He snorted a scoffing laugh.
“Aunt Heather? I’m scared.” Jamie clutched the back of her skirt.
“Ach, boy.” The pirate glared at him. “Reed men aren’t frightened of anything. Quit hiding behind those petticoats and prove you have a backbone.”
Heather shoved the pirate, and he took a step back, grabbing her arm with one hand. “Jamie, quick, run to your father.”
“Stand fast, boy!” A chink of steel on steel filled the room as Marcus Reed drew his sword.
“Nay! Jamie, run!”
Heather saw the man’s fist only a second before it smashed into her head. She plunged into a realm of pain and darkness.
sixteen
Lucas charged into Heather’s bedchamber, his heart nearly breaking in two when he found it empty. Pushing through the door into Jamie’s connecting room, his frantic gaze took in the empty chamber. Lucas hurried to the piazza, searching in all directions. His hands raked through his hair, pulling it loose from its tie. He staggered back into the room and collapsed onto the bed.
“No! Please, God. No.”
He couldn’t lose Heather.
He couldn’t lose his son.
“God, help me.”
A moan sounded behind the open door to the piazza, and he bolted up, wishing he had a sword. His eyes landed on a pair of shapely ankles and Heather’s gown. Relief washed over him like the warm sun after a turbulent storm. He knelt down beside her.
“Are you hurt, my love?”
Heather moaned and reached for her head. A stream of blood flowed from a swollen cut on her forehead and ran down her cheek. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she lurched to her feet and staggered through the room. She grabbed his arm, her distressed gaze searched his. “Jamie. Please tell me he didn’t take Jamie.”
A deep chasm opened up in Lucas’s chest where his heart had been. He didn’t have to reach the house to know that Jamie wasn’t there. Nothing could hurt him more than loving his son—and Marcus knew that.
“Oh, Jamie.” Heather’s sobs filled the room. Lucas drew her against his chest and closed his eyes. “You’ve got to go after him.”
He thought of his oath to God never to sail again. How could he break such a devout promise to his heavenly Father?
Yet he could not allow his brother to get away with Jamie. The poor boy must be frightened out of his wits. Like a pendulum, Lucas’s thoughts swung from one point to another and back. He had to go after Jamie. He couldn’t break his word. He had to save his son.
Heather released him and stepped back, staring at him with an incredulous gaze. “Lucas, you’ve got to go—before they reach open seas. Each moment you waste in indecision allows them to get farther away. You’ve got to rescue Jamie.”
“I can’t. Don’t you understand? I did things almost as vile as my brother, all in the name of my country. I promised God I’d never sail again.”
Heather stared at him as if he’d turned green and lost all of his hair. “God would never hold you to such an oath. ‘Tis all your own doing.” She grabbed his arms and shook him, her brown eyes wide. “You’ve got to save your son.”
A war raged within him. “If I fail to keep my promise to God, what kind of man would I be?”
Richard burst into the room holding Lucas’s sword in the air like an avenging angel. When he saw Heather, his relief was evident.
She rushed to his side. “Please, sir, take me to the docks. We’ve got to rescue Jamie.”
Richard’s confused gaze dashed to Lucas and back. “Marcus has the boy?”
“Aye, and Lucas refuses to go after him because of his precious oath.” She spat the words as if spewing a foul substance from her mouth.
“What does she mean?” Richard asked.
Lucas gazed up at the ceiling where the light from the wall sconces danced like sails in the wind. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling ripped apart by his indecision. He’d changed from the carousing youth he’d been and given his heart to God, but now when he needed Him most, he felt betrayed. “God, how could you have let this happen again?”
“‘Twas not the hand of God that did this vile deed, but the evil of man,” Richard said. “Don’t be doubting your faith, Lucas, for you’ll need it more than ever if you hope to track down your brother.”
“But what about my pledge? I gave up sailing as penance because of all that I did before and during the Revolution.”
