He led her down another tunnel, and suddenly, they were in the room with the orchestra and a smattering of dancers. This floor there was smooth and polished. But the room held the same magic. Subdued lighting, sparkling bits of quartz, and hushed alcoves hinted of lover’s meetings. She let the magic seep into her.
They stepped into the room and he lifted her glass away and handed it to a man standing nearby. He nodded to the orchestra, and they quickly ended the tune they were playing and a waltz began. A studied slow waltz.
She knew how to waltz. She had taken lessons, but never found the relaxation and confidence to enjoy the music and flow with it.
“I’m not terribly good at….”
He took her hand and gazed into her face. He wore no hat with this ensemble. His hair fell in waves to his elbows. The few bits of dark blond stood out from the fall of silver. She looked to her side in the formal manner she’d been taught by the dance master until Alan spoke. “Look at me, Emily. Please.”
“Okay.” Turning her head, she inhaled, and suddenly they were moving. She stumbled once, but his power and confidence soared into her and she let go. The shoes whispered to her. Let us! Let us! And she surrendered, not the strangest thing she’d experienced since arriving here. Let the shoes do the dancing.
He led, the shoes followed and she glided along.
They waltzed slowly, gradually building speed as they moved across the floor. There were other dancers, but once Emily and Silvestri spun and whirled the rest backed away, leaving the dance floor, and standing in a circle to admire them.
He watched her, those sapphire eyes sharp, yet warm at the same time. Blue was a cold color, right? Not his. She melted into his arms and those eyes. They whirled, spun, following the music to a sweet unity.
One, two, three. One, two, three. Her skirt swirled out in a graceful sweep. Her back arched, thrusting her pelvis close to his, and she flushed. One corner of his mouth lifted, one eyebrow. He took a decisive step forward, inserting his thigh neatly betwixt her legs. She obediently stepped back, albeit reluctant to do so. He released her hand, and she spun in a circle under his raised arm.
He pulled her back and continued to circle.
One, two, three. One, two, three.
Damn, what would it be like to tango with this man?
The music reached its crescendo, then slowed. Her heart calmed while the frantic circling eased with sweet deliberation. He held her closer, drawing their extended arms to tuck against his chest. The music faded away.
Her breath stilled, as she became totally lost in his arms. Without thought of where they were or who might be watching, they kissed. She wrapped her arms around him and sank into the passion binding them together. She clung to him, wanting him with a matched desperation and a calm knowingness, a deep chime of belonging rang inside her.
Very slowly, the kiss ended, as they pulled from each other, releasing the contact reluctantly. She sighed, turned her face and set her head upon his chest. She opened her eyes, focus gradually returning only to see that directly across the floor stood Captain Jezebel, with Mick at her side, and the crew spread out behind them.
Her heart froze.
Chapter Nineteen
She pushed Alan away, terrified at the exposure. How to get out of this? And Mick, fuck it! The look on his face did not bode well for either her or Silvestri. “Damn. Alan, you need to get out of here. Now.”
“What?” he crooned at her. Until his glance lifted and he saw what she gazed at. His voice grew heavy, sounding of grief. “Oh, hell. My luck plays with us. You will be safe. Jezebel will see to it.” He touched her face, turned and hurried away before she said another word.
“Coward!” Mick’s voice carried over the new music. “Face me!”
Emily took several steps toward Mick, who was being held back by Jezebel. His gaze shifted to her. “You ungrateful, treacherous bitch.”
“I’m sorry, Mick. It was never my intention to hurt you. I’ll gather my belongings and leave the ship.” She nodded at Jezebel. “Captain.” She stepped around Mick and headed for the exit, hoping she could find her way out of the grotto. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held them from falling. Standing straight, she walked like she owned the floor. She was not ashamed. Her back was straight, her chest thrust forward and she kept her eyes lifted. This is a good thing, she kept repeating to herself. No more lies, no more hiding. It is time to move forward. This was hard, but it wasn’t impossible
Too bad the expression on Mick’s face didn’t echo her sentiments. She finally got someone to point her toward the main door to the outside stairs. She hit the fresh air and took a moment to just breathe.
