The Reckoning (Legacy of the King's Pirates)

by Marylu Tyndall

  Scratch, the new first mate, gave her a cursory glance as he bellowed orders to the men up in the sails, while Nick, standing by the tiller, smiled at her as if to assure her all was well.

  But was all well? Hadn't it been Rowan, and Rowan alone, who kept his men in line and away from her? And where was the pirate captain anyway? She faced the sea again, her traitorous thoughts speeding to their kiss. Despite her anger toward him, despite the fact that he was a stubborn egomaniac, she could not deny his effect on her. It wasn't just physical, though that had been intense! It went much, much deeper. She had feelings for him. Yes, if she admitted it, she actually cared for the pirate who had been kind to her and been her rescuer.

  But what did that say about Morgan? What kind of demented woman continually fell for vain, arrogant, self-centered men? In fact, she seemed to be getting worse. Jason, at least, had a law-abiding profession. Rowan was a pirate! She'd bet every penny in her dwindling savings account that he would do the same thing as Jason when he learned of her cancer. He'd dump her. Only Rowan would dump her in some wicked pirate town and leave her to her own devices.

  No, she wouldn't tell him. She wouldn't tell him how she felt about him either. It would only inflate his already blimpish ego.

  Speaking of ... she felt that blimpish ego emerge onto the deck, felt a warmth--a pleasurable warmth--run down her back when his voice resounded across the deck, issuing an order to adjust sail. As much as she desperately wanted to, she would not look his way. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she noticed him.

  To her left, one of the pirates, a beefy man in his twenties with a missing finger on his right hand and a black scarf atop his head, pulled out a knife and began whittling a chunk of wood, his eyes glued to her. He attempted a grin she was sure he meant to be charming, but the effect was lost at the sight of teeth that looked like they'd been dipped in mud.

  Shifting her gaze, she dared a glance at Rowan and found him standing beside Nick with a telescope to his eye.

  The boat galloped over another wave, and Morgan's legs began to ache from the strain of remaining upright. Just how did these men manage this day after day?

  "Lordy, Lordy, but it's a pretty day," Edith remarked, still smiling and gazing over the sky, "But I needs t' git t' my duties." She patted Morgan's hand. "You be all right here, child?"

  "Oh, sure, yeah. Just me and two dozen lusty pirates. I'll be fine." She regretted her sarcastic tone when the woman took her hand and gave her a look of concern.

  "Why you're wound tight as a furled sail. It's sich a beautiful day. What's got you so riled?"

  "How can you ask me that? You know my predicament more than anyone."

  "Ah." Edith waved a chubby hand through the air. "Whether you're in the future or in the past, God be wit' you, child. An' He has a plan. He won't leave you. You gotta know that, deep in there." She pointed at Morgan's heart.

  Actually, Morgan didn't know that, nor did she believe it anymore. "All I really know is that this God of yours has thrust me back in time into nothing but danger and to a place where the cancer He gave me cannot be cured."

  "He ain't given it t' you, child. But He can use it for good. 'Sides, as I said before, if you're gonna die anyway, what's left to fear?" The wind tossed her black curls about her face as she smiled at Morgan.

  Perhaps the woman was right, after all. What did any of this matter? Morgan might as well enjoy the warm weather, the beautiful scenery, the attentions of a handsome pirate. Even if she could get back to her own time, there was no guarantee the surgery and chemo would work. In fact, her chances had been slim. If she died here in a ship battle or sword fight, maybe that would be better than enduring the pain as the cancer grew and consumed her bit by bit.

  Still, Morgan was a woman who always had a plan. Everything in her life had been planned and scheduled, down to each minute. Well, everything except the cancer and her trek into the past. Which was all the more reason to form a new plan now. She would find the amulet and make every attempt to return home. But in the meantime, she would do her best to enjoy this crazy adventure. She glanced at the pirate to her left, still leering at her, then to the dozen more behind her doing the same.

  What did she have to fear?

