Beauty's Curse

by Tamara Hughes

  “Rufus, don’t be talking to Bart that way,” the cook demanded, throwing his ladle into the pot of oatmeal. “We’ve been sailing longer than you’ve been alive.”

  “Don’t mean nothing,” someone yelled.

  “Shut your gob,” another answered.

  Soon the room became divided, each side shouting their views of her, of one another, and God knew what else. The man missing his finger landed the first punch, and in a blink, the room erupted in violence. Fists were thrown and daggers drawn, even bowls of oatmeal were smashed into heads.

  David grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her toward the door, but the way was blocked. He dodged a fist and used one of his own. Shoving his opponent back, he opened a narrow path to the door. David made a move to drag her through, but the glint of steel stopped him.

  “Get to the cabin and lock the door,” he said, drawing his assailant away from her. When the path opened once more, he risked a glance her way. “Go!”

  She raced ahead, barely slipping past the skirmish. Once through the door, she grasped her petticoats and ran down the corridor. Footsteps followed at a rapid pace. David? She looked back, and her stomach hit the floor. Despite her best efforts, Rixon caught up to her and seized her arm in a bruising grip.

  “This has to end,” Rixon growled, dragging her onto the main deck and toward the rail. “You have to go.”

  “Stop!” She dug her heels in and yanked at his hold, only managing to slow him down. “Captain Swain said—”

  He shook her hard. “The captain has no idea what lies ahead if I don’t do something. You’ll be the death of us all.”

  They reached the rail and Rixon hoisted her up. She kicked and screamed, sure she would soon feel nothing but air, then water. Even if her dress didn’t drag her down to the ocean’s depths, she couldn’t swim. Her heart pounded so hard, it just might burst from her chest and reach the water first. Think! Do something.

  “If you kill me, you’ll die!” she shrieked. The exact words had come unbidden, but they succeeded where nothing else could. Rixon froze in place, his grip still too strong to escape.

  “That’s how the curse works,” she lied, hoping the quaver in her voice didn’t give her away.

  He set her on her feet and pushed her toward the rail. A healthy glimmer of fear in his eyes, he pulled a dagger from his belt. “Jump,” he ordered.

  Was he insane? Her hip against the rail, she stood defiant. “I won’t do it.”

  Rixon muttered an oath. “You don’t belong here. You’re endangering us all.” He thrust the dagger forward, threatening to stab her. “Return to your home, siren.”

  “Amelia!” David raced toward them, followed by William and several others.

  Rixon’s eyes rounded, and desperation flared bright. With a bellow, he lunged, his arms outstretched. In the scant seconds that passed, she launched herself to the side, but not far enough. Rixon grabbed her, his momentum propelling them both to the top of the rail. She screamed and twisted, shoving him away with all her strength. His grasp on her slipped, and she scrambled for a hold on the ship as he tumbled over the side and into the water below.

  David seized her by the sides and set her back on her feet, then clasped her to him. “My God. Are you hurt?” he asked.

  She shook her head, unable to speak. Her legs shook so badly, she would have dropped to the planks if not for David.

  The crewman with the missing finger made a move to climb over the rail, but William stopped him with a hard yank.

  “Use your noggin, Rufus,” he warned. “The fall alone would kill you.”

  Rufus glanced over the rail, then gave a growl of frustration. “To the boats!”

  The men hurried away, leaving her with David and a sick feeling in her middle. She leaned over and peered at the surface of the water below. No sign of Rixon.

  Her hair bristled, starting at the nape of her neck and rising to her crown. Tears blurred her vision, and she shook all the more. Rixon was likely dead. A sob tore free at what she’d just witnessed, at what could have happened. Did the crew think as Rixon had? Did they want to kill her? She drew in a sharp breath. Would they blame her for Rixon’s death?

  David guided her face toward his and looked into her eyes. “Don’t cry. You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She trusted David. She truly did, and still the tears fell. How long could he defend her against a determined crew? And what price would he pay in the process?

