Seduced by the Pirate Read online

  Bastian shook his head. “Inform him, miss? No one gives orders to him.”

  She shrugged. “I am not his crew. I shall inform him of it, Bastian.”

  A light brightened Bastian’s dark eyes. “Had a man keelhauled for less,” Bastian said.

  She thought she heard him chuckle as he turned away, and she looked after him. Surely the man was jesting.

  Chapter Four

  Above them, the sails taut, the Golden Orion surged through the swells. They made good time. Jack had hopes they might reach the trading post the day after tomorrow.

  Miss Bromley emerged from the companionway onto the deck. She crossed it and climbed up to the poop deck where he discussed a chart with Pete. At the sight of her determined expression, Pete excused himself.

  “May I help you, Miss Bromley?” Jack greeted her, wondering what was in store for him.

  “Yes, Captain.” She swiped back a wisp of hair from her face, blown by the fresh breeze. “Those sick among the crew must be brought up on deck while their quarters are thoroughly cleaned and the rat holes boarded up.”

  He stared at her. “All the men?”

  “Yes. Four of them will have to be assisted.”

  “It would surely prove injurious to them.”

  She firmed her lips, drawing his attention to their shape. Nothing prim about that full bottom lip. “Remaining in that putrid space will affect them worse. Being moved won’t set their recovery back as it’s quite warm out of the wind.” She gazed about. “I’d like a shelter to be set up for them.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “A shelter?”

  A crease formed between her eyebrows. “An old sail perhaps?”

  “We have no old sails to spare, Miss Bromley. And anything you set up will probably be blown overboard.”

  “Not if it’s secured.” She tilted her head. “Should I ask your quartermaster?”

  He narrowed his eyes, sensing a silent war raged between them. He was reluctant to give into her, while at the same time, felt obliged to. “Sam might be able to help you.”

  Her gaze flickered up to his, a hint of amber in her brown eyes. He waited for her to make more demands, but she must have thought better of it, for with a nod, she made her way back inside.

  Some hours later, Jack viewed his ailing crew members from the quarterdeck, as Bastian carried out the three men who couldn’t walk, placing them together in a more sheltered corner. Miss Bromley fussed around them while Sam rigged up a square of canvas he’d unearthed from the hold to block the wind. The scrubbing out of the men’s quarters had begun, and banging sounded from below as the carpenter worked to block up the holes where the rats got in.

  Jack saw no reason to refuse her request as the skies remained clear. His only other option would be to anchor in quiet waters, which he had no intention of doing, because it would delay their journey. It irked him, however, to be ordered about by a woman. It would weaken him should his men witness it, and he resolved it would not happen again.

  To have the sick on deck increased their vulnerability, should bad weather or a certain Spanish schooner make an appearance. No one on this ship, other than Miss Bromley, would dare make demands. And she’d only got away with it because he wanted her to heal his men as soon as possible. After his crew had recovered, however, it might be a different story.

  He had to admit that she had proven herself to be more than capable without her brother’s assistance. While she moved around his men in the sunshine, he admired her efficient and sympathetic manner. Had any of his crew been fussed over by a woman before? Did they even remember their mothers? Jack had only a vague memory of his, and he wasn’t sure if he might have dreamt her up.

  The tavern whores at their ports of call provided for the men’s needs. While Jack had spent a pleasant time with some pretty and beguiling women himself, none had filled him with regret when he sailed away.

  Perhaps because Miss Bromley was a lady, or because she was caring for them so well, the men tended to treat her with respect. He had not faced a revolt against a woman on board so far, and didn’t see the need to have eyes in the back of his head to protect her from some randy devil. In fact, she was fast becoming a favorite as she soothed them and applied her herbs and potions. And he hadn’t lost another man. Even young Aden, who had been knocking on the pearly gates, still lived. Two had returned to their duties, and back on his feet, Perkins was busy with the laundry which now flapped from the rat lines. The ship began to look less like a pirate ship by the minute. He’d be the laughingstock back in the Azores. He would have to put the fear of God into his men not to breathe a word of it.

