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Authors: Cheryl Howe

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As the
Integrity
reached the open sea, Nolan’s
troubled thoughts faded. Under the task of helping his crew learn the ropes,
even the slow going due to the men’s inexperience didn’t detract from Nolan’s
pleasure at being under a rippling sail and fighting a changing wind. His
happiness proved short-lived, however, when a British man-of-war on their
starboard easily overtook them.

A speaking trumpet was used by the captain of the
Neptune
with a request to come aboard. Nolan took it for what it was: a command rather
than a request. Considering the skill of his crew, outmaneuvering the British was
not an option. Besides, tension ran high since Lexington and Concord. Any
further resistance shown by Colonials was likely to ignite an incident. Though
Nolan was anxious for war, he didn’t want to be the fuse that set it off.

The Second Continental Congress had recently convened and
provisions for an army would be one of its main topics. In a meeting with the
Sons of Liberty before he’d departed to retrieve the map, Nolan agreed that
restraint would be best until the more conservative colonies could be brought
into the line of thinking of the more radical Massachusetts. Many held out hope
for a peaceful reconciliation with England while others, like Nolan, already
realized an armed conflict was the only solution.

Wayland marched up to Nolan, distracting him from his
study of the
Neptune
. Even if he had not been persuaded to refrain from
open hostility, the firepower of the British vessel would have dissuaded him
from taking them on. The man-of-war outgunned him thirty-six cannons to
eighteen.

“What the hell ye be doing? I woke up from me nap to find
a warship cuddled up next to us. Man your cannons, boy,” yelled Wayland
directly into Nolan’s ear.

Nolan rubbed the offended appendage but remained calm.
“This is a peaceful boarding, not a battle.”

“What was all that talk of freedom and war about? You
ain’t going to get what you want if you roll over and show your belly.”

That Nolan somewhat agreed didn’t help his mood. “Once all
the colonies agree that armed conflict is the only way to solve our grievances
with England, I’ll be more than willing to act. For now, we keep the peace as much
as we are able.”

“You’re a disgrace to your grandfather. I can tell you that.”
Wayland shook his head and stomped off. Nolan could only pray he intended to go
below to avoid the British.

A rope ladder was tossed to the waterline, and Nolan stood
with hands clasped behind his back while he submitted to several burly sailors
heaving themselves over his ship’s side. An instinct from his old life urged
him to reach for his sword, but all he had strapped to his waist now was a
sharp knife used for cutting rigging in emergencies. When he’d sailed with
Bellamy, they’d never let another crew board their vessel. Now, regular seamen
hauled their superior officer, a bloated, blue-coated lieutenant, onto the
deck.

Lieutenant Greeley swung his jaundiced gaze in Nolan’s
direction, and Nolan knew this to be the first true test of his reformed
nature. He would not order Greeley cut down. He took consolation in the fact
that the marine officer, Devlin, had not joined this particular boarding party.
Not that that was likely, since marines were only used for land missions.

Nolan mustered every last shred of self-control he had and
met Greeley’s hostile recognition with a placid gaze. More important than
proving to himself how much he had changed, staying calm and conciliatory was
good common sense. A battle would be a massacre. Even still, a pirate would rather
die than submit to this type of authority.

“Captain, is it?” Greeley buttoned his blue coat over the
bulge in his middle and looked down his bulbous nose at Nolan—quite a feat,
considering Nolan stood a head above him. Apparently that was all the acknowledgment
Greeley thought he deserved. “Very well. Call your crew on deck. Let’s see what
you have.”

“I’ll see your press warrant, sir.” Nolan almost convinced
even himself with his bland tone that being ordered about didn’t bother him.

“But of course, Captain.” Lieutenant Greeley made a show
of reaching in his pocket and gallantly handing over the papers. “Can you read,
or shall I read them for you?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Nolan quickly scanned the document,
before instructing Parker to assemble the crew.

Greeley spoke up. “I’ll send my men to assist your crewman.
Once our arrival is made known, sailors have a way of becoming scarce.”

One particular member of his crew whom Nolan wished would
hide appeared. He snatched the document from Nolan’s hand. “Let me see that.”
Wayland stared hard at the press warrant with his good eye.

Nolan suspected the flowing script was unintelligible to
Wayland, because Wayland’s brown eye bobbed up and down instead of left to
right.

