Lady Pirate (25 page)

“Well,” Jackson said as the three men now glanced down at the deck, “she's not yelling at us to stop yet.”

“Nope,” Bull agreed unhappily.

“She's still watching, though.”

“Yep,” the other two men said.

“Looks pretty angry still, too. She don't look quite ready to spare him.”

“Nope.”

“I'm thinking she's still wanting to hang him.”

“Seems so,” One-Eye said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

They were all silent.

“Did you bring the rope?”

One-Eye frowned at that question from Bull and shook his head. “Seemed a waste of time. Expected
her to call a halt the moment we got up here.”

“Hmmm.”

“I'd best go down and fetch some, huh?” Jackson suggested.

“Aye. Mayhap the delay'll give her a chance to remember she's not bloodthirsty.”

Nodding, the man started down the rope, and One-Eye and Bull turned their attention back to their captain.

“I don't know,” Bull rumbled with a shake of his head. “She's looking pretty mean.”

“Always did have a temper,” One-Eye muttered.

“Aye.”

“And she sure is riled this morning. His calling her Back-from-the-Dead Red probably didn't help.”

“Yep.” They turned to glare at Daniel briefly for being foolish enough to do so; then Bull nudged One-Eye and nearly sent him tumbling out of the crow's nest. “And you thought they would be perfect for each other.”

“You agreed,” the fellow said mildly, steadying himself.

“Aye, I did. Guess we were wrong,” he said sadly. “Here comes Jackson back with the rope.”

“What's Henry doing down there?” One-Eye asked as Jackson mounted the last of the ladder and handed up the rope.

“Babbling his head off, tryin' to convince her to spare him,” Jackson announced. Bull began to attach the rope to the rail.

“What's she saying to his babble?”

“That his knowledge could put us all at risk, something we should have thought of ere bringing him here. That her job is to lead us and keep us safe, and it is a job she has to see to.”

“Hmm. That's true enough,” One-Eye agreed with a sad sigh. “I see Richard and Petey are on deck now.”

“Hmm. They're trying to assure her that Danny here won't talk none if they just are allowed to chat with him.”

“She buying that?”

“Not for a bowl of beans.”

They all sighed, then Bull finished tying the rope and sighed. “Shame.”

“Real shame.”

“Pity.”

“She'll regret it later,” One-Eye assured Daniel quietly as he slid the noose over his neck.

“Most likely she don't even like it now,” Bull commented, scooping him up and carrying him to the edge. “She can't stomach killing.”

Daniel could feel the large man's arms tense as he prepared to heave him off the rail. Silently he began to pray.

 

“You cannot, you simply cannot, do this!” Henry cried with dismay, watching Bull fit the noose around Thurborne's neck. “He is a lord, a—”

“He is a threat to each and every one of you now that he knows who you are. If we return him to London, he will head right to the king to turn us all in.”

“Not if you marry him. If you marry him, he'd become master of this ship. The welfare of all these men would be his. Look, this isn't his fault. At least give him the chance. Marry him, bed him a couple times. Get with child; then, if he doesn't come around and look like he'll keep the secret, we can make ye a widow. But you'll have fulfilled the requirements of your father's will. Then we can still claim the land.” Henry watched her jaw tighten, her expression telling him that she was at least considering the idea. He had to restrain himself from telling her to think a bit quicker as he glanced warily up at the crow's nest. Bull was lifting Thurborne into the air in preparation
to toss him over. If she thought too long, it would be too late, but he already knew pestering her wouldn't work. She did what she wanted, in her own time, too. She always had.

“Halt,” she called suddenly to the men above. Henry tried not to sag with relief as she began to pace before him. It was obvious she hadn't made up her mind, but he wouldn't pester her. It wouldn't help if he did. All he could do was wait until she had thought it out.

When she suddenly stopped to whirl and face him, Henry felt himself stiffening to attention anxiously. “Very well, Henry. I'll marry the bastard to save your hide and his. But if he doesn't show signs of coming around right quick, you will be making me a widow. You
personally
.”

