Enter The Brethren (The Brethren of the Coast)

by Devlin, Barbara

  She placed her hand on his arm. “I am so sorry.”

  “Do not pity me.”

  His thoughts mirrored her own.

  “I do not.” Caroline cupped his cheek.

  So much anger.

  So much pain.

  Now she understood the gruff exterior, and why Trevor reminded her of someone very familiar. “Are we not a pair?”

  “So it would seem, sweet lady.”

  Their eyes met, held.

  And there it was, the promise of passion, igniting in a flash and burning in a steady blaze of heat and hunger in her belly. Trevor kissed her palm, and she was certain her knees would buckle at any moment. Lips parted, his tongue teased her flesh, his teeth nipped ever so gently. And through the hazy fog of lust, a reminder echoed in her brain.

  “Trevor, there is something I would tell you.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. You need to know--”

  Boarders! All hands on deck!

  Boarders off the starboard bow!

  Outside, cries of alarm from the crew resonated.

  “Bloody hell.” With a calm she found unnerving, Trevor released her, strode to his locker, and swung the door wide. He retrieved a sheathed sword and a large oak box with brass hinges, then walked to the desk and set them on the blotter. After rummaging through the top drawer, he produced a small key, which he promptly used to unlock the box. Inside, on a bed of blue velvet, rested two perfectly matched flintlock dueling pistols.

  “Do you know how to use a firearm?” he asked, as he lifted one and held it for her inspection.

  Caroline did not hesitate. “Yes.” Reaching out, hand shaking, she took what she considered an instrument of war.

  Lethal weapon in his grasp, Trevor placed a finger under her chin and brought her gaze to his. “I will send Billy to stay with you. He is too young and small to fight. Lock the door behind him and permit entry to no one but me. Do you understand?”

  She managed to nod despite her ever-increasing fear.

  In a move that did not inspire confidence, he bent his head and set his lips to hers in a bruising kiss--as if he expected never to see her again.

  And then he was gone.

  For a few seconds Caroline was dumbfounded. Above, pounding footfalls evidenced a furious clash on deck.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” Billy shuffled into the cabin, wearing a scowl that she found quite amusing. “Cap’n ordered me to wait here with you.”

  “Yes, and we will do as he commands.” She locked the door just as a hiss rent the air.

  From the locker, Billy claimed another sword. “Oh, I say, I could skewer a few bloody pirates with this.”

  “Now, just a minute, the Capt--”

  “Hell’s bells, but I’m a man not a boy.”

  “Billy, please, you must stay with me.” Caroline raised her hands, palms facing outward, when the lad pointed the unsheathed, polished steel straight at her.

  “You can sit here, if you want, but I’m going to fight.” With that, he unlocked the door, flung it wide, and charged into the hall.

  “Billy, come back.” She just stopped herself from giving chase. Quickly, she tucked the pistol in the waistband of her breeches and marched forth as a soldier heading into battle.

  For all her brother Blake had told her of combat at sea, nothing could have prepared Caroline for the scene she confronted. Crouched in the opening that led below decks, she surveyed the skirmish and was not sure what to do.

  “Oh, God, I should never have come up here.”

  The grating sound of metal striking metal reverberated as the fight reached a fevered pitch. Bursts of silver flashed in random patterns as lamplight flickered off the flat of the blades. The boarders had thick, overgrown beards disguising the lower half of their dirt-smudged faces. Scarves tied about their heads kept matted hair out of their eyes. What teeth the enemy had were yellow and rotting, and their clothes were torn and filthy.

  They were pirates.

  Just then, Billy went down, his body landing in a limp mass on the wooden planks in front of her. Caroline swallowed the urge to scream, until she met a menacing gaze, and then she choked out a strangled cry. A chill traversed her spine as the rogue licked his lips, and he signaled his intent to engage her when he raised his sword.

  “Well, well. What ‘ave we ‘ere?” The blackguard’s voice slithered like a snake over her skin.

