The Rogue Pirate’s Bride by Shana Galen Read Free Book Online Page B

Yes, I know. I know.” She pressed her fingers lightly over her eyes. It was almost dawn, and she was exhausted. Her headache had developed into a full-blown military tattoo. She was tired of talking, tired of arguing. She wanted something to eat, a glass of wine, and her warm berth, and she knew she was unlikely to have any of them for some time. Worst of all, Cutlass was getting away. She could feel the distance between them growing, and the farther he ventured, the more tense she became. She felt like a ship straining against its anchor. She had waited six months for the opportunity to challenge him as she had last night. Now it might be years before their paths crossed again. If she didn’t avenge Timothy’s death, no one would.
    Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because her father sighed loudly. A gruff, bold man who had served on a ship since the age of eight, George Russell was uncomfortable with the emotional proclivities of women. Raeven was well aware he’d been surrounded by men for as long as he could remember. From what she could determine, he’d loved his wife but hadn’t minded the long voyages away, either. And then she’d died in childbirth, and it had been Raeven and the admiral for as long as she could remember.
    Raeven wasn’t the kind of woman given to tears or fainting spells. If she had been, she would never have made it ten minutes on a ship, much less the last fifteen years. Still, she could feel the tears—tears of exhaustion and frustration, not weakness—pricking behind her eyes. She would rather die than allow them to fall. So she swallowed and looked her father directly in the face. “I saw medicines, sir. Crates of them. I saw crates of what the crew identified as rifles. There may have been other arms, as well. It was dark, and I didn’t have the time or opportunity to explore the cargo hold.”
    “You damn well shouldn’t have been on the vessel in the first place. If I ever get my hands on that Cutlass—”
    “That’s precisely what I’d like to give you the opportunity to do, sir. I can’t prove the medicines and arms were meant for Spain, but he sails under their letters of marque. Perhaps the Spanish and the French are forming an alliance and will soon attack Britain. It’s worth investigating, if nothing else.”
    “I agree.”
    Raeven’s heart leapt.
    “And I shall report it to the Secretary as soon as we return, but we are not going to chase after this pirate. We have our orders, which are to escort merchant ships across the Channel. We have a duty to keep their crews and cargo safe, and I will not disregard my orders.”
    Her stomach tightened, and she could feel the ball of icy despair lodged there growing. It had been wedged in her belly since Timothy’s death but had shrunk when she knew she’d have the opportunity to challenge Cutlass. Now it was growing again. The tears stung her eyes, but she gave a curt nod and kept her voice level. “Yes, sir. I understand. If you’ll give me leave, I’ll start on the decks right away. No need to punish, Mr. Williams, Admiral. He’s not to blame for my foolish actions.”
    “You have my leave, and Mr. Williams will assist you.”
    She nodded and started for the door. Percy was through it and waiting in the companionway for her, but her father’s voice caught her before she reached him. “I know Bowers’s death is painful, Raeven.”
    She didn’t turn to face him, too afraid the tears would break loose if she saw any hint of sympathy on his ruddy, lined face.
    “It will be painful for some time. But we’re not vigilantes. We are His Majesty’s Royal Navy, and we will do our duty. Now, go get a few hours of sleep before your punishment.”
    She turned abruptly. “With your permission, sir, I’d like to begin now.”
    “No, you need your rest and…” He frowned and shook his head. “Never mind. Permission granted. I can see you need to do something to keep your mind—and