The Pirate's Jewel

by Cheryl Howe

She shoved at his shoulders. “Nolan. Please stop.”

  He braced his arms, lifting his weight so he could gaze down at her. “I’m going too fast?” The fire cooled in his eyes as he continued to study her face. “I’m sorry, Jewel. I’ll slow down.”

  He shifted again, and she took the opportunity to slide from beneath him. She braced herself against the ship’s hull and hugged her knees to her chest as a barrier between them. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  He brushed his loose hair from his face. He looked as if he had just been abruptly wakened from a deep sleep. “Because I rushed you. After last night, I thought you would be more…willing.”

  Jewel massaged her forehead, an ache growing behind her eyes. “Not that you’ve said anything to encourage my feelings. And last night was before you told me you killed my father. Is that so strange?”

  His compassionate gaze hardened. “What happened had nothing to do with you.”

  The indignant anger in his voice stirred her own. How dare he sound so wronged? “You knew I was waiting for him to come back and get me. You took that away.”

  Nolan squared his shoulders, and she could see the muscles in his neck bunch with tension. “Bellamy never was coming back for you. The man you’re imagining never existed.”

  Jewel closed her eyes against his words, knowing they were true—but that didn’t change the fact that Bellamy Leggett was her father, and that she’d never found out the kind of man he was for herself. Nolan had stolen that from her. And worse, he seemed unrepentant of the hurt he had caused.

  He got off the bed. “I was honest with you. I told you about Bellamy because I wanted to make the best of a bad situation. You agreed to marry me, and now you act like a petulant child.”

  Jewel scrambled up, clutching the sheet to cover her body. “A petulant child? A bad situation?” She paused, shocked. “Is that all I am to you, a bad situation?”

  Nolan yanked on his pants. He was still fully aroused, and Jewel thought she saw his jaw jump as he fastened the last button at his waist. “It started off like that. But…I want to make this work. Why can’t we just pretend the past never happened?”

  Jewel tugged at his arm as he tried to pull on his shirt. “Because I’m hurt. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “Don’t you think I’m hurt? No. I can’t argue with you any more. There are things I should be doing on deck. We’re going to put into port tomorrow.” He reached down and picked up her nightgown, tossed it to her. “Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

  “Don’t walk out on me. Let’s talk about this.”

  “You don’t want to talk. You just want to condemn me,” he snapped.

  “Because you won’t tell me what happened. Explain things to me, so I can understand. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding, an accident.”

  Nolan held Jewel’s gaze. The slow shake of his head reflected the finality in his fathomless blue eyes. “It wasn’t an accident. I’m not going to tell you about it, because you don’t need to know.” He raked his hands through his hair. “You can’t even touch me anymore because of what I told you. Do you think I’m going to give you more details?”

  Jewel glanced down at her curling toes, unable to take the look of rejection in his eyes. She had lost her father, and now she was losing Nolan. The broken quality in his voice told her she had pushed him too far. She glanced up. She wanted to go to him and wipe away the hurt she saw in his eyes, but she couldn’t. She had too much hurt lingering in her own heart. “Well, are you sorry you did it? Are you at least sorry you killed my father?”

  Nolan’s face became a mask. “No.” He turned and walked out the door.

  ***

  Nolan let the breeze cool his heated body. His loose shirt billowed against him, even its light fabric teasing his charged lust. He cursed himself for rushing Jewel; he had lost his head. But she was his bride. His wife. It was his right to lose himself in her body, and he had been drunk with the knowledge.

  He had conveniently pushed aside the rift between them in anticipation of gorging himself on her flesh. But she hadn’t forgotten. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t stand his touch, and it ripped a hole through his heart more efficiently than Bellamy’s blade could ever do. Jewel’s father had won, and the stolen ring on his daughter’s finger gloated in victory.

