The Mercenary Pirate (The Heart of a Hero Book 10) Page 2

  “Thirsty?” a grizzled man asked her. He laughed and upended his tankard over her head. “This should cool you off.”

  “You . . .” She tried to hobble away, but with her chained ankles, she couldn’t escape the ale that sloshed over her. She slipped on the floorboards and fell. “Oomph!”

  “Assez!” A man missing several teeth broke away from the crowd and approached the girl as she struggled to stand. “Enough,” he shouted again.

  “Diable!” Regaining her footing, she glared at the man who’d bathed her in ale.

  Her attacker turned his back. “You will learn not to steal my scraps, batârd, or you’ll never eat again.”

  “Watch out, Cuvier!” someone shouted.

  She wasted no time and leaped onto Cuvier, catching him by surprise, and pulled the chains dangling from her wrists taut around his throat. “You threw them to me!”

  There was a distinct inflection in her voice that indicated French wasn’t her native language. Bollocks. A foreigner, then. How far from home was she? She could be from anywhere in the world, but if she was from England . . . Hell, she might have been taught French as a member of the gentry or the peerage, which meant he couldn’t possibly walk away now, even if he wanted to. It didn’t matter that he had business of his own to attend to with Joanna or that he might finally receive the information he sought about his brother. Ignoring an Englishwoman’s welfare simply wasn’t the right thing to do. Hell, it wasn’t his nature.

  Cuvier tried to fling her off. When she wouldn’t budge and his eyes started to bulge, he bit her hand. She let go. He threw her down, gasping for air. “I’ll watch you dance over hot coals for this!” he shouted.

  Cuvier staggered, gasping for breath. Supported by his men, he lunged forward. Wolf stuck out his foot and sent the man sprawling into a group of card-playing gamblers, who’d been trying to ignore the ruckus.

  “Watch what you are doing, Diable blanc!” a man shouted to an artful swindler who grabbed his earnings and leaped to his feet with unusual speed.

  “Mon Dieu!” The devil raised his booty above the heads of the other men and then turned to glare at Wolf. “You owe me, Monsieur.”

  Men scrambled around the crafty sharker, but the gambler’s attention never wavered from Wolf. His fiery stare promised there would come a time when he’d collect his due.

  Get in line. Wolf glared back, unaffected. He puffed on his cigar and then shifted his attention to the girl.

  As if sensing his eyes on her, the girl looked his way, locking her incredulous gaze with his. Wolf’s breath caught as he found himself gazing into a pair of the stormiest gray eyes he’d ever beheld. Suddenly, the noise in the tavern quieted. His lungs squeezed, and alarm shot through him, the blood in his veins burning.

  Dauntless, the little heathen didn’t plan to back down. Like a bird fighting against the wind, she was determined to rebel against these pirates, including him, until she revealed her identity, or worse, breathed her last breath. Stubbornness would only get a person so far.

  He understood her desperation to be free and the crazed flicker in her eyes. But that wasn’t all he read there. A maddening intensity drove her, one he immediately identified with a mission, a search for something she’d never have a chance to accomplish unless she gained her freedom.

  That wouldn’t be easy, though. French corsairs were royalty in Saint-Malo. They’d been given the run of the place due to the many prizes seized by privateers and pirates in Napoleon’s name, helping to fund the despot’s quest for power and dominion.

  Wolf removed the cigar from his mouth and slanted a glance at the well-dressed man seated among the others nearby. He wasn’t anyone notable that Wolf could recall, but his clothing, comportment, and the way the men around him responded to his requests proved he wielded authority. As the other men threw scraps at the girl, taunting her, the leader chuckled, and Wolf had enough. Making up his mind to interfere, he plugged the cigar between his lips and crossed his arms over his chest to gain better access to the blades hidden within his wrist guards.

  Cuvier wiped his nose as he lumbered across the floor toward the girl. “Beg for my forgiveness and I might show you mercy.”

  “Ha!” She thrust up her chained hands. “You don’t have a merciful bone in your body.”

  Several men burst out laughing at Cuvier’s expense.

