Beneath Black Sails Page 3

  Ah, that was what her smile was. Her whole manner, in fact. She was relaxed. Despite what she said about the stillness of ballrooms, she had this uninhibited air, as if she were utterly at ease with herself. Even her flirtation had no self-consciousness to it.

  His heart ached with envy.

  Her gaze had grown distant, and now her head cocked as a slow grin spread over her full lips. She chuckled and beckoned him closer. “Listen,” she murmured, jerking her head over her shoulder, towards the table of canapés and punch bowls.

  “… poor tablecloth! More spills,” a short, grey-haired lady said to a younger woman beside her. “What are they teaching girls these days?”

  Lady Lyons laughed. Not a giggle behind her hand but a full-on laugh. “She said exactly the same thing not ten minutes ago.” Sticking her nose in the air, she went on, “What are they teaching girls these days?”

  Despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitched.

  She shook her head. “I think she’s waiting there to say it to everyone who comes close.”

  “Well, at least we’re a safe distance from her trap.”

  A footman closed in on the punch-pouring-obsessed lady and murmured in her ear. Behind him, a lieutenant Knigh didn’t recognise sidled closer – perhaps a potential suitor for the younger woman. The punch-lady’s eyes widened, and she herded her companion away.

  “You know,” Lady Lyons said, fanning herself with her hand, gaze flicking back to Knigh from somewhere over his shoulder, “it’s rather stuffy in here and I appear to have forgotten my fan. How silly of me.”

  One-handed, she tugged on the window, but it didn’t budge. Another pull, her neck and shoulder cording, but still nothing. “I’m feeling quite faint.” Her chest heaved against her stays, the swell of her bust inviting above her neckline. “Would you perhaps oblige me, Captain?” The easy smile was gone now, leaving her expression as strained as the seams of her gown when she’d yanked at the window.

  Poor woman, she must have been overheating – ladies did wear a prodigious number of layers. Unusual that she was so muscular. Though it wasn’t uncommon for ladies to take up fencing practice in recent years.

  “Of course.” He handed her his empty glass, leaving both his hands free, and heaved the window up.

  Fresh, salty air swept in and Lady Lyons huffed a relieved sigh. She gulped deep breaths, then smiled, all confidence once again. She thrust both empty glasses at him so decisively, he accepted them without thought. Sitting on the windowsill, she peered down. “Not too far,” she muttered. “Oh, a creeper. Excellent.”

  Gods, she wasn’t about to jump, was she? Staring left and right, he put the glasses on the windowsill.

  Other blue and gold uniforms approached from all directions. The Governor’s daughter, Miss deLacy, strode towards them, delicate nostrils flaring.

  “Madam,” Knigh said, taking half a step towards Lady Lyons, “are you –”

  “Thank you so much, Captain Blackwood.” Lady Lyons flashed him a broad grin, all teeth and glittering eyes, before winking, gathering her skirts, and scooting off the windowsill and out.

  “Lady Lyons!” He grabbed for her, but his fingertips just grazed smooth silk. When he thrust his head out the window, instead of finding her bleeding, broken on the ground, he spotted her just below. She clambered down the woody branches of a climbing plant, swift as any sailor on the shrouds.

  What in the world was she doing?

  “That’s my gown,” Miss deLacy cried, drawing up beside him.

  Officers reached the other windows and flung them open, hands reaching for their sides where there were no pistols – this was a ball after all.

  “Your gown?” He frowned at her, then back out the window. Lady Lyons had reached the ground and was sprinting away into the gardens, skirts pulled up around her knees. “I don’t –”

  “Captain Blackwood,” the Governor’s low voice sounded from his other side, “I thought you were here to capture Lady Vice, not mind her punch glass for her.” Her blonde eyebrows and full lips sat flat, the picture of displeasure.

  “Lady Vice?” What was she talking about? That couldn’t be –

  “That was a very expensive gown we ordered from Lunden,” Governor deLacy said, voice level and low like a bosun about to give a raw recruit a good dressing down. “The ship bringing it was due in at the beginning of the week, but never appeared. Its captain was brought in today after quite an ordeal.”

