Read A Pirate of her Own Online
Authors: Kinley MacGregor
A Pirate of her Own (4 page)
She stopped dead in her tracks and stared wide-eyed at the large glass window at the front of the shop.
Following her line of vision, Morgan found himself face-to-face with two members of his crew. Barney and Kit were staring in at them.
Would today’s aggravations never cease?
They were supposed to wait for him down at the docks, not follow him about like two lapdogs with nothing better to do than yap at his heels.
The two of them stood with their legs braced far apart as if standing on deck in the middle of a typhoon, and they leaned against the glass, their hands cupped to shield their sight from the outside glare. All he needed now was for Barney to grin and wave at him like some half-wit.
He growled low in his throat. May the rains soak their rotten hides!
Well, he’d deal with them later. First he had a mystery to solve—how this woman had learned who he was and whom she had told so far.
And most important, how far would he have to go to make sure that their secret went no further.
He started to return to his interrogation when all of a sudden a brown and gold coach pulled up in front of the shop.
Barney and Kit glanced around as a footman dressed in green livery jumped off the top of the coach. He opened the coach’s door.
A huge black umbrella was shoved out into the rain and opened, then tilted upwards to reveal an elderly woman whose dress would rival Serenity’s for plain ugliness. She scowled at Barney and Kit before holding the umbrella over the coach’s open door. A young, attractive blond woman emerged from the coach an instant before the footman closed it.
With a frown on her pale, angelic face, the young woman cast furtive glances at Kit and Barney as she and her chaperone made their way into the shop.
“Goodness, Sister,” the blond woman breathed, her attention still focused on the two sea dogs behind her who had returned to peeking inside. “What strange admirers have you gathered now?”
“Good day, Honor, Mrs. O’Grady,” Serenity said in greeting. “He’s a friend of Douglas’s who just came by for a birthday surprise. But as I’ve already explained to this gentleman, I haven’t the time.”
“Ach now, lass, what were you thinking by letting him in here? You should know better than to be letting a man such as this one into the shop while you’re here alone,” Mrs. O’Grady warned in a thick Irish accent. Era O’Grady was the self-crowned matron of propriety. Her gossiping tongue had sealed the fate of many a young woman, and Serenity wasn’t happy at having been caught by her.
Still, Mrs. O’Grady was loyal to Honor, whom she planned on grooming to take her place of town gossip should anything ever happen to her. With a few heartfelt apologies, Serenity should be able to allay any of Mrs. O’Grady’s concerns.
Besides, Serenity was a plain woman who would never catch the fancy of a man such as this. Everyone in town knew that.
Even Mrs. O’Grady herself had said such.
Mrs. O’Grady raked her gaze over the stranger, and if Serenity didn’t know better, she’d swear the old woman’s eyes gleamed with appreciation.
“I’ve seen men like him talk a woman out of her virtue countless times,” Mrs. O’Grady warned. “Be too late for you when it’s done. Your father will have your head over this. Just see if he doesn’t.”
“You’re quite right, Mrs. O’Grady,” Serenity agreed. “Men are the blight of the world and hazardous to all women.”
Morgan lifted his brow at her words. Even though she spoke with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, he didn’t like being called the blight of the world.
“I was just escorting him to the door when you arrived.” Serenity shoved his hat into his hands and eyed the matron, who was scowling at the two of them. “It was a pleasure to meet you, sir, and I’m grateful for your sense of humor, but I must be going.”
With an expediency that astounded him, he found himself back outside in the drizzling rain, standing next to his two men. A moment later he watched while Serenity and her sister were whisked away by the speeding brown coach.
“Well, Cap’n?” Barney asked as rain dripped off of his brown-colored tricorn hat and into his face. “Did you find out about that there paper story?”
Dumbfounded, Morgan could only stare after the departing coach. Never in his life had he been dismissed so easily. He found it downright…humbling.
Infuriating!
How dare she dismiss him as if he were nothing but a nuisance! Women had fainted at his mere presence. Fought one another for just a smile from his lips.
