Page 4 of Paid to the Pirate

Had Mrs. Penningham noticed?

“Charlotte,” she said carefully. “I want you to go to your room and prepare your things. You’re in my employ and this is my inn. I’ll be the one discussing your staying or leaving with Captain Pearce. Alone.”

I couldn’t tell if Mr. Clayton looked relieved or affronted. It seemed he couldn’t decide himself, either.

Shifting only his eyes, Captain Pearce considered Mrs. Penningham for a moment, then gave one curt nod.

“Everyone out,” shouted the tall, eloquent emissary who’d done most of the speaking on behalf of the pirates. Eager to depart, some people jumped from their chairs and scurried through the door. Others looked around, reluctant to abandon me, God bless them. Only Mrs. Penningham’s gentle encouragement helped them move out into the balmy night.

One more nod by Colt and his men shuffled outside as well, until only Mr. and Mrs. Penningham remained. Mrs. Penningham whispered something to her husband, and he too departed.

“Daniel, please escort Charlotte to her room.”

I blinked. I hadn’t realized I’d been rooted to the ground, wide-eyed, until Mrs. Penningham commanded Daniel to help me move. I felt his arm around my shoulder and allowed myself to be guided.

That I couldfeelhis touch meant this wasn’t a nightmare. It was truly happening.

I didn’t think I could make my shaky legs move without his assistance. I trusted Mrs. Penningham with my life, but I was too shocked to walk on my own.

What on God’s good Earth could a criminal like Colt want withme?

Chapter 3

Colt

Iwanted to wrap my hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze the life from her.

One part of me did, anyway.

Another part of me inwardly smiled, grateful for Mrs. Penningham’s insistence on her well-being, on a certain standard of treatment. It gave me the perfect excuse to tell the crew that wenotkill her or lash her with the cat o’ nine tails until she wished we did.

I wasn’t capable of that.

Not even that fateful night when she challenged me to do it. Or perhaps she’d thrown out the request in desperation. I could never sort out what went through her beautiful head those evenings.And for two bloody years I’d been wondering.

But seeing her sashaying blithely around the tavern, passing out ale as if she hadn’t a care in the world -- processing her nonchalance in seeingme-- caused me to temporarily indulge the fantasy of wringing her elegant neck.

That was a lie. I’d indulged the daydream many times over the years. Almost as many times as I’d indulged… other fantasies.

What did it mean that she still wore the locket?

I ran a hand down my face, forcing my thoughts back to business. I needed to get a handle on how much of my crew felt the same. Conks and Johnson wouldn’t be any trouble. Robert the Red would be a problem, no doubt, living up to his name.

My hands found my belt, adjusting.

Oh, she’d be punished alright.After I got the story from her own lips as to what she’d been up to these past two years. Nay,before.She’d speak more honestly after a belting.

This was clearly yet another game of Charlotte’s but what was the purpose this time? I informed the innkeeper that Charlotte belonged tous,and she countered by alluding to a more refined upbringing Charlotte had before they’d met.

Nonsense.

Perhaps Charlotte was lying to this woman as well?She was skilled at deception, after all.

“She’s like a daughter to me. I won’t be seeing her harmed,” Mrs. Penningham insisted, after a long, strange line of questioning I couldn’t make heads or tails of. Mrs. Penningham’s story about how Charlotte came to work at the tavern didn’t add up. The details were vague and evasive. The outspoken old innkeeper had been hiding Charlotte, that much was clear. But she was hiding something else too, and I didn’t think it was the Crimson Eye.

Mrs. Penningham obscured somethingaboutCharlotte. I gritted my teeth, fist clenching beneath the table as I guessed it might have something to do with that Daniel boy who freely touched her as he escorted her up the stairs.

Charlotte might belikea daughter to Mrs. Penningham, but no one could misbelieve her to be the spawn of this dowdy woman and her timid husband.

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