The Least Likely Bride by Jane Feather Read Free Book Online Page A

of splintering wood filled the hot summer air as the frigate’s guns tore into the galleon’s side.
    Olivia looked up at him and he laughed down at her and she realized she was not frightened, only filled with a wild elation.
    Then Jethro, the helmsman, appeared as if on command and took the helm, and Anthony drew his sword. With a swift movement, he bent and took Olivia’s chin on the palm of his hand and kissed her mouth. “Piracy seems to suit Lord Granville’s daughter.”
    Before she could answer, he was gone, swinging himself over the rail, across the stretched netting, to leap into the midst of the thronged Spaniards on the opposite deck.
    Olivia, wonderingly, touched her mouth where he’d kissed her. A man had never kissed her on the lips before. She clasped her arms around her body with a little shiver. But it was of excitement, not fear. She looked at Jethro and saw that his countenance was utterly calm, utterly confident. He swung the frigate’s head into the wind so that her sails emptied and she came to a stop, bobbing gently alongside the Spanish vessel.
    Olivia looked into the anarchic maelstrom on the galleon’s deck and saw Anthony’s bright head. It seemed to be everywhere, and his sword flashed like the archangel’s blade at the gates of the Garden of Eden.
    “Will it be all right?” The question spoke itself.
    “Aye, never you fear, lady. The master’s never lost a fight yet.” Jethro spoke with stolid calm.
    And in truth it seemed that the chaos was dying down, the shouts and screams fading, no longer competing with the squalling gulls. Anthony leaped onto the galleon’s poop deck where the Spanish captain and three other grandees in braided coats and high plumed hats had materialized.
    Olivia watched as the pirate swept his victims a flourishing bow, his sword cutting a swath through the air. She caught herself throwing a calculating glance over the side at the bridge of netting. It had looked easy enough, although the water seemed a long way down.
    What in the world was she thinking?
But reason seemed to have abandoned her. Mad though it was, Lord Granville’s daughter wasn’t going to miss out on any aspect of this adventure. Olivia chuckled to herself as, with a little unconscious toss of her head, she gathered the folds of her makeshift gown into her hands, lifting it well clear of her bare feet. She swung over the rail.
    “You can do it in three steps. But expect it to move beneath you.”
    At the pirate’s cool tones calling to her from theopposite deck, Olivia looked up. There was both challenge and invitation in his steady gaze. She nodded, biting her lip with concentration, released the rail, and sprang forward. The netting bridge bounced beneath her and she gave a cry, half alarm, half exhilaration, and then she’d reached the galleon in safety, the wind whipping her hair from beneath the blue scarf. She tumbled over the rail to the deck and climbed up to the poop deck.
    “Gentlemen, may I present the Lady Olivia.” Anthony introduced her with another bow and a flourish of his sword. “She will take your swords, if you’d be good enough to disarm yourselves.” He smiled politely. “A simple precaution, but one I’m sure you’ll understand.”
    “This is
piracy
!” spat the captain in thick accents.
    “Precisely,” Anthony agreed. “Piracy on the high seas. Your swords, gentlemen, if you please.”
    “I will not dishonor myself to a common pirate!” one of the other three spluttered. “I will die on my sword rather than surrender it to a thief.”
    “Then pray do so, sir. It is one of your three options.” The smile that flickered over his lips was one of polite indifference. “You may surrender your swords to Lady Olivia; you may die upon them if you so wish; or I will remove your swordbelts myself. And your britches with them.” His sword flashed suddenly, its point coming to rest against the captain’s considerable paunch.
    The man jumped back with a