By God, kings had
begged
for an audience with him. A sultan had even offered him his daughter’s hand. And this little chit had rushed him out into the pouring rain without so much as a by-your-leave.
Remembering her words about his hat and its precarious perch, he jerked it down low on his head. “All right, Miss Serenity James,” he said as her coach disappeared from his sight. “When next we meet it’ll take more than your sister and a scowling Irish biddy to protect you.”
“Beg pardon, Cap’n?” Barney asked with a
serious frown. “What scowling Irish biddy do you mean?”
Angry at Serenity, her chaperone, himself, and the reminder that his men had disobeyed a direct order, Morgan glowered at Barney. “What in Triton’s hell are the two of you doing here?”
Kit turned a bright shade of red and Barney drew himself up to the full five feet six inches of his height.
“Why, we’ve come to help you, Cap’n,” Barney said with a wide smile that showed off the gap between his two front teeth. “Thought you might need a good pirate sword to silence the tongue of that thieving dog what went and wrote about you in his story.”
Growling low in his throat, Morgan knew all too well that nothing short of bloodshed would intimidate Barney. “How many times do I have to tell you that we’re not pirates?”
“Right,” Barney said with a conspiratorial wink.
“I know we’re not pirates.”
Morgan wanted to throw up his hands in defeat. With Barney practically bragging they were pirates, it was only a matter of time before someone believed the old sea dog and hung the lot of them.
If you had any brains about you at all, you’d throw the old barnacle and his bird off the ship at next sail.
But no matter how angry Barney made him, Morgan could never do that. Nay, he owed the old man much more than could ever be repaid.
If not for Barney, he would never have survived his years of imprisonment in the British navy. And though Barney’s grip on reality was sometimes shaky, the old man had a generous heart.
“So Cap’n, do we drop that there blooming writer into Davy’s Locker?” Barney asked.
“Nay,” Morgan said quietly, even though he did rather enjoy the idea of Miss James walking the plank. Perhaps a mouthful of seawater would quiet the wench. “It turns out that the
he
in this case is a
she
. And I shall deal with her in my own way.”
Thunder clapped above their heads and the slow drizzle turned to a hard rain. Morgan scowled up at the sky, then at the pair before him. “Dammit, Kit, take Barney back to the ship and see to it that he’s dried out before he catches his death.”
“Bah,” Barney snorted. “What’s a little water to a pirate?”
“A bout of pneumonia if he’s not careful,” Morgan warned.
Lifting his tricorn, Barney curled his lip and ran his hand through what little gray hair remained. “You treat me like I’m nothing but an old woman.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t follow me about like a mother hen I might not—”
“All right, Cap’n,” Barney interrupted, setting his hat back into place. “You just go on about your business and me and Kit will see to it that the
Revenge
is ready to sail when you are.”
Now, why did he have a hard time believing that?
Because it would be the first time in your life that you ever won an argument with Lord Thick and Knotty Pate.
Resigning himself to the inevitable, as well as to the fact that he might not get a chance to finish a single sentence for the rest of the day, Morgan left them there while he retrieved his horse from the nearby hitching post.
He pulled himself up into his saddle and directed a meaningful gaze to Kit. “Take him home.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Drake.”
With one last look at the incorrigible pair, he set his heels into the horse’s flanks and took off after Miss James’s coach.
Hours later, dressed in her best gown, and standing in the middle of her father’s ballroom, Serenity forced herself to smile.
The open room was surrounded by Grecian columns wrapped with pink satin and ivy. A thousand beeswax candles flicked from the eight crystal and gold chandeliers and torchères positioned strategically around the room. The orchestra balcony overhung the right corner, and dancers twirled about while the other guests stood in clusters talking about politics, recipes, and the latest scandals.
Since the party began, Serenity had been pulled aside countless times by matrons wanting to know if she’d heard from her runaway sister, Chastity, and by kinder souls who wished her a happy birthday.
But it was terribly difficult to focus on her birthday party guests while her mind kept drifting back to her encounter with her mysterious man.
