Page 21 of The Pirate Lord
“But I have family in England, Queenie,” a younger woman cried. “I’ve got my ma to worry about. She’s all alone?—”
Sara clapped her hands for silence. “I know this sounds as dreadful to you as it does to me. But Captain Horn is determined to keep us, I’m afraid. He’s already made his only concession by allowing us to pick the men we agree to marry.”
“Us?”Louisa clipped out. Disbelief crossed her face. “He says a lady like you must marry as well?”
“I’m not a lady. The Earl of Blackmore is only my stepbrother. But yes, he says I must marry, too. We’re all in this together. At the end of one week, either we choose husbands from among the pirates, or Captain Horn will choose husbands for us. We can make Atlantis our home or let it be our prison. It’s up to us. He will give us no other alternative.”
“It don’t sound so awful,” Ann piped up. “We’ll have a man to care for and maybe children?—”
“Not all of us crave a man and children to care for, Annie,” Louisa snapped. “Some of us would just as soon do without.”
“I agree with you, Louisa,” Sara said. “But I don’t think doing without is a choice our good captain will allow.”
“What about those of us who don’t attract a husband?” a voice called out from behind the rest. Sara looked to where Jillian, a woman of about sixty, sat resting on a sealed barrel of drinking water. “We ain’t all young, y’know. There’s some of us as won’t be much of an attraction for them pirates.”
“That’s true.” Sara hadn’t thought of that. There were three women among them who were well beyond child-bearing age. Somehow she didn’t think the pirates, most of whom seemed no older than forty, would want to take a grandmother for a wife.
“And what if we ain’t so pretty?” asked a young woman whose face had been scarred by smallpox. “What if no man wants us?”
Sara’s frown deepened. Curse Captain Horn and his blithe assumptions. His beastly plan had a number of large holes in it. He’d said the men would court the women, but if she knew anything about men, they would compete for the affections of the prettiest ones and ignore the others.
Then what? After the pretty ones had chosen husbands, would he force the rest of the men to marry women they didn’t want? What about the women with two or three children? Did he expect his pirates to take whole families on? What if they refused? What would become of the children?
“I think Captain Horn hasn’t considered all the possibilities.” What could one expect from a pirate, anyway? He might rail against England’s class system, but he obviously knew nothing about planning a society himself. “It appears I must have another discussion with our good captain about these things. Perhaps when he understands the complexity of the situation, he’ll realize he can’t expect us to agree to his plan.”
Everyone nodded their assent, though some muttered that they’d just as soon have a pirate for a husband as a colonist. It was clear the women were divided on the subject of choosing husbands.
“I don’t want to be tied down to just one man,” Queenie said, “when there’s an island full for the takin’.”
As the others burst into laughter, Sara bit back a smile. It would be interesting to see how Captain Horn would handle incorrigible “soiled doves” like Queenie. An island full of convicts and pirates wasn’t likely to be the utopia he envisioned. And maybe once the scoundrel realized that matters could hardly work out to his satisfaction, he’d be reasonable.
But somehow she doubted it.
Gideon sat at his desk with a whetstone, sharpening his saber. His hand slipped and he nicked a finger. Cursing, he wiped the blood on his leather vest. It was dangerous to have a blade in hand when Sara Willis was on his mind.
Laying the saber in his lap, he stared blankly at the door. Confound the woman! He couldn’t believe he’d let her rattle him. If not for her, his conscience would be easy about the convict women. The women would be happy, he and his men would be happy, and everything would be fine.
Barnaby was right: they should have left the blasted woman on theChastity. Then her brother—no, her stepbrother—could have dealt with her as he saw fit.
With a curse, Gideon tossed the whetstone onto his desk. What kind of brother was the man, anyway, to let a woman like her go to sea with convict women? The Earl of Blackmore ought to be horsewhipped. Gideon would never have let any sister of his—or even a stepsister, for that matter—do such a fool thing, and certainly not one who was gently bred.
He groaned. Now she had him thinking like a blasted Englishman. Her breeding didn’t matter. She was no betternor worse than those convict women. Besides, with that sharp tongue of hers, it wasn’t as if she were defenseless. But he’d make her toe the line, even if he had to stop up her mouth with a gag to quiet her.
Her mouth. God help him, he could think of more pleasurable ways to stop up that one’s mouth. For just a second, he let himself imagine what it would be like to kiss those impudent lips, to feel them part beneath his and?—
A knock at the door dragged his thoughts away from the delectable Miss Willis. “Come in,” he growled as he took up the whetstone once more.
Barnaby entered with another of Gideon’s men, and between them they dragged a mouse of a seaman whom he didn’t recognize. “We found this one hiding in the longboat, captain.” Barnaby thrust the man forward none too gently. “We think he came from theChastity.”
Gideon cast the man a stern glance. Without saying anything, he began once more to sharpen his saber, watching as the man paled. He stroked the saber’s already razor-sharp blade with the whetstone, letting the snick of stone against steel echo in the cabin several times before he spoke. “Pray tell me,” he said calmly, “who are you, and what are you doing aboard my ship?”
Although the man’s hands shook, his gaze didn’t waver from Gideon’s. “My name’s Peter Hargraves, sir. I sneaked aboard while you were havin’ the women moved to theSatyr. I … I want to be a pirate, sir.”
Another seeker for riches. “And why would you want that? It’s not an easy life, you know. You have to work hard for the gold, and do unsavory things.”
Hargraves looked a little ill, but he stood straighter. “Well, sir … um … the truth is, I got little choice. I’d been plannin’ to go to New South Wales to make my fortune, but you put a stop to that. I can’t return to England, so I stowed away.”
At least he was forthright. Gideon continued to sharpen his blade. “And why can’t you return to England?”
