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Rogue Pirates Bride

Page 28

by Shana Galen


  the nearest ladderway, stumbled her way to the poop

  deck. Mr. Khan was there, and without a word, he

  handed her the lead.

  She put it to her eye, scanned the horizon, and her

  breath hitched in her throat. With shaking hands, she

  lowered the spyglass. Bastien took it from her. She

  hadn’t even heard him come up behind her.

  He didn’t say a word, but she knew he recognized

  the vessel as the Regal. It was still miles away and

  would take a day, possibly more, to catch them. The

  Shadow was fast and sleek, and the wind was in their

  favor. But that would not matter. It might take weeks,

  it might take years, but her father was nothing if not

  dogged. Now he had found them, he would pursue

  them to the ends of the earth or the ends of time—

  whichever came first.

  Bastien was looking at her, the question in his eyes

  clear. What did she want him to do?

  She bit her lip, knew they could continue running.

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  They could run for months or years. But eventually

  her father would catch them. Eventually Bastien

  would tire of running, turn and fight, and she might

  be holding his hand in the infirmary when he took his

  last breath.

  She looked at Mr. Khan, at Ridley, at the other

  men. She did not want to be responsible for their

  deaths. She did not want to see them in Mr. Leveque’s

  infirmary, their blood staining the sand on the floor.

  She looked at Bastien, and she wanted to wrap her

  arms around him, close her eyes, and pretend the Regal

  was still some distant problem they might encounter.

  But even as she met his gaze, their plans for a wedding

  in Brest, the search for his family, their life together

  began to sink to the bottom of the ocean floor.

  His cobalt eyes were steady, the question burning

  in them.

  “Signal them,” she said, coldly, decisively. “When

  he’s close enough, I’ll make sure he sees me. He won’t

  fire if he sees me.”

  Bastien held up a hand, and the men stepped back.

  He took Raeven’s arm, steered her to the taffrail. “We

  can run. I’ve outrun a man-of-war before. I have the

  wind, so with a little luck…”

  She shook her head. “And how long will you run?

  Weeks? Months? Years? He won’t stop, Bastien. He’ll

  keep coming after you—after us. Think of your men.

  How long will they tolerate running from a man-of-

  war when they could hand me over and resume more

  profitable ventures? Give it one week, maybe two, and

  you’re looking at a mutiny.”

  He looked away, but she knew he agreed with her.

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  She wished she wasn’t right this time. She wished they

  might have made it to Brest.

  “When my father catches us, I won’t go aboard

  without conditions. For my safe passage, I’ll make him

  promise to let you and your ship go.”

  Bastien gave a bark of laughter. “And do you think

  once you’re aboard he’ll keep his word?”

  “Yes. He’s a man of his word. If he makes a promise,

  he’ll do it. He may not like it, and he may come after

  you another time, but…” She looked down. “I’ll try

  to dissuade him. I’ll protect you.”

  Bastien’s finger notched her chin up, and she

  looked into his eyes. He was smiling. “I can take care

  of myself. You, on the other hand…” He shook his

  head. “I don’t want to let you go.”

  Her breath caught in her lungs. For a long moment,

  she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do

  anything but stand on the deck of the ship with him.

  The pain in her chest intensified until she had to

  all but close her eyes against it. She wished with all

  of her being, with everything she was, she had more

  time with Bastien. Another day, another week. She

  would take another moment if that was all she’d been

  given. She wanted to curse her father for finding them

  so quickly, but she knew he searched only out of love.

  She was in love, too, and the temptation to flee her

  father was strong. But the little time she and Bastien

  would gain together was not worth the consequences.

  She thought of Percy, and she knew for once she

  couldn’t be selfish.

  “Maybe we’ll meet again.” Her voice sounded

  weak, breathy.

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  He nodded, but she could see he wasn’t convinced.

  “This is what you want?” He gestured to the Regal,

  just a distant speck on the horizon at the moment but

  growing larger.

  “Signal them,” she said.

  He turned away from her, all formality and business

  now. “Mr. Khan, set a course to intercept the HMS

  Regal. Jack”—he gestured to one of the deckhands—

  “run up the colors. Mr. Ridley, when we’re close

  enough, hoist the signal for parley. Miss Russell will

  make herself visible on deck. Hands to your stations

  and beat to quarters. I want you ready for battle.” He

  glanced at Raeven. “I’ve dealt with the British Navy

  before. I’m sure your father’s a man of his word, but I

  don’t want to take chances.”