  Since it was too late to change her tack, Caroline snatched the sword from Billy’s lifeless form and stepped forward, lunging hard. Figuring her only hope for survival to be an aggressive attack, she drew on her fencing skill, derived from years of her brother’s tutelage, and thrust in rapid succession.

  Pitting her acumen against the pirate’s brute strength proved a wise gamble. It was obvious the man had no formal training, unlike her. Where he was clumsy, she was agile. While his thrusts had power, hers had better aim. Her technique kept him off balance and more than compensated for her lack of brawn. Until she caught her adversary with a vicious riposte across the forearm, drawing blood.

  After glancing at the red stain growing around the tear of his sleeve, he looked at her and growled, “You will pay for that.”

  Faced with a sudden barrage, Caroline found herself on the defensive. The force of the villain’s strokes proved impossible to parry, because she did not have the strength to turn aside his weapon. Step by perilous step, he backed her into the railing. With a leap to the side, she changed directions, but it proved a temporary respite.

  The rapid salvo resumed.

  Caroline weaved left then right, trying to regain the upper hand. Another body hit wood, this time a pirate. Jumping, she slammed hard into another male form.

  “Devil take it, woman, have ya lost yer mind? Get out of the way!” George shoved Caroline aside and took after the scoundrel she had been fighting.

  She hugged the rail as around her the melee raged. The smell of blood and sweat tickled her nose; corpses littered the deck. How many were dead or injured she did not know.

  “You there, en garde.”

  “You must be joking,” was all she could reply.

  To her amazement, she once again found herself engaging another foe. At first glance, she thought he was a member of the Hera crew. Clean-shaven, well dressed compared to his cohorts, he was younger than most. Still, his skill far surpassed that of her previous opponent. And as before, she was forced to retreat.

  Having dispensed with his combatant, George pushed her clear and charged the boyish bounder. As a spectator, it did not take long for her to realize the first mate was being maneuvered near one of the downed crewmembers.

  Caroline tried to shout a warning, but everything happened so fast. George stumbled, tripped, and fell backwards, and his weapon rolled to the side, beyond reach. In horror, she gasped as the young pirate lorded over the first mate and, raising his sword high, prepared to thrust. At that precise moment, she recalled the pistol tucked in her waistband. Without a second thought, Caroline grabbed the wooden butt and leveled the barrel. As the blackguard lunged, she fired.

  The shot echoed, long and loud.

  All activity came to a halt, and an eerie quiet fell on the ship. The villain froze, a look of shock etched on his youthful face. The only sound heard was the clang of his sword as it hit the deck, then a thud as his body collapsed. Scanning the sundry crowd, she located Trevor on the bow, staring daggers at her.

  A sinister laugh broke the silence.

  The source was a rogue who had been dueling with her captain and was without doubt the leader of the motley crew. Unlike the others, he wore a white linen shirt, black breeches, and a beautifully shined pair of Hessians. He, too, was clean-shaven, but that did little to dispel his menacing guise. A long, jagged scar traced from his left ear and across his cheek, disappearing under a leather patch adorned with a large ruby, concealing his eye. His ebony hair hung loose around his chiseled features. Though he might have been handsome at one time, he appeared a dange
rous adversary.

  “Have we met?” the pirate inquired. “You remind me of someone.”

  “No,” Caroline responded, careful of her words. “I assure you, it is not possible.”

  “Mon Ami, you surprise me. Now you hire women in your crew?” The stranger eyed her as if she was wearing nothing more than her chemise. “I must say I approve of your taste. Throw in with me, and together we will wreak havoc on the seas.”

  Trevor snorted. “I will see you in hell first, Cavalier.”

  Caroline shivered as the rogue leader continued to stare. In a flash, he leapt beyond Trevor’s reach and prowled in her direction, parting the adversaries who kept their weapons at ready. With a countenance of confidence, he gave his attention to the prone figure at her feet.

  His smug smile faded.

  Kneeling before his fallen comrade, he brushed a lock of hair from the dead man’s forehead. When his gaze met hers, the humor was gone. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stood and brought the tip of his blade to her chin.

  “Cavalier, do not harm her.” Surrounded and outnumbered, Trevor maneuvered from behind several swords.

