Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance (9 page)

Steele’s fist flew again, dropping Isaac to his knees. “And that was for me.”

Then, leaving the man cussing, he turned and locked the cell. “Find Jacques,” he said to Aidan. “Send him to Grace. He’s to stay with her until either you or I replace him. For the moment, I want you at the helm. You see land through the sight glass, no matter how small a pile of dirt it is, turn the ship toward it. I won’t be long.”

“Aye,” Aidan answered, leaving to his task.

“You’re going to leave me marooned?”

The whine laced with the fear wasn’t nearly enough restitution to suit Steele’s mood. “Marooning is the least of your worries,” he told Isaac. Then, needing to find a solitary spot and knowing his cabin was out of the question, Steele went further below.

Steele didn’t have a lantern but he knew his ship. He splashed through the ever-present thin layer of water which remained no matter the bilge pumps ran nearly non-stop. The air was damp, humid, and smelled of brine. There were shadows in the shapes of crates, barrels, and casks. He stopped at the nearest crate, clutched it as he unleashed the emotions he’d barely contained in his cabin.

Lord, the things that could have befallen Grace if he hadn’t heard her scream. Hadn’t given her a weapon. She’d have been at Isaac’s mercy and—

He dug his fingers into the wood until the splinters pierced his skin. He’d very nearly failed her. Had it been stormy, he would never have heard her scream and it could have been hours before he would have had time to go below. He bowed his head as the anger subsided. She was fine, he reminded himself, though his breath bumped out of his lungs. She’d protected herself and done a fine job of it. Yet…

Yet he’d assumed his crew would toe the line; that they would adhere to his orders. It was his error in judgment which had put her in harm’s way. Because the hatch leading to his cabin was near the quarterdeck, he’d assumed nobody could slip by unnoticed. Well, he wouldn’t make the same error again. From this point forward, she was either going to be with him, Aidan, or Jacques and if anybody else so much as even glanced at the hatch, they were going to be very sorry.

*

As luck would
have it, when Steele reached the quarterdeck there was no land to be seen. His temper stirred, but he banked it. Isaac would get what was coming to him, even if it was going to take longer than Steele would prefer. He’d sailed this way before and knew they were within a day’s voyage of a few spits of dirt worthy of dumping a man like Isaac on.

“Any grumbling?” he asked Aidan.

“Curiosity more than grumbling, I’d say.”

“They’ve seen me angry before.”

“Not over a woman.” Aidan pointed out.

“She’s on my blasted ship and in my cabin. The fact that she’s beautiful is pure happenstance and has no bearing on my actions. I promised her she’d be safe and—”

Aidan’s lips twitched. The action not only stopped Steele’s rant, it made him realize he was protesting too much. Clearly the whole lot of them had gotten the wrong impression. “She’s my responsibility, that’s all.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Then wipe the damn smirk off your face before the rest of them see it. I’ll be below.” He scowled at every man who dared look at him as he raised the hatch to his cabin.

He’d no sooner placed his feet on the decking of his cabin than an appreciative whistle rang through the room. He stopped cold.

Grace was sitting on the bed and her face, ears, and the length of her neck flushed brighter than the parrot’s red head. She looked horrified. Jacques, on the other hand, wore the same infernal smirk Aidan had a moment earlier.

“It was Carracks!” She hurried to explain, inexplicably bruising his pride. “And I swear on me brother’s grave, I wasn’t the one to teach him.”

Steele held up his hand. The moment Samantha had taken Luke Bradley aboard her ship and subsequently married him, the man had started teaching the bird an entirely different vocabulary. Since she passed the bird to Aidan four years ago, Steele had overheard the boy adding to it on more than one occasion.

“I don’t hold you accountable for what the bird says. He’s had years of Luke’s and Aidan’s teachings.”

Squawk
. “Luke is handsome. Luke is handsome.”

Steele peeled off his coat and tossed it over the cage.

“I-well—” She placed a hand over her stomach as her eyes darted from him to Jacques and back again. “Despite me present condition, I don’t make a habit of throwing meself at men.”

He’d already figured as much and it wasn’t her words which held him captive. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her hand. He remembered placing his own large palm on Catherine’s belly and wishing for the babe to hurry and grow so he could feel it move. When he’d finally felt Caden stir for the first time, he’d felt like a god.

He shook his head. Grace wasn’t his wife and it wasn’t his child she carried.

Jacques pushed his chair away from the table. “If you’ve no further need of me?”

“You can return to your duties.”

Steele took his crewman’s empty seat at the table. Not only was it an appropriate distance from Grace, it was a safe one as well. He’d seen the gash she’d left on Isaac’s cheek. While he had no intention of attacking Grace, he’d nevertheless witnessed her temper and his next words were going to fuel it.

“I promised you safety on board my ship and yet Isaac slipped in and you were almost hurt. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t hold you responsible for his actions. Besides, ’tis thanks to the knife you gave me I was able to defend meself.”

“You shouldn’t have had to and I will ensure you never have to again. From now on, Jacques, Aidan, or myself will be in your company at all times.”

The flush which had begun to dissipate returned to Grace’s cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak then seemed to change her mind. She swallowed, took a breath. “That is completely unnecessary.”

“It’s also not open for negotiation.”

Grace came to her feet. Her hands curled at her sides. Yet she surprised him by not raising her voice, though he could see it cost her not to.

