The Blue Enchantress

by Marylu Tyndall

  “This way.” Gavin tugged on her arm as though he knew exactly where Abigail had gone. Through a cluster of sea grape trees and out onto a small bank of sand. Lightning flashed across the sky, drawing Hope’s gaze to the shadow of someone sitting on the sand. No, two people huddled together. Two people embracing each other. She froze, Gavin halting at her side. Nathaniel’s and Abigail’s voices drifted to her on the capricious wind.

  “Why did you bring me out here?” Hope tromped back through the patch of sea grapes, weaving around their trunks.

  “I didn’t bring you,” Gavin huffed. “You wanted to find Abigail.”

  “But you didn’t tell me Nathaniel was with her.”

  “How was I to know?” He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “What ails you? Surely you haven’t been blind to their affections for one another?”

  Hope swallowed down the clump of pain in her throat. Of course she’d noticed the attachment between Nathaniel and Abigail. “Forgive me, Gavin. I’m behaving foolishly. My concern was for Abigail, and now that I’ve found her safe and sound, all is well.” She continued on her way, chiding herself for her infantile display.

  “You love him.” Gavin’s words took flight on the brisk wind, taunting her with their truth.

  “Don’t be absurd.” Hope stomped into camp, trying to contain the conflicting passions within her. One of the signs of a true lady, she had learned, was to control one’s emotions. Surely she could do that one small thing. Forcing the anguish from her eyes, she faced Gavin. A frown replaced his roguish grin. She’d hurt him with her callous display.

  “Forgive me, Gavin. I’ve distressed you, and that was not my intention.” She stepped toward him. “You’ve been kind to me.”

  His smile returned. “I’d like to be so much more.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. Hope closed her eyes to his gentle touch, but her thoughts drifted to Nathaniel, and then to Falkland, and the pain returned. Why did no one truly love her? Tears spilled from her lashes, and Gavin whisked them away. He eased his fingers through her hair, then laid his hand on her shoulder, pulling her toward him. Hope could resist him no longer and fell into his embrace. Gavin’s arms surrounded her. Easing her back, he lifted her chin and lowered his lips to hers.

  ***

  Nathaniel walked back to camp in silence, Abigail at his side. A light rain misted over them. He glanced out at the pirate ship drifting nigh thirty yards off shore, and fear stabbed his gut at what lay in store for them all upon it. But Abigail’s tale had given him hope that God indeed was with them and would see them through. And then he could take Miss Hope home to Charles Towne. Thunder cracked with warnings of a storm, and he remembered the tears streaming down her face at the funeral and the tender, loving glances she’d bestowed upon Elise. How could such a vixen possess such a caring heart? Yet despite his efforts otherwise, despite his urgent prayers for deliverance, he found himself drawn to her more. Perhaps Hope could change. Perhaps with God’s help, she could become a moral, respectable lady. Perhaps God was using Nathaniel’s infatuation with Hope for her good and God’s glory.

  Happy with the thought, he tramped through the last grove of trees. Against his first inclination to leave Mr. Hendrick and Major Paine on the island, he must wake them for the journey ahead. And of course Gavin—and Hope. But as he approached the camp, the green glimmer of Hope’s gown caught his eye. She was awake already. Another step and Gavin’s tan breeches came into view. Nathaniel continued onward, peering into the camp. He halted.

  Gavin’s arms circled Hope, pressing her against him, and his lips were on hers.

  Swerving around, Nathaniel marched toward the incoming waves. Infuriating woman! This morning declaring her affections for him, her ardent concern for his safety, and then tonight allowing another man to take liberties with her. How could he have fallen for her wiles?

  “Nathaniel.” Abigail followed him. “I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I know you care for her.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair. “Against my every inclination. But no more. Fire and thunder, no more.”

  ***

  Panic shoved its way through Hope’s desire, dousing the flame as it went. She pushed away from Gavin. “Forgive me.” Disgust simmered in her belly. “I cannot.”

  Gavin flinched then grabbed her arms. “Why?”

  “It is wrong.” She tore from his grasp and turned around, wiping her lips.

