“For the last time, shut your clack.” Captain Fry observed the crew scrambling to prepare the ship for departure, shouting orders as he saw fit. “Tonight we’ll discuss it at length, but not before.”
James heaved a sigh. Arguing had gotten him nowhere. Captain Fry was determined to leave port in all haste after an incident in town in which one of his crewmen had killed another ship’s bos’n during a disagreement. Some sort of arrangement might have been agreed to as punishment, but the two crews already had bad blood between them regarding splitting the plunder from a ship they’d attacked together. Judging by the worn look of the captain’s clothes and the discontent of the crew, these men had been given the wrong end of the stick.
“Cast off,” Captain Fry yelled, his long black beard ruffled by the breeze.
Crewmen on the pier loosened the lines holding the ship to the dock, and James tensed, the knot in his chest tightening. He’d soon be away from here, away from Charity.
“Man the capstan,” Captain Fry shouted.
James stretched his muscles, tried to relax, but as the crew prepared to raise anchor, his pulse sped. Charity would fare far better without him. He would never be a man to settle down. The sea called to him. Unfortunately, those reminders did nothing to ease his mind. While the call to adventure had at one time made his blood surge and his spirits rise, it now rang hollowly in his ears.
“Hoist anchor!”
Despite the need to remain aboard for David’s sake, the pull to stay in New Providence was like nothing he’d ever known before. But he needed to stay away from Charity for his own sanity. Losing Isabelle had nearly driven him mad. He’d never survive that kind of loss again. James cursed beneath his breath. What drivel. He was already suffering from the loss of her. And why? Who was he truly protecting? Charity? Or himself? Like a coward, he was hiding behind excuses, when in fact, his greatest adventure remained on this island. He could deny it to hell and back, but he loved Charity and had for some time. He couldn’t leave her. Not now, or ever.
James turned to the captain. “Wait.”
“Hold off!” the captain ordered at the same time that James spoke. Captain Fry watched three men run full out toward the pier. “Wait my word!” He hurried to the lower deck. James followed, determined to disembark.
The three men climbed aboard, and one separated from the others to join the captain. About the same age as Captain Fry, the crewman had a spryness the captain lacked and a scar that ran through his upper lip.
“Barnet, what kept you?” the captain asked as James passed by.
“I stowed the body as quick as I could, but had to beat through a crowd to get back here. There’s a disturbance in the street,” Barnet informed him.
“Anything to do with us?”
“No, a disagreement between that Captain Shevington and a girl.”
James picked up his pace, a sick feeling settling in his gut. Charity.
“Ho, Lamont. Where are you off to?” Captain Fry asked as James raced for the pier.
“I have to go.”
“We won’t wait for you.”
“So be it.” Nothing would stop him from going to Charity.
“And your brother?” the captain called after him.
James almost stumbled at the reminder, but forged on. David, I’m sorry. As much as he wanted to find his brother, Charity needed him. And he needed her.
He turned into the main street of town where a sizable crowd had formed. It didn’t take long to find Charity. She and Shevington were the center of attention. He fought to get closer, the bodies packed tight around them. He caught glimpses of the two as he struggled to move ahead. His anger spiked as Shevington wrapped his hand in her hair and yanked her head back, the bastard.
“Where is your lover?” Shevington bellowed into her face.
To her credit, she didn’t cringe or beg but spoke clearly and calmly. “I’ve told you, he’s gone.”
“I saw the two of you together just this morning. Don’t lie to me!” Shevington slapped Charity across the cheek, the crack of flesh on flesh a sound James would not soon forget. A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of her lips, and he ground his teeth, his hand itching to pull his pistol and shoot Shevington right here, right now. If only he had a clear shot.
He fought harder to push through the gathering of vermin who continued to laugh and swill rum. To them, Charity’s torture was simple entertainment. His progress was slow. Too damn slow. He searched the area for Thomas and Whip, finding them prisoners of The Judge and his minions, men too afraid of the quartermaster to disobey. Although Thomas fought his captors’ hold despite the blood already dripping from his nose, James would get no help from that front.
“Tell me where he is,” Shevington demanded.
“I can’t,” she shouted back, her frustration evident in her tone. “And even if I could, why would I tell you? You’d likely kill him.”
This time Shevington’s hand balled into a fist. James shook with fury, both at Shevington and himself. He should never have left her. “I’m the one you’re looking for,” he called out before that spawn of the devil could hit her again. Almost immediately, the circle about him widened.
Shevington released Charity, his interest piqued. “All of you, back away. Let me see the man who spoke.”
…
Charity couldn’t believe her eyes. What was James doing here? He should be sailing away to find his brother. A sense of foreboding settled deep inside her belly. He should run before it was too late.
The crowd complied with Captain Shevington’s command, and soon James came fully into view. The captain seized the pistol from his belt and aimed it toward James. No! “Don’t shoot him,” she pleaded. “Killing him will change nothing.”
Shevington cast her an indignant sidelong glance. “Killing him will restore my honor, and yours.”
