Defiant: 5 (Noble Passions) (8 page)

But then, his motivation was sharp. He was fighting to
protect Sophia. Thank God she was safe in the hold.

Bullets whizzed by, shouts and the clash of steel rang
through the still air. Men cried out and cursed and howled. Sweat poured.

A particularly filthy pirate had him cornered at one point.
He advanced, chuckling and jabbing his cutlass in Ned’s direction. Ned clocked
his movements, anticipated him, and with a fierce spin of his pole, whipped the
sword from his hand. It flew through the air. Ned leaped forward and caught it.
And lunged.

The pirate, taken totally unawares, squawked and backed
away. But others, others armed as he was, moved in. He took them all on, this
advancing tide of villainy. He thought of Sophia as he whacked and parried and
thrust, holding off the horde.

And then he realized, but for the sounds of his sword and
the grunts of the men he was fighting, there was silence. Wiping the sweat from
his eyes, he glanced around the deck. With horror, he realized that everyone
but he had been taken.

He found himself suddenly surrounded by twenty armed men.
Twenty swords bristled in his face as they closed in.

The pirate he had just wounded gave a gap-toothed smile. He
chuckled. The hush of his breath was bilious.

A pity that would be the last thing he would ever smell. He
focused his thoughts on Sophia. Her lips, her eyes. Her hair—before it was
shorn—her smile. He wanted her to be his last thought. His last—

“Well, yer a right scrapper,” a loud voice boomed over the
grumbles of the thugs holding him still with their blades. They all stepped
back, allowing a rather dapper man to make his way through the throng. He
looked Ned up and down with an assessing glance. “Fight much?”

Ned shook his head. He didn’t trust his voice.

The buccaneer laughed. “Well, I can use a man like you on my
crew, if you’re interested.

Interested? In serving on a pirate crew?

Not only no, but hell no.

“Cor, he sliced me,” a revolting gentleman with black teeth
and a hideously pocked face complained.

The pirate captain, as Ned was certain he was, fluffed out
the froth at his cuff. “It is a battle, Ridgeley.”

“But Cap’n!”

“Tut tut, Ridgeley. One shouldn’t fight if one is not
prepared to be sliced.” He grinned wickedly at Ned. “Wouldn’t you say, sir?”

Ned nodded.

“Right. Now, please put down your sword.”

Ned lifted it higher.

The captain sighed.

“I sais we toss him overboard,” one villain yelled.

“I sais we run ‘im through.”

“Do you?”

“Aye!”

“Aye!”

Yes, yes. They all seemed so inclined. Ned held the cutlass
higher, though his muscles were aching.

“Are you certain you won’t change your mind about joining my
crew?”

“Very certain.” It was nearly a whisper, his voice was so
lost.

“Pity. I do hope you can swim.” The captain waved his hand
and the pirates surged in, making a mockery of his weapon. They wrenched it
from his hand and then lifted him bodily over the rail. He looked down in the
churning waters of the deep blue sea and sent up a prayer. He did know how to
swim but he could hardly swim back to England. And there was Sophia to think
about. How would she—

“
Stop!
”

He cringed as her voice rang out, loud and clear, over the
tumult.

The pirates—apparently they were obedient pirates—stopped.

Ridgeley glanced over his shoulder and Ned followed his
gaze. Dear God. Sophia. On the forecastle, legs splayed in a cocky stance, her
chin tipped in an obdurate angle she must have learned from her brother, her
spiky hair almost riffling in the wind. She held a cocked flintlock in her
hands. It was pointed at the pirate captain.

She was magnificent. She was beautiful. The sight of her
terrified him.

He wriggled madly and the pirates let him down. On the deck,
thankfully. No doubt they could murder him later.

“What the fuck is that?” Ridgeley muttered.

“A boy,” one of the others said with a derisive snort.

The captain silenced them with a wave. “You, boy. Who are
you to dare command my men to stop? They were right in the middle of killing
someone. It’s very rude to interrupt, you know.”

Sophia’s expression rumpled. “You cannot kill him,” she
said.

“Can I not?”

“You should not.”

“Should I not?” He surveyed her far too closely. “Why?”

“He’s more valuable to you alive.”

The captain’s gaze swung back to Ned. “Is he?”

“His brother is a duke.”

The ripple of guffaws was not heartening.

The captain plucked at his lace once more. “Young man. I am
a pirate. What makes you think I give a whit about a lordling…or a duke?”

“The duke is very wealthy. He will pay to have his brother
returned safely.”

“Will he?” The captain did not seem impressed. “How much?”

