Sea of Ruin

by Pam Godwin

  As my captor shoved me forward along the beach, I watched pirates come and go on longboats between the warship and the shore. They were plundering the inhabitants of their liquor, whale oil, and as much livestock as could be carried away, no doubt crowding the warship’s decks with live chickens, pigs, goats, sheep—the makings of a feast.

  Ashley and I were ushered into one of the humble, single-room dwellings. Upon entering, the air went taut, stifling in the humidity.

  At least a dozen pirates had already made themselves at home, lounging on the beds, sitting around the dinner table, and sprawled on the modest furnishings.

  A crawling sensation rippled across my skin and burrowed into my stomach.

  Were any of these men Ashley’s soldiers? Where was Madwulf? On the ship? In one of the neighboring cottages? Perhaps he was out back, violating the women who lived here?

  I shared a look with Ashley and knew he had the same dark thoughts.

  “She lives?” One of the pirates jumped up.

  “And the commodore.” Another spat through the gaps in his teeth.

  Laughter and malicious cheer pressed against my bones, stretching my raw nerves.

  Before the day ended, I would serve as entertainment for these bawdy rakes. They were all thinking it. And during the impending debauchery, Ashley would be forced to watch, tortured, and gutted, in no particular order.

  I needed my voice, but they gave no indication that our gags would be removed.

  We were led to a beam in the center of the cottage. Rope replaced the bindings on our wrists, and we were positioned on the floor, shoulder to shoulder with our hands tied to the post.

  The impulse to rest my head on Ashley’s arm rode me hard, but I remained stiff and obtuse, giving nothing away. They didn’t need to know I loved the commodore. They certainly didn’t need to know I would die for him.

  Thankfully, he followed my lead and didn’t drift closer or cast affection in my direction. For all they knew, he still wanted to deliver me to England to be hanged.

  “Where’s the captain?” someone asked.

  “Heading this way now.” A skinny, awkward, loose-jointed fellow leaned in the doorway, picking his teeth with a blade. “Captain! Come see what we got!”

  Outside, two voices approached the cottage. One was too soft to hear clearly, but the other drawled in a brogue that hailed from Scotland. As the inflection hit my ears, my entire body shook with fear.

  “I dinna ken anything about that,” Madwulf snarled. “I was told the admiral hanged her from the yard-arm. She’s dead.”

  Who was he talking to? I leaned forward, heart pounding, hoping, pleading…

  “She was spotted on the upper deck of the flagship while you were blowing her rigging to bits against my will!” That voice. The rage. His vicious, gravelly Welsh accent.

  My breath left my lips on the wings of salvation.

  Priest was here.

  The booming pulsation in my head consumed the sound of Priest’s unforgettable accent. I pressed my lips together and silenced my gasps, straining to hear him.

  Beside me, Ashley went inhumanly still as if his entire being was focused on the conversation beyond the door.

  “Who spotted her?” Madwulf’s Scottish brogue thickened.

  “One of Cutler’s soldiers. Why am I just learning this?” Fury roughened Priest’s voice, every syllable boiling with vehemence. “Mark me, Madwulf. If she’s dead because of your actions, I’ll need something to stab repeatedly, and your face will become my favorite target.”

  “Uh, Captain MacNally…” The duke of limbs in the doorway held up a loose-jointed finger.

  “I dinna understand the problem,” Madwulf said, ignoring his crewmate. “You told me you wanted her dead.”

  “I wanted to kill her myself!” Priest roared. “Me! No one else. That was the agreement.”

  Agreement? My mind spun, trying to fit the pieces together. How did Priest get here? Had he arrived with Madwulf? Did that mean he was on HMS Blitz when it fired on the flagship?

  All at once, everything clicked.

  Priest must have sneaked onto HMS Blitz while Ashley anchored in Nassau to search the brothel. Ashley was there for two weeks, so I couldn’t be sure about the timing. Evidence suggested that Priest freed Madwulf from the hold after Ashley sailed back to the admiral. Because the pirates overtook HMS Blitz while Ashley was with me on the admiral’s flagship.

