Death by Ploot Ploot

  Even so, Tyler knew that what it represented to Julian was worth more than the actual value of the piece itself.

  Chances were that Julian would never prove his prior innocence or reclaim his bloodline.

  And he was certainly not an innocent anymore.

  Not of other crimes.

  But, the ring was his honor. And honor was strangely important to the Lion.

  And that was one reason Tyler trusted him.

  It was more than honor amongst thieves.

  Both men knew they could count on the other since the first day Lion had aided Tyler in his plot to seek vengeance on his grandfather. When the Lion had attacked one of the Duke’s ships and he happened to be on board...

  He had commended the fearsome pirate on a job well done and had then saved the notorious pirate’s life when one of his grandfather’s crew became overly bold and threw a knife at the pirate’s back. After a discrete conversation between the two of them, wherein Tyler let his wishes be known, the pirate secretly took him under his wing. Tyler had been little more than a youth back then, maybe seventeen years. A long time ago.

  Since then, the men had become fast friends and friendly competitors.

  "Thank you for this, Tyler." Lion's voice was rough with terrible memories he was trying to suppress. The betrayals, the suffering, the beatings, the dishonor.

  "No one else would have done it for me."

  Tyler shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't so much."

  Lion glanced over at him and shook his head.

  "Aye, it was. You risked your life to procure it, and I won’t forget it."

  "You'd do the same for me, Julian. In fact, you have done the same for me many times over.” Tyler smiled.

  “So you’d best never speak of it or I shall have to sink another ship.”

  The Lion’s eyes glittered with piratical glee. "Aye, speaking of that, do you realize, Panther, that you are raiding and I am getting some of the blame?"

  Tyler snickered. "Caught onto that did you?"

  Lion arched his brow at the younger man. "And do you have to braid your hair before every raid?"

  The Panther held up his hands and grinned broadly.

  "Not every raid. Just enough to irk you. It’s not so bad–

  I get the treasure whilst you get the fame."

  Julian chuckled. "Blame is more like it. Ah, well.

  At least it spreads my fearsome reputation far and wide, boyo. You didn't think of that when you concocted the mischief up."

  "Actually, I did. You see, no one knows where, when, or who will strike, the Panther or the Lion.

  Helps us both. Besides, you can't step foot in England again so you might as well become a British legend."

  Lion scratched his jaw. "That sounds as if it should be reasonable– so why do I think there must be a flaw in it somewhere? Probably to my detriment?"

  They both laughed.

  "So, as a legend, does that mean I can be your wife's ‘other’ pirate?" The Lion goaded slyly.

  The grin died on Tyler's face mid-laugh. "No."

  "Not even if–"

  "God’s teeth, Lion, I trust you but I can still kill you."

  "Of course." Lion swept him a bow.

  They were almost equally matched at the blade, but Tyler thought Lion might be a shade better. Of course, he was the better shot.

  "Blades," Lion called out a fraction of a second before the Panther called out. "Pistols."

  The two crafty pirates grinned and shook a finger at each other.

  And then, liking a good challenge, they proceeded to drink each other flat under the table. Cold rum and warm sea air were a pirate’s blessing.

  * * *

  Later that night when the Lion walked onto the main deck, he sought out a hidden corner at the aft of the ship.

  By the light of the moon, he removed the ring from his finger. Holding it in his hand, he performed a series of measured taps on the top and sides. A whirring sound issued forth.

  The ring suddenly opened, unfolding its faceted secrets.

  Something was etched inside its metal surface.

  Discretely, Lion took a small jeweler's glass from his coat pocket and held it up to his eye to examine the curious piece through its magnifying lens.

  There, resting perfectly in his palm, was a hidden, miniature map. A treasure map.

  He exhaled, relieved.

  It would be a long, difficult journey, fraught with danger– but that's what pirates lived for. In the end, there would be plunder aplenty.

  Pirates lived for that as well.

  As soon as he returned to the Chimera, his next course was clear. It would be his last adventure.

  But a great one.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When Tyler entered the cabin that night Ginny was already in bed.

  Mabel had thought it would be wise to go back to their cabins and stay out of sight for the rest of the evening as both crews were kissing the grog and throwing their arms about each others’ shoulders to sing the most scandalous sea shanteys.

  By that time, Hack was running a rig on Slash by pointing to something he suddenly spotted at sea whenever the other man’s mug was refilled. While Slash blinked drunkenly at the water, Hack quickly drowned his friend's brew. Worse, Henley, having nothing better to do and tired of constantly retching from his mal-demer, partook of several tankards himself.

  The last they saw of him he was skipping across the bow in a flutter of lace and rum.

  The commotion was still going on up on deck.

  Above the din Ginny noted quiet rustling as Tyler removed his clothes and silently slid into the bed beside her.

  As if someone could actually sleep over that clamor.

  A loud snore immediately sounded from his side of the bed.

  She rolled her eyes; he was stone drunk.

  The cloud of rum fumes surrounding him validated her. His naked presence in bed indicated he was delusional as well as loud.