“I’ve a weapon and you’ve work that needs doing. Surely your time will be better spent manning the ship and getting us to Santo Domingo as fast as possible.”

“We will be later making port than planned. We’ve altered our heading. Isaac won’t be reaching Santo Domingo with the rest of us.”

“Then surely once Isaac is gone you won’t need to play nursemaid.”

“He’s the not only man on this ship and, clearly, I can’t keep watch on them at all times. As for having work to do, you’re right. My time is better spent manning the ship than whiling away the day in my cabin.”

Grace’s hands unfolded. Her smile caused an odd and unwanted catch in his throat. Suddenly his plan didn’t seem so sound. He pushed to his feet. He needed to get back to his duties. He grabbed his coat off Carrack’s cage, shrugged into it then opened the chest he had at the foot of his berth. Finding what he was looking for, he tossed it to Grace.

“I’ve no need for a hat.”

“You will above decks. Let’s go.”

Squawk.
“Let’s go. Let’s go.”

“I’m not going up on deck. Your entire crew is there!”

“Most, yes. As I will be.”

“And you’ll be working. ’Tis better if I stay here. I won’t be a distraction.”

If only it were so easy
. “You’ll be less of a distraction if I don’t have to worry about someone slipping into my cabin when my attention is turned. This way the men can see to their duties and you can enjoy some fresh air.”

“’Tisn’t fresh air I’m wanting, ’tis peace and I’ll have more of it here.”

“You’ll be fine on the quarterdeck. Besides, I’ll not have my men thinking they can control circumstances on this ship. I won’t be maneuvered into keeping you below simply because it’s less of a distraction for them. They have duties and they will see to them while learning that I and I alone decide who comes and goes on this ship.”

“But—”

“You’re going up, Grace.”

Squawk.
“Up Grace. Up Grace.”

“To what purpose? To have them gawk and stare the moment you turn your head? To suffer the lust in their eyes?”

“If they do you’ve only to tell me who and he will see the same fate as Isaac.”

“Be that as it may I’ve had—”

“There isn’t only you to think of, there’s the child. It’s not good for either of you to be locked in stale air for days on end.”

“And what would you know of what’s best for a child?”

Everything in him went still then turned cold. Grace seemed to realize her misstep. Clutching the hat in her hand, she hurried to apologize.

“’Tis sorry I am. I’ve overstepped.”

Steele took as big a breath as his constricted lungs would accept. Then looking her in the eye he said, “Five minutes. If you’re not on deck by then I
will
come and get you.”

*

The moment the
hatch closed, the air left Grace’s lungs in a puff. She sat hard on the berth. When she’d seen the dark look come over Steele, she’d been sure she was in for a beating, or worse. She’d hurt him and she’d expected him to retaliate. Instead, he intended to see she had constant protection.

While a part of her resented the order, for it made her feel like she was a captive all over again. She could also admit, in this situation, she was relieved. Weapon or not, she was no match against most men. She’d learned that the hard way as an indentured servant. Granted, it could’ve been worse, the overseers on the plantation could have done to her what Roche had, but she’d been beaten enough times to know she had little defense against men. And while she’d bloodied Isaac and had threatened to do worse to him, if Steele hadn’t come, she’d have fared worse than Isaac.

Yet, as tempting as the idea was of the sun on her face, of the warmth of the air floating over her skin—as she’d had precious little of it while in Roche’s captivity and she certainly hadn’t enjoyed the blistering sun day in and day out working the sugar fields—she knew sailors. They had to go weeks and months without the pleasures of a woman and it drove them to bad tempers and poor judgment. Isaac wasn’t the first example she’d seen, there had been plenty on their sail from Ireland.

But Steele would be near and she was safe with him.

Though it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two since Steele had left her, he was waiting. He opened the hatch just as she reached it.

“Thank you.”

His blue gaze pierced hers. “You aren’t in any physical discomfort?”

“You’re speaking of the sutures? They pull a little, but ’tis more uncomfortable than painful.”

He nodded, guided up her to the quarterdeck where yet another surprise awaited her. He’d had a chair brought up and had placed it so it faced the stern. She could enjoy the sun and wind, without having to look at the crew and the only thing they’d see of her is the back of her head.

She took her seat, smiled at Aidan who was dismissed now that his captain was back at the helm. The wind was light and she tipped her head back, closed her eyes and relished it drifting over her face, skipping across her throat. The heat of the sun warmed her skin and seeped into her body, creating a haze of contentment. For the moment she had no worries, nor cares.

It was all due to the pirate named Steele.

Without moving her body, she opened her eyes and peered at him. Legs braced, his large hands clasped the wheel as his focus stayed on the sea ahead. Hatless, the wind toyed its fingers through his dark hair and beard, fluttered his red shirt. He appeared unyielding and cold, a typical pirate captain and, yet, she suspected there was more to Steele. She’d seen the shadows in his eyes yet had benefited from the care he’d taken with her. He could have left her in his cabin, or at the very least the brig, but he’d seen she was tended, fed, and kept safe from his men. And now he wanted her and the child to have fresh air and sunshine.

He intrigued her. Oh, her interest wasn’t due to any sort of foolish romantic notions. Such things were for weak women, willing to lose themselves in order to please a man. No, she wasn’t looking at Steele and thinking romance. She was simply curious, drawn to the complexities and contradictions of the man. Who was the real Steele? The cold pirate or the caring man she’d caught glimpses of?