  ♥♥♥

  Rowan lowered the spyglass and once again found his gaze wandering to the lady. By all that was holy, what was wrong with him? He could hardly keep his eyes off her. Nor could he stop the delight that had spun through him when he'd come on deck and spotted her by the railing. It had only been a day since she'd called him selfish and marched from his cabin. But it had seemed much longer. During his convalescence, he found himself longing for her company: her strange, bold speech; her clever retorts; her spitfire charm; and those deep moss-colored eyes so full of angst, sorrow ... and promise. Now, as she stood beside Edith, her maroon skirts billowing, her shoulders high and tight, and her eyes closed to the wind, he found a rare happiness filtering through him.

  He rubbed his mouth. The kiss they'd shared had surprised him. First, that she'd allowed it. Second, that out of her tightly-wound body had come such passion. Alack, he'd not seen the likes of it even amongst women skilled in the arts. Nor had he felt the likes of it in his own reaction. Which worried him the most. Lovemaking had always been one of Rowan's many pleasurable pursuits, a pastime, something to satisfy his urgings and stave off boredom. But the lightning bolt that had passed through him at her kiss, as her body pressed against his, went beyond the mere physical. It touched a deeper part of him that wanted more of her. And only her.

  And Rowan couldn't have that.

  "A pretty lass, is she, no?" Nick gave him a teasing grin.

  Rowan tore his gaze from her and raised his scope. "She'll do, I suppose."

  "Ye havena missed her the past day?"

  "Absurd." Rowan focused on the speck of land just coming into view. "She's naught but a silly woman."

  "Och, of course. Then wha' are ye to do wi' this silly lass? Do ye believe her tale?"

  "Rooster." Rowan turned to the new helmsman. "Alter course ten degrees south by southwest."

  "Aye, Cap'n," the young lad, who got his name from his beak-like nose and lack of a chin, replied eagerly, no doubt pleased with his promotion from seaman. Sails snapped above as the lad turned the tiller.

  Rowan faced Nick. "Believe her? Aye, I do. Though I feel as mad as she for saying so. As to the how or why she came to be here, I haven't a clue. As to the what to do with her, I find myself in the same state." He shook his head and glanced her way again. This time Edith laid a hand on hers and said something that seemed to lower Morgan's shoulders, and Rowan was glad for the older woman's presence on the ship.

  "Well, ye canna verra well leave her on land somewhere." Nick braced as the ship careened over a swell. "She ha' no way t' provide for herself. No relations, no idea of the way things work in this time."

  "I'm well aware of that." Rowan stiffened his jaw at his friend's interference.

  "And ye canna keep her here."

  "Why not?"

  "Och now, she's no' a pet to coddle an' hide away in yer cabin."

  "Do you have a better idea?"

  "Aye, perhaps." Nick gave Rowan a look of reprimand--the kind that always pricked his guilt. "But isna it more that ye wish to keep the lass for yer own pleasure, eh?"

  "You think me so base?"

  Nick's brows arched.

  "I grant you"--Rowan sighed--"I've given you cause. But I am not a man to take advantage of a woman who does not eagerly return my interest."

  "But ye hope t' charm her interest t' eagerness, no?"

  Wind tossed Rowan's hair in his face. He raked it aside, noting that Hunt had positioned himself within a few yards of Lady Minx. "The only thing I hope for now is to rescue Marianne Bloodmoon from certain death." He hoped his friend would take the hint and change the topic.

  "Still on tha' mad quest?"

  "Aye, and from the looks of it"--he handed Nick the spyglass--"W
e'll be at Petit-Goâve by sunset."

  The quartermaster placed the scope on his eye, focused it for a second, then nodded. "'Tis a fool's errand an' ye know it."

  Rowan gripped the railing and stared at the land growing in his vision. "Bloodmoon cannot be there yet. We sailed straight from New Providence."

  "But his ship is smaller an', hence, faster." Nick stated what Rowan had already determined. "Wha' will happen t' yer lady should ye get yerself killed?"

  Rowan chuckled. "You assume the impossible, Nick. But in the event of my demise, she will become your charge, of course."

  Nick shook his head and snorted. "Jist what I need, a mad lassie t' take care of."

  Hunt was even closer to the lady than before--his pretense at whittling not fooling her in the slightest as she cast anxious glances his way. In a way, Rowan missed the brave lady who would have given the lusty pirate a piece of her mind, but how could he expect any lady not to tremble on board a pirate ship?

