“Then either get it ready or meet us at the Wild Rose at the docks. But please, please hurry.”
Her breath caught again, she turned to run back to the dock, not giving Sebastian any more time to ask questions. She had done what she could and all that was left was to pray they would listen to her. Most of her speed had already been spent going to the house and now her night without sleep had caught up with her. Her back and legs were aching, muscles tightening to the point that she was unsure that she could keep going. As she made it to High Street and the market, a horse with a cart behind it broke free from its master and nearly ran her down. She fell back, stumbling against a stall selling fish.
“What set him off?” one of the shopkeepers called to the man who was jogging after the horse.
The man gave a scornful laugh and shrugged. “Who knows? These animals are so stupid; they’ll spook because a flag waved a street away.”
She waited a moment to be sure no other spooked horses might try to run her down, then limped her way across the street. By the time she got to the docks, she wasn’t sure she could take another step. Liam was waiting near the gangplank to his ship and immediately crossed to her to wrap an arm around her waist.
“Come on now. Let’s get you off your feet.”
“Did you get my mam?” she asked, her throat feeling worn ragged from gasping for breath.
“Aye, she’s on board and has Donny. She even managed to talk him into putting on clothes again.”
Brigid sagged with relief, letting her head rest against Liam’s shoulder as he half guided, half carried her onto the ship. As soon as Liam let her sink down to sit on deck and rest her legs, it became clear that they had been waiting only for her. Ropes were hauled up and the sails were let out. She wanted to protest that they needed to wait to see if Siobhan and her husband might come, but she reminded herself that they had their own ship. Putting this crew and her family at risk any longer for people who might ignore her warning entirely was foolhardy.
“Brigid, go below deck,” Liam called to her from where he stood at the forecastle, overseeing their departure from the harbor. “Your mam brought fresh bread and fruit from the inn and you need to eat something.”
“What about you?”
Liam paused what he was doing to give her a wry look, then shook his head slightly. “I’ll eat once we’re on our way.”
She pushed herself up to her feet with a grunt, then hissed through her teeth at how her feet felt from the run. “Then so will I.”
“Fine then. Help Paddy with the mizzen-mast and make yourself useful.”
The sailors seemed nonplussed to have the captain’s wife working alongside them; they did their best to stay as far from her as possible. Some of that might also have been due to the way she looked, though. Her hair had knotted into a hopeless mess and the clothes she wore were torn, with sweat and bloodstains marring what was still whole. She didn’t look much like the wife of a merchant captain. When she had a moment to pause, she looked down at her left hand and smiled, then touched the ring there fondly. It had been the first thing she had slipped back on when she went to get dressed again after her shift. Regardless of what anyone else thought of her, she knew her place.
There was some grumbling among the crew over the frantic pace their captain had set them, demanding they catch every current and errant breeze to push them away from the port city. The sand spit that made up Palisadoes arched across the harbor and bent back toward it slightly like the curve of a claw. The docks were kept within that inner curve, which guarded ships from storms, rough seas or naval attacks. It also made it necessary to sail completely around Port Royal in order to leave the harbor. It was normally a voyage made leisurely and carefully, but now the sailors found their captain barking at them to make it faster, as if they could control the very wind.
It was as they were approaching Fort Walker—the furthest point of Port Royal before finally leaving the harbor—when the low rumbling tension that the ratkin had sensed all morning snapped like a bow string pulled too tight. From the water, they could see the land undulate obscenely, rippling as though it were as liquid as the sea itself. Buildings almost instantly began to collapse down into the unsupported sand beneath them. Even people could be seen slipping down into the sand, buried alive within its smothering embrace.
Brigid looked around wildly to find Liam as the men on the crew shouted to one another in horror. There were prayers and there were curses and there were cries of grief. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close and she leaned heavily into Liam, closing her eyes against the destruction.
“We’re still sailing, you lazy lead swingers. Get back to your posts!” Liam barked.
The rumbling and shaking across the city finally came to an end after several minutes, but the damage wasn’t done just yet. Brigid opened her eyes again as she felt the ship lurching. “What’s happening?”
Liam appeared as confused as she felt, then looked from Port Royal to the mainland of Jamaica. “Water’s drawing back from Palisadoes. We’re getting pulled toward open sea.”
“What? That’s not the way the current goes.”
A quiet, still fear settled over every person on the ship as they were drawn inexorably further away from Palisadoes. That had been their original intent, yet having the sea behave in such an unnatural way didn’t sit well with any of them. Sand and old sunken ships were exposed near the shores of Port Royal as the water pulled back. From the ship, it looked as if the tide was going out much further and more rapidly than normal. Almost three hundred yards of land normally covered by water were exposed.
That superficial resemblance to the tide was what had inspired the name of tidal wave for the destructive swells of water that characteristically followed an earthquake. In later centuries, English would adopt the Japanese term “tsunami” for the phenomenon. Many people throughout history had observed the way that water would rapidly draw back from the shore and then wash over the land violently. Unfortunately, the British Isles didn’t have much of a history of such things and the majority of those aboard the ship had been born in the Isles. Even those few who had lived through previous earthquakes in the Caribbean had never experienced anything of the same magnitude as the devastation that had struck Port Royal.
