Because Blair Colm was the kind of man who would keep Red’s dead body, knowing full well that they would not strike while there was a prayer she was alive.
Someone muttered an anguished, “Oh, God!”
And then Logan realized he was the one who had spoken.
He looked toward shore again and saw her hand move. She was alive, he realized with an overwhelming sense of relief.
He watched as Blair and his men got into the last of the tenders.
The second boat was just ahead of the one Red was on, six men aboard, the distance between the boats too narrow for Brendan’s men to fire without fear of killing Red.
The first began to sink in earnest, still a good distance from Colm’s ship.
Bless her, Red had done her work well.
The men began yelling, cursing, and several started to swim, trying to reach the other two boats.
Blair Colm never sat. He balanced easily, even in the small rowboat, with Red’s weight over his shoulder.
He stared toward the Eagle, and Logan would have sworn that, despite the distance, the man’s eyes met his.
His very look defied them. He smiled in satisfaction as his men rowed.
One of the men from the first boat was struggling in the water. Finally he slipped beneath the surface and drowned, but Colm didn’t appear to so much as notice. He was returning to his ship, presumably to sail away to regroup and repair.
With Red as his prisoner.
“Where are the other two?” Brendan asked, almost as if he spoke to himself.
Logan looked around. Neither Lord Bethany nor Cassandra were anywhere to be seen, though he was pleased to see that the second boat was sinking rapidly.
He lowered the glass. “She led them to the caves,” he said, praying he was right and that the other two weren’t dead. Unfortunately, he knew that Lord Bethany would have fought to the death to save his daughter, just as Cassandra would have died before letting harm come to her father.
He swung the glass back to watch Blair Colm.
From the crow’s nest, Jimmy O’Hara shouted down, “Survivors! Eight o’clock!”
“I see them, Jimmy, send a boat to the side, quick, get a good swimmer out there, too!”
As Brendan gave orders to rescue the remains of Blair’s crew, Logan thrust the glass toward the other man and gripped the rail. “I’m going after her. I can’t let him—”
“Wait!”
Logan almost punched Brendan when the other man reached out and stopped him.
“Treat your wounds first, while we see what his next move will be.”
“His next move will be to hurt her.”
“His next move will be to try to bring down this ship. We must stop him, and then we will rescue Red,” Brendan told him.
“Keep her angle fair to fire and escape a volley in return,” Logan said. “He lost powder after your first shot, so he’ll be hampered. But we won’t have much time. I think he’ll want to take a few shots, then limp away, and we can’t let him do so with Red in custody.”
“I know how to sail a ship and how to fight,” Brendan told him quietly.
Logan nodded painfully, then felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Silent Sam. “Come on. The surgeon will stitch you up. Hagar is fixing up a fine bag of tricks for you.”
Logan allowed himself to be led away. He even accepted a bottle of rum and swigged deeply when the ship’s surgeon came with his needle and thread to patch up the worst of his wounds.
After the surgeon left. Logan was still seated on the bunk in the captain’s quarters when the door opened and Cassandra burst in, falling to her knees before him.
“Oh, God, Logan!”
“Cassie,” he said, touching her wet hair gently. “Your father…?”
“Is well, thank God. They are tending to him, dry clothes, warmed rum…”
He nodded, smiling at her. His fingers trembled. “I’m so glad you’re alive. Were you…? Did they…?”
She shook her head, taking his hand, kissing it.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he said. “You were coming for me. I pray that God forgives me the harm I’ve caused you. More, I pray that you forgive me.”
“Of course I forgive you. How could you ever doubt?”
“You are a generous woman, Cassandra Bethany. And I…I must go and save another.”
“Bobbie?” she asked with an understanding smile.
“Aye,” he said, and looked away, wondering how much of his feeling for Red she had discerned in his eyes.
“Friends should always seek to save their friends,” she told him, then blushed. “Oh, Logan, time is short, and…and this may be the only chance we have to speak of this, so I pray you will indulge me. You are a wonderful man and my dearest friend, but…I have come to realize that I do not love you as a wife should love a husband. And—” She looked up and smiled again, this time radiantly. “I believe you do not…love me as you once thought, either.” She waved him to silence when he would have spoken, then went on. “Oh, I know that you do love me. But you are not in love with me.”
“Cassandra,” he murmured, “you are a beauty. You possess a brilliant mind. You have compassion, courage—”
“I am indeed quite wonderful,” she told him, laughing now. “And I will be loved. As I believe you are already loved. And I believe you love her in return, do you not?”
He knew she could read the truth both of her words and his feelings in his eyes.
“You are a rare woman, Cassandra Bethany,” he said. “And someday, I pray, I will be able to tell you so at length. But now…now I must go and rescue…Bobbie.”
“Of course. I would expect you to do no less.”
She rose and started to leave. “I’ll see to my father. And we will be here when you return.” She paused, frowning. “Logan?”
“Aye?”
“Just who is she?”
He smiled awkwardly. “She is Red Robert.”
RED WAS DIMLY aware of a familiar rocking sensation and knew she was aboard a ship.
More specifically, she was on a bed, in a ship’s cabin.
