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  The Pirate’s Bluestocking

  A Pirates of Britannia World Novel

  Chasity Bowlin

  Copyright © 2019 Chasity Bowlin

  Kindle Edition

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Pirates of Britannia Connected World publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by DragonMedia Publishing, Inc. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Pirates of Britannia connected series by Kathryn Le Veque and Eliza Knight remain exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kathryn Le Veque and/or Eliza Knight, or their affiliates or licensors. All characters created by the author of this novel remain the copyrighted property of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  Published by DragonMedia, Inc.

  The Pirates of Britannia World

  Seduced by the Pirate

  by Maggi Andersen

  Captured by the Mercenary

  by Brenna Ash

  God of the Seas

  by Alex Aston

  Lord Corsair

  by Sydney Jane Baily

  Stolen by Starlight

  by Avril Borthiry

  The Pirate’s Bluestocking

  by Chasity Bowlin

  The Righteous Side of Wicked

  by Jennifer Bray-Weber

  The de Wolfe of Wharf Street

  by Elizabeth Ellen Carter

  The Pirate’s Jewel

  by Ruth A. Casie

  The Blood Reaver

  by Barbara Devlin

  The Pirate’s Temptation

  by Tara Kingston

  Savage of the Sea

  The Sea Devil

  by Eliza Knight

  Leader of Titans

  Sea Wolfe

  by Kathryn Le Veque

  The Marauder

  by Anna Markland

  The Sea Lyon

  The Sea Lord: Devils of the Deep

  by Hildie McQueen

  Pearls of Fire

  by Meara Platt

  Plunder by Knight

  Beast of the Bay

  by Mia Pride

  The Seafaring Rogue

  The Sea Hellion

  by Sky Purington

  Laird of the Deep

  by B.J. Scott

  Raider of the Deep

  by Jennae Vale

  The Ravishing Rees

  The Savage Sabre

  The Beast of Blades

  The Rebellious Red

  by Rosamund Winchester

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Pirates of Britannia World

  The Legend of the Pirates of Britannia

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The Legend of the Pirates of Britannia

  In the year of our Lord 854, a wee lad by the name of Arthur MacAlpin set out on an adventure that would turn the tides of his fortune, for what could be more exciting than being feared and showered with gold?

  Arthur wanted to be king. A sovereign as great as King Arthur, who came hundreds of years before him. The legendary knight who was able to pull a magical sword from stone, met ladies in lakes, and vanquished evil with a vast following who worshipped him. But while that King Arthur brought to mind dreamlike images of a round table surrounded by chivalrous knights and the ladies they romanced, MacAlpin wanted to summon night terrors from every babe, woman, and man.

  Aye, MacAlpin, king of the pirates of Britannia would be a name most feared. A name that crossed children’s lips when the candles were blown out at night. When a shadow passed over a wall, was it the pirate king? When a ship sailed into port in the dark hours of night, was it him?

  As the fourth son of the conquering Pictish King Cináed, Arthur wanted to prove himself to his father. He wanted to make his father proud, and show him that he, too, could be a conqueror. King Cináed was praised widely for having run off the Vikings, for saving his people, for amassing a vast and strong army. No one would dare encroach on his conquered lands when they would have to face the end of his blade.

  Arthur wanted that, too. He wanted to be feared. Awed. To hold his sword up and have devils come flying from the tip.

  So, it was on a fateful summer night in 854 that, at the age of ten and nine, Arthur amassed a crew of young and roguish Picts and stealthily commandeered one of his father’s ships. They blackened the sails to hide them from those on watch and began an adventure that would last a lifetime and beyond.

  The lads trolled the seas, boarding ships and sacking small coastal villages. In fact, they even sailed so far north as to raid a Viking village in the name of his father. By the time they returned to Oban, and the seat of King Cináed, all of Scotland was raging about Arthur’s atrocities. Confused, he tried to explain, but his father would not listen and would not allow him back into the castle.

  King Cináed banished his youngest son from the land, condemned his acts as evil and told him he never wanted to see him again.

  Enraged and experiencing an underlying layer of mortification, Arthur took to the seas, gathering men as he went, and building a family he could trust that would not shun him. They ravaged the sea as well as the land—using his clan’s name as a lasting insult to his father for turning him out.

  The legendary Pirate King was rumored to be merciless, the type of vengeful pirate who would drown a babe in his mother’s own milk if she didn’t give him the pearls at her neck. But like most rumors, they were mostly steeped in falsehoods meant to intimidate. In fact, there may have been a wee boy or two he saved from an untimely fate. Whenever they came across a lad or lass in need, as Arthur himself had once been, they took them into the fold.

  One ship became two. And then three, four, five, until a score of ships with blackened sails roamed the seas.