Richard shook his head. “Lucas, you’re my best friend, but that’s just plain fanatical. God has forgiven you, and you don’t need to punish yourself that way. God doesn’t ask it of you. But He does expect a father to protect his children, and you’ve got a son who needs you. You’re the only one who can save him. Just think how Marcus will warp his mind if you do nothing.”
Lucas listened to his friend’s earnest words and saw hope burn away the anger in Heather’s eyes. He walked outside to the piazza railing and stared up at the ebony sky. Was it true? Had he needlessly punished himself all these years?
When he couldn’t find Deborah, he’d given up on sailing. Perhaps he’d made that oath because he’d so miserably failed. His ship hadn’t carried him to his beloved, so had he just walked away from it all and used God as a convenient excuse?
He heaved a heavy sigh. God was love. Forgiveness. He wouldn’t take away something Lucas loved as punishment. If Lucas believed that, he was equating God with Marcus. And there was nothing in the least about God that was similar to his brother. He tightened his grip on the railing as he thought of Jamie. How dreadfully frightened the boy must be. He would expect his father to rescue him.
Hope rose in Lucas’s heart like a ship on a swell. He pounded his hand against the wooden rail, knowing what he had to do. Straightening his body and his resolve, he spun around and marched into the room, taking his sword from Richard. He clapped his friend’s shoulder. “Thank you for setting me straight. You’re a good man.”
“So, you’re going after them?” his friend asked.
“Yes.”
Heather sucked in a gasp, rushed forward, and fell against his chest. “Oh, praise be to God. Thank you, Lucas.”
Heedless of Richard’s presence, he held her tight with one arm, keeping the sword well away from her. He kissed her hard, showing her the depth of his love. When he pulled back, a grin tugged at his lips at her shocked expression. “Pray for me, beloved. Pray that I find them fast and return with our son.”
“Aye, pray I will, but you’re not going without me.”
Heather held tight to the gunwale as Lucas’s ship glided across the open seas. The scent of salt tickled her nose, and the brisk wind pulled her hair loose from its bindings. High above her, sails snapped.
Once they’d set sail, Heather’s heart sunk like a ship torn asunder at the magnitude of the task before them. How did one find a single vessel on such a vast sea, especially in the dark of night? Why, they could sail right past another ship and not even know it. She shivered as the cool breeze tugged at her clothing, damp from the sea spray.
“You should try to get some sleep.” Lucas joined her at the railing.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m too worried about Jamie.
I keep wondering if he’s scared. Has he been mistreated? Is he locked away below ship in a dark hole?”
She turned to face Lucas, her heart aching with such a fathomless pain that she didn’t know if she could survive it. “What if he hurts Jamie?”
Lucas brushed tendrils of loose hair from her face. “I don’t think he will. He’ll gain nothing by doing that.”
“What did he hope to gain by taking him?”
Lucas stared out at the black sea. “At first, I thought he’d taken you.”
“‘Tis my fault he took Jamie.” Heather fidgeted with the edge of her cuff.
He took hold of her shoulders. “No. It is not.”
Heather nodded, tears making her eyes gleam in the moonlight. “Aye, but it is. I told Jamie to run and get you while I tr
ied to keep your brother away from him. Perhaps if I hadn’t done that, he would have taken me instead of Jamie.”
“Shh, enough of that.”
Lucas pulled her into his arms and pressed her head against his chest. Her chill fled at the warmth of his body.
“My brother is a brigand. A scoundrel. He takes pleasure in hurting me, but I don’t think he’d do damage to a child.”
“But how will we ever find them?”
“Things are not as bad as they seem. There are only a handful of places a rogue like my brother can make port without the authorities coming for him.”
Heather leaned back and gazed up at him. “But what about you? After fighting the British like you did, surely you must also be a wanted man.”
He didn’t answer for a while. “There’s truth in what you say.”
“If you are captured on the open seas, you’ll be taken back to England. I’ve put you in danger by insisting you go after Jamie.”
