The Pirate's Secret Stowaway: Secret Lords and Ladies, #1

By Erin Grace

With their futures threatened, Grace Hathaway will risk everything to save her cousin and herself.

But when she takes her fate into her own hands and stows away on-board the Serenade, she has no idea just how much her life will change.

Captain Marcus James is haunted by a violent past he can barely remember except in the dark murky sea of his dreams. Competition with government traders has seen him take on illegal hidden goods, just to keep The Serenade and her crew afloat.

The last thing he needs is undue attention from the wrong quarters, and the last thing he expects to find is Grace.

Facing stormy seas, bloody battles with pirates and a sizzling romance, will Grace and Marcus find their own port of call?



(Formerly published as Pirate's Serenade)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin Grace
• Release date: Oct 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393418405

Book preview

Prologue

Cape of Good Hope, 1768

Not all sea monsters lived beneath the waves.

Eight…nine…ten. Marcus dashed down the dark narrow corridor as fast as his little legs could carry him. Almost breathless, he glanced back then stopped. Where to go?

Squeezing himself between a thick wooden beam and a barrel of ale, he squatted down and kept still. Waves gently licked against the ship’s hull and the creak of swollen timbers echoed from somewhere in the dark belly of the bow below. The stench of rotten fish, tallow and sea salt rose up, filling his nostrils. Yuck. He pinched them shut against the awful smell, screwing up his freckled nose. But the discomfort would be worth it.

They’d never find him here.

The faint tap of footsteps echoed around him. Holding his breath, he waited, but heard

nothing further save the beating of his heart. Strange. He’d never noticed that sound before. Had it always pounded so hard? Maybe they could hear it too?

A loosened floorboard groaned. Louder than before. They must be close. Shaking, he closed his eyes, leant forward and clutched his knees. Too late to run.

He was trapped.

Got you! The voice came from nowhere.

He gasped, but had no room to turn and face his captor. Dragged from his hiding place, he twisted and turned to get free, but to no avail. As he lay flat on the floor, two determined hands took to his stomach and began torturing him without mercy.

Mama! Mama! Laughter bubbled up from his belly. Stop! It’s not fair. You cheated. Where’s Papa? He said he would play too.

His mother, with her honey-gold hair and kind blue eyes shimmering above him, stopped her tickling and lifted him to his feet.

Humph. He’d gone to a lot of effort to find just the right hiding place. Why did she have to find him so soon? He’d little enough to keep him amused, being indoors all the time.

The voyage had been so boring. Papa had told him it would only take a few days to get to their new home, but after four sleeps already, he knew better. It would take thirty hundred years at least. Such a long time. With nowhere to run outside, hide and seek was one of the few games he’d been allowed to play. He liked games.

And loved the dice.

Papa had said it wasn’t a game gentlemen played. Sometimes though, just after supper, he would sneak away from his parents and watch the crew sit at the other end of the deck playing with gleaming sets of the carved die. He liked the way they tinkled across the shiny deck before being scooped up by some enormous hand and shaken, then tossed again. Why they were doing it, he didn’t know, but it looked like enormous fun. Sometimes the men were having such a grand time, the man with the funny hat would complain and make them stop.

Grown-ups were so unfair.

Now, Marcus, your Papa is busy on deck with the captain. And besides, how could I possibly cheat? His mother smiled down at him, as he huffed and kicked at the boards. You don’t like losing, do you?

Frowning, he stamped his foot. Mama, you have been peeking. I was in the dark, you know. It was a good spot and you spoiled it.

But I was supposed to find you, my love.

Not fair, Mama. Not fair. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted.

Come now love, I shan’t play anymore if you’re going to be so disagreeable. You can’t always win. What would Papa think?

Heaving a sigh, he pulled at a piece of thread he’d noticed dangling from his sleeve. Where had it come from?

And, you don’t wish to be my friend, is it? Very well. I suppose I’ll just have to find some other little boy who wants to play with me.

Another little boy? No, Mama. No. I’m sorry, Mama. She kissed his forehead. He smiled back, reached for her hand, forgetting all about his complaint as they made their way back up to the main deck of the ship.

Outside, the delicious aroma of roast beef and potatoes floated on the salty night air. Good. He was hungry. Sticking out his tongue, he twisted it up and down trying to taste the smell, but couldn’t.

Why had the man with the funny hat looked at him like that? He turned to the side rail, pressed his face between the wooden posts, watched the sky turn into pretty colours of orange and pink. He liked orange, but favoured blue. The smooth, black waters below reflected the bright colours, just like his mama’s hand mirror.

As the fancy lights began to fade, tiny cold prickles travelled his body, and he shivered. He didn’t like the dark water.

