by Paula Quinn
Trina expected a number of different reactions from Alex. He might have ignored her, since she did seem to be driving him mad with her mouth and her body pressed close to his. He might have become belligerent. What man didn’t enjoy ordering his woman about? Even if his woman never obeyed his orders, he still liked giving them. She’d seen it enough in Camlochlin. But why agree to do what he says and then not do it? It formed mistrust and Alex didn’t need any more of that in his life. She expected a grin when his pride swelled and compelled him to challenge and then deny her. Mayhap he’d smile, since he had, after all, made her the constant source of his amusement.
She didn’t expect him to toss back his head and laugh at the heavens.
“What is so humorous?” she asked, insulted and a bit hurt.
“’Tisn’t humorous, Caitrina. ’Tis refreshin’ and bold and exactly what I’ve come to expect from ya.”
She smiled, liking his answer and liking even more that she made him laugh tonight after so much heartbreak. She moved to kiss him again. Mr. Pierce’s clearing his throat stopped her.
“Pardon me, Miss Grant,” he interrupted them, twisting his cotton cap in his hands and avoiding her glance. “I need a word with the cap’n alone. ’Tis important.”
Alex nodded and smiled at her when she stepped out of his embrace.
“Of course, Mr. Pierce,” she granted easily. What they suspected about him was based on nothing solid. His affection for Alex was either genuine or he was an absolute master of masking his true inner motives. And damn it, but she liked the quartermaster. She didn’t want to think he was betraying Alex and she didn’t want to see Alex suffer if he was.
Before she left, she turned back to Alex. She hadn’t gotten her answer. “D’ye agree to helping me then, Captain?”
Och, but his wide, dashing grin was devastating to her good senses. She tossed one of her own back at him.
“Aye, I agree,” he promised, as undone by her as she was by him. “Miss Grant?”
“Aye, Captain?”
“What is it ya might regret tellin’ me?”
She smiled and blushed, looking in Mr. Pierce’s direction. “It can wait.”
Reluctantly, she left their company and headed back in the direction of the village. She had no intentions of going too far, of course. She wanted to hear what Pierce had to tell him. She didn’t feel bad about eavesdropping. In fact, she wished Kyle were there with her so they could compare opinions.
“What did ya just agree to?” she heard Pierce ask, a trace of humor blending with familiarity in his tone.
“To help her not to disobey me by not giving her any more orders.”
Listening from a nearby stand of dense brush, Trina braced herself for Samuel’s disapproval. She heard him laugh instead.
“Hell, ya’re in trouble.”
“Aye, I guessed that.”
Even if she didn’t know them, Trina would have known that they were longtime friends. There was an ease about the way they spoke together, laughed together. A camaraderie they shared with no one else.
She prayed they were all wrong about Pierce.
“There is something I need to discuss with ya, Alex.” The quartermaster grew serious, coming, Trina suspected, to his point.
“I figured as much when ya left the island,” Alex said softly, flatly. “I’ve been ponderin’ where ya might have been.”
“I was procurin’ fer us a safe passage aboard another ship.”
He was confessing? And so easily? Och, Kyle would be sorry he missed this! She tilted her head and continued to listen.
“Another ship?” Alex asked, sounding surprised by his friend’s reply. “What ship? To go where?”
“To the Bahamas,” Sam told him. His voice sounded urgent, honest. But what did she know? “To speak with a man who believes the map ya possess is a fake. That it was—”
“Captain!” Gustaaf’s voice boomed through Sam’s, “another English ship has arrived on the eastern shore!”
“How many?” She heard Alex call back, already moving.
“One, a schooner,” answered the Dutchman. “Dropped anchor and is still in the water.”
Och, who the hell was it now? Was this his life, always trying to keep ahead of the law? She’d wanted adventure, and hell was she getting it. She thought, while Alex and Sam raced past her on their way to the opposite side of the island, she should stay where she was this time. She didn’t want to, but for him she did it. She would obey him and not fight… at least for now.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alex peered through his spyglass and watched the schooner floating on the black water. He didn’t recognize it.
