Tiger Eyes

by Kimberly Nee

  Yet, he wanted her. Of all the fine ladies, of all the well-bred beauties in the world, he wanted her. How mysterious fate could be.

  As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to gaze down at her. “You’re quiet, Gabby. Heavy thoughts?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not exactly. I find it all so difficult to believe, that I am here. On my ship. I thought I would never see it again.”

  “Oh, you would if it meant I had to sail to every port between St. Phillippe and Puerto Rico. We would have found it eventually. Of course—” a playful glint sparked in his eyes, “—our children would probably be at the helm of their own ships by then, but we would find it.”

  The wind picked up, carrying the tang of salt on it. In the distance, dark iron gray clouds gathered to threaten the perfect sailing weather. She sighed as she wrapped her arms about herself. The air wasn’t particularly cold, but she was chilled all the same.

  He smiled at her. “Do you suppose Jonathan will remain on St. Phillippe? Or will the English in him call him back to London?”

  “I’m sure, once he sees the lovely ladies of St. Phillippe, he will be none too eager to leave.”

  He chuckled softly. “He doesn’t strike me as the rakish sort.”

  “He used to be exactly that.” She hugged herself tighter. “It’s nice to have family again. I’ve missed Uncle Jonathan. My father would allow me to visit him, but we were at sea so often, those visits grew further and further apart. I only wish I hadn’t spent these last five years avoiding England entirely.”

  “I am quite happy you did. I imagine my life would be rather dull, without you blowing through it.” He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “While I still would have found myself in the Nereus’s hold, I definitely wouldn’t have spent seven weeks alone in paradise with my fantasy woman. I wouldn’t have nearly been hanged and I would not be betrothed.”

  “You make it sound almost unfortunate.”

  “Yes, I suppose I do. However, it is anything but.”

  She sighed softly as his thumb stroked hers. The moment was as close to perfect as any she could have imagined. England was far behind them, and growing smaller still, and with it, the memories of her time at Hampton House. No doubt, William was in his drawing room, gnashing his teeth over the loss of the Galatea and his failure to make her disappear. But it no longer mattered. With each hour sliding by, her fear of his coming after them faded. William would not take to the ocean. He had almost no knowledge of sailing, wouldn’t know the first thing about assembling a crew, and would most likely sink any ship long before they were out of English waters.

  “What is on your mind, Gabby?” Diego asked as she stared out at the glittering silver path of the Galatea’s wake.

  “I don’t like knowing William is still alive and well and able to come after us, should he so desire.”

  “He would have to be mad. And besides, how would he even know where to begin looking? There are so many islands between Puerto Rico and St. Phillippe, he could spend a score looking for you and never even come close.” He gently urged her around to face him. “And if he does happen to have luck shine down on him enough to lead him to our shores, you can rest assured that I will not let him anywhere near you.”

  His eyes darkened with those words, and a single muscle bulged in his jaw. “You won’t have to worry, Diego. I am quite capable to looking after myself.”

  “I know. But you won’t have to look over your shoulder. Just know that he would never get within a league of you.” He released her to catch her face in his hands and tilt it back to meet his serious gaze. “You worry only about our wedding and our baby. I will worry about everything else. Is that understood?”

  Her belly did a slow flip over those words and how serious his expression became. “Diego, you aren’t worried, are you?”

  “Not at all, and neither should you be worried.”

  Another gust of wind blasted along the deck, cooler than the last. Gabby shivered. “Perhaps I should go below. Now, I’m sorry I argued with you about letting Angel captain.”

  “Angel Figueroa is as trustworthy as they come, he’s a damn fine captain, and that is why I insisted he sail with us. And that is the last word on the subject.” He bent toward her and brushed her lips with a soft kiss. “Now come. You need rest, mother-to-be.”

  “Diego.”

  “You cared for me on that island, amor. Now it is my turn to return the favor.” His tone brooked no argument as he steered her away from the railing and back toward the stairs. “And you are also looking a bit on the green side. I thought you said you had no ill effect?”

