The Reckoning (Legacy of the King's Pirates)

by Marylu Tyndall

  Morgan circled the desk, feeling more betrayed than she expected. "Yes, it does. I thought we had an understanding ... I thought ..."

  "Tha' he loves ye?"

  She frowned at the man's uncanny way of reading her mind. "He said he'd leave the amulet here for me to decide whether I would stay with him or not. I told him that if he went for the treasure, I would leave."

  "Ah, tha's why he seemed so unsure of himself this morn," Nick said. "No' like him at all."

  "Still, he left."

  "Aye. A man's lifelong dream is a hard one t' turn yer back on, even if 'tis the wrong dream."

  "Why are you here, Nick? I thought he'd bring you along to help."

  "Nay. My orders are t' protect ye, lass. When I didna find ye in Edith's cabin, I knew ye'd be here."

  Morgan released a heavy sigh. She supposed she should be comforted that Rowan thought of her, but her anger forbade any nice thoughts about the man at the moment.

  "How long will he--"

  "A sail! A sail!" A shout blared down the companionway, spinning Nick around. He turned back only long enough to grab her hand and pull her along behind him, up a ladder, and onto the quarterdeck to a blast of wind and the firing rays of a rising sun.

  She came to a halt beside Rooster at the helm and Scratch with telescope to his eye, studying something in the distance. He handed it to Nick.

  "Where away?" Nick asked.

  "A point off the stern quarter."

  Morgan followed the direction of Scratch's finger and peered into the morning haze. Something flickered on the horizon. Or at least she thought she saw something. There it was again.

  Nick groaned.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  He lowered the scope and slapped it in the palm of his hand. "'Tis Bloodmoon's ship. The ignorant carp musta followed us. Devil's blood! I shoulda known."

  "Bloodmoon?" Sweat broke out on Morgan's palms.

  "Aye. He'll be here within an hour."

  Morgan stared at the ship now forming on the horizon. "He's going after the treasure. He'll find Rowan and kill him."

  Nick's jaw tightened. "Aye, tha' would be his plan."

  "Then we have no choice. We have to warn him!"

  The Reckoning

  Chapter 28

  Rowan thrust his sword through a mass of thick vines blocking the trail. In front of him, Abbot and Terrin did the same, while behind him, Hendrix and three more of his crew marched in single file. Not wanting to leave the Reckoning undefended, he'd brought just enough men to haul the treasure back to the ship. Unless there was more gold than the rumors bespoke, which would be fine by Rowan. They had plenty of time to make several trips.

  Birds of all sizes and colors leapt from branch to branch above him, warbling their happy tunes, while insects hovered in a misty cloud about his sweaty face and neck. But he and his men would be there soon. He could already hear the water gushing over the cliff into the pond, that--according to the map--hid the chest full of treasure within the arms of its silty bed.

  Rowan had been to this island once before. He and his crew had sought shelter from a storm, but had ended up staying several days when they discovered fruit and fresh water. Lud, he'd even swum in that same pond where just a short distance beneath his feet had lain enough wealth to make all his dreams come true.

  If there was a God, He definitely had a sense of humor.

  A humor that seemed to have escaped Rowan at the moment, for despite the good fortune about to come his way, he found his spirits low and his feet barely able to slog through the mud. 'Twas that infuriating, self-righteous woman! She had bewitched him. 'Twas the only explanation why his thoughts sped more to her than to the impending fortune that would solve all his problems.

  He slashed the branch of a large fern and trudged forward, fingering the amulet in his pocket. Guilt swamped him, weighing him down more than the humidity saturating the air. He hadn't planned on taking it, but the very thought that she'd be gone when he returned to the ship was unbearable--unconscionable, in fact--and had nearly kept him from going. This way, at least he'd have another chance to speak with her, to convince her of his love, that treasure or no, he couldn't live without her. Of course it wouldn't hurt that he would already have the fortune in his possession.

