Her eyes traveled further down his body. His tunic was ragged, but it fit nicely on his chest. She could see from the low cut of the shirt that he was toned, with some sort of tattoo on his left pectoral muscle. His stomach raised and fell steadily, indicating that his breathing was even. His dark blue breeches covered his long legs, and his tan, leather boots protected his feet. Something bulged from his pocket, and she strained to arch a brow in curiosity at what Charlie managed to take before he escaped from the ship.
“See somethin’ you like, love?” he murmured, slurring his words and groaning painfully.
“Not particularly,” she said with a smile. Her eyes pooled with concern. “Did they hurt you, Charlie?” she asked him quietly.
He let out a groan as he sat up to lean his head on his elbow, looking at her intently. He shook his head.
“I am invincible,” he told her with a wink.
She rolled her eyes and laid her head back down in the sand.
“Can you never be serious?” she asked him, staring up at the green leaves that cascaded above her.
“Are you all right, darling?” he asked her in a low voice. He reached over and curled an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. She felt her heart quicken when his fingertips brushed her cheek.
“See, I am invincible by association,” she said with a smile. She leaned over and pushed herself up into a standing position. “If anything, I desperately need to bathe.”
“I shall go with you,” he said, springing himself up with ease. He caught her suspicious look, and his brow rose at such an insinuation. “We have not yet explored this island. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
“How do you get lost on an island?” Brooke asked curiously.
“Well, then, I don’t want you to get hurt,” Charlie said quickly, lifting his chin up, indicating that the conversation was done and the ruling had been decided. No more arguing.
Brooke narrowed her eyes slightly but then turned in the direction of the entrance to the forest that took up the majority of the island. Charlie walked past her, glancing back at her with his lips pursed, and then turned back around.
The forest was lush and green. Tall trees provided shade and habitat for animals. Colorful flowers bloomed, painting the forest with their petals. Vines and branches obstructed the path that Charlie and Brooke were taking. Usually, Charlie would not see the particular vine or branch and ran into it, injuring himself in some way. Seeing Charlie, Brooke would avoid said vine or branch and remain perfectly fine. Dirt and rocks covered the trail, and at times, they would trip over thick roots that camouflaged with the ground.
“You were a good man once,” Brooke said suddenly as they continued to tread through the greens. “Why are you now a pirate?”
Charlie glanced back and grinned at her. “Good is a matter of perspective, darling,” he told her. “I believe I am a better man now than when I was under the command of Lord Sutherland.”
“Why?” she asked him, wiping stray strands of hair from her face. “Why did you leave his service? I hear you would have been promoted to a lieutenant.”
“I would have, indeed,” he said, nodding.
“Then why did you refuse?” Brooke asked curiously. She had never heard of a man turn down a promotion before.
Charlie stopped suddenly and whirled around on the heel of his boot to face Brooke. His action was so sudden that Brooke nearly ran into him. He peered at her closely, as if trying to decide if he should tell her or not.
“Discrepancies in ethics,” he told her shortly.
“Such as?” she prodded, arching her brow. Charlie decided that he hated when she arched that left brow of hers.
“He wanted me to transport slaves,” he told her.
Brooke’s mouth dropped open in surprise and she looked away. She had heard of people buying and selling slaves, but her parents never believed in a human being as a piece of property, and neither did she. While her household employed many servants, they were not forced to serve her family, and they were paid for their work.
“That is a very noble thing you did,” she told him sincerely, looking back at him.
“And yet I am no noble; I am just a mere pirate,” Charlie said, cocking his head to the side.
“The worst that can happen is that you will be underestimated,” Brooke said shrugging, and then stepped around Charlie to continue walking. “But that can be the best thing as well.” She smiled to herself, as though she had a secret.
Charlie watched her with a grin and then turned around himself, and started to walk.
“How so?” he asked her, catching up with her so their shoulders were brushing.
“If someone underestimates you, then you can’t really disappoint someone, can you?” she asked him, glancing to look at his profile. “See, I know I am smart, but people around me do not. I hold the ace in most situations.
“Now, for you. People will just assume you are a dumb, drunken pirate, searching for treasures and whores.” Charlie opened his mouth to object, but Brooke continued on without seeing him. “But really, you are smart. Do you know what I mean?”
“I see why people underestimate you,” he teased lightly.
Brooke pushed his shoulder but she chuckled nonetheless. It was good to laugh. Hell, it was good to live. In those moments that she thought she was about to die, a list of things she still desired to do flooded her mind. Laughing more was one of them. Charlie seemed to be the right person to provide her with that.
Fifteen minutes later, they found a clear spring with a small meadow and a secluded cave nearby. Charlie decided that he would go explore the cave while Brooke bathed, and after solemnly swearing on his life that he wouldn’t peek, he left. She watched him leave, and once he was out of sight, she slowly began to undress. Her body was colored disproportionally; all skin that made friends with the sun was bronzed while her chest and the lower half of her body was a peachy pale color. She reached up and untied her hair, trying to run her fingers through her knotted hair before stepping into the water. The spring was warm, and a soft sigh escaped her lips as she proceeded to enter it. Soon, she was treading water, feeling the dirt on her dissolve. It felt good to be clean.