He nodded solemnly, hiding his relief as she continued. “And I won't be either forgetting or forgiving this action, you sneaky old tar.”

 

“What did she say?” Bull asked, glancing down at the deck where the captain appeared to be chewing Henry out.

“Sounded like ‘Halt' to me,” One-Eye muttered, peering hopefully down.

“Nay, it was ‘Toss.'” Jackson joined them at the railing.

“Toss?”

“Aye, as in ‘Toss 'im.' Toss him over.”

“She wouldn't say ‘Toss,'” One-Eye snapped impatiently. “She'd say, ‘Get on with it,' or ‘Throw him over,' or maybe even ‘Toss him over,' but she wouldn't just say ‘Toss.'”

“Well, I think she said ‘Toss,'” Jackson said a bit peevishly.

“I'm pretty sure it was ‘Halt,'” One-Eye argued. Bull agreed. “Sounded like ‘Halt' to me.”

“Me, too,” Daniel supplied.

“See, that's three to one.”

“Well, he
would
say that, wouldn't he?” Jackson asked with disgust.

“Hoy!”

They stopped arguing at that second shout, and Bull leaned a little farther over the side, dangling Daniel a little farther over too, as he peered at the man who had called—Henry.

“Fetch him down!”

Relaxing, Bull stepped back from the rail and set Daniel on his feet.

“There, ye see?” One-Eye commented with obvious relief, stepping forward to remove the noose from his neck. “I told ye she wouldn't see ye dead. 'Tweren't yer fault ye're here.”

Daniel merely stared at him numbly. He was rather numb all over, actually. He couldn't seem to feel a thing: not his legs, not his arms, not even anger. He was just numb.

Other than removing the noose from around his neck, they did not bother to untie him further. Bull simply slung him over his shoulder, then swung out onto the rope ladder, carting him down just as he had carted him up. Despite the awkward position, Daniel was rather grateful. He did not know that he could have managed the climb down—what with not being able to feel his legs and all.

 

Valoree watched grimly until the men were halfway back down the ladder, then glared at Henry and turned to stalk back into her cabin. The men had certainly gotten her into a fix this time. She had truly thought she would have to see the man dead. She hadn't wanted to, and had felt a shredding sensation in her chest as the man was led up the ladder to the crow's nest. That shredding had intensified a hundred-fold as she had seen them place the noose around his neck,
but she had truly seen no alternative. Her brother had left these men in her care. The knowledge Daniel now held, thanks to their foolish interference, had made him a terrible threat to them all. It was her job to see he never betrayed them. Just as it was his job to betray them.

But if she married him, something she had been resisting doing from the start, the men became his responsibility by English law. He would hardly turn himself in. Not that she was pleased to be giving up control this way, but faced with that or seeing an innocent man, king's spy or no, dead, well…

Sighing, she dropped into her chair wearily. Mayhap she had been dreaming anyway to imagine that she could marry and retain her independence, even if she had married someone like Beecham. Legally he would have been lord over her and all she owned anyway, and the men might very well have accepted that.

Pirates they might be, but they were oddly traditional for all that. Hence the reason she had pretended to be a male for the past thirteen years. In truth, she might be grateful for the change as well. While there was a certain amount of satisfaction ordering these men about, some of the responsibility weighed heavily. Her decision today, for instance. There was no pleasure in ordering the death of a man. None whatsoever. She had done it twice before, but those times the men had been scurvy dogs deserving of their fate. Too, she had left the men to the chore and retreated to her cabin. It was not that she lacked the courage to watch it, but simply that she had no desire to. She did not care to watch garbage being tossed over the side of the ship each day either.

As for Daniel, he had been a different proposition entirely. His death, were she forced to see to it, was not of his own making, or even remotely his fault. The blame lay solely on the shoulders of her men. That put
her in a quandary. She would have to punish them for that. They had gone on their own initiative and done something they had known she would not wish, and their actions had resulted in what could still mean the death of a blameless man. That was why she had not been able to leave the deck during his execution. He did not deserve to die, and she felt she had to acknowledge that by witnessing it.