It wasn’t every day that one of her characters manifested himself in her office. Especially a character so handsome.
If only she had learned his name.
If only she could quit thinking about him!
There were over two hundred guests in attendance, not the least of whom were the parson’s family and hopping-hands Charlie Simms, who kept trying to drag her out into the gardens.
People drifted around her as they went about their regular lives, while she had experienced something miraculous today. Something she knew she would never forget.
Enough, Serenity! Pay attention to the dancers. Look at the matrons chaperoning their young charges.
Concentrate on poor Parson Jacobs!
The parson had already had to repeat himself three times while he talked to her. Even now she wasn’t really sure what he was talking about. Something to do with Jonah. Or was it Job?
Oh bother!
Nodding at the parson and murmuring what she hoped was an appropriate response to fill the few lulls in his conversation, she let her gaze roam about the room in search of Douglas. Maybe he could answer all her questions about her mysterious visitor.
A flash to her right caught her attention. Turning her head, she looked up just in time to see her sister rush toward her with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.
“Please excuse us, Parson Jacobs,” Honor said breathlessly an instant before she seized Serenity’s arm and dragged her rather rudely toward the open French doors.
Serenity frowned. “Whatever is the matter—”
“He’s here!”
“Mr. McCarthy?”
“Nay, not my beau, silly. Yours!”
Completely confounded, Serenity stared at Honor as if she’d gone daft. What was she talking about?
Hopping-hands Charlie?
Nay, her sister wouldn’t be so cruel. “My suitor?”
Honor grabbed her about the waist and swung her to face the crowd.
Serenity swept her gaze across the marble and gold ballroom where dancers twirled about in time with the minuet. Candlelight flashed against jewels and brightly colored gowns and even a few outdated wigs. She saw a number of men she knew fairly well, but none of them would have elicited such a response from her sister.
A sudden hum of voices permeated the room. Voices that grew louder and louder until the musicians stopped playing.
Dancers faltered in their steps, and all of a sudden the dance floor cleared.
“Holy Christmas,” Serenity breathed. It was
him
. And everyone in the place was obviously as entranced by his presence as she.
And if she thought her mysterious man handsome before, she was wrong.
He wasn’t handsome, he was…
Whatever there was that went beyond handsome—that was what he was!
Her breath caught in her throat and an electric charge ran the length of her body, riveting her.
No longer disheveled and rain soaked, but still dressed in black, he had the bearing of a prince and the aloofness of a king.
Until one noticed his eyes. Eyes that betrayed his studied nonchalance. Like some exotic predatorial beast, he scanned the crowd, taking in every detail. Sizing up every man as a possible opponent and every female as a possible conquest.
As his gaze touched on the women, feminine heads came together behind fans that fluttered and swayed. It was obvious he was on a quest, and in that second of realization, Serenity knew he sought
her
.
Her heart pounded in expectation. In excitement.
“Oh, my word,” Heather Smith gasped from where she stood about four inches from Serenity’s right. Heather, whose virtue was more than questionable, had been talking to Felicity Jacobs, the parson’s daughter, for most of the evening. And it was to Felicity her comments were now directed. “Tell me, Felicity, have you ever seen the like?”
“Nay,” Felicity answered back. “But I tell you this, that man is certainly a devil out to ruin some poor woman this night.”
“Well, if he be the devil, you can chain me to
his
throne anytime.”
“Heather Smith,” Felicity snapped. “You’ll lose your soul for such words!”
Then their conversation vanished into the crowd, lost in the sudden buzz of female voices and the clearing of masculine throats.
The sound became deafening.
Serenity couldn’t take her eyes off the source of everyone’s speculation.
Paying no attention to the people around him, her pirate strode across the room with a masculine swagger. He was dark and deadly and mesmerizing.
“He
is
the Sea Wolf,” Honor whispered in her ear. “He’s just as you described in your story. Where on earth did Douglas find someone so perfect?”
“Out of my dreams,” Serenity breathed.
Morgan Drake scanned the women, but none of them bore any resemblance to Serenity James. Belatedly he realized that he had become the topic on everyone’s tongue.
