The Pirate Lord (27 page)

“A
nother story, tell us another story!” the children chanted as they sat around Sara on the beach.

Two days had passed since she’d agreed to marry Gideon—two glorious, blissful days. The children had noticed her mood, of course. How could they not, when she wore a silly grin all the time and wandered about as if in a dream? That was why they’d been able to convince her today to skip their lessons in favor of stories. And she didn’t even care. At the moment she was so happy, she’d gladly give tea and crumpets to the devil if he asked her nicely for them.

Ann, however, was more practical-minded than she for once. She clucked her tongue at the children. “Now there, lads and lasses, she’s already told you three stories. Surely that’s enough for now.”

“I don’t mind—” Sara began.

A deep male voice interrupted her. “I’ll tell the children a story, if they’d like.”

Sara turned to find Gideon standing behind her, looking more content and carefree than she’d ever seen him. He strolled up to her, a mischievous smile on his tanned face. The wind ruffled his raven-black hair, blowing it around his cheeks and softening the usually hard lines of his jaw. When he winked at her, she couldn’t help but smile. Why, sometimes the man seemed like a little boy himself.

“I’m sure they’d love to hear a story from you, Gideon,” she said. “Wouldn’t you, children?”

There was an awful silence behind her. She glanced back at the children who were regarding Gideon with a mixture of awe and fear. He had shown little interest in the children until now, probably because he was so busy supervising the rebuilding of the island. As a result, they knew little about him except that he and his men had captured them and their mothers.

If the children had been older, they might not have been so intimidated by him. But they were, after all, very young. The eldest boy was only six and the eldest girl merely nine.

Ann broke the uncomfortable silence with a sniff. “Don’t be shy now. I
know
you little ones would enjoy a story from the captain. Surely you’re tired of hearin’ me and Miss Willis all the time, ain’t you?”

Under Ann’s stern gaze, the children began to nod one at a time, though with more fear than enthusiasm.

Gideon squatted down beside Sara, his manner easy as he flashed the children a smile. “Look here, all of you. I know you’ve heard some fearsome things about me. And I’ll not lie to you. Some of them are true. I
have
stolen a jewel or two in my day, and I’ve fought many a battle, mostly in defense of my country.”

The children stared at him wide-eyed. He went on, pitching his voice above the surf. “But a lot of what you
think about me isn’t true at all. The ship is named the
Satyr
, not the
Satan
.” He gave them a wicked grin. “And while I may resemble him in some respect, I am
not
the devil.” Tilting his head down, he parted his hair with both hands. “Look close. Do you see any horns hiding in this hair of mine?” He sat back on the sand and removed one of his boots, then held up a bare foot and wiggled his toes. “What about hooves? Do you see any hooves? I don’t. “He pulled his foot up as if to inspect it himself. Then he wrinkled his nose. “No hooves, but they sure do smell.”

Molly’s little girl, Jane, who was sitting in front, giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand.

Pressing his advantage, Gideon stuck his foot in front of Jane and wriggled his toes again. “Want to smell my foot?” When she shook her head with another giggle, he waved his foot in the air in front of her. “Maybe you’d like to check to see if I’ve hidden a hoof somewhere? Behind the toes maybe? Under the heel?”

A couple of the other children giggled.

“Go on then. See if you can find my hooves.” Jane reached out a tentative hand to touch his toes. “Now, don’t tickle me,” he warned. “I’m very ticklish.”

Sara suppressed a smile. There wasn’t a ticklish bone in that man’s body, and she should know, having explored every inch of him quite intimately.

Jane brushed his heel with her fingers, and he let out a fake laugh. “Stop, please stop!” he cried in mock fear. “I told you I’m ticklish!” That, of course, prompted bolder attempts to tickle him, and soon the other children were trying to make him laugh. Before long, they were swarming all over him, a mass of tickling, squealing, laughing children.

She watched, a lump forming in her throat. He would make such a good father. She could imagine him tumbling around in the sand with his own dark-headed boy or wide-eyed girl. How glad she was that she was marrying him!