  Nolan stared off across the water. Would Bellamy Leggett ever die?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Seeing Wayland sitting on the companionway, his feet resting on the ladder’s top rung, stopped Nolan short before he reached for the ladder leading above deck. He glanced around, looking for a way to avoid him. Ever since they had stopped for supplies on St. Martin, the old pirate had been watching his every move. No doubt Wayland was up to no good, but Nolan had too much on his mind to care.

  He’d been avoiding Jewel, sleeping in a hammock on deck. Not that he’d been an inattentive husband. He’d gone out of his way to try to make sure her meals were better than usual. When Wayland had inadvertently caught a lobster one night, he’d had it prepared especially for Jewel. Though he had dined with her, eating the usual fare of salted meat and biscuit stew, she’d been sullen, eventually admitting she was menstruating.

  Which meant she wasn’t pregnant. There was less of a need to continue with this miserable ordeal that was their marriage. The wedding had yet to be recorded anywhere except in Nolan’s log. It would be just as easy to dissolve the private union as not. Yet that knowledge only alerted Nolan to how much Jewel had come to mean to him. He wanted to make things right with his wife—and before they found any treasure and she decided she wanted out. Getting her with child was the surest way.

  Wayland leaned his head between his knees to yell down at him, distracting Nolan from thoughts of bedding Jewel. “Are you coming up?”

  There was no escape. “Are you moving?” he responded.

  “Actually, Captain, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you, and this seems like as good a time as any.”

  Nolan grabbed the ladder. He would force his way through even if he had to step on Wayland. “I’m busy.”

  The old pirate scrambled out of his path. Once Nolan set foot on the main deck, he made long strides to the quarterdeck. The sun beat through the thin cotton of his shirt, sending a trickle of sweat down between his shoulder blades. Fat cumulus clouds hung suspended in the sky, unruffled by even the slightest breeze, warning that the fierce heat had no intention of abating.

  Wayland stayed on Nolan’s heels, unaffected by Nolan’s desire to be rid of him or the oppressive temperature that silenced even the ship’s caged hens. “Got something to talk about, and I don’t think ya want the whole crew hearing.”

  Nolan stopped abruptly. There were several things Wayland knew that he would rather forget. And several more he didn’t want anyone else to know. “What is it? Be quick. I want to see if the island’s been spotted yet.”

  “That’s just what I wanted to speak to you about. That and your wife—or lack of one, you might say.”

  Nolan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Wayland smiled. “Ya make the perfect pirate captain with those dark brows and your wicked scowl.”

  Nolan had stopped fooling himself he had any willpower left where Jewel was concerned. His present situation proved that. “Tell me what you know about my wife.”

  “Nothing about the girl. You’re the problem. Not many females warm up to a husband who would rather sleep with his crew than his wife.”

  “You don’t know anything about it.” Nolan shaded his eyes and studied the progress of a crewman who’d climbed into the rigging to free a tangled line. The man quickly completed the task, and the sail coughed, and then inhaled enough wind to fill its belly. Nolan glanced back at Wayland.

  Sometime over the last months, the old salt’s weathered visage and mismatched eyes had again become familiar, almost comforting. Not that, even back when Nolan was a lad on Bellamy’s ship, Wayland could have ever been ca
lled anything close to a guardian; it was just that Nolan knew he could always come to Wayland and ask for the brutal truth. Even after Bellamy had stolen his map and assured Nolan it was for his own good, Wayland had told him he’d just been duped. If only Nolan had had the insight to ask whether Bellamy’s friendship could be relied upon, he had no doubt Wayland would have steered him true. “Jewel can’t forgive me for killing her father, and—”

  Wayland cocked his head and studied Nolan. “I don’t believe that. That girl’s too much in love with you to think straight. It’s you who won’t forgive yourself.”

  Nolan swallowed hard. “I wish that were true. But I’m glad I ended Bellamy’s reign of terror. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.”

  “That’s what I mean. You’re not guilty ’cause you did Bellamy in. You feel bad because you’re glad about it. All that Bible schooling your father gave you doesn’t work in the life we lead. You’re judging yourself by a preacher’s standards. Well, a preacher wouldn’t have survived a day on Bellamy Leggett’s ship.”