He ran his finger across her cheek, sending delicious chills down her spine. “I would have gone after him anyway. I was foolish to hesitate and think I was breaking my vow. I know more than most how big God’s arms are and how much He forgives.”
Even with God’s help, Heather didn’t see how it was possible to lose a child and ever get over it. She felt as if she’d die if they didn’t find Jamie. Tears stung her eyes, and a sob slipped out as she fell back into Lucas’s arm. “He’s so little. So alone.”
Lucas laid his cheek atop her head. “He’s not alone. God is with him.”
Her tears overcame her, and she wept against Lucas’s chest. What if they never found him?
They stood together, Lucas with his feet braced apart to stand steady on the rising and dipping ship, and she in the shelter of his arms. She recalled how he’d called her beloved back at the Charleston house. Was that just a slip of the tongue during an emotional time?
After a while, he loosened his hold on her a fraction. “Heather, there’s something I want to tell you.”
She leaned back against the side of the ship and gazed up at him. She could barely make out one side of his face where the moon illuminated it, while the other side remained dark. Just like the two brothers. Twins, carried together in the womb, born on the same day, but one was kindhearted and honest, while the other was a blackguard with no heart at all.
Lucas heaved a deep breath and took hold of her hand. “It’s hard to believe how much things can change in a few short weeks. A month ago, I didn’t know you or Jamie. Then you both sailed into my lonely life and made my world whole again.” He cupped his hand around her cheek. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever.”
Heather’s heart flip-flopped, but she was afraid to hope that he cared for her as much as she did him.
“I love you, Heather. Can you find it in your heart to marry a brigand like me and put me out of my misery?”
Her cheeks lifted in a smile, and joy flooded her like a rogue wave in a squall. “Aye. I’d love nothing more.”
He pulled her to him and lifted her up at the same time, and his lips collided with hers. His were warm, demanding but gentle, and all her fears and worries fled. After a few moments, he set her down but held her close. “I love you so much. I never expected to find love again.”
That thought sobered her, stealing her delight. Who had he loved? Surely not Miss Dupont? He’d told Heather that he had no feelings for the woman. And if he had loved before, why had he never married?
Lucas pressed his hand against her head and held her close. “You should rest. It’s a good thing you’ve agreed to marry me, because your reputation will have flown south after you set sail alone with just my crew and me.”
He said the words in jest, but she couldn’t help thinking of her cousin. Had Lucas promised her the world then taken her virginity and left her alone to raise their son?
Heather shook her head. Lucas may have been reckless in his youth, but he wasn’t like that now. Where were all these doubts coming from? “I am tired. All the excitement of the party and the tragedy afterward has worn me out.”
“Then I shall escort you to my cabin so you can retire.” He took her arm and tugged gently, but she didn’t release the railing.
“Why am I going to your cabin and not one of my own?”
Lucas waved his hand in the air. “This is a cargo vessel, not a passenger ship. My cabin is the only one suitable for a lady. There’s a lock on the door you’re free to use.”
The recent joy of the night fled at the slight bite in his voice. Had she offended him?
“Come. You’re safe here. There’s nothing to fear from me or my crew.”
She allowed him to lead her toward his cabin, hating her doubts. Just when she thought her life was about to change, she couldn’t rid her mind of all that Deborah had suffered at the hands of the man they’d both fallen in love with.
I’m sorry, cousin, for loving the man who caused you so much pain. Am I making a dreadful mistake? Has he truly changed, or am I living an illusion?
seventeen
Hands behind his back, Lucas paced the deck of the Victory. A week had passed, and he still hadn’t located his brother. Think! Where could Marcus have gone?
He knew his brother, and Marcus would want him to give chase. It was all a game to him. Take what Lucas loved, because that was the only way to truly hurt him. First, it had been the woman he’d planned on marrying, and now, Jamie.
Could Marcus have guessed that Jamie was his own son? Did he know that Deborah had borne him a child?
