Page 19 of The Pirate Lord
“I should hope not,” she grumbled, then could’ve bit off her tongue at the look of scalding anger that passed over his face.
But he seemed to check it quickly, and when he spoke again, his voice betrayed nothing but indifference. “I see you understand our situation. Fortunately, my men and I have found an island inhabited only by wild pigs. It has a freshwater stream and lush vegetation, and it’s large enough to support a substantial population. So we’ve decided to settle there, to build our own country.”
His gaze grew dark, almost mesmerizing. “But we have no women. And a colony without women … well, you can understand our dilemma.”
The smile he gave her was so unexpectedly charming, she had to force herself not to respond. She didn’t want to becharmed by this wicked scoundrel. “But why these women? Why not pick wives in the Cape Verdes or?—”
“Why do you think we were in Santiago?” He glanced away, his mood seeming to shift to a graver one. “Unfortunately, few women wish to travel to an unknown island where they’ll be cut off forever from their families and expected to do their part in making it livable. Even the … er … ladybirds find that a less than tempting proposition.”
Ladybirds indeed. A blush rose to her cheeks despite her attempts to stop it. “Can you blame them?”
His gaze was on her again, and he smiled as if he took great delight in her embarrassment. “I suppose not. They have reasons to stay on Santiago. But the situation is entirely different for the women of theChastity. They’re doomed to a life of near slavery in a foreign land. We chose them precisely because we thought they’d prefer freedom with us to enforced servitude with cruel former convicts in New South Wales.”
“I’m not sure I understand the distinction between former convicts and pirates,” she snapped. “They’re both criminals, aren’t they?”
A muscle tightened in his jaw, making him look even more forbidding. “Believe me, there’s a profound difference between my men and those cutthroats.”
“You expect me to take your word for it?”
“You don’t have any choice, now, do you?” At her disgruntled expression, he seemed to rein in his temper. “Besides, our island has more to offer than New South Wales, where the weather is pitiless and the government more so. We have perfect weather, easy living, plenty of food, and no government but our own. There are no jailers, no magistrates oppressing the poor and catering to rich nobility. ’Tis a paradise. Or it will be when your ladies join us.”
His eyes fixed on her, a burning zeal in their depths. He’d painted a pretty picture of his island, but Sara wasn’t fooled. New South Wales might have proven unsavory, but at least the women wouldn’t have had to marry against their will. Though the inhabitants of the country might have taken advantage of them, there would also have been opportunities for the women to work hard and attain respectability. A few transported convicts even made their way back to England and their families.
On Captain Horn’s island, however, there’d be no such possibility. They’d be at the mercy of him and his pirates. “A paradise?” She rose from her chair. “Mayhap a paradise for you and your men. You’ve said naught that makes it a paradise for the women. They’re to be forced to be your wives and forced to labor for a ‘country’ they didn’t choose.”
His brow lowered in a frown as he rose, too, rounding the desk to stand inches from her. “Do you think they’d have any choices on New South Wales? I’ve been there. I’ve seen how convict women are treated. They’re parceled out to colonists as servant labor, though every man there intends that the only labor they’ll do is on their backs.”
At his crudeness, a hot flush again stained her cheeks.
He lowered his voice to a harsh murmur. “Those who aren’t chosen as servants are confined in crowded factories where conditions are worse than in England’s gaols. That’s the fate you wish for your charges, Lady Sara? I offer them freedom and you offer themthat.”
His unfair accusations stung. “Freedom? That’s what you call forced marriage? You’ve given me no evidence your colony will be any better. You’re going to parcel those women out to your men just as the Australian authorities do. You’re offering them marriage, but it’s still enforced servitude, isn’t it?”
He stood as rigid as his ship’s figurehead. “Suppose they were allowed a chance to choose.” His words were clipped, as if he already regretted them.
Surprise, then hope rose in her. “To choose what? Whether or not to go with you to your island?”
He scowled. “No. To choose their husbands. They can spend a week getting to know the men and seeing what’s in store for them on our island. After that, however, they must accept the proposal of the man they most prefer.”
“Oh.” She considered that. It was better than his earlier heartless offer, but certainly not as good as giving the women a choice between returning to theChastityor going with the pirates. Though she wasn’t sure they’d want to go back. A tiny part of her knew he might be right about what lay in store for the convicts if they continued on their journey.
If only she could be sure his men truly did intend to retire. If only she had some inkling of their characters. She sighed. They were pirates. What more was there to know?
Still, he was offering something the women might not have gotten in New South Wales—the chance to choose the one who would enslave them.
She sought some way to make the choice easier. “One week is a short time,” she began. “Why, we might not even reach your island until?—”
“We’ll reach Atlantis in two days,” he interrupted.
“‘Atlantis?’” she echoed. “Like the Greeks’ Atlantis?”
For a moment, he lost his stern look. “Some say Atlantis was utopia. And that’s what we hope to create.”
“A utopia where men have all the choices and women have none.”
“I’m offering them a choice.”
“Could we have two weeks, perhaps?”