“By what right be you stealing our crew? You pudding
eating lads ain’t at war with Spain again? If so, I might be joining ya. Got a
debt I’m owing to a Spaniard.” Wayland leered at Lieutenant Greeley with his ice
blue eye.

Greeley stepped back. “What’s the meaning of this, Captain?”

Nolan retrieved the press warrant from Wayland. “That’s
what we would like to know, Lieutenant.” Since Wayland had raised the subject,
Nolan might as well know if, indeed, the British had declared war on her rebellious
colonies.

“You’ve no right to question the king’s emissary, young
man. You colonists need to learn your place. Too many fine English lads have
died defending your land, and now it’s time you contribute to our efforts.”

Nolan lifted his gaze, pinning Greeley with a direct stare.
“I thought we were all English. Are you saying otherwise? If that’s the case,
your warrant isn’t valid. It only calls for the taking of English citizens.”

“I’m in no mood to mince words with you, Captain.” Greeley’s
face reddened.

Nolan stepped closer, towering over the lieutenant. If he
could use his intellect to sail away without losing a man, it would be worth
angering Greeley. Many of the men Nolan had known as a pirate had started their
careers at sea as impressed sailors in the Royal Navy. The harsh discipline and
endless hours of grueling work had prompted many to throw their fate in with
the Brethren—when they could escape with their lives, that was.

The crew lined up on deck, and Nolan realized he could not
afford to lose a man among them. He reread the press warrant, looking for a way
to outwit its authority. A clause stated the
Neptune
could only impress crew
from ships returning to port, not ships leaving port. Nolan smiled, tasting
success. The sound of a scuffle broke his concentration.

“This one was hiding in the galley, Lieutenant. He must be
something special, because I can’t see any other reason he’d think he’d be
worth taking.”

Nolan glanced over his shoulder. One of the British seamen
dragged a puny boy on deck, who struggled between keeping on his rumpled hat
and evading the tug of his captor. Whoever the boy was, he wasn’t one of Nolan’s
crew members. Nolan directed a silent question to Parker, who shrugged.

All eyes turned to the struggling adolescent. When the British
crewman released his captive, the boy straightened his clothes and yanked his
mutilated tricorn down past his eyebrows.

Lieutenant Greeley sauntered toward the new arrival. “Who
have we here?”

A stowaway
. The words were on the tip of Nolan’s tongue
before he swallowed his response, recognizing the straight nose and soft mouth
underneath the hat. Jewel’s mouth, her lower lip ripe and full, haunted him in
his waking dreams.

Lieutenant Greeley visibly examined Jewel. “What’s your
name, sailor?”

Thankfully, Jewel kept her head down. She coughed into her
hand. “Joe, sir.”

Lieutenant Greeley stepped back, covering his nose and
mouth with a lace handkerchief he yanked from his sleeve. Disease ran rampant
on sailing vessels and could wipe out an entire crew. Though Greeley’s extreme
reaction was a bit much. The man was probably something of a hypochondriac,
which seemed to work to their advantage. To Nolan’s relief, he appeared to have
lost some of his initial interest.

“Why were you hiding?” he mumbled into his handkerchief.

Nolan moved between them. “He was afraid. Can’t you see
he’s only a boy? He’s my nephew.”

Jewel’s head jerked up. Her glance swung to Nolan, eyes
slightly wide. Though she quickly realized that she’d given something away by
her reaction to Nolan’s words, the sweep of her lashes as she lowered her
conspiratorial gaze caused more damage. The gesture was about the most feminine
thing she could have done.

Before Nolan knew what Greeley intended, the lieutenant
sidestepped Nolan and whisked off Jewel’s hat. A torrent of coffee colored hair
spilled down her back.

“He’s a she. Nephew, indeed. Your behavior is deplorable,
Captain, but I expect nothing less from you uncivilized Colonials. No wonder
you were having such fits that Devlin might snatch away your little bed-warmer.”

“Take who you want and get off my ship.” Nolan directed
his heated words to Greeley, but his fierce stare centered on Jewel.

“It can’t be soon enough, I assure you.” The lieutenant strolled
before Nolan’s crew, examining each man as if he were buying a horse. Nolan was
surprised he didn’t look at their teeth.

