“There,” Charlie said, pointing to an absurdly large tree. His brow was filled with sweat, the hot sun still high in the sky, although time was passing. It had to have been nearly four o’clock by Charlie’s knowledge of the placement of the sun in the sky.
Sutherland stopped walking and paused, looking over the tree. Finally, he nodded curtly at Charlie and the two walked over to it. Sutherland’s heart’s pace increased with excitement and he tried to pace himself steadily as they made their way to the tree. When they neared the tree, he pushed Charlie behind him so the taller man blocked Charlie from even looking into the hole. Both men noticed strange markings on the bark of the tree trunk, but neither paid much attention to them.
“Oh my, God,” Charlie heard Sutherland mumble.
So this was it. The trunk was actually in a trunk of a tree.
Sutherland wasn’t sure whether he should take out the trunk or leave it in there. However, if it was filled with treasure, it would be hard to move in the first place. Best to make sure it was filled with the riches they expected before bringing it back to Diablette. He fumbled with the key and missed the lock twice before sliding it in. He listened for the soft clink that would ensure that this key fit with this chest.
And then he heard it.
Charlie heard him chuckle victoriously, and an array of goose bumps sprouted over the pirate captain’s body.
“Blast it!” Sutherland exclaimed.
Charlie tilted his head to the side. Well, that was unexpected….
“Somebody has already been here!” he exclaimed, stepping away from the tree trunk. He seemed to be talking to himself, as though he forgot Charlie was even there.
Seeing this opportunity, Charlie slipped in front of the tree trunk and looked inside. There was an opened envelope and a piece of parchment. Charlie assumed Sutherland had opened it, thinking that it was another clue as to where the treasure might be. He picked up the envelope and looked at it curiously. There was no return address, nor was there a recipient. All that was on the plain, white envelope was a seal of some sort; a lion holding some sort of weapon. Charlie peered closer at it; it was a spear of some sort. Then, Charlie picked up the parchment. There were two rows of correlating numbers. He furrowed his brow at the nonsense of the numbers and then turned the parchment over.
And even thence thou wilt be stol’n, I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
The numbers, as well as the message, were both hand-written. Both the parchment and the envelope were tainted with age, yellowing at the edge. They both had to have been in the trunk for an incredibly long time. Charlie’s furrowed brow deepened. While the message did not make sense to him at all, he did not believe the treasure was already taken, as Sutherland thought. These words were too precise, the envelope too plain. Charlie believed that both parchments were, indeed, other clues to where the treasure was. He knew he couldn’t stay there, studying them forever; he had to get to Brooke and he had to leave this island, escaping both Diablette and Sutherland. He slipped both pieces of evidence in his breeches’ pocket and turned around smoothly. Instead of seeing Sutherland’s form, however, he was met with nothingness. Charlie’s mouth dropped with surprise, not quite sure what to do. He was left alone. Maybe with this news, he and Diablette and her bloody crew had left. Even so, he had to get to Brooke, to get her back on his ship, and to dress her wounds.
Charlie breathed deeply for a quick moment, and then took off, retracing his steps back to the sea of green. He could see that no one was in sight, which only increased his worry. When he saw Brooke’s crumpled silhouette, a smile broke out on his face, and he thanked whoever was watching over him. For whatever reason, Diablette and her crew of miscreants had disappeared, along with Sutherland. He didn’t want to analyze why they had disappeared at that time; he had to get Brooke off the island, but even then, he couldn’t keep her at sea in her condition. An idea popped into his head; he knew where he could take her. And once they were at sea, he would inform Kenneth of their new heading.
14
When Charlie got back to the shore with Brooke in his arms, his dark eyes scanned the horizon. He saw his ship was exactly where he had left it, rolling along with the soft waves. However, he saw Diablette’s ship rocking a few feet away from his. What unnerved him the most was the fact that the rowboats were exactly as they had left them, which meant Sutherland, Diablette, and her crew were still on the island. Why would they disappear and leave him and Brooke alive? He shook his head of all thoughts, and eased himself into the boat, sitting Brooke on his lap so that her head hit his chest. His hands grabbed the oars, and slowly, he began to row toward his ship. It was rather difficult with all of Brooke’s weight leaning on him, but he managed to make it to his ship.