  "Now, if you don't mind"--Rowan gestured toward Morgan--"can you rescue Lady Minx from Hunt before the fiend pounces on her?"

  ♥♥♥

  Morgan had to admit she was relieved to see Nick's beaming face appear beside her and offer to escort her below. Every time she faced that beastly pirate pretending to whittle his wood, he was even closer to her than before. Soon he'd be standing right beside her, grinning with those muddy teeth and undressing her with his eyes. She shuddered at the thought. She had wanted to head below herself, but didn't want to run into a pirate all alone in one of the narrow corridors before she made it to Edith's cabin.

  But then Nick appeared, his red hair aflame in the sunlight, his green eyes lively and twinkling mischievously. Why, she had no idea, but she imagined it was something Rowan had said.

  Taking his arm, she turned and finally met the Captain's gaze. He stood on the deck above, hair waving and coat flapping in the breeze, hands gripping the railing, and staring down at her with the oddest look--a mixture of admiration, anger, and ... concern.

  "What is Rowan's problem now?" she asked Nick as he led her down a hatch then up another ladder. "And where are we going? Edith's cabin is below a deck."

  "We're going t' Rowan's cabin, lass. An' his problem is tha' he's a blooming fool."

  She halted, a hint of a smile on her face. "I agree, but I'm still not going to his cabin. Not if he wishes to ... to ...."

  "Nay. 'Tis my idea. I need ye t' do something."

  "You want my help? For what?"

  "Come along an' I'll show ye." He continued down the dim teetering hallway that reminded Morgan of one of those slanted houses at a carnival.

  Bracing herself on the walls and more curious than frightened, she followed him into the Captain's cabin, her eyes automatically snapping to the spot where she and Rowan had kissed.

  A wave of heat doused her as the deck tilted, and she grabbed the back of a chair. Circling the desk, Nick rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a map, then rolled it out on the desk.

  It was the map Rowan wanted her to decipher.

  A weight settled in her stomach. Rowan hadn't been concerned about her safety. He only wanted her to decode his stupid map. "He put you up to this."

  "Nay. 'Twas my idea."

  His gaze never left the map, and she found herself believing him as she approached the desk. "So you can steal the treasure from Rowan?"

  He recoiled. "Och, now, lass. Ye wound me. D'ye think me so malicious as t' betray a friend?"

  Morgan huffed. "Well, you are a pirate."

  "Privateer, but I suppose it doesna matter." He smiled.

  "Then why do you want me to decode it?"

  "T' save Rowan's life."

  "Oh, please. So dramatic." Morgan rubbed her eyes then glanced over the desk, already a mess after she'd tidied it up. Wait. She smiled as a thought occurred to her. "Help me find Rowan's amulet, and I'll decode anything you want."

  Nick frowned. "The one ye stole?"

  "I didn't ..." Morgan growled. "Never mind. Yes, that one."

  "What d'ye need it for, lass?"

  Circling the desk, she began opening drawers. "I know this sounds crazy but I think it might have some power or something. I think it's what brought me here."

  "An' ye hope 'twill send ye back."

  "Exactly."

  He grabbed her wrist, holding it fast. "I dinna think Rowan will want ye looking through his things. Why no' jist ask him t' see the amulet?"

  "I did. He won't let me."

  Nick's brow wrinkled. "Why no'?"

  "He wants to keep me here for some reason." To feed his ego. To charm her into his bed. She really had no idea.

  Nick's mouth twisted as he seemed to ponder this information. Finally, he released her. "Verra well, I'll help ye."

  But Morgan's excitement was soon squelched when, after they'd searched every inch and nook of the desk, no amulet presented itself.

  She stepped back and sighed. "Great. He's hidden it somewhere."

  "Sorry, lass, but I still need yer help wit' the map."

  "I've already told Rowan that I'll decode it when he brings me home, which, I guess now means when he lets me try the amulet."

  Nick frowned and tugged on the tartan at his throat. "Lass, ye don't understand." His gaze met hers, unusual fear sparking within it. "If ye don't interpret this map now, Rowan may no' be able t' help ye wit' anything--ever again."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Because he's going t' get himself killed. He's going t' rescue Bloodmoon's wife before the vile cur ha' a chance t' kill her."

