by Jackie Ivie
~ ~ ~
The flush of battle came to him just when he needed it, making every ache mute to a solid throb of anger, and rage, and bloodlust. The only thing it didn’t do was make his body respond the way it should. The way he expected it to — like it was healed.
Cord had been beside Rex at the captain’s wheel, watching. It was the best vantage point, and it didn’t require him to move anywhere. He wasn’t about to admit weakness, and he wasn’t letting Marcelle win. Both of which required willpower and the ability to make his body handle the motions he required of it. It wasn’t easy. When he felt too weak, he leaned against a rail until it passed. Then, he moved on.
They’d waited for the ship to spot them before running up the flag. It was their trademark. It made it much more poignant that way. No one had to give an order for anything after that. It was well-timed, and well-rehearsed, and perfect.
The anchor was dropped off the starboard side, bringing The Seduction to a shuddering halt and sending it broadside in a clockwise direction. That put all seven cannons directly in line to the caravel. That was when they sent the black flag to full staff. In tandem, the seven fuses were lit and within seconds of each other the cannons barked their response.
The first shots grazed the bow, splitting off the figurehead, taking wood from the bulkhead, and several went wide, just as Rex Fletcher ordered. Not only was his daughter aboard, but they were damaging his fanciest ship as well. If the caravel had run up a white flag, it would have been over, but that wasn’t what happened. He’d hired a fighting captain and crew for his biggest ship. Cord watched as Rex ordered another round of cannonade to bring about surrender, once gunfire was returned.
Cord’s palms were slick. He wiped them across his pants, leaving dark trails.
There was a slight wind in the air, with a bit of chill to it. He didn’t feel it. All he felt was heat, anger, and disgust at his own body.
“Come along then. Careful. Watch your step.”
Cord set his jaw, clenching his teeth to ward off pain, and glared at Linna’s brother.
“What? You don’t like having a nurse-maid? Well, I’m not so fond of the chore, either. Get a move on or we’ll miss the boarding, too.”
One of the caravel’s masts had taken a blow and sheared off near the base. Cord had watched in the fading sunlight as it had wavered back and forth, tangling lines and sails, and looking for a moment like it wouldn’t fall, since it had spun a web about itself. Then, with a great groan, it had gone right over the side, the mast tip sinking below the waterline and dragging the bigger ship to a complete standstill. It was tantamount to a death blow.
He couldn’t see anything, his heart was a pounding problem in his ears, and there was nothing he could do about any of it. Cord had never felt so helpless. There was smoke, cries, and not much else happening, and not one of them was that they’d found Linna.
Linna! His soul was crying the name, but his jaw remained set. His mouth silent.
He reached the deck, sent the order for his legs to continue holding him, and trusted they’d obey. The Seduction was alongside the crippled ship with grappling hooks imbedded into the other ship’s rails, and all Cord managed to do was stumble down a ladder and across the decking, listening to Drew’s complaints the entire time. He knew why Rex had given Drew this duty. As slowly as Cord was moving, there was no better way to keep from seeing any action. And that kept him safe. Rex was cunning all right. Drew didn’t even see it.
There were more shouts, louder and angrier than the others. Above the smoke line, Cord could see the reason. They had Marcelle, looking ridiculous in a plum-colored velvet long coat, with a cutlass in his hand and his back to the rail. The fool had gone to the fo’c’s’le deck, and was surrounded.
“No!”
Cord opened his mouth to say it, but nothing came out. Until they knew where Linna was, they’d need Marcelle. The fools! The wind shifted, wafting smoke through across the sight and making everything on Cord anxious, and worried, and rushed. And his body wouldn’t cooperate with any of it.
He could hear the fighting, but couldn’t see anything once he reached the boarding planks they’d slapped into place, linking the ships. The sun was setting, and the smoke was wafting about, and he had to focus on a new problem. Getting across the impromptu gangplanks. With the tide coming in the ships were rocking in place, making the planks slide back and forth. There was no way to race across. His ribs wouldn’t allow him to suck in a deep enough breath, and his legs weren’t moving at his command.