  “You’re an animal,” Cuvier said, “that needs to be caged.”

  “So you can strut about like you’re my master?” she spat.

  Wolf grew more impressed with her tenacity by the minute.

  “Your jailor.” Cuvier cackled. He clenched his fists, breathing heavily, and a look of retribution flickered in his eyes.

  “Combien?” Wolf shouted, wanting to put an end to their sport. When he didn’t get a response, he took his cigar out of his mouth and repeated his request more loudly. “How much?”

  Cuvier spun around and spotted Wolf standing in the crowd. “This one is not for sale.”

  “Every man has a price,” Wolf argued. He ignored Cuvier, choosing instead to address the disgruntled man enthroned at the table like an emperor surrounded by his devoted court.

  Joanna rounded the bar and walked to the man’s table, swinging her hips to and fro and garnering attention. She frowned at Wolf, then bent low and whispered something in the dictator’s ear.

  “Is that true?” he asked. At her nod, the man grinned and fixed his attention on Wolf. “Interested in that one, are you?”

  “I’m shorthanded,” Wolf admitted with a shrug.

  Cuvier advanced. “You promised the boy would be our amusement, Robillard.”

  “As far as I can see,” Robillard said, “he’s become too difficult for you to manage.”

  “He’s resourceful.” Surviving what she’d been through while maintaining a disguise was a fete in and of itself. “A skill I can use on my ship.”

  Robillard nodded and then leaned forward, eyeing Wolf curiously. “Come, Capitaine. You and I both know this boy is not fit to sail. Why so interested in him, eh?”

  “I happen to be in the market for a cabin boy.” He took his time placing his cigar back in his mouth.

  Chains rattled as the girl struggled against her captors and openly glowered at him. Alarm flickered in her eyes.

  “This one? He’s been nothing but trouble for us since the moment he was captured, Capitaine. I cannot recommend him to you.”

  “Bon débarras!” Joanna shouted with glee. “Sell and be rid of the mongrel, mon amour.” She raised her hands, encouraging applause. The crowd responded, clapping and whistling, but Wolf understood Joanna’s intention. She had a soft spot in her heart for children because her husband educated them in Dublin. And the sooner the girl no longer distracted Robillard and his men, the quicker Joanna could deliver her message to Wolf and he could disappear.

  Joanna whispered something else in Robillard’s ear.

  “Is that so?” Robillard asked. He put his arm around the barmaid’s waist. “You’re a naughty wench, ma chérie. This boy will not be better off aboard the Sea Wolf.” He considered Wolf thoughtfully. “You just told me its capitaine is a beast.”

  “Beast or no,” Joanna said in character, smiling, “what do we care if he takes the boy, mon chéri? We will have more time to enjoy other pursuits, oui?”

  Robillard considered her words for several tense moments before waving his hand in the air. “The boy is more trouble than he is worth. Cut him loose.”

  “But, sir,” Cuvier argued. “We—”

  “Silencieux!” The crowd hushed as Robillard bolted to his feet. “Do you dare to question my authority? I expect to be obeyed, Cuvier. My word is law.”

  Several men raised their fists and shouted in support of Robillard.

  Wolf approached Cuvier. “Rest easy.” He took a pull from his cigar and exhaled a cloud of smoke into Cuvier’s face, making it momentarily fade from view. “I have ways of dealing with unruly boys.”

  “Yo
u will regret this,” Cuvier said.

  “Untie him,” Wolf ordered, thinking the very same thing. But he couldn’t allow her to continue to suffer, not when the girl reminded him of the boy he’d once been.

  “We have not settled on a price, Capitaine,” Robillard said calmly, raising his palm.

  Joanna moved behind Robillard and slid her hands down his shoulders, molding her body enticingly to his. She whispered in his ear once more.

  Robillard’s response was instantaneous. His eyes widened, and his head snapped up. “Do you make a habit of buying inexperienced boys?” he asked.

  “That depends,” Wolf said.

  “On what, if I may be so bold, Capitaine?”

  “On whether or not my current cabin boy has outlived his usefulness.”

