Pleasing the Pirate: A Loveswept Historical Romance (3 page)

“You’ve come to the right place then if it’s me you’re looking for.”

Her eyes continually moved, never resting long on one thing before flitting to the next.

“Where’s my pistol?” she asked.

“In my cabin right where you dropped it.”

Her gaze finally settled on his filthy boots.

“Why don’t you tell me what you need,” he said.

She looked up at Ezra, who was still staring at her as if she were a mermaid they’d pulled from the ocean. Ezra was one of the best men Phin had on the ship, and certainly one of the best shots. But for all of his prowess on the sea, he was a bit uncomfortable around women. They made him nervous.

“Ezra, find a swabbie to clean out my cabin and bring me another pair of boots.” When Ezra didn’t move, Phin snapped,
“Now.”

Ezra jumped and scurried off.

“We’re alone now. No one to bother us. What brought you to the
Wanderer
?”

She lifted her small, pointed chin. “I need your help.”

“Ah. That’s a bit different than
I need you
.”

The color that recently returned to her face receded a bit and she pressed her lips together.

“I’m simply having fun with you, lass. No need to get prim and proper for my sake.”

Her hands fluttered about, readjusting the folds of her skirt, hiding her trim ankles as she
pulled her feet beneath her. She pushed a curly lock of auburn hair away from her dark eyes.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I need to find my brother and I understand you might be able to help with that.”

“You do, eh?” What the hell had she been told about him?
Damn you, Sebastian
.

“He’s being held by the English.” She said the word “English” as if it were a curse word, which riled him a bit, but he supposed that was to be expected. She was a McFadden, after all.

“And who is your brother?” Phin asked Mairi.

Mairi had thought this man could help her. Rumor had it he held a soft spot for a woman in distress and that he was feared by the Scottish and English alike. When James, one of the few men who worked her land, told her of Captain Phin, she’d been convinced he was exactly what she needed, but now she was beginning to rethink that.

He loomed over her, his excessive height blocking the morning sun and causing her to lean back and get a crick in her neck from looking up at him.

The ocean breeze ruffled his overlong hair, teasing the ends. He planted his feet wide, the pose giving him the appearance of being enormous. He was … too much. Of everything. And he made her uneasy.

She scrambled to her feet.

This was the tricky part. Asking an Englishman—even if he was a pirate—to help her find someone who fought against the English during the uprising. She prayed James had been right when he sent her here.

“Grant McFadden.”

“Grant McFadden is your brother?” he asked quietly after a short pause.

She nodded.

He crossed his arms. “That’s asking a lot, little lady. Grant McFadden is accused of treason.”

“I know.”

“And yet you think I will want to help you find him?”

“I was told you might be amenable.”

He raised a brow. “Amenable, eh? And who might have told you that?”

“His name is James and he works on my land. He’d heard rumors of you and thought you might be able to help me locate my brother. He’s being held by the English and I need to release him.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling him of the crumbling castle. Of the
fields that lay fallow, of the hungry look in their clansmen’s faces. And of the visitor that darkened her doorstep, triggering her search for Phin.

Since her da’s death during the last uprising, Mairi had tried her best to keep everything together, but the clan needed their laird. Except their laird was being held in an English prison.

She hid her trembling hands in the folds of her gown. Her stomach was still sour, the ship’s movements not helping. Quickly she glanced down at his boots and barely stopped herself from wincing. Not the best first impression and certainly not fear-inspiring to vomit all over his boots.

“Who told you the English were holding McFadden?” he asked.

“Grant wrote to us and said he’d been taken prisoner.”

Phin leaned a hip against the railing and contemplated her. Mairi lowered her eyes, unsure where to look. Every place her gaze landed—from the tight breeches to the opened coat, to the tanned expanse of chest and the muscles that marched down his stomach to disappear into his breeches—seemed inappropriate. And they made her stomach do funny things.

“When was the last time you heard from your brother?” he asked.