  As Lady Lyons disappeared into the undergrowth, Miss deLacy glowered out the window, the expression out of place on her fine features. Once the pink satin had gone, she turned that glower upon him. Nothing about the look felt delicate. “He told a terrible tale about being marooned by Lady Vice.”

  Her mother crossed her arms. “Whom you just helped escape.”

  Knigh’s throat clenched as his stomach turned. His hands tightened into fists, knuckles aching.

  Oh, gods. Lady Lyons was Lady Vice.

  Victory

  “Perry, you should have seen him – poor thing had no idea what was going on.” Vice threw back her head and laughed again. She was aboard The Morrigan, pacing her friend’s small cabin.

  Her skin still tingled with excitement – no, not tingled, buzzed. “I wish I could have stayed to see when he realised who I was. I bet that would have broken his expressionless mask. Gods, it would have been too much.”

  Perry was sitting on her bunk, arms folded. She raised an eyebrow, but the corner of her mouth quirked, spoiling the effect of disapproval. “Good thing you didn’t. However much he was under the spell of your charm, I doubt he’d have hesitated to grab the notorious Lady Vice. Particularly not as she’d delivered herself so neatly into his lap.” Her mouth flattened, and she cocked her head.

  Beside her, Barnacle, the ship’s cat lay curled up. She opened one green eye at Perry, then closed it with a huff. The little grey cat was always on Vice’s side.

  “Oh, I wasn’t in his lap – more’s the pity.” She grinned and winked, shrugging off the pink satin gown.

  Now that would have been an achievement – bedding the very pirate hunter sent after her. And one so very handsome. Those shoulders, that chest, that height – at close to six feet herself, thanks to the fae blood, she was taller than a lot of men. Knigh Blackwood stood a good few inches past that, almost dwarfing her. Yes, he was a fine specimen.

  “I would ask if he was good-looking, but your expression says it all.” Perry sighed, shaking her head. “Besides the fact he’s got a pretty face, did you learn anything actually useful on your mission?”

  Vice looked up from untying her petticoats. “What?”

  “You know – the whole reason you took the risk of going up there? To get information about this pirate hunter. I can’t see that his looks are going to help us evade him.”

  “Oh, that” – Vice waved a hand and let the first petticoat fall – “well, he was easy to fool, I know that much. And” – that impressive figure straining against his dress uniform – she cleared her throat – “I wouldn’t want to face him one-on-one in a fair fight, so let’s not do that, right?”

  Huffing, Perry stooped and grabbed the discarded clothes. “I don’t think you understand, so I’m going to split this out into simpler terms and ask again. You risked your life by going up to the Governor’s mansion – a building full of naval officers – while there’s a sizeable bounty on your head, when deLacy has seen you and knows full-well what you look like –”

  “Ah” – Vice raised a hand and dropped the last of the petticoats – “she knows what I look like as a pirate.” She hooked her toe into the petticoat and kicked it up to her hand, brandishing it with a grin. “She’s never seen me in the lady getup.”

  “That’s still a risk –”

  “A calculated one.”

  Perry cleared her throat. “You risked all that and went and spoke to the very pirate hunter who’s here to capture you and make you see justice. Need I remind you, Albion’s id
ea of justice for piracy involves an appointment with the hangman?” With strong, calloused hands, she turned Vice around and pulled the bow securing the stiff stays. “He’s undoubtedly seen sketches of you and read descriptions.”

  Vice shrugged, breath easing from her chest into her belly as the stays loosened. She’d been wearing gloves, so there’d been no way he’d have seen the scar on her palm, and that was her most recognisable feature.

  “You did all this,” Perry went on, the cord whipping in her hands as she pulled it from the eyelets, “and your great insight is that he’s a strong young man in his prime who’s easily fooled by a pretty face? I’d call that an achievement if not for the fact it describes half the bloody Navy.”

  Vice examined her nails, cleaning a smear of leaf-green from under one. That wasn’t everything. Perry was selling her short. “You missed out the bit where I wore Miss deLacy’s stolen gown in front of her at the very ball she’d bought it for.”