  “He was my brother,” Cavalier said through gritted teeth.

  Paralyzed with fright, shocked by what she had done, Caroline wrapped her arms around herself. “I did not know,” she blurted. “I am so sorry.”

  “Not yet.” Though his voice was calm, his tone was laced with sarcasm and malevolence. “But you will be.”

  “Lanterns, Mon Capitaine!”

  A sea of heads turned in unison. The orange glow of ship lamps danced like fireflies on the horizon.

  “It appears luck is on your side, Ma Puce. I am a wanted man in more countries than you could ever hope to count. Back to the ship.” Cavalier waved to his men. “We shall fight another day.”

  The pirate stopped short as the last of his band of villains disappeared over the railing. A scowl of pure evil invested his features as he sketched an elegant bow.

  “Cherie, do not fear I have forgotten you. I promise to come for you one day, when I shall avenge my brother, but your death will neither be easy nor swift as was his.” His smile made her gut clench. “You will pleasure me at length until I tire of you. Then my men shall ride you till your back breaks.”

  “I did not want to hurt him.” A shiver of terror nipped at her nerves, yet Caroline sensed there was more to his threat. “But he would have killed George.”

  “Brave lady.” Cavalier narrowed his eyes. “Ever wonder how it feels to end your life as fodder for sharks? To be alive when they make that first tear at your flesh? To suffer the pain and agony, as they rip muscles from bone, knowing there is no escape? That is the death I promise you.” With that, he raised his sword in mock salute and was gone before Trevor could reach him.

  It was then Caroline noticed the eerie silhouette. The lamps were guttered, rendering the vessel almost invisible. As a thief cloaked by a moonless night, the pirate ship stole away.

  Trevor stood at the rail of the starboard bow, and she knew he was angry from the set of his shoulders. With tentative steps, Caroline neared. “What is she called?”

  “Black Morass.”

  She waited, hoping he would say something, anything to alleviate the terror gnawing at her belly. When no such comfort was proffered, she turned and began assessing the casualties. Grabbing the closest sailor, Caroline barked orders as if she were the captain.

  “Fetch any medical supplies you can find. I need hot water, fresh not sea, and all the bandages in store. Oh, and get me something to clean the wounds, is there any salve?” Before the poor salt could answer she continued, “If we do not have salve then bring the captain’s brandy--”

  Trevor appeared at her side, and she almost screamed.

  “Not one word.” Caroline lifted a hand to forestall what she had no doubt was an impressive tirade. “Billy took your sword to join the fight. And for some reason I will never fathom, I ran after him. Right now, these men need attention so you will have to beat me later.” She paused. “Oh, and I need you to help me get the injured below decks. We can’t leave them here, and it would be easier to treat them if they were in one place.”

  With an expression of befuddlement, green eyes shooting sparks, Trevor organized his crew. But she had to know, had to ask the question foremost on her mind, so she grasped his shirtsleeve.

  “Who was that man?”

  For a pregnant moment, he held her stare. “The one you killed was Henri Cavalier.”

  “I can’t think of that now.” Caroline bit her lip and shook her head. “The other one.”

  “Jean Marc Cavalier.”

  “I have never heard of him.”

  “Not surprising. He is the most ruthless pirate on the seas.” Folding his arms, he frowned. “Cavalier slaughters crews and fires captured ships on a whim. He has been known to sell women and children as slaves on the Barbary Coast.”

  “Oh, dear.” Caroline stared at her bloody hands. “And they were brothers?”

  “They were.”

  She inhaled a shaky breath and rolled her shoulders in a failed attempt to dispel the shiver born of something more than the cool night air. “Will he come for me?”

  “Aye, or die trying.”

  #

  Perched at his station on the quarterdeck, Trevor stared at the yellow streak on the horizon heralding the new day. He had never made it to his cabin the previous night, because he preferred to remain on deck in case of another attack. Though it did not seem likely that Cavalier would return, he was not going to take any chances.

  He had also been waiting for Caroline.

  Since she had not appeared on deck, it was safe to assume she was still tending the wounded.

