As the lieutenants shoved me forward, I fought fearlessly, furiously, thrashing, spitting, and doing what any man would do in my position. Instinct took over until all that existed was the savage impetuosity to protect myself.
But in the end, I was too small, unarmed, outnumbered, and quickly subdued.
My knees scraped along the planks as the lieutenants shoved and kicked me into the hold. I landed on my backside, and the sound of the gate locking surged bile through my chest.
I was a pirate captain, dammit. I’d maimed, tortured, and slaughtered some decisively evil and scary men. I didn’t possess Priest’s magnetic ability to win over a crowd, but I could command them with my eyes closed. I just needed them to see beyond my femaleness.
A pair of trousers would have been splendid right now.
Breathing deeply, I slowed the heave of my lungs, rose to my full height, and steeled my spine. Then I turned and faced forty ravenous rogues.
“Point me to your captain.” I searched the overcrowded space, taking an inventory of scars, long greasy braids, suspicious skin sores, and creatures crawling in beards.
If I’d kept Priest in the bilge for a month without a wash bucket, would he have reached this level of pungency? I didn’t think so, but I was rather inclined to favor his appearance, no matter everything else that was wrong with him.
The pack of thieves leered with wild eyes. Some sniffed the air in front of me. Others grunted throaty noises.
None pointed out the captain.
My teeth sawed the insides of my cheeks. It didn’t matter if they all came from the same crew or met one another in this hold. Pirates were a democratic breed, and they always had a leader.
“Were you hit on your heads?” I balled my hands at my sides, concealing the nervous shaking. “Or do you not speak the king’s English?”
“The king doesn’t speak English, lassie.” The low, rough Scottish accent came from somewhere in the back.
It was true that King George—who hailed from Germany to England—refused to speak in the tongue of his inherited realm. But that was neither here nor there.
What concerned me was the owner of that Scottish brogue. He was the leader, and if he knew things about the English king, he wasn’t without intellect. That didn’t bode well for me. Neither did the rising agitation rippling through his men.
I faced the direction of the voice. “Show yourself, Highlander.”
The stench of body odor shifted around me before ruthless fingers captured my wrists. Innumerable hands. There were so many attackers all at once it only took seconds to restrain my limbs and shove me deep into the sticky horde of bodies.
When I hit the back wall, I could no longer see the gate. Half a dozen men held my arms and legs, stretching me like an X with my spine against the wooden rib of the warship’s hull.
Full-body tremors pummeled through me. It couldn’t be helped. My arms twisted in sweaty clutches, my hands slipping uselessly, unable to find a gripping place. The more I struggled, the stronger and heavier my attackers became, multiplying in numbers and moving like a tidal wave until they formed a single unpreventable force that crashed against me, bruised my skin, and bellowed vile promises.
“Back off!” I screamed and gnashed my teeth. “Release me! I can help you!”
Everything stopped. The pirates who restrained me didn’t let go, but the others fell back. The swarm divided, leaving a narrow path for one man to approach.
The captain.
Long red hair tangled around a matching beard that hung to his chest. Luminous green eyes shone out of a narrow face that might have been attractive, if not for the foreboding sneer that slashed across it.
He prowled toward me, tall, lean, and shirtless. The scars on his freckled torso and arms painted a gruesome constellation. Frayed trousers sagged low on trim hips. No boots. No jewelry. Nothing to indicate who he was.
But there was only one known redheaded pirate captain from Scotland, and his noxious reputation preceded him.
“Madwulf MacNally.” I jutted my chin, my nostrils pulsing with the rush of my breaths. “I’m Bennett Sharp.”
My name flickered recognition in his eyes before they hardened into cold green jewels. “I dinna care if you’re the Countess of Nithsdale. Right now all you are is caged, just like the rest of us.”
My stomach clenched, but I made my mouth smile. “I can help you escape.”
“You?” His chuckle spread a chill across my skin. “The only release