The Captain's Revenge

by Nadine Millard

  Sanderson knew it, too, for he quickly took over. Barking instructions at the crewmen who were carrying the tub Lucas had asked for, he swiftly entered the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

  “Captain,” he said firmly, calmly, kneeling beside Lucas. “I’ve sent for the ship’s surgeon. He’ll be here directly.”

  Lucas could only nod, his fingers still stroking her face.

  “Captain,” Sanderson spoke again, his tone gentle and careful. “H-have you checked for a pulse?”

  Lucas turned to glare at him. “She’s not dead,” he growled, though the truth was he hadn’t checked.

  Sanderson seemed to sense that he hadn’t, for the steward reached over and pressed his fingers to her wrist. The look of relief on the man’s face nearly had Lucas passing out.

  “A good, steady pulse,” Sanderson said with a smile. “Let’s move her to the bunk, shall we?”

  Lucas nodded grimly. “I’ll do it,” he said when Sanderson went to help.

  The other man stepped back.

  Lucas gathered Anna’s limp body to his own and stood, keeping his eyes averted from the stain on the rug, lest he do something foolish like throw up or cry.

  Anna groaned slightly, and he’d never been so relieved to hear a sound in his entire life.

  A knock sounded on the door, immediately followed by the entrance of Dr. Philips, another man Lucas had known from the Navy who had come to work for him.

  Lucas supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by the crowd of men who had arrived with the surgeon, and who were gathered in the cramped hallway outside.

  Studiously ignoring the lot of them, he placed Anna gently on the bunk then turned and closed the door after Philips, ignoring the cries of protest and questions about whether Miss Anna, as the crew had come to call her, was well.

  Lucas moved back to hover over the doctor’s shoulder until the man finally turned to him with practiced patience and a sigh.

  “Captain, you must give me room to work,” he said firmly.

  Lucas wanted to argue.

  “It will be best for Miss Spencer,” the doctor said, his tone brooking no argument.

  Lucas muttered an oath but moved back. A fraction.

  Dr. Phillips sighed again. “Perhaps you might find yourself a stiff drink somewhere, Captain,” he suggested, though it sounded more like an order.

  “I have a drink here,” Lucas shot back mutinously, but when he turned, he could see that his decanter had smashed to smithereens.

  “Fine,” he gritted. “But you come and get me the second you’re finished,” he warned.

  “Of course,” Phillips replied smoothly, then turned his back, effectively dismissing him.

  Lucas stomped from the room and pushed his way wordlessly through the men outside. “Get back to your work,” he barked over his shoulder before making his way to the galley.

  He knew Frank kept bottles of that Irish spirit of his tucked away somewhere. Lucas had experienced it once, and it had nearly taken his head clean off.

  That was what he needed now.

  On his way to the galley, he encountered that Doyle fellow skulking around. Immediately Lucas’ hackles rose again.

  “What are you doing?” he barked.

  Doyle’s brows rose. “I’m in the crow’s nest this evening, Cap’n,” the man responded. “I’ve just finished a meal. Some sustenance before I take up my post.”

  Lucas eyed the man intently before nodding. “Be on your way, then,” he said.

  He made a note once more to look more closely into the man’s background once they reached Barbados.

  Bryant had reported nothing of interest about the man, having spoken to the rest of the crew. But still Lucas felt uneasy about him. His gut was telling him that there was something off about the stranger, and he relied on his gut more than facts and evidence at the best of times.

  And given the fact that the man’s reputation was exemplary, Lucas was even more distrustful. Sailors were no angels, and Doyle’s clean sheet seemed too good to be true.

  Lucas also had to begin his investigations for the Crown into this shady character of theirs trading slaves on these shores.

  Could it be that this Doyle was involved somehow?

  He could prove nothing until he invesitigated properly, but it was a possibility and that troubled him greatly.

  However, none of that seemed important in the face of what had happened to Anna.

  His stomach clenched at the memory of her lying there on the ground. That image would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  And the journal…

  Lucas entered the galley and was surprised to see Frank calmly smoking his pipe, seeming unfazed by the drama unfolding around him.

  He took one look at Lucas before wordlessly moving to one of his many cabinets. He produced a crude bottle and two glasses then proceeded to pour a healthy measure into each, still without speaking a word.

  Lucas took his glass, raised it in silent thanks, then downed the contents in one gulp. It burned a trail down his throat, and he had to force himself not to cough like a green lad who couldn’t handle his spirits.

  “What did you say this stuff was called again?” he rasped.

  “Poitín,” Frank answered smoothly.

  Lucas nodded, and both men remained silent for a spell.

  “You heard what happened to Anna?” Lucas asked quietly, his eyes fixed on his now-empty glass.

  Frank picked up the bottle and poured them both another measure. “Aye,” he answered simply.

  Lucas felt a surge of anger at the man’s lack of concern, but when he looked at Frank’s face, he saw tension there.

  The man was concerned. He was just more adept at hiding it than Lucas.

  Frank had always been a kindly, stoic sort of person. He had been an immeasurable help to Lucas as a boy, guiding him and, Lucas had realised many years later, keeping him safe from the unsavoury characters that ships’ crews inevitably drew.