  “Vice!” Perry said with such a forceful yank on the cord, Vice stumbled.

  “Look, Perry” – she spread her hands to placate her – “all I’m saying is that he was stunningly easy to trick. I have no concerns whatsoever that he’ll be any trouble to us unless we do something spectacularly stupid and let him get the upper hand. Even then, I’d put my money on us over him.” She shrugged. “Gods, I’d even bet we could take the ship from under his feet before he caught on.”

  And what a pretty ship it was. Prime rover gear, that. She pulled the stays off, leaving just a chemise.

  A vessel like that would serve her well. “Hmm.”

  “Ay-viss,” Perry said slowly, drawing out the two syllables.

  Avice. It shot through her, as sure as a pistol at point-blank range. Vice grimaced and clenched her jaw. “Don’t say that name.”

  “Sometimes it’s the only way to get through to you.”

  Vice turned, folding her arms and scowling. But she couldn’t keep the expression in place, not with the idea of taking the Venatrix burrowing through her mind.

  Perry narrowed her eyes. “What are you thinking? Whatever it is – no. Definitely not.”

  “Lucky for me, it isn’t up to you.” Eyebrows flashing up, she gave Perry a broad grin and scratched Barnacle behind the ear. The cat purred her approval. “And I have ways to make the Captain agree.”

  “It’s not fair of you to use your fae charm on him, and you know it.”

  “It’s not like I can turn it off and on – it just is.” She waved her hand vaguely. Perry worried too much about everything. “It’ll be fine. It benefits him, anyway. Hells, it benefits everyone, including you.”

  Lips pursed, Perry folded her arms – the picture of unconvinced. “And how do you figure that out? What exactly is it you want to persuade him of?”

  “If we take the Venatrix, he gets me out from underfoot – no more overshadowing him in the stories, no more songs about the ‘Pirate Queen’, I get a ship of my own, and –”

  Perry burst into an incredulous scoff. “You want to take the Venatrix, a pirate hunter? Are you – gods, you’re not even joking, are you?”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Pirate hunter. The clue’s in the name.”

  “Ha! He’s nothing to worry about – didn’t you just hear me say how easily fooled he was?”

  Inhaling slowly, Perry closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “He won’t be a second time – he must have done something impressive to make captain at such a young age. And to be stationed out here, not even under an admiral’s fleet. He can’t be an idiot. And besides, he’s seen you now – you won’t be able to get close to him like that again.”

  “Then I’ll just come up with a plan that doesn’t require it.” Vice shrugged and shed the chemise, the last of Miss deLacy’s layers. Sighing, she pulled on fitted breeches and a shirt with billowing sleeves. Thank the gods for that – normal clothes.

  And Perry had fallen silent – double thanks. Maybe she’d realised her worry was unwarranted.

  When she turned, Perry stood by the door, hands on hips.

  Vice winced. Maybe not. Definite lecture incoming in 3, 2 –

  “You’re seriously willing to wager other people’s lives on this?” Perry’s voice was low. “This pirate hunter has come halfway across the world after you. I asked around the docks – he has a reputation. Well-paid, they say – do you know what kind of pirate hunter is well paid?” She raised her eyebrows, chin jutting.

  Whatever Vice said, Perry was about to tell her. She lifted one shoulder – let her have her fun explaining. Who was she to come between Perry and a good lecture?

  Perry widened her eyes. “A good one. When he goes after a bounty, he gets it. Because he’s clever – don’t say it.” She lifted her hands. “I know you tricked him into a drink with you, and I bet you wish you’d bedded him, too, just to add to your tweak of his nose, but you caught him unawares. From what they say, he’s cunning – as sneaky as one of us. You only got one over on him because he didn’t even realise he was playing your game yet.” She leant against the door, folding her arms. “Out on the high seas – it’ll be his game, and he’ll be alert all the while. Our best course of action will be to stay well away.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Vice muttered, folding her arms.

