To Catch a Pirate (2 page)

Then she looked toward the south where another ship sailed boldly away. She thought of the pirate who’d accosted her in the hold.

James Sterling. She’d remember his name. She’d remember his face.

And worst of all, she’d never forget his kiss.

James Sterling was a pirate without a ship.

Sitting in a shadowy corner at the back of the crowded tavern, he reached for his tankard of grog, cursing the fact that he was in this wretched part of the world.

Aboard the
Phantom Mist
, he’d thought he found a place where he belonged. He enjoyed the feel of a ship beneath him. He welcomed the challenge of storms, man against nature. He even relished the dangers to be found in pirating: the risks of battle, the threat of being captured, the chance of being hanged, the opportunity to acquire wealth beyond his wildest dreams.

Yet here he was, condemned to a life on land, a man with a bounty on his head and no ship at his beck and call.

He downed the remainder of his grog and slammed the tankard onto the table. Peering through the smoke-filled haze, he caught the attention of the harried barmaid standing nearby and held up two fingers. She gave him a wink, a bright smile, and a quick nod. He knew two more brews would be forthcoming.

Leaning back in his chair, he toyed with the ring he wore on the little finger of his left hand. A more worthless trinket he’d never known. Fool’s gold and cut glass. It had cost him everything: the life he loved, the danger he craved, the respect of his captain.

Worse still, the girl he’d discovered in the hold continued to haunt him.

He didn’t even know her name, but she’d earned his admiration. Even with his dagger pressed to her throat, she’d been defiant, fire blazing in her eyes, a blue so bright that not even the shadows could dim them. Her brown hair spilling over her shoulders no doubt enticed many a man. He was no exception.

Devil take it, but he dreamed of holding her in his arms. Since that fateful day, no other female had caught his fancy. The girl was a witch, capable of casting a spell over him. It was the only explanation. Why else could he not forget her?

The buxom barmaid set two tankards on his table. With a wink, he flipped a coin her way.

She gave him a smile of invitation. “After we close, I can offer more zan tankards to a handsome lad like yourself.”

James grinned. “Thanks for the offer, but I most likely will be otherwise occupied later.”

She angled her head thoughtfully. “You look familiar,
mon ami
.”

“Can’t imagine why I would. I’m a stranger to these parts.”

“Still, zere’s something about you.” She shook her head as though to clear it. “It’ll come to me. If you change your mind about later …” Leaving the remainder of the invitation unspoken, she turned and walked away. James had no plans to change his mind.

“Is one of ’em fer me, matey?”

James had been so absorbed observing the wench, he’d missed the arrival of Ferret, so named because he had a talent for ferreting out information.

Wrapping his hand around a tankard, James scooted it across the scarred wooden table. It looked as though many a man had carelessly taken a knife to it. “’Course, mate.”

Licking his lips, Ferret dropped into the chair nearest James, bringing the odor of rotting fish and stale sweat with him. Ferret had been a worthy pirate before they’d attacked the
Horizon
. But one of the crewmen, fighting valiantly, had slashed Ferret’s arm. With a festering wound, he’d been declared useless and, along with James, marooned on a deserted island in the Caribbean. James had been forced to watch Ferret die or finish off what the enemy started. He’d finished the task … and no doubt ended Ferret’s career as a useful pirate.

“More’s the pity it wasn’t me right arm,” Ferret had said, once he recovered. “The pay’s better fer a right arm.”

It was like Ferret to grumble over the loss of coin more than the loss of limb. While James couldn’t deny that pirates were dastardly fellows, they did look after their own. A man was compensated for loss of limb, unless he had the misfortune of serving under a captain who would abandon him at the first sight of inconvenience. Which Ferret had.

As had James. While the
Horizon
was burning, Crimson had held a spyglass to his eye, taking pleasure in the destruction he’d wrought. While he attacked ships of all nations, he was in the habit of always burning British ships. Where they were concerned, he held a particular dislike.