“Pawes? Captain Jezebel directed me to stay with you.”
She turned to see Davis at her side.
“You don’t want to miss the party—I’m fine. Ready to leave anyway, tired of pretending….”
He took her arm. “Orders are orders, Pawes.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Fine. He brought me here via some back street route, I’m not even sure how to get back to the port.”
She appreciated his silence while he led her along a surprisingly short route to where the ships were anchored. He took the oars of a small boat, called a cutter, and helped her to the deck—even followed her to her cabin. She pulled out the largest basket she possessed and gathered items. Her book-binding supplies, the small things she’d bought in the various ports they’d visited. She even tucked Tink’s obscene carving into the basket.
Next, she gathered up her few items of clothing. When she turned to leave, Davis stood in her way.
“Pawes, my orders included keeping you on the ship.”
She studied him. He was her friend, but he also obeyed orders. He didn’t seem to care for these orders, but he met her eyes and didn’t apologize.
“On the ship? What am I—a prisoner? You can’t keep me here!” She tried to push past him, but he was as impossible to break through as a brick wall.
“I’m afraid I can. I don’t believe they mean to force you to stay if you don’t want to, but Mick will want to question you. And Jezebel—she’ll want answers, too.” He touched her face. “Is it bad being here?”
She took a step back. “I love him. I know I can’t be with him all the time, because of the curse. But I can be ready for when he can come ashore. I’ll take whatever time I can get.”
The words surprised even her. Had she told Alan she loved him? She wasn’t sure. Her heart accepted she loved him, but had the words actually crossed her lips? She hoped they had.
“Pawes, even I recognized you care for him. But you’ve managed to meet with him regularly and stay on the ship. Why must that change?” He smiled at her. “You always came back from being off-ship with contentment pouring from your skin. I’m happy for you.”
“They aren’t—Mick, I mean, or Jezebel.”
“The Captain might surprise you, Pawes. And Mick will bend to her will, surrender his own agenda if she commands it.”
She studied him, this man who taught her blades, who helped her with almost everything she attempted on the ship. He never lied to her. Setting the basket down, she tossed her bag on the bed.
“You’re not going to let me leave. And if they stay for the entire party it’s going to be hours and hours.” She glanced down at the dress, a bit rumpled from getting to the ship. “I can get out of this by myself, but some help would make it easier. Will you untie the back for me? I’ll change and maybe see what is available in the galley?” He’d always been an ally; she wasn’t going to challenge him now. And perhaps Cookie left out some rum. She could use more alcohol.
She’d leave the ship tomorrow, find a room and see if Sam would let her work the bar, for tips if nothing else. It would be enough.
***
Jezebel caught him in the room where Emily dressed. He bent down to gather the tattered sandals. He’d see them into the pack and back to the Quill. She’d need them….
“Wha
t have you been doing, Silvestri? And what in the hell were you doing here? Now? With her?”
He turned and smiled at the fierce Captain Jezebel. He remembered when she’d first come through a portal. All spit and vinegar, barely a woman yet. But she’d gone on to conquer Tortuga in record time. No one knew what to do with her. She dominated every man she took to bed and drew strong women to her with a magnetism that brooked no argument. She captained a ship of her own before two years passed.
“Jezebel, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you. I hear the ship is doing well.” His attempt at small talk fell flat. She glared at him. He turned and continued to pack up Emily’s items.
“Don’t try to avoid me. I’ve got Tink and Janey out there holding Mick back. You are not supposed to be here—that is the deal!”
“The deal. Yes. I am sorry. I didn’t intend to be seen. I but craved one dance with her. My spies reported you lingering at the Barmy Cock. My sentries at the entrance failed to alert me of your arrival, obviously. The Immortal is over at Hockster Bay, and I’ll be gone before the dawn.”
She growled and blocked the door when he turned to go. He held out the bag. “Will you see this is returned to Mrs. Pawes?”
“Put it down. I’ll see she gets it.” The savvy captain met his eyes. “Shit. She intends to leave the ship. She’ll find a room and wait for stolen moments with you, I’m certain. I won’t stop her. You make sure she has good lodgings, she’s been a good sailor.”