  Nolan almost laughed, but his humor quickly soured. “You’re wrong about that. Bellamy would have taken great pleasure in ruining such a man’s soul.”

  “That’s what you think Bellamy did to you, eh? I don’t believe it. You’re too strong for that. You did what you wanted and blame Bellamy for leading you there.”

  Nolan’s smile faded. “I never wanted to end up like him.”

  “You didn’t. But you ain’t no choirboy, either. Accept that about yourself, and get on with it. You’re decent enough. Bed your wife. Make things right before it’s too late.”

  “‘Decent enough’ coming from you makes me fear I’m in worse shape than I thought. And as far as my wife is concerned…I don’t intend to force her.”

  Wayland cleared his throat and spit on the deck. “Enough of that talk, lad. Don’t think I don’t remember the fights you and Bellamy got in over the treatment of our women passengers. You wouldn’t hurt any woman, I know. But you don’t have to. Sweet Jesus, why do you think just because you got a little fire in your veins that you’re the devil himself? Just show her you’re interested. Show her that fire.”

  Nolan crossed his arms over his chest. As much as he longed to believe Wayland, he couldn’t trust the man any more than he could his own lust-clouded thoughts. Especially not on the subject of bedding his wife. “I don’t need moralizing from you. What do you mean, before it’s too late?”

  Wayland poked him hard in the chest. “You better set things right with your woman afore we get to the island. There are ghosts there, and they’re liable to haunt you more than Jewel.”

  Nolan ignored what would have been a physical challenge from any other man. How did Wayland know so much about his marriage? He knew things Nolan hadn’t even admitted to himself.

  Nolan forced himself to ask his next question with a trace of mockery, though he secretly hoped for a real answer. “And how do you suggest to make things right with a woman who abhors my touch? My mere presence makes her think of her dead father.”

  “Bah. That’s in your head.”

  Nolan raked his fingers through his hair. “Believe me, it’s not.” Whenever he was around Jewel, rational thought escaped him. A more aggressive and demanding part of his anatomy took over, driving him to be all the things he hated. His passions ruled. But still he saw her fear, her loathing.

  “Make your wife yours, lad. Don’t let Bellamy come between you. Stop looking for Jewel to forgive you for something you had to do. Force her hand. Take her guilt away.”

  Nolan shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  Wayland put his hands on his hips. “Be ruthless. You got it in you. Seduce her. Be firm with her. Just do what you have to do. And don’t let her take on the guilt for something she had nothing to do with. Of course she feels bad about lying with her father’s killer. She’s a softhearted woman with way too much love and forgiveness.”

  Nolan stared at the deck. “You’re right. I don’t deserve her.”

  “At last we agree on something. You don’t deserve her—not the way you’re acting now, so you better start being a better man. It’s obvious the chit loves you, though why is a mystery to me. We both know Bellamy was a rotten father. He’ll only hurt the girl more if you give him the chance. You, on the other hand, are her husband. And you could be a good one. Give her what she wants—a man who loves her. She wants to love you. Let her. Be man enough to take on the guilt, and love her till she’s too senseless to even think of the no-good father who deserted her.”

  Nolan’s head reeled with Wayland’s words. He had been wanting Jewel’s absolution. The realization left him feeling small and selfish. It wasn’t Jewel’s responsibility to absolve him from the guilt that still crept upon him every time he thought of what he had done to Bellamy.

  Yet Wayland’s advice sounded too good to be true. And since it was coming from Wayland, it probably was. In the past, Wayland had always championed Bellamy. Suspicion clouded Nolan’s burst of hope. “Don’t let Bellamy do more harm to his daughter? What happened to not speaking ill of the dead?”

  Wayland grinned. “A sudden interest in the living.”

  Nolan didn’t ask for any more information. He didn’t care. The old pirate had helped him open his eyes, no matter his motives. At his first opportunity, Nolan would make Jewel his wife in reality. He would no longer expect her to come to him without doubts. He would kiss away those doubts. He would no longer expect her to turn against her childhood image of a man who didn’t exist. He would give her one who did.

