Free The Pirate Next Door by Jennifer Ashley Page A

Papa came to fetch me. I did not like the missionaries.”
    Alexandra’s heart wrenched. The cry reached her, though Maggie would never say it: I was unwanted .
    She fell silent while the incredibleness of this whirled in her mind. How could no one want a child? Especially one as lovely and vivacious as Maggie? Her own little son, who had lived but a day, had torn her heart out with his leaving. And here was this child for the taking, and noone had wanted her. The world was a most unbelievable place.
    She pulled herself back to the present. Mrs. Fairchild, Alexandra’s governess, had always admonished Alexandra that it was wrong to say a hurtful word against anyone, as much as one wanted to. “The missionaries were kind to take you in,” she suggested.
    Maggie gave Alexandra the pitying look of a twelve-year-old who knows what is what in the world. “The ones in Jamaica always told me how unfortunate I was because my mama and papa were bad people. But my papa was married to my mama. She had a license. She was very proud of it. But they said I should tremble before God and work very hard, because I was the devil’s child.”
    Outrage tumbled to Alexandra’s lips. Mrs. Fairchild’s lessons flew out the window. “Well of all the—”
    She closed her mouth with a snap and picked up her brush again. She silently raged at anyone who could tell this beautiful child she was evil. She raged further at a mother who had left her about all over the world like an unwanted parcel. What had the woman been thinking of?
    She firmed her lips and kept her thoughts to herself.
    “It’s all right,” Maggie said, catching her glance. “Papa shouted at them. He said if I was the devil’s child, then that meant he was the devil, come to get them. That frightened them a lot.” She gave a satisfied smile that exactly mirrored the wicked grin of her father.
    Alexandra could imagine the missionary couple, used to a life of severe quiet and obedience, suddenly confronted with a huge, hard-faced pirate with blazing blue eyes and a voice that could drown thunder. She imagined them cowering against the wall while he raged at them. A secret, guilty pleasure touched her.
    “Did your mama tell you about your papa when you were young?” Alexandra asked curiously.
    “Oh yes. She talked about him a great deal. She said he was tall and had yellow hair and blue eyes. I did not believe her. But when I saw him, I knew he was my papa. I knew it right away. He had a lot of whiskers on his face, but he shaved them off, right after. He said he was sorry he had not come sooner, but he hadn’t known about me. Mama was happy that he came to get me. She died just after that.”
    Alexandra’s throat caught. Sincerity and belief shone in Maggie’s eyes. Grayson—the viscount —must have seemed to her like a hero from a fairy tale, charging in to rescue her from a dark and cold dungeon. Alexandra suddenly wondered what it would be like if such a man would rescue her . He would dash in, all handsome, with his shirt open to his waist, slay her enemies, slash the chains from her wrists, catch her into his arms, and sweep her away.
    Which was ridiculous. This was Mayfair, and she had no enemies. Unless you could count Theo, but he had not really been an enemy. Just a foolish man who had made her very, very unhappy. There were no dungeons in Mayfair, no chains, no dark enemies. And no pirates. She sighed.
    She finished Maggie’s hair, and they took Alexandra’s carriage all the way to Covent Garden to the theatre. Alexandra had no way of knowing that before she returned again, she would confront dangers that even Mayfair could not hide, see for herself a pirate ship, and discover just how much the viscount’s enemies hated him.

Chapter Eight
    Grayson also was dressing to go out.
    “—!” The word was sliced off in his throat.
    “Almost finished, sir,” Jacobs assured him. The man ceased tying whatever complicated knot he was tying and finally let