Kidnapped by the Pirate

“Did the governor really burn down ’is own house?”

Smitty laughed harshly. “He did. With his daughter and her babe inside and all. Fortunately her husband got them out.”

Nathaniel’s knuckles were white on the handle of his cup, and he let out a shaky breath. Would this Smitty recognize Nathaniel if he happened to look over? Few people on Primrose Isle would have seen him, since he’d been recovering in bed.

Hawk debated whether it would be better to stay put or to leave and possibly draw attention to themselves. Nathaniel took a sip of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing, and Hawk did as well. They’d stay for the moment.

“Wasn’t there some business with his son and the Sea Hawk? A kidnapping and ransom?”

Hawk’s breath stuttered. One of the men answered, “Heard Captain Hawk killed the whelp.”

“No, no.” This was Smitty. “The boy was injured, but he helped the pirate escape from the island before Bainbridge could execute him. That’s what led to the fire. The governor was so enraged he lost his faculties completely. He knew the end of the colony was upon him, and I suppose he decided to destroy what was left rather than accept defeat.”

“So where’s the Sea Hawk now? His ship was sunk, wasn’t it?”

“I heard they were able to salvage it. The Damned Manta just might sail again. Talk of taking it up the coast toward the Cape.”

“So he’s alive?”

“Oh yes. You know Jones, from the Madeline? He saw Captain Hawk in Nassau gathering a crew.”

“I wonder if the boy’s still with him?”

“Well, I heard…”

Another few men stumbled over to the next table, and the chatter became an impenetrable din. Hawk sipped from his cup and watched Nathaniel. “I’m sorry.”

Nathaniel sighed and sipped his beer. “I suppose I should be, but as long as Susanna and Grace are safe with Bart to care for them, that’s all that matters. Bart may be penniless, but he’s strong and brave. A good man. I can only assume Elizabeth and her father also escaped. I hope so.”

“Ah, your betrothed. You haven’t spoken of her.” Ridiculously, a kernel of jealousy expanded in Hawk’s gut. “What was she like?”

A smile tugged at Nathaniel’s lips, as if he could see right into him. “Very pleasant. Steadfast. Would have made an excellent wife and mother. I’m sure her future will be bright with a husband more suited for her. And away from that doomed colony. It’s a shame my father bungled it so completely. Tried to bend it to his will instead of using its natural strengths.”

“I’m sure there’s some biblical parable about a river’s flow advising against that very thing.”

He laughed softly. “I’m sure there is.”

“Any regrets?”

Nathaniel met his eyes directly, steady and clear and honest. “The life I’ve chosen isn’t designed for regret. Even if it were—no.” Beneath the table, he hooked his foot behind Hawk’s calf, the leather of their new, unadorned boots rubbing together.

“Shall we retire to our chamber?” Hawk asked.

The inn was on the outskirts of town. Port Royal had been decimated by an earthquake some fifteen or twenty years earlier, and more recently, by fire. But it remained a pirate haven, a squalid sprawl of commerce and vice, huts and tents by the water and some buildings crowding narrow streets.

Their room was barely bigger than the bed, but the door locked and they’d been left alone for weeks. It was heaven.

“A swim first,” Nathaniel said.

He frowned. “It’s getting late. You’ve had a long day and—”

“And I’m ready for a swim. You know the surgeon said I’m healed.” On his feet, he shimmied out from the table. “I’ll make you a concession and walk to the stream instead of running. Unless you want to race?”

Grumbling, Hawk pushed back his chair. “We’ll walk.”

The stream in the swath of forest outside Port Royal was just deep enough that Hawk had to tread water instead of stand. Their clothes were left in a pile on shore. In the night breeze with stars standing guard, the cool water was wonderful.

Nathaniel swam literal circles around Hawk, his strokes long and smooth, clearly delighting in flexing his muscles. “I shall never take being whole and healthy for granted again,” he proclaimed, kicking water into Hawk’s face, apparently by accident since he didn’t laugh or gloat.

Hawk didn’t answer as he wiped the water from his eyes, and another wave of it broke over him as Nathaniel surged in close, his hand on Hawk’s shoulder as he asked, “What’s the matter?”

Hawk blinked at him. “I’m not fucking crying. You keep splashing me!”

“Oh! Sorry.” Of course, he took that opportunity to scoop water directly into Hawk’s face, then darted out of reach with a laugh that turned into a shriek as Hawk caught his foot.

It devolved from there.

When they returned to shore, out of breath and still tussling half-heartedly, Nathaniel wrapped his arms around Hawk’s neck. “Fuck me. I know you want to.”