“Three months ago.” It’d been the first correspondence she’d had for four years and the first time she’d had any idea where he was.

Phin’s fingers beat a silent tattoo against his upper arm. “Why do you want to find your brother now after so much time?”

Mairi bit her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. She was a proud Scotswoman, too proud to admit she wasn’t capable of running the castle and the everyday business it entailed. But when her family members began going hungry and babes began dying because there was no food, Mairi learned the art of burying that pride.

And then there was that other business with her neighbor.

“The clan needs him.”

“The English abolished the clans.”

His words caused a stabbing pain in the area of her heart. “I’m well aware of what the English allow and do not allow, Captain, but people still need to eat.”

He tilted his head and studied her from head to foot, his glance lingering, causing goose bumps to pop up along her arms and legs. She resisted the urge to rub the goose bumps away. She didn’t like her reaction to Captain Phin.

“Freeing a prisoner is dangerous business, lass. What do I get in return?”

“I have coin and a few family gems.” She’d expected to bargain for his services, but even so, his asking made her uncomfortable. Normally it would be the laird who bargained, but she supposed she was the laird now in place of her brother.

“How much coin?” he asked.

Now, this was the pirate she’d expected. To the point. Greedy for coin. She felt like she was a little bit back on even ground.

“Fifty pounds.” The clan had donated every farthing, every ha’penny they could afford to give. It was everything they had.

Captain Phin barked out a laugh. “You best have some very good quality gems, then, if you hope to employ me.”

Mairi’s heart sank. Everything she had was sewn into the hem of her gown.

“The gems are family heirlooms. I’m told they’re worth quite a bit.” She’d never been told any such thing, but he needn’t know that.

He made a sound in his throat that expressed the doubt in his eyes.

Her shoulders drooped and unexpected tears blurred her vision. She sniffed the tears away. She was a McFadden; she would think of something. She had to.

After the uprising of ’45 many of the clan lairds embraced the English way of life. They raised rents and even pushed people off the land they’d lived on for generations in order to increase farmable land. As a result many of the clansmen had nowhere to go. Men flocked to England’s military, leaving the women behind.

The women and babes found their way to Mairi and Clan McFadden, desperate, lonely, sad and hungry. Mairi couldn’t turn them away. She simply didn’t have it in her when she looked in their defeated eyes or heard the starving cries of the infants. The problem was that many of her own clansmen had either enlisted in the English military or left for better prospects in the American colonies. So it was that Mairi found herself with more women than men, and more babes than women. They needed a true leader to find strong men to till the land and mend the homes.

“What is your price, then, Captain?”

“More than you possess, I’m afraid.”

She looked up at him. There was interest in his gaze, a lust she’d seen in other men when
they looked at her.

“What if I offered something other than coin?”

His lazy gaze sharpened. “What are you saying, lass?”

Don’t do this, Mairi. There are other ways
.

But there weren’t other ways. They had no more money. After this winter they would have no more food. And they were running out of hope. She’d promised her clan she would do whatever it took to bring Grant back.

Whatever
it took.

She swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I’m saying I have nothing else to give you. Save myself.”

He contemplated her, not in interest as she’d assumed. Or even lust, as she’d seen so many times in other men’s eyes. But seriously.

“That’s a steep price you’re willing to pay.”

“I need to retrieve my brother.”

After a few tense moments, Captain Phin nodded and held out his hand. “Shake like a gentleman, then.”

Mairi stared at those blunt fingers, the trimmed nails, the calluses from years of sailing. Slowly she raised her hand and put it in his. Long fingers curled around hers. Instead of shaking, he raised her hand to his lips, turning it to place a kiss in her palm. A shiver raced up her spine. Her breath became suspended as her gaze met his, stormy like the clouds that raced across the highlands.

“It’s done, then,” he said softly, releasing her hand.

