Read The Pirate Takes A Bride for Free Online Page B

been worse. Her left hand was secured to his right, not to the bed or one of the other furnishings. True, she would have to free herself without waking him in order to escape. While he continued to doze, she considered her options. Where would she go if she were free? She certainly didn’t relish sleeping in a hammock with the crew. She supposed Nick—Captain Robin Hood—had given some orders concerning her, but could she trust a bunch of lawless pirates to adhere to any rules? When she considered where she was and with whom, Nick seemed a safer bet than the pirates outside the captain’s cabin.
    And for the moment, Nick appeared very safe, indeed. He must have been exhausted, as he’d claimed, because he had fallen asleep almost instantly last night and had not moved.
    Except once.
    She knew it was once because he’d fallen asleep on his back, ensuring that she had so little of the berth to herself she could barely draw a deep breath, and then while she was still debating the possibility of escape, he’d rolled on his side, gathered her in his arms, and draped one leg and one arm over her. She’d protested, but she didn’t think he even woke. Her elbow to his abdomen did nothing except make him snuffle and go back to snoring softly.
    She’d sighed deeply and tried to make the best of it. At least she could breathe, even if the scent was a mixture of Nick’s laundered linen shirt and sea spray. Surely he would wake soon. It was almost sunrise. Then maybe she would be given something to eat and drink. Now she regretted throwing the food and wine in Mr. Fellowes’s face yesterday. She should have eaten it, especially since she didn’t know when she’d eat again.
    On the whole, she regretted much of the past few days. She’d been impetuous and impulsive and acted out of anger rather than good judgment. And where had her rash behavior led her? She was married to Lord Nicholas Martingale. If that wasn’t bad enough, she was his captive on a pirate ship bound for some island or other where he expected to find trouble.
    This was not how her life was supposed to turn out. She was supposed to enjoy the London Season, attending every ball and soiree, dancing until dawn, and being called a diamond of the first water. She was supposed to have so many beaux she could not count them. She was supposed to discreetly choose among them for generous lovers until she was a spinster and did not have to be quite so discreet any longer. Then she would fall in love with a wild and poetic man and travel the world with him.
    How was any of that going to happen now? Even if she managed to find an escape from this marriage—and she knew little of the law, but what she did know was marriage was difficult to escape—she wouldn’t be accepted into any decent house. Not that she cared so much, but those deemed
decent
usually had the best ballrooms and most eligible gentleman attending. She wouldn’t be received anywhere. She wouldn’t even be received at home! How was she going to afford to live? Forget ball gowns. She would have no means to feed herself.
    She sighed loudly as the truth became more and more apparent. She was stuck with Nick Martingale.
    “What are you sighing about?” a deep voice rumbled in her ear.
    She let out a small squeak of surprise. He hadn’t so much as moved to indicate he was awake. “I’m sighing because you have me trapped.” In more than one way. She pushed at his arm, and he obediently withdrew it and his leg. For a moment, she almost missed his warmth.
    “There was a time you welcomed my embrace,” he said.
    She sat, grateful to shift positions and glared down at him. “That was before I knew the real you. That was when I was under your spell.”
    “Spell?” His brows rose. “Are you insinuating I used some sort of magic to make you want me? I assure you my natural charm and charisma are all I need.”
    She could not bear to listen to his arrogant remarks any longer. “Pardon me if I must