The Pirate Bride. Shannon Drake

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      “And if you best me, m’lord?” Red Robert inquired with polite amusement.

      “Then we sail away.”

      Red Robert seemed to weigh his words with gravity. But then he said, “Surely you are jesting.”

      “Are you afraid?” Logan demanded, assessing the pirate captain’s slender frame and apparent youth, which made a strange contrast indeed against the hardened edge of the sea robbers surrounding him.

      “This is not a profession for one who is afraid,” Red Robert returned casually. “Don’t be deceived by my youth, Lord Haggerty. I am more than proficient with my weapons.”

      One well-muscled man standing at the pirate captain’s side—not much older, but far stronger and broader—whispered in Red Robert’s ear, causing him to laugh.

      “This may be some trick, Red,” one of the other men warned, a fellow with long gray hair, a large gold earring and his fingers twitching on the hilt of the knife at his waist.

      “No trick,” Logan said quietly.

      “No fear, Hagar,” Red said, acknowledging the man who had spoken. “And no deal.” He turned to Logan. “However, here is what I do offer. If you best me, you do not sail away free. After all, m’lord, you surely knew you traveled dangerous waters.” When Logan would have spoken, Red Robert raised his hand. “Your men live. They may sail away free with half the treasure. But you remain with us, a willing prisoner, to be held for ransom.”

      “I’ve told you. My title means little.”

      “And so the daring voyage you attempted today?” Red Robert mocked.

      Logan stood his ground without reply, though his heart seemed to shrivel at the thought of never seeing Cassandra again. Still, his men would live to sail away.

      If he could win.

      And, God help him, the fellow was lean, which would make him quick. Agile. A deadly foe.

      Though far broader in the shoulder himself, and not without a fair share of power in his arms, he was agile, as well. He’d trained with some of the finest swordsmen money could buy, since it was only recently that the family fortunes had taken such a sad turn.

      His men. He had to save his men, God help him. He’d had every right to gamble with his own life, but he had been wrong to risk theirs, as well. And if he could best this captain…

      “I will be your willing prisoner. But I would ask, then, that even if I lose, you take the treasure but give my men the tenders so that they might make safe landfall.”

      Red Robert shrugged.

      The tall, dark-haired fellow at his side protested. “No.”

      The captain turned on him with such a fierce look of displeasure that the man stepped back and hung his head. “Brendan,” Red said warningly.

      The captain had a curious voice, Logan thought. He seemed eternally soft-spoken. Strange, for someone who needed to bellow orders against the wind. There was a husky, almost whispered quality to his voice.

      “Aye, Red,” the man named Brendan replied, but despite his immediate acknowledgment that Red was captain and his orders stood, he was rigidly disapproving.

      “It is done,” Red Robert said.

      “This is madness,” Jamie protested softly to Logan. “A trick, certainly. They will not let us go. They will not forego half of such a treasure.”

      “It is madness,” Logan agreed. Madness from the moment he had agreed to transport the treasure. Madness? Aye, from start to finish, but here was his chance to at least save those he had dragged into folly along with him.

      “Madness, but I believe this pirate will stand by his word.”

      “My deck, m’lord Captain, is the larger,” Red Robert said. “We shall hold our contest here.”

      There was some muttering upon the pirate’s deck.

      And some protests from Logan’s own.

      Red Robert lifted a hand. The muttering went silent. “We shall fight until first blood,” he called out gruffly.

      “Are you afraid of Lord Haggerty’s prowess?” Jamie shouted out.

      Logan wished the man silent. They were hardly in a position to aggravate their opponents.

      “I don’t intend to sacrifice a fine ransom or ready muscles for the oars,” Red returned, unruffled.

      “Well?” demanded one of Red’s fellows. “Do we get on with this or not?”

      Logan leapt nimbly upon the ship’s rail to make his way to the other ship’s deck. Alone among the ruffians and sea robbers, he stood his ground. He stared at the slender and oddly aesthetic pirate, then dipped a deep and sweeping bow. “At your convenience, Captain.”

      “Clear the deck,” Red Robert said, and it wasn’t a resounding, thunderous shout, but a quiet command, still instantly obeyed.

      “He needs a second!” Jamie McDougall called, and leapt across to stand, white-faced, fists clenched, at Logan’s side.

      Jamie McDougall was a good and loyal friend, Logan thought. They had a long history together. Jamie would not, apparently could not, leave him now.

      Red Robert pulled his sword from the handsome scabbard belted about his hip. He swept a courtly bow to Logan. “At your convenience, m’lord.”

      “Nay, sir, at yours,” Logan said softly.

      It might have been a casual meeting on the street. At first they circled one another carefully, each trying to assess the measure and mettle of the other man. Neither of them appeared the least concerned. Logan saw a smile twitch at the pirate’s lips. This close, he saw that the captain was indeed very young.

      He wondered that the pirate captain, however youthful and—perhaps?—inexperienced he might be, had not shed the crimson coat. He was clad in shirt and breeches himself, allowing a far greater freedom of movement.

      But his opponent seemed perfectly comfortable in his coat.

      He certainly wasn’t about to suggest his opponent remove it. Why offer his foe any advantage?

      “Get ’im, Red!” cried gray-haired Hagar, and a chant went up among the pirates.

      Not to be outdone, Logan’s own crew called encouragement to him.

      “Take the sea robber, m’lord! Take him!” Jamie shouted.

      “Red, watch his footwork,” warned the man named Brendan.

      “He’s a scurvy sea rat, m’lord!” cried someone from his own deck. Richard Darnley, Logan thought, a good young sailor, and a man intent on making his way in the world.

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