“Keep her on the ship, Jezebel, please?” He pulled out a chair and offered it to her. She sat and he took another, across from her. “I’m looking to end this curse, Jez. But I might fail. Keep Mick close, and Pawes. She dodged the curse, too. Tried to shoot me at the baths. If I lose, it might take aim at them. Keep her for at least a month. You’ve bound that ship with enough spells; it should keep them both safe.”
Jezebel eyed him a moment, sighed. “She isn’t going to understand. She’ll fight. But you’ve kept your word and stayed away from the Quill, so I’ll do it. Mick is going to beat on her bad.” Jezz crossed her arms leaned back.
He admired her outfit. Pure black, so dark it sucked light from the room. No color save for a bit of red trim at the sleeves and bodice. Yet she glowed at the center of it. Captain Jezebel, a formidable woman.
“Pawes can handle Mick. Keep that wolf close to her, he seems level-headed.” Silvestri saw the bare twitch at the corner of her lips. Yes, he knew about her crew. He was well aware that Davis was from the forest werewolf pack. He knew more of her crew than she knew of his.
She tilted her head. “Why do you care about Mick, Alan? I know you two were friends, but it’s more than that. The look you shot his way? That was pain. You two lovers?”
Silvestri grinned. “That would fit the box you have us in, wouldn’t it, Jez?” He snorted and shook his head. “No, not lovers.” He considered if it was time to reveal the truth to her. If he didn’t come back, she’d be the only one to know. She would explain it to Mick.
He held up his arm and used it to cover his lower face. His hand did the same for the space above his eyes. He leaned close to the fierce pirate captain. “Look familiar?”
She froze, her eyes narrowed, then she blinked. He knew when she realized it. “He’s blood!”
“Yes. That man he called father wasn’t his father. Nor am I. I am his elder brother. Our father was a true libertine who seduced Mick’s mother and got her pregnant. She never told her husband, but he knew, knew Mick wasn’t his. Figured it out and threw it in my face when I tried to convince the idiot to leave the gambling halls. Mick suspected Daniel wasn’t his father. Used to joke about it those months he spent risking my curse for his own greed. Neither of us thought we were brothers.” He dropped his hands. “If I disappear, my solicitor will transfer most of my holdings to Mick. Explain why, Jezebel.”
“Nothing for Mrs. Pawes?” Jezzie looked away. She never was one to easily address sentiment. “I saw that dance. That kiss. She is desperately in love. Exactly as you are with her.”
It did his heart good to hear the later words. But he didn’t reply to them. “What I have set aside for her will see her free to live here, a rich woman.”
“And if you do return? Without a curse? Mick will have nothing to hold back for.”
“He holds back for one reason now. He knows he’s wrong. He doesn’t understand it, but he knows he’s wrong. His father played him a fool and started a vendetta where none exists. I have proof of my part in keeping that idiot from dying in prison. When Mick is ready to listen, I’ll present it to him.”
“He holds back because I make sure our ships do not cross!” She peered at him. “Don’t fool yourself that he doesn’t hate you.”
“I believe he hates me. But he doesn’t know why. And Mick is a pragmatic man. Leave it to me, Jezebel. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a letter to write. I will send it to you on the Quill. Please, give it to her only if I do not return.”
Jezebel stood and held out her hand. They shook. She turned to the door and reached for the bag. She didn’t turn as she spoke softly. “Why her? Why now?”
“An Old Monster intervened. And I run out of time to break this curse or be broken by it.”
“The Kraken brought her here?”
“I believe so and Mama Lu confirms it. I have seen the Old Monster. Mama Lu is assisting me, to end this. I have a little over a week to see it done. I would explain more, but my luck is finally running out.”
“How many times did you manage to meet with her?” Jezzie turned to look at him a she opened the door. “You toyed with her?”
“It began lightly. The way most great things do. The same as with you and Mick.”
She walked hurriedly away. She wouldn’t hear of loving Mick. Though the depth of her love glowed like the full moon in the night sky. That was Jezebel’s way, it always had been.