“Mamaí!” a distressed little voice called.
Brigid turned as Donny rushed up from below deck and threw himself at the legs of his parents. She crouched down to wrap an arm around him, then pull him up to her chest. Liam put his arms around the both of them, drawing his family close.
“I think you two should get below deck,” Liam began. “I’ve never seen anything like this and—”
The confusion at the strange event abruptly ended when the water began rushing back toward shore again, carrying the ship with it. Startled cries were heard across the ship as men were flung by the violence of the wave. Brigid felt herself being pulled down to the deck by Liam until they knelt together and he bent over her back to shield her and Donny’s bodies with his own.
Later, those who had observed the devastation from land would describe Port Royal as flowing into the sea, though it was actually the exact opposite. A wall of water six feet tall rushed over the land, flooding buildings that had already been partially swallowed by the sand and washing away busy streets. The majority of people who had found themselves caught by the sand during the earthquake immediately drowned, unable to escape. Ships throughout the harbor were tossed like toys in a child’s bath. Those that had been leaving port that morning and were on the seaside instead of within the harbor fared better, as the destructive power of the ocean and earth wasn’t so concentrated outside of the harbor.
Brigid kept one arm tight around Donny as her free hand dug into Liam’s bicep with a death grip. She was sure she had to be hurting him as her nails pressed into the cloth of his coat, but he never complained and only held her and their son tighter. Donny was screaming as they slid across the deck, the ship tipping sharply
to port side from the force and speed of the water. Over the lad’s screams and the roar of the tsunami, a sailor praying loudly and repetitively could be heard.
The speed of their journey dropped dramatically the closer they came to Palisadoes, but as the water slowed it grew higher, raising the ship with it to overlook the city. Only a few men on the crew were still watching, however. Most had ducked their heads in prayer as they clung to whatever rigging or rail they could to hold fast.
Before the Wild Rose could strike anything or be pushed over onto land, the force on the seaside of the port was spent, having a much broader area to cover. They slowed, then were pushed back toward open sea as the more powerful waves from the harbor side washed over the city and reached their side.
Liam was the first to pick up his head. Brigid followed him, raising her face to see the destruction. The sand spit connecting Port Royal to the mainland of Jamaica was gone, buried beneath the water. At least half the city was gone with it, with only the higher sections toward the center of the city remaining. They were now within a stone’s throw of Fort Charles on the southern side of the city, though the fort looked to have been destroyed in the earthquake and subsequent crush of water.
Liam climbed to his feet and Brigid took his offered hand to join him. Donny loosened his death grip around her neck to look around.
“I don’t wanna sail like that,” he said.
Liam smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “I don’t intend to repeat that, lad.”
“Cap’n! A frigate’s been washed up into the city,” a voice called from above. Brigid looked up to see one of the men had remained in the crow’s nest throughout the entire ordeal. She marveled that he had kept his grip. Even from a distance, he looked pale and sweaty. “The governor’s mansion looks to be gone. All the forts on the harbor side are underwater as well.”
“Brigid! Are you and Donny all right?”
Brigid turned to see her mother coming up from below deck, then nodded jerkily. “We’re fine. And you?”
“Uninjured. When I saw him run to you, I thought it best if I just hold tight on the stairs rather than add another body up here.”
Once her mother was close enough, Brigid pulled her into a quick hug, grateful that they had all survived. Liam was busy checking over the ship and the crew to be sure nothing and no one had taken damage. A crate of cargo had been damaged and molasses had oozed across the floor in the hold, but otherwise everything was still in good order.
“Ahoy!” a voice cried from off to the west. Brigid looked to see a familiar ship and a dark-haired woman waving from the forecastle. “Did you sustain any damage?”
“Just a bit of lost cargo,” Liam called back. “And yourselves?”
Siobhan shrugged. “We’re taking on water, but it’s slow. We should be fine. What we really wanted to know was how you knew this was coming?”
Brigid and Liam exchanged a wordless glance, unsure of how to answer that. Before either could find an appropriate lie, the old cook Robert stepped up from behind them and clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Luck!” he called over to the other ship, then turned to give Liam a toothy grin. “Told you your kind’s lucky to sail with.”
EPILOGUE
LIAM collapsed backward onto the bed with a heavy sigh, clad only in a pair of breeches and the remaining dampness from his bath. They had stayed close to Port Royal for a day, attempting to help as many survivors as they could. Far too many had been lost in the initial destruction—over a thousand, he wagered—and more were left stranded without shelter, food or fresh water. Some of their own food stores had been donated to try to help people, but the city was left in utter chaos and looting had begun as soon as the waves had gone still. Likely the greatest help they had offered was plucking people out of the water directly and then sailing them to dry land.
As they had need to buy new supplies and the crew needed some relief after the mental toll the event had taken, Liam had decided to spend a night on Brigid’s land. The men could recuperate in the village before setting sail again the next day. It put them behind schedule, but that was to be expected under the circumstances. They would still be among the first people to bring news of the earthquake to New England. Perhaps even the very first. He felt it was their duty to pass the news on in every port they passed. Port Royal’s importance to shipping in the Caribbean could not be overestimated and knowing just how bad the damage was would be valuable for any ship to know.