  Still, though he could hear the water clearly now and his men were beginning to chatter excitedly, he found no joy bubbling within him. Quite the contrary. What in hellfire was wrong with him? More than once, he'd even entertained the thought of turning back, forsaking the treasure, and marrying the lady. Faith, wouldn't that be a mad turn of events! The great pirate Rowan Dutton giving up his freedom, his treasure, for the likes of a woman of no name, property, or fortune.

  Swatting a bug, Rowan brushed aside a thicket of greenery and emerged onto the shore of a sparkling pond. Abbot and Terrin were already kneeling and splashing water over their faces and necks and bringing handfuls to their mouths. The rest of his men soon followed, cursing and dabbing the sweat on their necks with bandannas.

  "Hotter than Hades, says I," one of them proclaimed as he tugged off his boots and waded into the water.

  "Hendrix, Terrin, strip down," Rowan ordered, raking a hand through his sweaty hair. They were his best swimmers, and he would need their help hauling the chest to shore.

  Flinging his baldric and pistols over his head, he laid them aside and removed his shirt, not allowing the pain still emanating from his wounds to show on his face. He fished in his pouch for the map and held it up to the light. Falls, aye. Morgan's interpretation of the code was scrawled right in the middle of the island beside the picture of a waterfall. Which could only mean one thing. Brasiliano had hidden his gold behind the waterfall or beneath it. Exactly where Rowan would have hidden it as well.

  He glanced to his left, where water cascaded over a twenty foot drop into a rippling pond that smoothed to near glass as it extended toward the opposite shore. Treetops and blue sky reflected in the water like a painting, while nothing but a maze of green lined the sand in all directions. Good. They were alone.

  "Hendrix, Terrin, with me. The rest of you keep watch." Rowan sat on a rock to remove his boots when the sound of footsteps and leaves shuffling intruded on the peaceful rush of water. Grabbing his cutlass, he leapt to his feet and faced the jungle. His men did the same, cocking pistols and hefting swords.

  Leaves moved and Abbot cocked his pistol. Rowan grabbed his wrist, staying the shot just as Nick burst into the clearing.

  "What the devil are you--"

  Green skirts flashed between the branches, and Morgan followed behind him, her breath heavy, her hair full of twigs and leaves, her skin glistening with sweat. And despite his anger at the interruption, he'd never seen her look so beautiful.

  "'Tis Bloodmoon," Nick panted out as his stern gaze met Rowan's. "He's here. Anchored offshore by now."

  Rowan fisted his hands, cursing himself. "He followed us. Of course."

  Morgan rushed to him. "You have to leave. He'll kill you."

  He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her. Instead he turned to Nick in anger. "Are you daft? What possessed you to bring her? Especially with Bloodmoon on the way."

  Nick shrugged. "Have ye ever tried t' order her aboot?"

  Rowan growled, glanced over at Terrin and Hendrix all ready for a swim, then over at the falls where the wealth he'd sought his entire life lay within his grasp.

  "How close is he?"

  "Close enough." Nick gave him that look Rowan knew all too well--a look that bespoke of the seriousness of the situation.

  Morgan tugged on him. "You don't have time, Rowan. Please come back with us."

  Rowan glanced over his men. "Give us a moment." Then taking Morgan's hand, he led her through a mass of greenery to a more private spot where he spun her to face him.

  "Lud, woman, do you know the danger you've put yourself in? Bloodmoon may kill me, but what he'll do to you will be worse than death."

  "Exactly.
All the more reason we should go now." She pulled him, but he remained in place, staring at her, at the fear and desperation in her eyes. "Listen, Rowan. I came because I knew I'd have a better chance than Nick of persuading you to come back."

  The shock of her words spun his thoughts into bewilderment. "You could die. I'm not worth it."

  Her expression softened as she reached to caress his jaw. "That's what love does, Rowan."

  Something shifted in his heart. A change so palpable, he could swear he felt it grow in his chest. He stared at her, through her shimmering green eyes, and straight down to her heart that was so full of love for him.

  And he realized that all the treasure in the world could never compare to her.

  ♥♥♥

  Morgan saw something flicker in Rowan's blue eyes, as if a light went on, scattering the darkness. He pulled her against his sweaty body, but she didn't care. It felt incredible to be in his arms again--it felt right. He gently stroked her hair as a deep rumble began in his chest, growing louder and louder, and eventually spilling from his lips. Was he laughing at her, mocking her love for him?