  “I hadn’t.” At least, not until she set foot back on the Galatea. Galling, really, that she should suffer seasickness now, when it never once bothered her before. Now, she was quite queasy, to say the least.

  Diego escorted her back to their cabin, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she reclined on the bed. “I had no idea I would feel so sick. I hope I don’t feel this way the entire voyage.”

  “I should have asked Finn to come with us,” he mused, dragging a chair away from the table to set up at her bedside. “She’s been through this several times now.”

  She fought the urge to grimace. “Somehow, I don’t think Finn Sebastiano would do much to soothe me at all.”

  “You need give her another chance, Gabby. Her heart is in the right place. I am her friend. Addy is her friend. And she enjoys playing matchmaker.”

  “She needs to give me another chance as well, Diego. Before I left St. Phillippe, she all but ordered me to stay as far away from you as possible.”

  “That was before.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and stared as he stretched out his long legs and brought his booted feet up onto the bed, crossed at the ankles. “Before?”

  He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands before saying, “She saw me miserable over you. Twice. She’s fiercely protective of those she cares about. She didn’t want to see me hurt.”

  “Hmmph!” Gabby couldn’t hold back her snort. “She doesn’t want to see you with anyone other than the woman she deems worthy.”

  “That isn’t fair. You don’t know her.”

  “And she doesn’t know me. And why the devil are you taking her side?”

  He lowered his hands and shook his head. “I’m not taking her side, Gabby. I merely understand her because I know her. When she sees I am happy, she will back off.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “If she doesn’t, then Iñigo will take her to task, I’m sure. That won’t be necessary, though. She will see that I am happy with you. That I am in love with you. That I’m going to marry you, and that we are going to have a child together. If that does not make it painfully clear to her, then I will be at a loss.

  “Then again, you will need to hold back your instinct to confront her. I know you, Gabby. I know you will want to clear the air as soon as possible, but you’ll have to curb that instinct.”

  She sighed softly. “Was there ever anything between you and her? Is that why she has appointed herself your keeper?”

  It was something that had weighed on her mind since the very first time she met Fiona Sebastiano. It struck her as odd, that this woman should be so concerned with Diego, unless she had more than a vested interest in him.

  But Diego simply stared at her for a long moment, then a smile creased his face. “No. There was never anything between Finn and I. Iñigo’s had her heart since the very beginning, since before either one of them even realized it. She and I are friends, no more and no less.”

  The ship’s gentle rocking caused a drowsiness to settle into her body and her eyelids grew heavy. Diego caught her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Rest now, amor. I am going to go up and speak with Angel, but I’ll return when I am finished. I will also have Henry prepare a tray for you.”

  She nodded as her eyes slid shut on their own. Sleepily, she murmured, “I thank you, Diego.”

&
nbsp; Gabby dozed peacefully when he left the cabin and made his way to the wheelhouse, where Captain Angel Figueroa was poring over a chart. “Angel?”

  “Ah, Captain! I take it Captain Markham is resting?”

  “She is.” He crossed over to the table where the parchment lay spread out. “I’ve not told her we are pulling into port at Charles Town yet.”

  A deep furrow creased between Figueroa’s heavy dark brows. “She should know. It will add nearly a week to our journey.”

  “I know, but I do not wish to trouble her, and you will say nothing as well.”

  Figueroa’s sigh was harsh and tired. “And if we run into trouble?”

  “We shouldn’t. You are certain that is the Nereus behind us?”

  He expected the nod, but it still curdled his belly when Figueroa bobbed his head. “I am positive, Captain Santa Cruz.”

  Diego swallowed the oath rising to his lips. Gabby had already been tucked away in her cabin aboard the Galatea when he thought he spotted the Markham coach at the docks. He hadn’t seen William, but when the Galatea threw off her lines and moved from her berth, activity aboard the Nereus, only a few slips away, picked up to a frenzied pace.

