“He is not guilty of Johnny’s death, Father. Please, you must not kill his son.”
A spark of hope flared within Kent. Hann’s violet gaze swept over his and then to Isabel, who returned her glance with a weak smile.
“Is that so? And how did you come by this conclusion?” Morris crossed his arms over his portly belly.
Hann swallowed and let out a deep sign. She opened her mouth to answer when Morris leaned toward her with a scowl. “By the way, where is your husband? Or should I say what have you done with him?”
“He is dead.” Hann gave Morris a wary look. “Not by my hand, father. I heard he fell sick and died shortly after I left him.”
“Hmm.” Morris studied her as a wheezing cough sounded from behind Hann.
Cutter lurched forward, nearly plowing into the pirate’s sword pointed at his chest. Confusion marred his features. Hann stole a glance his way then turned toward Sawkins. “Order your men to stand down.”
“I will not,” he replied with an insolent quiver, then faced Morris. “Captain, I must protest. The ship is mine. Can you not conduct your business aboard your own vessel so I may be on my way?”
In a flash, Morris drew his pistol and aimed it at Sawkins. The snap of the cock echoed over the ship. “I’ll conduct me business wherever I please. If it vexes you so, just say the word and I’ll cancel the agreement betwixt us and throw you overboard with the babe.”
“Toss ’im to the sharks,” Hoornes brayed, eliciting chortles from the others.
Horror bloated Sawkins’s sweat-streaked face as he took a step back.
Morris scanned the mob. “Aye, lower your weapons.”
The pirate who guarded Cutter lowered his sword, and the doctor pushed through the crowd and halted behind Hann.
Isabel flattened her lips and yanked her arm, still firmly in Murdock’s grip. “Let me go!” Grinning at her, the pirate wiped his nose on his sleeve.
“Frederick, Mother’s here!” she called across the deck.
Frederick lifted his head from Darla’s shoulder and gazed over the crowd.
“Frederick,” Isabel wept. His eyes locked on hers, and a grin lifted his pink lips. He stretched his hand toward her and spread his chubby fingers wide, then began to whimper.
The affection between mother and son swirled through the air like a sweet fragrance, weaving its way through the vile mob and bridging the distance between Isabel and Frederick. Kent envied such intense devotion—would do anything to place Frederick back in his mother’s arms. Up until now, he’d really had no idea the horror Isabel had suffered being separated from her child. Continuing to toil with the ropes, sweat dripped down Kent’s arms and stung the raw skin on his wrists.
Morris snorted at Isabel. “Curb your tongue, woman.” Then he started toward Darla while flinging a glance over his shoulder at Hann. “Get your mischievous little bones over to me ship, Anne. We’ll discuss this later, as well as what I’m to do with you now.”
“No, Father. Please.” Hann laid a hand on his arm, stopping him, and for a split second Kent saw the resemblance between them—the same large oval eyes, the same triangular jaw and golden skin.
“I have spent six months aboard this ship,” she continued. “Asking, listening, learning. I had to make sure of the captain’s guilt before I killed him. But he has no recollection of setting that ship afire. It could have been any number of pirates on board—even Morgan himself. ’Tis not news that the lot of you were drunk. Who’s to say who caused it?”
Morris glanced toward Kent, his face like stone.
“I’ve found Captain Carlton,” Hann continued, “to be a man of honor, trustworthy and courageous.”
Kent’s eyes latched upon Isabel’s. Her eyelids fluttered, and a tear slid down her cheek. Frederick whimpered, and her glance quickly shifted back to Darla, then over to Morris. “Please let me hold my son! Have you no decency?”
“Decency?” Morris chuckled. “This pirate’s whore talks to me of decency?” His face tightened into firm lines.
The ships lurched over a swell, then dove down the other side, sending beams grinding and a splash showering over them. Droplets landed on Kent’s face, offering a brief reprieve from the assault of the sun. In the distance, dark clouds rose from the horizon like monsters from the deep—like the fury rising within him. He studied his son cradled in Darla’s embrace. His curly brown hair danced in the breeze as he sucked on his thumb, oblivious to the danger around him. An overpowering sense to protect him came over Kent, and to protect Isabel—his family. He must stop Morris.