  Laughter rose about them as Robillard’s men caught Wolf’s meaning.

  “Aha!” Cuvier burst out laughing to boisterous applause. “Out of the kettle and into the fire, eh, boys?”

  Robillard raised his hand again, halting their merriment. “So the rumors are true.”

  “Rumors have their purpose,” Wolf said. “To frighten men and weaken opposition.

  I will do almost anything to keep anyone from suffering the way I was forced to suffer.

  “You avoid the answer, Capitaine.”

  “And you are wasting my time. Are you interested in getting rid of the boy or not?”

  Robillard considered him carefully, and Joanna grinned. The tavern quieted, save for the sound of chairs scrapping against the floorboards as sailors, prostitutes, and gamblers waited expectantly for Robillard’s next words.

  Finally, he raised his hand. The nonverbal order set his men into action.

  “Stay back.” Her gaze frantically latched on to Wolf’s. “Let me go,” she pleaded.

  Every muscle in his body primed for action as he watched the men roughly unlock her chains and then loosen them from her wrists and ankles. Her shackles noisily fell to the floor. She widened her stance and swayed on her bruised feet. She momentarily appeared vulnerable, folding in on herself as she rubbed the tender flesh left exposed on her slender ankles.

  Robillard snapped his fingers. “So we are clear, Capitaine, I do not want to see this boy’s face again.”

  The corsair’s men shoved her to the ground in front of Wolf. He ignored his impulse to offer her a hand as she scrambled back to her feet. If he showed any measure of compassion, he’d alert Robillard and his men that this “boy” was not who he appeared to be.

  Robillard’s eyes lit up greedily. “Now let’s talk price.”

  Chapter Two

  She had been sold into slavery again. Selina Herding glared bitterly at her abductors, fighting back the humiliation and overwhelming defeat that saturated her senses. Never in her wildest nightmares had she ever thought she’d be standing in a tavern filled with women who preyed upon intoxicated men and cutthroats who exploited innocents for coin—pirates.

  Her wedding day was supposed to have been a glorious affair. But it had come to a sudden halt when masked highwaymen—corsairs in disguise—had stopped her coach. They had subdued her brother, Owen, blindfolded them, rolled them into rugs, and then transported them to a ship in Portreath. What reason would pirates have to keep a miner’s daughter and his son? A ransom had been requested and paid, but they’d still been shoved into cages for a fortnight, neglected for the duration of a voyage, and then escorted to the auction block in Cadiz.

  Selina had sailed from Cornwall to Cadiz in a cage with other captives, never being given access to her brother. She’d managed to escape the auction where her brother had been sold when her captors’ backs were turned and their attention was elsewhere. She’d run fast and hard into crowded streets and down narrow alleyways. There, she’d exchanged clothes with a boy, altering her physical appearance. When efforts to return and find her brother had failed, and with no other recourse available to her, she’d snuck aboard another ship headed north.

  She shivered. God only knew what Owen was suffering at the hands of those corsairs!

  Unfortunately for Selina, her hiding place had been discovered by Robillard’s brigands before they’d made port. Stowaways were put to work or thrown overboard if they refused to obey. Thankfully, she’d survived, but before she could escape and locate another ship sailing to England, she was chained to the wall inside the Wasp like an animal along with one other boy. Only yesterday that hapless boy—Jimmy—was carried off, limp and lifeless.

  Hatred swelled inside her as she rubbed her chafed wrists. The bruised, raw flesh stung at the contact, making her wince. Pirates were nothing new to Selina. In Cornwall, smuggling was a worthy cause when one didn’t get caught and the lives of others were taken into consideration. But these filthy brigands were violent, greedy beasts who pilfered for profit no matter who or what stood in their way. Saint-Malo, France, was certainly not Cornwall.

  She bit her lower lip. Then again, Cornwall was where she had been first kidnapped.

  “I’m told you just sailed from Portugal,” Robillard said to the large burly man who’d bought her.

  The brute crossed his arms. Odd-looking steel accoutrements were woven into the leather wrist guards on his forearms. He stared long and hard at Robillard.

