Page 9 of Kidnapped by the Pirate
Unable to bear their scrutiny, he turned to look out at the waves, skin crawling. Wind rushed in his ears, and he wasn’t sure whether or not to be grateful he couldn’t make out their words.
The truth was, he had a terrible suspicion Hawk was quite overestimating Nathaniel’s worth to his father. It was accurate Walter had wanted a son with a fervor bordering on obsession, or so Nathaniel had always been told. Nathaniel’s uncle—his father’s elder brother—had not only inherited the family fortune, estate, and title of baronet, but had sired three strapping, intelligent sons.
Walter had resented them all bitterly, and had been determined to achieve a son of his own, an emblem of his manhood. Margaret, Nathaniel’s mother, had first provided Walter with the Hollington estate. Then a daughter, Jane, who lived in Kent with her husband, a naval officer often at sea, and their four children.
Next came Susanna—another disappointment for Walter. So again and again he got Margaret with child, despite the physician’s warnings that the first two had almost killed her.
Nathaniel wasn’t sure how many babes had been lost before she’d managed to birth him. Walter had finally acquired his prize, and though he’d sincerely mourned his wife by all accounts, Nathaniel suspected Walter’s greater sorrow was Nathaniel’s utter failure to be the son he’d desired so fervently.
To say he had been a disappointment quite understated the matter. For a moment he allowed himself the childish yearning for the mother he’d never known. She’d given her life for his, and he was certain the trade had not been worthy. How he would have let her down too. A half-wit and a sinner.
“Time’s up,” Hawk announced, tearing him from his wayward thoughts. Then those blue eyes narrowed. “What do you look so guilty about?”
“N-nothing.”
With one powerful stride, Hawk closed the distance between them, and the rail jammed into Nathaniel’s back. Hawk leaned in, towering over him.
“Whatever heroic ideas you have in your head, get rid of them. If you attempt any kind of attack on me or my men, or you wish to fling yourself over the side in some misguided notion of noble sacrifice, we will hunt down that merchant ship and see your sister and her child suffer. Oh, how they will suffer. Do I make myself clear, or do you require specifics?”
Nathaniel shook his head, desperate to back away farther from Hawk’s mocking sneer. He was caught painfully with no retreat at hand, the man’s body an unmovable wall, his will impenetrable.
Hawk was right—to go overboard would be suicide, and Nathaniel didn’t have a prayer of overpowering a single man on the ship, let alone fifty of them. He was trapped.
“Any other questions?”
“Who did you steal this ship from?” The words flitted through his mind and somehow rasped right out of his mouth. Nathaniel snapped his jaw shut, blood rushing in his ears.
Hawk straightened up as if offended. He growled, “This is my ship. I earned her fair and square in a wager. It was your father who tried to steal her from me.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
He gritted out, “Not that it fucking matters what you understand, but after years of toil, I finally had my own ship. I considered carrying merchant cargo, but I wanted to do more for my country despite—”
Nathaniel waited a few moments, watching the way Hawk’s jaw clenched. “Despite what?”
“Nothing,” he spat. “I was bestowed my letter of marque, permitting me to raid enemy ships. I was a proud partner of the Crown, battling the Spanish grip on the West Indies. I followed the rules and shared my winnings. I was respectable. Legitimate.”
“Then how did you fall so far as to become this?”
Hawk’s large hand clamped around Nathaniel’s throat, metal rings digging in painfully, cutting off his air. He leaned low again. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, boy, or I will cut it out and feed it to you. Yes?”
Nathaniel nodded desperately, horror clawing at him, lungs already burning. He stamped his feet, wanting to kick and free himself somehow. Hawk’s grip loosened, but didn’t release. At least it was enough that Nathaniel could breathe again. Barely.
Face hard, Hawk still leaned in close. “That day seven years ago at the Court of Admiralty, when I presented my Spanish galleon loaded with treasure, your father announced that the Spanish captain had claimed cruel treatment, in direct contravention to regulations. I knew it to be a lie since the man had stayed in my cabin, utterly unharmed. I saw to it that no prisoner was ever harmed on my ship.”
“Perhaps the Spanish captain was the liar?” Nathaniel scraped the words out. Truthfully, it sounded exactly like something his father would do. Anything to further his own selfish desires.
“Of course the captain could not say, as he had suddenly died the night before in the court’s custody. But my letter of marque was invalidated, and in a heartbeat, I was declared a pirate. My ship and men would be seized as well.”