Now if only she could be sure that Jordan wouldn’t ruin everything.

She brightened. He might not come, of course. Thanks to Gideon’s change of heart, she’d been able to send a letter to Jordan telling him not to. With any luck, it would reach him in enough time to convince him that she was fine and that he need not come after her. After all, only three weeks had passed since Petey’d left, and he probably hadn’t even found a ship sailing from the Cape Verdes to England yet. Why, her letter might end up leaving on the same ship as Petey’s.

And even if the letter reached England after Jordan left and even if Jordan did show up on the island, it would be too late anyway. The minister would be here in two days, and then she and Gideon would be well and truly married.
No
one could part them then. Even Jordan wouldn’t expect her to leave behind her husband, the man she loved.

The man she loved. A pang gripped her chest. She did love Gideon, so much she could hardly bear it sometimes. She’d realized it the night he’d told her about his mother, the night he’d made love to her with such sweetness, it had nearly broken her heart. She’d wanted to tell him then, but her feelings were so fresh, so new, she didn’t think she could stand it if he didn’t say the words back. There was a part of him that still didn’t quite trust her, no matter what he said, and he wouldn’t feel completely sure of her until they married.

How had this happened? When had making a former pirate captain happy become the most important thing in her life? She didn’t know; what’s more, she didn’t care. Her feelings weren’t going to change.

That’s why she’d agreed to marry him. There’d no longer been any point in pretending that she could just blithely sail away with Jordan if he came for her. She could no more leave Gideon than she could stop breathing.

Besides, she had no desire to exchange the serenity of
Atlantis for London. In London she’d always felt as if she were sticking her fingers in a leaky dike to keep the dirty flood of poverty and crime and death from inundating the city. She’d gotten little help from the people who were supposed to be her peers, and indeed, they’d scoffed at her for her efforts. No matter how hard she tried, there were always far more losses than gains.

On Atlantis, however, she could really help people. Thanks partly to her, the women had begun to rely on themselves. The men had begun to show a newfound respect for the women, to ask what they wanted, and to make little courtly gestures that endeared them to their sweethearts. They truly were nice men, most of them.

Together the men and women were building something lasting. It did her heart good to watch people who’d been discarded by their countries regain their self-respect and find a useful purpose in life. Every day she woke up eager for the new day to begin, eager to explore more of the island and find new enjoyments to share with Gideon.

There was only one thing she felt guilty about-that she hadn’t pressed Gideon on the issue of the women. They’d both avoided the subject of the marriages, afraid to tear the fragile thread of happiness that joined them. But she’d have to bring the subject up soon. The month he’d given the women would end in two days, and though most of the women had chosen husbands, some still balked at marrying, particularly those who’d left behind devoted husbands or sweethearts in England.

Surely when she explained their reasons to Gideon he would make an exception for them. She’d come to realize in the past weeks that Gideon was a rational man, capable of great generosity. For all his cynicism, he hoped for something better and was willing to strive to find it. He would see her side of it once she showed him it was the best thing for the colony.

She watched him settle the laughing children about him and begin to tell them a story about One-Eyed Jack,
the ship’s parrot with a liking for salt beef. Trailing her hand idly in the sand, she watched him with her heart in her throat, lovingly memorizing his every feature. His scarred cheek, which she’d once thought looked ominous and now looked so dear…his blunt, capable fingers that had brought her to wild fulfillment several times in the past few days…his absurdly naked feet with the black hair sprinkled across his toes….

Oh, yes, she loved him top to bottom. And though he hadn’t yet said the words, she knew he would. He had to. She wouldn’t let him not love her.

He finished his story and the children clamored for another, but he held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m sorry, children, but I can’t. Not just now. Silas and the others are waiting for me. We’re going on a hunting expedition.”

When there was a chorus of discontent, he said, “You all like roast pork, don’t you?”

The children nodded.

“Well, then,” he went on as he stood and brushed the sand from his breeches, “we must get some for you. But we’ll be back before nightfall, and then I’ll tell you another story, all right?”