A ship docked at Parrot Cay was nothing out of the ordinary, but one that anchored at night and on the deserted side of the island meant trouble. The trouble was most likely for him, since Harris had already found them. The navy was on his arse. Alex still wondered how they had found him so quickly. He lowered the spyglass from his eye and cut a brief glace at Sam.
Nay. Harris spoke of someone else when he’d warned Alex of a traitor in his midst. Not Sam. But what of this brother Sam allegedly had? Why the hell did he want him to go to the Bahamas? And what was it he’d said about his map?
Movement on the water drew him back to his spyglass. A smaller boat disengaged from the schooner and set a course for the beach. They paddled slowly, leaving the faintest moonlit trail behind. He watched them come ashore, three men… and a dog. At least, Alex hoped it was a dog and not a lion or a bear. It was difficult to make the beast out in the shimmering pale light. He remembered Caitrina telling him about Sam’s brother getting a pup from Edmund MacGregor last year and this one was certainly as ugly as the ones in Camlochlin.
His heart sank a little, but he refused… he simply refused to believe that Sam would betray him—that he could have been betraying him for the last eight years.
He looked to his left when Kyle appeared at his side behind the dense shrub, silent and breathless.
“Everyone is being alerted,” the Highlander informed him. “Gustaaf and Charlie are getting them ready.”
“Good.”
“D’ye know who they are, Captain?”
“Nay, I don’t.” Alex turned to the man on his right. “Ya?”
Sam shook his head.
“From what I understand,” Kyle continued, “there is just the one ship? A schooner?”
“’Tis all I see out there,” Alex told him and handed Kyle his spyglass. “A faster ship able to cut our time in a little more than half.”
“They are naval, fer certain,” Kyle said, making a closer examination. He remained silent while he studied what he could make out. “I will guess the captain himself is among them…” his words paused while he squinted into the glass.
Sam rose to his feet and walked around Alex’s back.
“Is that a… dog?” Kyle removed the glass from his eye and looked harder at what he was seeing. He turned in Sam’s previous direction, but Alex could tell that he already knew the quartermaster had moved. Kyle wasn’t looking for Sam. He was looking for Alex and met his eye straight on. Something like deep regret passed across his face before he said, “There’s only one Englishman with a dog that ugly.”
“That’s what I told him.” Sam smiled and drew his dagger at the same time. He caught Kyle around the neck and held him still with the tip. “But he swore it came from good stock.”
Alex fought the dizziness spinning his head, the collapse of his bones to the ground. This wasn’t happening. Not right before his eyes. Sam? “Sam?” He shook his head. Nay. He must be dreaming. This couldn’t be his best friend holding a knife to the young MacGregor.
“Captain,” the Highlander said, defying the pressure of Sam’s blade against his throat to keep silent. “’Tis Captain David Pierce who approaches. His brother.”
The dog barked and the sound echoed through the palm trees and through Alex’s soul. “Sam,” he said quietly. “What the hell ar
e ya doin’? Get yar damned dagger away from his throat before I begin to believe all this and strike ya down where ya stand.”
“Alex,” the quartermaster began quickly, desperately. “I wanted to explain earlier. Whatever this looks like—”
“Whatever this looks like?” Alex asked, his laugher sounding shrill and forced. “It looks like ya are about to betray me to yar English brother!”
“I would explain—”
“Do ya mean to defend betrayal, Sam?” Alex’s hard voice cut him off. “Ya above all else know how I feel about it. I would kill ya before I listened to it. Let him go now. He isn’t part of this.”
“First, I would have ya know this one thing,” Sam pressed foolishly.
Alex was no longer listening but turned his attention to the men approaching them, the hound’s bark giving away their position.
The man and his two companions stopped when Alex cocked his flint.
“Don’t!” Sam shouted at him, tightening his grip on Kyle as leverage to keep his brother alive. “Put the pistol down, Alex.” To his brother, he said, “What are ya doin’ here? I thought we were to meet in Guana.”
“I grew impatient.”
“If ya want to live,” Alex warned the captain in a low voice, ignoring Sam and their conversation, “call off yar dogs… both of them.”
