by Ava Bradley
"A bargain with me? The devil's half-brother?" He chuckled at his own remark, but it dimmed quickly when she didn't laugh with him. "I take it you now believe what I've been trying to tell you all this time."
She shook her head. "Mr. De la Croix, it would hardly be fair to condemn my own father without giving him the chance to explain, would it?"
The gleam in his eyes faded as the lines around them hardened. "His own words in writing are not enough to convince you?"
"He wrote of a guilty heart, not a guilty hand." She paused and stepped an arm's length away at the railing as Mrs. Ling passed them on her way to her small chicken coop.
"I am prepared to assist you in this ludicrous quest," she continued softly, "if you and I can come to an arrangement."
"Help me?" He burst out with a mocking laugh. "It seems I have already garnered all the help I need."
Adriana ground her teeth as she swallowed down her anger. Remember your plan to be polite, she thought. You'll not catch this fly with vinegar. "Mr. De la Croix, let me assure you, I can make this journey most difficult. Perhaps even impossible."
"Please, heiress, no more bickering." He grumbled a long sigh. "This bargain you propose. Let me hear it."
A flood of jubilation rippled through her like a flock of tiny birds taking flight. He recognized her competency. He knew she was someone who could assist, or destroy, his quest. How strange, but it felt good to be recognized as capable.
"My father obviously feels some blame, whether he is solely responsible for your father's fate, or not."
The anger returned to Christian's eyes and he opened his mouth to speak.
"However," Adriana said quickly, "that is not the principal matter at hand. It seems to me what is most important to you is rescuing your father. I will help you in whatever way I can, if you agree not to set about harming my father when we have finished."
Christian turned his gaze out over the water. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"You wish to rescue your father. I wish to protect mine. A bargain seems a most equitable way for us each to achieve our goals. I have named my price."
She waited as rigid silence hung in the air. Christian leaned both hands against the rail. The wind picked up his hair and blew it gently away from his face, revealing the indecision traveling through his sea-green eyes.
"I should think my terms are most agreeable for you. After all, I ask that you merely abstain from your violence. You ask that I commit a serious crime against a foreign government, with considerable risk to my person and my family name."
He faced her with accusation darkening his eyes. "I never intended violence against your father. I wish only that he pay what he owes."
For a moment she thought he would refuse. He glanced away as he considered it. When his eyes found hers again, they were gentler. "Agreed."
He extended his hand. Soothing relief washed over Adriana. She accepted the gesture and they shook. His grip was secure and strong. It seemed he stood straighter, as if he had just passed a milestone that had been grueling for him to overcome. A tiny smile pulled at her lips.
He appeared a better man in her eyes for his ability to compromise. Adriana knew most men possessed too much pride and not enough courage, especially when they had existed for so many years fueled by such passionate anger.
His touch made her entire body react as though every nerve was connected to the palm of her hand. Through his she could feel the resilience of his corded arms, the tightness of his hard muscles and the ruggedness of his proud stance. He kept a firm hold on her hand but his grip became gentler. Adriana stopped shaking, but didn't pull away.
She searched his eyes for a hint of his true emotion as he stared back at her. She had begun to admire him as well as desire him, but she was inexperienced around men. Surely merely touching her hand could not affect him in the same way it did her. He was seasoned in the company of women, a genuine rascal.
"Your father would be proud, heiress. You bargain as well as any man."
"From you, I consider that a grave compliment."
The squawk of an irritated rooster called their attention, but his grip lingered.
His gaze moved over her shoulder. "Mrs. Ling, you are sure to lose your chickens to the sea."
Christian released her hand and stepped past, leaving Adriana alone in a spinning cloud of confusion. Her palm tingled where she still felt the strong grip of his fingers.
It was wrong for her to negotiate with him in such a way, even to be near him when his presence had such a profound effect on her heart.
But Adriana couldn't resist. She had agreed to surrender her future for the good of her father's empire and marry a man she despised, forever forfeiting her freedom. She was owed this brief time in the company of an attractive man, and she intended to reap it.