But mayhap now he would not have to die. Not if he would still marry her. The tap at the door when it came did not surprise her. Nor was she surprised when Henry entered. She had expected as much, desired him to follow her, even. That was why she had glared at him hard before coming to her cabin. He had, as usual, understood.

Now he closed the door of her cabin and faced her solemnly, waiting for her to speak.

“He may still have to swing,” she announced abruptly.

Henry grimaced. “It's all my fault.”

“Aye, it is,” she agreed heavily.

The quarter master sighed. “How many lashes?”

Valoree glanced away with a frown. Henry already knew that he would be receiving punishment, or mayhap he was assuring her with his words that he understood she had to inflict it to maintain control of the ship. Also even that he deserved it.

“It depends on whether he has to die or not,” she decided at last.

Henry nodded solemnly.

She shifted impatiently and muttered, “I know little about marital law. Do you or any of the men?”

“If ye marry him, all that is yours is his,” he assured her eagerly.

Her mouth tightened. “I fail to see what makes you so damn happy about all of this,” she said in a snarl. “If I marry him everything is his. If I do not, every
thing goes to someone else. Either way I lose everything—including control over my own destiny.”

Henry blinked at that and frowned slightly. “Aye. Well, it is the way of the world, girl…er…Captain.” Expelling a breath, he took a step closer. “If ye want my opinion, yer future will be brighter in the hands of Daniel than with Beecham, and that's a fact. I—”

“I
don't
want your opinion,” Valoree snapped, her mouth twitching. Then she shook her head impatiently. “You do not understand at all. There is no threat that someday
you
shall be forced to give up all your authority and respect to stand behind a woman!”

He blinked in surprise at that. “But I've already done that. When I agreed to work fer you.”

She frowned at him impatiently. “You are being deliberately obtuse, Henry. You know what I mean. You can leave my employ if you wish.”

Sighing, he moved closer again. “You are like a fish swimming against the stream. Do you tell me that you truly do not grow weary from all the responsibility? That you do not sometimes wish to lay down your heavy load and allow someone else to carry it? You have shown spirit and courage by your leading of the men so far, but I know it wearies ye.”

“I'll not deny that. But to share it with someone would be preferable to being ruled by another.”

“I'm suspecting Thurborne will bear the worst of the burden, but allow ye the freedom to be yourself.”

“You suspect,” she repeated tiredly. “But what if he does not?”

“Do you truly think ye would be happier with Beecham?”

“Aye, he—”

“Is a boy wanting seasoning. By my calculations, he'll grow to be very like Daniel in time, if given the chance. You would not give him the chance. It might
work out anyway, but most likely would not. Besides, to be honest, I don't think ye'd enjoy bedding him like you will Daniel. Lord Thurborne sees ye for what you are; there are no illusions. He's smart and strong. Ye respect him for that, and don't bother denying it. And ye want him.”

When she stiffened at that, he shrugged. “It's plain talk I'm giving ye but there is no time for other. Ye want him. And he wants you. You respect him and I would imagine after today he must return the sentiment,” he added. “It's more to start on than a lot of people have.”

“But will he wish to marry me after I almost had him hanged?”

Henry grimaced. “Aye, well, that may be a problem. He's probably none too pleased with any of us right now.”

“If he will not marry me, I will have to see him dead.”

“Aye,” Henry answered, “Mayhap we could give him some time for his temper to cool.”

“How much time?” she asked dryly. “We do have a time limit.”

“Aye, eight months to make a babe,” Henry murmured, thinking for a moment. “Let's give him a week or so. We'll sail south a ways and give him some time to relax and get over today, then put it to him real diplomatic-like.”

“How diplomatic can you put ‘Marry me or swing'?” she asked dryly. Henry smiled and shrugged.

“Just give him a week.”

Sighing, Valoree leaned back in her chair and nodded. “A week. Maybe a couple days more. But then we will have to deal with him and return to collect Beecham.”