  “What’s the trouble?” Captain Swain called from an upper deck.

  David squeezed her tightly before he answered, “Man overboard.”

  “Who is it?” The captain surveyed the waters where a boat now floated. Rufus dove in.

  “Rixon,” David called back.

  A mixture of suspicion and surprise flickered across the captain’s face. “I’ll be down,” he said, turning away from them to head for the stairs.

  David brushed the tears from her cheeks. “The captain will help. He can keep the crew in line.”

  To protect one woman? She found that hard to believe.

  The captain soon approached them. “What happened?”

  Despite his words of reassurance, David stepped forward, blocking Amelia from view. “I have witnesses who can attest that Rixon fell overboard as he attacked Miss Archer.”

  Captain Swain looked over David’s shoulder with a critical stare, and her pulse leaped.

  David tensed. “She had nothing to do with—”

  The captain raised a hand. “Rixon was a mutinous fop who has done nothing but make trouble since he boarded our ship. Good riddance, I say.” He moved to David’s side, his gaze returning to her. “Besides, if a mere slip of a girl could kill him, Rixon deserved to die.”

  A clap of fabric overhead drew their attention toward the sky as a sudden breeze filled the mainsail.

  “It appears our luck has changed.” Captain Swain raised his hands to cup his mouth and yelled to the men below. “Back to the ship, men. Look lively. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Come, Amelia.” David guided her from the rail. “I’ll take you to your cabin.”

  She let him escort her away as the captain disappeared through a door that led below decks.

  “Maybe with Rixon gone, we’ll finally have some peace.”

  David’s words fell flat. They both knew that wouldn’t be the case. Rixon had died in his attempt to kill her, and there would be some who would say his death gave testament to the truth of his claims. Now that the seed of superstition had been planted, it was only a matter of time before the crew acted on their fears.

  Chapter Five

  This time I won’t escape. None of us will.

  Amelia gasped and held onto the bedpost as the ship rode another ocean swell. The floor slanted at an unwieldy angle and her feet slipped beneath her. She winced from the pain in her ankle. She’d removed her heeled slippers long ago, but not before twisting her ankle as she tried to remain upright.

  Nausea gripped her, and she stared out the small window. As if Neptune was releasing his fury, the seas rolled and heaved. She’d never seen such immense waves. They dwarfed the ship, concealed the horizon, and blotted out the sun. The force of the wind clouded the sky with a hazy mist. How quickly the seas had changed from morning to afternoon.

  A chill sank deep into her skin as the rush of water grew louder to her ears, drowning out all else. The cabin lurched in the opposite direction, taking her stomach with it. The ship will not sink. A wave will not flip it onto its side…

  A knock rattled the door.

  Her racing heart tripped over itself. They’d come for her. The captain’s mercy had come to an end, and to save themselves, they would cast her overboard.

  “Amelia?”

  David’s voice. Thank heavens.

  “Amelia, let me in.”

  A short, hysterical laugh erupted from her throat. He wanted her to cross the room and unlock the door with the ship swaying like a drunken sa
ilor? The instant the ship became somewhat level, she limped to the door, barely making the three steps before the floor leaned again. She clasped the door handle, but still fell to one knee with a whimper.

  The sound must have carried. Something heavy banged against the door, or rather someone. “Amelia!”

  “Stop. I’m fine. I’m fine.” Fumbling with the key in her pocket, she pushed herself to her feet, then unlocked the door.

  Before she could open it herself, David pushed the door wide. The ship pitched, and she stumbled, her ankle almost giving out again. David caught her arm and hauled her back, his feet planted wide to keep his balance. His arms encircled her waist.

  She latched onto him, clasping him around the middle and pressing her face against his chest. “We’re going to sink, aren’t we?”

  “From a few waves? No. Enough of the crew have recovered from their illness to man the posts. They’ll keep this ship afloat, I promise you.”