Drew went across first, turned to look at Cord, and got a cry of warning before barely ducking a sword aimed at taking his head from his torso. That was all the incentive the other man needed. The clash of steel rang out, and then Drew disappeared into the gloom, too.
Cord hated the weakness of his own body. He used that emotion to get across. It seemed to take forever. He had to take two shuffling steps, wait for the board to rock back, take two more steps, then wait. Two more...wait. It was time-consuming and strength-sapping. He was shaking with the effort, but he was across. And then he was looking. His heart was paining him with the strength of each beat. He knew what the emotion behind the pain was, too. Fear.
Fear didn’t help him move. He had to traverse the deck somehow, keeping the railing in his hands and using his shoulders as much as his legs. It had gone past dusk as he moved. Then it went to full nightfall. He blinked the sheen of moisture from his eyes and cursed that weakness as well.
That’s when he knew for certain that he wasn’t invincible, he wasn’t soulless, and he wasn’t hard and hate-filled. He was worried, and alone, and helpless. And then he was blinded as Birdie jumped on the deck beside him in a flare of lantern light.
“There you are! Master Fletch has been calling for you. Yep. He has. I’m to see you there! Come along then!”
The fellow moved out of light range, then had to come back and slow his pace. Cord wasn’t used to getting assistance, but he sure as hell appreciated it now. He was learning to count his blessings as Birdie gave him a shoulder to lean on so he could keep his legs moving.
Fletch had one foot on an upturned chair, his sword on the deck for balance, and looked exactly like a pirate captain that had just taken a ship was supposed to look, and he wasn’t being very quiet with his words toward his son.
“You weren’t to see any action! Good Lord, your mother will have my head. I should make you swab this deck for a year—no. Wait. I think I’ll make you repair it first. What’s the damage? Aside from the ship? How many dead? Wounded? One? Just one? Good work, lads. Excellent.”
“Linna?” Cord croaked it as he moved into the light.
Fletch looked over toward him. “Well! There you are. What took you so long? Blight! Fetch the Marquis de Larroquette a seat, before he finds one on his ass.”
“You found Lin...na?” Cord asked, again.
“Just have a seat, son.”
“Is she...hurt?”
A bucket was brought for him and upturned. Cord sank onto it. His knees were trembling. He wondered if willpower was going to be enough to help him stand back up.
“Lord no. She’s fine. Or will be shortly.” He looked toward the forecastle, where the fancy cabins were, then returned his gaze to Cord. Then he grinned. “Very shortly.”
“Mar...celle?” he asked.
“Your cousin can’t swim. He didn’t tell us.”
“And that means—”
“Well, he picked a powerfully strange time to try and learn. I tell you, I thought the man had more cunning than that. Jumping overboard like that just to escape a little bleeding.”
“Where is he?”
“Under the waves. Exactly where he placed himself. Didn’t even give me the pleasure of running my blade through him first. Tried to. But he dove off before I got the chance. And velvet isn’t buoyant. Sucks a man right down with the weight of his own fancy coat. He shouldn’t have picked tonight to learn swimming. Coward. To the end.”
“He’s dead?” Cord ask.
“I’d be betting for it. And it’s much better this way.”
“It is?” Cord asked.
“I didn’t kill him. You didn’t kill him. He’s still dead. Much better all around.”
“And Linna?”
Fletch looked toward the fo’c’s’le again, broke into a grin, and nodded. Then he looked at Cord again. “Looks like she’ll be up to visitors soon, lad. Real soon. We got other problems at the moment.”
“Like what? You saying something’s more important than my wife?” His teeth were paining him when he finished, but he didn’t care.
“I’m saying your wife had a little business to finish. Business that doesn’t need men to it. And in the meanwhile, we got a problem. You see, I had paying passengers on this here ship of mine.”
“So?” Cord was getting angry. It helped over-ride everything else. Again.