Morris doffed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “So you expect me to believe that this scoundrel had naught to do with the incident? Why, he’s just playing on your feminine emotions, girl. He’s always been skilled with the ladies.”
“But he didn’t know who I was.” Hann again grabbed her side with a wince. “Father, you know me. I would have killed him if I thought for one minute he was responsible for Johnny’s death. I loved my brother as much as you did.” Hann’s eyes moistened under her wrinkled brow.
Morris swung about, his gaze wandering to the Johnny’s Revenge and the horde of men lumbering on her decks, awaiting his command. “Why can’t you behave like a normal lady, Anne?” He glanced over his shoulder at her before turning back around. “Why couldn’t you stay with the rich husband I painstakingly arranged to take care of you? Egad. Instead, I find you dressed like a pirate and on board me enemy’s ship.”
“’Twas you who taught me to be a pirate, Father. Or do you forget?” Hann grinned. “After Mother died, ’twas you who raised me on board your ship like I was one of your crew. Surely, you can’t expect me to sit on a shelf adorned in satin and lace like a china doll—not after I’ve tasted the thrill of the sea?”
A faint smirk broke on Morris’s lips before he forced them into a firm line. “That is exactly what I expect of you.” A hint of pride swelled above the sternness in his voice. “You are a lady. I’ll have a better life for you than pirating and an early death.”
“You’ll have? ’Tis my life, Father, and I believe I’ll be the one choosing the course of it.”
“Captain, the seas grow restless,” a pirate yelled from the Johnny’s Revenge. “We cannot stay lashed together much longer.”
Morris nodded and studied the horizon as the ships pitched and timbers creaked.
Gritting his teeth, Kent surveyed his weaponless crew. Caleb had labored to his feet, rubbing his head. Hoornes’s eyes locked with Kent’s. Loyalty and determination burned within them. Even his rat seemed to give Kent an affirming nod. Smokes, Graves, Mac, Sparks, and Osborn, among other pirates, stood nearby. He knew he could count on their allegiance. Yet two dozen armed men surrounded them. Even if Kent could manage to get loose, what could they do? His only hope was to snag one of the pirates’ pistols, level it at Morris, and demand the release of Isabel and his son. And of course avoid being shot by one of the musketeers still positioned in the top yards of the Johnny’s Revenge. With renewed effort, he twisted against his bonds and gave Morris his most conciliatory look. “I didn’t kill your son, Morris. We all were responsible that night for those that died.”
Morris’s face took on the fury of a storm.
“But I am sorry for your loss,” Kent added with all sincerity.
“Sorry for me loss, are you?” Morris raged. “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.”
Darla paced, bouncing Frederick in her arms in an effort to quiet his rising wail.
Hann raised a hand to her forehead and swayed. A red blotch appeared on the doublet above her right hip. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Cutter steadied her.
Morris drew his cutlass in a glittering scrape of metal. “Who are you to be laying your putrid hands on me daughter?” The tip of the sword pierced Cutter’s brown shirt. The doctor didn’t budge.
“It’s all right, Fa…” Hann fell into Cutter’s arms, and the crowd parted as he led her to a nearby barrel. She sat do
wn and drew a deep breath, still clinging to Cutter’s arm.
Morris followed them, his sword leveled upon the doctor. “I said unhand her.”
“I am her doctor, Captain.” Cutter straightened his stance and faced Morris, unflinching. “I’ve been taking care of her.”
“I bet you have, you mangled beast.” Morris snapped. “Now, step aside before I slice you in two. I’m in a killing mood. And if I decide not to kill the child, you’ll do quite nicely in his place.”
Not kill the child? Kent’s hopes both surged for his son and plummeted for Cutter. The overconfident doctor had no idea who he was up against.
“No. Leave him be. He saved her life!” Isabel shouted, drawing all eyes toward her.
“Saved her life from what?” Morris leaned over and studied the growing blood stain on Hann’s side.
“’Twas only cannon shot, Father. I’ll live.”
