In The Arms Of My Pirate

No Heaven For Pirates

This is book 3 of Arms Of My Love series and jumps right into the story where Octavia's part left off in book 2. Because of this, I recommend reading book 2 if you are confused about the fast pace of the beginning.

December 12th, 1813.

London, England.

"My father does not have a son, Mr. Collins, but he does have me," Octavia Palmer rose to her full height and stared firmly at her family's solicitor. "And this is what I can do for him."

Mr. Collins shrank under her confident brown gaze and lifted his handkerchief as he coughed delicately. "B-but Miss Palmer, this is your dowry we are discussing—"

Octavia puffed the curls of her bangs out of her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. One advantage of having a lily-livered solicitor was that she could easily bully him into agreeing to her demands. The disadvantage was that it meant suffering through his bowing and scraping. Utterly tedious.

"Yes, and therefore I should have the right to do with it as I see fit," she retorted.

Mr. Collins cocked his head and rubbed his fingers together anxiously. "Um, not exactly, it still belongs to your father."

"It won't do my father much good if he dies in debtors' prison," her voice grew dark and the cowardly solicitor's head bowed. "Now, arrange for the money to be paid to my father's investors in monthly increments."

"For how long?" Mr. Collin's balding head glistened with sweat as he retrieved the necessary papers.

Octavia looked down at her worn gloves, tucking her fingers into her palm to hide the holes that were developing at the tips. How she missed buying new clothes whenever she pleased. But feeding her parents was more important than her vanity at the moment. "Until it runs out."

"And then what?" he gulped, the paper slipping from his fingers.

She swallowed a sigh of long suffering. How she despised weak-minded and cowardly individuals. "Pray that I can find a suitable business venture... or a wealthy husband."

"Heaven help us," Mr. Collins moaned.

"Oh, do shut up," Octavia snapped. "Just make the arrangements."

She slammed the door to his office behind her and tied the ribbons of her bonnet expertly under her chin as she proceeded down the stairs and onto the streets of London. The skies hung dark and grey with snow-laden clouds above her, but she could not risk so much as a freckle. She was a young woman in need of a wealthy husband, after all.

Her beautiful face, good figure, and empty promise of a large dowry were her only bargaining chips

Things hadn't always been so dire. Just the year before, her father was a fabulously wealthy merchant with three ships bringing valuable goods from the Orient, but that had changed the day America declared war against England... again. Their ship, The Emperor, had been docked in Baltimore when it was suddenly overtaken by American soldiers who said they were seizing it in the name of their government, and all the crew and passengers were now prisoners of war.

It was her quick thinking that saved them that day. Her father was solely concerned with retrieving his prized treasure from his cabin, but she pushed him over the railing and into the water of the harbor before the soldiers caught him. They swam out to a British dinghy that had escaped from another ship, and barely rowed out of the harbor. At the coast they'd met up with The Eurydice, a British merchant ship, and secured passage back home.