  He didn’t want Gabby to know William was doing exactly what she feared. She had enough on her mind, without the added strain of her half-brother breathing down her neck. No, they would pull into port at Charles Town and if William Markham was fool enough to pull into port as well, Diego would tend to him as he saw fit. He preferred facing Lord Hampton in the colonies, as opposed to London, where a duel would not result in the possibility of his imprisonment. Unlike Gabby, he would not show any mercy.

  “If they come any closer, alert me at once. This ship is outfitted with cannon below deck. We will not run, but will blast them out of the water instead.”

  “I should think that would most definitely alert Captain Markham.”

  Diego glared at him “I will worry about Captain Markham, Angel. You need concern yourself only with not losing sight of that ship.”

  “I can assure you, Captain Santa Cruz, I have Jack and George on watch and have made it perfectly clear they are to let me know if the Nereus grows any closer, or appears to be preparing to attack.”

  “Good.” Diego clapped him on the shoulder. “Carmichael was a sailor and a seasoned one at that. He knew this ship, but I doubt Markham does. He may do something foolish, thinking we are unarmed. In fact, I would count on it. The man is more brawn than brains. And I would take great delight in sinking him in the middle of the Atlantic.”

  “I would never guess you had so bloodthirsty a streak, Captain.”

  Diego grinned as he moved to the doorway. “I am protective of what is mine, Captain Figueroa. My bride-to-be and the child she carries most definitely fall under that category.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Though he’d been waiting for Markham to make a mistake, Diego hadn’t anticipated him doing it so soon. He also thought the man would only be brave enough to attack when he was assured of having some sort of assistance, such as in the Colonies. He hadn’t considered William might be foolish enough, or brazen enough, to attempt a battle on open water. He obviously either didn’t know about the Galatea’s firepower, or chose to ignore it.

  Still, as Gabby rested in her cabin, Diego sent word around that she was not to be disturbed, no matter what. He didn’t want her coming topside for any reason. Hopefully, they would dispatch the Nereus quickly, and as quietly as possible.

  But those hopes were dashed as the Nereus blasted a single cannonball in their direction. The shot went across their bow, but wide, and hit the water to send up a funnel of spray. Angel glanced over at him. “I suppose that was our warning shot.”

  Diego nodded. “I’ll send word for everyone to man their position and prepare to return fire.”

  “What the devil is going on out there?”

  Both Angel and Diego spun about to see Jonathan Wrothston standing in the doorway of the wheelhouse. Diego frowned. The last thing he needed was a blacksmith underfoot. “Get yourself below before something happens to you.”

  “That’s ol’ Willy out there, ain’t it?” Jonathan moved to the port side of the wheelhouse to peer out. “You’d think havin’ the Captain Charles as his father, the boy’d have some ocean smarts.”

  Both Diego and Angel stared hard at the old man with the long, grizzled beard, wondering, “Captain Charles?” in unison.

  Jonathan nodded. “Did Gabby never tell ye, Cap’n Santa Cruz? Their father was none other.”

  Diego couldn’t help but grin. It certainly explained Gabby’s sharpened instincts when it came to ships and sailing. It was in her blood. There were very few sailors in this part of the world who didn’t know Captain Charles, if not by name, then by reputation. “It looks as though those particular skills skipped one of the good captain’s children.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “Can I sit here an’ watch as ye blast ’im to hell? It’d be quite the show.”

  “So long as you stay out of the way,” Angel warned, shooting Diego a look that clearly suggested the blacksmith ought to think about being a spectator elsewhere on the ship. “Unless, you think he’d be better off down below, Captain Santa Cruz?”

  Diego didn’t want Jonathan anywhere near Gabby, where he might slip and spill about Markham’s arrival. “Here is fine. We might need him and I’d rather not have to go hunting below for him.”

  “Where is Gabriella?”

  “She is below, where she will stay,” Diego said, folding his arms over his chest. “She is to remain undisturbed for as long as possible.”