  Jack fully intended to honor his promise to the Bromley’s before the Golden Orion continued on to their home base. His crew weren’t welcomed with open arms at most of the trading posts, and there were always the Spaniards to contend with.

  The Spanish captain, Cordova, could still be searching for the Golden Orion, and Jack didn’t wish to engage in a battle until the Bromley’s had left the ship and his crew was back to full strength. He hoped Alex would be well enough to leave when they reached land. He gradually improved, and seemed content to spend his days in Jack’s bed, reading his way through his library, while Jack snatched a few hours’ sleep in the officers’ quarters.

  Jack watched as Miss Bromley made her way to him, tailed by Malik, who still showed no regret at leaving his people or any inclination to return to them. The question of what to do with the lad had not yet arisen. It was a discussion for another time.

  The deck tilted, causing Miss Bromley to grab onto the rail to save herself. Jack grinned. She’d done well and was quickly gaining her sea legs.

  She came up the steps to him. “Captain.”

  “Miss Bromley.”

  She pointed at the waves following in the ship’s wake. “My goodness, is that a porpoise?”

  “A shark, there are a few around since the cook’s slops went over the side.”

  “Oh!”

  Jack watched amused as she gripped the rail, then straightened her back, and turned to him. “The men can return to their quarters tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve begun treating those who have a fever with the mixture called dragons’ blood. I shall need to remain with them throughout the night.”

  Jack didn’t like that idea. And it was his night off. “I believe their quarters have been swabbed, and the rats attended to. Is it really necessary for them to spend the night on deck?”

  “I’m afraid so. The dose is a grain every hour, which will be followed by an enema, and then we will begin the quinine.”

  It didn’t sound like the sort of thing someone like Miss Bromley should deal with. “Instruct some of my crew on how to go about it.”

  “I must oversee the dosing. I thought if you had no need of Pete, he might help me, he is good with the men.”

  “Pete has gone too long without sleep. Sam will assist you. You may call on me if necessary. I plan to take tonight’s watch.”

  Her eyes searched his. If it was for signs of tiredness on his face, he was sure she found them. “I doubt you’ve had much sleep either, Captain,” she said, confirming his suspicion.

  He shook his head dismissively. He wasn’t a patient, and he didn’t require a nurse caressing his brow, even one who looked like Lydia Bromley. “I don’t need much sleep. How is your brother?”

  “A little better today. I am sorry he continues to keep you from your bed.” A slight flush appeared along her cheek, and she brushed the thick dark braid over her shoulder. An unconscious gesture, as if she had no idea how beguiling he found it, or how his fingers itched to unravel the glossy strands to spread over her shoulders.

  “It’s not a problem.”

  Falling silent, she stared over the ocean at the limitless horizon. “How far are we from the trading post?”

  “Another day or two at most, if the wind continues to favor us.”

  She nodded. “I am hopeful Alex will be well enough to go ashore.”


  His eyes rested on the pale skin of her throat. It would be soft and smell sweet with that soap she used. Something she’d brought with her from England which reminded him of roses. A rose arbor appeared momentarily in his mind. Had he been there? Or did he see it in a book? He’d suffered a head injury and had no memory of his life before he was pulled off the street and press-ganged into the navy. He pushed it away, but even her soft, modulated English voice drew him back unwillingly.

  While his gaze was constantly drawn to her, she seemed oblivious of his scrutiny. He wasn’t sure if he was insulted because she’d decided he was no longer a threat. Or did her opinion of him as a worthless pirate still hold? He found he didn’t like either notion. He looked away from the curve of her full bosom, wondering if she had discarded the undergarments most women wore, for comfort in the heat.