  The sharp elbow in his side surprised Tyler; he thought Ginny was long asleep. The hour was very late; they had all drunk too much. Nonetheless, he valiantly opened one eye.

  It seemed that his turtledove had something to say.

  “What can I do for you, my lady,” he croaked.

  "Can you not use another bed?" she snapped, irritated.

  He turned onto his side and rested his face in his palm. "This is my cabin, love."

  "Is there not another bed for me then? This is quite a large ship; there must be some other place." Ginny felt his breath across her arm.

  “Funny thing,” he tapped his upper lip with his forefinger, "But this is your cabin as well." The playful tone was still final.

  The man then rolled over onto his back and laced his hands behind his head. Ginny shrugged, too tired to get much dander up about it at this point. She was sleepy, and the ship was a floating Bedlam.

  But that did not mean she shouldn’t put the time to good use. Tyler might be more amenable to giving her information when he was in his cups. "That man that came aboard..." She coyly asked, "The pirate Lord?"

  Tyler was instantly sober. "Yes, what of him?"

  "Is he truly the infamous Lion?"

  "Yes." Cautiously.

  "He, um, well, he seems rather sad inside."

  Tyler was not surprised that Ginny had instantly seen what Julian always tried so hard to hide. She was becoming very intuitive. He wondered how formidable she would be in a few years time when she had more seasoning.

  Very formidable, he decided. And he rather liked that idea. He smiled to himself as he anticipated the future rows coming his ways.

  "Not many would see him that way, just ask those who have come up against him."

  "Well, he is roguishly charming, of course, and I am sure by his reputation alone, quite fearsome, but there is definitely something more there... He seems very different from most men... Is that why you have befriended him?"

  She really was very sharp. "Aye, Gi
nny."

  Silence for several moments.

  "Do you trust him?"

  Unhesitatingly, "With my life."

  Ginny knew then that the Lion would never help her get away from Tyler's ship unless he thought it was in Tyler's best interest. Her plan would need to be revised. "What made him become a pirate? Do you know?"

  "I don't know the whole of it, but I know enough.

  All I will tell you is that he was once a very powerful man, with lands and wealth beyond compare. A decent, good man. It was all taken from him in a single night when men with certain agendas conspired against him, men whose connections ran so deep that he found all was lost to him before he even had a chance to defend what was his. From that point on, he became a renegade."

  Ginny sucked in her breath at the riveting tale.

  "You mean he is actually a real lord? I-I thought that was simply an affectation like a lord of the pirates or something."

  "Most think that, but truth is sometimes stranger and often crueler than tales. He was stripped of his titles."

  She bit her lip. "Perhaps that is the source of his sadness."

  Tyler rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "I think it was more than that, but I don't wish to–"

  "A lost love?" she ventured boldly.

  The corners of the pirate’s lips twitched. "Ah, you wish to make him a tragic romantic figure. Why do women do that?"

  Ginny huffed. "Well, is he?"

  Tyler shrugged. "Not for me to say."

  She wanted to hit him with her pillow. "Will he ever go back to England, do you think?"

  "I doubt it, because if he does, he will most likely be shot on sight– or hung."

  For some reason, Ginny felt great compassion for the Lion. Discretely, she glanced over at her 'husband'.

  He seemed deep in thought as he stared at the ceiling, hands laced behind his head. The moonlight that bathed the cabin was ample enough to discern his features. His classically drawn face gave no hint of what he was actually thinking.

  It dawned on her that Lord Devon was a beautiful enigma.

  He had told her about the Lion, but what made him take to the seas to live a double life as pirate? Since she had discovered his other identity, the questions would not let her be.

  What was he holding within himself that would cause him to take these kinds of risks?

  Maybe the man just liked the peril?

  Not everyone had hidden motives.

  After all, he was also a libertine and a bounder; he fought more duels for his boudoir behavior than any man she had ever heard of. Perhaps he was just a simple thrill-seeker who thrived on rebelliousness?

  Yet, she had seen glimpses of a different man.

  After they had married, for instance.

  Those weeks, when they had spent a lot of time together, he had seemed genuinely happy. They ate together, danced together, spoke of favorite books together...

  She had rather liked him.

  Perhaps she still liked him. A bit.

  She just wasn't sure.

  But. The times when he had made love to her there was something else there. Something that, well, something that made her hug him tighter. Something that made her lose control when he took them on that utterly strange yet thrilling ride.

  Could she be developing feelings for him of a deeper nature?

  Ridiculous.

  She could laugh at herself.

  Sneaking another peek at him, she noted that she did take pleasure in his handsome profile. All of a sudden, she rather wanted him. But to what end?

  Perhaps she would even miss him when she left his ship?

  An image came unbidden to her mind of the gentle way he had coaxed her into passion that first time, despite his anger. He had lovingly suckled her lower lip and nibbled along her throat afterward...

  A low throbbing began between her legs.

  The man infuriated her, and here she was remembering his passionate caresses! And she wasn't even close to forgiving him for his subterfuge.

  He forgave you. An inner voice whispered.