  Apparently, no one had told Priest I was alive and imprisoned on the admiral’s flagship. The omission was deliberate, to be certain, for it would’ve been in Madwulf’s interest to sink the flagship without Priest stopping him to look for me.

  My ears thudded wildly with the drum of my overtaxed pulse. I’d been so heartsore over Priest’s perfidy, but that was nothing compared to what he must have felt when they told him I was dead. After he’d already freed them.

  Madwulf wanted Ashley’s ship. Priest wanted me. They’d lied to each other to protect their agendas, and here we were, teetering on the cusp of full disclosure. I felt the impending bloodshed in my bones.

  “What’s done is done,” Madwulf growled. “Dinna threaten me again, Priest.”

  “Actually, Captain…” The lanky, ill-made fellow in the doorway interrupted again. “She’s here. Look.” He motioned inside the cottage.

  The sound of footsteps exploded into a flurry outside. A second later, several men burst in, but my world narrowed to one.

  Priest’s silver eyes shot straight to mine, his expression awash with everything I felt—shock, confusion, relief, and savage determination.

  As his gaze frantically swept over me, hunting for injuries, I gave him the same inspection.

  He wore a baldric of blades and pistols over his shoulder. A cutlass hung from straps of leather around his waist. My father’s black jackboots covered his feet, and leather braces adorned his forearms. My examination traveled over the snug brown breeches and loose black shirt before landing on the compass.

  My compass.

  Wedged beneath his waistband and secured to his many belts, it was a glorious shock to the heart. I thought I’d never see it again, yet there it was. Safe. Whole. Precious. Impossible to replace. Just like my husband.

  He hadn’t moved from the doorway, his rugged physique so stiff and hard it was as if the sight of me had turned him to stone.

  His intense gaze held mine. His breaths came faster, and in that sublime moment of eye contact, everything felt right in the world. With Ashley at my side and Priest armed to the teeth, I knew we would survive this. All three of us.

  But those thoughts evaporated the instant Priest turned his attention on Ashley.

  Priest’s countenance clouded, his entire demeanor taking on that of a stranger. He seemed taller somehow, broader, his shoulders rolling back into a fighting stance. Why? Did he recognize Ashley as the pirate hunter who had taken me into custody? He couldn’t have known about my intimate relationship with Ashley.

  The creases about his mouth and brow confessed nothing. Was it anger? Suspicion? Resentment? He normally expressed his feelings so clearly on his face, but this wasn’t anything I could interpret.

  He’s not who you think he is.

  Thank you, Ashley, for planting that seed of doubt. Now I wondered if they knew each other.

  Ashley was probably spinning on his carefully controlled axis, wondering why the Feral Priest was hunting me.

  What a monumental disaster.

  Movement pulled my attention to the man beside Priest, and I shuddered.

  Captain Madwulf MacNally stood with his boots braced shoulder-width apart, his hands clasped behind him, and his eyes ticking between Priest and Ashley. Intelligence fired in those eyes, and that scared me more than the brace of weapons he wore across his chest.

  It didn’t matter how much help he’d received in his escape from the hold. The fact was he’d managed it. He’d broken out, seized command of a Royal Navy ship of the line, and sank HMS Ludwig with both th
e admiral and the commodore on board.

  This wasn’t a man I wanted as an enemy, but I’d foolishly cemented that given how my hands were bound, my mouth was gagged, and he was staring at me with a look one would give a smear of manure on the bottom of a boot.

  I annoyed him. It must have been the beard incident. Evidently, he still blamed me for that unfortunate show of disrespect. If I had my voice, I would explain to him that I wasn’t his enemy, and I wouldn’t interfere in his plans to raise hell on the high seas with Blitz. I couldn’t, however, speak for the man beside me. Ashley wanted his ship back.

  Perhaps it was for the best that my stoically simmering commodore was gagged.

  “Do you ken this officer?” Madwulf thrust his chin at Ashley, his question directed at Priest.

  “I know he’s the reason I lost her trail a month ago.” Priest prowled toward me, but his glare was all for Ashley. “I was so close to catching her. So. Damned. Close. I daresay I wasn’t keen to learn that the Royal Navy had plucked her right out of my reach.”