  These were his warriors. A legion of men who adored him, respected him, followed him, and, together, they wreaked havoc on the blood ties that had sent him away. And generations upon generations, country upon country, they would spread far and wide until people feared them from horizon to horizon. Every pirate king to follow would be named MacAlpin, so his father’s banishment would never be forgotten.

  Forever lords of the sea. A daring brotherhood, where honor among thieves reigns supreme, and crushing their enemies is a thrilling pastime.

  These are the pirates of Britannia, and here are their stories….

  Chapter One

  The cart rolled along the lane and Declan Kelly made it a point to keep his head down. He was clear of Stoke-on-Trent, but anyone who frequented the town would likely have seen wanted posters with his face on them. It was a busy road, with lots of folks going to and fro. It wouldn’t do to be reckless.

  Being as discreet as possible, he hoped not to be recognized. With his hat pulled low and the rather impressive beard he’d grown, he was doing all right on that score. Of course, nothing could camouflage the scar that bisected his cheek. That had been courtesy of Samford, but he n
o longer had to concern himself with vengeance on that score. William had seen to it rightly enough. Recklessly and without thought, to be sure, but so long as the bastard was dead, Declan couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Running into him had been a shock to say the least. Samford had made it a point to avoid them since he’d left them high and dry after making off with a shipment of brandy. The man had cost them a fortune.

  Then there was the other matter—that Samford had turned a blind eye while his wretched uncle had intended to make off with Declan’s younger sister and niece for purposes he could only begin to imagine. Just thinking of what might have happened to those he held dearest made him sweat. Muttering a curse under his breath, he pushed those thoughts aside. He couldn’t afford to be distracted at the moment.

  There was another cart coming down the lane so Declan steered to the left as much as possible and let them pass. Head low, he tipped his hat with his face tucked almost against his shoulder so no one would recognize him. As the carriage lurched forward again, he heard a small “oomph” from the back of it. There had been other noises that had made him question how securely the cart was loaded, but that sound—that hadn’t just been the shifting of cargo. That sound had been decidedly feminine. It appeared that someone had hitched a ride.

  With a muttered curse, Declan hopped down from the box and walked to the back of the cart. “Who’s in there? Show yourself!” He called the demands out but wasn’t really expecting them to be answered.

  One quick jerk and the tarp covering the cargo came loose. He threw it back and stared at the disheveled creature tucked in amongst the casks of brandy and the boxes of contraband tea and tobacco. The thick mass of her brown hair was tangled and in wild disarray. She looked frightened. As well she should be, he thought. What sort of desperate situation was she in that she’d take her chances with a random stranger on the road?

  Tipping his hat back, a dangerous move, he wanted to get a better look at her. “Who are you and what are you doing in this cart?”

  Her shoulders stiffened perceptibly and her chin came up in a defiant fashion as she said, “I’m trying to get to the nearest port. I was eloping and I changed my mind. He refused to return me home and I have no money for the stage.”

  Lie. It was as plain to him as the back of his hand that she was lying. The question was why. But it came to him quickly. Samford. There had been no opportunity for her to tuck herself into hiding in the back of that cart since William had put a pistol ball in the bounder. If there was one cardinal rule in their business, it was to leave no witnesses. Deciding to see how far she’d carry the ruse, he queried, “So you were going to stow away on board my ship then?”

  “You have a ship?”

  The doe-eyed innocence was a bit much. She’d overplayed her hand and they both knew it. “Do you really expect me to believe you didn’t know?” he demanded with a laugh.

  “Why would I know? You were in a landlocked city!” This proclamation was entirely too well thought out. She’d clearly had quite a bit of time in the back of the cart to ponder what she might say if caught.

  Declan rubbed his beard, hating the heaviness and itchiness of it. “I’m infamous, love,” he explained ruefully.

  “Infamous for what?” she demanded, hoping to just brazen it out.

  Moving around to the side of the cart, he touched the fabric of her skirts. It was threatening in a veiled way. Certainly, it would make her wary of him. “Piracy.” There was no reason to add that he was quite possibly a total failure as a pirate with a third of his crew scattered to the far winds, another third locked in a Cornish gaol and the remainder waiting patiently aboard a ship that hadn’t seen a profitable run in months. Of course, that could all be traced back to Samford, as well. He’d turned them in when they’d gone to collect the debt owed.

  Her eyes widened with fear, but just as quickly as that telltale response showed, she tamped it down. Her gaze shuttered and she offered, with a pragmatism that was staggering, “You could ransom me back to my father. He’s very wealthy. It would get you paid and get me home. I’ll cause you no trouble.”