  “Fun?” Perry stared at her, but instead of continuing with a half-shouted rant, she sighed and covered her face. “That’s what you really think, isn’t it? People’s lives could be at stake if we go after a pirate hunter’s vessel and all you see is the challenge, the fun, the chance to get a pretty ship.”

  Vice frowned, swallowing. Somehow those softer words hurt far more than any of the times Perry had raised her voice. “And my captaincy, which he’s been promising me for almost a year now – don’t forget that.”

  That was far more than just fun. It was freedom for her and whoever else ended up in her crew, hopefully, Perry. That was the most important thing – the only important thing.

  Sometimes FitzRoy’s decisions were downright unfair. His refusal to grant her the promised captaincy was a case in point.

  But not only that. He was so obsessed with Drake’s treasure, he’d pull them out of port to follow a lead before the crew had even had a proper chance to enjoy themselves and Perry had restocked the ship.

  And even when his decisions were sound, they were exactly that – his. He chose where they went, what prizes they chased, who occupied which positions in the crew, when they stopped at port and for how long, what the rules were on board.

  When she had her own ship, she wouldn’t have to rely on his decisions, his whims, or … him.

  Perry rubbed her face and let her hands drop. “And is your captaincy worth other people’s lives?”

  “Perry,” she said, rolling her eyes, “no one’s going to die. I do the risky parts, you know that. I always do.”

  Because what did it matter? She could die doing something apparently safe, like eating a bad batch of mussels. Any of them could die tomorrow doing the simplest task – even something that didn’t seem dangerous. At least higher risks had the possibility of higher rewards.

  “If something happens to me, it happens.” She shrugged.

  “And what about if something happens to you, and others – fools that they are – come running after you to help? Then what?”

  Vice scoffed. They should all know she’d be fine. She didn’t need anyone chasing after her, saving her – she hadn’t needed that in a long time. When she’d been young and stupid enough to believe she needed rescuing, the gods had taught her just how much of a foolish notion that was.

  Her thumb ran over the smooth opal ring on her left hand. She clenched her jaw for a second. “Then make sure they don’t come after me. I can look after myself.”

  Perry opened her mouth as if to reply but instead just sighed, shoulders sagging. “I give up.” She flung her hands in the air and stepped away from the door. “I’m not going to be able to cha
nge your mind. Go and speak to the Captain, then, see if you can get him on board with your ridiculous plan.”

  Victory.

  Grinning, Vice pulled on her boots. “Thank you.” She leapt up and gave Perry a rough hug. “Ah, you know I’ll take you with me when I get my ship.”

  A low sound came from Perry’s throat, almost a growl, but her arms fastened around Vice and she squeezed back. “I have the worst luck, it seems.”

  “Ouch.” Vice chuckled and pulled away. In an instant, Barnacle leapt up and draped over her shoulders. “You’d miss me if I left you.”

  Perry sighed, shaking her head. “Can’t live with you, can’t live without.”

  Laughing, Vice clapped Perry on the back and opened the door. “You could,” she said from the doorway, “it just wouldn’t be nearly as interesting.”

  In the Tides

  That woman. Knigh clenched jaw and fist until they both ached. How hadn’t he realised he was speaking to a pirate? And that particular pirate?

  Shortly after the Arawakéan Union invited the nations of Europa to trade, the surge in piracy had begun. Being smart, the Union had soon made it clear to Europa that the pirates were their problem to deal with. And for the past two years, Knigh had dealt with it rather effectively.

  Now Lady Vice had made him look like a novice.

  Glowering, he continued his stomp around the docks. His uniform – or perhaps his expression – sent men out of his path with salutes or bowed heads.

  He’d arrived at first light as the wharves woke to get information about her – where she’d docked, when she’d left, where she was going. That was assuming she had left. There had been no sign of her or The Morrigan when he’d ridden here from the Governor’s mansion last night. Still, it had been dark, and Port Royal had berths for over a hundred vessels, plus anchorage in the harbour for dozens more.

  Watching for a ship of that name was no guarantee anyway – The Morrigan could be here incognito, gun ports disguised. He had to give it to Vice and her captain: all the reports suggested they were cunning.