  Raeven knew it would be several hours yet before

  the Regal reached them. She spent the time in Bastien’s

  cabin, mostly pacing but also rehearsing the words she

  would say to her father. She had to ensure he would

  allow the Shadow to go on her way, and she was not

  at all certain she could do so.

  Half a dozen times, she heard a sound and turned

  to the door, expecting to see Bastien saunter in. She

  wanted him to come, wanted him to take her in his

  arms one last time, kiss her and touch her until she

  was too dizzy to think of anything but the feel of him

  pressed against her.

  But he didn’t come, and as the hours ticked by, she

  knew he would not.

  Finally, she went on deck. She still wore Bastien’s

  breeches and shirt, but she’d left her hair down, made

  sure it would whip in the wind. She stood on the

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  bow, watching as the Regal drew closer. Her father

  approached cautiously, even after she saw Mr. Ridley

  himself hoist the signal for parley.

  She stood tall, holding her head up as the Regal

  drew nearer. She could not see her father or make

  out anyone on the decks, but she knew their

  spyglasses were trained on the Shadow. She knew

  they could see her.

  “Now’s the time we all hold our breath,” Bastien

  said beside her.

  She glanced at him, trying to memorize his features.

  A
t some point, he’d found time to change clothing.

  He knew how to dress the part of the pirate. He wore

  shiny black boots up to his knees, tight black breeches,

  a cutlass at his waist, a pistol tucked in his waistband,

  and a stark white shirt dripping with lace and open at

  the throat. His long black hair had been pulled back

  in a simple queue, and the style accented his strong

  cheekbones, straight, proud nose, generous mouth,

  and the impossible blue of his eyes. Hard eyes now,

  all business as he watched the Regal’ s approach. “Close

  with him amidships,” he ordered. “Gunners be ready.”

  “He’s not going to fire with me standing in plain

  view,” she said and hoped she was right.

  Of course she was right, but she held her breath,

  seeing the Regal’s gun ports were open and the men

  at their stations. All was ready on the Shadow as well.

  One wrong word, one wrong move, and the whole

  situation would explode.

  Finally, the two ships came alongside one another.

  Raeven couldn’t stop a smile when she saw her father

  on the deck. She moved to the quarterdeck so she

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  might be opposite him. The admiral didn’t smile back

  at her, and even at this distance, she could see he

  looked older, tired.

  She raised a hand, and he nodded. But his eyes were

  cold as they looked past her and studied Captain Cutlass.

  “Your flag indicates you want to parley,” he called.

  “If this is some trick to lure me close so you can attack,

  I’ll warn you we are fully armed and ready.”

  “It’s no trick, Father,” Raeven called before Bastien

  could answer. “The Shadow wants a peaceful exchange

  of words and terms.”

  Her father didn’t blink. “Terms for what?” he

  yelled back.

  “My return.”

  The admiral shook his head. “No terms. Send her

  over now, and we’ll consider not killing the whole lot

  of you.”

  “I can’t do that, Admiral,” Bastien said, his voice

  carrying across the two ships. “If you want her back,

  you’ll have to negotiate. Otherwise, she stays with

  me.” He wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled

  her possessively against him. Raeven knew it was no

  affectionate gesture but a move calculated to anger

  her father.

  It worked. The admiral’s face turned as red as the

  horizon at sunset, and he whirled to converse with his

  lieutenants. After several minutes of discussion, the

  admiral stomped back and called, “Cutlass, you and

  one of your crew have my permission to board the

  Regal. You will not be harmed and are guaranteed safe

  passage back.”

  Bastien still had his arm about Raeven, and she felt

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  the anger course through him. “Thinks I’m that much

  of a fool, does he?” he muttered in French. “I don’t

  think so,” he called. “Your ship has more guns, more

  men, more firepower. I might have outrun you, but

  the time for that is past. You and one of your lieuten-

  ants have permission to come aboard the Shadow. I

  guarantee you safe passage back.”

  The Admiral scowled. “And if I refuse?”

  Bastien shrugged as though it mattered not to

  him. But he stroked Raeven’s hair possessively.

  “She’s your daughter.”

  Another conversation between the admiral and his

  lieutenants ensued, and finally he called, “Agreed.

  Have your men throw down a ladder.”

  Raeven watched as the men went about their tasks,

  and her father and his first lieutenant moved away

  from the deck rail to converse. On board the Regal,

  the men began to lower her father’s gig. She turned

  to Bastien. “I want to be included in the discussions.”