The last thing he needed was for this many people to take notice of him.
His crew was ready to sail and he was anxious to leave the busy harbor before someone recognized his ship. But until he could be certain that Miss Serenity James would exercise discretion regarding his identity, he couldn’t risk another mission.
It had taken him hours to find out where she lived.
If only he could find her…
His gaze darted over two young women standing just outside the center pair of French doors. He well remembered the petite blonde with her luscious curves from the paper’s office.
There was also something about her companion that seemed oddly familiar.
It struck him like a pugilist’s fist.
Nay, it couldn’t be.
Stepping closer, he finally recognized Serenity James.
How she had changed! Gone was her hideous black rag, and in its place she wore a stylish gown of pink. Though she lacked the voluptuous curves of her sister, there was a glow to her face that made her stand out.
Her chestnut-colored hair had been swept up into the type of style that made a man yearn to free it, and he had no doubt that the soft ringlets would be like satin in his palm.
And her eyes…
Without her spectacles to overshadow them, they were mesmerizing. Fire and intelligence sparkled deep within their depths. And something about them sent heat straight to his groin.
Morgan tensed. Whatever was the matter with him?
She was not his type. Indeed, her stunningly beautiful sister should have tempted him more.
But there was something about Serenity that made a mockery of her name.
Morgan closed the distance between them. She greeted him with a suspicious smile, arching an inquisitive brow that made her look like some impish elf out to make mischief. “Why, sir, I don’t seem to recall your name on our guest list. Perhaps if you give it to me…”
“And what name would you call me?”
“Sea Wolf.”
His gut tightened in response. Aye, she knew him. And now she’d involved her sister. So be it. “We
must
talk.”
“Go on, Serenity,” her sister whispered.
Her gaze uncertain, Serenity glanced back at Honor. “I have no chaperone,” she said under her breath.
“You do now!”
Morgan watched the two women as Serenity frowned at Honor, but judging by the determined slant of her sister’s eyes, he doubted if the whole of Washington’s army could deflect Honor from getting them alone.
Why? It was strange to him that he had such an unlikely ally.
What did Honor hope to gain?
“I believe the library is empty,” Honor said, taking Serenity’s arm. “If you’ll follow us, Mister…?”
He said nothing.
Serenity exchanged quizzical looks with Honor, and he wondered what game they played.
Could it be trap?
It could. And well he knew it.
His senses sharp and alert, he detected no imminent threat. He followed them through the crowd of people that no longer seemed quite so curious about him, other than to speculate what it was he wanted with Serenity.
Now that he knew for certain Serenity James had learned his identity, he needed a plan of action.
But how in the world could he keep silent a woman who loved to babble as much as this one?
Hang her out to bake in the bleedin’ sun, Cap’n. Let the gulls feast on her gizzard.
Well, that would certainly be Barney’s answer. As well as his own.
Honor ushered them into the library across from the ballroom, then closed the elegantly carved mahogany door behind them. As Serenity walked past him, Morgan realized she had bathed and found a decent rose-scented perfume.
Her pink dress rustling slightly with her steps, Serenity moved to stand in the center of the room. A slight shake to her hands, as well as the fact that she wasn’t chattering, alerted him that she was already nervous about this meeting.
Good, she feared him. Now, if he could play up that fear, perhaps it would be enough to quell her pen.
Her sister crossed the room to stand beside her. Both women waited while he purposefully remained silent. Let them anticipate his words, then they would pay him more attention when he did speak.
“Miss James,” he began after a long pause.
“Yes,” they both answered in unison.
Honor blushed a becoming shade of pink. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking her sister’s hands. “You meant Serenity, of course. Go ahead, forget that I am here.”
Clearing his throat, Morgan wished again that they were alone. It was enough that one Miss James threatened his secret identity. Two of them being able to identify him was two too many.
“Back to our earlier discussion, I want to know the name of the man who gave you the Sea Wolf’s identity, and everyone’s name you have given that information to since.”
“His identity?” they answered together. They turned their heads to look at one another.