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had the upper hand now. His surprise at the man’s size had
    given him pause but he’d moved beyond that now.
    “My daughter should be well away from here by now, on a ship.”
    Charles saw through the bluff for what it was. “Indeed, she is. That much I can tell you is true.”
    Logan’s eyes appeared to study him and Charles laughed. “Curiosity killed the cat.”
    The meaty hands tightened on the bars and the blue eyes grew so intense they would’ve burned a
    hole through him. Charles smirked. “She is safe at the moment if that is what you’re hoping to hear.”
    The visible relief was exactly what he’d been looking for. So the man loved his daughter. Too
    much. And that was ultimately what would be his downfall. And of course, it would be Charles’s
    enjoyment.
    “She’s quite wayward, I take it. Headstrong, much like her father is, I suspect. Especially now, after
    having met you for the first time. I see now the similarities between the two. Although, I will tell you this,
    I had not known a daughter had been born of the union between you and the viscount’s wife until today.”
    Logan’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. “Do I know you?”
    Charles chuckled and crossed the area with slow, measured steps. Those blue eyes followed him
    step for step. “I do believe I just said we’ve met for the first time.”
    “And I didn’t catch your name?”
    Charles’s grin smoothed into a full smile as he paused to face the man. “Call me Charles, or
    Lieutenant. I will answer to either.”
    A sinister hardness appeared in the pirate’s eyes. “No last name? Or too afraid to tell me.”
    Charles laughed enjoying himself. “Ahhh, all will be revealed in due time, mon bon pirate ami .”
    “ Nous ne sommes pas d'ami .”
    “No, we are not friends.” So, the pirate was as well educated as he’d thought. Charles crossed his
    arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. “All good things come to those who wait, mon ami.”
    Charles pushed off the wall and headed toward the hatch. He turned back. “Although, I will tell you
    this, De’haviland. Your daughter is a wanted woman now. She took up arms against the King and has
    stolen an English vessel.”
    “What vessel?”
    Charles grinned. “Why, the Serpent if you must know. Poor Blac has made a vow to me this day. He
    will get his ship back and bring the girl back to me himself. I am looking forward to seeing how this plays
    out, and your delightful daughter provided me with the perfect form of torture. I plan to keep you around
    long enough to watch your own daughter hang.”
    The animal-like roar followed Charles out of the hull and echoed through the cove.

    Four
    Two years later
    1691

    The Serpent’s Lady.
    The two-masted Brigantine floated in the harbor as gentle swells of water lapped at her bow. Her
    tall, dual masts rose into the dimming light of the sunset like slender-fingered bones, rising out of the clear
    water.
    Blac stepped away from the dock rail and breathed in the salt air. An entire year since he’d last
    seen the beauty of both the ship and the girl.
    Several times, he’d come close to capturing Angel, but again and again, she had escaped, sailing
    away with a wave and kiss blown across the wind. He could still feel the sting of it as if she’d slapped
    his face. Her taunts inspired his rage and passion. He’d never been more determined to have something.
    And soon, he would.
    His eyes traced every sleek line of the boat. The vessel’s figurehead, once a serpent, had now been
    carved into a bare-breasted woman with billowing hair. Her body was wrapped in the coils of a sea
    serpent. The woman very much resembled Angel, and he wondered who had carved it. A sudden need to
    throttle the man overcame him and he gritted his teeth. Had she removed her clothes to pose for such a
    thing?
    He clasped and unclasped his fists.
    Two men roamed the main deck, coiling ropes and securing rigging. A third man dangled from