  She stepped back. "What's so funny?" But the look in his eyes was anything but taunting. It was affection, admiration, and joy all bundled together.

  His lips curved as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I must be going mad, but I've a mind to ask you to be my wife."

  She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or leap for joy. The sincerity in his eyes caused her to do all three. Yet still ... she finally sobered and studied him intently. Had she heard him right? "I have to admit that's not quite the way I pictured a man proposing to me."

  "My apologies, Lady Minx. Allow me to correct my bumbling attempt." He knelt in the mud, took her hand in his, then gazed up at her, a serious but unusually vulnerable look on his face. With his bare chest glistening, hair hanging to his shoulders, a day's stubble on his jaw, and a cutlass strapped to his side, he appeared a pirate by all accounts--the existential bad-boy charmer she should run away from as fast as she could.

  But love wasn't always safe. Life wasn't always safe. And Morgan had learned that the control she'd thought she had over everything was all a delusion. Only by resting in God did she find peace.

  "Miss Morgan Shaw, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Rowan felt through his pockets with his free hand. "Alas, I have no ring, but I promise to purchase you the most beautiful one in all of the Caribbean."

  He was serious. He was actually proposing. Shock sped through her, followed by unbelief, and then a joy that tentatively crept out from hiding, making sure the way was clear from danger, from heartbreak. But was it? "With whose treasure?" she asked him, her hopes teetering on his response.

  "Not this treasure." He nodded toward the pond behind him. "Not if gaining it means losing you, Lady Minx." He caressed her hand again. "I never thought I'd say this, but you mean more to me than a ship-full of treasure."

  Morgan's vision clouded. "What changed your mind?"

  He continued kneeling in the mud, the steely pirate brought to his knees, still gazing at her as if she were made of gold. "The thought of you leaving me forever," he said. "And knowing you'd risk your life for mine. I suppose I never truly believed you could love a blackguard like me."

  The sound of a throat clearing followed by Nick's voice filtered over them. "It would be better if we left sooner rather than later, Captain."

  Rowan kissed her hand. "Torture me no longer. What say you, Lady Minx?"

  She lowered to kneel beside him, smiling. "I say yes!"

  He showered her face with kiss after kiss, then wiped her tears with his thumb. "Why are you crying?"

  "For joy, my love. For joy!" A sparkle caught her eye, and she glanced down to see a gold object by his knee. A piece of jewelry of some sort? "What is this?" She picked it up and turned it around.

  A heart shaped ruby embedded in engraved gold stared up at her. The amulet.

  Her heart stopped. Her insides screamed NO!

  She gazed up at Rowan in horror. His eyes--equally filled with terror--shifted between her and the amulet.

  Yet moments passed and she remained. Expelling a huge breath, she held the precious amulet to her chest. "It doesn't work. Thank God, It doesn't work!"

  Rowan helped her to stand, his own breath heavy with relief. "'Tis best we leave."

  "I'm so happy, Rowan," she said as he put his arm around her and led her through the bushes. Another tear spilled down her cheek. She stared down at the amulet, admiring the gold crosses on either side of the beautiful ruby, reinforcing even more that God had saved her.

  The tear fell from her jaw, drifted through the air as if it weighed no more than a feather.

  Rowan gasped, and in her blurry vision she saw his hand reach for the amulet.

  Horrified, but unable to move, she watched, as if in a dream, her tear--a glittering pearl shimmering in a ray of sunshine--falling down ... down ... down...

  Rowan grabbed the amulet.

  Her tear struck.

  Water engulfed Morgan. She gulped for air. The sea flooded her lungs. Blurred shapes and shadows surrounded her. She kicked her feet, but they got hopelessly tangled in her gown. Her arms felt weighted with lead. Above her, streams of light twisted beyond the surface. She moved her hands and flapped her legs, trying to swim, but her dress and underthings were like an anchor. She sank further and further into the darkness. Her mind reeled with shock. How did she get here? Where was she? God, help me. Please ...

