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Excerpt from
PLEASURING THE PIRATE . . .
Gabriel had survived the death of a ship. Before that, he’d acquitted
himself admirably in dozens of skirmishes in defense of King and
country. And once he turned pirate, his sword arm put the fear of his
wrath into the heart of every member of his buccaneer crew.
But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to defend himself
against his nieces. Not without harming them at any rate. They seemed so
fragile. It was the chivalrous chink in his armor the little vixens were
counting on and they weren’t disappointed. They swarmed over him in a
tangle of arms and legs.
Without knowing precisely how it happened, he found himself gagged with
an embroidered handkerchief and bound tightly to the stone settee. His
nieces were doing a fair imitation of an Algonquin war dance in a circle
around him. Daisy appeared briefly in his field of vision with a leering
grin and an armful of kindling.
She disappeared beneath the settee for a few minutes.
He wasn’t able to raise his head, but he thought he smelled sparks from
steel and flint. What a fool he was. He’d been sure Daisy liked him.
Obviously, he didn’t understand women at all. Even fledgling women.
“Captain, what be the meaning of this caterwaulin’?” Meriwether’s voice
boomed from the castle door.
Salvation!
And just in the nick. A wisp of smoke drifted from under the settee.
“My lord, what devilry is afoot?” Mrs. Beadle’s voice came next.
Gabriel tried to answer, but only managed a few disjointed sounds. The
hanky made a deucedly effective gag.
“Ach, Cap’n. Ye shouldn’t teach the children to play with fire. Might
burn the wee dears’ fingers,” Meri said as he kicked the small blaze
from under Gabe and stomped it to embers.
Mrs. Beadle caught the two eldest by the ears. “No, no, missies. None of
your running off or it’ll be the worse for you, I swear it,” Mrs. B
scolded, her round face flushed with exasperation. “You stay right here
and take your medicine, you little imps. Poppy and Posey, untie that gag
you’ve stuffed in your poor uncle’s mouth.”
Their nimble fingers freed his lips as quickly as they’d bound him.
Gabriel ran his tongue over his teeth trying to get the starchy taste of
the hanky out of his mouth. The twins fumbled with the knot by his ear
and finally gave up, shoving the rope that immobilized his head toward
his hairline, taking a layer of hide from his forehead with it.
He was able to turn his head now as the twins scrambled back to join
their siblings. Mrs. Beadle had released her captives and his nieces
were standing in their deceptively sweet semi-circle, hands folded
before their bodies fig-leaf fashion, eyes demurely downcast.
“I din’t bite him,” Lily said quickly.
“Maybe not, but it’s not nice to cook people either. Not at all the done
thing,” Mrs. Beadle said, with a shake of her jowls.
“Aw, Mrs. B., these little mites weren’t out to cook the Cap’n,”
Meriwether said. “Appears to me this whole thing was just a bit of high
spirits what got out of hand.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows shot skyward, but Meri tossed him a warning glance.
“Looks like a lesson gone awry. As a master mariner, the Cap’n has
plenty to teach his nieces about knots and such.” His first mate leaned
down to inspect one of the rope mazes still binding Gabriel to the
settee. “First rate double clove hitch there.”
“That one’s mine,” Daisy said modestly.
“And a right good job ye made of it, darlin,’” Meriwether said as he
pulled out a frog-sticker and slashed Gabriel’s bindings. “Now as no
blood was let, I don’t see as there’s any call to punish the poppets. I
reckon ye’re of the same mind, aren’t ye, Cap’n?”
Gabriel sat up and rubbed his wrists, casting a dark glance at the
girls, one by one. Hyacinth arched a cynical brow at him and looked
away. Daisy gave him an apologetic shrug. The twins blinked owlishly and
edged closer to each other. Mr. Meriwether’s excuses notwithstanding,
Gabriel was about to demand punishment for the little heathens when
Lily’s chin started to quiver.
He might as well give himself up for lost right now and be done with it.
“No, Mrs. Beadle, Meri’s got the right of it. We were just having a bit
of fun. No harm done.” He waved the housekeeper off. “The girls and I
are fine.”
“Well, then, my lord, if ye’re certain . . . ,” Mrs. B. said, not
sounding the least certain herself. She dropped a shallow curtsey. “I’ll
be off with myself then. There are cherry pies in the oven that need
tending.”
Meriwether watched her go with a look of naked admiration on his craggy
features.
“What’s this?” Gabriel demanded. “Are you ogling my housekeeper now? I
didn’t think you and Mrs. B. were getting on so well.”
“Aye, not yet, we’re not, but she’s a widow, ye ken. Oh, she’s
strong-minded and a bit broad of beam. Not that I ever held extra flesh
against a woman,” Meriwether admitted. “But, I’ve been smelling those
pies all morning. She’s a goddess in the kitchen, is Mrs. Beadle. A man
can overlook quite a bit if there’s cherry pie in the offing.”
Gabriel chuckled, and then turned back to his nieces who were still
standing there hanging on the exchange.
“Perhaps you’d better thank Mr. Meriwether,” he advised them. “He’s the
one who saved you from Mrs. Beadle’s wrath. If it had been left to me .
. .” Gabriel let the threat dangle unspoken.
One by one, the girls murmured their thanks as they eyed the old pirate
with horrified fascination. Meri ignored them, cleaning his snaggled
nails with his dirk.
Even Gabe had to admit, his first mate was an unlikely savior. With his
gold tooth glinting and the honorary tribal tattoo sagging the leathery
skin of one cheek, Joseph Meriwether must seem a fantastical creature
from the ends of the earth to his nieces. Even the intrepid Daisy was
too aghast to speak much above a whisper.
“It’s passing strange that you should be their champion, Meri,” Gabriel
said. “I would have said you weren’t fond of children particularly.”
“Oh, I like children fine,” Meri said with a pointed look at the girls.
“Boil the pith out of ‘em for an hour or so and they make a right
tolerable stew.”
Gabriel decided the girls’ squeals of terror as they hoisted their
skirts and ran almost made his near-roasting worthwhile.
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ISBN-13
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