Pearls of Fire, page 1
Pearls of Fire
Pirates of Britannia Series, Book 13
Meara Platt
Copyright © 2018 Myra Platt
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.
The Pirates of Britannia World
Savage of the Sea
by Eliza Knight
Leader of Titans
by Kathryn Le Veque
The Sea Devil
by Eliza Knight
Sea Wolfe
by Kathryn Le Veque
The Sea Lyon
by Hildie McQueen
The Blood Reaver
by Barbara Devlin
Plunder by Knight
by Mia Pride
The Seafaring Rogue
by Sky Purington
Stolen by Starlight
by Avril Borthiry
The Ravishing Rees
by Rosamund Winchester
The Marauder
by Anna Markland
The Pirate’s Temptation
by Tara Kingston
Pearls of Fire
by Meara Platt
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Pirates of Britannia World
About the Book
Author’s Note
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Also by Meara Platt
About the Author
Emma Langdon’s life was changed by a kiss that never happened. Hugh Le Brecque, the handsome viscount meant to do the kissing never showed up, and Emma has been trying to forget him ever since. But when thieves break into her elegant home to steal a family heirloom known as the Pearls of Fire, a necklace she believes is cursed, Emma knows she must turn to Hugh for help. Her father, driven mad with grief, has run off after the thieves and Emma fears his life is now in danger. Can she trust Hugh to find her father? Or will he betray her for those mysterious pearls that shine with the brilliance of a red-gold flame and seem to hold a dark power over men?
Hugh Le Brecque, once a respected privateer in service of the Crown and English peer known as Viscount Brixham, is now a convicted pirate with no intention of hanging for a crime he did not commit. He has already made plans to seek revenge on the men who framed him when Emma Langdon storms back into his life, entering his cell and offering a bargain he cannot refuse – take her to the East Indies to help her find her father, and she will use her powerful connections to see his conviction overturned. A two hundred year old journal written by Emma’s ancestor who first acquired the Pearls of Fire is the only clue to her father’s whereabouts. Will Hugh fall under the spell of these mysterious pearls? Or is Emma’s enchanting innocence the greater danger to his heart?
Dear Reader,
One day I met a gem hunter who had traveled to ancient lands in search of mythical pearls rumored to be the red-gold fire of the burning sun. He’d hunted for these fabled gems in the South Pacific and the South China Seas where legend said they would be found. The South Pacific is known for its miles of oyster beds, but the gem hunter knew that no ordinary oyster had created these fiery pearls. So, where did they come from? Had any sea creature made them? Or had they, according to myth, broken off from the sun and fallen to earth? As I listened in fascination to his tale, a story developed in my mind. What else could I call it but Pearls of Fire? Can you guess which sea creature made these magnificent pearls? Read on and you’ll find out.
With love and adventure,
Meara
Chapter One
Surrey, England
February, 1814
The natives call them malo-malo. Pearls of Death.
Lady Emma Langdon shivered as she began to read her ancestor’s journal well past midnight on a chill winter night, the wind howling mournfully outside her window. She was alone in her chamber, lost in her enormous bed, too distraught over her mother’s recent death to sleep, for hers was yet another death directly linked to the Pearls of Fire and their legendary curse.
Emma fingered the soft leather binding of the two hundred year old journal that her parents had forbidden her ever to read, feeling its strength and, ironically, the warm pulse of life softly beating beneath her touch. It seemed as though the book was alive and throbbing, urging her to unravel its secrets. She stared at the ominous words inscribed on its cover, afraid to read on, but knowing she must. Beware the pearls of death.
Indeed, her mother was dead, the Langdon pearls stolen, and her father was now teetering on the verge of madness. This journal was her only chance to save him.
She flipped the page, lightly brushing her finger across the first entry, one obviously added afterward to serve as a caution to all greedy souls. She read it in a tremulous whisper. “I, Stefan Langdon, bastard son of the third Earl of Bourne, prospered after acquiring the necklace known as the Pearls of Fire. I had never seen such jewels, as brilliant as a red-gold flame. Many believe these pearls fell from the sun and attribute to it the source of their mystical power. Some also believe the pearls are cursed and that anyone possessing them will die a horrible and unnatural death. The curse is real. Fear it and respect it. I can only say that the curse did not attach to me, for I learned the secret of the pearls, and with that knowledge returned to England, reconciled with my father, and by royal decree and pardon, became the fourth Earl of Bourne.”