  Yes, well that was different. Hers was just a mild lark compared to this! The man was a bleeding, notorious pirate with a price on his head. Just a tad steeper on the subterfuge scale.

  The moon came out from behind a passing cloud and silvery rays streaked across the bunk, lighting the room further.

  Her heart suddenly kicked in her chest as she watched his eyes flutter shut. He was so...

  Tyler.

  She had never met anyone like him. So was that good or bad?

  “You are a pirate.” Her soft statement fell like an anchor between them. He heard her but did not open his eyes.

  “Aye, so what of it?”

  The question sounded more a proud statement.

  “Your life as Lord Devon is a lie.”

  “It would seem so, madam.”

  “Then you- did you not actually sleep with all those women of the ton?”

  One black brow arched as if to say surely you are jesting?

  Ginny colored. “So you are a wastrel to boot!

  What a prize I’ve shackled myself to.”

  He chuckled, a low rasp of agreement. “If it makes you feel any better, madam, I have given up all the others and am now concentrating solely on you.”

  She waved her hand in the air. “Don’t put yourself out on my account.”

  Strangely, he felt instantly contrite. He opened his eyes and turned towards her. “I mean it, Ginny. There has been no one since you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me pretty lies, sir, we are obviously no longer in proper society.”

  “I have no need to tell tales, my lady. If I swived someone, I would say it plain. ‘Tis my nature, ask anyone.”

  She stared into his deep eyes. The sensual, silvery waterfalls... so easy to drown in... He seemed to be telling the truth. So, he had remained loyal to her. But why? And for how long?

  He read the doubts on her face. “I will keep to our vows as long as you promise to be my wife.”

  “Is that the word of a pirate or a lord?”

  “You will find that a pirate’s word is often truer.

  There is a code amongst thieves, after all. I would not put as much stock in the word of some lords.”

  “Lord Henry is an honorable man.”

  He exhaled. “On this topic, he is an exception to the majority.”

  “On every topic, actually,” Ginny admitted. “Henley is rather exceptional.” She bit her lip. “I think you should always give your word as a pirate and a lord, Tyler.”

  “And why is that?”

  “With your reputation you probably need the extra insurance.”

  He tapped his index finger against the side of his forehead. “Tell me again– who is the pirate here?”

  Chuckling, he rolled over onto his side to wrap her in his arms.

  The warm embrace, so secure, so comforting made Ginny wonder if there might be some good to come of this after all. He had given encouragement to her earlier epiphany... In a way.

  Tyler pulled her closer to him in his sleep.

  Protective and proprietary.

  Husband and pirate.

  One trait irked, and the other soothed.

  With just her head poking out from inside his safe embrace, she went over her plan until his lids fell shut again.

  The rum must have made him slow.

  She had not promised a thing.

  * * *

  His eyelids slowly opened.

  There was a knife at his throat.

  His wife was sitting atop him on bent knees.

  Tyler stared, unblinking. Silent. And focused.

  In that moment, Ginny could easily see the utter ruthlessness in him. He looked quite deadly.

  He remained perfectly still, waiting for her to make her move. So she did.

  "Hear me well, pirate husband. You will no longer tell me what I can and cannot wear. I shall do as I please, if it pleases me." She nicked his throat
slightly. A bead of blood bubbled up. "Do I make myself clear?" she parroted him.

  Another man's eyes might have widened in consternation or even fear. He regarded her evenly, not moving a muscle.

  "Do I make myself clear?" She repeated, pressing the knife deeper. Ginny had no intention of actually hurting him, but he needed to know she meant what she was saying.

  "I think the metaphor of the blade at my throat makes the premise translucent, my sweet," he drawled.

  "I have your agreement then?" Her hand stayed on the hilt of the knife.

  His eyes glanced over her set features. "You do." He stretched his legs beneath her. "However–"

  The only warning she received was the instantaneous flash in his eyes before she was handily flipped over on the bed. Now he was looking down on her.

  Her hand still held the knife to his throat.

  He hadn't even bothered to remove it from his artery! Nothing could have spoken so loudly as to how dangerous he was. Not even a knife at his throat concerned him unduly.

  There was no doubt left that the real weapon was him.

  He bent his head toward her, intentionally pressing the knife deeper. A trickle of blood skittered down his neck. His long silken hair, freed from its normal confines, blanketed around her.

  The smoky, silvery blue eyes stared deeply into her own. "Never forget who captains her."

  With a somewhat shaky nod, she agreed to the marauder’s terms.

  He brushed his velvety-warm lips against hers in a brief seal of this new bargain between them. The sweetness of his mouth lingered long after it had been branded upon her.

  It was a heady taste of the devil.

  * * *

  He woke her before dawn with the heated press of his lips. His sensual moan in the darkened cabin almost undid her.

  His desire tumbled over her with the fall of her name on his lips.

  In that cabin, in that snug bunk, there were a few seconds of intense stillness as Tyler waited and Ginny expected.

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. And in that moment...

  In that moment.

  Ginny simply grabbed him. Wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. His moan of pleasure was cut off as her mouth feverishly covered his. Her tongue wrapped wildly around his as the press of their kiss intensified.