Brooke swam for a moment and then sucked in her stomach so she sank deeper in the water, her head getting wet. She hit the surface to catch her breath before she went back underwater. The spring was maybe eight feet deep and she spent fifteen minutes diving into the water and swimming before grabbing air and doing it again. The water was clear; she could see the bottom of the floor, the dark sand, the rocks, the greenery. It was beautiful.
While Brooke was cleansing herself, Charlie walked up the cave and pulled out the map. It was damp so he had to be incredibly delicate, but the ink miraculously didn’t run. He laid it out, placing a very small rock on the edge of the parchment, setting it out in the sun so it would dry but the breeze wouldn’t blow it away. He chewed his bottom lip as he studied the map, trying to memorize where the marked destination was located in case something happened to the parchment. It was an island in the Caribbean, he knew that. And he assumed that due to the formations of the nearby islands, the one he had a particular interest in was adjacent to Cuba. Well, that was no problem. He just needed a ship.
A laugh broke him out of his reverie. He glanced up, and though he promised he wouldn’t look, his eyes found the girl swimming in the water. He couldn’t make out any particular part of her anatomy but he could see her smile from where he was. She looked so calm and so happy that he couldn’t help but smile as well. She was beautiful when she smiled; she was beautiful when she didn’t. But the particular way she was enjoying herself in that moment made him feel something he couldn’t quite explain. He didn’t dwell on it, though, and looked back down at the map, trying to concentrate on the memorization of the map.
An hour later, Brooke headed up to the cave to find Charlie, lying flat on his stomach, looking over the map.
“You kept that thing?” Brooke
asked, walking over to him. She kneeled down so she was lying on her stomach, her shoulder touching his, and she looked down at the map.
“Do I have to explain to you what this is again?” he asked her, glancing to look at her profile. She was staring down at the map intently.
“Well, do you know where this place is?” she asked him, locking eyes with him.
“I know everything, love,” he told her with a wink. She shook her head and said nothing, glancing back down at the map. Charlie bit his bottom lip, his brow pushing together. He knew he had to say something about the mutiny, but he didn’t quite know what. He sighed. “I’m sorry about not trustin’ you, love. I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen.”
Brooke nodded and sat up, crossing her legs. Her eyes had lost the happiness he had seen in them only moments before at the mention of the mutiny. She stretched, arching her back up so it popped. Charlie made no move to sit up next to her; she needed some time and he would give her as much as she needed.
“I miss Heath,” she murmured so quietly that he didn’t quite hear her at first.
Charlie looked up at her. Her arms were wrapped around her drawn-in knees, her cheek resting on her knees. A very small tear fell across her small nose, staining the dirt beside her.
“Me too,” he said softly, pushing himself up to a sitting position.
“I…I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I couldn’t even do anything, it just happened so quickly. And then…” A sob choked her throat, and Charlie scooted over to her and wrapped his arms around her.
Brooke wrapped her arms around him, balling his tunic in her hands as the tears began to fall like raindrops. He rubbed her back with his fingertips, trying to soothe her. He did not say anything to try and comfort her for there was nothing for him to say. Heath wasn’t coming back, and it was his entire fault. His best friend was gone because of his lack of faith in Brooke. He could have prevented the whole thing from ever occurring and he would never forgive himself for that. All he had left was Brooke. She was his one true and loyal companion. He knew he could count on her for anything, and he would never let the same thing that happened to Heath happen to her.
Charlie let Brooke cry on his shoulder for as long as she needed to. It wasn’t long before he could feel her start to calm down a bit, her sobs less ragged, her tears drying up. She was simply resting her head on his chest, her eyes staring out, just thinking about everything and nothing. He rocked her back and forth very slightly, his head resting on the cave wall. She felt so safe in his arms that she did not want to leave him. He was warm and he was the only person Brooke had now. With no knowledge of the survival of her family, and Heath now gone, Charlie was the only person she could trust. And that scared her because if she lost Charlie, she was alone. So she clung onto Charlie, reveling in the support he gave her, finding his chest to be rather comfortable despite being toned. He even smelled rather nice; a mixture of the sea and his own natural scent. She would not let herself lose him, not when they had just found each other.
Her eyes began to feel heavy and her breathing became even. Charlie glanced down and found that she was asleep. Again, she looked so peaceful, so serene. She shouldn’t have seen Heath die like that. Her innocence was vanishing and it had only been a week. He wanted to protect her from the harshness of reality, yet he knew that was not possible. He lifted his hand from her back and lightly caressed her cheek with his thumb. She shifted in her sleep, only pressing further into him, and smiled before going still again. Charlie placed the hand back on her back, smiling as well.
To know what she was thinking, he thought and glanced out at the cave. Darkness would come soon, and while they had not seen any wild animals, he did not want to be caught in the forest if there were any on this island. He knew he had to look for food while it was still light, but he did not want to leave Brooke. She looked so comfortable, and he didn’t want to wake her when she had experienced such an exhausting day. But he knew he had to leave; he just hoped that when he got up, she would not awaken.