  A splash sounded above her. Arms grabbed her, pulling her through the liquid death, hoisting her into the sun. Her lungs screamed for air. She landed on something hard. Faces twirled around her. A mouth landed on hers.

  "Breathe! Breathe!" someone shouted.

  Air tried to force its way through the water in her lungs. Pain. All she felt was pain.

  A mouth encompassed hers again. More air.

  She coughed, turned her head, and spewed a lungful of water.

  Clapping and cheering sounded. A siren blared.

  She gasped for more air.

  "You're going to be all right now, Miss." The accent was British.

  "What happened to her?" Men in uniform surrounded her.

  "No idea. She just appeared in the water."

  Morgan felt herself being lifted and placed on a gurney.

  "Thank you," she managed to mumble to the man who had saved her, before the ambulance doors slammed shut.

  Chapter 29

  Muted sounds, distant and strange, tiptoed through Morgan's mind. Not the creak and groan of a ship, not the jarring flap of sail or the rush of water against the hull, but odd beeps and bells and phones ringing and people talking and shoes shuffling over tiled floors. Along with the incessant drone of electricity.

  The smell of antiseptic and sickness stung her nose, and she nearly gagged, searching for the soothing scent of oak, tar, and the sea. And the musky, spicy smell that was only Rowan.

  "Rowan ... Rowan." The name dragged her further from her unconscious bliss. But then the pain started--her heart an empty shell, a black hole sucking her life into emptiness. "Rowan." She'd lost Rowan. No! She retreated into oblivion.

  "Darling, you're awake." The familiar voice dragged her back. "Morgan. I'm here, darling."

  Against everything within her, Morgan pried one eye open. Her mother sat by her side, holding her hand and looking more tired than Morgan remembered. Short brown hair curled around a face that bore more lines and sags than her fifty years should warrant. Still her drug-hazed eyes held genuine love and concern.

  "Mother."

  The woman tried to smile, though fear peeked from the corners of her lips. "What on earth happened, dear? How did you end up in the bay?"

  Morgan opened her other eye, knowing before she did what she would find. A hospital room, complete with beeping monitors, trays on wheels, blue privacy curtains on a track around her bed, an old TV set hanging on the wall, and that sickly sterile smell that made her stom
ach lurch.

  So, the amulet had worked after all. Her breath clogged in her throat and she raised her hands--empty hands. "Where's the amulet?"

  "What amulet?"

  "I was holding an amulet." Her heart plummeted. She must have dropped it in the water.

  "Are you all right, dear? You look so pale."

  "How long?" The words drizzled from Morgan's lips, from a mind that was growing more dazed by the minute.

  At her mother's curious look, Morgan added, "How long have I been gone?"

  Her mother shook her head. "You went to the Royal Tall Ship Festival just this morning. Why were you dressed in that old gown? And how did you end up in the water? I hope you weren't drinking at one of those pubs downtown."

  Morgan blinked, trying to collect her thoughts. Just a moment in time. She'd only been gone a moment in time. Yet her entire life--her very eternity--had been saved in that single moment.

  "I was on Rowan's shi--" Where had the replica of his ship gone? She breathed out a sigh, trying to steady her racing pulse. "It's a long story, Mom." A very long story. One that her current state of shock prevented her from telling.

  "I told you not to go to that festival. Especially with that friend of yours. No doubt this is all her fault." Her mother scowled. "Besides, you are sick, Morgan. You must remember that."

  The cancer. Would it have returned now that Morgan was back? Yet, aside from the trauma of being home again, she still felt different--strong and healthy on the outside and free and renewed on the inside. God, what is going on? Please?

  His presence remained.

  "Why are you crying?" Her mother squeezed her hand. "You're safe now."

  A nurse peeked around the corner, and upon seeing Morgan awake, sped to her bedside, smiled and checked various instruments. "You'll be fine now, Miss. Just a wee bit of water in your lungs, but you're breathing well on your own."

  Why did she have a British accent? Morgan studied the tag on the woman's uniform. Above her name, Emily something, the words "Queen Arabella Mercy Hospital" stood out in stark black letters.