Lucas strode to the bow and stared out over the glistening blue sea as the schooner glided swiftly across the waters. The scents of salt, pitch, and oakum filled his nostrils, and he breathed deeply. Oh, how he’d missed sailing. What a fool he’d been to believe that God would expect him to forsake something he loved so much. Lifting his face, he stared up at the brilliant sky. “Forgive me, Lord, for believing a lie. Perhaps I was merely punishing myself, when You’d already freely given Your Son to die for me. Please, Lord, grant me favor. Show me where Jamie is.”
His clothing fluttered in the stiff breeze, and behind him, sailors lifted their voices in a jolly time, but jolly was not a word that described his mood. With all but the topsails unfurled, they traveled at a quick speed. Yet they still hadn’t caught up with Marcus. He pounded on the gunwale. “Where are you, brother?”
Thoughts of Jamie assaulted his mind, causing him to rest little at night. He ached to protect the boy. To hold him in his arms again. To laugh at something Jamie said. In a matter of days, he’d lost his heart to his nephew. His son.
And also to a pretty, brown-eyed wench who wore her heart on her sleeve. He’d asked her to marry him, yet he saw the doubts in her eyes. What put them there? Had he ever given her reason to question his sincerity? To fear him?
His grip tightened on the gunwale. Maybe he should tell her the whole truth even though Deborah had pleaded with him in her letter not to let anyone know that Jamie wasn’t his son. But shouldn’t Heather know?
He was surprised that Deborah had never told her cousin the truth about Jamie’s father. Yet she’d done it to protect her son. The child of a pirate would have little chance to live a normal life. A decent life.
And what if Marcus ever learned he’d fathered a son? He would have done exactly what he did: He would have come and taken Jamie.
Lucas had to believe that the boy’s kidnapping was a sudden impulse. How could Marcus possibly have learned about Jamie?
Lucas suddenly remembered the trollop in Charleston who’d thought he was Marcus. She’d seen him with Jamie and had commented about the boy. Had the woman relayed the encounter to Marcus, even after Lucas had paid for her silence?
Without a doubt, that was more than likely.
But the biggest question of all remained unanswered: Where was Marcus?
Lucas searched his mind again, thinking of all the places he’d traveled with his father as an older youth. They’d sailed the
Caribbean, searching for ports where they could purchase tropical fruit and other goods to import to the colonies. It was during those days that his love for sailing blossomed.
Marcus had joined them only on two occasions. Their father had succumbed to Marcus’s pleas to take him and Lucas on their journeys. His father hadn’t wanted Marcus along, partly because he caused trouble but also because he wouldn’t inherit any of the Reed holdings and hadn’t needed to learn the shipping business as Lucas had.
He thought about the time when they visited Virgin Gorda, one of the larger of the Virgin Islands. Gigantic boulders littered the shores in an area known as the Baths. He and his brother had climbed the enormous stones said to be remnants of a volcanic eruption. Lucas smiled at the memory of chasing Marcus and hiding among the boulders. It was one of the fondest memories he had of his childhood.
Lucas rubbed his arm—the one he’d broken on that trip. He’d climbed upon the largest boulders, yelling that he was the king of the island. Marcus had taken that as a challenge, shinnied up the same boulder, and promptly shoved Lucas off. The next thing he remembered was being back on board his father’s ship with a head injury and a broken arm. That trip was the last one their father allowed Marcus to go on.
A sudden gust of wind yanked Lucas from his memory. His gaze roved up the mast, to the sails, and back to the deck. Men faithfully tended their duties, needing little assistance from him.
His thoughts drifted back to Virgin Gorda. Marcus had boasted that he’d return to the island again, and Lucas felt certain he had. Maybe one day he could take Jamie to see the large stones. But first he had to find him.
A flame of a thought burned into his mind, flickered, and then exploded as if someone had set fire to a barrel of gunpowder. Of course. Virgin Gorda. That’s where Marcus had gone.
He spun around. “Helmsman! Change course. Southeast by forty degrees.”
Mutiny of the Heart Page 13
