Read Online Devil’s Cove (Tortured Souls) by R.C. Matthews - Free Book Online
Authors: R.C. Matthews
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back a laugh, and Devlin felt his own lips twitching at her observation. His staff was unconventional, and though he hadn’t been inclined to apprise Grace of the truth, he imagined she might find it a comfort under the current circumstances.
“Many of my staff follow me at sea and on land,” Devlin said. “They are all well trained in both affairs of the house and aboard ship. Hatchet is my second mate. You’re quite safe here.”
“Is that how you earned your name, then?” she inquired. “At sea? Pray tell, why do they call you Hatchet?”
Hatchet grinned, baring a golden eyetooth, and looked to Devlin for permission to share the tale. Grace leaned in like a man around a roaring bonfire sharing battle stories with his cronies, and the gesture was so endearing, he nodded his approval.
“Well, miss, we were in the midst of a fierce battle, set upon by a nasty pirate and his backstabbing crew,” Hatchet began. “It was dark, and the sea raged around us, as if sharing our anger at being set upon in the middle of the night. I was fending off a tenacious heathen when I saw our captain in a spot of trouble. He’s a fair good fighter, but even I would’ve struggled with three men attacking me. Problem was, the captain fought on the lower deck whereas I remained on the upper deck, too far to be of any real use to him. That is, until I realized my opponent wielded a hatchet. I took him down with one swift parry of my dagger to the gut and hurled the hatchet at one of the motley crew attacking the captain.”
Grace’s hand flew to her chest. “My goodness, that was a bold move. What if you’d killed the captain instead?”
Devlin lifted a brow. The wench almost sounded disappointed he hadn’t met his demise.
Hatchet grinned at Devlin and winked. “With three men attacking him, I figured he could die at the hands of his enemy or by the toss of my hatchet. He might’ve thanked me for death in that moment, the battle was so fierce, and we’d all grown weary.”
“The hatchet became his weapon of choice,” Devlin said, drawing her attention back to him. “As well as his nickname.”
Red roses flushed Grace’s cheeks, and she sighed. “I knew there must be an adventurous tale behind it; however, I admit that exceeded my expectations.” She placed her hand on Hatchet’s arm, once again surprising Devlin with her ability to surmise her surroundings despite her blindness, and she grinned. “You must promise to tell Brother Anselm sometime.”
Devlin chuckled and shook his head. “Anyone fascinated by
Grimms’ Fairy Tales
would enjoy Hatchet’s story, and he has many more to hold the attention of an old man.”
She turned to Devlin. “Perhaps you have a story or two up your sleeve? I should very much like to hear your nickname.”
“They call him the Devil,” Hatchet said.
Grace rubbed one hand over her chest and whispered, “So it’s true. Like
The Devil with Three Golden Hairs
.”
Devlin turned an icy stare on his second mate. He didn’t care to scare the woman out of his service before she had even begun. Besides, as far as the good people of Devil’s Cove knew, he was a respectable privateer, and he preferred to keep it that way. His well-laid plans to reclaim his title and destroy his mother depended on his acceptance in good society, and woe to the man who got in the way of those plans. The bitch had sent him to Hell, and he had every intention of returning the favor.
“I only jest,” Hatchet amended with an apologetic tip of his head at Devlin. “You’re far too easy to entertain, Miss Grace. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve also heard the rumors. Forgive me for pulling your leg.”
She chuckled but began wringing her hands. “You got me!” Licking her lips, she locked her hands behind her back and finally stopped fidgeting. “Well, you must miss the sea and fresh air. How can you endure being cooped up in a mansion?”
“I don’t mind,” Hatchet said. “Mealtime on the
“Many of my staff follow me at sea and on land,” Devlin said. “They are all well trained in both affairs of the house and aboard ship. Hatchet is my second mate. You’re quite safe here.”
“Is that how you earned your name, then?” she inquired. “At sea? Pray tell, why do they call you Hatchet?”
Hatchet grinned, baring a golden eyetooth, and looked to Devlin for permission to share the tale. Grace leaned in like a man around a roaring bonfire sharing battle stories with his cronies, and the gesture was so endearing, he nodded his approval.
“Well, miss, we were in the midst of a fierce battle, set upon by a nasty pirate and his backstabbing crew,” Hatchet began. “It was dark, and the sea raged around us, as if sharing our anger at being set upon in the middle of the night. I was fending off a tenacious heathen when I saw our captain in a spot of trouble. He’s a fair good fighter, but even I would’ve struggled with three men attacking me. Problem was, the captain fought on the lower deck whereas I remained on the upper deck, too far to be of any real use to him. That is, until I realized my opponent wielded a hatchet. I took him down with one swift parry of my dagger to the gut and hurled the hatchet at one of the motley crew attacking the captain.”
Grace’s hand flew to her chest. “My goodness, that was a bold move. What if you’d killed the captain instead?”
Devlin lifted a brow. The wench almost sounded disappointed he hadn’t met his demise.
Hatchet grinned at Devlin and winked. “With three men attacking him, I figured he could die at the hands of his enemy or by the toss of my hatchet. He might’ve thanked me for death in that moment, the battle was so fierce, and we’d all grown weary.”
“The hatchet became his weapon of choice,” Devlin said, drawing her attention back to him. “As well as his nickname.”
Red roses flushed Grace’s cheeks, and she sighed. “I knew there must be an adventurous tale behind it; however, I admit that exceeded my expectations.” She placed her hand on Hatchet’s arm, once again surprising Devlin with her ability to surmise her surroundings despite her blindness, and she grinned. “You must promise to tell Brother Anselm sometime.”
Devlin chuckled and shook his head. “Anyone fascinated by
Grimms’ Fairy Tales
would enjoy Hatchet’s story, and he has many more to hold the attention of an old man.”
She turned to Devlin. “Perhaps you have a story or two up your sleeve? I should very much like to hear your nickname.”
“They call him the Devil,” Hatchet said.
Grace rubbed one hand over her chest and whispered, “So it’s true. Like
The Devil with Three Golden Hairs
.”
Devlin turned an icy stare on his second mate. He didn’t care to scare the woman out of his service before she had even begun. Besides, as far as the good people of Devil’s Cove knew, he was a respectable privateer, and he preferred to keep it that way. His well-laid plans to reclaim his title and destroy his mother depended on his acceptance in good society, and woe to the man who got in the way of those plans. The bitch had sent him to Hell, and he had every intention of returning the favor.
“I only jest,” Hatchet amended with an apologetic tip of his head at Devlin. “You’re far too easy to entertain, Miss Grace. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve also heard the rumors. Forgive me for pulling your leg.”
She chuckled but began wringing her hands. “You got me!” Licking her lips, she locked her hands behind her back and finally stopped fidgeting. “Well, you must miss the sea and fresh air. How can you endure being cooped up in a mansion?”
“I don’t mind,” Hatchet said. “Mealtime on the
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