Her heart twisted. She had to save James, but how? She had no weapons. Then again, she had one at her disposal. If she used what she’d learned while wearing this dress… If she used her womanly wiles. The thought sickened her, but for James she would do whatever necessary, even offer herself to a man she despised. She laid a hand on Captain Shevington’s chest, his body stiff and unyielding. “If you let him live, I’ll do whatever you wish.”
Judging from the dubious set of his straight, dark brows, he wondered at her game. “I already have you at my mercy. I don’t have to agree to your terms.”
True, but at least she now had his full attention. Her mind raced. What more could she offer? Her throat closed off and her mouth became as dry as the street beneath her bare feet as a thought dawned. She had only one thing left to offer—her free will. Her stomach rebelled at the idea, but she had no other choice. She swallowed to moisten her throat and forced herself to speak. “If you let him go, I’ll come to your bed without a fight.”
Surprise softened his features, and he slid one hand down her side, drawing her close, his eyes flickering with desire. His fingers flexed, then clenched her petticoat, and his gaze burned her breasts as he contemplated her offer.
Would he agree to her terms? She smoothed the fine fabric of his coat and leaned closer until her mouth almost touched the rim of his ear. “Let’s go somewhere right now, and I’ll show you the kind of wife I can be.” The words chafed her throat and left a bitter taste on her tongue, but Captain Shevington’s pistol lowered.
“To our ship,” he said to his men. He took her arm and led her through the press of bodies. Charity dared not look at James, not with the future that lay before her. She would only survive if she stayed strong.
She should have known he wouldn’t stay silent. “Ho, my fellow brethren, do you not see who stands before you?” James’s familiar voice filled the air.
Charity did stare at him then. What was he about? Why call attention to himself again? The fool, she’d just saved his life.
James gestured in the captain’s direction. “Let me introduce Richard Shevington, a Royal Na
vy captain.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd like the rumble of thunder before the coming storm. James was a sly one. Would pirates come to their rescue?
“Captain Shevington plans to bring back a fleet of Royal Navy ships to destroy this paradise of ours,” James announced, inciting outrage all around him. “He’ll string us all up by our necks if he has his way.”
“Not if we don’t let him,” someone growled nearby. The burly pirate pulled a dagger from its sheath and pointed it at Captain Shevington, stopping their progress. A wisp of hope floated up through Charity’s chest, but dissipated just as quickly when a group of men stepped forward to defend the captain. Royal Navy sailors. Their garb was so similar to that of the pirates, she hadn’t realized just how many had stood in the street with them. Despite their show of loyalty, Captain Shevington used his pistol to dispatch the threat, only to have several more advancing pirates replace the first.
His sword in hand, the captain released her to join his men, his skill quickly apparent. With a few swipes of his cutlass, he skewered a man through and left him for dead, moving on to his next victim.
The smack of fists on flesh and the clang of metal ringing from all sides, she searched for a way to escape the fray. She had no weapons, and only God knew whether the pirates attacking would see her as friend or foe. Movement along the outskirt of the skirmish caught her eye. Thomas and Whip were running from door to door, yelling for more pirates to join in.
An arm caught her about the waist before she could find a way out. She looked up over her shoulder at The Judge, and kicked his shin with all her might. He grunted, then lifted a blade to her throat.
Captain Shevington glanced back as The Judge dragged her away, slashing open a path.
“Stop right there,” the captain ordered as he stepped closer, eliminating the gap between them.
The Judge stilled, the captain’s bloody cutlass too deadly to ignore. “You’ll get her back when my men are freed.”
The captain’s lip curled in a savage look that made Charity shudder. “You’ll give her to me now, or you die.”
The blade’s edge scored her throat. Her breath quavered and her legs shook. “No, she’ll be returned on my terms,” The Judge warned.
The captain’s gaze darted to their left. “Chetham,” he shouted.
A red-haired man four feet away spun about, took one look at them, drew his pistol, and fired at The Judge’s head.
The Judge’s arms went slack and he crumpled to the ground behind her, his blood pooling onto the dusty street. The sight churned her stomach, and she choked on the overwhelming smell of blood.
“Come.” Captain Shevington held out a hand as he assessed the fighting around them.
What kind of person could so easily order someone’s death, and then dismiss the event as if it was of no importance? She snatched up The Judge’s knife from the ground, and turned toward the man who would force her to become his wife.
He took one look at the blade she held, a blade much smaller than his own, and laughed.
How dare he? She slashed out, slicing his cheek, and his chuckling stopped, replaced by a curse the likes of which she’d never heard before. He pulled his arm back and punched her in the face, knocking her to the ground. Pain shot into her eye and radiated down her nose as a mist of tears fogged her vision. Still, she wouldn’t give up. She raised the dagger once more and staggered to her feet.
Captain Shevington didn’t laugh this time. Instead, he pulled his fist back again. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? But you’ll learn.”
“Don’t touch her!” James breached the wall of fighters beside them and shoved a sailor to the side.
The moment she saw him safe and whole, her heart hammered an extra beat.
“Lamont, is it? I’m glad you’re here.” Captain Shevington glanced to the side. “Chetham,” he called again, followed by, “Redman!”