Now, Charlie had to think about what to do next. Brooke was still unconscious so there was no way she would be lifting herself up to the ship. An idea popped into his head, but unless he had balance that challenged a pussycat’s, very bad things would result. He pressed his lips together and breathed deeply before he stood up. He paused, making sure the boat held his weight. And now for the tricky part…. Slowly, he knelt down and scooped Brooke into his arms, carefully hoisting her over his shoulder so that her weight balanced on him. The boat rocked as he slowly stood, but managed to stay afloat. He reached up, grabbing the side rope, and pulled himself up, along with Brooke. His teeth were grinding together, and he let out a grunt. His arm muscles cried with pain, and his boots scraped the side of the boat as he kept both of them up.
“Ay!” he cried out, almost painfully. “Ay, you scallywags! Get over here!”
Murmuring neared the side of the ship before three heads popped over. Their eyes widened when they saw Charlie holding the unconscious woman over his shoulder. The man in the middle reached over while the two on his sides held him in place. The man slipped his hands underneath Brooke’s underarms and pulled her up. He let out a grunt at lifting the woman’s dead weight, but after a few moments managed to pull her up, over the side of the ship and onboard. Charlie was close behind and took Brooke back in his arms.
“I need a doctor right now,” he told the men breathlessly. “Have him come to my quarters this instant!”
The three men disappeared as Charlie brought Brooke in his quarters. He gently placed her on the bed, making sure her head was comfortably resting on the pillow. His eyes scanned over her, and he visibly glared when he noticed the corset still wrapped around her chest. He couldn’t flip her over and untie her, so he reached in his belt, grabbed his small dagger, and sliced the corset right down the middle. Immediately, he could feel her breathing increase deeply, and her face relaxed a bit. His eyes went back to scanning her; there were bruises, matted blood spilling from cuts, and other such injuries. Nothing seemed life-threatening, but goodness, it seemed painful. Charlie’s eyes narrowed as his anger began to rise once again, just looking at Brooke. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her, and here she was, barely escaping death. The pirate captain was incredibly furious with Diablette, Sutherland, and whoever physically harmed her, but if he was being completely honest, he was upset with himself as well.
A knock at his door caused his thoughts to go swimming away, and he turned to the door. That had to be his ship’s physician.
“Yeah, come in,” he called helplessly. Charlie looked back at Brooke sadly. While he knew how to dress a wound, he thought his physician would do a better job than he did.
The door opened, and Charlie turned to look at his physician thoroughly for the first time. The doctor was taller than him by a few inches. He was older by five years maybe, with dusty brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was slim and fit, dressed in rather nice clothing despite being found in Torro. In his hands were bandages and a couple of towels, while Kenneth, who trailed in behind him, carried rum and water. The two set the medical materials down, and the doctor took a seat on the side of the bed, examining Brooke.
Charlie nodded at Hugh, who nodded back. Charlie could not speak; his eyes kept going over to Brooke.
“Listen, Charlie, maybe you should step outside, eh?” Kenneth suggested as gently as possible.
Charlie shook his head stoically, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting in a chair.
“I’m staying right here,” he said softly, but his eyes glanced up at Kenneth. “Sail to New Providence. That’s our heading.”
Kenneth hesitated before leaving but nodded finally and quietly left Charlie’s quarters.
Charlie turned his attention back to Hugh, who was currently disposing of Brooke’s undergarment. Charlie bit his lip to keep from telling Hugh to stop; he knew the doctor had to dress each one of Brooke’s wounds, and that she was wounded well below the neckline of her dress. Charlie looked away, however, not wanting to take advantage of Brooke’s vulnerability. If he was going to see these particular parts of hers, he would wait until she was awake, sober, and consenting.