She stayed where she was and watched Christian help Mrs. Ling feed the chickens. The hungry birds flocked to the small trough and flapped excitedly, waiting for her to pour out a helping of grain from her pitcher.
While they were feeding, Mrs. Ling selected each one and snipped away feathers from the tips of their wings. One of the birds protested with a loud clucking and a flapping of its wings. She lost her hold on it, and the bird disappeared over the railing. Mrs. Ling quickly grabbed a netted pole Henri had fashioned for just this situation and reached overboard with it.
Christian moved to her side and helped scoop the squawking bird out of the water.
"Mon Dieu, they do become heavy when soaked with water, don't they?"
"This one want to keep feathers," Mrs. Ling said, laughing.
"Why don't they just jump through the gaps in the railing?"
"Chicken not want to fly overboard. Only happen by accident. One time, get eaten by shack."
"I don't understand."
Adriana laughed at his puzzled expression. Goodness, but he was endearing. Her stomach tightened with a peculiar grip of envy. If they had met under different circumstances, she would find him unbearably handsome. In his ordinary life, when he wasn't furious with revenge, Christian was probably irresistible.
"Shark," she called from the front of the ship. "Do you know what that is, Mr. De la Croix?"
"Ah, oui. I've heard it is an enormous beast capable of swallowing a man whole."
Hidden in the crow's nest above, Ollie laughed.
"On the contrary, there are many species of whale that can swallow a man whole." Adriana matched the smile he wore as she strolled down the deck. "The unfortunate business of a shark is that he chews quite ferociously before finishing off his meal."
"It sounds most unpleasant." Christian glanced over the edge. "With risks such as those, whatever would make you want to swim in the ocean?"
"Why, the sea is wonderful. Like any place, it possesses its dangers and its wonders. In these warm, shallow waters, there is a vast world abundant with the most incredible fish you could ever imagine."
His brow wrinkled in disbelief. Adriana sought the words to ask him why he was afraid to swim, but as Henri neared, thought better of it.
"Miss Montague, if you'll pull up the mizzen royal, we'll be ready to get underway."
"I'll get it," Christian volunteered.
Adriana watched him select the correct line and release the slack to the pulley, letting the sail open. "Mr. De la Croix, you've studied well. Perhaps the mizzen topgallant can use a turn."
He went to the pulley attached to the mizzen topgallant and tightened its winch one rotation. "Satisfactory?"
She nodded. In his efforts to learn the ship's diagram, he displayed a decorum of respect for Lady Luck that made her feel fuzzy with pride, as if she'd swallowed a spoonful of warm honey.
"Perhaps you'd like to take the helm today?"
"Under your supervision, I would be honored."
"What the bloody hell are you two up to?" Henri planted his hands on his hips. "You're making me nervous."
"Why Mr. Dupree, I thought you wanted us to be pleasant?"
/>
"Oui, Henri. It does not please you that we can be civil? I must admit, Miss Montague is such a lovely creature when she's not hissing at me."
"And Mr. De la Croix is so much more agreeable when he isn't acting like a chauvinistic cave dweller."
Henri's eyebrows crawled up his forehead as he glanced from one to the other.
Adriana laughed. "Ah Mr. Dupree, I cannot fool you. Truth be told, I am simply laying the opportunity for Mr. De la Croix to make a mistake," she said with a deliberate hint of mischief.
Christian chuckled, leaping at the challenge. "Oui, and I'm only being pleasant so that I can blame our next argument on her."
"That's better." Henri turned back to his duties.
Christian's brows knit together. "What do you mean, providing the opportunity to make a mistake? You still don't believe I can learn how to sail this ship?"
She frowned back at him. "What do you mean, you're only being pleasant so you can blame our arguments on me? You've started each and every one."
He bit down on a scowl and Adriana couldn't help but giggle. Christian laughed too, and her heart sped up. Heavens, he was a handsome devil when he smiled.
"So you think you've learned the ship, do you? Which is the main royal?"