  Ashley glared at him, emotionless. Utterly unmoved. Meanwhile, my vital organs worked themselves into a frenzy.

  Whatever game Priest was playing, I would go along with it. I trusted him with my life. It was Ashley’s odds of survival that shook me to the core. Priest wouldn’t protect him. If Priest discovered our relationship, he would gut Ashley himself.

  “Let’s hear the story, Priest.” Madwulf walked a circuit around us, watching, analyzing. “What did this puny bit of skirt do to drive you to the extremes of a murderous desperado?”

  “She killed my father.”

  Well, that much was true. Priest would’ve done the deed himself. I’d just happened to thrust the blade first.

  Madwulf narrowed his eyes, pouted his lips, and gave a sharp nod. Kin was invaluable to the Highlanders. It was a Scotsman’s duty, a war cry in his blood, to avenge fallen family members.

  Priest knew that as he stood over my outstretched legs and leaned down. With a hacking sound, he expelled a wad of spit onto the floorboard between my thighs, missing the hem of the shirt by a hairsbreadth. Then he backhanded my face for good measure.

  Despite the ringing in my ears, I had to give him some merit. His stellar performance sent the room into cheerful approval.

  Beside me, Ashley didn’t move. He’d been under the impression that I’d spent one night with Priest Farrell two years ago and hadn’t seen the libertine since. Hopefully, we would live long enough for me to explain.

  With any luck, the audience of ten or so armed pirates would move out soon and finish plundering the island. Priest could overpower and kill a few men by himself. But not this many.

  Madwulf knew this, and it was unlikely that he would give Priest any advantage. Based on my last encounter with the Scotsman, he probably wouldn’t leave without taking a bit of revenge for himself. I’d embarrassed him in front of his men. He might seem amicable now, but he was only biding his time before he made me pay.

  “She looks like an emaciated whore.” Priest strode away.

  I snarled behind the gag, playing along.

  “What are you doing?” Madwulf tilted his head, tracking Priest’s movements near the table.

  “Feeding the bitch.” He returned with an earthen jug and bowl. “I didn’t come all this way to punish a corpse.”

  He crouched beside me and set the stoneware on the floor. His hand went to the back of my head, his fingers instantly finding the contusion there.

  I stifled a whimper, but he sensed it, his expression losing its savage depiction in favor of genuine concern. My pulse ramped, for I knew Madwulf was watching every interaction with suspicion.

  Priest quickly blanked his face, but his tender touch remained, his fingers circling the circumference of the swollen knot, inspecting the condition of it. Then he removed the gag.

  I stretched my jaw as a million questions and declarations rose in my throat. I knew better than to blurt any of it. One wrong word could expose Priest’s sham, cost him his life, or at the very least, my mouth would irritate Madwulf enough to gag me again.

  So I shoved down everything I wanted to say and opted for something mundane. “How did you find me?”

  Priest sat beside my hip and held the jug to my lips. Warm milk washed over my tongue, which I readily drank. Then he offered me boiled rice with his fingers. I choked down the mush, wishing he would give Ashley the same nourishment. He wouldn’t, and I couldn’t ask.

  “Your crew happily directed me to HMS Blitz.” Priest’s mouth curled into a devilishly alluring smile.

  There was another smile hidden within it. A private one just for me. He knew my crew released him from the hold and told him exactly where I was, on account of my orders.

  I ached to tell him I forgave him, that no matter what happened, I loved him and needed him and missed him. God almighty, I missed him.

  Instead, I had to feign disinterest and disgust. I was never good at dissimulating. But that would need to change, for Madwulf sprawled in a nearby chair, watching and listening with rapt attention.

  Priest launched into a narration of his activities over the past month, confirming everything I’d already assumed. He’d followed HMS Blitz to New Providence on a stolen sloop. During the night, he clambered up the side and jumped aboard. Quickly and silently, he made his way to the hold, assuming I was imprisoned there, only to find Madwulf and his unkempt band of ruffians. When Priest was unable to locate me anywhere on Ashley’s ship, he struck an agreement with Madwulf through the iron bars.