  His eyes never left his crew members. “Of course

  you do.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to

  argue with me?”

  “No.” He raised a hand, and Ridley stepped

  forward. “Take her to my cabin. Lock the door and

  post a man outside. Then ready the ward—”

  “What?” Raeven screamed. “You do not honestly

  propose to lock me up while you and my father discuss

  my future. You cannot honestly believe—let me go!”

  Ridley had her about the waist and was pulling her

  toward the nearest ladderway. “I’m not going to be

  locked up! Cutlass! Bastien, you bastard!”

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  Ridley lifted her, hoisted her over his shoulder,

  and lumbered down the ladderway. Once they were

  below deck, she stopped fighting. She knew she wasn’t

  going to win, and Ridley was simply following orders.

  “You can put me down,” she ordered. “I won’t fight.”

  Ridley did so, but he kept one hand firmly on her

  arm. Raeven balled her fists and seethed. How like

  a man to pretend to listen to her advice, pretend to

  respect her opinion, and when the crucial moment

  came, send her away.

  They reached the captain’s cabin, and Ridley

  deposited her inside, closed the door, and locked it.

  A few moments later, she heard him speaking to the

  guard outside. There were plenty of windows in the

  cabin, but all faced the stern, and the two boats were

  floating side by side. Still, she stared out at the blue

  sky and the churning waters and wondered whether

  her father had come on board and what was being

  discussed in the wardroom.

  She still wore Bastien’s shirt and breeches, and

  she wondered now if she should return them and

  don one of the dresses in his trunks. After all, this

  would be the last time she would see him for some

  time, possibly ever. She knew they had talked about

  meeting again, but those were only words. Once he

  sailed away, he would find other adventures, other

  women. She hoped one of those adventures was

  locating his family.

  She supposed she could find other adventures and

  other men, as well, but she knew she wouldn’t. She

  knew no man would ever measure up to Bastien,

  no adventure would ever compare to those they had

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  shared, simply because no adventure would have the

  excitement of sharing the risks with him.

  Now that she was alone, she could admit she was

  well and truly in love with him. She wished she had

  told him more of her feelings. She wished she hadn’t

  stuttered and stumbled. She’d been afraid he wouldn’t

  reciprocate. Yes, he’d spoken endearments during

  their lovemaking, but did he really mean she was his

  heart and his love? Those might have bee
n just words.

  She wished she knew for certain. If he didn’t love

  her, at least their parting would be easier.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror and decided

  against changing clothes. In a very short time, these

  garments would be all she had left of Bastien. And he

  certainly had plenty of replacements.

  She paced back and forth, impatient, playing

  dozens of potential conversations over in her head,

  before she finally heard the sound of boots in the

  companionway outside.

  Bastien! She turned to the door and tried not to

  look too eager.

  The door swung open, and her father stood in it.

  She supposed her face must have fallen, because he

  scowled. “Don’t look so pleased to see me, Raeven.”

  “Father!” Though she’d been expecting Bastien,

  she was happy to see her father. She hugged him

  fiercely, noting with some alarm he seemed thinner

  and frailer than before. He hugged her back, but his

  voice was gruff when he said, “You’re coming with

  me. Now.”

  She nodded. She had expected this, only she

  thought Bastien would bring her the news. There

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  would be no private farewell for them, she realized

  as she followed her father into the companionway.

  She would see him on the deck of the ship, and that

  would be all.

  “Did you come to terms?” she asked her father.

  “Yes. And don’t ask what they were. One of the

  conditions was you were not to know the terms.”

  Raeven frowned. “That seems unusual. Why

  wouldn’t you want me to know the terms?”

  He glanced back at her as they started up a ladderway.

  “Why do you assume it was my condition?”

  Raeven felt her heart kick slightly. Just what had

  Bastien negotiated? “Surely you agreed not to destroy

  this ship,” Raeven said.

  “This ship will leave my sight unscathed,” her

  father commented as they stepped on deck. “Much to

  my regret. But if I ever see her again— ever—I’ll blow

  her out of the water and use her hull for toothpicks.”

  She reached out, put a hand on his arm. “I wasn’t

  hurt, Father. I was treated well.”

  He glanced back at her, shook his head. “Don’t

  think I don’t know what went on here. I may be an

  old man, but I’m no fool.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  He held up a hand. “We’ll discuss it on board the

  Regal. You’ll be confined to quarters, so I imagine

 

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