Sliding up and gently releasing himself from her grasp, he stood. Brooke recognized that she had been shifted and whimpered, but she did not awaken from her slumber. With one last smile, Charlie left to look for food.
Brooke woke up a few hours later. She blinked her eyes a few times as she yawned, and she sat up. Something was amiss here, she could feel it. Where was Charlie? She turned around anxiously, her eyes going wide, and she pushed on the ground to stand herself up. She glanced around as she did so, nearly losing her balance. Where was Charlie?
“Are you all right, love?” a voice asked from behind her.
Brooke spun around on her heel, turning to find Charlie standing there right behind her, a smirk on his chiseled face, his golden teeth shimmering like the stars.
“I thought something had happened to you,” she said, the worried tone lessening with each word she spoke.
“Worried about little ol’ me?” he chided.
Brooke’s brow furrowed when she noticed his tri-corn hat sitting upon his head. She had thought he had lost it in the water.
“Ah, so you noticed my newly found article of clothing,” he said, glancing up at his hat. “When I went to go looking for food, I saw the waves washed my hat ashore.”
“You were looking for food?” Brooke asked. “Did you find anything?”
“Of course I did,” Charlie said, handing Brooke a cracked coconut.
Brooke took it and put her lips to the small hole that Charlie had created for her. She drank it down greedily, not fully realizing how thirsty she was until the sweet milk hit her lips. Charlie chuckled as he watched her, taking another sip of his.
“I grabbed as many as I could so we can break our fast tomorrow,” he told her, motioning deeper in the cave to a few coconuts.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she placed the coconut shell to the side. She lied on her back, close to the edge of the cave so she could look up at the bright stars against the black sky.
Her eyes skimmed the sky as she let out a content sigh. She seemed to be searching for something, but even she did not know what. She wondered if souls that had perished turned into stars.
“Do you believe in Heaven, Charlie?” she asked him quietly without looking at him.
Charlie looked at the woman and pursed his lips. He pondered the question for a moment, before finally answering honestly.
“I can’t say,” he told her. His brow rose with curiosity. “Do you?”
“I would like to think so,” she murmured. “I would like to think that there is a place for souls to go when they die. I would like to think that…my mother, that Heath…that they are in a better place.” She paused, and then rubbed her lips together before asking, “Do you believe in God?”
“I haven’t decided,” he replied, taking a seat next to her. “It’s a scary thought, though; some Being that’s all-powerful, all-knowledgeable, and all-good is up there, watching us right now as we speak. And no one really knows if He has things all planned out for us, or if He set us off to our own devices. If there’s a fate, then why is belief such an important factor in making it into Heaven when God knows ahead of time whether you’re going to believe in Him or not?”
“I cannot answer that,” she told him quietly.
“Do you believe in God?” he reiterated her question.
“I was raised Catholic,” she answered. “My father stopped taking me to church after my mother died. I think his faith died with her.” She sighed, tilting her head as she recognized her constellation in the sky. “I think I believe in God, though. But maybe fate is like the basic plot of a novel, and as the author, you get to make all the creative decisions.”
“We should get to sleep, darling,” he said, lying down next to her. “We’ve had a long day.”
“Do you think we will be rescued, Charlie?” she asked him as she shut her eyes and rolled on her side so her back was facing him.
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“I guess that’s fate to decide, hmm?” he told her, looking at her back.
She smiled even though he did not see it. “Not unless we choose to rescue ourselves,” she said through a yawn.
Charlie chuckled, and within moments, the two fell asleep underneath the stars.
Brooke awoke to the feeling of being pulled. She yelped when whoever was pulling her drew her up roughly, and her eyes snapped open. A man in a familiar uniform was gripping onto her. Her eyes searched for Charlie, but he was gone. Was he hurt? Did he leave her here to endure this man? She glanced back at the man holding her, now pulling her out of the cave. He was tall, with sandy hair and dark blue eyes. He had hard features, as though he saw too much at a young age. What was happening here? She glanced back in the cave, making sure the map was still there, but it was gone. Did this man take it? Is that why he was here?
Brooke was led through the lush forest of the island and back to the shore where she saw a boat waiting for them. She could make out Charlie sitting there with two other men, and his hands seemed to be bound. A ship was a few yards off, waiting for their return.
“Have you come to rescue us?” she asked her captor as they made their way through the sand.
“Keep your mouth closed,” was his cold reply.
He forced her into the boat and she quickly sat next to Charlie so her shoulder was leaning on his. She looked into his eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Charlie subtly shook his head. Shutting it abruptly, she sighed, and gave him a look. Charlie just looked at her with his deep brown eyes, trying to give her a look of consolation. She chewed her bottom lip, and looked down at his pocket, and then back up at him. He nodded, understanding her concern for the map, but letting her know that it was safely tucked away in his pocket. She nodded as well, and then glanced at the ship. She recognized the East India Company logo rippling from their flag, and also could make out the bolded words on the side of the ship. What she wanted to know was why they were here. Were they rescuing the two of them? If they were, then why were they both being treated so poorly? Why was Charlie tied up and not she? She leaned back against the railing of the boat, folding her hands in her lap, and waited, hoping to receive the answers to her unspoken questions.
To Marry A Marauder Page 10