The descendants of Stefan Langdon had prospered as well, Emma knew, glancing about her imposing chamber. Her bed was of the finest mahogany and ornately carved. Her dusky rose coverlet and matching curtains were of the rarest silk. Indeed, Langdon Heath, ancestral home to the earls of Bourne and her home since birth, was one of the grandest in England.
Also one of the unhappiest.
Emma returned her attention to the journal, skimming forward several chapters. “I have been brought by natives to the tiny village of Wamsisi. I do not recall arriving here, for I was on the verge of death and delirious for almost a fortnight. Even now, the damp tropic heat threatens to hasten my demise. There are no cool ocean breezes or bracing mountain winds to be found anywhere on this equatorial island of Buru.”
She inhaled sharply.
Buru?
Her mother had whispered this name as she lay dying in her arms. It hadn’t made sense at the time, but this was too much of a coincidence. Had her mother been referring to this island with her last breath? All along, Emma had believed she’d been naming her assailant. Emma’s heart beat faster, the sudden realization of an overlooked clue raising a glimmer of hope. She would notify the authorities of her discovery first thing in the morning.
But what of her father? He’d read the journal many times over and must have understood the significance of the whispered name, yet he’d never said a word to anyone about it.
What was he hiding?
An urgent knock at her door startled her out of her musings. She slipped the forbidden journal under her covers and hastily rose from her bed. “Who is it?”
“Martine,” her mother’s trusted maid replied through the paneled door. “Please, Lady Emma. I must speak to you.”
“Yes, of course.” She allowed Martine to enter, noting that the woman’s eyes appeared strained and she was fervently wringing her hands.
“Forgive me, ma petite. But I noticed your light was on and just ’ad to tell you.” French by birth, Martine had lived in England for the past thirty years, yet had never shed her accent which was quite pronounced at the moment. She was of similar age to her mother and had been more of a friend to her than a maid.
Emma shut the door for privacy, concerned to see Martine more overset than she’d ever seen her before. “What’s wrong? Is it Father?”
She nodded. “For days I ’ave been trying to tell him, but he won’t listen… and now I fear ’e is gone.”
“Gone? How is it possible?” Emma’s heart skipped quickening beats. “I left instructions he wasn’t to be left alone.” Although Emma was merely twenty years old, she had been the one to
“Wait! Please listen.” Martine held her back with a desperate grip on her arm when she started for her father’s chamber. “Your mother was murdered because she ’appened upon the thieves as they forced open the safe.”
“I know. I heard her screams and found her in the library.” Emma emitted a shattered breath. She’d repeated the story often enough to the authorities. Despite the repetition, the memory remained vivid and unbearable. All her prayers, all her tending, hadn’t been enough to save her beloved mother.
She started for the door again, but Martine’s grip only tightened. “Your father noticed the pearls were missing and assumed they had been stolen.”
“Assumed? They were stolen.”
Martine’s eyes were now wild as she gazed at Emma with a disquieting intensity. “That’s what he and everyone else thought, but I know the truth.”
“What truth? What are you suggesting?” Emma suddenly inhaled sharply. “Do you think I stole the Langdon pearls?”
“No, ma petite. You are the dearest child that ever lived.” She eased her grasp on Emma’s arm. “No one took them, not even the thieves.”
“I don’t understand.”
Tears glistened in Martine’s eyes. “Your mother swore me to secrecy, but I can no longer hide the truth from you. The pearls were not in the safe when it was broken open by those villains because your mother had already removed them.”
Emma’s heart shot into her throat. “Removed them? Where are they now? Tell me, Martine. No more secrets. No more lies. I must know everything.”
Chapter Two
Portsmouth Prison
July 1814
“Are you certain you wish to go through with this meeting, Lady Emma?” Sir Robert Holcroft, the Langdon family’s trusted solicitor, asked as they passed through Portsmouth Prison’s unforgiving stone walls.
“Yes,” Emma said softly, glancing at the thick, black iron bars that adorned the windows in the visitor’s hall. “I have no choice. All reputable sources have failed me. It is time to turn to the disreputable ones.”
She had allowed her advisors and the authorities to conduct the search for her father, but the trail now led to the island of Buru, far beyond England’s pristine shores. These same authorities and advisors had convinced her the journey to Buru was too dangerous for her to attempt. So she’d allowed them to take the lead and kept herself busy restoring order to the Langdon estate and business properties.
Her work had left her drained, exhausted, but never enough to prevent the haunting dreams from invading her sleep and disrupting her waking hours. Indeed, those dreams had become so frightening in their intensity of late, those Pearls of Fire calling to her so fiercely, that she knew something had to be done immediately.