“A lot.”

A deep sigh. “How
much
?”

“Whatever you ask, I’d wager.”

“I can ask a lot.”

“No doubt.”

“Aside from that, there is all the trouble of sending a
ransom note and arranging an exchange and transporting bodies back and forth.”
He waved his hand. “It’s much easier to toss him over.”

With a great jubilant cry, the pirates hefted Ned over the
rail again. He tried very hard not to squawk.

“If you do, you will die.”

Her words filtered down and settled like pernicious dust.
The captain’s features hardened. He eyed the gun she held as he took a step
toward the forecastle. “Is that a threat?”

“A promise.”

Who knew she could sound so like Ewan? She was defending him
and her tone still made something nasty crawl through his gut.

The captain chuckled. “Will you shoot me then?”

Sophia laughed and lowered the gun. “You needn’t fear me—”

“Trust me. I don’t.”

“It is Moncrieff’s wrath you must fear.”

The pirate stilled mid-fluff. “Did you say
Moncrieff
?”
He spun and pierced Ned with a sharp stare. “Fuck me. You do have his look
about you.”

“Do you—do you know my brother?” Odd, that, having a
conversation with a man, as calm as you please, while dangling over the rail of
a ship.

“Do I know him?” The pirate’s laugh was chilling. Yes, it
was probably too much to hope the man
liked
his brother or owed him a
debt or something convenient like that. “Bring him down,” he called. “The
brother of Edward Wyeth. In my very clutches. Oh, mercy. This has been a
wonderful day. Toss him in the brig for safekeeping.”

“And the boy?”

To Ned’s horror, he saw two pirates had taken her weapon and
were herding her down the steps.

The pirate captain shrugged. “In my quarters. I am in need
of a cabin boy. But tie him up. And for God’s sake, lock up the pistols.

Relief scudded through Sophia as the pirates wrangled Ned
and escorted him onto the deck of the other ship. He struggled wildly. When he
glanced back at her, she sent him what she hoped was a smile of reassurance.

Although, truly, there was no call for either relief or
reassurance. Their safety was hardly assured. Who knew what these vile-smelling
men had in mind? But she didn’t struggle as two of the pirates hefted her over
the rail onto the other boat. For one thing, she didn’t want them to lose their
grip and drop her in the cold waters of the ocean. And for another, she was
heading in the same direction as Ned.

The men took her to the captain’s quarters and made a great
show of tying her hand and foot to a large chair. As they left, the burlier one
frowned at her and grunted, “Stay here.” As though she had a choice.

She struggled against her bonds but only because, after a
long, long while, she became bored. She could hear movements on the deck, the
calls of one man to another and cargo being transferred from one ship to the
other.

Mercy, it took a long time to pillage.

When the captain finally returned to his quarters, he was
sweaty. He mopped at his brow with a handkerchief.

This struck Sophia as odd—that a pirate had a
handkerchief—but she’d never met one so maybe they did. Still, she glared at
him.

“Untie me,” she demanded.

He gaped at her and then laughed but he went down on his
knees and started working her knots. “By the saints, you are a plucky one. I
only had you tied because you pointed a flintlock at me, you know.” He looked
up at her and grinned.

He was rather handsome which was, if one was being honest, a
disappointment. From everything Sophia had read, his beautiful face should have
had at least one scar. There should be hideous teeth, a missing limb…a parrot.
Instead he had laughing eyes, a wicked grin and a cascade of dimples on his
left cheek. A shock of amber curls tumbled on his brow.

Disappointing indeed.

“I only pointed a flintlock at you because you were going to
kill Ned.”

He released her hands and she rubbed her wrists. “Ah. Ned.
Is that his name then? The lordling?”

“Yes.”

“And what is he to you that you would risk your life for him?”

Sophia stilled, unsure how to respond. The captain gazed at
her, waiting. His eyes were blue, she noticed, and flecked with green, like the
sea.

“Well?”

“We’re related through marriage…distantly.”

“Really?” He leaned back and began working on her ankles.
That he cursed the bastards who’d tied the knots amused her. “And how is it you
are not dressed as he?”

“As he?”

“A lord.” He waved at her grungy, well-worn costume. “You
look like a cabin boy.”

“I ran away.” She put out a lip and tried to appear recalcitrant.
If she gained this man’s trust, she could better protect Ned. “He was intending
to return me home.” That, at least, was true.

“I see.” He stood and dusted off his knees, then ambled to a
decanter on the desk. He poured two drams and handed her one. She sipped it
gingerly. The heat of it scorched her, fed her flagging bravado. “And why did
you run away?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Adventure.”