  "Bloodmoon would kill his own wife? For what?"

  "For entertaining Rowan."

  "Entertain ... oh." Heat swamped her face. "You mean ..." A burning sensation tore through her chest, one she knew all too well--jealousy. "So he actually did sleep with her like Bloodmoon suspected. And now he has to go clean up his own mess. Great." She moved away from the desk, suddenly feeling nauseous. "How is that my problem?"

  "Because I know ye care for him."

  "Don't be ridiculous." She looked away, unsettled by his perception.

  "An' because 'twas yer doing Bloodmoon found out." Wind whistled against the windows and Nick shifted his stance.

  "How do you figure?"

  "Are ye no' the one who told him?"

  Morgan settled into a chair, the hideous scene in the tavern playing out in her mind. "I suppose I did tell him about the map ... I even described it. And that's when he went ballistic." She trembled at the remembrance, though she'd thought it an act at the time. Guilt washed over her. Quickly replaced by anger. Or was it jealousy? The thought made her more angry. "Nevertheless, it wasn't me who slept with the man's wife! And how will decoding this map help anyway?"

  Nick planted hands on the desk and leaned over to study the chart. "Rowan's been seeking Brasiliano's treasure for years. I'm thinking if he knows exactly where it is, he might forsake his noble quest t' save Marianne an' retrieve it."

  "You would have him seek treasure over saving a life? I thought you were a God-fearing man."

  "He'll no' save her life, lass. 'Tis already forfeit. The lady sealed her fate the minute she allowed Rowan in her bed."

  Why did that thought disturb Morgan more than anything? She knew who Rowan was ... what he was. She'd read his history. Which reminded her ... she stood and gave a victorious grin. "You don't have to worry about Rowan. I happen to know for a fact that he doesn't die until 1714 in a duel with a jealous husband. Apparently he never learns to stay away from married women." She snorted as another pain sliced her heart.

  Nick raised a brow. "But ye ha' changed things, eh, lassie?"

  Morgan could only stare at him as the boat's creaks and groans etched truth in her mind. If she had changed history, if she had changed Rowan's course, then ... anything was possible.

  Fear curdled in her stomach.

  "It falls t' ye, lass. Ye are the only one who can save Rowan from the grave."

  Chapter
18

  "I'll need paper, parchment, or whatever you call it, something to write with, a ruler, and two hours," Morgan said with the same authority she often used as project leader at Qualcomm Industries.

  Nick's grin couldn't be wider as he hurried to gather her supplies. "Rowan will be busy aloft directing the ship to anchor near Petit-Goâve, lass. Tha' should give ye plenty of time. I'll leave ye t' it." And off he went, his bootsteps fading down the hallway.

  Morgan sighed, still not believing she was going to help a notorious pirate find buried treasure. If you had told her that a month ago, she'd have laughed herself to tears. If anyone had told her she'd be in 1694, she would have called the men in the white coats.

  Plopping down in Rowan's chair, she leaned her elbows on the desk and dropped her chin in her hands. Her life used to be so ordered, so planned. Everything in its place and her future mapped out to the minutest detail. Just like this ridiculous treasure map before her. Only like this treasure map, someone had come along and not only distorted, but encrypted all her plans until nothing made sense anymore.

  The boat seesawed to the left, sending the quill pen Nick had given her tumbling across the map. Snagging it, she felt the familiar tightening in her body as if someone were playing tug of war with her nerves. What she wouldn't give for a couple of Xanax right now. And some Vicodin for the pain in her side from the cancer. But she had neither. It was best not to think of it--of where she was and, more importantly, when. Instead, she would focus on saving Rowan.

  Not that he deserved it.

  Blackbeard leapt on top of the map and began batting another quill pen.

  Happy to see him, Morgan scooped him up and nuzzled his cheek, relishing his gentle purr, which always calmed her down. "Where did you come from, little one?" He looked at her with those slanted green eyes as if he completely understood her predicament before licking her nose with his sandpaper tongue. Giggling, she kissed him and set him on the floor. "I best get to work, Blackbeard. We haven't much time."