  Jonathan’s beard swayed with each emphatic bob of his head. “I couldn’ta said it better meself. The last thing she needs is to be caught in the middle of a battle.”

  Diego offered up a silent prayer of thanks that Jonathan wasn’t being difficult about leaving Gabby be and insisting someone fetch her. She’d been through enough these last few weeks and he’d be damned if he let anyone upset her again, least of all the half-brother who tried to kill her.

  Another explosion shook the air, this time emanating from the Galatea. All three men turned to watch as chainshot burst out over the water and wrapped about the Nereus’s bowsprit, snapping it cleanly from the ship.

  “Not bad,” Diego murmured, wondering which man fired the succinct shot. His wondering was forgotten moments later, when the Nereus returned fire. This time, she found her target as chainshot tore through several spars on the mizzenmast. He turned back to Angel. “Bring her around, Mr. Figueroa, and heave everything we’ve got at ’em.”

  Down below, the sudden burst of noise and jar of the ship roused Gabby from a most pleasant dream. The heavy boom of cannon fire echoed in her ears, bringing a frown to her lips. “Cannon? What on earth are we firing at?”

  She kicked back the blankets and rose from the comfortable bed to rush to the line of windows at the back of the cabin. “Oh my God…” she breathed as her gaze alit upon the Nereus closing in on them. “How the…? What the…? Has he gone completely mad?”

  In her haste to get topside and find out exactly what was going on, Gabby didn’t trouble herself even to tug on her boots, but yanked open the door and dashed down the corridor.

  The cannon were a deck lower than her cabin—between the cabins and the hold—and the ship lurched wildly to starboard as three cannon went off at the same time. The concussion sent her reeling from one side to the other, before she was able to regain her footing. It’d been too long since she’d last seen battle, and chuckled to herself over her rusted instincts. At least her belly wasn’t roiling and tossing. It finally seemed to have adjusted to the rolling of the ship and calmed, much to her relief.

  That calmness fled in a heated rush and her belly twisted into knots as she stepped out into the grayness, to see the Nereus angling about in order to fire on them. All about her, the Galatea’s crew rushed to and fro as they hurried to ready themselves for battle and the unfamiliar faces were pain
ful, unsettling reminders that these were not her men. These weren’t the men she’d sailed with for the better part of the last five years. These men were strangers to her, and she had no way of knowing if they were competent, or if they’d run up the white flag.

  Speaking of flags—

  She whipped about and her stomach snarled into a huge knot as she saw the red flag fluttering high atop the Nereus’s mainmast. Surely William couldn’t possibly know the significance of that flag, and the fear it was meant to instill. Most likely, one of the crew ran it up on their own.

  It was obvious Diego had seen the Nereus’s flag, for a man was busily raising the Galatea’s red flag as well. She couldn’t help her smile. The Nereus had no idea what she faced, as Gabby had faith in her ship and even more in Diego and his choice for crew.

  Bright orange flashed from two of the Nereus’s cannon. Gabby reeled toward the foredeck as both shots fell short. They slammed into the already rough water and sent a shower of seawater splooshing across the deck.

  “Gabby!”

  She winced at the red-hot fury in Diego’s voice as he jumped from the foredeck to the maindeck, bypassing the stairs entirely. He grabbed her by the arms. “What the devil are you doing up here?”

  “Well, I was trying to sleep, but then the entire ship shook and it not only woke me, but made me rather curious as well.” She shook herself free and squinted at the Nereus. “How long have you known they were following us?”

  “Gabby—”

  “How long, Diego?” Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “And do not dare think to lie to me, either.”

  Captain Figueroa snickered behind Diego, and she rounded on him. “How long, Captain? And don’t you even think to lie for him.”

  “Since yesterday, Captain Markham.” Angel shrugged as Diego turned his glare on him. “Apologies, Captain Santa Cruz, but she frightens me more than you do.”

  “Since yesterday? And yet I’m only learning of this now?” She grabbed Diego firmly by the wrist and almost dragged him back toward Figueroa. “Tell me you stand behind that flag.”