Tiger Eyes

by Kimberly Nee

  Without hesitation, and in perfect unison, both men nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Good. I want that ship blown clean from the water and my toad of a brother along with her.”

  Now it was her turn to be the recipient of queer looks. Figueroa cast a nervous glance at Diego, then at her. “Captain Markham, are you certain?”

  Another explosion rent the air and Gabby nodded resolutely. “Absolutely. After all he’s done, this would almost be too kind. I should have let you put him in that bloody noose.”

  “You will go back below until this is all over.”

  She shook her head at Diego. “I’ll do no such thing. I will not hide from him like a coward. I—”

  “The babe, Gabby,” Diego broke in softly. “Think of the babe and don’t be foolish.”

  “But—” Her protest died on her lips and she sighed slowly. He was right. She no longer had only herself to think about, but the child she carried. A backward glance over her shoulder at the Nereus, where men swarmed the decks, no doubt to arm the cannon again.

  As if sensing her capitulation, Diego caught her by the shoulders, bending to her eye level. “Trust me, Gabby. I’d rather not be distracted by worrying about you.”

  “Captain Santa Cruz? The Serena approaches.”

  Diego nodded at Angel as Gabby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It went against everything she believed in, everything she’d ever told herself, to back down from a fight, to rely on someone else to protect her. But not only was her ship in Diego’s most capable hands, but he had the very capable Captain Sebastiano as his second.

  “Gabby, please.”

  It was said so softly it almost escaped her ears. She swallowed hard against pride that was injured and swelling from the blow. “Very well. I will go below.”

  She met his gaze to see his eyes soften. Leaning in, he brushed her lips with a kiss. “Go. And, I won’t even mention to your uncle that you considered taking part in this.”

  “Uncle Jonathan.” She slapped her hand against her forehead. She’d forgotten about him. “He isn’t giving you too much grief, is he?”

  “Quite the contrary,” Figueroa chimed in as another blast rent the air and another chainshot missed them entirely. “Your brother’s not much of a warrior, is he? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such poor aim. Ever.”

  She shook her head as the Galatea returned fire. Whether it was done apurpose or not, the shot missed as well. Judging by both Diego’s and Figueroa’s grins, she assumed it was done purposely. “No. This is the first time he’s ever been aboard a ship. I only hope he’s had bloody awful seasickness. It would serve him right.”

  Diego caught her by the chin and gently turned her head back toward him. “Go. Before Jonathan discovers you here. I’ve a feeling he’ll erupt even without knowing you’re expecting.”

  “You are most likely right.” Even as she said it, she didn’t want to leave him. It wasn’t something she could explain, just a feeling she had that, as long as she kept him in her eyeline, everything would be all right.

  His lips brushed hers again, and he whispered, “Go. Before Jonathan comes to see what is taking us so long.”

  She nodded and reluctantly pulled away from him. It took every ounce of reserve, but she managed to return below without looking back at him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Gabby couldn’t recall a longer day. Explosions ripped through the air, the Galatea shook as though a giant had it in a tight fist. Every so often, wood splintered, both nearby and in the distance, but she tried not to think about it. No, she chose to wedge herself into the far corner of her bed, where it met the cabin wall. She tried to sleep, but when that proved to be fruitless, she stomped over to the meager collection of books, and pulled down a volume for skimming.

  But Aphra Behn wasn’t enough to keep her mind entirely from the sounds of lopsided battle coming from above. On the other hand, it wasn’t nearly as chilling as the sudden thick silence that rent the air.

  She looked up from her book at it, it was so heavy. There were no shouts of victory, no screams of celebration. It was oddly, eerily, silent

  Forgetting about her promise to remain in the cabin, Gabby hastily pulled on her boots and this time, when she made her way above, there was no rocking, no motion other than the gentle roll of the ocean. Even the seas calmed in the battle’s aftermath.

  Topside, remnants of battle littered the deck—splintered wood, a torn sail flapped wildly in the breeze, and columns of thick black smoke rose from the Nereus. However, on the Galatea, she saw no bodies sprawled on the deck, no fragments of what had once been bodies. As far as battles went, this one was apparently quite clean.