Holding tightly to hope and the thin fragment of a clue, Emma knew she was about to embark on a dangerous voyage into a new world, one that might swallow her up as it had the rest of her family. Yet, she did not fear where the journey might lead, for it would bring her that much closer to finding her father.
“This way, m’lady,” the uniformed guard said, running a large, calloused hand through his shaggy hair. “Though ’taint no place fer the genteel likes of ye.”
“Take my arm, my dear,” Sir Robert said, leading her forward with obvious reluctance.
She held him back a moment and cast him a warm smile. “You’ve served my family well, and I could not have made it through these past months without your support. I fear that I must place an even greater burden on you, but I am confident you will shine in your duties as you always have.”
He cast her a hesitant but sincere smile. “It has been my honor to serve your family.”
“And we are so grateful to you.” She returned his smile with a bright one of her own. “I wish to put you in charge of all the Langdon holdings while I am gone. With you in command, I know all will continue to run in perfect order until my return.”
Sir Robert emitted a ragged sigh. “Lady Emma, you must not do this. I am filled with dread that you will come to harm. You cannot possibly trust this pirate.”
The guard made a grunting sound. “Aye, that Le Brecque, he’s a wily fellow.”
“I know the nature of the beast,” she said and then turned to cast Sir Robert a nod of reassurance. But she doubted he was fooled. “Sir Robert, he made me no promises. I have only myself to blame for what happened in the past.”
“You, child? You were young and innocent, just turned eighteen. I warned your parents it was too soon to allow you to enter your debut season. Indeed, you are still far too young and innocent to handle this rogue. He ought to have known better than to–”
“The point is, he did me no harm. Stirring a young girl’s romantic hopes is not a crime unless one acts upon them, and he did not.” Quite the opposite, Hugh Le Brecque, then known as Viscount Brixham, had never bothered to show up for their assignation in Lord Jameson’s moonlit garden. Obviously, she hadn’t been nearly as important to him as he’d been to her. “The authorities have done all they can in their investigation. They will not send men to search outside of England, so what am I to do? Wait a lifetime in the hope my father will return? You are the one who uncovered the Portsmouth connection and it has led us here to Hugh Le Brecque.”
“But–”
“You know he is the only one who can help me find my father. Come along, Sir Robert. Our guard has moved too far ahead of us. I do not wish to lose him.”
The odors of rotted food, unwashed bodies, and inexcusably poor sanitation assaulted Emma’s senses as she made her way deeper into the forbidding structure. Rusted iron hinges groaned against each massive wooden door that the guard shoved open.
The stench was unbearable, but so was the ache in Emma’s heart.
“It is the only way,” she repeated under her breath, reminding herself of the reason she had come all this distance. Hugh Le Brecque had sailed the East Indies as a privateer for the Crown, possibly knew the islands better than anyone else alive. Sir Robert, despite his protests, would never have brought her to Plymouth had he truly believed the rogue would harm her.
They continued down a set of dimly lit stairs that opened onto a narrow, stone hallway lined with cells. “He’s in ’ere,” the guard said, pointing to the third door on the right.
Sir Robert brought a perfumed handkerchief to his nose. “I’m not certain I can go in.”
Emma lifted the little black veil of her hat and brushed a stray gold curl off her brow. “Then I’ll go in alone.”
Poor Sir Robert, his face turned ashen and he appeared ready to faint on the spot. “No! We proceed together or not at all.”
She smiled at the dear man. “Together, it is then.”
Emma held her breath as the guard inserted his key into the lock and opened the cell door. With pounding heart, she waited for the guard to enter the dimly lit chamber ahead of her, and then followed closely on his heels.
He kicked a large, heavily bearded form stretched out on the dank stone floor. “There’s a lady ’ere to see you.”
Suddenly, the guard’s legs were pulled out from under him and in the next moment, the large form stood over him. “Touch me again and I’ll kill you.”
The guard gave a desperate cry and began to crawl backward toward the door. “Get out while you can, m’lady!”
Sir Robert gripped her elbow. “Quickly, Emma! This was a terrible mistake. The man is obviously deranged.”
“No.” She knew, even as Hugh hauled the jailor to his feet and held him with enough force to pin him to the stone wall, that he would not harm the man.
Hugh Le Brecque, though angry, was a man very much in control of his actions.
Always in control.
At least, she hoped so. Her life depended on it.
“Enough, my lord,” she said with as much authority as she could muster while her heart pounded through her ears. “You’ve rattled the man quite thoroughly. You don’t really wish to hurt him, do you?”