Swallowing hard, he moved away from the edge, sat back down on the deck. He wasn’t afraid, but didn’t want to get too close—just in case. Ooh. A tiny crab scuttled over a pile of ropes, and glancing up, he became intrigued as his father held up a long shiny object to one eye and closed the other tight.

A ripple of excited laughter escaped him. A toy perhaps? Whatever it was, he wanted to play too. Papa should share.

He tugged at his father’s long black coat. Papa, can I see? I want to look too. Please, Papa. Please.

Father wouldn’t give it to him, told him instead to be patient.

He frowned. But why? It’s not fair, I want to look too. I promise to be careful and not drop it. I’m four, Papa, a big boy. Not a little baby. Tears stung his eyes.

No. Not going to cry. He could be stubborn too. Taking in a deep breath, he clenched his fists, puffed out his chest and huffed, then followed it with another. And another. Papa turned away and coughed. Why didn’t he look at him? He looked around for Mama, who would make Papa share, and pulled at his father’s coat.

Very well, Marcus. Papa sighed, his mouth grumpy-looking. Maybe he was cross. Never mind, he’d gotten the toy. Careful now. That’s it. A telescope is a delicate instrument. Papa’s warm smile said he forgave him, and he grinned back, wiping away the tears along the back of one of his sleeves, then his runny nose along the other.

He climbed upon a small barrel, and stood still as Papa helped him hold the magical device.

What is a teclasop, Papa? he asked, looking into the dark lens with his eye closed. Nothing there.

Telescope, his father corrected. It allows you to view things from a great distance away. You see. No, like this. Open your eyes, son.

With eyes open wide, he held up the glass and peered through. Ooh, Papa. Look! Look! I can see lots of things. Reaching forward, he wiggled his fingers over the end of the instrument.

Hah! He looked up at his papa, who smiled and shook his head, then turned away. Who was he talking to? Oh, the man with the funny hat. Bright blue hat with lots of feathers. Nice. He’d wanted to wear that too, but Papa had said no, it wasn’t proper.

Balancing the heavy object against the rail, he searched out to sea. Despite the sky getting dark, he could still see all kinds of things. A fat white seagull darted along the water, skimming the surface for food, and made him squeal with delight. He moved his face away from the device.

But where had the creature gone?

Holding the eyeglass tight, he slid down off the barrel, sat on the deck, turned the teclasop around and looked in the big lens.

How did they get in there, Papa?

His father turned around. The things you see aren’t in there. I told you, they are far away. Papa crouched down next to him. What do you mean by ‘they,’ Marcus? What did you see?

The birds, Papa. See? How can they fly? Can they get out? he asked. And the ship. Won’t the people fall off if I turn the teclasop upside down?

You’re standing on the ship, son. Were you looking at the sails?

No. He pushed the telescope closed, shouted with triumph then offered up the object to his Papa. The ship’s inside. Look.

Papa took the magical toy from him, made it long and turned it toward the water. Sitting there, he noticed his Papa’s long, black boots. He liked the way they were always shiny. Sometimes at home he would make patterns on them with his spit, but Papa would get cross and ask Redmond to polish them again. After a few minutes, his papa lowered the glass and looked down at him. He didn’t look happy anymore. Maybe he was cross with him.

In search of the runaway crab, he overheard his papa talking with the man with the funny hat, who didn’t sound very happy either.

Squinting, he looked out through the railing. Something dark headed toward them. He smiled. It was a ship.

His mother grasped his hand tight, startling him. But, the sudden noise of shouting crewmen and heavy footsteps on the deck meant little to him. He’d other things to worry about.

Am I going to bed early, Mama? Perhaps he’d broken Papa’s toy and was being punished.

He’d not yet eaten supper and was very hungry. At home, Mama would never have sent him to sleep without his dinner. Perhaps it was waiting for them in their cabin. He hoped so.

A loud gurgling sound echoed from his rumbling stomach. Did you hear that, Mama? he said, rather pleased by the sound. That was my tummy.

Yes, Marcus.

I’m hungry, Mama. My tummy’s hungry too. Hear?

Yes, I know, my love. She didn’t turn around.

He stared at her. Her voiced sounded strange to him. Not soft and sweet, but far away and afraid.

Why are you scared, Mama? Did she know what lived under the waves? The crewmen had told him stories when his parents weren’t listening. Tales of sea monsters. Enormous creatures with long tentacles and sharp teeth. They could crush entire ships and swallow little boys whole in a single gulp.

He took a deep breath as every creak and groan in the darkened hall around him took on a life of its own, clutched Mama’s hand. Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll protect you from the monsters if they try to get in. He wouldn’t be afraid, but he would hold on to her, just in case she was.

After closing the cabin door behind her, she locked it then dashed across to a large chest sitting against the hull. Dropping to her knees, she opened the lid and pulled out the contents, tossing them to the floor.