  “What could be wrong between two people who care for one another and find comfort in each other’s arms?”

  “Because we are not betrothed. We are not married. And we do not love one another.”

  “The first two can be remedied, and the last one”—his feet shuffled over the sandy soil, and she felt his warm breath on her shoulder—“I would not discount so soon.”

  “I believe you mistake desire for love.” Hope grabbed a lock of her hair.

  “Are you so sure?”

  She swung about. His blue eyes were etched with pain and a spark of expectancy.

  “I’m sorry.” Hope dashed away from him, stumbled into the hut, and fell into a heap on the leaves.

  Why, oh why, couldn’t she behave like a real lady?

  CHAPTER 27

  The tiny ship’s cabin looked like an animal pen in the shifting shadows, and Hope’s heart beat wildly against her chest as if she were indeed a beast about to be caged.

  “I will not—”

  Nathaniel’s firm hand over her mouth smothered her protest to a mumble. He removed it as Captain Poole swung about, lantern in hand.

  “You will not what, Mrs. Mason?” One dark brow rose on Captain Poole’s face as his eyes flashed with amusement.

  Mrs. Mason. Good gracious. The sound of it spoken aloud both terrified and elated her. “I will not ... be needing anything else.” Hope forced a smile. “This is perfect.” Clutching her wet skirts, she sloshed past him and examined the small enclosure, more to hide the look of horror on her face than to inspect her new home—a twelve-by-eight-foot space she was to share with Nathaniel. As husband and wife.

  “I’m happy yer pleased.” The captain’s tone tingled with sarcasm.

  “Yes, thank you, Captain.” Nathaniel had yet to place a foot inside the door. “I’ll come assist you in setting sail.”

  “No need, Mason. ’Tis been awhile since ye’ve been alone with yer wife, eh?” Captain Poole winked at Nathaniel. “I’ll jest be leavin’ ye alone. Oh, and”—his gaze dropped to Hope’s dripping gown—“I’ll send some fresh clothes fer ye both to wear.”

  Captain Poole handed Nathaniel the lantern. “So I’d be doffin’ yer wet breeches if I was ye.” He nudged Nathaniel inside and closed the door with a thud, his laughter fading down the narrow hall as he left.

  Thunder roared, sealing Hope’s fate. The pitter-patter of rain striking the deck above reminded her of the sound of little feet, and she thought of the orphanage she’d never have. Anything to keep her mind off the man standing just inside the door, apparently too repulsed to be in the same room alone with her. She plopped down on one of two wooden beds attached to the bulkhead and grabbed a lock of her saturated hair.

  Nathaniel’s deep breathing filled the room, along with the drip-drop of rain spilling from his breeches and shirt. She did not want to look at him. She didn’t want to see him standing there tall and handsome. Most of all, she didn’t want to see the disgust simmering in his eyes.

  He’d not spared her one glance all night. Not when they’d gathered to board the cockboat, not during the trip out to the ship, and not when Hope had crawled onto the deck from the rope ladder. Not when myriad eyes swarmed over her and Abigail from the dark figures that spread across the deck. And not even when she shuddered as the realization struck her: She was indeed aboard a pirate ship.

  Nathaniel cleared his throat and set the lantern down atop a wooden table. Water dripped off his hair onto his collar. He rubbed his side and inched to the farthest corner of the tiny room. “Unfor
tunately, we must play along with this foolery.”

  Hope swallowed. “You look as though you’d rather be locked up in the hold with Major Paine.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, but the pain of his rejection was too much to bear along with everything else.

  “The fool.” Nathaniel spat. “’Twas the only thing I could do to save his life.” He looked at her now, but he immediately shifted his gaze away as if the vision sickened him.

  “But knock him unconscious?” Hope couldn’t help a giggle as she envisioned the major’s staunch refusal to board a pirate vessel, then Captain Poole’s obliging response in the form of a pistol leveled at the major’s temple. And just when Hope had thought she would be forced to witness a murder, Nathaniel had grabbed a piece of driftwood and slammed it over the major’s head.

  “The captain would have shot him with no more thought than he gives a belch,” Nathaniel said.

  Hope brushed her dripping hair from her face.