She heard an explosion.
There were shouts, followed by another explosion, this one farther away.
Ships…
Ships at sea, exchanging cannon fire.
She struggled up, hope in her heart that somehow a miracle had occurred and she was in her own cabin, safe, and far from the reaches of Blair Colm.
But she knew immediately that it was not so.
She was in enemy territory. Stretched on the length of what must be Blair Colm’s bunk, judging by the size and opulence of the cabin. She caught her head between her hands, still dizzy. When it seemed the cabin was at last standing still, she got to her feet. At first she staggered, but she managed to make her way to the captain’s table, where she steadied herself. The remnants of a dice game and mugs half-filled with grog were sitting there. Even pieces of gold had been left behind.
She must have been unceremoniously dumped here, she decided, because the fight for survival took precedence. She might well have a chance to escape.
She moved to the door. If she could slip out, if she could find a weapon…she wouldn’t hesitate this time. She would kill Blair Colm without hesitation.
She breathed deeply, gathering her strength, making certain she had her balance. Then she tried the door.
And found she had been bolted in from the outside.
She cursed, slamming her fist against the wood. There had to be a way out!
Again she heard the boom of a cannon, and an explosion very close by, then felt the repercussion as Colm’s ship fired in turn. She moved to the window and saw so much black powder filling the air that she wondered whether either of them could even see the other as they continued to fire.
Had Cassandra and her father made good their escape?
She prayed that they had, because no matter what Logan said, Cassandra was a fitting match for him.
She had to stop feeling sorry for herself and forget the pain that was swamping her heart. She had much more to worry about now.
Like killing Blair Colm, for starters.
She looked around the deck and saw that it was slick with blood. Men were sliding in it as they rushed around to protect rigging and move barrels. Several men were working on the mainsail, and they were having tremendous difficulty finding their footing.
And there were bodies, men who had been killed not by cannon shot but by the sword and the knife, which could only mean that…
Logan had been here.
But where was he now?
Again, it seemed her heart sank.
Had he been killed as he fought and his body tossed overboard to become food for the fish?
The sails were rising high against the morning sky. She watched as they began to billow, and she felt the breeze quicken as the ship began to move.
It occurred to her that she could break a window and escape. But the panes were small and set in broad wooden frames. She would have to break several to manage her escape.
She went to the captain’s chair behind the desk, attempted to lift it and realized she would never be able to swing it hard enough to break anything. She hurriedly looked around the room and settled on a stool. She was on her way toward the window when the door burst open with a resounding bang.
She froze.
Blair Colm was back.
“I’LL ENGAGE HER in battle until I’ve given you fair time.” Brendan lowered his voice. “This is…well, suicide, you know,” he said, and swallowed painfully.
Logan shook his head. “I learned a little bit about her. I know several places where I can hide.” He smiled. “And I’m well-armed.” He lifted the satchel Hagar had given him. “Grenades. Four pistols. Lots of shot. Six knives…And a flare. When I’ve got Red and we’ve jumped ship, I’ll set off the flare.”
“And we’ll blow her out of the water, I swear it,” Brendan vowed.
“Follow closely, as closely as you dare,” Logan said.
“Aye, Captain Laird Haggerty. That I will,” Brendan promised.
“If we’re going, we’ve got to go,” Silent Sam said.
Logan didn’t look around. He simply hoisted himself to the rail, then followed Silent Sam down the slide rope to the waiting longboat, the one that had been sent to rescue Cassandra and Horatio.
Once in the boat, they might have been in the midst of hell. So much fire had raged between the two ships that the air itself had turned black.
Silent Sam rowed strongly.
Silently.
The powder began to disperse. “She’s just ahead,” Sam said.
“Aye, thank you Sam.”
“God go with you, Logan.”
“And with you, Sam.”
“Logan? Bring her back, both of ye alive.”
“Aye, Sam. I intend to.”
He left his boots in the bottom of the boat, then dove into the water. The heavy, waterproof bag dragged him down, and the saltwater stung his wounds.
Good. The pain gave him strength.
He swam hard, squinting against the salt and the acrid powder in the air.
The ship was ahead, and it was moving. Picking up speed. He gritted his teeth and swam harder. He had to catch it. And yet, despite his determination, he began to fear his strength would fail.
He would drown.
And Red would die.
Die as his mother had died all those years ago.
Die fighting…
He strained harder, harder. He thought of letting his weapons go but knew that would be folly.
He tasted salt as a wave poured into his mouth. He coughed hard, but kept swimming. The ship was ahead, just ahead….
He grasped for a bracket on the hull. It eluded him.
He kicked with all his strength and reached, and that time he caught the bracket, though his arm felt almost ripped from the socket.
But he held. He held fast and breathed. Then he adjusted the weight of the bag over his shoulder and began to climb.
It was slow and tedious. He inched his way up, and all the while the ship picked up speed and the wind tore at him.
He was climbing up the stern, and now he strained and pulled himself up the railing just far enough to see what was happening on board, seeking the proper moment to pull himself over the rail on board and head for a place to hide. The crew were center ship, working to repair the sails and rigging that had been damaged by cannon fire.