  His voice was calm and sure even as another wave rocked them so hard he too staggered across the floor. He seized a bedpost and brought her to the bed to sit down beside him. “I came to make sure you had no candles lit,” he said with a wink.

  No candles? She hadn’t the breath to laugh at his joke. It seemed all the air in the cabin was gone. “We’re going to die, and it’s my fault,” she murmured, growing lightheaded from the constant motion.

  He pulled her closer to his side and gave her a squeeze. “We are not going to die.”

  “We are.” When the ship lurched at a steep angle once more, she had nothing to hold onto but David. She clung to him, an arm around his neck and another at his waist, her head against his shoulder. Rixon had been right. “I should have been left behind. I’m bad luck.” Oh, why did I decide to visit my aunt?

  “I don’t believe that, and neither should you.”

  “But—”

  “I never took you for arrogant.”

  Arrogant? She lifted her head, ready to insist he explain himself, but stopped at his widening grin.

  “Do you really think you’re so powerful that you can coax an ocean to toss us about?”

  “No, I…I’ve always been told…” She looked into his eyes, his skepticism plain to see. He still didn’t understand even after all that had happened. “Bad things happen all the time.” She leaned with the ship, her weight pushing into him, and his arm around her tightened.

  “So you’ve said.”

  She lifted up her bare hand for him to see. “I have the scars to prove it.”

  “Show me.”

  Angling her hand to display the back of her thumb, she ran a finger over a glossy splotch. “This burn is from candle wax.”

  David chuckled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  She ignored his quip. “And this,” she pointed out a fingernail with a white mark already beginning to form, “is from dropping the lid of my trunk onto my hand just this morning.”

  “It proves nothing, except that you may be clumsy.” He shook his head. “Next you’ll tell me the faint mark on your cheek was caused by a terrible accident while brushing your hair.”

  She rubbed the spot in question. She remembered it well. Her stepmother had given it to her when she’d lost her temper. She’d slapped Amelia, and her ring had left its mark. Frustration welled up like a bubble about to burst. What was wrong with her? What pitiful examples. She could do better, much better. “My younger sister walks with a cane because of me. She fell down the stairs rushing to greet me when I returned from running away from home after an argument with my stepmother…and,” she yanked on the fabric covering her shoulder, but couldn’t move it quite far enough, “I was accidentally shot by a musket when I was a child playing in the—”

  When a cavernous groan rose up from the bowels of the ship, all further examples fled her mind. Fear lanced through her, and every muscle tensed until she shook.

  “Pay no attention to that sound,” David told her. “The Wanderer is solidly built. It will survive these waves.”

  Amelia heard him as if at a distance. Lies meant to keep her calm. They were sure to die. She could feel it deep in her bones.

  He bowed his head to capture her attention. “Amelia. Look at me.”

  She couldn’t. The vessel bellowed its misery again, and her heart nearly stopped beating. How long did they have left before the ship broke apar—

  His mouth, firm and warm, pressed against hers, silencing her fears. No peck on the lips, his kiss penetrated her senses, bringing her back to the here and now. In this moment, she was safe in his arms and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She sank into him, surrendering herself to his command, and luxuriating in the—

  He pulled away all too soon.

  His soft brown eyes studied her face, his gaze trailing over her lips for the longest minute. “Nothing is going to happen to you. These rough seas will pass.”

  Although a thread of fear remained, a more pleasant sensation surpassed it. A giddy rush of excitement danced in her belly unlike anything she’d ever experienced. David stirred some sweet emotion within her she couldn’t define, but she longed to feel it again. She leaned forward and settled her mouth on his. He froze as if unsure what to do.

  Fire leaped to her middle when his lips finally moved. With a moan, he deepened the kiss, his mouth exploring and savoring, and that feeling of exhilaration returned. She placed her hand on his chest and marveled at the smooth skin so hot to her touch, then brushed higher along his neck, past the stubble on his jaw, and on to feather-soft hair that teased her fingers.