Curious, he moved closer. I want to help. Standing next to her, he reached in and began dragging out clothes, books and trinkets, stopping every now and then to admire a potential treasure. Look. Papa’s watch. No. Here, Mama. I can’t touch.

Mama nodded, but didn’t take the golden watch from him. With care, he put it on the floor and dusted his hands, as she took a tiny package from the bottom of the chest then held it to her heart.

A present for him?

But she didn’t give it to him. She closed her eyes and hung her head.

Are you praying? he whispered. Can I pray too? As he’d learned in church, he knelt down beside her and closed his eyes, put his hands together.

A fierce explosion jolted the ship, making him jump. Then a cry came from the deck above, followed by terrible shouting.

Swallowing, he sucked in a deep breath and reached for Mama’s hand.

The monsters.

Seeing the fear in her eyes, he wrapped his arms tight around her neck and squeezed. Don’t worry, Mama. It’s just the monsters. Mr. Smythe said they are scary, but I’m not afraid. I’ll protect you. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in. He loved her smell, the scent of rosewater soap he’d given her last Christmas. She used it every day, just before she brushed her hair. And when they’d been home, he’d sat at the end of her bed and told her about what he’d found in the garden, certain she liked the worms best. Every night as she tucked him into bed, he could smell the soap on her skin.

Mama clutched his arm, almost hurting his wrist, and put her other hand against her mouth.

Don’t be afraid, Mama.

Nodding, she let go his arm and reached up into her hair, taking out a long pretty ribbon. For him? He liked ribbons and string, almost as much as worms.

She opened the little package taken from the trunk. Poor mama, her hands were shaking. An old looking black key tumbled out into her palm.

Strange. He’d never seen that key before.

Another explosion rocked the ship, and she dropped it onto the floor. The room tilted to one side, the key scattered across the boards.

I’ll get it, Mama.

As he reached for the object, shouts echoed from somewhere in the hall. He stood still, looked up at the ceiling. More explosions rattled the rocking vessel. The noise hurt his ears and he almost lost his balance.

Undeterred, he grabbed the key and ran back to his mother. Here, Mama.

Holding him close, she kissed him on the cheek harder than he could ever recall.

He gasped. There were tears in her eyes. He’d never seen her weep before. Don’t cry, Mama. His own eyes began to water, and he frowned. He didn’t like to cry.

She threaded the key onto the ribbon, tied it around his neck and tucked it beneath his shirt.

For him? He looked down at it and poked it with his finger. It felt cold against his chest.

I need you to hide, my love. Do you hear me? She touched under his chin. I have to tell you something very special, Marcus. Are you listening?

Yes, Mama. More noises, loud and fierce like beasts, began howling at their door. He swallowed hard, his eyes wide open as dust fell from the roof above.

The monsters were here.

Marcus! The door threatened to collapse under the pounding, and Mama made a strange sound. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away. No time…get into the trunk, my love. Quickly!

He nodded and climbed into the deep wooden chest.

Yes, that’s it. Now stay hidden, Marcus, I beg you. I know you are brave and clever. You can hide so well.

Tears stung his eyes as she began to close the heavy lid. His legs shook. Where was she going? Mama…

Shh, my love. Please, please do not make a sound. You must pretend, just like our game. Keep still and silent. And no matter what you hear, do not come out ’til I or Papa come for you. Do you promise? She kissed her fingers then pressed them to his lips.

Yes, Mama, he whispered, blew her a kiss back and frowned as the closing lid made her sad blue eyes disappear from view.

It was dark inside the trunk. He wiggled around, curled up on his side and rested his head on his arm. Not much room. He could hear his own heart beating, but unlike before in the ship’s hold, this time he knew why. Mama. He’d tried to be brave, but what if Papa couldn’t stop the monsters from getting in? And hidden in the trunk, he couldn’t help her.

A deafening crash followed by a strangled cry made his body tremble.

Mama.

Something heavy thumped the floor next to the trunk.

He shuddered. His heart pumped harder as a thousand pounding footsteps echoed all around him. Ears covered, eyes closed tight, he couldn’t stop shaking. Go away! Go away!

His head spun, dizzy from the noise and fear gripping his chest. He wanted to get out, to find Mama, but he’d promised her he would do as she’d asked. Wrapping his arms around his head, he curled into a tight ball and cried in silence.

He would wait for them.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but rubbing his tired eyes, he noticed it was dark all around him. Must be still inside the trunk. Wiping his brow, he felt hot and thirsty. His back was sore and legs needed to stretch.

Mama hadn’t come. He bit down on his bottom lip.

Maybe she’d found another little boy to play with after all.

Hot tears spilt from his eyes and rolled down his cheek, but he sniffed the silly things away and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He hated to cry.