She couldn’t help the sick feeling that crept over her, but this time she felt sick with disgust. She’d sold herself to a pirate. An
English
pirate.
Think of Grant. Think of poor Sinead, dead in her grave after only a few months of living because you couldn’t afford to keep her family fed
.

“Done,” she said, nearly choking on the word.

“Let me change my boots, lass, and give a few directions to my men before we talk.” He eyed her closely. “Dare I ask if you’re able to tolerate a bite to eat?”

“A wee bit maybe.”

“Right.” He turned on his heel and motioned to a crewman who’d been hovering, holding
a clean pair of boots.

Phin leaned against the rail, pulled his soiled boots off and held them up with a look of distaste. “Damn, but these were my favorite.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Mairi said, embarrassed all over again. “I never thought I’d be seasick.”

He looked over at her, still holding up the boots. “You best get control of your wayward stomach, then. We’ll be setting sail shortly.”

She pressed a hand to her protesting stomach and winced.

Phin smiled. He had straight white teeth and a mischievousness usually reserved for recalcitrant lads. This was no old man who’d sailed the seas for decades.

You sold yourself to him. Holy Mary and Joseph
.

Phin pulled on his new boots, stomping into them as he gave orders to Ezra to ready the ship for sailing.

“What about her?” Ezra asked, lifting his chin toward her.

“She will accompany us to London.”

Ezra’s face tightened and Phin squeezed his shoulder. “All will be fine, mate. All will be fine.”

Ezra moved off, looking none too convinced.

“The men are superstitious,” Phin explained to her. “Women on ships are bad luck.”

But Mairi was barely listening. “We’re going to London?”

He shot her an odd look. “You did say you wanted to retrieve your brother, didn’t you?”

She’d assumed Phin would drop her off at the nearest Scottish port and she would wile away her time waiting for him to return with her brother. She never thought she’d actually
go
to London. She’d never been there before. Never stepped on English soil. Never wanted to. Her memories of anything English were nightmares she’d forever remember. Soldiers marching through Scotland burning her land. Grant’s fiancée’s broken and bloody body.

She turned to the ocean and lifted her face to the brisk breeze, hoping it was enough to blow the memories away.
Oh, Grant, what have you forced me to do?

“Come, lass.” Without waiting to see if she would follow, Phin headed toward his cabin. His steps were sure, those slim hips rolling with the sway of the ship. His hair fell long past impressive shoulders, pulled back in a queue and tied with a red ribbon.

He stopped at the door to his cabin and looked back at her impatiently.

Oh, good Lord. I’m doomed
.

Phin pulled out a chair at the small table in his cabin and motioned for Mairi to sit. She settled into it, smoothing her dirty skirts with shaking hands while Ezra entered with a tankard of weak ale and a thick slice of bread and placed it before her.

She shot him sideways glances.

Mairi looked down at the bread, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Thank you, Ezra,” Phin said without taking his eyes off her. “Leave us now.” Ezra scurried out but not without a long, wary glance at Mairi.

So this was Grant McFadden’s sister. He had to admire Sebastian for following through with his plan. How he did it Phin didn’t know, but he knew from past experience that Sebastian could work magic. Phin had never personally met McFadden but he’d heard stories. The man was driven in his quest to destroy England. Was the sister the same?

She didn’t seem to be, but he’d known her all of an hour so he wasn’t willing to make that decision yet. However he was definitely intrigued. The longer he was in her company, the more he wondered how he could have possibly thought her a young girl. She was definitely no girl. He guessed her age to be about twenty-three or so. Her hands were work worn, her skin covered in freckles indicating she worked in the sun as well. He’d been with women of quality and women who scraped by for a living. He’d been with English women, Indian women, Caribbean women and women from the American Colonies. And, yes, he’d been with Scottish women, but none of them intrigued him the way this lass did.

Sebastian had given very little information to Phin, only that she would come to him and he was to bring her to London. How she came to be on his ship was something he would soon discover if only to slake his own curiosity.

She glanced up at him then quickly away when she saw he was watching her.