  In many ways, the man was a father of sorts.

  Suddenly Lucas found himself blurting out the whole sorry tale of his past with Anna, his recent discovery, and now the fear that she’d read what he’d said about her in his journal.

  Frank remained silent for the duration, and when Lucas finally quietened, Frank just looked steadfastly at him.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “You’re an amadán,” he stated casually.

  Frank often slipped into his native tongue, and usually it was to insult someone, so Lucas was fairly confident he’d just been called something none too complimentary.

  “A fool,” he clarified in the face of Lucas’, no doubt, blank look. “But then,” Frank continued, “the lass is probably one, too, since it’s as plain as the nose on my face that she loves you.”

  Lucas fought a sudden lump in his throat at the words.

  “She did,” he said morosely.

  Frank sighed and sat back casually, as though they were merely discussing the weather.

  As though Lucas wasn’t sitting here freezing and dripping wet, waiting to hear if his world was about to come crashing down around him.

  For even when he believed Anna hadn’t loved him, she’d been alive. She’d still been in the world. He could still gaze at her, if only from a distance.

  Now…

  He couldn’t imagine living in a world that she wasn’t a part of.

  “If the lady can believe you left her alone all those years ago, and were the reason she’d ended up with the life and the marriage she had, and still love you, then she can surely forgive one madcap scheme that you never planned to follow through on,” Frank said sagely.

  “That makes sense,” Lucas said, the first flutterings of hope making themselves known in his chest.

  “Ah,” said Frank. “Well, in that case, perhaps things won’t work out for you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’ve never known a woman to do anything that makes sense, not when it come
s to matters of the heart.”

  And Lucas felt bleak all over again.

  ANNA’S HEAD WAS still pounding, even now, two days later.

  They were only hours from docking in this new, strange land where she’d had romantic and whimsical notions of spending blissful years with Lucas.

  What an idiot she was.

  Lucas had been attentive, bordering on smothering, since her fall. He had begged, pleaded, explained things to her.

  And it made not an iota of a difference.

  She believed him when he said that he wouldn’t have gone through with his terrible plan. But she also believed he had only changed his mind when he knew the truth about what her father had done.

  She, on the other hand, had never wanted to hurt him so viciously, even when she’d thought he had abandoned her all those years ago.

  And that was the difference. She had always loved him too much to want to hurt him.

  But he obviously didn’t feel the same.

  Anna felt trapped, unable to move from the cabin as her head still pounded relentlessly, and she was still unsteady on her feet.

  She had no idea where she would go when they left the ship, what she would do.

  What an immature fool she had been to think she could strike out completely alone in a foreign land. Right now, she longed desperately for England, for her home, for her family.

  Lucas was convinced that Jonathan had set sail and followed her. If his suspicions were correct, Jonathan would be en route right now, though she had no idea how long such a thing would take.

  She supposed, if she could find respectable lodgings somewhere, she may just be able to sit and wait for him to come and take her home.

  It might make her pathetic and weak, where Evelyn and Gabrielle were strong. But she wasn’t like them. Those ladies would take the situation in hand and find a way to rise to the occasion.

  Anna, on the other hand, sat here miserable and alone.

  The door opened, distracting her from her jumbled thoughts, and Lucas entered with yet another tray. The man was bloody constantly feeding her, she thought irritably.

  “Good morning,” Lucas said brightly, and Anna glowered at him, for there was nothing good about it.

  “I brought you breakfast.”

  “You brought me breakfast an hour ago,” Anna replied stiffly.

  “But you didn’t eat it,” Lucas replied. “And if you don’t eat this, I’ll bring another tray. Then another, and another, and—”

  Anna’s scowl quietened him.

  Lucas sighed, placing the tray on the table in the room.

  “Sweetheart, please eat something. Some toast, at least. You can even hate me for the entire time that you’re eating,” he added with a sheepish smile.

  She wouldn’t be charmed by him. Not by those deep blue eyes, or that rogue lock of hair across his forehead. Not by the defined muscles she could see through the linen shirt, since he hadn’t donned a jacket that morning.

  “Don’t you have a ship to captain?” she bit out.

  “I’m staying with you, as I’ve already told you. Bryant has it in hand.”

  “Afraid I’ll uncover more of your evil little secrets?” Anna lashed at him. She didn’t know why she was behaving in such a manner.

  The sensible thing to do would be to remain polite but aloof and then walk away with her head in the air and her pride cloaking her in its protection.

  But she couldn’t help snipping at him.

  Her life had gone from miserable to wonderful to a big fat mess all in the space of these past few days.

  The thought made her teary.

  And that was another thing. This watering pot she was turning into was the outside of enough.

  “Anna…” Lucas sat on the edge of the bunk and grasped her hand. “…you have no idea how much I regret what I wrote, what I intended. It sickens me to think of anyone hurting you, let alone me.”

  Anna raised a brow, hoping she looked sophisticated and disdainful but realising she probably looked bedraggled and pale after her silly accident and subsequent bed rest.

