Heart's Ransom
Page 42
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“He is sending us away.”
Claudio’s hushed voice fell almost directly against Kitty’s ear as the older man leaned across the bed, just before taking his leave.
“He thinks he is ruined now. He means to risk it all, to stand alone against your father―and your father will see him dead for it, child,” Claudio whispered. “There is no one left to reason with him, none to protect him but you.”
She listened to his footsteps as he walked away, and heard the door shut quietly in his wake. She sat against the bed, with the coverlets drawn up in her hand to cover herself, and listened for any sounds from Rafe. He was quiet; he had moved toward the stern windows and remained there in silence. She had not understood the conversation he had just held with Claudio, but it had ended sharply, that much she knew.
“What are you doing, Rafe?” she whispered.
“I am standing at the windows,” he replied, his tone flat and distracted. Whatever had troubled Claudio then, whatever had infused such despair in his voice had affected Rafe as well, then.
“No, I mean, what are you doing?” Kitty said, easing her feet to the floor and standing. She drew the blankets about herself and followed the direction of his voice. “Claudio said you are sending them away? Who?”
“The crew,” Rafe said. “I am sending the crew south aboard La Venganza. I am having them furl all of our sails, and bring El Verdad dead in the water.”
“Why?” she asked, even though she knew.
“So that your father will come after me,” Rafe said. “And leave my crew alone.”
Kitty shook her head, stepping toward him, holding out her hand until she brushed against his shoulder. “Rafe, go with them,” she said. “My father is on his way. Leave me alone on the ship. He will find me and I will tell him what happened. I will tell him the truth―that you have saved me. He will not follow you then. He will leave you alone. He…”
Rafe turned, pressing his hand against her face. “I cannot, Kitty,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her gently.
She felt her heart tremble with sudden dismay. Either he did not understand what he was risking by remaining aboard with her, or he did not care, and it frightened her no matter which. “Rafe, if my father finds you, he…he…”
“He will kill me, I know,” Rafe said. “Or deliver me to London to stand trial for piracy. It is alright.”
She blinked at his words, stricken and shocked. “It is not alright,” she said. “They hang pirates in London, Rafe―from the Tyburn tree. I do not know if I can stop him, reason with him, not with you standing there in front of him and on hand, but if you are gone―if you go with Claudio and the crew on La Venganza, he will listen to me. I know he will.” She clutched at his sleeve, pleading. “I know he will.”
“Kitty, I must answer for what I have done,” Rafe said quietly. “I cannot run, not from this. I chose it freely. Cristobal did not force me to it. Now it is over. It is finished and done, and all I have left is to answer for it.”
That is not all you have left! she wanted to cry at him. You have your life―and as long as you have that, I have hope, Rafe! Hope to be with you!
“Why?” she asked. She knew why he was doing this; Claudio had fairly well told her, but the realization of it shocked and angered her. Rafe tried to walk past her, and she frowned, reaching after him, grasping his sleeve again. “Why, Rafe?” she said again, more sharply this time. “Because of your hand? Claudio told me you think you are ruined―is that because of your hand?”
“Kitty, you do not understand―” he began, and the furrow between her brows deepened.
“I understand perfectly, Rafe,” she said. “I understand that when you told me it was brave of me not to grow bitter or angry for my handicap, like Cristobal―to find a new place in the world in spite of my blindness―that you offered nothing but hollow words and false sentiments.”
“Kitty…” he said, sounding wounded. She felt his fingers brush her cheek and she swatted his hand away, angry now.
“Was it easier for you to fake sympathy for the maimed when you were not faced with such a prospect yourself, Rafe? Tell me, would you rather meet the gallows than try to figure out how to make your way in the world with only your left hand to guide you?”
“My hands were my life’s work!” he cried at her, his voice ragged and pained. “Both of them―they were more than limbs, more than conveniences, Kitty! I am a physician. My life is built around the abilities and functions of my hands. Without them, I am nothing! I…I am…”
“What?” Kitty challenged, balling her hands into fists. “Say it, Rafe! Say it―you are ruined! You are as good as blind, and no better off than I am! Say it!” She swung at him furiously, striking him, making him stumble back from her. “You are more to me than your hands, Rafe! My God, I would gladly surrender even the chance to see again if it would mean staying with you. After everything that has happened, you still do not know that? You cannot see how much I love you?”
She had never said it aloud before, not to him, and at this blunt and earnest admittance, he fell still. “You truly are as good as blind, Rafe,” she said, her voice strained with sudden tears. Her blankets had fallen to the floor, and she realized she stood before him, naked and a fool. She gasped softly, struggling not to weep as she crouched, her hands outstretched, fumbling for the fallen sheets. “Go on, then,” she told him. “Face my father. Swing from the gallows, Rafe. May God help your crippled heart, and never mind your hand.”