  “But I wouldn’t rather be with the major.” His brown eyes stared into hers and remained there, the golden flecks within them shimmering with a depth of feeling that baffled Hope.

  Shifting in her seat, she glanced down, shaking the vision of him and Abigail together on the beach from her mind. “At least you find my company slightly more favorable than the rat-infested hold.”

  The ship creaked beneath a wave, and Captain Poole’s voice bellowed above deck, issuing orders to weigh anchor and hoist the sails. The pounding of footsteps added to the patter of rain, and Hope pushed back a sudden sorrow at leaving the island. It had been home to her for nearly three weeks, a place made bearable, even pleasurable at times, by the man standing before her now.

  “I am sure you would prefer Abigail to be here in my stead.” There went her mouth again. Hadn’t Nathaniel warned her to test her thoughts before letting them fly from her lips?

  He flinched. “Abigail?” His tone sounded incredulous.

  Hope stood, wondering at his reaction. Was he so kindhearted that he attempted to spare her feelings? She sighed. “What does it matter? You’re right. We must make the best of this situation.” Though as she gazed around the cramped cabin, the thought of spending three days and nights in this space with Nathaniel completely unnerved her. “You sacrificed your freedom to protect me. I thank you for it, and I promise to do my best to make this journey comfortable for you.”

  Nathaniel gave a derisive snort.

  Pound, pound, pound. Nathaniel released a jagged sigh and opened the door to a spindly pirate with a pointed chin. “Cap’n says to give ye these.” He handed him a pile of what looked like a gown, chemise, bodice, and stomacher, in addition to a pair of breeches and a shirt. The pirate sent a leering grin over Hope before he sauntered away.

  Closing the door, Nathaniel eyed her. The tight grimace that had taken residence on his face since they entered the cabin relaxed. “This must be quite daunting for you. Being aboard this ship.”

  “A bit, yes. There are so many pirates. And the looks they give me.” “I will do my best to keep you and Abigail safe.”

  Hope smiled. Always the honorable gentleman.

  “This appears to be for you.” His face reddened as he handed the intimate garments to Hope. “Perhaps not clean, but dry nonetheless.”

  Closing the two steps between them, she took them and bundled them in her arms. The scent of wood and tar and Nathaniel mixed with the musky aroma of rain and swirled around her, sending her senses reeling.

  He cleared his throat and tried to weave around her, but they bumped together in the small space. His closeness jarred Hope, and she leapt to the side, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations. He dashed in the other direction but tripped on her foot and thudded headlong against the bulkhead.

  He moaned, and Hope peered at him. “Are you hurt?”

  “Fire and thunder, woman. You will be the death of me yet.”

  She retreated as his spiteful tone tore through her, gripping the dry garments to her chest, not caring that they got wet. “Perhaps you should call on Abigail to tend your wound.”

  “Abigail?” He swung around, rubbing his forehead, where a red bump rose upon his skin. “What is all this with Abigail?” He tossed his dry clothing onto one of the beds.

  “I saw you two on the beach.” There, she’d said it. But the shame of revealing her jealousy stole any satisfaction from the declaration.

  His face scrunched, and he shook his head. “You saw us....” He ran a hand through his wet hair. “Blast it all, I saw you kissing Gavin.”

  Hope’s breath caught in her throat, and she raised a hand to her lips. “I was not kissing him.” She stomped her foot and felt a splinter jab her toe. “He was kissing me.” Before the words left her lips, she realized how ludicrous they sounded.

  “Of all the ... you cannot expect me to...” He took up a pace in the tiny cabin, which only amounted to two steps in either direction. Halting, he glared at her. “You gave me every indication yesterday morning that you felt something for me—” He began pacing again, and confusion kept Hope speechless. Why would her feelings matter to him?

  “And then you turn around and kiss another man. What am I to believe?”

  Tears swam in her eyes. She wanted to give him the explanation he sought. She wanted to tell him she had pushed Gavin away, that his kiss meant nothing to her, that she was trying so hard to be good. She wanted to tell Nathaniel that she loved him. But he wouldn’t believe her. He would always think of her as wanton. “Believe what you want. It matters not to me.”