  “I wrote that before—”

  “Before you knew the truth,” she interrupted, though they’d had this conversation a hundred times.

  “No, dammit. I had decided long before the truth came out that I couldn’t treat you in such a fashion.”

  Anna wanted to believe him. Her foolish heart was begging her to. “So, what changed your mind?” she asked tentatively.

  “You did,” he responded intently. “How wonderful you are. How beautiful and kind. Charming and intelligent.”

  Anna felt herself blush and willed herself to remain steely and unmoved in the face of his confession.

  It did seem terribly heartfelt, however.

  “Even before I admitted to myself that I was as crazily, stupidly, wholeheartedly in love with you as ever before, and probably more so, I knew I couldn’t hurt you like that.”

  Oh, Lord.

  That was harder to stay unmoved by.

  Anna swallowed but bit her tongue, lest her heart make her blurt something like forgiveness.

  “Please, let me prove it to you. Let me make it up to you. I would spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’ll do anything, Anna. I swear it.”

  She wanted to believe him. Desperately. But Anna had had time to think about the future during these past days when she’d been bedridden. And the sparkle of a new, exciting life was dulling steadily.

  If I stay here, if I allow myself to be with Lucas, what will become of me?

  There may be other ladies that she could befriend, but there may not be.

  Lucas would be busy with his work.

  Anna was likely to be alone a lot of the time.

  That wasn’t a life that she wanted.

  Her head was pounding in earnest now, and she raised a hand to press against her temple.

  “Phillips gave me a drop of laudanum for you. To help you sleep through the pain.”

  “No,” she answered immediately. The stuff made her sick. Besides, she wanted her wits about her.

  “I—ah, I would prefer some tea and toast,” she added grudgingly, as a compromise of sorts. Because she knew he would badger her about the laudanum otherwise.

  Lucas seemed so happy that she was willing to eat that he didn’t argue with her refusal of the drug.

  “Here you go.”

  Lucas clucked and fussed like a mother hen, and Anna fought the thought that he was utterly adorable.

  She managed a slice of toast and two cups of tea, but he was being so lovely, and she was finding it harder and harder not to throw herself into his arms.

  “I’d like to sleep now,” she lied.

  “Of course,” he answered. “I have things to attend to. I’ll return when we’re ready to disembark.”

  He placed a swift kiss on her brow then quickly swept from the room, all business once again.

  Anna inhaled swiftly.

  She couldn’t quite believe she was here.

  She allowed herself a tiny smile. Even if she turned straight back around to England with her tail between her legs, she would always be a little bit proud of herself that she had done something so adventurous.

  Jonathan, of course, wouldn’t be proud. Nor would Andrew, who treated her like a little sister. But she had a feeling Evelyn and Gabrielle would think it marvellous.

  But then, she had potentially thrown away the chance to ever really discuss it with them, should they decide not to come for her.

  Letters twice a year just wouldn’t allow them to have any sort of relationship to think of. And that thought made her morose all over again.

  LUCAS WATCHED THE hustle and bustle as his ship came safely in to dock.

  The shipping company had men waiting at the harbour, and the merchandise would be removed and return goods loaded immediately.

  Time was money, as his partner always said.

  Usually Lucas was completely focused on this task,
as well as others. But his mind was in the cabin below him.

  It was killing him that Anna was so standoffish. It was killing him to know how much she distrusted him now.

  If only he could make her see, make her believe him when he said he’d never have left her frightened and alone.

  He’d been a selfish, cruel bastard to even think such a thing, and now he was paying the price. He could only hope that she wouldn’t reject him for good. He didn’t think he could handle such a thing.

  “You must be excited, Captain,” Bryant spoke beside him. “A new venture for you. No more sailing the high seas.”

  Lucas gave a tight smile in response.

  He had been excited about it. Now, it didn’t really matter.

  He had no idea if Anna would be part of this new life of his. If she would want to be.

  “It must be wonderful,” Bryant continued. “The idea of starting a new life in a new world.”

  Lucas was barely listening. He had just spotted Ambrose Hastings, his business partner, coming on board, and he needed to immediately speak about Lloyd’s mission to the man and Bryant.

  If anything was going on around the Caribbean, Ambrose knew about it. And the sooner he got things moving on that, the sooner he could concentrate on fixing what he’d broken between Anna and him.

  “Yes, very exciting,” Lucas replied now, more to stop Bryant rambling on about it than anything else. “You know me. I abhor anything traditional. Come, let us speak to Hastings. I need to start this investigation sooner rather than later.”

  He set off to meet his partner, Bryant trailing behind.

  He didn’t like the sound of this rogue pirate who was terrorising these shores, not least because Anna would be living on them, hopefully with him.

  “I ABHOR ANYTHING traditional.”

  Anna tried not to obsess over Lucas’ words, but they were yet another knife in her gut.

  What can be more traditional than a wife? Starting a family?

  In point of fact, they could have already started that family, couldn’t they?

  A dreadful thought reared its head as she thought about the nights they had spent together. Surely he would not be so cruel.

  Has his planned revenge been even more dastardly than I read?