  To his credit, Declan didn’t howl with laughter, but he certainly couldn’t keep the grin that tugged at his lips from creeping forth. He liked her. He liked that she didn’t cower despite her fear, that she was strong-minded and reasonable. It didn’t hurt that beneath that hideously ugly frock she wore, she had an ample and very tempting figure. Women who looked soft but were anything but had always been a weakness for him—a fact which sealed both their fates. Witness or not, she wouldn’t die by his hand. But he’d need to be damned sure she couldn’t carry any tales. “Any woman who says she’s no trouble will be nothing but trouble. That’s a fact if ever there was one. And I don’t do kidnapping for ransom. I like my jobs to be tidy. But I’ll get you to Ellesmere Port and help you sell that bauble on your finger for a good enough price to get you home. But you have to do something for me.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, her hesitation proof of her reticence and possibly her good sense.

  Declan eyed her once more, allowing his gaze to sweep over her far more boldly than he should. Certainly more boldly than any lady should allow. And whatever her situation, it was clear to him by the cut and quality of her revolting gown that she was a lady, even if one with questionable taste. “How good are you at flirting?”

  “I’m not. Not at all,” she replied with a shake of her head.

  With his gaze still roaming over her, he paused on the generous curve of her bosom. “No, I didn’t think you would be. Flirty women are never so buttoned up. But you’ve got enough curves hiding under that plain gown that if we dress you right, it won’t even matter. Come on down from there and ride up on the box lest you injure yourself permanently and I go from pirate to murderer.”

  “I thought pirates were murderers,” she retorted hotly.

  Drawing his gaze away from her frustratingly concealed décolletage, Declan schooled his expression into one that was hard and inscrutable. “Only when we have to be.” He wouldn’t hurt her. Despite what people thought of him, he’d never hurt a woman. But if she had a little fear of him, it might save both their necks.

  The girl blinked at him in surprise but offered no immediate response. Finally, after a moment, Declan extended his hand toward her. “Do you want my help or not?”

  She didn’t take his hand, at least not readily. Instead, she looked at him with wide brown eyes that showed anything but trust. “I do. You’ll really help me get home?” she asked.

  It was Declan’s turn to reconsider his choices. She looked so innocent and so very weary in that moment that he knew he couldn’t drag her into his plan. She would get chewed up and spit out. “I’ll make sure they don’t cheat you at the pawnbrokers. And I’ll make sure the ship you’re on is one manned by men that can be trusted. As far as men can be, that is.”

  Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand in his and he helped her from the back of the cart. Her limp was immediately apparent to him, though he couldn’t be sure if it was from her position in the cart or something more permanent. But it wasn’t something he’d ask her about, not yet at any rate.

  “What’s your name, love?” he queried, knowing the endearment would get her back up.

  “It isn’t love,” she snapped, as she settled onto the box. “It’s Kitty!”

  Settling in beside her, he smiled. “Now tell me, Kitty, where exactly was this cart when you climbed up and concealed yourself in the back of it?”

  Immediately, she stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Well,” he replied, eyeing her with displeasure. “What I mean is that this cart was only unattended twice. Once when I loaded it, and once more when I parked it near an alleyway and took care of some business. Either way, you’d have been in the back of it at that time and heard the business I was taking care of. Which was it?”

  Her eyes widened and then the words came out in a rush. “I don’t care if yo
u killed him. He was a terrible man, he deserved to die, and frankly, by doing so, you’ve spared me the horrible fate of being married to him. So you needn’t worry that I’ll be telling anyone about your business.”

  He smiled again but there was a threat in it that both of them were well aware of. Helping her was taking valuable time that he needed to use for other things. “Maybe I was wrong about you, Kitty. Maybe when you said you’d be no trouble at all you meant it. Let’s hope for both our sakes that you’re right. Because any trouble you make for me, I’ll give right back. You understand?”

  “I understand,” she agreed.

  “Then we have a deal… for the moment,” he said, and then picked up the reins once more. A gentle click and the horse lurched forward, the ill-sprung cart bumping along as his passenger clung to the seat.

  Chapter Two

  By the time they’d halted near the docks at Ellesmere, Kitty was exhausted from her constant state of worry and uncertainty, not to mention the physical rigors of traveling in an ill-sprung cart. The man beside her was a complete unknown to her, a person whose motives and trustworthiness were a complete mystery to her. Still, it was better than the alternative of being left in that alley or dumped on the side of the road. Thus far, he hadn’t been insulting or abusive which was at least an improvement from the treatment she had received at the hands of Samford.

  Her traveling companion disembarked from the cart first. He walked away, spoke to two rough-looking men who then returned with him to the cart and begin unloading the cargo from the back. Leaving them to the task, he moved around the side of the cart toward her and offered her his hand to help her down. “Let’s get to the pawnbroker and see about selling off those trinkets of yours.”

  Clambering down off the seat, Kitty accepted his aid and was grateful for it. Her leg buckled and she stumbled.

  “Easy now,” he said. “Are you injured?”