As was his habit, James had been standing beside him, careful not to show the relief he felt when he saw the longboat moving beyond the hulking ship and brown hair blowing in the wind.

Crimson considered himself James’s teacher and liked to keep him close. James had started out as his cabin boy, keeping everything tidy and clean. He learned a lot from Crimson. Most were lessons hard learned, but learned nonetheless.

“There looks to be a wench aboard,” Crimson growled. “How’d we miss ’er?”

“She musta been hiding,” James said.

“We tore the ship apart, from stem to stern. Someone had to have seen ’er. I’m bettin’ she was in the ’old.”

Crimson gave him a hard glare, the kind of look that caused lesser blokes to cry for their mothers. It never signaled anything good.

James dug the ring out of his pocket. “She paid me well to let her go.”

Crimson snatched up the ring, studied it, and tossed it back to James. “It’s naught but glass, lad. A bit of fakery. We’ll see how well you think she paid you when I’m done with you.”

James realized then that he should have taken the necklace. Hell, he should have taken the girl. She was a prize worthy of any pirate.

Now all James possessed was the reminder of his foolishness.

It was months before a merchant ship had neared the island where they’d been abandoned and seen their signal fires. Six months of eating fish and lizards. When they made their first port, they’d jumped ship. Since that time, it had been a game of cat and mouse, hiding aboard one ship after another, trying to evade the pirate hunter who was spreading reward notices for James all along the coast. Six weeks ago, James and Ferret had arrived in French Louisiana. The ship that brought them was in port for repairs. It would be a few more weeks before it was ready to head back into open waters. James wasn’t of a mind to wait. Nor did he particularly care for life aboard an honest ship. It involved a good deal of work for very little pay.

Before Ferret could grab his tankard, James snatched it back. “Did you do as I asked?”

“I did. I swear.” He leaned toward James. “It’s as ye suspected. The pirate hunter is on our scent.
The Dangerous Lady
made port late this afternoon.”

James was already well aware of that.

“They say the cap’n be a woman who be equally dangerous,” Ferret began.

“So I’ve heard.”

“But yer not believin’ it. I can tell, but I’ve known women pirates.” He winked. “Known ’em very well, if you catch my drift.”

“But not privateers. No royal governor would issue a letter of marque to a woman. He’d be laughed out of office.”

“But what if he did?”

“Then he’s an idiot.”

“That goes without saying, if ye ask me.”

“I’m not asking you.”

“Ye think she’s lying about the marque?” Ferret asked.

James shrugged, thinking of his mother. “All women lie. All women betray.”

“Aye,” Ferret said, grinning. “But ye got to forgive ’em. Where else ye gonna get a kiss?”

James shook his head, wishing Ferret hadn’t mentioned kisses. It had been too long since James had kissed a girl, and that last kiss haunted him still. “
The Dangerous Lady
is not captained by a woman.”

“Believe what you will.” Ferret reached into his jacket, removed a piece of paper, and awkwardly unfolded it with his one hand. “Woman or no, she’s passing these around. She’s after you, ye know.”

He did know. It was the reason they were living in the shadows of the recently built port city.

James took the paper and studied his likeness, etched on the reward notice beneath the amount of one hundred pounds. It was like staring into a looking glass, so accurate was the portrait. Even his scar began and ended exactly where it did on his cheek.

Someone knew him very, very well. And wanted him badly enough to go to the expense of printing up a reward notice.

He resisted the temptation to crumple the paper and toss it on the floor. He didn’t want someone to pick it up, notice him, and decide the hundred-pound reward was worth the effort of trying to capture him. Such an action would interfere with his plans.

“Many a man would be tempted to turn ye in fer the reward,” Ferret said, as though reading James’s mind.

James lifted his gaze from the reward notice. “Are you tempted, Ferret?”

