Page 47 of The Pirate Lord
It wasn’t right. Despite her talk of fairness and equality, Sara had tacitly accepted Petey’s sacrifice as if it were her due, without even stopping to ask if it were what he truly wanted.
Well, not anymore. “Peter isn’t going to marry me.” Sara’s voice was firm. “If I’d guessed how you two felt about each other, I wouldn’t have agreed to this arrangement. Now that I know, I certainly can’t go through with it.”
“But miss—” Petey began.
“That’s my final word, Petey. We don’t know what the future will hold, and I won’t let you marry me when you love another.” When he opened his mouth to protest again, she cut him off. “We might be here for years. You never know. It’s foolish to behave as if this might end any day.”
A hopeful look passed over Ann’s face, but Petey crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. “And what about the Pirate Lord? He’s got his eye on you, y’know. If he thinks y’re free?—”
“I’ll deal with that in my own way,” Sara said, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.
“I don’t like it,” Petey grumbled, then noticed how the hope faded from Ann’s face. He moved swiftly to her side and slid his arm around her waist. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you, love. It’s just that I got a duty to Miss Willis.”
Sara sighed. Petey would never relent as long as he thought she needed protecting. And certainly from the way Gideon had spoken to her that morning, he intended to pursue her no matter what.
She went very still. Actually, that could work in her favor. “I know what we can do. We can use Gideon’s stubbornness against him. After all, he said he would do whatever he must to have me.”
“When did he—” Petey began.
“Never mind that,” she said quickly. “The point is, as long as I insist on choosing you, he can’t force me to choose him.” Her words came out more quickly as her idea took shape. “Indeed, the more I resist, the more likely he is to put off making the women choose until I’m free to choosehim. And since that day will never come, we can stall him endlessly.”
“Endlessly?” Petey sounded skeptical. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but I can’t see the Pirate Lord waitin’ on your leisure forever. He’s bloomin’ stubborn.”
Truer words were never spoken. “Still, all we need is time to think of a plan, a way to get us all freed.” She cast the couple a fond glance. “In any case, it’s better than forcing you two into a miserable situation.” She faced Ann. “What do you think? Can you pretend to be strangers when you’re around the others?”
Ann bobbed her head. Clearly, she’d do anything to hold on to Petey.
“Good. That’s what we’ll do then.”
Petey tightened his grip on Ann. “And if the pirate surprises us? If he grows tired of workin’ on you and turns to some other lass? If he abides by his promise to make the women choose husbands in a week? What then?”
“Then the two of you will marry, and I’ll fend for myself as best I can.” When he scowled, she added in solemn tones, “You know that’s the only thing to do, Petey. Do you really want to see Ann given to some man without her consent? Because that’s what Gideon will do if she doesn’t choose anyone.”
That apparently decided him. In a gruff voice that held a hint of relief, he agreed to her plan.
“Good. Now why don’t you two go on back before someone realizes you’re both missing? And you’d better separate before you reach the beach.”
“Aren’t you comin’ with us?” Petey asked.
“In a minute. I want to explore the area.”
Petey looked as if he might protest, but when she cast him a mutinous glance, he shrugged and led Ann off toward the stream.
The truth was, she wasn’t ready to face Gideon again. Those pirate’s eyes of his seemed to see right through her civilized veneer, to show it for the thin protection it was. She was still reeling from his admission this morning—that he’d turned down a night with Queenie because he wanted her. She needed a few moments alone to prepare herself, to marshal her wits for the battles he forced her to fight. A few moments, little enough to ask.
She should’ve known Gideon would never allow her even that.
“They make a pretty couple, don’t they?” came a husky male voice behind her, startling her nearly out of her skin.
“What?” Whirling, she found the pesky object of her thoughts ducking beneath the low-hanging branch of a gnarled oak to enter the clearing.
Instantly, her heartbeat accelerated to a panicky rhythm. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? Did he know what she and Petey were planning?
“Wh-who makes a pretty couple?” she stammered.
“Ann Morris and Petey, of course.” He leaned back against the oak, looking irritatingly sure of himself. “I just saw them headed down the stream.”
The faintest sprinkling of sunlight through the branches limned his dark hair with golden highlights, and his trousers hung low on his hips, exposing far too much of his muscle-taut belly. If not for those trousers, he would certainly look the part of the first Adam, all well-wrought sinew and tanned skin. An image of him in a fig leaf sprang into her mind before she squelched it.