“Well...my paying passengers are huddled in the fancy parlor, thinking they’re doomed. The poor folks think we’re real pirates.” Rex grinned at the end of his words, and several of the men chuckled. “I was about to pick me an emissary to put their minds to rest. We only want one thing from this ship, and we’ll be gaining it momentarily.”
“I’m finished with talk! I want to see Linna!” The force of words through his teeth hurt, and he had to force his thighs to make the move as he stood. Then he had to lock his knees to remain standing. Little dots were dancing about the edge of the light, too. That was odd.
Fletch ignored him. “I think Drew makes a far better emissary than anyone else. Drew? Take Birdie and go visit the passengers. Let them know we’ve got what we want. They’ll be free of us within the hour. And son?”
Drew halted, swiveled his head, and waited.
“Don’t go flirting with the ladies. Too much, anyway. There’s not a beaut’ in the bunch...worth the effort.”
Drew grimaced and left.
“Can I see Linna now?” Cord asked from between clenched teeth. That had two benefits: made him sound angered and kept the pain to a minimum.
“We’re having a stretcher fashioned for her, lad. It’s not all that difficult and won’t take much time. There’s ripped sailcloth all about. You really should sit down. You’re looking a bit peaked there.”
“A stretcher?” His voice didn’t sound right. And everything was starting to rotate slowly and unevenly in his vision. Cord blinked slowly twice, but everything still waved and wobbled before him. “Why can’t...she walk? Is she hurt?”
“’Course not. We just don’t want anything to happen to her...or that new-birthed son of yours,” Fletch answered.
Cord’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. And then, for the first time in his life, Cord fainted.
EPILOGUE
His child hadn’t been born at the plantation and it hadn’t been a daughter. Cord hadn’t got one bit of that wish, he’d gotten a lot more.
He stood at the balcony of the master bedroom of Plantation Larroquette, looking out over dusk-kissed fields, where flecks dusted the haze, and knew what complete and total happiness felt like. The emotion seemed to originate at his heart and lance through his entire body until he couldn’t focus through the wash of moisture in his eyes.
His namesake, Cordean Rochelle Larroquette, slept in his bassinet beside the master bed, exactly as his mother, the reigning marquise, wished it. Linna wasn’t letting the seven-month-old babe from her sight.
It was a good thing.
The tot was so active now that he’d learned to crawl, it was a constant battle keeping up with him and keeping him safe. Little Cordean didn’t want safety, he wanted everything he saw. And when he got it he put it in his mouth.
It took all their eyes to keep that one safe from himself: Cord’s mother and sisters; Linna’s brother, Drew; her parents, Rex and Elizabeth. Linna hadn’t accepted Rex at first. No one had pushed it. And then one day it happened. She’d called him father, and it had been as natural as any other word.
Cord had to look away at the older man’s reaction as he’d fought back tears. One thing was certain, Rex Fletcher was a changed man. They all were. He doted on his grandson, too, and he was always telling the tot tales of pirates, complete with rampaging, pillaging, and plundering.
Cord wasn’t going to stop him. Rex looked too happy, and it kept little Cordean occupied. Linna was going to need the tot occupied. She was just starting to show the swell of where their new baby was growing. Cord’s hand unerringly went there, every moment it could. She didn’t stop it. She seemed to know how much he needed and loved it. Already.
Cord shuddered in a breath and wondered at such rampant emotion. One thing was certain, he had a heart. It was bursting with pride, joy and contentment. There was nothing better. And then he felt her arms about him from behind, encircling his waist. He grinned.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you more,” he returned, swiveling neatly in her arms.
“I love you most,” she countered, tipping her head to look up at him through her eyelashes. She was putting her lips into the most kissable pout, too.
Cord’s eyebrows raised, and he grinned. “Well...I’ll just have to try harder then,” he answered, and swooped her up into his arms.
Copyright © 2014 by Jackie Ivie
ISBN 978-1-939820-43-3
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
Please Note
on Archive.