In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) (16 page)

“Yes,” he said hesitantly.

“Then put me to work. It will show them you expect me to pull my share of the workload; that you aren’t doting on me. Besides, I need something to do. At least at home I could wander the grounds, I had lessons. Aidan, I need to do something.”

He leaned back, crossed his ankles. Her idea had merit. It would show them she wasn’t being coddled. But the men looking at her all day, with the swells of her breasts rising above her bodice, could create another whole series of problems.

“I won’t be wearing a gown, Aidan,” she said, effectively catching him staring at her breasts.

Damned if he didn’t feel his ears burn. “What were you planning on wearing if not a gown?”

She smiled. She had a pretty smile. “I had months to plan my escape. It gave me time to sew a servant boy’s clothing.” She shrugged. “I had no way of knowing what I would need or what role I would need to play in order to survive.”

Intelligent indeed. “You thought of everything.”

His praise brought a lovely pink flush to her cheeks. “I tried.”

“All right,” he nodded, hiding a large yawn behind his palm. “Let me have a few hours’ sleep first.”

Her eyes filled with concern. “You have not yet slept? You’ve been awake all night?”

“Yes, but it’s not unusual. We take our turns manning the helm at night. I’ll just get a few hours at the bow and—”

“You cannot sleep on deck.”

“Why not?” he asked. “I’ve done it countless times. We all have.” In fact, it was a particularly favorite spot of his.

“It cannot be comfortable.” She pushed aside her empty plate, drank deeply of the grog. “Why can’t you sleep here?”

Squawk.
“Sleep here. Sleep here.”

Aidan’s eyes slid to the berth. The visions that filled his head made swallowing difficult. They also made him glad he was sitting down and his lap was hidden beneath the table.

“I can’t sleep in the cabin with you, Sarah. The men will think…”

She looked from the berth to Aidan. Her eyes widened as she understood what he meant. She dropped her hands into her lap and her gaze immediately followed. The situation would have been humorous if Sarah hadn’t started nibbling on her bottom lip as though she was considering such a thing.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t feel right about you sleeping on deck while I stay in your cabin. Perhaps you could give me a task to do now. That way I’ll be out of your cabin and you can rest here.”

“No,” Aidan answered. “I trust most of these men but, in truth, I haven’t worked with many of them before. I don’t want to be asleep when you’re working among them.”

“Then put me in the brig.”

Aidan’s head snapped back. “I will not put you in the brig.”

Squawk.
“In the brig. In the brig.”

“Does anyone else have the key?”

He narrowed his eyes. What was she up to, now? “No.”

“They all agreed to take me in order to lure my father to you?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s nothing to be lost by putting me there. Not only do you have the sole key, it will allow you to rest comfortably and it will also show them, similar to putting me to work, that I am only what you say I am, leverage.”

Again, he couldn’t fault her reasoning. And if there were grumblings amongst his men, putting her in the brig would go a long way to alleviating their concerns. But he didn’t have to like it.

“You’re sure about this?”

“I am. Besides,” she said, her eyes bright as her smile. “I’ve never been in a brig before.”

W
hen Sarah had
suggested the brig, she’d truly been excited about the idea. For one, she would feel better knowing Aidan could rest on a soft bed rather than a hard deck. Secondly, for someone who’d been locked in the same house and yard her entire life, the thought of being in the brig was an adventurous one. Of course that was because she knew she wasn’t a true prisoner and her stay would be brief but, nonetheless, it would be an experience she’d never had. She was smiling when Aidan locked the door behind her.

He didn’t look near as sure or happy as she felt.

“I’ll be fine.”

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Rest. You don’t need to hurry on my account.” She sat on the short stool he’d brought from the galley. “See? I’m perfectly fine.”

He walked away shaking his head, clearly thinking she was out of her mind.

Sarah clapped her hands together, tapped her feet. It was a dingy space, certainly nothing that should excite her. Pinched between secured barrels of supplies stacked to the height of her shoulders on one side and a small enclosure that held a goat and two long cages of chickens on the other, the brig was little bigger than the berth in Aidan’s cabin. And it didn’t smell nearly as nice.

Though the galley was at the other end of the deck, the smell of eggs and onions lingered. It blended with the musty smell of wood, the stench of goat and chickens. It certainly was not an enjoyable combination but she was not so delicate that she couldn’t endure it for a few hours. However, with only the stool to sit on Sarah was glad she wasn’t a true prisoner, as one would have little option but to sleep on the floor. Eyeing the stream of urine meandering from the goat’s pen, Sarah moved her feet. There were some experiences she could do without.

It wasn’t long before the heat of the day warmed the confines below. Perspiration dampened her neck and trickled between her breasts. She sat on the stool until her buttocks numbed then circled the small cell, which only served to warm her further. The pungent smell intensified and Sarah found herself hoping Aidan didn’t rest too long. Sitting again, she grabbed hold of her skirt and flapped it around her ankles. The small current of air was a relief and she closed her eyes, humming as she fanned herself.

“If it were up to me you’d have nothing to hum about and you can be sure you wouldn’t have that stool either.”

Sarah startled. Her eyes shot open and she dropped her skirts. She hadn’t seen this man before; he hadn’t been among the men with Aidan when he’d invaded her home. Looking at the tall man’s seething expression, hearing the snarl snap in his voice, Sarah wished she didn’t have to see him now. Even knowing he couldn’t reach her, Sarah moved further back into her prison.

“This is the only part of the ship you should be allowed to sully.” He spat on the floor. “Captain lets you sleep in his cabin. Can only be for one reason.” His chuckle crept through the bars and slithered over her skin.

Sarah held her tongue. It was clear his only intent was to foul the air with his contempt.