“Damn ya, Alex,” Sam pressed on. “Listen to what we say.”
Alex laughed and turned to him, giving Sam’s brother the perfect opportunity to knock the pistol from his hand. The intruder didn’t stop there but struck Alex in the head with the hilt of his sword, rendering him unconscious.
He awoke sometime later aboard the Expedition, in the custody of Captain David Pierce of the damned Royal Navy. It appeared the army captain had transferred.
He was sitting up. He tried to move and discovered that his hands were bound behind him, his ankles, in front. He looked around and guessed, judging by the fine furnishings and spacious quarters, that he was inside the captain’s cabin.
For now, he was the only one there. Had they taken Kyle? Worse, had they taken Caitrina? Anyone else from his crew or family on the island? Despite his throbbing head, he managed to keep Sam’s betrayal fresh in his mind. He had to, else some foolish part of him continue to resist what was right before his eyes. He couldn’t tell himself that it was impossible anymore, because it wasn’t.
The ship was moving. How far had they gone? Were they heading toward the Bahamas? It had been Sam’s plan all along to get him there. He had to get loose. He had to make certain no one else was aboard.
How was he going to get the hell off this boat without killing Sam? He wanted to kill him now. He closed his eyes and ground his jaw. How many times had he and Sam spoken of his father’s crew abandoning their captain? Men were loyal until there was nothing left for their loyalty to gain them. Women were the same. They all sought to elevate their status, whether they were daughters of good men or tavern whores.
He knew all this and yet he’d trusted Sam. This was worse than anything his father’s crew had ever done, worse than what Madalena had done to him by the years the deception spanned alone. Hell, he felt like the most pathetic kind of fool. What a disgustingly trusting, sappy heart he possessed. What kind of crew would want to sail with a captain who couldn’t see danger right before his eyes? For eight damn years! He wasn’t fit to be their captain. Anyone’s captain.
The cabin door opened and Sam entered, his gaze low, his steps reluctant to enter. What had he tried to say earlier? Alex didn’t care. What defense could one have for betrayal?
“How long, Judas?”
Sam stopped in his tracks and looked up, finally meeting Alex’s dark gaze. “From the beginning.”
Almost a decade of deception. Alex closed his eyes. He wanted to be angry, to feel rage, but his wretched heart bled in his chest. He wondered why some souls never experienced this kind of gut-wrenching pain while for others it began with their mothers and continued on with almost every person who meant a damn.
“Why?” he demanded, his anger taking root within some chamber of his heart. He felt it grow and nourished it with memories of counting on Sam in battles and drinking with him after a night of passion with a woman. How clever Sam must have thought himself. How damned clever. “I ask why?”
Samuel looked away again, and ran his palm over his face. “They wanted the Quedagh Merchant, Alex.”
“I know, Sam,” he roared back at him. “They killed me father fer it! Is that why ya betrayed me, ya sorry black-hearted bastard? Fer the ship?”
When Sam didn’t answer, Alex slumped forward in his chair. The treasure they killed his father for… it was the treasure Sam wanted. He felt rage well up behind his eyes and his muscles grow tense. He would kill Sam for this. What pirate worth his weight in salt would blame him? His quartermaster had stabbed him in the back for his treasure. It was so damn hard for him to believe it all. Not Sam. Anyone but Sam.
“Where’s Kyle?” he growled, vowing silently that if they had killed the Highlander, Alex would make Sam watch his brother die.
“He’s unharmed on the other side of the boat.” His old friend walked closer to him. “Alex,” his voice deepened. “I mean to help ya, to save yar life, not hand it over to the authorities. Ya must let me explain.”
“Sam.” Alex lifted his head to him. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain still. “Though ya have deceived me, I’ve always spoken the truth. Have I not?”
Sam nodded.
“Then believe me now when I tell ya that if ya speak another word in yar defense, I will kill ya. I’m fightin’ back the desire to do it now. Ya led the navy to me. Ya—”
“Nay,” Sam argued, “not Captain Harris.”
