A Pirate's Ransom Read Free Page B

certain there is at least one among you who would be competent enough to deliver a message to the Duke of Devonshire. Kindly advise His Grace that if he wishes to ever see his lovely bride again, he shall pay a pirate’s ransom,” the pirate lord’s powerful voice commanded.
    “Beggin’ yer pardon, Sir,” Smith muttered, taking a tentative step toward the pirate lord, “but do ye mind tellin’ us wot amount a coin a pirate’s ransom be?”
    “Ah, Smith, there you are. You have been most helpful in assisting me here today, and your reward awaits you aboard The Lady . As for His Grace, Wentworth Simmons is quite aware of what my ransom demands are. Now, Countess, would you care to extend an invitation to any others to accompany you before we depart?”
    My mouth dropped open as I watched the wiry Mister Smith, my betrayer, scamper across the plank and onto the huge pirate ship. Snapping my jaw closed, I allowed my eyes to sweep the remainder of the crew and I dared a glance once again at my father, whose gaze met mine briefly. But in that scant moment, I recognized his silent plea, begging me not to name him.
    Realizing the pirate lord awaited my reply, I uttered softly, “No, Sir. Just my maid, if you would be so kind.”
    “Very well, Milady, as you wish.” Without another word, he strode off, his large frame disappearing into the setting sun.
    Rough hands grabbed me and passed me from hand to hand, lifting me high into the air above their heads, like a sack of grain being carried across the plank that rested between our tiny ship and the grand pirate vessel.
    My teeth jarred as I was set down roughly upon the deck, and finding my balance, I turned just in time to see the plank being pulled away from The Tempest . My chest heaved and my breath came rapidly from scrambling and trying to pull away from the grasp of the vile Mister Taylor. His fingers tightened like irons around my arm, and the helplessness of my situation tightened its grip around my heart. I gazed upon the stark and drawn face of my father standing among the crew, helpless on the deck of the disabled vessel, and fear nearly closed my throat, choking off my breath.
    “Wot o’them others, Captain?” Mister Taylor asked, following my gaze.
    “Leave them,” the eloquent Captain called back over his shoulder as he strode away from us.
    My limbs shook, and I couldn’t bring myself to face my captors. My heart hammered and I tried to rein in my fear. Mustering a measure of courage, I chanced a sideways glance through lowered lashes at the pirate lord.
    My hooded eyes followed him and although his back was to me, I was surprised to find he was not at all what I expected. I thought certainly he would be dirty and covered in filthy rags, much as his crew, but he wasn’t. He stood at least a head above any of his men and wore a clean, stark white shirt, which clung to his broad shoulders. His raven hair gleamed in the sunlight, despite the fact that it was tied back in a black ribbon, and his long legs were covered in dark trousers that seemed to stretch downward and melt into the tops of shinny black boots. No, he was not what I expected at all.
    But when he neared the passage descending into the bowels of the ship, he turned to face his crew and despite my shaking knees, my breath caught in my throat and it was all I could do to stifle a gasp. Handsome was not the word to describe the man who faced me, for it would fall short in telling of the look of him. His deeply tanned face was smooth and clean-shaven, perfect but for the thin scar gracing his left cheekbone and spoke of an underlying danger that only added to his appeal. What really struck me though and held my stare were his eyes ... deep green, sparkling as the sea and framed with the haze of thick dark lashes. His lazy gaze wandered over me, and a tiny hint of a grin captured just the corner of his lips when his eyes finally met mine. Drawing his attention away from me, he called out orders