Page 41 of A Pirate's Pleasure

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Page 41 of A Pirate's Pleasure

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Fletcher shouted back as he tugged on the ship’s wheel to change its trajectory.

Two hours! Despite it being what we’d been waiting for and a solution to the dwindling food supply, I couldn’t summon any joy that it was finally happening. Maybe I could slope off to Zephyr’s cabin and stay there until it was all over.

Whitby gathered all the pirates that weren’t crucial for continued smooth sailing around him. He ruffled Dawson’s hair, the pirate young enough to be pleased by the gesture. “Good spot, Dawson. Nice and early as well, which gives us plenty of time to prepare.”

With all the pirates’ attention on Whitby, I made good on my plan to beat a hasty retreat by backing away from the assembled group, my focus on getting to the stairs with no one noticing me. Hopefully, from here on in, they’d be too busy to notice my absence.

“I have an announcement,” Whitby said. “I won’t be leading this assault.”

He wouldn’t. Then who? Stafford, I assumed, as the first mate. With Whitby not having gotten around to appointing a quartermaster in his stead, it made sense. I’d had little to do with Stafford beyond him rowing us out to the Welcome Isle, but he seemed accomplished enough. He was the type to get on with stuff rather than feel the need to shout his intentions to do so from the rooftops. Quiet, but effective. Still, it seemed a strange decision for Whitby to take for his first pillaging as captain. Nothing to do with me, though. Not when he presumably knew best. I could ponder his reasons once I was safely back in Zephyr’s quarters.

“Lief will lead the assault.”

I froze in place, the words stealing any chance of further movement from my limbs. Had he just said what I thought he’d said? It seemed he had. The question was, why? Was this the plan he’d referred to earlier? He’d said it required a ship to put it into motion and we had a ship on the horizon, so I guessed it must be. Why, though? What did he think it was going to achieve?

All heads turned my way and, despite wanting to curl up into a little ball, I stood my ground.

“What the fuck!” Newton said. And for once, I agreed with him. Perhaps the option to put the dress on was still on the table. If so, that sounded far more pleasant. Far easier as well.

“I don’t think…” I started.

Whitby cut across me, his words not addressed to me, but to the rest of the pirates, like I wasn’t even there. “We’ve all had our doubts, haven’t we, about whether Lief is truly one of us?” A murmur of assent went up. It included some pirates who I’d thought were on my side. But then I didn’t really have a side, did I? It was more Zephyr’s side, and the memory of their captain would dwindle with time, was probably already dwindling in some of their minds, given that pirates weren’t exactly renowned for their enduring loyalty.

“And we know,” Whitby continued, “that you’re either with us or you’re against us. Isn’t that so?” He lifted his gaze to mine as the pirates all nodded, the look seeming to say that I should trust him. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to give me advance notice of this plan. I would have told him he was crazy, that it wouldn’t work, and that I didn’t want any part of it.

“And what better way,” Whitby went on, “is there for him to prove his mettle, than to have Lief lead us? That way, we’ll know for sure whether he’s one of us.”

It was all I could do not to keep shaking my head. Whitby met my gaze again, this time holding it. “What say you, Lord Cooper? Ready to get your hands dirty? Ready to lead us in my stead to get the food we need to continue in our mission to rescue the captain?”

“And treasure,” a pirate piped up. “Don’t forget about treasure. I’m in the mood for some lovely gold coins.”

“Or some pearls,” another pirate mused. “Big, shiny ones.”

“And treasure,” Whitby agreed. His eyes were still on me, waiting for an answer.

I swallowed, finding myself decidedly short of saliva. “I know nothing about being a pirate.”

“It’s not that complicated,” a voice said from the back of the throng. “Stop the ship. Take what they’ve got. Job done.” West. I hadn’t even noticed he was there. The ship’s surgeon spent most of his time below deck seeing to any minor ailments that came up. No doubt he and Whitby had cooked this up together in their cabin. It seemed they had an interesting line in pillow talk.

I switched my attention back to Whitby, desperately racking my brain for a way out of it before conceding that he had me over a barrel. He was right about me needing to prove my worth. I just wished there was a far less drastic method of going about it.

“Do you accept the challenge?” Whitby asked again. “Will you show us what you’re made of?”

My heart was racing, and I felt sick. It was do or die time. Whitby had backed me into a corner and if I said no, I may as well have signed my death warrant. With friends like that, who needed enemies? “Sure,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I would be honored for an opportunity to show that I’m one of you.”

A cheer went up, the pirates apparently in the mood to cheer at anything. Over the cheer came a voice. Newton’s voice. “Fucker will probably get us all killed.”

He was probably right. Whitby waited until the crowd had dispersed and returned to their positions on the ship, before sauntering my way. He laughed at the frosty glare I treated him to. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “You wanted a way of getting the men off your back and this is it. Do this without making a fool of yourself and you’ll have them eating out of your hand.”

“And what if I do make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’re resourceful. You have hidden depths.”

I snorted. “You’ve known me for what, five minutes? There’s no way you could know that about me.”




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