by Diana Layne
****
Gina’s head was spinning. She wasn’t sure if it was from blood loss or from what Captain Gomez, the Spanish captain, had just told her.
Mickey, who had joined her from the Gypsy Doll, for once was struck speechless.
The captain, vain and arrogant, sat in his desk chair, looking completely at ease. She and Mickey had taken him to his office to guard until Charles returned, while her men kept watch on the Spanish sailors and soldiers below deck.
“I find it quite amusing, Señorita Capitan, that you have lost your ship for nothing. Bad information you had, no? Or were you deliberately misled?”
“Shut up,” she snapped. “Or I’ll cut out your flapping tongue.”
He smiled, laced his fingers across his stomach, but wisely kept quiet. She tried not to think about what he’d told her.
There was no gold on this ship.
Only munitions and supplies for their troops.
Had Charles’s information been wrong? Or had he apurpose led her astray? If that were true, then why?
Regardless, her ship, the Gypsy Doll, was sinking into the depths of the ocean. The thought made her breath catch painfully in her throat.
That was her father’s original ship. He’d never had one sunk from beneath him. Now, she’d lost it. And lost the doll. So much for any protective spell. Although Gina herself was safe, she felt as though her heart had been pierced with a sharp sword.
Her father would be so disappointed.
Mickey stepped the length of the captain’s cabin, back and forth, back and forth, but she hadn’t the energy to do more than stand propped against a bulkhead, struggling to breathe through the enormity of what had happened.
“Spain will not take kindly to lowly pirates sailing one of her ships.”
“Spain won’t know what happened, if I toss all of you overboard,” she growled.
“If ye had not been such a piss-poor captain, we would not have captured your ship,” Mickey added to the arrogant oaf.
“Captain Charles set you up,” the Spanish captain continued, with obviously no regard for his well-being. Or else he doubted her ability to cut out his tongue.
She pulled her knife. “Hold him, Mickey. His tongue becomes offensive to me.”
Captain Gomez tried to scramble out of the chair, but Mickey was faster.
Before she could reach him, the door flew open. Charles, wet and bedraggled, entered with some sort of pack tied around his waist.
“What is it you risked life and limb to get off a sinking ship?” she blurted.
“Ah, good. I’m not too late for the party.”
“Señor Charles, I’ve heard much about you the last few years. You’ve done well for yourself since we last met.”
Gina turned a questioning gaze to Charles, who ignored her. Instead, his jaw clenched and the veins in his neck bulged as he focused on the Spaniard. A halo of steam hovered in the air around him.
“Are you happy now?” Captain Gomez continued. “We are even, no? You have captured my ship.”
“I won’t be happy until you rot in that hellhole where you left me.”
The captain chuckled. “That will never happen.”
“Don’t be sure. I have your ship. And now I have the opportunity to pay you back for this scar, along with everything else.”
Gina’s gaze went to the scar on his face. She’d grown so used to it, she’d mostly forgotten it.
Not Charles. He pulled his sword.
Gina still gripped her knife. “Charles?” She felt as though she’d walked in late on a Shakespeare play. But she was fast catching up. He and Captain Gomez obviously had a long-standing adversity.
Once again Charles ignored her as he stalked over to the captain. Was he really going to attack an unarmed man?
“This is about revenge?” Her anger rose. “You knew there was no treasure on this ship? You lied to me?” She held her knife, ready to carve him like a roast suckling. “I lost my ship for nothing?”
Charles didn’t take his focus off the captain. “You have this ship now.”
“This ship is not my Gypsy Doll! It’s not the ship I grew up on. This ship has no meaning for me, and now I must keep sailing on this…this stupid foreign ship? I don’t even get to spend my father’s last years with him?”
The rising hysteria in her voice served to catch his attention at last. He turned, eyeing her warily.
“Gina, I see the captain’s mouth has been running—”
“You lied to me.”
“And no doubt bedded you to seal the deal.” The Spanish captain’s laugh made her feel foolish and gullible.
She narrowed her gaze and lunged with her knife. Charles blocked with his sword and knocked her knife away.
She pulled her sword.
His face showed he took her seriously. “Gina, wait.”
“You used me for revenge.”
“No.”
She thrust. He blocked. With each move, he only sidestepped and parried, never attacking. He let her go after him until she tired, lightheaded. She stumbled. He easily could have run her through.
“Gina, you’re bleeding again, love. Stop.”
One last lunge...she could finish him off. One last...lunge. The room spun. Somehow her sword clanked to the floor. Her world went black.
****
Gina awoke later in a dimly lit room, in a bed not her own. Confusion made her frown. Then she remembered. The Gypsy Doll. Charles. Betrayal.
All for nothing. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend none of this had happened, but it didn’t work.
Her heart clenched.
She twisted her head to look around, then immediately regretted the move. Her head felt stuffed full of linen and ready to explode. She caught something out of the corner of her eye. This time, she turned her head more slowly.
Rosa? Awkwardly she reached to pick her up. How did she get here?
Gina held onto the doll. Charles must have gone back for her. No one else other than Mickey knew how important Rosa was to her, and Mickey had no doll on him when he came aboard the Spanish ship.
It was hard to imagine Charles risking his life for a piece of whalebone. But she remembered the pack tied around his waist. Had the doll been in there?
Charles. She closed her eyes. Had he used her, betrayed her? All for revenge? Why didn’t he tell her?
If he had, would she have helped? Would she have willingly put her ship and her men at risk—for nothing? When she had a father to depend on her? No, she couldn’t have done it. No matter what Charles owed the Spanish captain.
She hugged the doll, briefly regretting there’d be no child of her own. Rarely had she thought of children, knowing she’d have to sail the seas until she was too old to sail any longer. She’d probably meet her death on the sea.