“Well, you’re having adventure now.”

It was probably not wise to smile. Smiling would only
encourage him, she was certain. But she couldn’t help it. It was an adventure.
And Ned wasn’t dead. And—

“What are you going to do with the others?”

“A tender soul, are you?”

“I like them very much.”

The captain sighed and scrubbed his face. “There’s little
profit in murder. We rarely indulge in it.”

“You dangled Ned over the rail,” she reminded him.

“We always dangle someone over the rail. It makes the other
captives more cooperative.”

“I see.” She sipped again and studied him. “Was anyone else
hurt?”

“Only a few of my men. All negligible.”

“And our crew?”

“A sailor took a ball in the leg. He’s with our doctor now.
And another has a nasty cut but I daresay he won’t lose an arm.”

“How gruesome. Does that happen often in your business?
Losing an arm?”

He chuckled. “You sound far too eager about a potential
maiming. Rather bloodthirsty of you, you know.”

She swung her legs. “This is an adventure, after all.” She
took another sip. “Did anyone else get hurt?”

“Some woman.”

“Lady Prudence?”

“Is that her name?”

“I believe so. Did someone skewer her?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t like the light
in your eyes. And no. She fainted and hit her head.”

“A pity.”

“A mercy, actually. She’d been screeching.”

“She does screech.”

He dropped in his chair and studied her as he sipped. “I
daresay you would make an excellent pirate. Once you’re grown, naturally. Have
you any interest in joining my crew?”

Ah. La! Had life been different… “The thought of sailing the
seas and plundering treasures does appeal.”

“There is not often treasure but adventure does abound.”

“Thank you for the offer. I will think on it.”

“Do.”

They both sipped as silence surrounded them. Then Sophia asked,
“What will you do with us?”

He tapped his glass with a long finger. “I will ransom the
others, I suppose. Dreary business. Moncrieff’s brother, however, I have in
mind an exchange.”

“An exchange for what?”

Ooh. She did not like the way his eyes glinted. “Why, an
exchange for Moncrieff, of course.”

* * * * *

Ned was miserable. The brig, as the pirates called it, was
little more than a tiny, airless room with a moldy mattress on the floor and a
bucket should he need to avail himself. Other than the dim light from a small
window by the ceiling, it was dark. His shoulder ached from when the pirates
had pushed him in, hard, and he’d hit the wall.

But that hardly signified. His true misery was in the
thoughts circling his head, his worry for Sophia. She was in the hands of
filthy pirates. In the chambers of their captain. It was a matter of time
before someone discovered she wasn’t a boy at all.

Dread churned in his bowels.

Dear, sweet Sophia, ravaged by that filth.

His pulse spiked painfully in his temples when he thought of
it.

And worse, there was nothing he could do to save her.

He’d tried the door, beat on it and scratched at the lock
until his fingers were bloody, but it was secure. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Though he had never amounted to much in his life, he’d never
really felt a failure. Until now. Now it seeped into him and through him,
soaking him with a sense of worthlessness. Never before had he felt so
powerless. Never before had he felt such bone-deep remorse.

Sophia was the love of his life, the everything of his life,
and he was unable to keep her safe.

He felt great guilt over Percy as well. His friend could be
dead by now for all he knew. Percy had come on this adventure only because Ned
had asked.

Adventure! Hah! Disaster was more fitting.

He hardly cared what happened to him. He would do anything
to save the others. Sophia most specifically. He settled onto the mattress,
though his belly roiled at the thought of what vermin might be living in it, and
tried to rest. He could do nothing for anyone if he was exhausted.

When they came to bring him food—if they came to bring him
food—he intended to rush the guard and escape. He wasn’t sure what he would do
once he was free but it had to be better than this.

It was hours before anyone came, and then when they did it
was not what he expected. His heart lurched as the door swung open. He leaped
to his feet, primed to pounce. But it was not a burly pirate holding his tray.
It was a slender cabin boy with a ragged haircut.

His breath stalled.
Sophia!

He bit his tongue before her name could escape. His gaze
raked over her, searching for any signs of injury or abuse. He saw none, save a
red chafing about her wrists.

“Hullo, Ned,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

No.

Without waiting for his response, she smiled over her
shoulder—at the burly pirate—and chirped, “I’ll just be a minute.”

The guard grunted and leaned against the wall, picking his
teeth.

She knelt before him and fiddled with the plates on the
tray. “Are you all right?” she whispered.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

Her brave smile nearly broke his heart. “I’m fine.”