Hugh, the physician, had never seen someone beaten so badly. His eyes swept over her bare body with sympathy as he began to clean her wounds. He couldn’t see any cuts that were in need of disinfecting with rum so far, and hoped that it would remain that way. He turned her over slightly, and quickly cleaned and dressed those wounds, before wrapping a final bandage over most of her torso. He moved down to her legs, but there seemed to only be bruises and very minimal cuts there, as with her face. When he finished, he turned to his new pirate captain, only to find him with his back toward the two. He smiled at the chivalry Charlie was displaying, and cleared his throat, an indication to let Charlie know it was safe to look.
“Do you have any clothes she could wear temporarily?” he asked Charlie.
“Yes, of course,” Charlie said, going over to the trunks of clothing that rested at the foot of the bed he had so recently replaced with his own. He grabbed a silky green tunic and the smallest breeches he had, and he handed them to Hugh before sitting back in his seat and averting his eyes once again.
Hugh took the clothes and dressed Brooke as gently as he could. When he finished, he pressed his ear to Brooke’s chest for one last quick check, before standing up and walking over to Charlie. Charlie, looking up at Hugh upon hearing him stand, quickly stumbled up to meet him.
“Well?” he asked, glancing over at Brooke. “How is she?”
“She’s still unconscious, but her breathing is stable,” Hugh said as he collected his materials. “In a way, this is a good thing because she can’t feel the pain.” He looked over at Brooke for a moment before looking back at Charlie. “That’s not to say that when she wakes up, she won’t feel pain; she will. The best thing she needs right now is rest and lots of it. In fact, being on a ship isn’t the best thing for her.”
“I know,” Charlie said quietly, shutting his eyes and biting his bottom lip. “I know a place in New Providence where she can rest as long as she needs to.” He paused, taking another look at Brooke. “What should I do now?”
Hugh paused, thinking about his words before actually speaking.
“Stay with her,” he told the pirate captain sincerely. “When she wakes, she’ll need a familiar face to reassure her that she’s not in any danger. If she’s hungry, feed her. If she’s thirsty, get her something to drink. Make sure she’s comfortable, but realize that no matter what, she will be in pain. Make sure that she’s relaxed, and most importantly, make sure she’s resting. Any strenuous activity, even if it’s getting up and walking around, may hurt her if she does it before she’s ready.” He paused once again before finishing. “And support her.”
Charlie nodded curtly and looked back up at Hugh.
“Thank you, mate,” he said. He walked Hugh to the door but before the doctor opened it, asked one last question. “So she’ll be okay?”
“She’ll be in pain, but she will be okay,” Hugh assured him. With that, he left.
Charlie looked back down at Brooke. How could he let her get harmed to this extent? His eyes traveled up and down her body, wincing when he saw certain bruises or cuts. A couple of the cuts were already lightly staining the pure white bandage that prevented them from bleeding out. Charlie reached out to touch her, to feel her, but was afraid that any unnatural amount of pressure on her might cause her pain. He hesitated before finally curling an errant strand of her hair away from her face, placing it securely behind her ear. She did not move, save for her steady breathing. She looked somewhat peaceful, while at other times, her face contorted into a response to the pain.
He stood, deciding to get ready for bed. Kenneth was at the helm, guiding them to where they needed to get to. He prayed that the winds would be in their favor, and they would arrive in New Providence in five days’ time. Charlie walked over to his desk, and unhooked his belt, placing it down on the flat surface. He reached into his pockets, pulling out two pieces of parchment, an envelope, and an emerald necklace. He placed the paper in the top drawer, but held the necklace in his palm, staring at it for a moment. The flickering of the candle caused it to reflect different shades of green, depending on how the light hit it.
Like her eyes, he thought to himself with a sad smile.
