Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) (15 page)

Holcombe smiled knowingly at Lark. Lark wondered if everyone realized how much he cared for Marlee. Did the crew think she was anything more to him than a relation? He didn’t care for the men talking about him behind his back or wondering why he didn’t sleep in his own cabin. He hated their gossip to pass the time.

Maybe if they’d run across a pirate ship and actively get involved in a battle, then they’d have something else to think and worry about. He would, too. He was so aggravated with himself for constantly dwelling on Marlee, more than annoyed with Simon for having placed her on the ship in the first place. He’d welcome a sea battle, but he didn’t really want one—not when Marlee was on board. Just to imagine the harm that might come to her was more than he could handle. He’d welcome the day they arrived in New Providence and he could send her home again.

He needed to pursue his life.

Lark knocked at the door and heard Marlee’s weak, “Come in.” She was lying on the bunk with her head turned away.

“I heard you weren’t feeling well,” he began. “What’s wrong? Can I get you anything?”

“Nothing.”

Turning her face to him, he noticed she was very pale. A thought as loud as thunder echoed in his ears. Suppose she was carrying his child? “Marlee, are you, are you”—he could hardly say the words— “sick because you’re going to have my baby?”

Slowly, Marlee sat up, her dark hair spilled like black velvet across her shoulders. She eyed him in cold contempt. “I’m not carrying your child, I can assure you of that. And anyway, what difference would it make if I were? You don’t love me and wouldn’t marry me, either. So, you’ll soon be free of me and can go about your pirate hunting—or whatever it is you do. Please don’t worry about me.”

“But I do worry.”

Shrugging, she laid down again. “That’s because you have a guilty conscience, not because you care about me.”

Lark bent down, his mouth came so close to hers that she expected him to kiss her. But he didn’t. Instead, he whispered so lowly that she strained to hear him. “I care more than you’ll ever know, Marlee. And if you are carrying my baby, I’d make provisions for you and the child.”

Her heart screamed only that he love her, but she didn’t say that to him. “I have enough money to last the rest of my life. I don’t want anything from you, and if I were having a child, I wouldn’t ask you for anything, either.”

“Then—you’re really not—pregnant?” He truly looked disappointed.

“I’m not,” she answered in all sincerity, and for just a fleeting moment she almost wished she were. But her monthly flux had started that very morning, putting to rest any fears that she might be pregnant.

He stared down at her, causing her insides to tremble and flutter like a hummingbird’s wings. “Ah, Marlee, Marlee,” he breathed. “Why couldn’t things have been different for us?”

She didn’t understand why he asked this question. Why couldn’t things be different? What prevented him from admitting that he loved her? Did he love her? Uncertainty ate away at her all of the time now. His very presence intrigued and bewildered her. Her lips ached for his kiss, and she’d have welcomed it. But as always, Lark withdrew from her physically and emotionally when he moved away from her bedside. “I’ll send Todd to check on you later,” he informed her. “If you need anything, just ask him.”

“Thank you,” she dispassionately muttered. “You’ve been very kind to me, Lark, considering—everything.”

She didn’t think he was going to reply at first, but he seemed to give a moment’s reflection before he spoke. “I’d give you the world if I could, if there was only some way that I could make up for what I’ve done to you, I would. Maybe, someday, I’ll get the chance.” Turning on his heels, he left the cabin.

Blinking away the tears that pricked her eyelids, Marlee believed him.

“Ship ahoy!” The bellowing from the crow’s nest startled Marlee.

Until that moment the morning had been calm with a slight trade wind ruffling the sails overhead. She’d only been on deck for some five minutes with Todd as her companion. The crew had been diligently going about their chores, but more than once she’d noticed someone yawning and stretching from boredom. But now that a ship had been spotted, a surge of energy coursed through the men’s bodies, and they craned eagerly forward, their eyes alert.

“‘Tis a pirate ship, I’m thinkin’,” Marlee heard one of the men say. He pointed a bony finger in the looming ship’s direction. “Aye, I’ve seen that one before, I think, out of Santo Domingo two years ago.”