But for a time, thinking they were after a treasure and she’d be able to retire, she’d allowed herself to hope.
She sighed. She’d loved Charles since she was a child. How could she have misread him so? Her father had trusted him. Had the years so much changed the boy she’d known?
Sadly enough, her heart still loved him. She still wanted to believe. She picked up the doll and looked at her. Totally useless doll. Protected her maybe, but what was the use? There was no protection against disease, no protection against sinking ships, no protection against heartbreak.
She didn’t believe Charles had meant her harm. Otherwise, he’d be dead, according to the curse.
But wait! Who said Charles was not dead? She was in this room alone. She had no idea who was on the other side of the door.
She pushed upright, looked for a sword, a weapon of any kind. All she could find was—
The door opened. She tensed, weaponless, injured.
“What are you doing sitting up? Lie back, love.”
She sank back in relief. Charles.
He came over and urged her to lie back down. “You need to rest. That’s a nasty wound you got.”
Still, all she could think to say was, “Why?”
“I had to bandage you. You were bleeding quite profusely after you tried to run me through with your sword. One couldn’t blame you, of course.”
“Why...” She wanted to ask why did you betray me, but couldn’t, she wasn’t strong enough to hear the answer. Instead she asked, “Why did you go back to get the doll?”
“Because, love, she is our treasure.”
He took the doll, turned her around and flipped up her skirts.
Surprisingly, there were markings on her back. “How did these get here?” Gina looked closer. “A map?”
“Not just any map, a treasure map.”
“Why is there a treasure—”
“I needed a safe place. I thought she would protect your ship. Obviously I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“She supposedly protects me. I wasn’t on the ship.”
“Ah...that’s how it works. Well, I couldn’t lose her after all the time I spent tracking down the information.”
“Tracking down? Surely not all those meetings I caught you in with those men... That man who warned me. He knew there was no treasure on this ship.”
“That’s not entirely true. There is gold on this ship. The captain lied to you. But I know where there is much more.”
“So why did we waste time with this ship?”
“The captain is a sadistic bastard. He’s the one who bought me when I was shanghaied. And yes, he did give me this scar.
“He took us to an island, a sweltering hellhole. We worked in his gold mines. Not many survived. The location was kept secret, and there was only one way off the island, since the waters were shark-infested. Death.”
“So how did you get off?”
“I died, of course.”
“You...died?”
Charles shrugged. “I made them think I did. Two men died. Another man and I, the man you met, buried their bodies in the middle of the night and took their place in the sack aboard the ship.”
“But...where’d he take the bodies? Why not bury them?”
“He didn’t want the dead bodies littering his island, I suppose. Superstitious chap, ghosts and all that.”
“You’re joking.”
“Thankfully for me, I am not. When the ship set sail, we were wrapped in that sack. It felt like we were suffocating.” Charles paused and a shudder rippled through him. “We were stored in the hold of the ship. We freed ourselves and took over the ship. By the time we were in charge—”
“Just you and another man took over a ship?”
“It was a small ship. It was night. Hardly a crew—how many crewmen do you need to guard dead bodies, after all? It wasn’t hard to capture the ship, but by the time we did, we were lost among the islands. We finally made it to open sea.”
“What about star charts?”
“None. Small ship. It only ran between the islands to dump the bodies.”
“What does all this have to do with the Spanish captain?”
“It’s his island. Apparently he acquired it in service to the Spanish Crown. He’d visit occasionally, planned to retire there when his military service was over.”
“How do you know so much?”
“I made it my business to know. When I escaped, I found a crew and sailed to England and told the king what I knew. I became an agent, tracking this bloke. When the war broke out, knowledge was valuable. The captain has a long list of crimes and a nice reward on his worthless hide.” Charles walked away a few steps, then turned to face her.
“When I found out about your father, I decided to try to find the way back to the island to get some of that gold, so you wouldn’t have to live a life at sea.”
“What? Why?”
He came forward, took her hands, and fell to a knee beside the bed. His hands felt warm against hers. “I’ve always loved you, Gina. Letting you go off to school was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But you deserved an education, a chance for a good life, not to be married to someone who lived on the sea.”
“You...loved...”
“The cards fell favorably. I saw an opportunity to capture the captain and take his gold, as well.”
“The other man? What of him?”
“He’s been well paid by England. He wasn’t a sailor when he was shanghaied, and he never wants to step foot on a ship again. He’s content with his bottle.”
“So, wait. You’re working for England, there is a reward for this captain, plus you know where the island of gold is?” Her head spun with all the information.
“Yes, indeed,” Charles moved to sit on the edge of her bed and dropped kisses on her fingers. “And now we have a Spanish war ship to go get it. In addition, I believe I can wrangle a land grant for us.”
Little spurts of pleasure shot through her at each kiss on her fingers, but she managed to say, “The island?”
He grimaced and stopped kissing. “The less I see of that hellhole, the better. I was thinking more of the colonies, perhaps. The king is trying to populate that land. Perhaps we can help with a child or two of our own.”
She had to close her eyes. She needed time to take in all he was telling her.
“You’re speechless.” He laughed lightly. “I can’t believe it.”
At last, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about if I ask if you want to help me storm an island, steal some gold, then run away and be my wife, and you’ll say—”
“Yes,” she answered. “I’ll say yes.”
A word about the author...
Diana Layne credits her storytelling abilities to growing up as an only child and only grandchild, creating make-believe friends to chase away loneliness. When she grew up and the friends didn’t leave, writing proved to be the logical next step for playing with her characters.
A homeschooling mom of six, Diana lives in a quintessential small Texas town and enjoys spending time with family, friends, and her menagerie of pets.
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