“Your father is the scourge of the Caribbean. The devil himself will rejoice when Santiago is dead.”

Sarah managed not to flinch but the words struck her heart. To these men, he was filth and rubbish, but to her he was the only family she had ever known. Even though Aidan’s intent had been clear from the beginning, knowing she’d lose her father if they succeeded in their quest did not make it any easier to accept. The truth lay heavy in her heart.

He stepped closer, wrapped his hands around the bars. “Your father killed two good men whom I considered my friends.”

“I’m not responsible for my father’s actions.”

“Ah, yes. That would be the same song our captain is singing.” Hatred twisted his sharp features. “You may have him fooled but you’ve not fooled me. You have your father’s blood. It’s only a matter of time until you’re as putrid as he is.”

That very seed of doubt had been planted when Aidan had told her what her father had done to his mother. If he’d truly done something so vile, then wasn’t a part of her also capable of evil? Not wanting to give this man the satisfaction of seeing her doubt, Sarah came around the stool. She wasn’t fool enough to get within reach of his grasp but she nonetheless refused to cower before him.

“I do not believe,” she said with a steady voice, “that I am the putrid one.”

His lips peeled back, revealing long, yellowing teeth. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bars.

“Aye, Peter!” Someone yelled from the direction of the galley. “You were supposed to help me move this barrel, mate!”

“Your father’s head isn’t the only one in jeopardy.” He growled, pushing back from the cell. “You be careful now, a ship can be a dangerous place, especially for a woman.”

Sarah held her ground, met his mutinous gaze with the haughtiest she could muster given her trembling knees. Her heart was trying to kick its way out of her chest but, luckily, he couldn’t hear the pounding that filled her ears. Still, he must have known her bravado was a ruse because he chuckled, stepped forward again, angled his mouth to fit between the bars and spat toward her.

She hopped back to avoid the spittle.

With a last parting glare, he left her alone and made his way toward the galley where he was greeted with a ‘where in hell have you been’.

Sarah’s breath stumbled from her lungs. From the moment Aidan had made his reason clear for invading her home, she’d known both his and his crew’s contempt. Over the course of the two days in the house, Aidan’s disdain had lessened. He’d spoken kindlier to her and had shown her small courtesies such as letting her past the garden walls to stroll the beach.

But even if they hadn’t shown the same change of attitude, they hadn’t threatened her either. Sarah’s hands slid to the base of her neck. She wasn’t simple; she knew he’d meant her head when he’d spoken of others in jeopardy. Just as she knew he intended to do the harming, though he’d been careful not to say so directly. No doubt he was protecting himself in case she were to take his threat to Aidan.

She had no intention of doing such a thing. He wanted her scared and feeling guilty. She was both those things but he didn’t need to know and running to Aidan would only confirm his opinions of her. Opinions, she fumed, that had no base on fact. He knew nothing of who she was, what she wanted out of life. Instead he was condemning her for her parentage and threatening her life because of it. When she’d had as little say in that as she had in how she’d been raised. Frustration pushed her to her feet and she kicked the stool across the small cell. It wobbled across the floor and smacked against the bars. Though she’d never had reason to be bloodthirsty before, she found herself wishing that had been Peter’s head rebounding off the steel.

It was only a matter of time until she was putrid as her father, he’d said.

The uneasiness that she could be like her father resurfaced, only this time she didn’t push it aside, she held it and examined it. Certainly, there had been times of anger and frustration in her life. When her father wouldn’t listen to reason, wouldn’t allow her any of the freedoms she was desperate for. When Simmons and Mrs. Bingham, no doubt on her father’s orders, patted her on the head like a child, refused to look at her as an adult. When every time she turned around, there was a staff member there, watching her, ensuring she wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t supposed to.

Yet even then, she hadn’t wished them harm, hadn’t schemed and planned to hurt them. With Sophia, she’d been careful not to harm her and she’d left that note ensuring—though she wasn’t so certain now—the maid wouldn’t be punished for Sarah’s escape. They may not know her, but she knew herself and she wouldn’t allow anybody’s opinion of her to cloud what she knew as the truth. Sarah straightened, faced the bars though Peter was gone.

“I’m a good person,” she said. “It’s you who needs to look in a mirror.”

Feeling better, Sarah grabbed the stool. With the swaying of the ship the stream of urine crept closer. Wrinkling her nose, she placed the stool as far away as possible and sat.

Sarah knew she was naïve to the ways of the world. How could she not be, having been kept from them? Yet there was no denying her father’s guilt any longer. She’d heard too much to discount it. Clearly, he’d done violent, vicious things.

But why? To what purpose? Did he feel remorse? Any at all? She desperately wanted answers and she needed to hear them from his lips. Aidan didn’t think her father would tell her the truth if she asked, but there was only one way to know, wasn’t there? Perhaps she’d see the truth in his eyes, if she didn’t hear it in his words.

Sarah settled back against the bars to think. It would be hours yet until Aidan awoke and came for her and she intended to use her time wisely.

Aidan had already told her he wouldn’t give her the opportunity to question her father, that if he had a chance to kill him he would. Therefore, she needed to get to her father before Aidan did. A tricky situation to be sure, given she had no idea how to make it happen.

*

Aidan lay on
his back, ankles crossed and hands stacked beneath his head. His eyes were closed, but sleep was a distant speck on the horizon. When Samantha had given up piracy, married Luke, and the three of them had moved to St. Kitts, Aidan had come to sleep with Carracks in his room. At first, he hadn’t known why he’d wanted the noisy bird with him at night but he’d soon come to understand. At the plantation, he’d always been with the other slaves, on Sam’s ship there’d been the crew but it wasn’t until he’d had his own bedroom that he’d realized he couldn’t sleep without someone or something else with him.