He pointed it out.
"And the jib stay?"
Christian strode across the deck and laid his hand upon the correct line.
"Hmm. Those are easy, with Henri shouting them out all day." She turned and looked for something harder. "The proper name for this?"
"It is the fife rail. The fore fife rail if you are seeking specifics."
"My, you have been studying." She strolled away, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "I would expect no less from the man who claims Lady Luck as his own. Perhaps you will not be left helplessly adrift when you set us ashore, as I'd believed you would be."
Christian sauntered after her wearing a sly grin. "Perhaps I no longer intend to let you ashore."
"But Mr. De la Croix," Adriana crooned innocently, "you no longer need me. I am quite confident you can manage the rigging by yourself. If you studied the log book as thoroughly as I suspect you have, you know Lady Luck was specifically designed to be handled by as few as three men in light seas."
He leaned close and his voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "Or two men and one very capable little vixen."
Adriana's cheeks flooded with heat. She longed for a cool, tropical breeze to help wash it away. None came.
She retreated a step. "The true test is revealed by he who can climb aloft the fastest."
He glanced up. "You mean up there? You must be mad."
"Will that be your excuse if I win?" Adriana leapt onto the ropes and started climbing. "You forget, I was not always schooled as a proper lady. I possessed a certain fortitude as a child that most boys envied!"
Almost at once she tripped on her skirts. This had been much easier when she was nine, wearing short dresses with pantaloons and laced boots.
"And you forget, heiress, I also possessed certain fortitude as a child necessary for my very survival!" Christian leapt onto the rigging behind her.
She glanced down to see him wobble as he tested the slack of the ropes, then instantly achieved his confidence. He climbed solidly and passed her easily.
Ollie peered over the edge of his hideout. "Christian's winning! Yay, Christian!"
"I learned a certain skill necessary to keep me from the clutches of the gendarmes, even as a child!"
"Perhaps," Adriana called, "but do not look down."
Christian did. He froze as though surprised by the view, then quickly climbed past her again. "And what will you call it when I win, heiress?"
Below on deck, Henri stalked over and stared up at them with a disapproving grimace. "You two are going to get stuck and Ollie is going to have to bring you both down! Miss Montague, if Mrs. Bailey were to see you–"
"Merciful God!" Mrs. Bailey stopped halfway through the hatch and brought one hand to her mouth. "Adriana, what in heaven's name are you doing? Come down here this instant!"
Adriana stopped midway and peered across the sea. A plume of white smoke drifted into the sky. A moment later, a vessel emerged from a hidden lagoon at one of the tiny cays.
Above her, Christian also stopped. "We didn't see a boat in there as we passed."
"Mr. Dupree," Adriana called. "Steamer on the port side!"
"I see her." Henri picked up the looking glass.
"Mr. De la Croix, I advise you to retreat quickly." She glanced up. "Ollie, come down please!"
Christian proved he could climb down just as well as up. Once beside her he slowed and placed an arm around her back to protect her as she continued down. "Are they bootleggers?"
Before she could answer, cannon fire exploded. The mortar splashed down fifty feet off the port side.
"Worse–pirates."
Mrs. Bailey screamed. She wobbled across the deck and reached up to gather Adriana off the ropes. "Good heavens! Good gracious!"
Mr. Ling poked his head through the hatch and issued a fast oath in Chinese.
Ollie beat them to the deck by sliding down a rope. "Uncle Henri?" His lower lip quivered. "I'm scared."
Christian jumped the remainder of the way down. "What do we do?"
"Get all sails up!" Adriana looked at Henri. "Can we outrun them?"
The old captain's eyes were wild with fear. "Only if this wind keeps with us."
They all looked skyward. As if mocking them, the breeze quit and the sails relaxed.
Chapter Eleven
He hadn't come this far to be seized by a modern-day pirate with a steam-driven engine. Christian turned and ran to the bow hatch.
"Where are you going?" Adriana's footsteps sounded after him. Her chaperone called after her, but Adriana didn't stop. "See to Ollie, he's frightened," she yelled, following Christian to the hatch.