  Priest promised to free them and help them overtake HMS Blitz. In exchange, they would assist Priest in hunting me—with a strong emphasis on Priest being the only one who would kill me.

  During his dialogue, I listened for hints about the status of my ship and crew. Had Reynolds followed my orders and sailed to Harbour Island? Were they there now? Less than two-hundred kilometers away by land? That was only two days’ travel by horseback, and there were plenty of horses in the nearby pastures.

  Unfortunately, Priest and I couldn’t discuss any of this in present company.

  “I didn’t know Madwulf intended to sink the flagship.” Priest clenched his jaw, twisting to glower at the Highlander. “I wanted to search it first and look for proof of her death.”

  “You had no chance in hell of sneaking aboard that vessel, and you ken it,” Madwulf said.

  “I waited to free you until HMS Blitz returned to the flagship. Why do you think that was?”

  Madwulf reclined in the chair, arms crossed. “I presumed you were just being a vexing cunt.”

  “While your pack of rogues was storming the gundecks, seizing the arms, and killing every Englishman who withstood you, I was going to use that distraction to steal aboard the admiral’s flagship. That was my plan until you started blowing the tarnal thing to splinters!” Priest’s pretense slipped beneath his rising fury. “You told me she was hanged.”

  “I dinna see why—”

  “You knew she was there.” Priest shot to his feet, nostrils flaring and neck corded. “You knew she was alive when you destroyed that ship!”

  I agreed that Madwulf was lying, but the past was in the past. We needed to secure our future, and that wouldn’t happen if Priest continued down this path.

  “Madwulf.” I waited for his gaze. “I’m not your enemy. I’m a pirate captain, same as you.”

  His hand went to the short red hairs on his chin, his fingers grasping at a phantom beard. “There’s nothing personal between you and me, lass. But after the disrespect your lover gave me, the lads and I will be wetting our cocks between your bonny thighs.”

  Ashley made a pained sound, radiating tension beside me.

  My insides shriveled, and my face went cold, bloodless.

  “Lover?” Priest glared at me, his eyes swirling with dark, twisted threats.

  Madwulf’s attention stayed on Ashley, his tone goading. “She took up with Lord Cutler in his cabin for nigh two weeks.
His men—who are now my men—claim the two of them fucked like rabbits.”

  My heart hammered so hard I saw black spots.

  Priest’s head snapped toward Ashley, his ruse of revenge morphing into blatant jealousy. I’d seen him castrate men for touching me without my permission. He would have no qualms about killing Ashley first and asking questions later.

  Except he didn’t go for any of the weapons on his person. His hands didn’t even twitch for them. If he had, one of these pirates would’ve ran a blade through him. There would be a vote on who got the privilege of murdering the commodore.

  Even so, Priest never exercised self-control in these situations. How was he reining in his jealous, impulsive reactions now? I didn’t know what it was, but something about this niggled.

  I needed to send a message to him without Madwulf suspecting our relationship. I had to get through to my husband the same way he’d tried to get through to me a month ago.

  My mind sprinted through every argument Priest and I had exchanged about his adulterous relationship. I’d asked him why he protected his lover and remembered his response.

  “Yes, he’s my lover.” My voice drew his eyes to mine. Then I threw his words back at him. “I protect what I love. Simple as that.”

  We stared at each other, entangled, inseparable. I watched him recall our conversation and slowly process what I hadn’t said aloud.

  I love Ashley Cutler. Killing him would be the same as me killing your lover.

  Comprehension flashed across his face, there and gone in a blink.

  Message received.

  He stood and paced toward the table, running a hand down his face, hiding his expression.

  Ashley sat stiffly beside me, eyes straight ahead and lips clamped around the gag. I couldn’t imagine the state of confusion he was drowning in right now. He didn’t have a clue about my history with Priest. Christ, he didn’t even know we were married. No one in this room knew.

  With our hands bound to the beam at our backs, he stretched out a finger and hooked it around mine. The gesture meant more in that moment than anything else. We were a unified front. We’d get through this.