“Is it a Spanish ship?” Todd asked, breathless with eyes bulging.

“Aye. Someone better fetch Captain Lark.”

But Lark was already alerted. He’d quietly positioned himself behind Marlee. She felt his hand upon her shoulder before she saw his tense, drawn face. “Go below with Todd and remain in the cabin,” he said in a voice that was both a command and a request.

“But, sir, I want to stay up here for the fightin’,” Todd adamantly declared. “I don’t want to play nursemaid to a finicky female, not when there’s goin’ to be a real battle.”

“Do what I told you.” Lark emphasized each word, and Todd reluctantly made a move to escort Marlee from the deck.

For a second, she hesitated and looked directly at Lark, who didn’t seem to see her. His concentration was centered on the dark speck in the distance. “Is it Manuel Silva?” she asked him and noticed the high color in his cheeks.

“I hope so!” he answered raggedly. “God in heaven, I hope it is!” Then he was rushing away from her, barking commands to the men, overseeing the loading of the cannons.

Marlee followed behind a very disgruntled Todd.

~ ~ ~

Booming artillery fire from the pirate ship echoed through the air. Bracing herself for the hit, Marlee was surprised when she found herself still standing in the cabin. She ran to look outside of the porthole just as Her Ladyship answered with a resounding boom. “We’ve scuttled the pirate ship!” she exclaimed as the white sail was raised in surrender.

Todd nudged her aside to see. “Aye, she’s limpin’ bad,” was his observation. “What a pitiful sea battle this has been. One shot and ‘tis over.”

Marlee grinned ruefully at the lad. She was sorry for his disappointment yet very relieved that no one on Lark’s ship had been injured. “Maybe next time you’ll see some real action and not have to watch over a ‘finicky female.’ “

Todd glanced down at the toes of his boots and had the good grace to flush. “Forgive me, Lady Marlee. I shouldn’t have said any such thing.”

“Are you sorry you said it or sorry I heard it?”

“Both, I suppose.”

She couldn’t help chuckling. Todd was such a sweet young boy who yearned for adventure that she felt she’d probably have said the very same thing in his situation. “Well, let’s go on deck and see what’s happening. I’ve never been involved in a sea battle with pirates before, even if it has been a small one.”

Todd’s face brightened but then he dismally shook his head. “Can’t go on deck. Captain Lark wouldn’t be happy. You’re to stay in here and I’m to watch over you.”

“Watch over me on deck. We can hide so we won’t be in the way, and he won’t see us. Anyway, I’ve never seen a real pirate close up. Have you?”

Shaking his head, Todd was easily persuaded when Marlee left the cabin. Like two thieves, they sneaked up the stairs to the upper deck and concealed themselves behind large water barrels. They observed the bustling crew secure the damaged pirate ship to Her Ladyship by grappling hooks. Crewmen jumped to the pirate ship to take charge of the motley prisoners.

Marlee strained to see, craning her neck to get a better view of Lark. He waited on deck with arms akimbo. His dark hair blew about his face, and even at a distance she could tell that each pirate was the object of his withering gaze. She couldn’t help but shiver at his fierce stance or the way he assessed each individual man as he was brought aboard. She knew he was looking for Manuel Silva. And she also knew by the slight slumping of his shoulders when the last man had boarded Her Ladyship that Silva wasn’t among them.

“There’s gold on board, Captain,” Marlee heard Holcombe tell Lark. “It’s a veritable treasure chest we’ve confiscated. The authorities on New Providence will be pleased.”

“Good, good,” mumbled Lark who didn’t seem to care about the booty. He inspected the pirates, about six of them, who waited in a line. Two of them wore earrings in their ears and one had a woolen cap on his curly head of hair. They were all dressed in what Marlee discerned were clothes which had seen better days, and even from where she was hidden, they smelled in need of a good washing. But there was one man, a man who eyed Lark with utter contempt. Lark seemed well aware of the man’s attitude. “What’s your name?” Lark demanded of him.

The beady-eyed man regarded Lark in disdain but gave a yowl of pain when one of Lark’s crewmen yanked at his arm and brandished a small knife. “Answer the captain,” he ordered, “or I’ll cut your Spanish throat.”