A sudden noise against the chest made him jump. His heart beat faster and a strange feeling bubbled in his tummy.

He lay there and listened, trying his best to stay still.

More sounds came from outside. Not like before. No crashes or shouting, cries from terrible beasts trying to rip the ship apart.

Through the quiet a rattling sound came from the front of the trunk. Something was trying to open it. Mama? Papa?

But why didn’t they call to him?

He’d been deciding if he should shout out to them or keep his promise to wait, when a stream of light blinded him. Not knowing what to do, he curled back into a ball.

A deep husky roar hailed from above. Something rough and strong grabbed his ankle and hauled him upward. It hurt. Hanging upside down and blinking with shock, he shaded his eyes and looked upon his attacker.

He gasped.

The monsters were real.

Chapter 1

London Docks, 1793

N o, I will not keep my voice down and I will not go away! Grace Hathaway stood her ground, refusing to be ignored. Yet, despite her fervent protest, the wiry old seafarer shrugged and continued rolling a barrel toward the gangway.

Blasted man.

Frustrated, she glanced out upon the waking harbour where rays of pale yellow and orange danced on top of the deep murky water, cutting through the ghostly mists that hovered around the docks.

Her chest tightened. She was running out of time.

Dawn approached, and the ship moored before her remained the last to be loaded with provisions. It was also the last ship she’d attempted to board.

Smaller and much older looking than the rest, it had not been her first choice, but the other captains had refused to permit a single woman to travel on their vessels. Honestly. They treated her like a child, when she was far from it. She would be turning twenty in just a few short months, more than old enough to travel without escort. At least, that’s what she’d convinced her cousin, Victoria, of…and herself.

A deep sigh escaped her as she glanced around the dock once more. Old or not, this ship was her only chance.

Barrels of ale, baskets of vegetables, and salted beef swung in cargo nets over her head and onto the ship. Yes. At least there appeared to be enough stores to last a crew an entire month, if not longer. This aging vessel would have to do.

Surely, one more passenger wouldn’t be a burden.

She reached within her pelisse for her money purse, ensuring it still hung from her arm. Thieves were fast, and with a light touch. She must be wary of everyone. And as dangerous as her situation was, she accepted the risks. The dark, shadowy dock of the Thames was the last place she’d thought of ever visiting alone, but she’d had no choice. The hackney driver had protested her leaving his carriage, insisted he return her home where she couldn’t get into any harm. The docks, he’d said, could swallow up people, never to be seen again.

A small lump rose to her throat.

Dirty, ocean-weary sailors brushed past her dark blue cloak and grimaced. Seems women weren’t a welcome sight on the port. Unless, of course, she was the sort only money and gin could buy.

Sir! Determined, she continued her pursuit of the old man until he stopped, turned around and spat on the ground in front of her. Disgusting. I insist you reconsider.

He snorted and shook his head. And I tells ya miss, there be no room for a woman on this ship!

What nonsense. You have a ship. And, ships take passengers. You certainly have enough provisions. Besides, I can pay you.

The grumpy sailor paused and eyed her warily.

At last. She had his attention. Yes…yes, I can pay you.

His eyes narrowed. How much?

Why-why…fifty…no… No. One hundred pounds. She reached into her coat, tugged at the folds of money then produced them for the blackguard to see. But her excitement turned to dismay at his sour countenance.

Gold. He snarled at her and leaned closer. Do ye have gold?

Her heart sank. He was clearly unimpressed.

No, but this is money. See? Real bank notes, I swear it!

They’re nothin’ but paper, and no good where we’re goin’. Now, be off wit yer before I slice ye into pretty blond ribbons.

Her chest rose and fell with indignation. He was bluffing, he had to be.

She refused to let the odious man get the better of her. Cut me into ribbons? You will do no such thing. What kind of man are you to threaten a defenceless woman with violence? All I asked was for safe passage and you dare to threaten me harm? I will talk to your captain!

Well, ’e won’t want ta talk ta ye. Squinting, he eyed her up and down, a sneer creeping across his face. Perhaps he imagined what a woman was doing hanging around the docks at such a God forsaken hour unattended. He never could have guessed. Unless, of course, you ain’t plannin’ on doin’ no talkin’.

Her mouth dropped open at his insinuation. Wretched creature. Although tempted to give him a piece of her mind, this horrible, nasty little man might prove her last chance for escape.

She forced a sweet smile, hoping it would change his mind. Surely, sir, your captain is a reasonable man and wouldn’t dream of taking such liberties. I am a lady after all.

A lady, ye say? He screwed up his craggy face and snarled as if he were about to bite. "And we’re pirates."

With a start, she jumped back and gasped. Heavens. She was in trouble. And, when he reached for something within his shirt, her resolve crumbled.

Panic