“The pirates—”

“They’re taking us to a place called Dragon’s Breath, some
island off the French coast where they have their base.”

“And the others?” His pulse thudded.

“All safe.”

“Percy?”

“He’s fine. They’re being held below. Not even tied up.
Except Lady Prudence. She’s gagged.” She set one plate and then another before
him. “They’re really not so bad, Ned.”

“Not so bad?”

“For pirates.”

“We need to escape. Somehow, we need to escape.”

She grinned. He gaped at her. A grin? In the direst of
predicaments? “I’m working on it.” Good gad. That did not reassure him.

“Sophia, I am frightened to death for you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

But she wouldn’t be. Not if they found out—

“Boy!” the guard called, and she nodded.

“We’re distantly related through marriage, if anyone asks,”
she murmured as she lifted her tray. And then, with one lingering look at him,
she was gone.

Ned couldn’t bear to eat. Couldn’t stomach any food. But he
forced himself to. He forced himself to find it—the room was rather dark, after
all—and then he ate.

He needed his strength.

God help him, he needed to save her if he could.

* * * * *

It wasn’t so terrible serving Captain Marquee, Sophia found.
He wasn’t very demanding and he let her take the meals to the
captives—including Ned. It was wonderful to see him when she did but she
worried about him there alone in that dark room. She tried to convince Marquee
to move him in with the others but he just laughed.

As the days passed, the other pirates came to accept her as
a fixture on the ship. She even had several scintillating conversations with a
couple of them over whisky and beef. They shared the tales of their service in
the war with Marquee, and their adventures after joining him on this ship. She
was stunned to learn that they, and many other sailors like them, had had to
resort to piracy after returning home from fighting Napoleon.

It hardly seemed fair.

But they enjoyed their lives and, had things been different,
Sophia might have enjoyed such a life as well. It was magnificent being on the
sea. It was tremendous to be able to do as she liked. No one told her to sit up
or be still or cautioned her not to eat cakes. She scrambled in the riggings with
the other tars and helped swab the decks and feed the chickens.

If it weren’t for fear of what would become of Ned, it would
have been the perfect adventure.

As the pirates came to trust her, they let her take Ned his
meals without an escort and she was able to stay with him longer. They didn’t
talk much and they certainly didn’t kiss—oh, how she missed his kisses—but they
could be together. Occasionally he would hold her hand and stroke her with his
thumb.

Always, ever, she thought of escape.

But they were on a ship. In the middle of an ocean. Short of
inciting a battle wherein she took
this
ship, she couldn’t come up with
a viable plan. They towed the ship they’d been on behind them, though the
captain had left a few of his men to manage the steering and what was left of
the sails. But from this distance, Sophia could tell the ship was far too
damaged to be of any use in an escape.

One morning she awoke to the sight of land off the
starboard. A tremendous relief swelled within her breast as a plan formed. She
waited until the evening meal, until the pirates were all deep in their cups,
and she took Ned his supper.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” she whispered. “When it’s
full dark, come up to the deck. We can slip over the side and swim ashore.”

He frowned at her, his throat working. “But what of the
others?”

She stared at him through the shadows. “You want to rescue
them as well?”

“We should.”

“We have more chance on our own.”

He nodded. Riffled his hair. “I can’t leave Percy.”

Of course not. Not Ned. So brave and loyal. He would risk
all for his friend. She did love that about him. “All right.” She nodded. “I’ll
wait for you in the galley. It’s just down the hall.”

Her nerves hummed as she helped Marquee prepare for bed, as
she did each night. And then she crawled into the hammock in the corner where
she slept and lay there, comforted by the rocking lull of the boat, until she
heard his snore. Then, silently, she dropped to the floor and slipped from the
room.

Her heart thrummed in her throat as she crept back to the
galley to wait for Ned. The night was still, with only the creak of the boat
and the occasional call of one pirate to another, or a muffled snore. There was
no moon but she could see the shadowy hump of land in the distance.

It was a long way to swim, and with so many, she worried
they would not all make it.

“Psst.”

She jumped and whirled to find Ned behind her. His teeth
gleamed as he grinned. She could see in his eyes the glory of being free. She
couldn’t imagine being locked up as he had.

Together, hunkering low, they slunk across the deck to the
forecastle, which was the entrance to the holds below. She led him deeper, to
the bottom deck, where the others were held. The two guards posted by the door
were insensate, mouths agape and drooling.

Sophia shot Ned a smile. She’d given them double rations of
rum with their dinner. Carefully, she lifted the key from the larger one’s
belt. He snuffled and grunted but did not awake.