At the first opportunity he crawled over the rail and leapt down silently to the deck.
Burnt and ruined canvas and rigging lay in a pile near the hoist of a longboat. Logan hurried over and ducked below the canvas, where he began to slide his knives into sheaths fastened about his arms and ankles. He buckled on a brace of pistols, then tucked the last two knives beneath the gun belt. He drew out the flare and hooked it to the belt, then stuffed a waist bag with the grenades.
He took a deep breath and waited. So long as the crew was going about the business of securing the sails and setting their desperate pace, there was no way he could hope to slip silently past and find Red, held captive either in Blair Colm’s cabin or somewhere in the lower decks.
One way or the other, he would find her, but he had to bide his time….
So he waited.
And it was by far the most difficult thing he had ever done.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BRENDAN STOOD AT the helm, his eyes hard on the ship they followed, taking care to keep the vessel in sight, taking equal care to make sure she didn’t suddenly veer and bring her guns back around in an attempt to knock them out of the water.
His ship had more guns, but it was also more vulnerable, being built for speed. His guns were not as efficient against the thick hull of the merchantman as Colm’s guns would be against his lighter ship.
It was a careful cat-and-mouse game. He didn’t intend to lose sight of the ship carrying Red, but he would be no good to her if he let Colm sink the Eagle.
A tap on his shoulder startled him, he had been holding so hard to the wheel with such great concentration.
“Lad, you’ve got to give yourself a rest. I can take her.”
It was Hagar, and Brendan stared at him blankly for a moment.
“Trust me, lad. I’ve never let you down.”
Brendan inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He looked at his own fingers, which were white with tension as he clasped the wheel, and nodded. “Crow’s nest?” he asked.
“Silent Sam is keeping the best watch any man can.”
“He’ll save her,” Brendan muttered. “If he made it aboard.”
Hagar smiled. “He made it.”
Brendan frowned at him. He had sounded so certain.
“Sam saw him with a glass from the crow’s nest. He made it. Take a rest now, Brendan. If you break the wheel, we’ll all be doomed, you know.”
Brendan nodded in grim acknowledgment and gave up the helm to the other man. “Is there coffee?” he asked.
“I’ll see some is sent to you. Rest. I know you won’t sleep, but get off your feet. There’s bound to be a battle soon enough, and you need to be ready for it,” Hagar advised.
Brendan nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Aye, mate.”
Brendan headed into the captain’s cabin, rubbing his eyes as he walked straight for the bunk and sat down on the edge of the thin mattress.
A scream startled him, and he vaulted to his feet and stared down at the bed in confusion.
Cassandra, Lady Bethany, was peering at him in terror that turned quickly to embarrassment. Apparently the crew had seen to her comfort while he had been at the helm. Her torn and damaged clothing was gone, and she was dressed from Red’s supply of shirts and breeches. She sat up, and he saw that she was barefoot, with her hair streaming down her back in a glorious tangle. The clothing clung to her body in provocative w
ays, and he quickly raised his gaze to meet her eyes, which were wide and now registered her own confusion.
“I am ever so sorry,” he apologized hurriedly. “I had no idea you were here. Forgive me. I’ll leave you.”
“No, no…” she said quickly. “I never intended to fall asleep. How did I fall asleep when…Oh, God, Logan…How could I? I must be the most horrible person.”
“No, you’re not horrible,” Brendan protested. She was so distressed that he quickly went down on his knees in front of her, taking her hands. “You were a prisoner. You endured days of hell with that bas—That scourge of sea and land. If you found some rest, you mustn’t condemn yourself in any way. Instinct is helping you to survive, even though your heart and mind are fighting it.”
She looked at him, her eyes seeming even larger than they had been a moment ago. “Are you…Bobbie’s brother?” she asked.
“Cousin,” he said. “Are we that alike, then?”
“Yes, you are,” she said gravely. “Except that Bobbie is…well, I’m not sure how she convinced the world she was a male pirate. Whereas you are so much more…I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I need to stop—”
“You need to rest and nothing more,” he assured her.
“But…I must ask. Are we going to survive?”
“Aye, Lady Cassandra! We will survive. I will not let Red die.”
“And neither will Logan,” she said.
“He, uh, has proven to be a very good man,” Brendan said awkwardly. He didn’t know exactly when it happened, perhaps on that island, but he couldn’t deny the fact that Logan had acquired something more than admiration for Red, despite whatever understanding he might have with Cassandra.
She looked at him curiously, tilting her head at an angle. To his surprise and consternation, she reached out and touched him. “Please do not fear to wound my feelings. Logan is…my best friend, but he is free to love wherever he chooses.”
“But…you and your father. You risked your lives.”
“I know, but…”
“But?”
“Brendan, I know I am supposed to be a lady, that I should be reserved and not speak of such things, but…two people who should be right for one another, who may even think for a while that they are right for each other, are not. So it is with Logan and me. I shall always love and admire him, but I am not in love with him.” She met his eyes and blushed. “And so I told him before he left to rescue your cousin, for I felt he had to know.”
The Pirate Bride Page 24