  His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something. His brown eyes turned hard. He grabbed the door latch.

  “Where are you going?” Her voice squeaked.

  “Anywhere but here.” He opened it and slammed it behind him.

  ***

  Nathaniel emerged onto the deck to a blast of wind and rain that did naught to cool his humors. Sails rumbled and snapped like thunder above him as the ship veered to starboard. He marched to the railing and peered through the darkness toward the island, now a black smudge on the horizon. He bowed his head.

  Lord, rid me of this obsession. I long to do Your will.

  A hard slap on the back jarred him from his prayer, and Nathaniel looked up to see Gavin slide beside him. Shaking the rain from his hair, he gave Nathaniel a sly look. “Fight with the wife already?” He gestured toward Nathaniel’s forehead. “Looks like she got the best of you.”

  Nathaniel growled and gripped the railing, trying to shake the vision of Gavin’s arms circling Hope and his lips upon hers. Better to change the subject than to succumb to the overwhelming urge to grab the man by his collar and toss him into the sea.

  Nathaniel shook his head, ashamed the thought had even entered his mind. Forgive me, Lord. The woman has clearly driven me mad. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t Gavin’s fault. Hope’s charms could not be resisted without difficulty—especially for a man devoid of the power of God. Which made Nathaniel’s own weakness seem all the more inexcusable.

  Hope was an enchantress, just like the name of this pirate ship. An enchantress with blue eyes the color of the sea—eyes a man could dive into and never find his way out of again.

  “Where is Abigail?” he asked Gavin, attempting to divert his thoughts toward anything but Hope.

  Gavin frowned then shrugged. “The captain has seen fit to house her in one of the best cabins—even tossed out his first mate to accommodate her.”

  Rain stung his face and Nathaniel grimaced as fear for Abigail’s safety bristled through him.

  “Never fear.” Gavin eyed him. “I don’t think he means her any harm. Truth be told, he seems quite besotted with her.” He chuckled as if the idea were preposterous.

  “Why wouldn’t he be? She’s comely, in possession of a good mind, and is a proper, kindhearted lady.”

  “Pious and boring, if you ask me.”

  Nathaniel winced at his friend’s poor judgment. He longed to tell Gavin th
at a pious lady is to be preferred, but he feared it would sound insincere on his lips in light of his infatuation with Hope. “Obviously the pirate finds Abigail interesting enough.”

  “Baffling, to be sure.” Gavin wiped the rain from his face and glanced across the ebony waters. “Ah, ’tis good to be out at sea again.”

  Nathaniel could not agree more. The ship swooped over a roller, spraying them with a salty mist that, joining with the rain, cooled his already wet clothes, along with his temper and the heat that always swept over him in Hope’s presence. The first eleven years of his life, Nathaniel had spent most of his days cooped up in a room with his mother. He supposed that’s why he loved the freedom of the sea so much. “And where are Mr. Hendrick and Elise?”

  “Sharing quarters with me.” Gavin leaned onto the railing and shot Nathaniel a disparaging look. “And that imbecile, Major Paine, is locked below where he belongs. You should have let Poole kill him.”

  A cascade of curses swept over them, and Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder at a huddle of pirates up on the quarterdeck, playing cards. It had been a long time since he’d been among such vile men. Shaking off their blasphemies, he gazed at Gavin, so young and adventurous. He prayed for his young friend not to follow in their footsteps. “Have you no value for human life?” Nathaniel asked, hoping to find some mercy within his friend’s heart.

  “For some, yes. My own, for example.” Gavin straightened his stance and laughed, and Nathaniel gave him a disapproving look, then joined him.

  The rain ceased, leaving behind a refreshing sting in the air. Thunder growled its retreat in the distance, and Nathaniel thanked God the storm had been light. One hurricane was enough to endure. All he wanted now was to meet with his last remaining ship and sail to Charles Towne as soon as possible. He rubbed his forehead, wincing as his fingers grazed the knot where he’d slammed into the bulkhead. Because Hope had tripped him. Yes, the sooner he relieved himself of Miss Hope, the safer he would be. In more ways than one.