Page 23 of The Pirate Lord
Miss Willis entered. When she’d left his cabin before, she’d been full of fire and fury, but now she seemed more subdued, even afraid. Strangely enough, he didn’t particularly like that demeanor on her, and that made him speak more sharply than he should. “Well? What did the women decide?”
She seemed not to hear his question. “As I was coming in, I saw that you’d taken prisoner a crewman from theChastity. What do you intend to do with him?”
For some reason, her concern for a lowly English sailor irked him. “Make him walk the plank, of course.” When her horrified expression showed she believed him, he added, “He’s joining my crew. That’s all.” Relief flooded her face, prompting him to ask, “Why do you care?”
She dropped her gaze from his. “I wouldn’t like to see anyone from theChastityharmed.”
“How kind of you.” He wondered if Miss Willis was who Hargraves had sneaked aboard for. But that was absurd. British sailors knew better than to fall in love with women above their station. And a lady like Miss Willis would certainly never be romantically interested in the likes of Peter Hargraves.
So he got right to the point. “Have the women decided to accept my offer?”
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Her fear vanished, replaced by a fierce determination that showed in the stubbornset of her mouth and the glint in her pretty brown eyes. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” He rose from behind the desk, rounding it to stand in front of her. “Remember, if they don’t want to take the week to choose, I’m simply going to let my men pick whom they want.”
“No!” When he raised one eyebrow, she added, “They want to have the week, of course. It’s better than the alternative. But they have questions. About how this will work.”
He settled one hip on his desk, watching her intently. She looked flustered, and that was just how he wanted her. The more flustered she was, the quicker they could settle all this, and he could get her out of his cabin.
Why he wanted to do so, he preferred not to examine too closely. “Ask your questions but be quick about it. I’ve got a ship to run.”
Tucking a tendril of hair under her frilly cap, she squared her shoulders. “Some of the women have children. Will the men who marry them take on that responsibility as well?”
“Of course. We’re not monsters, you know.”
Judging from her frown, she disagreed. “And what about the older women? We have several women past child-bearing age. If none of the men wish to marry them, would you choose them a husband who might not want them?”
Confound her, he hadn’t considered that. But that could easily be corrected. “I’ll make an exception for the older women who can no longer bear children. If they find no man who will marry them, they are free to remain unmarried.”
Her breath came out in a sudden whoosh. “So, if a woman can find no man to marry her, she doesn’t have to marry?”
“I didn’t say that.” The little witch was putting words in his mouth now. “The women of child-bearing age must still choose a husband, or onewillbe chosen for them.”
With a sniff, she crossed her arms over her chest. He wondered if she had any idea how she looked standing in the center of his cabin. With that ridiculous cap on and her demure dimity gown torn and dirty from the hurried transfer of the women to theSatyr, she reminded him of an urchin begging favors of a lord. Except he wasn’t a lord, and she was certainly no urchin.
She proved that when she lifted her chin in defiance. “Suppose a woman is too plain to attract a husband? Will you force some man to marry her just because you want to pair them all up?”
Her words sparked his temper, as much because of her logic as because of her contempt for his plans. He stalked toward her, finding a grim satisfaction in the sudden wariness that leapt into her face. “My men have spent the last eight years at sea with only an occasional night in port to satisfy their need for female companionship. Your women could be horse-faced and snaggle-toothed, and my men wouldstillwant them, I assure you.”
It wasn’t entirely true, but he’d had enough of her quibbling. She would follow his rules, if he had to lock her up to do it!
She backed away, her cheeks pinkening. But even when she came up against the door to his cabin and saw she was trapped, she continued to plague him. “I hardly believe that your men would want a wife who’s?—”
“Enough!” He planted his hands against the oak door on either side of her shoulders, pinning her between them. “Your women have a week to choose husbands. When that week is over, I’ll do as I see fit with whomever’s left unwed, and nothing you say will change that!”
“But you’re not thinking this through,” she protested, turning her pretty chin up another notch. “If you force people?—”
“Why are you being so stubborn? Are you worried you won’t find a husband? Are you afraid nobody will choose you?”
The color drained from her face. “Why, you obnoxious, despicable?—”
“Because you needn’t worry about that. Plenty of men on this ship will find you attractive.”
Before she could stop him, he tugged her mob cap loose, casting it aside on the floor. As she stared at him with wide eyes, her breath coming in jerky gasps, desire bolted through him, sudden as a summer squall. Auburn strands of hair clung loosely to the bun she’d tortured them into, and her eyes were nearly the same color, a dark, reddish-brown fringed with the longest, most delicate lashes he’d ever seen.
By God, she was beautiful. Peach-tinged lips … a wide, white brow … and satiny skin with just enough freckles to hint at a mischievous nature. He hadn’t been this close to her before, hadn’t had a good look at that delectable face.
He and his men had come across many Englishwomen during their days of pirating. And though he’d kissed one or two to irk their stuffy husbands, he’d never wanted any of them. Not the way he suddenly wanted this one.