  Nolan felt he’d just been released from a gibbet. “Climb up to the crow’s nest with me and let’s see if our course is right,” he said to Wayland. He started walking in the direction of the main mast.

  The bustle of excited shouts reached them before they found their destination. Nolan quickened his pace to discover the cause for excitement. He hadn’t expected to find the island just yet, but there were some narrow straits that could point them in the right direction.

  Parker had climbed a quarter of the way up the mast. He held on to a step and leaned out. A spyglass was fixed to his eye, and he focused on something left of the horizon.

  “What is it, Mr. Tyrell?” Nolan called.

  Parker lowered the glass. “I hoped the watchman was wrong. It’s a ship. Take a look yourself.”

  Parker tossed down the telescope. Nolan caught it in one hand and brought it to his eye. The ship was a sloop, faster than the Integrity but surely not as well armed. He didn’t see any reason for concern. Even if it were British, he doubted it would be bold enough to attack. Nolan scanned the length of the vessel. His gaze stopped at the black-and-white flag flying on her stern.

  Pirates!

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As the hours passed, the pirate ship’s approach went from a slow creep on the horizon to the speed of a dolphin slicing through the water. Sunset was upon them. The other vessel would be at their side before the turquoise sea extinguished the sun’s last fiery rays. Nolan rubbed his bristled chin. His beard itched, but his gruff appearance would help his plan. He prayed he wouldn’t see the approach of another ship in the distance. He could handle one. Two might defeat him, and he couldn’t be defeated.

  The Integrity kept her course. Out-running the other ship was a futile effort. And one didn’t have to be a former pirate to know how angry pirates became when forced to chase or fight. Total submission was always expected, for it was received most of the time. Once the pirates showed their standard, captains surrendered in hopes of better treatment. Nolan had firsthand experience with pirates’ “leniency.” He wouldn’t take the risk.

  Jewel had wandered onto the deck earlier in the day, and Nolan had sent her below with a brisk command. He couldn’t risk her being spotted. The last thing he wanted was for the pirates to know he had a woman on board. With Wayland at his side, Nolan hoped to convince their pursuers he had gone on the account, returned to his former lif
e. Bellamy had had quite a reputation in the brethren of pirates. Nolan had shared in those exploits, even had a few of his own.

  Though pirates weren’t as keen on brotherhood as on getting what they could with the least amount of effort, Nolan might be able to avoid a fight with the lure of joining efforts to pick off other merchant vessels—a proposal he would never keep. But more than likely, if the other ship thought him a fierce foe, their day would be won without a shot, and that would keep other sea rovers from thinking them easy prey. Nolan planned to prove himself fiercer than any pirate past or present.

  He discarded his blue coat and opened his white shirt to the middle of his chest. With the sleeves turned up to his elbow, his hair falling around his shoulders, he fit the image the other ship expected. A large gold earring the size of a child’s wrist, one Wayland had stashed, completed the facade. Even better would have been procuring a jeweled cross or something equally decadent. Such obvious greed for plunder was a highly admired trait among pirates. The hole in Nolan’s lobe had grown closed, but he’d reopened it with a little encouragement. He only wished he had a Jolly Roger to raise.

  While back in Boston, the idea of ever flying under the black flag again had been unthinkable. But nothing had gone as he had planned since leaving. At this point, he was open to anything. He’d avoid a battle if he could…yet he had no qualms about blowing the other ship out of the water, if it came to that. Nothing would be too drastic to keep Jewel from falling into the approaching ship’s hands.

  He waited, letting the oncoming pirates decide their own fate, with a sinking suspicion about their presence. The white skull with crossed swords underneath, emblazoned against a black background, was unremarkable. Several pirates flew such varying versions of the skull-and-crossbones.

  He glanced at Wayland again. The pirate swore he had nothing to do with the ship on their tail, but he had been acting strange ever since St. Martin. Had the man set a trap in order to steal the map? Did that make sense?