Page 47 of A Pirate's Pleasure
“Marjorie,” one of the other women called out, a quaver in her voice. “Do shut up before he silences you for good. Now is not the time to make your feelings clear.”
“Good advice,” I said as I moved on. “You should listen to her, Marjorie. That way, you’ll live to tell your husband what a truly awful sea voyage you had. And when I’m not here, you can call me whatever names make you happy.” I paused, Marjorie having enough sense to stay quiet, a fact that I was grateful for. “Empty your pockets,” I ordered.
There was a flurry of activity to do what I’d asked, the hidden treasures unearthed ranging from gold coins to more jewelry. There was even a tiny figurine of an elephant, which I assumed had to be ivory, given that they’d gone to great pains to hide it about their person. The man who it had previously belonged to glowered at me, hatred bleeding from his eyes.
The look from the blonde women next in line wasn’t hatred, though. It was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
Now I thought about it, she looked familiar too. Which meant that our paths had presumably crossed during my time as Lord Cooper, probably at a party or a charity event. As now wasn’t the time to reminisce over what a marvelous time we’d had, I brushed it off and hoped she wouldn’t put two and two together and enquire how I’d gone from being a lord to robbing people. It was a question I hadn’t gotten my own head around, never mind having an answer for someone else. Thankfully, her silence said she was still trying to place me by the time I’d reached the end of the line, relief setting in as I reveled in the knowledge that this was nearly over.
“Garrick!” I turned sharply at Whitby’s shout of warning to find that one of the crew had detached themselves from the line and produced a dagger from somewhere, the blade heading inexorably for Garrick’s back. The pirate would turn—was already turning—but it would be too late. The best he could hope for would be the dagger not embedding itself in a kidney. Ignoring the nagging voice in my head asking what Garrick had ever done for me except make my life a misery, I leapt forward and brought my cutlass up, the dagger no match for the solid steel blocking its way.
A jolt of pain shot up my arm as the two objects collided. The dagger went flying, hitting the deck with a crash. Garrick had turned by now, the pirate quickly taking stock of the situation and reaching the right conclusion to stare open-mouthed at his assailant. It didn’t take long for his shock to turn to anger. Who wouldn’t be furious when someone had just attempted to stab them in the back? Even I couldn’t fault Garrick for that. The only problem was that now it would be self-defense, my own words coming back to haunt me.
I processed the situation in a matter of seconds. Garrick would run his attacker through with his cutlass. There’d be screaming. There’d be blood, bile already forcing its way up my throat in anticipation. In short, all hell would break loose because of one stupid crew member’s actions, potentially leading to an all-out war and an increase in bloodshed.
Not that I’d know much about it, seeing as I’d be unconscious. Knowing my luck, I’d probably get trampled to death in the ensuing chaos. What the crew member had thought he’d achieve by the action was anyone’s guess. Perhaps he just hadn’t liked the look of Garrick, which I could empathize with.
What would Zephyr do? Probably have searched everyone in the first place to ensure there were no hidden weapons and such a thing couldn’t happen. That was the difference between someone having years of experience and someone playing at being a pirate. Knowing that didn’t help me in the slightest.
Garrick started forward, but I was closer. I brought the cutlass up and clubbed the crew member over the head with the handle. He dropped like a stone to lie inert on the deck, Garrick left staring down at him. I nudged him with my foot, but he didn’t stir. As I’d hoped, Garrick didn’t seem to know what to do with an unconscious assailant rendered defenseless. Which was a good thing, because Captain Shelby had already fallen to his knees, his arms wrapped around my thigh.
“Please.” he said, looking up at me from his place at my feet with quite the expression of pleading. “Do not judge us all on the actions of one foolish individual. Sutton has always been a liability. Lazy. Bearing none of the skills that he promised he had. A poor sailor by anyone’s standards. I’m sure you as a captain know what that’s like. We had already decided that we’d search for his replacement at the next port. I wish I’d done it sooner. I should have done it sooner. Please don’t punish the rest of us because of him. Have mercy.”
I lifted the leg the captain had wrapped himself around and gave it a shake, but he hung on like a limpet, still talking. “You’re a magnanimous man. I can tell that about you. A man who—“
“Captain,” I said, “if you would be so good as to let go, I would very much appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course,” he said, scuttling back but remaining on his knees. “I just wanted you to know how truly sorry we all are for Sutton’s actions.” I scanned the line. Marjorie looked anything but sorry, and the blonde woman’s slight frown said that she still hadn’t given up on trying to work out where she knew me from.
“Duly noted,” I said.
“Lief?” I turned my head at my name being called to see Langdon standing by the one remaining crate of food, the rest already on The Navarino. Most of the pirates, including Garrick, who apparently had enough scruples to have decided against killing an unconscious man, were already making their way back across, too, the sea full of bodies once more. “Do you still want us to leave this one?”
A silence fell upon the deck as the crew and guests of the Incharran collectively held their breath. It would be an incredibly easy way to exact revenge. And maybe if I’d been a real pirate, I would have considered it for longer than two seconds. They didn’t know how lucky they were that I wasn’t. I was mean enough to leave a long pause, though. “No. leave it.” I walked away without looking back.
Despite Captain Shelby’s protestations to the contrary, there was quite the collection of swag as I arrived back on the deck of The Navarino. I knew the rules of piracy: everything found was collected together before being evenly distributed between the crew. With relief surging through me that it was all over, I turned out my pockets, adding everything to the pile before making my way below deck.
The knock at the door disturbed me from a fitful doze, the nervous energy of the assault having drained me of any desire to do anything but prop my feet up on Zephyr’s bed and contemplate the day’s events. During that contemplation, I’d slipped into semi-consciousness. I heaved myself up to sitting. “Come in,” I said somewhat cautiously, my hand straying to my dagger under the pillow.
The door swung open, the inimitable figure of Whitby filling the doorway. Relaxing, I let go of my dagger as he entered the cabin. “Your share of the loot,” he said as he dumped a pile of things on the bed. I held up the familiar pearl necklace and the tiny ivory elephant with a quirk of my eyebrow.
Whitby laughed. “Figured the necklace would provide you with some fond memories. You did threaten to cut her head off if she didn’t give it to you.”
I winced. “And the elephant?”
“Good luck charm. Keep it in your pocket and we’ll be sure to find Zephyr.”
I closed my fingers around it, the material quickly warming from my body heat. “I hope so.”
“You did good today,” Whitby said. “Made all the right decisions and said all the right things.”
“No thanks to you throwing me in at the deep end with no warning.”
His laugh this time leaned toward evil. “Admit it. You enjoyed it.”
Had I? I supposed it hadn’t been terrible. It had certainly given me an insight into why Zeph might get a kick out of some aspects of piracy. No one had died, and the Incharran would be fine as long as they headed straight back to port. Poorer and hungrier, but fine. “I’m glad it’s over with and I can give the captaincy back to you.” No lie there.
“It worked, though,” Whitby said. “And saving Garrick’s life was a stroke of luck we couldn’t have foreseen.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “How tempted were you to stand back and do nothing?”