The Prize. Brenda Joyce
heart skip wildly in fear.
His gaze lifted. “I haven’t seen a woman in pantalettes in years.”
Her color increased and a cruel comment made by Sarah Lewis when she had been in school in Richmond flashed through her mind: “Virginia, I hate to be the one to tell you, but those things are not in fashion anymore!”
The heat in her cheeks increased. She realized he had begun to climb up and she scrambled out of the hatch and into the hold where the ship’s crew slept.
She gagged as she hurried through, acutely aware of her captor an inch behind her, giving her no chance to escape. But she would have to escape, and soon, wouldn’t she? It was that or become reduced to being his whore.
Another ladder faced them. Virginia did not want to climb up first. The pirate lightly pressed her forward. “Go up, Miss Hughes.”
She dared to face him. “It is clear you are no gentleman, sir, but keep your eyes to yourself.”
An incredulous look crossed his face, followed by amusement, and for one moment, Virginia expected him to chuckle. “Miss Hughes, I am not interested in your charms.”
“Good,” she snapped, as her temper suddenly reared. “Then you can leave me on this ship and let me continue on my way while you rape someone else.”
He stared at her for a long, tense moment. “I told you that you would be my guest.”
“And I am to believe a murderer?”
His jaw flexed. “You may believe as you will, but I am not in the habit of raping my guests. Frankly, I am not in the habit of rape at all. Go up the ladder.”
“Then why?” she asked, confused.
“I am very tired of your insolence, Miss Hughes.”
Virginia saw that here, at least, was the unfettered truth. She hoisted her skirts and scrambled up, and this time she made certain she did not look back.
Above, clouds were scudding in the blue sky and the stench of death was everywhere. Virginia choked upon seeing five corpses of American sailors laid out neatly in a row, clearly about to be tossed out to sea. One of them was dear Captain Horatio. She fought genuine tears. He had been more than kind to her—he had, in an odd way, reminded her of her own father.
The rest of the American crew was shackled. Then she saw Mr. and Mrs. Davis, holding each other. She turned abruptly, suddenly furious.
“What will you do with Mr. and Mrs. Davis? Are they to be your guests, as well?” Her tone was filled with loathing and sarcasm.
“No.” He wasn’t even looking at her now. “Mac! Gus!”
A brawny seaman armed with two pistols, each tucked into his belt, two daggers and a sword hurried forward, followed by a slender blond lad, also heavily armed. Both men bore their share of blood, not their own. “Cap?” the redhead asked quickly.
“Gus will take Miss Hughes to the Defiance. Make certain that her bags accompany her. Issue the following orders—no one is to speak to her, look at her or acknowledge her in any way. She is my personal property, and as far as the crew is concerned, she does not exist. Am I clear?”
Mac nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Gus nodded grimly as well. Neither man looked her way, not even once.
Virginia choked in disbelief. She was his personal property? “I thought I was your guest!” she cried.
The captain ignored her, as did Mac and Gus. “Mac, you captain this ship,” the golden-haired pirate said. “Sail her to Portsmouth. We’ll take our bounty from the prize agent there. Drogo, Gardener and Smith will stay on board to crew for you. Handpick ten others. I will be following,” he said.
Mac blinked. “Yer comin’ with us to Portsmouth?”
He clapped a hand on Mac’s broad shoulder. “Our plans have changed,” he said flatly. “You will rejoin the Defiance in Portsmouth.”
“Yessir.”
Virginia, listening intently and watching closely, felt her heart sink. Why were his plans changing? She prayed that it had nothing to do with her.
And what did he intend to do with her? It crossed her mind then that she was well enough dressed for him to be thinking of ransoming her. On the other hand, Mrs. Davis was the one with the pearl necklace, the diamond rings and the expensive clothing.
The pirate said, “Mr. and Mrs. Davis, I suggest you go down to your berth. We have a fine nor’easter and we’re setting sail immediately. You will be allowed to disembark in Portsmouth.”
Clearly in terror, the Davis couple rushed past the pirate and disappeared into the hold below.
Now Virginia had a very bad feeling indeed. Why wasn’t he robbing Mrs. Davis? Her rings were worth thousands of dollars. A new fear—and a new dread—filled her.
The pirate started away.
“Captain O’Neill, sir?” Gus hurried after him.
O’Neill didn’t stop. “You may address Miss Hughes for the sole purpose of finding the location of her bags and escorting her to my cabin, Gus.” He did not look back at Virginia, not even once. He leapt onto the higher portion of the deck where clearly many of his cannons had done a great deal of damage to the middle mast and sails. Several pirates seemed to be about to attempt repairs to the rigging there.
“Lash the mainmast,” he commanded. “There’s good canvas below. Replace the main staysail. The rest can be patched. Put everyone on it. You have one hour and we set sail. I will not lose this wind.”
Virginia stared at his tall, arrogant figure, until she realized that someone was speaking to her.
“Miss Hughes, please, this way, Miss, er, Hughes.”
Virginia turned and faced the blond man, who seemed younger than herself. His cheeks were flushed and he was not looking at her, clearly taking his captain’s orders very seriously, indeed. “Where are we going?”
Still gazing past her shoulder, he said, “To the Defiance. Where are your bags?”
“In the cabin below,” she said, hardly caring about her baggage.
Gus turned, grabbed another young sailor, and sent him below for her luggage. Virginia found herself at the railing where a dinghy waited for her in the swells below. She hesitated, filled with desperation now.
He had said he would not hurt her. She didn’t believe him. She would be a fool to believe him. She dismissed the notion that he intended to ransom her, for he hadn’t looked twice at the wealthy Davis couple. What did he want? What could he possibly want?
The Atlantic Ocean was silvery gray, far darker than his eyes, and it looked as immensely threatening. One false step and she would be immersed in its frigid watery depths. It crossed her mind that another woman would jump to a watery death, saving herself from any further abuse.
She gripped the rail tightly. She had no death wish, and only a fool would choose suicide over life—any kind of life.
“Do not even think about it,” he said, landing catlike by her side.
Virginia flinched and met his brilliant gray eyes.
He stared back and he was very angry, indeed.
Virginia reminded herself to never forget that this man had acute senses—that he did not miss a thing—that he almost had eyes in the back of his head. Perversely, she said, low and almost as angry as he, “If my wish is to jump, the time will come when you will not be able to stop me.”
And he smiled. “Is that a challenge or a threat?”
She inhaled, struck hard by his look, his tone, his words. Something odd happened then. He was standing so close, he was so tall, so virile, so in control, and with the comprehension that