The man gulped and complied. “Pedro Mendoza.”

Something like recognition flickered in the depths of Lark’s eyes. “I’ve seen you before, Pedro Mendoza. You were with Manuel Silva when he attacked my ship last year. You were his second-in-command.”

Mendoza grinned. “You have a good memory, English dog.”

“You have your own ship now,” Lark continued, oblivious to the slur. “Did you and Silva have a falling out? Do you know where Silva is now?”

Mendoza’s dark eyes glittered with devilment. “You’d like me to tell you, wouldn’t you,
señor
?”

“Yes, I want you to tell me.”

“I’ll tell you nothing about Silva’s whereabouts. But I will tell you that the cargo Silva stole from you has been well used. Very well used,
señor
, by all of us.”

“You bloody bastard!”

Before Marlee’s disbelieving eyes, Lark pounced upon Mendoza and started choking the life out of him. If Holcombe wouldn’t have intervened, the Spaniard would have died. As it was, after Lark was removed from the man, Mendoza laid on deck and gasped for breath. “Take the bastard to the hole,” Lark ordered and tried to compose himself.

One of the crew began to help Mendoza to his feet. The man looked pale and very weak. They headed past the barrels where Marlee and Todd were hiding, out of view from Lark. But Marlee could see every move the man made. In stunned disbelief she watched as Mendoza, in a startling display of strength, knocked the crewman to the floor and stole his knife. Then he turned in Lark’s direction.

Lark’s back was away from her as he discussed something with Holcombe. Her heart jumped in her chest because she knew what Mendoza had in mind. Todd rose up, realizing what was about to happen but it seemed he couldn’t utter a sound. Mendoza rushed toward Lark with the knife pointed in midair, ready to rip into the sinew and muscle. Suddenly Marlee heard her own voice, screaming Lark’s name in warning. At that instant, Lark jerked around and the second he saw what was happening, he instinctively reached for his knife at his belt. He seemingly avoided Mendoza’s thrust and kicked out at the man. Mendoza fell on the deck floor, and Marlee heard an agonized groan. He lay very still.

Holcombe bent down and turned Mendoza face up. His dark eyes gazed sightlessly at the azure-colored sky, and his unmoving hands clung to the knife on which he’d fallen.

Marlee ran to Lark, a frightened sob died in her throat. “What are you doing here?” he shouted at her and clasped his forearm. “Don’t you know you could have been hurt or killed? I told you to stay in the cabin. Where’s that Todd?”

The tears she wanted to shed evaporated in the harsh sound of his voice. She’d think the ingrate would have the good sense to thank her for saving his wretched life. “He’s over by the barrels, and don’t think you’re going to punish or yell at him. I wanted to come up here, and it’s a good thing I did, otherwise, you’d be dead right now.”

“Oh, so you think you’ve saved my life, do you?”

“Yes, and I’d think you’d be grateful to me instead of shouting.”

“I am,” he admitted with such sincerity that Marlee felt herself melting. “It’s just that I shout when I’m in pain.” He removed his hand from his shirtsleeve to show her a bloody splotch.

She grew a trifle dizzy at the sight of Lark’s blood. “You should have told me you were hurt. Mr. Holcombe, Captain Arden has been injured.”

Holcombe instantly tore a piece of lace from the collar of his shirt and fastened it tourniquet-style above the knife wound. “My advice is for you to rest,” Holcombe advised.

“No need,” Lark protested. “Only a knick. I’m not an invalid.”

“Stop being ridiculous and come with me to the cabin. I’ll tend to your wound and properly bandage it for you,” she offered. Marlee hated it when grown men wouldn’t admit that they were only human and pretended that pain didn’t bother them. She knew Lark’s wound must hurt.

Lark shot her a weak grin. “Promise me that you’ll stay with me, every moment.”

“I’ll make no promises to you, Lark Arden.” She didn’t mean to sound flippant but the very fact that he would say such a suggestive thing to her left her feeling weak-kneed—and it wasn’t because of blood any longer.