  “Cap’n?”

  “Aye, George.” He glanced at his first mate. “What is it?”

  “I can take over here till Mr. Todd comes on duty.” The crusty salt scratched his cheek. “The men are well at hand, why don’t ya get some rest?”

  “I believe I will take you up on your offer.” Trevor relinquished the helm. “What is the butcher’s bill?”

  “Seven dead. Three are ours, including Billy, and four bloody pirates. Eight wounded but yer lady says none serious. She’s sleepin’ in a hammock in the fo’c’sle so’s to be near the men. Don’t worry ‘bout her though, the crew are watchin’ over her.” George paused. “Cap’n, she saved my life, ya know. That bastard woulda’ killed me if she hadn’t shot him.”

  Trevor clenched his jaw. “I know.”

  “Go easy on her.” The first mate furrowed his brow. “She’s puttin’ on a brave face, but I seen her eyes. She’s hurtin’.”

  “I know that, too.” He was going to have to deal with the willful paramour, but it did not have to happen at that instant. And he was tired, bone-dead weary. “See to it she eats something when she wakes. I am turning in.”

  Trevor skipped down the companion ladder and proceeded to his quarters without delay. When he gained the comfort and quiet of his sanctuary, he collapsed on his bed fully clothed.

  It was late in the afternoon when he woke. A quick check of the cabin told Trevor that Caroline had not returned from her makeshift infirmary. He knew, without doubt, the quirky demirep would work herself to exhaustion.

  Muttering a curse, he stretched, swung his legs over the side of his bed, rose and crossed the room. At the door, he called for Billy to prepare a bath and then remembered that his cabin boy was dead, so he saw to it himself. An hour later he was back at his station, the wind drying his hair, fulfilling a duty he’d always considered a sorrowful shackle of command.

  Under a glorious blue sky, with a lilting breeze nipping at the sails, the crew stood at attention, clean-shaven, and neatly dressed for the burials. A plank was raised atop the starboard rail. Standing on either side, four men held the Union Jack high as a cloak of honor for each fallen comrade, save the pirates. Trevor recited a short prayer.

  “I hereby commit these bodies to the deep. Ashe
s to ashes, dust to dust.” He closed the Book of Common Prayer. At his instruction, a salute was offered.

  Wrapped in canvas, the remains were laid to rest. One by one, the shrouds slipped beneath the surface of the sea, disappearing into the indigo grave below.

  Trevor knew his mistress was not there to witness the solemn ceremony. Having been informed she was asleep, he ordered she not be disturbed, because he thought it best to spare her any reminder of the deaths from the attack. The sun was beginning to set when she skittered toward the passageway leading to his cabin.

  How he longed to go to her, to comfort her. But he also knew he would not stop there. No, he wanted Caroline, ached to hold her in his arms, if only to reassure himself that she was unharmed, that she was still very much alive. Despite his bloody good intentions, he was, once again, changing his tack. Hell and be damned, he would have her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rinsing the last soap from her skin, Caroline sighed and sank deeper beneath the water. It felt so good to wash away the dried blood and grime she had picked up from her makeshift infirmary. Resting her head against the back of the tub, she closed her eyes and wiggled her toes. Instantly, images of mayhem and carnage flashed. Once again, the tears burst forth.

  She had killed a man.

  With legs bent, she pressed her forehead to her knees and succumbed to her despair, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Caroline.”

  Through the misery, her name came to her on a whisper, and she peered up to discover Trevor, standing in the cabin. She should have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. She should have made some attempt to cover herself, but she didn’t. Instead, without hesitation, she stood, stark naked and soaking wet, jumped from the bath, and ran straight into her captain’s outstretched arms.

  Desire danced as fire in the tumultuous depths of his emerald eyes, and she met his soul-searing kiss with a hunger to match his own, tearing his shirt aside to press her palms to his heated flesh. Incapable of rational thought, her responses were innate, as virgin fervor navigated her through erotic seas. She clutched his shoulders, and then speared her fingers through his thick hair. It was as though her body had a will of its own, as if her life, her very existence were at stake.