“’Course not. Yer me mate. Saved me life, ye did.” Ferret grabbed his tankard and quickly gulped the contents. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I owe ye.”

But no other man owed him. And Ferret was right. Many a man would be tempted. He thought of the barmaid’s statement earlier, about him looking familiar. He wondered if she’d seen one of the reward notices. How many others might have?

With a reward on his head, he had to get out of Nouvelle-Orléans … and fast. But how he was going to accomplish that little miracle remained a mystery.

“I found us a cap’n who’s willin’ to take on a couple of experienced sea rovers like us.”

James studied him. “Even a one-armed sea rover?”

“Hey! I only need one arm to cook, matey!”

“Interesting,” James muttered. “You couldn’t cook before.”

“So I’ll be apprenticin’. Ye interested in servin’ as a crewman or not?” He leaned nearer and whispered. “The cap’n be askin’ no questions.”

“I assume the ship isn’t used for legal activities,” James stated.

“If he ain’t askin’ questions of us, I didn’t feel the need to ask ’em of him.”

And James had long since lost the luxury of being particular about where he berthed.

“When does he leave?”

“First light. With the morning tide.”

“Sounds like our luck is improving.”

“Let’s finish our drinks, mate, and I’ll take you to the ship and introduce you to the cap’n.”

James clanked his tankard against Ferret’s. “To fair winds and a fast ship.”

Ferret grinned. His front teeth crossed, making him look every bit like the creature he’d been named for. “And a bit of piratin’ along the way.”

There was no reason to delay, so James drained his tankard in one long, hearty swallow. But Ferret still finished his first.

Neither of them had a need to return to the squalor where they’d been living these past few weeks. James carried everything of importance on him. His pistol was tucked in his belt. His cutlass swung loosely at his side. The only clothes he owned were those on his back. He relished the freedom that his nomadic life offered him.

But sometimes he did find himself wishing for something with more permanence to it. A ship to call his own. A ship that was his to command. That would give him a place that was his. The right ship. A seaworthy ship.

He could almost see it as he wended his way through the drunken crowd, with Ferret following along behind him. But a ship cost a good deal of money.

He and Ferret stepped out into the night. The thick fog had rolled into the city. The gray mist swirled at their feet as they wandered farther away from the tavern, working their way along the narrow streets. Lanterns hung here and there created an eeriness in the fog-shrouded night.

It was nearly midnight and few people were out. Most remained in the taverns. Ferret was leading the way now.

“This way, mate.”

He turned into a dark passage, buildings on either side of it. No lanterns provided light here, but farther down a glow fought the mist. It was exactly the type of place that James would use if he wanted to rob a man.

“Yo, ho, ho and a bottle —” Ferret began singing.

“Be quiet!” James commanded in a harsh whisper.

Ferret obeyed with a muttered, “Just ’avin’ a bit of fun.”

James crept cautiously behind Ferret. He’d never been afraid of the dark, but there was always the danger of tripping over something he couldn’t see. Perhaps it was because he was concentrating so hard on his surroundings that he heard it.

A whisper of a sound.

Something that didn’t belong.

The air filled with the rasp of his sword as he drew it from its sheath.

Ferret stopped. “Here now, mate. No need for that.”

James could see Ferret’s silhouette, the light beyond him. “Something’s not right.”

He felt it in his bones. The hairs along the nape of his neck prickled and rose.

“Mate, you can’t —”

Ferret released a little screech and disappeared into the blackness. James heard metal scraping against metal. Light flared to the side.

He swung around. A half-dozen men stood behind him. One held a lantern aloft. Obviously, he’d had it encased in some sort of metal container to prevent it from being seen earlier.

James heard another sound and glanced over his shoulder. More light. More men.

He drew his knife from its scabbard, so he held a weapon in each hand.

A man stepped forward. “Drop your weapons, Sterling, and you’ll not be harmed.”

James laughed as though he were on the deck of a ship, being taunted by a bully. “If you want them, come and take them.”