  Only Angel Figueroa stood in the wheelhouse, “Where are Diego and my uncle?” she asked, trying to ignore the flicker of worry that rippled through her belly.

  “Down there.”

  There was the port side of the quarterdeck. She could see them standing side by side, staring out at the Nereus, now in flames.

  Without a word, she turned and made her way to the quarterdeck. As she drew near Diego, she said, “What happened?”

  Both Diego and Jonathan parted to allow her room between them, and neither scolded her about being out of the cabin. Diego slid an arm about her shoulders. “They’ve run up the white flag.”

  “And you are going to imprison the survivors, aren’t you?”

  He nodded as Jonathan snorted. “Too good for ’em, if ye ask me.”

  “I’m not asking you, Mr. Wrothston.” Diego’s voice was hard and angry. “I want none of them on board this ship, but what else am I going to do with them?”

  “They can be put to work at one of the distilleries on St. Phillippe.” Gabby stared over at the Nereus. The flames at the bow were more intense, slowly engulfing the ship toward the stern. Blackened sails smoked and fluttered against a brightening sky. “Where is William?”

  She saw him, face down on the deck and frighteningly still. An unexpected lump rose in her throat as she realized what she was looking at. Bile rose and she swallowed hard against it. “Oh…”

  If anything, she expected to feel relief at knowing he’d never plague her again. But relief wasn’t the emotion flooding through her. Nor was it sorrow. She couldn’t define it, and as she turned away from the rail, she said, “Perhaps they would be fine in long boats. We aren’t far from England, are we?”

  “A bit too far to be assured they would arrive safely. I cannot in good conscience leave them to die, but I don’t know what we will do with them once—”

  “Charles Town,” she replied softly. “We can pull into port in Carolina and put them off there. Then they cease to be our problem.”

  She didn’t wait for Diego to accept or reject her proposal, but turned and marched away from the quarterdeck. Though she had nothing but horrid memories of the Nereus, she had no desire to watch the ship’s death, either.

  “Gabriella—”

  Diego’s voice cut through Jonathan’s. “Let her go, Mr. Wrothston. He was her brother, no matter how foul he was toward her at the end.”

  With that, tears clouded her eyes. Unexpected tears, considering she felt neither love nor friendship for William. In fact, she had no idea whatsoever why tears rose up to spill over her lower lashes and slide down her cheeks. Perhaps it was because of the baby that her emotions were all so raw and tender. Either way, thankfully, she made it back to her cabin before anyone saw her cry.

  “Gabby?”

  She sniffed and looked up as Diego opened the cabin door and poked his head in. “Yes?”

  “May I?”

  “Of course.” She swiped at her cheeks with her fingertips to hide the remnants of her tears. Diego had never seen her cry and she certainly didn’t want him to see her do it now.

  He came into the cabin and shut the door behind him. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Gabby.”

  There was no mockery in his voice, but just a d
eep concern. He skirted the table to sit beside her on the bed. As he caught her hand in both of his, she let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know why I am even crying. How weak.”

  “It isn’t weak, Gabby. It’s human.” With his free hand, he reached over to lightly sweep a wayward tear from her cheek. “And I will tell no one about this, if you wish.”

  “He was nothing but terrible to me, Diego. How can I mourn that? How can I be sorry he’s dead, when I’m also rather sorry it wasn’t me who killed him?”

  “Because he’s a link to a happier time? Because you aren’t a bloodthirsty wench, no matter how much you want others to believe the opposite?” A grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I have no answer for that, Gabby. I don’t know that there is an answer.”

  “Perhaps I am losing my mind.”

  “I doubt it. Finn tended to get a bit—ah—weepy when she was in your condition as well. I think babies have a way of wreaking havoc on their mothers before they even arrive.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss into her forehead. “Worry not. If you wish, we can have a formal burial at sea for your brother once the transfer of prisoners is complete.”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes. I think I would like to do that. Perhaps he will find the peace in death he lacked in life.”

