Page 13 of The Pirate Lord
“Even your Mr. Hargraves cannot stop a band of pirates, Annie,” Louisa retorted. “He’s not God, you know. This time all the Miss Willises and Mr. Hargraves’s of the world cannot stop us from being forced into unspeakable?—”
“That’s enough, Louisa,” Sara said sharply. “You’re scaring the children.”
They heard the telltale sound of the hatch door opening. The women all turned as one toward the stairs, their eyes gleaming with fear.
It wasn’t a pirate, however, who descended the steps, but Captain Rogers’s nimble-footed cabin boy. As soon as thewomen saw him, they let out a collective sigh and surged toward the stairs.
Cries of “What’s going on?” and “Is it truly pirates?” filled the air as he stopped halfway down the steps.
“I been sent to tell you to gather your things and come on deck.” His skin was pale, and his skinny legs shook.
“Sent by whom?” Sara asked.
“Captain Horn, miss. Of theSatyr. ’Tis his ship that has taken us.”
TheSatyr. She thought perhaps she’d heard of it, but she couldn’t remember what she’d read. “This Captain Horn is a pirate?”
The boy looked at her as if she were mad. “Aye, miss. Everybody knows that.”
It didn’t cheer her to have her fears confirmed.
“Come on, lad, that’s enough prittle-prattle,” shouted a coarse voice from above, cutting him off. “Tell them to be up here at once. Captain Horn wants the lot of them to present themselves on deck now or risk his wrath!”
The sound of that menacing voice sent the women into a frenzy. They dashed this way and that, gathering their meager possessions, cautioning the children, and drawing on their shoes, for many had begun going barefoot once they’d reached warmer waters.
Soon they were heading toward the stairs with rough canvas bags clutched in their hands. Most even carried the makings for their quilts. Before they could climb the steep ladder stairs, however, Sara moved in front of them. She wouldn’t let them go into this alone. Someone had to speak for the women, and it might as well be her.
“Listen to me, ladies. Remember all we’ve been talking about. No matter what they do to you, your soul is your own. They can’t touch it if you hold it safe within you.”
Her words seemed to give them courage, though it was a somber group who followed her up the stairs through the ’tween decks to the top deck. The sight that met her eyes as she emerged into the brilliant sunlight was a sobering one. TheChastity’s crew lined the sides of the ship, guarded by the most presentable bunch of pirates she’d ever expected to see.
How could these men be pirates? Why, there wasn’t an eye patch or a hook among them! They were clean and orderly, quite the opposite of Captain Rogers’ none too fastidious crew. And as the women massed on the deck, they didn’t hoot or grab at them or make any lewd remarks.
But their indecent attire certainly fit their profession. Leather vests predominated, often without so much as a scrap of a shirt. She’d never seen so many bare-chested men in her life nor so many heads of shoulder-length hair.
Then she caught sight of their weapons, and her blood froze. Knives with carved bone handles gleamed in their hands and a few had pistols tucked into their belts. They might be clean and orderly, but those weapons made it quite clear what they were here for.
Before she could brood further on it, however, a stocky, bearded man with a wooden leg ordered the women to proceed along the deck to the bow. There they found more pirates, a crowd far outnumbering theChastity’s crew and perhaps even the women themselves.
Then the crowd parted, and she got her first glimpse of the man who could only be theSatyr’s captain. He stood with legs splayed and arms crossed over his open-necked white shirt and leather vest, a serious expression hardening the already harsh angles of his face. With narrowed eyes, he watched the women crowd onto the decks.
She didn’t know how she knew he was the captain. She just did. He had a certain haughtiness lacking in the others. Therewere other things, too, like his great height. And his clothes, as fine as any she’d seen. The dove-gray breeches hugging his muscled legs were of an excellent cut and quality, and his belt was crowned with a jeweled buckle.
His ship’s name suited him perfectly. Even though he wore weathered black boots where hooves should be and no horns peeked out above his unruly, shoulder-length black hair, his expression bore such mocking satisfaction that only a real satyr could have matched it. His brutally thorough gaze assessed the women, as if to ferret out their weaknesses.
And his face! Though clean-shaven, it was also that of a satyr’s—blatantly masculine, coldly handsome despite its thick brows and crooked mouth … and frighteningly menacing.
What made him seem so fearsome? Perhaps it was his scars, the crescent-shaped one that bisected his wind-reddened cheek and the tiny slash along the outer edge of his eyebrow that seemed narrowly to miss his eye. Most assuredly, the huge saber he wore tucked in his wide leather belt had something to do with it.
But it was more than that. She suspected this man would be alarming even if devoid of scars and saber and dressed in a frock coat and beaver hat.
“Good day, ladies,” he said with a distinctly American accent. With a grin that took the edge off his fierce looks, he added, “We’ve come to rescue you.”
His words were so unexpected, so completely self-assured that Sara bristled. After all his blatant methods of intimidation, after he’d stood here surveying the women like cattle before the slaughter, he had the audacity to say such a thing!
“Is that what they’re calling thievery, pillage, and rape these days?” she snapped without thinking.
As a murmur of shock passed through theChastity’s crew and the women moved back from her as if to distancethemselves from their mad companion, Sara cursed her quick tongue. Oh, but she was done for now. She might as well have begged him to slice her in two with that wicked saber. This was no civilized lord or blustering sea captain whom she could lecture with impunity. This man had no morals, no scruples, no hint of mercy about him.