“Caitrina was correct. ’Twas ya who left the trapdoor in me wall open. Ya were in me cabin before we got there. I didn’t want to believe it. Ya were there with me fer me father, Sam,” Alex reminded him, not giving a damn about Sam’s excuses. “Ya know how I felt about his last days alone. Was it easy for ya to deceive me… to hand me over to me enemies?”
Sam shook his head but Alex didn’t see. He closed his eyes to damn Sam to Hades. He’d been warned. Caitrina and Kyle and even Captain Harris had told him.
“My brother is not yar enemy,” Sam promised. “He knew yar father and Mr. Andersen when—”
Alex was through listening to this scurvy rat dung’s lies. Tilting his chair onto its two front legs, he balanced himself and rose up as far as he could on his feet. His head reached the perfect angle to ram into his opponent’s jaw.
Sam went down like a lightning-blasted tree. Alex stood over him with an option of two ways to inflict the most damage with the chair tied to his back. He hesitated, not wanting to hurt Sam as much as he thought he did.
His thoughts went black an instant later when something smashed into his head from behind.
Chapter Thirty
What do ye mean we shouldna’ go after them? Have ye gone completely daft, Mr. Bonnet?”
Alex’s first mate didn’t bother to look at her when he argued, but turned toward the men instead, infuriating Trina altogether. “I’m just sayin’ that we ought to know which way to go before we set sail, lads.”
“We do know,” Trina insisted. “I already told ye they were heading fer the Bahamas. Hester said they sailed north. What more d’ye want?”
Hester was Anjali’s closest friend. It was she who informed Trina and the others what had happened. A few hours ago, she had gone off alone to visit Anjali when she’d come upon four men carrying away an unconscious two. If not for Hester, the crew might not have known what became of their captain and their mate in time to save them. But they would be saved.
Trina would make certain of it, even if she had to beat Mr. Bonnet senseless while he slept to do it.
“We must go now,” she said, scanning her gaze over all the men. “While there is still time to catch up with them. A schooner will move faster than us. Right now, they hav
e only a three-hour lead. Let’s not give them a wider distance. We—”
“Mr. Bonnet’s correct!” Robbie Owens called out to the others. “We need to move with caution.”
“That’s right!” cried Jack, the master-gunner. “If we go the wrong way it’ll set us back days, may’ap weeks, and ’ho knows what in ’ell will befall the captain by then?”
Trina had to get through to them. She had Gustaaf on her side, willing to go rescue the captain and Kyle. But one man wasn’t enough to man a ship, or to fight if they had to. And Trina was sure they would have to.
She looked up when Charlie entered the hut. The frond and wooden structure was big enough to house the entire village. It was a place of celebration as well as a meeting hall to discuss concerns.
“Any news of Pierce?” she asked the islander.
Sam was also missing. Hester thought she saw him on the beach with the others, as one of the four men walking. When Hester told of a beast of a mongrel dog accompanying the strangers, Trina believed it had to be David Pierce, arrived with one of Grendel and Gaza’s pups.
Gustaaf denounced the notion of Samuel betraying their captain, but Mr. Bonnet claimed to have suspected Pierce of being a spy for years now.
“Nothin’,” Charlie told her. “No one has seen heem.”
Aye, his disappearance that night had diminished Alex’s trust in him.
“Well,” she said, scanning her eyes over them all. “Now we know he stands on the opposing side. If he approaches ye, ye shouldn’t hesitate to kill or maim him.”
“Who said we was goin’ with ya on yar blind voyage?”
“Mr. Bonnet.” She turned and set her gaze on him. “I didna’ know the bunch of ye were cautious, fretful men who doubted what was right there before yer eyes. I thought ye were all more intelligent than that.”
As she anticipated, he squared his shoulders and tilted his chin. “Ya thought correct, lass. I want to go, but what if ’tis the wrong direction? What makes ya so sure they are sailing toward the Bahamas?”
She focused all her attention on his unpatched eye, letting him feel the strength in her voice, the steel conviction of her words. “I heard Samuel Pierce tell the captain that he’d procured safe passage fer them to the Bahamas.”