Nolan finally pulled his gaze away from Jewel to look for
an accomplice. She hadn’t gotten onto the ship alone. Wayland shielded his eyes
and studied the cloudless sky. Nolan didn’t doubt he was the one. Parker’s
questioning stare captured Nolan’s attention. His lieutenant’s usual open
admiration was clouded. Nolan shook his head, warning Parker not to ask for an
explanation.

Greeley paused in front of Parker. “I’ll take him.”

Nolan stomped over. “No, you won’t. He’s my only officer.”

“Officer? Is this a military vessel? Perhaps we should have
a closer look at your cargo.” Lieutenant Greeley smiled evilly.

“That won’t be necessary.” The last thing he needed was
for Greeley to discover the only cargo they carried was ammunition. Not that
Nolan wouldn’t like to see the smirk disappear from the fat man’s face when he discovered
just how much firepower they had, but the British would still overpower them. “Take
Mr. Tyrell if you must, but since he’s second in command and it’s obvious I’m
shorthanded, I insist you replace him with a man of equal skill. Maybe
yourself? Are you a second or third lieutenant, Greeley?”

“Very well, then. No need for that.” Greeley cleared his
throat. “We can’t spare any of our lieutenants, and since you’re so clever,
we’ll just take some of your able-bodied men and replace them with our own.”

Lieutenant Greeley picked ten hardy members of Nolan’s
crew whom he had earmarked for gunners. Greeley gave Wayland a wide berth,
despite the man trailing his every move. Nolan spared another glance at Jewel.
Her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittered as she watched. She looked to be
enjoying everything.

He tamped down his annoyance. If it weren’t for her untimely
appearance, Nolan might have gained the upper hand with Greeley and not lost
ten healthy crewmen. No doubt the men Greeley would trade would be lame or enfeebled.

After the entourage of British left the
Integrity
with Nolan’s strongest crew members in tow, Nolan turned to Jewel. She caught
his gaze and had the good sense to look at her feet. She jammed her hat back on
her head.

“Mr. Tyrell, see to the transfer of men. I need to speak to
my
nephew
in private.”

Parker hesitated. He glanced at Jewel, and then back to Nolan.
The man was owed an explanation, but Nolan would be damned if he were going to
give it.

His lieutenant nodded, his displeasure obvious. “Aye, Captain.”

Nolan suppressed the urge to grab Jewel by the arm and
yank her to his cabin. Instead, he steadily walked across the deck and stopped
in front of her. She looked up with wide, innocent eyes.

“Follow me,” he said, using a threatening tone he’d never
normally use with a woman.

She visibly shrank and glanced at the faces around her,
apparently for support. A low rumbling of disapproval vibrated from Nolan’s
crew. Nolan cursed under his breath. Were these good men worrying how he would
treat her? He glanced at Wayland, who watched the interaction with amusement.
Maybe the pirate would be better at handling Bellamy’s daughter. The man would
likely scare her, which she could use. Nolan certainly hadn’t had much success
with her. And he wasn’t about to admit he didn’t trust himself alone with the
chit.

“Mr. Wayland, accompany our guest.”

Nolan felt more than heard the collective sigh when he
gave his command. What the hell did they think he was going to do to her? And
how would the presence of an old pirate mitigate that? Never mind. Imagining that
would do him no good. He stormed across the deck, not bothering to see whether
Wayland or Jewel followed. God help them if they didn’t.

Chapter Four

 

 

Nolan’s angry stride had him at the companionway before
Jewel’s fear tensed muscles could start working again. Never could she remember
anyone being quite so angry with her, and the fact that she somewhat deserved his
fury didn’t help matters. His crisp blue jacket and polished boots belied the
decidedly uncivilized promise of retribution she saw in his gaze. Nolan
disappeared below deck without a backward glance, prompting Jewel to quickly
follow.

Wayland’s firm grip on the back of her jacket stopped her
in midstep. “Take your time, Joe.”

“My name’s not Joe, but I guess you already know that.”
Jewel took off her hat and ran her hand through her hair. His appearance no
longer caused her to gasp and, at the moment, was almost welcoming. If he
hadn’t been kind enough to ask her where she was going when she’d become
disoriented at Charles Town’s huge wharf, she might never have found Nolan’s
ship. “We should follow him. No need to make him any angrier than he already
is.”

BOOK: The Pirate's Jewel
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