Free The Pirate's Desire by Jennette Green Page B

she was a mouse scuttling within the walls. Lucinda swallowed a gurgle of revulsion and prayed no rodents ran over her toes.
    Her fingers skimmed over the wall. And then again…and yet again, searching. It had been years since she’d done this.
    Here. At last, she found the recessed lever. A gentle push, and the panel slid—thankfully noiselessly—inside, and to the right. Before her, a floor-to-ceiling tapestry concealed her hiding place from the men in the room. Dust motes tickled her nose, and she hastily pinched it shut so she wouldn’t sneeze.
    Now she could hear clearly, and she remained still and listened.
    “It’s worse’n you think, guvnor,” a raspy voice said. “The Brits say they’ll seize Tradewind if y’don’ comply. Yer to be there Friday.”
    Heavy boots paced the floor. “The Admiral said that? In so many words?”
    “I’ve a note. Here.”
    The crisp snap of a letter opened, and silence ensued. “He breaks his word.” Riel sounded grim.
    “What right have we to deny ’im? As you say, if y’don’ want waves, don’ sail in a storm.”
    “I’m aware of our predicament. But I cannot leave here yet. Documents must be signed before I can return.”
    “Kin you handle the gel?”
    “I can handle her.” Again, the words sounded grim. “But I won’t leave until all is settled.”
    “Legal, or otherwise?”
    Riel did not answer.
    “Last thing yer want is to raise suspicion, Cap’n.”
    “As I know well.”
    Suspicion? Lucinda drew a soft, startled breath, and stopped pinching her nose in order to breathe better. Why would the Royal Navy possibly become suspicious of Riel and his crew?
    Her heart pumped faster, and dangerous prickles of excitement danced over her skin. Riel must be running—or hiding—from something. Just as she’d thought. But what could it be? And how could she find out? She leaned closer to the old tapestry in order to hear better.
    “Is it worth it, guvnor?”
    “What do they intend, Haskins? You must have heard a rumor.”
    “All I know is the Admiral means business. To keep yer squeaky clean rep and boat, you’ve got to come.”
    “When will this end?” Frustration edged the deep voice.
    “Until Bonny’s banished, Cap’n.”
    Heavy boots strode in the direction of the desk. A quill scratched on paper. “Take this, Haskins. Tell him I’ll be there on Monday.”
    “Aye, Cap’n.”
    “And Haskins, tell the crew I’ve not forgotten my promise.”
    “We don’ need extra coin for sailin’ the ship, Cap’n. Brits’ infernal henpecking or no. We’re your crew.”
    “You deserve it. I’ll have money coming in soon. At the end of this week, in fact. I’ll bring it when I return to the ship.”
    Money coming in soon? At the end of this week? Lucinda softly gasped. On Friday Mr. Chase would pay Ravensbrook’s monthly stipend into Montclair’s hand!
    “Very well, Cap’n. Thank you. I’ll be off.”
    Lucinda peeked around the end of the tapestry and saw the unkempt scoundrel exit. Her mission had proven quite fruitful. Now, she needed only to escape from her hiding place without detection.
    Her cheek dusted the tapestry as she drew back, and suddenly her nose itched most alarmingly. She must have stirred up dust. Lucinda grabbed for her nose again, unmindful that her hand would cause a noticeable ripple in the tapestry.
    “Ah chuh! ” Stifled though she’d tried to make it, the sneeze exploded like shattering china.
    Lucinda scrambled to find the closing lever. Haste made her fingers clumsy. As a child, she could have closed it in two seconds flat.
    Now two seconds stretched to three, then five…and with each one she heard boots clomp closer.
    Her fingers closed on the latch. Finally! She jerked it down just as Riel swept aside the tapestry. Horrified, she stared back at him. His dark, shadowed face looked more like a pirate than ever before, and his black brows winged upward in surprised displeasure.
    “Lucinda!” he thundered as the panel