Loves' Conqueror. Renee Hand

your crew by keeping her safe. She will eventually understand. I will talk to her about her behavior. She does know better, believe it or not, though she is too stubborn to admit it.” Davy shook his head, his disapproval of Miranda’s behavior evident. Locand raised his arm to touch Davy’s shoulder.

      “How is our Captain Mayne? I have not spoken to him in months—surprisingly. The last time we were together we were arguing, and we had gotten into a fight. We usually do at least once when we are together for our opinions often clash, but soon all was forgiven. I miss sailing with him. The last time we sailed together I had joined him in the raiding of a ship. Its plunder was small, though the ship was massive. Afterward, we sailed to Tortuga and drank for days until the women had their way with us and our bellies were full and content. That was over a year or so ago. I miss those carefree days when there were no governors or laws on the islands that brought us so much pleasure.” Locand turned around and walked around the room, his back facing Davy.

      “Now, one of our most reliable sources for supplies and sailors is governed by someone who wishes to stop the piracy that used to go on there. Just wait, Davy, soon Tortuga will be next, then New Providence. Pirates will have no more places to go or to run. That is why we have to change our destinies now.” Davy cocked his head to the side, unsure of what Locand meant by his words.

      “Why must you change your destiny, my friend? You seem to be living a respectable life running errands for the queen. I am sure she pays you well to serve her.” Locand placed his hands behind his back, his muscular chest pushing forward. He turned around to face Davy, a crooked grin upon his face.

      “The benefits can be plentiful as long as I follow the rules. She has finally given to me what I have requested of her, a letter of marque. Now I can fight in the name of queen and country. Though if captured, it may not stop the old boot from killing me herself.”

      “Do you know of our business in Port Royal, Locand?” Locand walked back to the table and sat down into one of the chairs, not surprised by the slight change in topic.

      “I know enough information to keep me alive. The only thing I am curious about is who they are after in Port Royal. Lord Hammil has not revealed the name to me, though I am sure he will eventually tell me more about our mission when the time is right. My concern is that our plans have been changing before my eyes. I don’t like it. I feel there is a lot of secrecy about. Do you know what’s going on?” Before Davy could answer the question, Stevens opened the door and burst into the room.

      “Cap’n! Lord Hammil is requesting a word with you in private. He is causing much commotion and the men are displeased for being interrupted from their beds.” Stevens’ tone changed mockingly. “The man has only just realized that his amiable fiancée is being punished in your cabin. He says that he is in dire need of her assistance. I bet I know for what.” Locand and Davy both glared at Stevens, who suddenly closed his eyes and realized the words he had let slip out. After several seconds had passed, Locand turned to Davy, giving him a roguish smile. “He must not be as ill as I thought. To be continued at another time.” He then rose from his chair and followed Stevens. Davy followed them to the deck, his eyes falling upon the bright glow of the moon shining above them, illuminating their way. His thoughts were deep into the discussion between him and Locand. It was interesting to Davy, that Locand didn’t know they were after Stratton Mayne. He needed to keep that information to himself for the moment. The most important thing was that he had an ally to help him when the time was right.

      The week had passed slowly for Miranda. The cook would bring in her meals as ordered by Locand, but he never said a word to her, not even when she started the conversation. He merely dropped off the food and left the room. To her surprise and yet pleasure, Locand never returned to his cabin to talk to her or anything else. He kept his distance from her, which Miranda was grateful for. She couldn’t stand the man after the way he had treated her. However, after having plenty of time to think about her behavior, and the disrespectful way she had spoken to the captain, she did feel remorseful. She had no right to act the way she did toward him, though he had angered her.

      After Locand had locked her into his cabin, she had surveyed her surroundings. There was a table with several maps laying upon it, and a desk with a chair in the room. There was a large bed that took up a good portion of the space covered with heavy blankets and clean white sheets. The pillows were soft and yearned to be used. The first night Miranda refused to sleep underneath the sheets of the bed, but as the night became colder, she gave in and snuggled herself underneath their warmth. Her trunk was brought in and by the end of the week, she had laid her belongings all around Locand’s cabin. Her books now replaced the books that were sitting on the desk, and her trunk was now at the end of the bed instead of Locand’s. Some of his belongings were tossed to the far side of the cabin to make room for Miranda’s.

      She had figured that if she was to stay in the cabin, then it should be comfortable for her, not its captain. It wasn’t painful for her to stay below for the entire week--she was used to it from being on her father’s ship, but she did long to be on deck and feel the breeze upon her face. However, knowing that she could not go on deck, she had resolved herself to reading and writing. So every day she lay on her stomach upon the bed, with her thoughts consumed by the stories she read. A couple of times, out of sheer boredom, she walked around the cabin, looking into the desk and in Locand’s trunk. He had only clothes in his trunk, except for a few letters she found tucked between some materials on the bottom.

      Miranda had refused to invade the captain’s privacy to the extent of reading his personal letters. She knew it would be wrong of her to do so. She did, however, try on some of his clothes. He had many white shirts and breeches, which were folded neatly in his trunk with a couple of different colored vests and a waistcoat for when he wished to look respectable. She started to unbutton her dress, which was light brown in color with a low neckline and thinning waist. The sleeves were past her elbow in length and the skirt was long enough to reach the floor. She brought only one corset with her and she refused to wear it underneath any of her dresses while she was at sea and aboard a ship. In fact, she refused to wear petticoats, too, and her dresses were simple, light and comfortable.

      As Miranda removed her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a pile at her feet, she quickly grabbed one of Locand’s shirts and held it in her hand. The fabric was soft and thin. She had felt nothing like it before in her life. She brought the shirt to rub against her face and then down her arm. Wanting to know what the material would feel like on her bare skin she removed her underclothes and slipped on the shirt. The shirt was large on her and baggy, yet the length of the arms almost fit her perfectly as well as the length of the shirt. It was long enough to cover just past her buttocks.

      Miranda grabbed the collar and rubbed it against her cheeks as she pranced around the room spinning and dancing as she went. She stopped in front of the door to finish buttoning the shirt when she heard the door unlock. Panic filled her as she stood frozen to the ground not able to move.

      As Locand opened the door, the sight before him made him speechless. He was so surprised, in fact, that he almost stopped breathing. After several days of Lord Hammil’s pestering to let him see Miranda, Locand finally gave in, but only when the week was up. Now Lord Hammil was standing behind him, his hand fixing his hair so his appearance would be perfect for when he saw her, but Locand was not expecting a half-naked woman in his cabin staring back at him when he opened the door.

      His eyes quickly perused her appearance before Lord Hammil could see her. Locand could tell she was wearing one of his shirts; it hung low enough to cover her upper thighs but exposed everything else. Her legs seemed pale and soft, but as his eyes rose to her chest he could tell that she hadn’t quite finished the task of buttoning it. Four buttons were yet to be fastened and the open shirt exposed a healthy portion of her youthful breasts, her nipples covered by the shirt. Locand saw the surprise in Miranda’s widened eyes and knew it mirrored his own.

      Locand quickly closed the door and pressed his back against it, his eyes focusing now on Lord Hammil. “Is she in there, Captain? I am eager to see her.” Fortunately, Lord Hammil was too enthralled with his own appearance to notice Miranda’s. Locand exhaled a long breath, his mind pondering what to tell the man.

      “I noticed