Название | The Pirate Bride |
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Автор произведения | Shannon Drake |
Жанр | Зарубежные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“A frigate,” Red said. She loved her sloop, but a frigate…was huge. It could carry tons of powder, shot and guns. It could not give chase into the shallows or maneuver narrow channels. But it the open, it was deadly.
“You need to be staying away from him,” Teach said.
“You know why I cannot.” She met his eyes and asked, “Where did you see him?”
“He was heading north along the coast. I daresay he will hover near the towns and cities where he is honored by the British. Word is that he is looking for you, too. He believes that you stole one of his most valuable possessions.”
“How can anyone honor such a man? I do not believe the people can possibly know what a heinous murderer he is.”
He caught her hand. “One man kills, and he is a hero. Another kills, and he is a monster. It depends on which side of the battle line one is standing. You are a monster to some. When a man doesn’t see something with his own eyes, he doesn’t know what is truth, so he believes what becomes legend. Ah, come, girl. The average man wants only to live in peace, so he prays that conflict will not come his way. He is willing to accept the truth of what he is told is the rightful law rather than fight for anything that might disturb his world. Your monster is considered a great military commander by those with whom he does his business in England and the colonies. All anyone there knows is that he helped win the day for King William of Orange and the great empire. Had the war been lost, he would have gone down in history as an ogre. But the English crown was triumphant, and therefore, he is an honored man. Such is history, poppet. It’s the deceit I loathe. I don’t set out to kill a man. I do so because he is in my way and won’t get out of it. My reputation is far worse than my deeds. I prefer scaring a man into surrender. Sadly, there are good men out there ready to die for honor. I don’t relish killing them. And unlike Blair Colm, I do not butcher women and children.”
“As far as the women go, you just marry them,” Red reminded him with a grin.
“Why waste a lovely lass?” he inquired.
“Most of the children turn to piracy.”
“I ransom what children I can.”
Red looked down, smiling. She wondered what Edward Teach might have become, had he not wound up sailing the high seas. He did have a personal code of ethics.
“Of course.”
“And when no one wants them…I do them no harm. And I’ll have you know, they’re still hanging children all nice and legal in some ports for offenses not much worse than stealing bread. I’m not a cruel man at all, when you look at the world around me, and see what is done in the name of law and justice.”
“I’ve never said that you were a cruel man. You are a fine captain and swordsman, and you’re a wicked shot with a pistol,” she said in a tone of genuine compliment. He grunted his pleasure as she continued. “But you are a performer, with that black beard spewing flame and smoke.”
He wagged a finger at her. “You are the performer.” He shook his head. “And to think, if what I heard is true, that a little bit like you killed Black Luke.”
She shrugged. “Have you ever seen a tiny insect bite grow infected? Before you know it, a giant roaring fellow is down and dying of fever. Size is not always the deciding factor in a fight.”
“Well, I’ll take your treasure. I’m quite fond of a number of the trinkets, and I happen to be decently flush with pieces of eight at the moment.”
“And what of joining me?” she asked softly.
“That is another matter.”
“Oh?”
“You’re out for vengeance. I’m out for profit. And how did you come by this treasure, pray tell?”
“I came upon a merchant ship that didn’t have a prayer against me.”
“So you took the ship?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“You sank it?” he asked incredulously.
“No.”
“Oh?”
“We parleyed. I now have the captain with me, as my prisoner. He is a Lord Haggerty. Ever hear of the man?” Red asked.
Blackbeard leaned back, grinning. “Aye. I know the fellow. I’ve met with him in this very tavern.”
“But he isn’t a pirate.”
“No. Neither is he military. He sails a merchant ship.”
“Still, he is no outlaw. What was he doing here?” Red demanded.
“Business.”
“Treasure?”
Blackbeard laughed. “Nay, poppet. He came to sell what makes a life fine. The finest feather pillows. Silk sheets. Porcelain from China. Tea. Coffee. Apples.”
“And he wasn’t simply killed in the streets here?” Red asked, amazed.
“I had the opportunity to watch the first time he came. He strode in with his crew, right bold, and when he was challenged, he demanded that he be met man to man. After he bested three of the doughtiest fellows on the isle, I considered challenging him. But, I confess, I was intrigued by his brashness in dropping anchor in the bay, and then stepping foot on land. He was well aware, however, that no quarter would be given to him on the seas if he traveled with merchandise and was caught.”
“I didn’t give him quarter,” Red snapped.
“So he took you in through eloquence as well?” Blackbeard teased.
“He is my prisoner,” she said.
“Of course.”
She decided to change the subject. “So, I seek revenge, I admit it. And you seek plunder. If we were to go after Blair Colm together—”
“Poppet, give it up.”
Red groaned. “Good God, not you, too.”
He lifted her chin with his massive forefinger. “I will die on deck. I will die at the point of a sword, or by an enemy volley. That is how it must be. Until then, I will terrorize the sea, I will have a dozen more wives, and I will drink and challenge every man I meet, and mayhap even God. But you…that shouldn’t be your life.”
“Why not? I would rather die at sea than scrub another floor or be forced to bed some pox-ridden old man or die myself of his venereal disease,” she said, deadly serious.
“Ah, but don’t you dream of something better?” he queried.
“My dreams are of corpses on a battlefield, the blood of children slain,” she said.
He sighed and leaned back. “Sorry, poppet. I’m not suicidal. I won’t join my forces to yours, but I will give you gold and buy you rum, eh?”
“Cap’n Blackbeard,” she said, determined not to sound disappointed, “I will be honored to lift a glass with you.”
He shook his head. “Ah, and you speak like a lady, lass.”
“Maybe I was a lady. Once. Past memory, past caring. God knows, I was so young when the troops came. I remember…”
“Aye?”
“My mother,” she said, blushing slightly. “Aye, she was a lady. So softly spoken, so regal…but she is gone, dead and gone, and so is the life I was born to. There is nothing to return to of