Chetham turned at the order with a dagger in each hand, and Charity scanned his belt for weapons. Only one pistol, and the shot had already been fired. He’d need to reload if he intended to use it, thank heavens.
Another man, Redman, moved into position beside the first. Captain Shevington nodded to both, and the three of them spread out around James.
She stepped forward, her knife at the ready. “You’d best retreat while you still can,” she warned the navy men. “More pirates have joined the fight. Your crew is outnumbered.” Indeed, she hadn’t lied. The street was now filled with combatants, the Royal Navy men at a disadvantage. Although she could hardly tell the difference between navy and pirate before, now it seemed obvious. The pirates fought with reckless abandon, almost relishing the risk of life and limb.
Captain Shevington smirked. “We have enough time to dispatch your lover before we go.”
“Charity, stand back,” James insisted, but she stayed by his side. If she could occupy even one of them, James stood a better chance.
Redman angled closer to her, while the captain and Chetham honed in on James. No time to doubt herself, Charity thrust her dagger forward, forcing Redman to step away. His amused grin grated, and she stabbed again. This time he seized her wrist and twisted. With a cry, she dropped the weapon, and he yanked her forward into his arms. Blast! She struggled to throw him off to no use as the captain and Chetham surrounded James.
James backed up to keep both men in his sights. Their blows were quick and ruthless. As James parried one attack, the other struck at him. He gasped for breath, fatigue plain on his face. She jabbed her elbow into Redman’s ribs and rubbed up against a pistol stashed in the waist of his trousers. If she could just reach…
“Let her go, or I’ll cut you from groin to chin.”
Thomas? James’s friend stalked toward them, a sword in his hand. Redman adjusted his hold on her to better face this new threat. That movement was all she needed. A quick thrust of her hand and Charity seized hold of Redman’s crotch, crushing the lump of flesh she found there. He gave a strangled moan and released her to pry her fingers away. She grabbed the pistol from his waist and cocked the hammer. Captain Shevington attacked James with ferocity. His cutlass slashed the air over and over again. James blocked repeatedly until one final blow knocked his knife from his hand.
Thomas made a move to help James, but he wouldn’t make it in time.
Her pulse nearly jumping from her skin, Charity took aim and fired. The shot jerked her hand, the explosion deafening. A red spot appeared on Captain Shevington’s chest and quickly grew in size. He peered down at it with a shocked expression on his face, and crumpled onto his back to stare sightlessly up at the sky.
The battle raged on with Thomas fighting by James’s side, and Whip finding them and taking Redman as his prisoner. As predicted, the pirates banded together and soon captured the Royal Navy crewmen. New Providence would remain a secret pirate paradise, at least for now.
Even after the skirmish subsided, Charity stared at Captain Shevington’s body, the moans of the wounded barely penetrating her senses. She’d killed a man. He’d been merciless and brutal, and still she shook with the knowledge.
Her knees gave way, and James caught her in his arms, drawing her close. “Hey, now. It’s over.”
The steady thud of his heart beneath her cheek calmed her. James was safe. They both were. Captain Shevington would never hurt them again. Captain Shevington. She shivered. “Don’t let me go.”
“I won’t. Never again.” His arms tightened around her. “Never again.” His hand came up to rest at the nape of her neck, and his fingers played with her hair.
His words seeped into her every pore like warm rays of sunshine, and yet something inside her didn’t trust them. Then she remembered… “Your brother. Has the ship left without you?”
“Yes. I’m sure it’s long gone by now.”
She peered up at him, studying his face for any clue. “Why? Why didn’t you go with them?”
His eyes found hers, and the sincerity in their depths rob
bed her of breath. “Because you needed me… And I need you.” He shook his head. “It took nearly losing you to open my eyes. I love you, Charity. I don’t want to live without you. I’d be miserable without you.”
She wanted to believe him. Her heart begged her to listen, but after what he’d said back in the stable, she needed more. “You’re a sailing man, a captain of your own ship. I thought there was no place for a woman in your life.”
He winced. “Forgive me. I’ve been such a dolt. All along, I believed I was protecting you from the dangers of sea, that I didn’t want Isabelle’s fate to befall you, too. And now I know I was really protecting myself. Losing her, losing David, I never want to experience that again.”
“Oh, James.” She hugged him tighter, then opened her mouth to argue, to tell him that his guilt regarding his brother and sister was uncalled for.
He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Yes, I know that Isabelle’s death was an accident, and that I couldn’t have stopped what happened to my brother. Life is unpredictable and uncertain, but whatever it brings, I want to spend it with you. Marry me.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Had she heard him correctly? “Say that again.”
He dropped his forehead to hers and settled a soft kiss on her nose. “Charity, will you marry me? We can live on land or at sea. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”
Emotions lapped like rolling waves inside her. Joy. Relief. Love. She clasped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.
With a low groan, he responded in kind, the feel of his mouth heaven on earth. James loved her. He wanted to make her his wife. Nothing could make her happier.
He ended the kiss, and she almost cried out in protest. “Is that a yes?” he asked, his lips twitching in amusement.
“Yes, of course it is. I love you.” She pressed her lips to his once more.
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