Page 18 of The Pirate Lord
He closed the door, a smile playing over his lips. “The coverlet belonged to an obnoxious viscount on his way to America to marry an heiress.” He hung his saber on a hook by the door. Then he strode to his desk and cast her a brazen look. “I enjoyed removing it from the bed he was sharing with his mistress.”
She winced, remembering what Mr. Kent had said about the captain’s hatred of the nobility. Perhaps she should tell him the truth about her own dubious connections. That might make him more inclined to listen to her pleas. “Captain Horn, I think I should … er … set you straight on one matter. I am not … that is to say … you shouldn’t call me Lady Sara.”
In the muted light of the cabin, his sudden scowl made him look even more like a fearsome creature from mythology, liable to snap her up in his massive jaws at any minute. “Oh? And why not?”
“Because I’m not actually a lady—not in the sense you mean it anyway.”
Although she dropped her gaze, she could feel the force of his disapproval as he approached her. “You’re not the Earl of Blackmore’s sister?”
“Well, yes, I am. Sort of.” She swallowed hard. “I mean, his father, the late Earl of Blackmore, adopted me after marrying my widowed mother. So I’m not really Lady Sara, you see, but Miss Willis.”
When he was silent, she ventured to gaze at him again, surprised to find him looking thoughtful, rather than angry.
“Do you mean to tell me,” he said, “that despite being made part of an earl’s family in every sense, you can’t use the courtesy title his other children can?”
She’d never heard it put quite that way. “Well, no, I can’t.”
He snorted. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard.” Running a hand through his rumpled curly hair, he shot her a forbidding look. “I swear, I’ll never understand you English. You have so many rules designed to cause enmity among families. Younger sons can’t inherit, daughters can’t inherit, fathers are pitted against their heirs. It’s a confounded mess.”
His commentary on the social makeup of British society startled her. Pirates weren’t supposed to have opinions on such things. Or express them so eloquently. “You must admit it’s worked well for hundreds of years,” she said in faint defense of her countrymen.
He quirked an eyebrow up. “Has it?”
With those two words he conveyed all his contempt for English ways. What could possibly have roused such feelings in him? Americans were testy about being a former British colony, to be sure, but this was extreme. And though she was dying to know why he hated the English, she didn’t ask. She doubted this proud pirate would answer her.
He studied her, as if wishing to open up her mind and peer inside. She’d endured the ardent glances of lords and thelascivious looks of many a prisoner at Newgate, not to mention all those sailors. But never had a man looked at her with such unsettling concentration.
She dropped her gaze, searching for something to say to shift that intensity away from her. “In any case, I’m sure that’s not what you brought me here to discuss.”
That shook him out of his silence. “Certainly not.” Moving behind his desk, he took a seat in the armchair, then gestured to a chair near her. “Sit down, Lady Sara.”
Though she did as he said, she protested, “I told you. You can’t call me?—”
“It’s my ship and my rules. I’ll call you whatever I damned well please.” His gaze skimmed her body before snapping back to her face. “It’ll serve to remind me that you have a stepbrother lurking, waiting to pounce on me any moment.”
His sarcasm brought her up short. Why, he wasn’t afraid of Jordan, not one jot. No doubt her revelation had made him assume Jordan was no longer a threat. And that wasn’t what she’d wished to accomplish.
She folded her hands primly in her lap. “The fact that Jordan is my stepbrother and not my brother doesn’t change anything. He still won’t forget about me. He’ll be after you just as soon as he learns what happened. There will be warships hunting you everywhere. You won’t be able to sail for fear of my stepbrother.”
Her words didn’t have the effect she’d intended. A smile crossed his handsome face. “Then I suppose it’s just as well we’re not sailing anywhere once we reach our destination.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “We’re retiring from piracy, my men and I. That’s why we need wives.”
That stunned her into temporary silence. She glanced around the cabin at the gold fittings and extravagant comforts. “Retiring?” she choked out.
“Yes. As you may know, piracy’s a dangerous profession lately. Most governments now seek to ferret out our kind and destroy us. And my men and I have more than enough spoils to make us comfortable. We don’t wish to end our illustrious career by kicking the clouds, if you know what I mean.”
She nodded mechanically. She’d done enough work at Newgate to recognize the cant for hanging. But retiring?
Settling back in his chair, he laced his fingers together over his stomach and surveyed her with his disconcerting gaze. It seemed to touch her mouth, her cheeks, even her well-covered bosom. If another man had looked at her like that, she would have been appalled. So why was it when he did it, her pulse quickened?
“The trouble is,” he went on, his tone lower, huskier, “we have no country to retire in.”
“What about America?”
“Not even there. Let’s just say America holds little appeal for most of us. And I doubt any American towns would welcome a pirate band with open arms.”