Morris stormed toward Kent, his sword parting a path before him. “You allowed me daughter to be shot aboard your ship?”
Ceasing his struggling, Kent faced Morris’s angry charge. “A risk any man—or woman—takes on board a pirate ship, as well you know, Captain.”
Morris’s eyes became blue slits; then with a jerk of his head, he turned around.
Cutter knelt by Hann and held both her hands in his. Whispers flew between them.
Morris charged toward them, sword flinging through the air. Positioning the tip beneath Cutter’s chin, he raised him from his spot. “How dare you touch me daughter so intimately, and right in front of me as well. ’Tis a crime worth hanging in me book.”
“Aye, aye,” several pirates chimed.
“No, Father, please.” Straining, Hann rose from the barrel and tugged on the hilt in Morris’s hand. “He hasn’t hurt me. He’s a good man.”
Blood trickled down Cutter’s chin, yet he stared at Morris with a calm certitude that seemed to set the captain aback. Morris wrinkled his angry brow. “You leave a man with money and title and all the comforts and luxuries you could ever want for this deformed beast?”
“I love him, Father.” Hann stated with a huff as she dropped to the barrel again.
Cutter’s gnarled lips rose in a grin despite the sword biting into his neck.
The declaration sent a stunned silence over the two ships. The sea clapped against the hull as a blast of wind swirled around them, cooling the sweat on Kent’s arms. Love? Incredible. What other surprises could he expect from his two closest friends?
Lowering his sword, Morris stared at his daughter. “What do you know of love, child?”
Hann shook her head and raised her swimming gaze to his. “I learned it from watching you and Mother.”
Morris swallowed and looked away.
Dark clouds growled on the horizon.
Kent continued wrestling against the ropes, ignoring the pain. They gradually loosened.
Murdock leaned down to scratch his leg, and Isabel barreled into him, knocking him to the deck, and tore from his grasp. She darted toward Darla.
The ship bucked.
Kent freed himself. He clung to the ropes and waited for the right moment to make his move.
“No you don’t, missy!” Morris nodded for Smithy to grab Isabel. The pirate stepped in front of her, wearing a sly grin, and blocked her way just a foot short of Frederick.
Isabel faced Morris and threw her trembling hands to her hips. “You will allow me to hold my son, sir.” The impact of her stern command shriveled beneath the quiver in her voice. Sniffing, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “We are but innocent pawns in this preposterous game of power and revenge.” Her tone softened. “I know you understand the love between a parent and child.”
Morris’s shoulders slumped. “On that we do agree, milady, but then you also understand that I must avenge me son’s death. ’Tis the only thing that will put him to rest in me soul.” Morris tore his gaze from Isabel’s. “Bring the boy here, Darla. Enough of this dallying. The weather worsens, and we must be on our way.”
Gasping, Isabel pounded on Smithy’s chest in a vain attempt to push past him.
Kent clenched his fists behind him and scanned for a weapon within reach.
With Cutter’s assistance, Hann stood. “Father, Captain Carlton hardly knows his son. If you throw him into the sea, he’ll mourn him, yes, but only for a week at most. What sort of punishment is that? Keep the boy alive. Hide him somewhere where he’ll never be found.” Her eyes darted to Kent, and he thought he saw the flash of a wink. “Then Captain Carlton will live in torment all his days. Now that’s a fitting punishment for Johnny’s death, wouldn’t you say?”
Morris rubbed his chin. “Aye, you have your mother’s brains, to be sure. Makes sense to me.” He glanced over his shoulder at Isabel. “But I’ll be taking the babe’s pretty mother too. I see the way the captain looks at her. That’ll settle his debt for sure.” His wicked chuckle sped over the ship, bouncing off masts and railings, and shot straight into Kent’s heart. No, he could not lose Isabel too! Blood raced through him, surging through each muscle. To Kent’s right, one of Morris’s men lumbered against the railing. Stifling a yawn, he looked out over the horizon.
“No need to take the lady, Captain.” Sawkins stepped forward, his upper lip trembling. He fumbled with the hilt of his cutlass.
“It’s none of your concern.” Morris growled. “You should be pleased we’re finally leaving.”