  “Aye,” he said, his posture solid, every inch of him primed for a fight. “What are your terms?”

  The barmaid glared at Selina over Robillard’s shoulder, her stare flickering ever-so-faintly with compassion. Or had Selina imagined it?

  She swallowed back the hope rising inside her. She couldn’t expect a stranger to offer any sort of sympathy. After all, Selina had been denied thus far. No one had ever stood up for her in her life other than her brother, Owen. But Owen wasn’t here. She was on her own. Whatever happened now depended on the amount of strength and determination she could summon from her breast.

  “Fifty boxes of figuerados for the slave or I’ll terminate our bargain,” Robillard announced.

  Fifty boxes of cigars? She glanced up at the captain of the Sea Wolf, praying he had the fee to barter and would agree to the terms. If not, she would find herself back at the mercy of Robillard’s ruffians.

  Selina bit her lip and lowered her head, trying to keep from saying something that would reveal her identity or make the situation worse, as their laughter hammered through her.

  The captain growled. “What makes you think—”

  “My final offer,” Robillard cut in. “The cigars or no cabin boy.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as heat radiated from the captain, and she picked up on something she hadn’t heard in his voice before—defiance. He meant to have her, come what may. The thought sent a combative sensation rushing through her veins. A man determined to take her out of this despicable place meant an opportunity to escape. She couldn’t avoid her captors if she was chained to a wall, but outside of the tavern . . . There, she would be beyond the control of Robillard and Cuvier, and she would have ample time to plot her getaway.

  She glanced up at the captain, saying a silent prayer that no matter what else happened, he wouldn’t back out of his offer.

  The captain puffed on his disgusting cigar. Smoke swirled about his dark head, masking his unreadable eyes. “If I give you my figuerados, I’ll have to sail back to Portugal to replenish my supply.”

  Robillard glanced at Selina, then cleared his throat. “That is not my problem, Capitaine. If you want this slave, you’ll pay my price.”

  Tension exuded from the captain in waves, making Selina wonder if he was actually going to withdraw his offer. She couldn’t allow it. She didn’t know how much longer she could withstand Robillard’s treatment without suffering the ultimate indignity these men would have in store for her if they discovered her identity—rape.

  “I see you are not interested in our bargain.” Robillard snapped his fingers. “Take him,” he said, pointing to several men standing to Selina’s right.

  The men strode forward.

  “
No!” Fear shot through her. She glanced up at the large man who’d bartered for her as her own father dealt with free traders who smuggled in his French brandy.

  The captain looked like a man of the world in his tricorn, dark leather greatcoat, and leather wrist guards laced all the way up to his elbows. He was the most dangerous-looking man she’d ever seen, including the one who had kidnapped her on her wedding day. She should know. She’d witnessed what pirates and corsairs did with the unfortunate souls who ventured into their paths. Certainly a man of the captain’s caliber, a man of the world, knew these brigands wouldn’t back down.

  “Please.” She reached for the captain’s arm and touched him, praying some sympathy would enter his predatory eyes.

  He jerked his arm away. “Bugger off,” he told her.

  The two men to her right smiled wickedly as they approached her. “Don’t let them take me back, Capitaine. Please!”

  He turned toward her, and his scowl terrified Selina to her toes. Good God, the captain wasn’t human! His facial hair was cropped close but was a bit longer down the sides of his jaw. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her like a wild animal, his mouth downturned in disgust.

  Her mouth went dry. What would this man do when he discovered she was a woman? She struggled to retain a grip on her sanity. Nothing she’d done to escape had worked thus far. He was her only way out of the Wasp, and she wasn’t beyond begging for her life at this point. If she didn’t survive, she would lose the one thing that meant anything to her in this world—Owen.

  “Attendez!” the captain said.

  What did he want to wait for? These men were going to kill her! Didn’t he realize how dangerous her situation had become?

  “I will not lower my offer, Capitaine.” Robillard lifted his tankard. Jolie bent over his shoulder to lift a pitcher, poured Robillard more to drink, set the jug down, and then resumed her docile place behind him.

  “I have a reputation to keep,” Robillard added.