He turned to the small desk, pulled out a sheet of paper and sat, considering the right choice of words to tell Emily goodbye.
Chapter Twenty
Emily fell asleep before the rest returned. Davis had assisted her in removing her dress, then stepped outside the cabin while she dressed in the cleanest of her sailor’s duds. He’d accompanied her to the galley, where they found some fresh bread, butter and cold, roast chicken.
He didn’t speak, and she was thankful for that. Hours passed. They shared a bottle of rum and the drink made her sleepy, finally left her ready to return to her cabin.
She woke to feel the ship moving. Jerking from the bed, she turned to the door, only to see Mick poised on a chair just inside her small cabin. He blocked the open door, one foot propped on the doorframe. His arms crossed, he glared at her, dark and foreboding.
“Damn it, Mick. I said I’d leave. Let me out of here before we leave port!”
He didn’t move, even when she took a step toward him.
“Too late, false friend. You aren’t going anywhere until Captain Jezebel and I are satisfied. Reconcile yourself to that fact.”
“What? You can’t keep me here!” Heart pounding, she took another small step closer to him. She reached out and tentatively pushed at his leg, blocking her way. He didn’t budge. “Captain Michael, please. I’ve been a good sailor. I’ve followed orders. I…I saved Jezebel’s life! Let me go!”
“No.” He slowly stood, shoved the chair out the door. “Don’t try to curry favor with me. Consider your story, Mrs. Pawes. We’ll send for you at our convenience.”
She jerked her head back just in time to miss being slapped by the door as Mick slammed it shut.
“You bastard! Let me out of here! It happened! Nothing planned! I love him! MICK!” Sagging against the door, she tried to open it, but found it barred from the outside. She hadn’t known that was possible.
She pounded on it. “Davis? Davis! Let me out!” She sank to the deck, astounded at the turn of events.
“Yes, let her out, Davis. Some use your talented nose turned out to be. I wonder how man
y times she crawled from his bed to our ship without raising your hackles! I thought you wolves could scent a mouse from a mile away.” Mick’s derision carried through the door.
“I’ve never met the man, Captain Mick. I knew she took a lover, but that was her business. I work your sails, sir. I’m not your dog.”
A bark of laughter answered that. She heard boots tread away.
“Davis?” She softly spoke to the crack in the door. “Davis?”
“I’m here, Pawes.”
His bare feet were visible at the bottom of the door. “You spied on me?” she asked, her heart aching. He was her friend!
“No, I watched over you. I knew you met someone, but he made you happy. Your scent changed, from worried and nervous to calm and content. It still doesn’t matter to me that it was Silvestri. I know he made you glow. Nothing else matters.”
“My scent?” Her head whirled. “Mick called you a wolf?”
“I’m a werewolf. You didn’t know? It’s not a secret, Pawes.”
Inside the cabin, Emily shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I suppose. Thank you for being my friend. Can you get me out of here? Please!”
“We’re at sea, Pawes. They won’t keep you aboard against your will for long. Be patient and you’ll be set ashore soon.”
“I’m…scared. He is so angry,” she whispered.
“Be brave.”
She finally let herself cry. Again and again, she’d kept herself from a wet hysteria, but now she broke free. Curling up on the wooden floor, she sobbed. One hand held the pendant he’d given her as she worried he would try to rescue her. Worried he wouldn’t.
She heard the crew come by, asking Davis about her. Janey tried to talk through the door, but Emily crawled back to her cot and stared into the dimness, too tired to formulate thoughts.
Hours passed before the door opened. Davis held out his hand, offering her company. “They want to see you. Privy first?”
“Yes.” Her fifty-three years weighed her down as she rolled off the bed. She took his hand and leaned on him. He allowed her the time she needed to freshen up. Washing her face, she stared at her reflection in the small mirror. The glorious vision from last night was gone. She’d pulled the combs free the night before and tucked them carefully into her basket. Her hair no longer shone, it stuck up at odd angles, and the gray seemed more prominent than ever before. And it was dull, lifeless. Her eyes revealed signs of tears.
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