Darla inched past Isabel, a look of understanding on her face.
Isabel reached for her son.
Smithy held her back.
“Come here, girl,” Morris motioned to Darla with his sword. “Be quick about it.” He sheathed his weapon.
Kent plowed into the pirate by the railing, snatched his pistol from his baldric, shoved him to the deck, then turned, cocked the weapon, and pointed it at Morris’s head. “Order your men to stand down and leave my ship or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darkest before the Dawn
Isabel stared at Kent as he aimed a pistol at Morris’s head. Armed enemies surrounded him. He was either the bravest man she’d known or the most foolish. At the moment, as a pinprick of hope tingled within her, she opted for the former. He risked his life for her—for her son—and that alone made him golden in her eyes.
Morris narrowed his gaze while a grin tugged at his lips. “You plan to stop more than a hundred men with that one little pistol?”
“No. I plan to stop you.” Kent tossed sweaty strands of hair from his face. “After that it won’t matter.” He glanced behind him at the pirates inching toward him. “You know I’m a good shot, Morris, and it’ll take only one bullet to pierce that thick skull of yours.”
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Morris swept his glance across the top yards of his ship. His eyelids fluttered in a silent nod, and Isabel looked up to see a man aiming his musket at Kent. Alarm raged through her heart at the thought of losing him. At first the reaction surprised her. Yet who would rescue them if Morris followed through with his threats? She couldn’t lose the one man courageous enough to risk his life for the sake of her son.
“One more step and I’ll shoot your captain,” Kent barked over his shoulder to the men creeping behind him. They halted.
Smithy loosened his hold on Isabel and ran a hand over the back of his neck. She jerked from his grasp and dashed toward Kent. No plan formed in her mind except to save his life. Charging straight toward him, she saw a look of surprise in the corner of his eye just as she shoved her body into his. He toppled sideways, one arm reaching out to keep her from falling, the other still holding the pistol, as he tried to maintain his balance.
A musket shot cracked the air.
“Swounds, woman, what are you do—” Kent stammered and reached for the railing. Isabel fell against his hard body and wondered what to do next. He still held the gun, and she didn’t have strength enough to knock him down. But she had to stop him before he got himself kille
d. Grabbing a belaying pin from the railing, she took a step back, raised it, and slammed it on his head. His gaze met hers in a confused stare of pain that nearly broke her heart. Before he slumped to the deck, unconscious.
A cacophony of cackles erupted all around her.
“You showed ’im!” one pirate chortled.
“Why did you do that?” Hann’s wary voice bounced over the deck.
“’Tis about time,” Sawkins stated.
Dropping the oak pin beside Kent, Isabel stared at his silent form, praying she hadn’t struck him too hard. Exhaling a deep breath, she quieted her hammering heart and turned to face Morris. “How did you expect to satisfy your quest for revenge with Captain Carlton dead?”
“I didn’t intend to kill him, milady.” Morris laughed. “Just knock him down with a shot to his leg, ’tis all, but I thank you for saving me the trouble. I found your display far more amusing.” He snickered and directed his gaze across the still chuckling crew.
Heat crept up Isabel’s neck. She pursed her lips and looked back at Kent. Hopefully, a head wound would heal more quickly than a musket shot to the leg. Either way, he would not have been a player in the final round of this heinous game.
“Well that’ll be the end of it, then.” Morris rubbed his hands together. He snapped his fingers. “Darla, bring the babe.” He nodded toward a pirate standing by Isabel. “Miss Ashton as well.” Then, facing Hann, he raised a brow. “And you young lady, you’ll be coming with me.”
“No, Father, I am staying.” Hann backed into Cutter.
“You will not. I’ll not have a daughter of mine pirating these seas—especially not under a captain like Sawkins.”
Sawkins stretched his neck but kept his jaw clamped shut.
“Then allow Cutter to come with us,” Hann pleaded.
Morris examined Cutter, disgust souring his features. “I’ll not have some mangled freak on my ship.”
“He is not…!” Hann’s face inflamed into a shade of purple that matched her eyes. “If he doesn’t come, then neither will I.”
The Restitution Page 27