He took every other rung on the ladder and jumped the last four into the dark hold. "Get the lamp."
Adriana regarded him skeptically. She stood in a beam of sunlight seeping through the hatch, illuminated like some divine being.
"Now!" he shouted. If he didn't do something fast... He didn't want to think what might happen to her.
He slipped around piled stores and fumbled in the darkness at the portal before the foremost of the four cannons. Blast the workers who'd loaded her stores so clumsily!
A glow lit the dark hold as Adriana returned with the lamp. "Heiress, so help me, if your father doesn't keep mortars to go with these cannons–"
"Here." She hung the lantern and grabbed the corners of a grain sack. "But they haven't been fired in years."
He took the other side and helped her move the sack aside. Underneath three more like it, he saw the corner of a small bin. They would never get all these sacks off in time!
"In fact, I do not recall ever having seen them discharged," she finished.
"They had better work," he said, grasping the next sack. "Hurry–help me clear these away."
She took the corner of the next sac and together they pulled off the remaining bags. The boom of cannon fire exploded a second, then a third time. The last one landed close, he heard the splash dangerously near Lady Luck.
"I do not even know how to load them!"
"I do. Get that shutter open," he instructed as he flipped up the bin's lid. Eight twelve-pound iron shot sat in their cups amidst a disgusting mess of spider webs and rat droppings. There were six kegs of gunpowder inside. Christian's heart sank as he found one after another caked solid, ruined by moisture and time.
No, no, no! he chanted silently. This couldn't be!
He pried open the last keg to find the powder crystallized and shiny, its odor still powerfully sharp. His heart surged with joy. It was a miracle, or perhaps a smidgeon of the Montague luck had rubbed off on him. Or had it? He looked around, but there was no burlap or flannel to make a powder packet.
On the other side of the hold, Adriana rapped a
block of wood on the lock pin fastening the shutter. Sunlight flooded the compartment as she wrenched it open.
Christian pulled his shirt off and tossed it at her. Adriana gaped at him as if he'd just suggested they forget the pirates and get intimate instead. Her eyes flicked over his bare chest.
"Tear the sleeves off. Tie a knot in one end and fill each with half the gunpowder. Leave a large handful for the flintlock."
She nodded and did as she was told.
Christian went to the gun at the open port and lifted the breech lines from their ringbolts, then kicked the wooden stoppers clear.
The gun must weigh a ton. He couldn't get it to move. "Help me," he shouted to Adriana. She dropped her makeshift powder packet and ran to help him. With both leaning their weight into it, the gun slowly rolled back.
Adriana picked up the sleeve and held it up. "What do I do now?"
"Tie a knot in the other end. Make sure the powder is packed tightly." He looked around. "Where is the rammer?"
"The what?"
"It's a long pole with a woolen pad on the end."
She pointed to the corner of the hold and he saw it, an old wooden rammer on a hook behind a stack of burlap sacks piled atop a wooden crate. He vaulted over and yanked it off its hook.
"Tie the other sleeve into tight knots. Hurry, we haven't much time."
Christian took the powder packet and slotted it into the barrel, then rammed it to the end. He went to the crate and hefted a ball from its cup. He rolled it into the barrel and looked up to find Adriana at his side.
"Like this?" She handed him the knotted sleeve.
"Perfect," he said, though truly he wasn't quite sure. Would any of this work–his improvised powder packet, her quickly fashioned wad? It had to. If it didn't, they were done for.
"Bring the can." Christian pushed the knotted sleeve into the barrel and rammed it down against the ball. He met Adriana's horrified gaze. The beam of sunlight straying through illuminated the gleam of fear in her eyes. He struggled for something reassuring to say.
"Help me push it back."
Christian suddenly realized how truly dire the situation was. If this didn't work, not only would his journey be in vain, Adriana's fate would surely be sealed. He'd spent his life in the company of vile criminals like the ones surely driving that steamer their way; those types were rarely kind to the women they captured.