  Another kiss and he pulled away to rise. “Very well, love. I will send for you when we are ready.”

  Her breath hitched and she was afraid her voice would break if she tried to use it, so she simply nodded. Diego squeezed her hand and then left to oversee the transfer of the prisoners from what was left of the Nereus to the hold of the Galatea.

  While she waited, Gabby readied herself by changing into clean breeches and tunic, and tucked her treasured sword into the thick leather scabbard she’d had made in Jamaica when she first assumed captaincy of the Galatea. She’d missed her steel, it being handcrafted for her by the finest sword maker in Port Royal, and was thankful Carmichael had not sold or tossed it away on her. Just the opposite—it was exactly where she’d left it that fateful morning, when she disembarked the Galatea in Kingston.

  Finally, Diego came down for her and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  She nodded, swallowing hard as he led her topside, where the entire crew gathered off the portside of the main deck.

  As was custom, William’s body was sewn into a shroud of sailcloth and several cannonballs had been tied to the cloth to give it weight when the body was committed to the sea.

  She remained dry-eyed as she stood between Diego and Figueroa while Uncle Jonathan recited a short prayer. Then, four crewmen carried the body to the rail, and she couldn’t help her flinch when they eased it over and William slid easily into the sea. The accompanying splash squeezed her throat and pinched her heart, but that was it. Now, she need not live in fear of William coming for her.

  That realization brought a surge of relief to displace any sorrow that might have snuck into her heart. She was truly free. Markham’s future was uncertain, but even that couldn’t trouble her. All that mattered was that William was gone from her life forever.

  The service over, the crew went below deck to celebrate their victory over tankards of rum and ale. Perhaps that was exactly what she needed as well, to put the day’s events, along with those of the last weeks, far behind her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Galatea gently bumped against the berth alongside the Serena at the docks belonging to Isla Phillippe Shipping. Gabby blinked her way out into the brilliant sunshine, a delightful change of pace after the gray rains that seemed to follow them all the way from Carolina, where they deposited the men plucked from the wreckage of the Nereus.

  “Shall we, Captain Markham?”

  She smiled up at Diego, ever the dashing gentleman in his almost-blindingly white breeches and scarlet silk shirt. His black, knee-high boots were polished until their shine matched that of the sapphire waters surrounding them. He wore no hat, and the sunlight glinted off his dark brown hair. If it weren’t for the seemingly permanent layer of whiskers that weren’t quite beard shadowing his jaw, he would have looked almost regal.

  “I suppose. Do I look presentable?” She gestured to her own mannish attire of buff-colored breeches and sedate dark gray tunic.

  “My lady, you look beautiful. Just promise me one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll not throw the first punch at Finn.”

  “I promise only that I will not throw the first punch unless she is absolutely asking for it.”

  “Come along, you two!” Iñigo bellowed from the dock. The Serena arrived mere hours before them, and Gabby’s belly tightened as an elegant, white coach rolled to a halt at the edge of the street and Fiona Sebastiano alit. Unlike Gabby, Fiona was every bit the fashionable lady in her gaily-colored turquoise and coral cotton gown, sleeveless as was the island’s fashion in order to cope with the heat. Her black hair was drawn up and away from her face in an intricate coiffure of curls and swoops, leaving Gabby to feel even more the sore thumb with her curly hair blowing loose in the gentle island breeze.

  The knot only worsened when Adeline stepped down from the coach. Like Fiona, she wore a brightly colored sleeveless gown, only her hair was not pulled and pinned up. Rather, it tumbled free over her shoulders in a cascade of shiny ebony silk.

  At the top of the gangplank, she hesitated when Adeline halted at the foot and gazed up at them. Her eyes softened for a moment, and then sorrow flickered through them. Nonetheless, the lady gathered a handful of her wide skirts, and made her way toward them.

  “Captain Santa Cruz, Captain Markham.” Adeline’s smile might have been forced, but there was genuine warmth in her voice as she went on, “Welcome home.”