  His tongue swept across her lips in a sensual glide that made her shiver, and she opened her mouth to do the same. The brush of tongue on tongue awakened a need within her she didn’t understand. Her muscles softened and melted, molding her more intimately against him, her breasts pressed to his side.

  David tensed and drew back, his breathing heavy. “We should stop.”

  The rise and fall of the ship became noticeable again, but it didn’t frighten her as much as before. “You kissed me first,” she said, her mind in a pleasure-filled daze.

  His strong arms still supported her against the swells, but he’d put more space between them. “Yes. To keep your mind from your fears.”

  She tensed, and her cheeks grew uncomfortably warm. Was that all the kiss had been? A tactic to keep her from panic? With a heartfelt glare, she pushed his arm from her and rose to her feet, grasping the bedpost to steady herself. “Next time leave me be. I’d rather be frightened.” Now who was fibbing?

  Oh, what was she thinking? She should be happy he had no interest in her. He was wrong about her. She was bad luck, and those who stayed too close suffered. David was a kind soul who’d come to her aid when no one else would. He would be far better off if she kept him at a distance. Yes. She should be happy. Instead, she yearned for what she could never have.

  …

  His back against the cabin door and his rear firmly planted on the floor planks, David stared at Amelia asleep in the bed. The waves had subsided hours ago. Now the sun barely lit the gloomy morning sky. A restless sleeper, Amelia had lost her cap and her hair had come unpinned. The long blond waves half obscured her face. How he longed to brush them aside to reveal her expressive features and to kiss those luscious lips again.

  Something about her drew him in like a siren’s song. She was beautiful in the extreme, and graceful, when she wasn’t poking slivers in her skin or burning herself alive. Perhaps her slight frame and her penchant for trouble were what appealed so strongly to his protective instincts. Possibly, although deep down he sensed something more. Amelia was a gentle soul who tried to see the good in people no matter their actions. Just as he used to.

  If only he could return to those days of naiveté. Life had been enjoyable then. Now everything tasted of bitterness. His innocence and compassion were long gone. All that he’d lived through this past year had jaded him to the point he barely recognized the man he’d become. A sweet girl like Am
elia deserved more than he could offer.

  Someone banged on the door so hard, his back bounced from the force. Amelia’s eyes sprang open, and she pushed herself upright, her hair tumbling past her shoulders.

  “Who goes?” David asked as he sprang to his feet.

  “Rufus, amongst others.”

  Rufus. His presence didn’t bode well. David pulled his dagger from its sheath, dread tightening his grip. “What’s your business?”

  “Open the door, or we’ll break it down,” Rufus warned.

  If that swine thought he could give orders here…

  “Cap’n Swain wants to see you and the lass,” another voice chimed in. William?

  He turned toward the bed. As quick and efficient as only a woman could, Amelia secured her hair in a knot at the back of her head. Despite the fear in her eyes, she issued a nod as if she’d expected this outcome. Honestly, he had as well. After the men had returned to the ship and a short prayer had been said for Rixon, the swells had come on so suddenly, there had been no time for accusations. Even with the captain’s acceptance of Rixon’s death, the crew would demand, at the very least, an explanation. A sense of foreboding clawed its way up his spine.

  When Amelia pinned her lace cap in place and stepped forward, he had the urge to tell the men outside to hie off, but he couldn’t defend this small cabin from a whole ship of pirates with one sword and a dagger, especially if Captain Swain played a part. Instead, he unlocked the door and swung it open, his blade raised.

  Rufus stood in the fore with a belligerent mien and stance. Behind him, William gave a sheepish look.

  Three had come to the door. David ignored all save Rufus. “Back away.”

  Rufus’s eyes narrowed, but he complied, retreating a few paces.

  David held out a hand to Amelia. “Come with me.”

  She didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and stayed close to his side as he ventured into the hall, careful to keep Rufus in his sight.

  The three men led the way to the deck where Captain Swain and the rest of the crew awaited them. Once more the air was motionless. The sails hung as slack as they had the days prior to the swells. Damnation. How could that possibly be?