  She was a feast for the eyes. His imagination ran riot considering what her body might be like stripped of that shabby white dress she was forced to wear when she’d escaped with only the clothes on her back. She’d requested the hip bath be brought so that she could bathe, but she must wish for a change of clothing. He thought of the trunk of fine velvets, silks, and lace, some encrusted with semi-precious jewels, that they’d brought aboard six months ago from a sinking ship. Now was not the time to offer them to her, he was sure they’d get thrown back at him. He’d give a sack of gold to see her dressed that way.

  “Then a difficult night awaits us,” he said, dragging himself back to the business at hand.

  “Yes. But I’m hopeful this medicine will help those very much in need of it.”

  “Who concerns you most?”

  “Aden. He is skin and bones from vomiting and still quite feverish. His tender age makes him more vulnerable. I’m not so confident I can do much for him.” She frowned. “And I have nothing else to give him.”

  Not the lad. “Do what you can,” he said roughly and took up his spyglass.

  “I’ve discussed the dose with Alex. I feel we have the right of it.” She hesitated. “I don’t know why a lad of that age is aboard your ship, Captain,” she added crisply.

  Jack gripped the spyglass. “He was press-ganged into the navy. Several of my crew were.”

  “Then how did they come to be here?”

  “That’s a long story and one I don’t wish to share with you now.”

  With a pointed look, she descended to the deck, and skirted Ben who was in the process of swabbing the planks with a smile on his weather-beaten face. Damn it if he didn’t pause to touch his forelock. Jack groaned, his men would be so tame, they’d be slaughtered if they met up with Cordova. The adage was true: there was no place for a woman on board a pirate ship. A distracting and civilizing influence would do more harm than good.

  He watched her go, admiring the magnificent shape of her bottom as she bent over one of his sick men. Even he had begun to like having her aboard a little too much. She might make him want something he’d pushed out of his life years ago. He’d been content, hadn’t he? The sooner Miss Bromley and her brother were set ashore the better.

  She was pleased with Declan’s improvement. With a shake of her head and a tsk at his flirting manner, she moved on to examine the next man. It was plain Stirling’s feelings for his crew went beyond the need just to have his ship manned. A motley assortment of men they were, too. Some rough from the streets and one with an eyepatch who was quite alarming, but others, such as Pete and Aden, were not. Who was press-ganged apart from Aden? What had led them to seek this life?

  It stirred her curiosity as to why such a man as Stirling, who exhibited a sense of refinement and intelligence more suited to London society, would become a pirate. Was she foolish to imagine some heartbreaking story of his past which left him with no other option? He might well have always wished for a life of danger, to murder and plunder on the high seas. And yet, she’d seen a tender side to him, though brief. Men were difficult to understand at the best of times.

  Stirling was kind to Malik, and so far, to her. At first, she had bolted her cabin door, stiff with fear that he, or some other man, would enter in the night and ravage her. But as the days passed, she grew more confident. She’d come to know the men by name, their quirks, and peccadillos, and liked the almost courtly way most of them treated her.

  It appeared she could not question Pete tonight. She’d hoped he might tell her more about the captain. Unlikely, however, she’d leave this ship at the trading post without answers to her questions. She’d been tempted to ask Stirling, but his manner didn’t welcome it.

  Leaving the last man, Lydia slipped down to the captain’s quarters. Alex sat propped up in bed, eating a piece of fruit gathered by the pirates, while turning the pages of a large tome. He looked up as she came in. “Stirling has an extraordinarily diverse library.”

  She came and sat on the corner of the big bed. “Odd isn’t it.”

  “Yes. Bit of an enigma is our captain,” Alex said, dabbing at the juice running down his chin with a napkin.

  “Have you not uncovered anything amongst the books which might give you a clue to his past?”

  He eyed her. “You wish to know more? Surely you can’t be growing fond of the fellow. He’s a handsome man, I grant you, but a murderous pirate all the same.” He glowered at her. “The sooner we leave this ship the better.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You have nothing to worry about,” she snapped, hating herself for lying. The captain stirred something in her she barely understood. Something more primitive than she’d experienced in the jungle. Something withheld from her as a young woman taught English ideals. No decent woman would feel these urges. To want to kiss him and lie with him and discover every inch of him. She decided it was his male smell that aroused her every time he came close.