  Gabby stiffened as Adeline first embraced Diego, then stepped back to say, “You look well, Diego. Happy.”

  He cast a tender glance at Gabby. “I am happy, Addy.”

  “I’m glad.” She turned to Gabby. “And I am glad to see you, Captain Markham. He was miserable when you left, you know.”

  Gabby tried to ignore the heat of embarrassment that cut through her. “I wasn’t exactly happy, myself. But there were things I needed to do before I could return.”

  “Addy!” Fiona called from the next gangplank over, where she stood with her arm through Iñigo’s. “Come along.”

  “Come.” Adeline reached for Diego’s free hand and tugged. “Iñigo and Finn have invited you and Captain Markham back for luncheon.”

  Without giving her a chance to protest, Diego answered for both of them. “Of course.”

  Gabby shot him a look, but he only grinned and squeezed her hand as he led her down to the elegantly appointed coach awaiting them.

  Fiona wasn’t outwardly hostile this time, but instead smiled at the end of the meal, when Iñigo and Diego took their leave and left the ladies alone in the dining room.

  Fiona poured them goblets of wine. “Iñigo tells me that you and Diego are to be married?”

  Adeline flinched, but Gabby nodded. “Yes. He asked me before we left England.” She turned to Adeline. “I’m sorry. That was a bit rude of me—”

  “Please, do not apologize,” Adeline reached out to catch her by the hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “I am the one who sent him after you, Gabriella. He knew, as I did, we were no longer suited for each other and, seeing how happy he is with you, it was the right decision. I am truly happy for you both.”

  Fiona sipped her wine. “We would like to help you plan the wedding, if you’d not mind. I thought that, since you have no family—”

  “There is my uncle.” Gabby smiled. They’d left Jonathan aboard the Galatea, in the care of Figueroa. Hopefully he wouldn’t get himself into too much trouble at one of the wharfside taverns. “He’s in town at the moment. I only hope he causes no trouble. Uncle Jonathan enjoys his ale, I’m afraid.”

  “Worry not. Captain Figueroa will see to it that he finds his way to a comfortable hotel.” Fiona waved away the concern with an air
y hand. “So, will you allow us to help you? I’m afraid my own wedding was a most low-key affair, brought about by a very stubborn, very impatient man.”

  “Considering I know nothing about weddings and the like, I would love you to help,” Gabby said as she lifted her heavy crystal goblet to her lips to take a sip. The wine was fruity and sweet, a far cry from the dry, heavy wines she had in England.

  “Wonderful.” Fiona’s smile was genuine. “And I suppose that is my olive branch as well. Adeline and I would both like to apologize. Her for how she acted on your last visit, and me for how I acted. I hope you do understand I have only Diego’s best interests at heart.”

  It was difficult to not feel even a little bitterness, but the wine helped ease her out of her grump. It was time to let bygones be bygones. After all, she was equally as protective over the people she loved, so she could certainly understand Fiona’s fierce stance.

  She smiled. “I do. And I suppose it must have seemed as though I was doing my best to hurt him. But the truth was quite the opposite.”

  Adeline drained her goblet and rose rather abruptly. “I beg your pardon, Fiona, but I am not quite big enough just yet.” She turned to gaze at Gabby with tear-filled dark eyes. “Though I am happy for you and Diego, I am afraid I cannot be part of this. It hurts more than I thought it would.”

  “Addy?” Fiona rose from her chair, her delicately arched ebony brows knit together.

  “Please, you stay, Fiona. I will be fine. I’m sorry.” Lifting her skirts, Adeline dashed from the room with a stifled sob.

  Gabby bit down on her bottom lip as she turned to Fiona. “Perhaps it is I who should go?”

  “No. I should have known, despite what she claimed, that she wasn’t quite ready to accept that you and Diego are a couple.” Her forehead smoothed and her sigh was wistful. “She has never stopped loving him, I’m afraid. Even when she was married to Guillermo, it was always Diego who held her heart.”

  Gabby shifted as a discomfort crept through her. “Why are you telling me this?”