Miss Minerva's Pirate Mishap Maggie Dallen (top books of all time .txt) 📖

cold, but she pressed on, treading carefully over the sharp shells and rocks.

“So silly,” she muttered to herself as she approached the edge of her favorite cave. “You’ll be laughing at yourself soon enough,” she said out loud.

She reached the cave’s edge and shook her head at her own silliness, a rueful laugh of self-deprecation already bubbling up in her chest as she braced a hand against the lip and leaned forward to peer around the edge.

The laughter died in an instant as her eyes adjusted to the flicker of firelight within the cave.

A fire. In her cave. Her breathing grew ragged, and her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. Fear. Curiosity.

Excitement.

Minerva swallowed down the thought and forced her reasonable mind into action. She ought to go rouse her father. She told herself that as she took a step farther into the cave, her eyes adjusting to the change of lighting.

And the change in the cave.

Aside from a small fire, there were crates upon crates stacked up high. And a trunk sat beside the crates with other odd-shaped goods covered in cloth. One of the items wasn’t covered properly and something shiny and gold glinted in the firelight.

Treasure.

The word hit her like a blow to the chest.

No, surely not. This could not be real.

This could not be happening.

But when she blinked and held up the lantern for a better view, the goods were still there. But if this was treasure, then that meant...

Pirates.

No sooner had the word rang in her skull like a bell sounding an alarm that a figure stepped out from the shadows in the back of the cave. “So,” a low voice drawled. “You’ve decided to come after all.”

Fear slammed into Minerva so quickly, she nearly dropped her lantern. As it were, she kept her grip on the brass handle, but it fell to her side as her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

To scream? To run? Thoughts on what she ought to do chased through her mind, but in the end she stood there frozen as the dark silhouette of a man took shape out of the shadows.

“You took your sweet time about it,” the man muttered.

She kept her mouth shut.

He thought he knew who she was. He thought she was here...on purpose.

That helped to steady her as she moved the lantern to the side, so it was partially hidden behind the cave’s edge thus thrusting her into the shadows.

He moved closer.

She should call for help. But who would hear? Between the wind and the distance, there was no way her father and sisters would hear her shouts, and the men in town were much too far away. Even the fort which bordered the sea’s edge was likely too far for anyone to hear unless she was very, very lucky.

The stranger took another step forward.

If she could not shout for help, she could run.

Except, another step and he would be close enough for her to see his face in the firelight. And that information might prove useful.

If she waited, he might unwittingly give something away. He might reveal who he was actually waiting for.

If he was here, in her cave, on her shores, then the person he meant to meet must have been someone from nearby. Perhaps someone from her very own town.

There.

Finally, she saw his face.

Handsome.

Rugged.

She shook off those descriptors. Dark and dangerous, more like.

But dark and dangerous as he might be, there was no denying the sharp cut of his scruffy jaw, or his broad, even features as he glowered at her through the darkness.

“Well?” he said, a little louder this time. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

Chapter 3

The hooded figure lingered too long at the edge of the cave.

The coward’s reticence put Marcus on edge. Steady now, he wished to say to the greedy fool who’d asked to meet him here.

Only cowards worked with pirates, Marcus well knew. Greedy, cunning cowards. For if they had any true character at all, they wouldn’t have to resort to helping thieves at sea for their own gain.

But smugglers were as common as rats in England, and he wasn’t about to waste his time pursuing each and every greedy fool he came across. But this one...

He took a step closer.

This one had information that he needed. This one was his link to the ring of pirates who were banding together. Causing problems for the American ships and starting to garner the attention of the British Admiralty. These newcomers hadn’t gotten involved in the slave trade...yet. Not so far as he knew, at least.

And they never would, if he could put a stop to it.

Pirates working alone were bad enough, but when they banded together...? Well, everyone knew there was power in numbers. The Barbary corsairs were finally starting to lose some of their power at sea and no one wanted to see a new force rise up and take its place.

And besides, this new crew of thieves at sea...this felt personal. Rumor had it their leader was British.

Marcus might have eschewed his title years ago, and these days he tried not to step foot on British soil unless it was absolutely necessary to ensure his family’s safety, but he was still a British gentleman to his core.

One last mission. That was the phrase that had led him to this shoreline, to this cave. It was the litany that kept him focused. It kept his mind on the present rather than the looming future.

He took another step. Almost there.

If only this fellow weren’t so wary.

If only he could see the man’s face.

He’d been sure there was a mistake when he’d intercepted the last message from a pirate crew he’d been trailing for months now.

What sort of fool would set a meeting place so close to a naval encampment that was guarding the shoreline?

He narrowed his eyes as the cloaked figure edged backward.

Was the cad losing his nerve?

Of course he was.

But it was no matter. The smuggler was close enough now that Marcus could tackle him if