  “I hope I don’t have to worry, Lydia,” Alex said, drawing her back. “I’ll get up tomorrow. Although I’m not eager to chance crossing a floor that seldom stays level.”

  Recovering her good humor, she smiled. “You’re a land lubber.”

  “I suppose I am.”

  “Where do we go when we leave the ship?”

  “Back for my specimens.”

  “But the natives won’t welcome us back.” She found she no longer wished to return, and it irritated her that her opinion wasn’t sought. “What about Malik?”

  “We need to talk about it where the walls have no ears.” He nodded at Malik who was playing with the chess set.

  “Arr. Scupper that!” Oskar the parrot screeched and fixed Alex with a beady eye from where he sat on Malik’s shoulder.

  “Can you ask Stirling to remove that bird?” Alex said irritably. “I’ll swear he has it in for me.”

  Even though Alex was sure it was not Malik’s people who had attacked them, it seemed a very bad idea to return.

  With a rustle of the pages, Alex continued reading.

  Not wishing to argue, she turned back to packing her case with those things she would need tonight while her thoughts drifted.

  After their father died, she had been happy to come to Africa, despite her cousin offering to take her in after expressing his horror at a woman embarking on such a dangerous journey. She’d agreed because it released her from a restrictive existence and offered excitement. She had always done what was expected of her, behaved like a young woman with delicate sensibilities.

  Beneath the surface, she was not one. She knew that about herself. The only time she’d almost escaped those strictures was when she’d fallen in love with an unsuitable young man. But it had been explained to her that women were meant to be like Madonnas men could look up to. No decent woman would wish for what she had wanted from Mr. Boswell after he had drawn her behind a hedge. That he was the gardener’s son had rendered her father speechless with anger after Mr. Boswell senior had gone to him to ask forgiveness for his son’s untoward behavior.

  It had shocked her initially, too, for she had done little to invite it, but when he touched her, Mr. Boswell smelled
of the earth and fragrant garden. He was handsome, too, and made her blood run hot. When he had stroked her breast, she had not stopped him. His murmured promises of the scandalous things he wished to do to her made her warm all over.

  A servant had seen them, and word reached her father. He called her into his study. “You are no great beauty, Lydia,” he had said, crushing her. “Men who make advances are only after your dowry. Remember that and keep a good head on your shoulders. I will not have a scandal in the family.”

  Mr. Boswell went away soon after, and his father was sent to work on another of her father’s properties. Life settled down again. Lydia, crushed by the experience returned to her gardening and her books. Her father never mentioned it again. He wasn’t interested in her. It didn’t matter that he and Alex worked closely together in his study for hours, she had her own interests.

  After he became ill, Father encouraged her to support Alex in his work. It was assumed she would accompany him on his expedition to Africa. It was only to be for a year, and she was happy to experience a new, exciting country. It had not been as she imagined. At first uncomfortable and frightened, she’d gradually grown accustomed to their rough way of living and found pleasure in caring for the natives. But the year stretched to two, and Alex showed no sign of returning to England. She would have his promise and a date for them to leave, and then he would cancel it as he had discovered a new exciting plant. It became imperative that he examine it and make notes.

  She missed England, even though the walled garden where she grew her herbs and flowers would no longer be hers. Alex had leased the house, and her whippet, Hugo, now lived with her cousin, Charles.

  At twenty-six, she no longer dreamed of a happy marriage. Her chance to find a husband had passed while she’d remained at home nursing her mother through her long illness. After she died, her father, deep in grief, had come to depend on her.

  Now, it seemed that Alex depended on her, too. She wiped her forehead with the back of her arm and tried not to feel despondent and a little angry, because women were never considered more than a support for men.