He shifted on the bed to prop his head on his hands and gaze around the room. It was not exactly the house Brigid had grown up in with her parents, she had informed him. The original structure was still in place, but she had expanded on it. What had been the original house was now a sitting room, the kitchen, her mother’s room and servant quarters. Attached to that was a two story structure that now served as the majority of her living space and where she kept the books for her property. Waning sunlight poured in through the west facing windows like molten gold and he admired how the sun looked as it set over Jamaica.
The earthquake had done damage all across the island, but little of it had been as destructive as what occurred in Port Royal. Brigid had reported a few broken cups and a mirror that had fallen off of the wall and shattered, but otherwise her home was intact.
“Feel better after your bath?” Brigid asked as she stepped into the room from checking on Donny. She had changed into one of her nightshirts, which he somehow found far more erotic than plain nudity. The sheer fabric covered her from neck to toe, but hinted at shapes and shadows beneath. There was a comfortable intimacy to it that appealed.
“Much.” He grinned when she came closer before he slipped his arm around her waist and yanked her down onto the bed with him. She yelped with surprise, but he noticed no complaint in her voice or face. He pulled her closer until she threw a leg over him to straddle his hips. His hands settled at her waist to hold her loosely, his eyes moving admiringly over her face. “You’re still coming with me to Boston, aren’t you?”
“We are. My mother says the Murray’s eldest daughter is a good choice for a nursemaid, so I’ll have an extra pair of eyes on Donny.”
“Good.” He reached up to loosen the ribbon holding her nightshirt closed, then leaned in to nuzzle between her breasts. A soft moan and Brigid’s fingers sliding through his hair encouraged him to keep going. Using his nose, he brushed the fabric back until it exposed one perfect, full breast and he ducked to catch her nipple with the tip of his tongue, then closed his lips around it to suckle.
Her hips rocked against his needfully and he felt a surge of arousal. The night after the earthquake, they had been too exhausted and grief-stricken from the disaster to do anything more than collapse into his bed on the ship with Donny nestled securely between them. All the different ways he had come close to losing her came back to him in a rush. Either one of them could have died in the struggle against Elazar. She could have been hurt or taken from him. She could have failed to make it to the ship before the earthquake. The ship could have capsized.
His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest before he rolled over and pinned her under his body. “I can’t lose you,” he said, voice hoarse with emotion. Before she could respond, his lips crushed hers, claiming her mouth with a need that could not be matched.
He was too impatient even to strip the nightshirt entirely from her. Instead, one of his hands moved down between them to work his breeches open. He felt her shift under him, tugging the skirt of her sleepwear out of the way as she parted her thighs, opening herself to him. Liam drew his hard shaft free, then guided himself to the welcome wet heat of her body. Pushing forward with a groan, he clutched her to him.
The feel of her tight around him was a balm after all of the terror they had been through. Her legs wrapped around him to hold him to her, both of her hands buried in his hair. He pulled back from her before thrusting forward again and their mutual gasps and moans of pleasure were muffled in the kiss.
> “Brigid,” he breathed against her lips, before his teeth scraped at the bottom one, eliciting a quiet hiss from her. “Brigid, oh God, I love you.”
He felt her arms tighten around him, her body raise up off the bed to press herself to him more urgently. “I know. I love you, too.”
There had always been something of himself that he had held back. Fear of rejection, of shame from showing weakness and of loss had made him keep his emotions in check. But holding himself back had not lessened the pain from losing her the first time and it had nearly cost him a second loss. Giving in to all that he felt for her and letting her know just how precious she was to him seemed a far better choice. While it would not guarantee that no tragedy would ever separate them, it would make every moment they did have together that much sweeter.
He worried over rushing through their lovemaking, but there would be other times together. Other nights for the rest of their lives, he hoped. He let their passion carry them away, then, focused only on the perfection of each moment within her. When his lips left hers, it was to gasp for breath and nuzzle his way down the side of her neck, then find the tender spot where neck and shoulder met. His teeth dug into the flesh and she jerked under him, her internal walls grasping at his cock hungrily. Liam shifted his weight onto one arm so the other could move down between their bodies. His fingers slid on either side of her clit, urging her on until she was bucking up to each of his thrusts frantically. He could tell from the muffled whimpers that she was biting her lip to keep quiet. Her nails bit into his bare back, dragging down it as she arched between him and the bed.
As soon as he felt the tension snap in her body and the tight heat of her shuddering around his shaft, he was gone. He thrust into her quickly, groaning against her shoulder as he pumped his seed into her waiting body, the both of them swept up in a completion and meeting of hearts he couldn’t possibly hope to ever put into words.
When the both of them were spent, they collapsed against the bed, panting. He nuzzled her sleepily, then shifted so that he didn’t crush her under his weight, kicking off his breeches the rest of the way while he was at it. She nuzzled him in return with a sweet sigh, then pulled back to tug her nightshirt over her head. They curled in close together, cradled in the bed in safety and comfort.
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