“Yay!” the children shouted.

When he went to Sara’s side, Ann stood, casting him and Sara an indulgent smile as she motioned to the children to gather around her. “Come, children, let’s go down the beach a ways. I think I saw a turtle’s nest not far from here.”

Sara cast her friend a grateful smile as the children tripped off down the beach, leaving Gideon and her alone.

“You’ll be gone all day?” she said as soon as the children were out of earshot, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

He grinned as he came up and drew her into his arms. “You sound like a wife, and we’re not even married yet.”

“Do you mind?” she said archly.

“Not for one second.” He kissed her soundly, his hands roaming to places they certainly shouldn’t. Not on an open beach, at any rate.

When he drew back, she clung to him, feeling inexplicably reluctant to let him go. It wasn’t as if they normally spent every waking moment together. But for some reason, today she couldn’t bear to part from him. “I could go with you.”

He laughed. “And do what? Load our rifles? Butcher the meat and dress it? Carry it back for us? You’ve got better things to do than trail through the brush with a group of smelly men on the hunt.”

“You know that’s not the reason you don’t want me to go,” she accused. “You and the others just want to be free to grunt and scratch yourselves and swig grog without having to worry about what we women will think of you.”

“Now that you mention it—”

“Oh, go on with you,” she said in a tone of mock disgust, pushing him away. “Just don’t expect to come to bed tonight stinking of grog and pig’s blood.”

“Don’t worry.” He caught her to him. “After half a day of grunting and scratching myself and swigging grog, I’ll be more than ready for a bath.” He tugged the neckline of her blouse out with one finger and peeked inside it wickedly. “And a few other pleasures I can think of.”

“Gideon!” she protested, a blush staining her cheeks. Would she ever get used to his bold behavior?

Probably not, she thought as his eyes darkened and his hand tightened on her waist. She was already trembling in anticipation of his kiss.

“Captain!” shouted a voice from inside the forest. “Are you comin’ or no?”

With a groan, he released her. “Yes, confound it,” he called. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She reached up
to kiss his cheek. “Go enjoy yourself. And bring us back a good fat porker for the wedding feast.”

“That’s exactly my intention, my love,” he said with a smile. Then he turned and strode up the beach toward the trees.

Her heart pounded as she watched him stop to wave, then disappear into the forest.
My love
. He’d called her
my love
. It probably meant nothing, but it gave her hope. Soon he would say more than that; she was sure of it. She could hardly wait until then, so she could say the words back.

Lifting her skirts with a sigh, she wandered along the beach. She was so absorbed in her dreamy thoughts of Gideon that she didn’t notice how far she’d wandered from the others.

Until someone grabbed her from behind. Clapping a hand over her mouth, he dragged her back toward the trees. Terror struck her, and she began to struggle furiously in the man’s arms.

“Let go of her, Petey!” hissed a voice as she and her captor entered the woods. “You’re scaring her!”

“Don’t scream, little miss, all right?” a familiar voice murmured in her ear. “I’m letting go of you now.”

Her only answer was to jab him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Ow!” he cried as he released her. “What the bloomin’ hell was
that
for?”

She whirled on him, eyes blazing. “For scaring the bejesus out of me, you dunce!”

“Bejesus?” said another familiar voice. Jordan moved from behind a tree, looking gaunt and pale and very out-of-place in his tailored frock coat and trousers. “Your vocabulary has changed somewhat since last I saw you, Sara.”

“Jordan!” she cried, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of her dear, dear stepbrother. She threw herself into his open arms and buried her face in his shoulder. “Oh, Jordan, you’re here!”

“Yes, moppet, I’m here.” His arms tightened painfully around her. “Are you all right? Have those devils hurt you?” He held her at arm’s length as he scanned every inch of her. “You look all right, but I know that doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Truly I am.”

He brushed her hair from her cheek as his eyes searched her face. “You have no idea the tortures I’ve suffered, imagining what horrors—” He broke off, a grim expression on his face. “But it doesn’t matter now. I’ve got you back at last. You’re safe now.”