping in front of her when the pirate captain peered curiously toward them. Their gazes met briefly, and she found her chin rising despite her best efforts to appear frightened. Then he broke the glance and turned to address his now unarmed captives.

“I am Captain Álvarez of the
Bastardo
. This is my ship now. And you will now have your choice: a slow death or a fast one. Those men who cooperate and help us transfer the cargo will die quickly and as painlessly as possible. Those who do not, but ask questions, or are too slow to follow orders”—he glanced down and kicked the unconscious Henry viciously, then smiled pleasantly as he finished—“will be sport for my men. That means keel-hauling, eating your own tongues, things of that nature,” he explained in a bored tone, then shrugged. “I would offer some of you the opportunity to join my crew, but I have just taken on several from another ship, and so need no more men.”

“Now, Captain?”

Valoree heard One-Eye's hissed words. He sounded furious. Of course. But then, all the men would be outraged. It was one thing to kill a man, quite another to torture him to death. And really, offering to kill him quickly if he sweated to help the people who were
about to kill him was just a touch too damned evil. This Á lvarez needed to learn a lesson.

“Nay,” she whispered back. “Wait.”

Á lvarez turned toward her again, and she at first thought he had heard her admonishment to One-Eye, but when she took in his expression, she decided he hadn't; he was just now turning his interest to the women.

“You ladies, of course…” he said as he walked toward where they were grouped together midship. “You shall not die…right away.” He smiled at Valoree, who was in front, as if he had just done them the greatest of favors; then his gaze dropped to her stomach. He grimaced. “We shall have to dispose of that.”

She saw the rage flash over Daniel's face and knew her own no doubt mirrored it, but merely turned her head away from Á lvarez, avoiding his eyes to glance over the position of the various men aboard her ship, then toward the Spanish vessel and the sea between. The small dinghy they had used to bring the first load of cutthroats over was halfway between the ships, heading back for reinforcements.

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