How long ago was it when he had crawled into her bedroom window? She had challenged him even then, upon their first meeting. He wasn’t sure what to be more baffled about; the fact that she did not alert anyone upon seeing him, or the fact that she was not afraid of him. And then she pointed out exactly where her jewels were to him. Charlie did not know why he swiped this particular jewel from her, out of all the ones she had. Maybe it was the fact that she had revealed the emeralds were most precious to her. Yet, she had also spoken of the rubies. Why not take one of them? The color reminded him of the ocean, and the ocean, in turn, reminded him of her eyes. And why the heart? Why not something smaller? That, he could not say. He sighed, and placed the necklace securely in the bottom drawer before standing up.
Charlie slid his tunic off, and let it crumple soundlessly to the floor, and then sat down to remove his boots. He stifled a yawn as he stretched, and then turned back to the desk to blow out the candle. By the light of the full moon seeping in, he made his way to the large bed. Luckily enough, he had placed her on one side of the bed, so he walked around to the other side, and very cautiously, slid in the bed. He shifted a couple of times, getting comfortable, and pulled the covers over him. Charlie sighed in contentment and glanced over at Brooke. He could make out her soft features, even in the moonlight. God, she was still beautiful, despite her battered state. A strong feeling came over him, and before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned over to the sleeping woman, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. His eyes widened in surprise when his lips touched her skin, and he pulled back, watching her reaction. He was not going to deny the warm feeling the chaste kiss gave him, but he didn’t fully understand it.
In her sleep, Brooke smiled softly, and Charlie’s heartbeat quickened, and he, too, could not keep a smile off of his face as he slowly fell asleep.
She had never been as well-rested as she was in that moment. She felt herself smiling as she shifted her head deeper in her comfortable pillow. Her nose scrunched; the pillow texture was not exactly as soft as she had remembered. It was warm, and her head fit perfectly on it, but she did not feel the cloth, the fluffiness, the…
Brooke blinked a couple of times, adjusting her eyes to the darkness. It was then that she realized she was not sleeping on a pillow, but rather a shoulder, and a comfortable one at that. The pain was a sudden rush as it hit her, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. Memories flooded back to her; was she still on Diablette’s wretched ship? What of Charlie and his crew? Were they safe? Did they find the treasure? Was there a treasure? Moving her head as little as possible, she arched her neck up to see who she was sleeping with.
It was him. She smiled with relief. It was Charlie.
&n
bsp; His profile was sharp and angled, and his brow was relaxed. The dimpled nostrils attached to his long, pointed nose flared as he inhaled, and she felt his chest move up and down; up as his nose flared, down as he exhaled. His lips were pursed together, and the pale moonlight cascaded on his cheekbones, making them look sharper than they already did. His shaggy, dark hair fell into his face, and his facial hair was slightly unkempt, and yet it made him look incredibly rugged. Charlie Colt was incredibly handsome, there was no denying that. It was then that Brooke fully realized that Charlie’s torso was bare, completely and utterly bare. Her eyes widened, and she felt her face heat up. She had never been this close to a bare-torso man. In fact, she had never been this close to any other man before Charlie.
“Go to sleep, love.”
His voice her made her feel like a child getting caught doing something wrong. It was slurred and very inarticulate, but she understood what he was saying.
“I’m right here,” he continued. “You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”
There was no teasing joke about whether she saw something she liked or not. His voice was low, tired, and serious. She yawned, and refitted her head back into the crevice of his shoulder. Her breathing became steady once again; she enjoyed how comfortable she was with Charlie, and that feeling relaxed her like nothing before.
It didn’t take her long to fall back asleep.
Sunlight seeped through the lone window in the captain’s quarters and in the crevice between Brooke’s nearly-shut eyelids. She closed her eyes once again, sighing in discontent. She lay still for a moment, trying to go back to sleep, and pulled the covers over her head. A shot of pain caused her to yelp in surprise, which caused any hope of going back to sleep to disintegrate. She placed her head back down on the pillow, and stared up at the ceiling, tracing a pattern on her right hand with her left forefinger.
To Marry A Marauder Page 21
