“Fine,” the Hawk said. He turned, captured her hand elegantly, and kissed it with courtly finesse. “Milady, I stand forever at your service. My promise is my vow, as I am sure that yours shall be.”
His eyes sought hers quickly, and then he was gone. She was left to Robert’s care.
“We should leave now, and quickly,” he told her. “The word is out that Spotswood’s men approach. This place is coming alive with scurvies afraid of capture and hanging. I must leave in safety, and see to my own continued life, if you don’t mind.”
She shook her head, certain that she never wanted Robert Arrowsmith to hang. She dreaded returning to Williamsburg, and even more she dreaded returning to her husband. Perhaps there was some way to explain why she had rendered him unconscious, but she was certain that she could not make him understand a promise such as the one she had made to the Silver Hawk.
She could never explain it. But then, neither would she ever be able to forget it.
“Milady?”
Robert offered her his arm and she took it and they hurried toward the stairs together. Once there, they were brought up sharply.
The Hawk’s men were gone, but many another knave was not. They awaited Robert standing in a circle at the foot of the stairs. He paused, shoving her behind him.
One fellow with a gold tooth and straggling dark hair stepped forward, grinning broadly. “Why, ’tis Mr. Arrowsmith of the Silver Hawk’s sloop, is it not? Alas, while the Hawk’s away …”
“What do you want, Fellows?” Robert demanded darkly.
Fellows lifted his hand, rubbing his thumb together with his forefinger. “What is it that we always want, good Master Robert? Gold, son, and that’s a fact.” Jeering, he pointed a finger behind Robert toward Skye. Nervously she pulled her hood further down upon her forehead. “There’s rumor in the common room that the Hawk was visited by a lady … and that the lady was none other than the Cameron bride. She’s a pretty thing, ain’t she? Nay, lads, more than pretty. She’s a beauty true and rare, and that’s a fact. She’s a ticket out of here to any man. She’s a very fortune in gold—”
“Let me by, Fellows. She’s been given the Hawk’s safe passage, and that’s a fact.”
Fellows cocked his head. “Why, the Hawk’s gone, Master Robert. ’E’s gone after Logan, so I ’ear, and this time, I daresay, they will kill each other at last. I fear the Hawk no longer.”
“Don’t you, then?”
The voice thundered across the room and all assembled at the foot of the stairs turned quickly to the doorway. The Hawk wasn’t gone at all, not yet. He was standing in the doorway with his greatcoat over his shoulders and his sword drawn. He lifted his hand, beckoning to Fellows. “Come, sir, let’s discuss this with our steel, shall we?”
“Get the girl!” Fellows bellowed out.
It was quickly apparent that he did not intend to battle the Hawk, not when a roomful of men stood between them. Some loathsome young man with filthy hands and rum-coated breath lunged toward Skye. She screamed, hurrying up toward the top of the stairs. Robert came against the young man, not reaching for his sword but jabbing his fist into the lad’s jaw. The young man went down, and then Robert drew his sword.
“Get her out!” the Hawk raged to Robert across the room.
Robert shoved her upward. They were quickly pursued. Robert dueled with agility and grace, but he had no less than three opponents at a time.
“I need a sword, Robert!” Skye called.
“A sword, milady?”
He lunged at an opponent. The man gasped, clutching his skewered middle. He fell forward, and his sword fell to his feet.
Skye could not take the time to look upon the ugly death with horror. She plucked up the enemy’s sword and swept her skirts behind her, anxious to parry their attackers along with Robert.
“Me! My hearties, ’tis me you must fight!” the Hawk cried, coming further and further into the room, battling all who came his way with a startling ferocity and trying to draw opponents from Robert and Skye.
He was strong, Skye thought, yet his brilliance at swordplay lay in his grace. No sword could touch him, for he could leap above the steel. No man could surprise him, for he would suddenly soar atop a wooden table and leap down upon his attacker.
“Come!” Robert urged her.
They fought to the top of the stairway. The Hawk fought his way closer and closer to them, and then he was suddenly beside them, his steel bathed in blood. They entered into the hallway, then he pushed open the door to the room where they had been. He shoved her inside, then Robert, then entered himself.
“The bed!” he roared to Robert.
Between them they shoved the bed against the door. Swords and knives hacked against it. It would burst open soon, Skye thought, in a bare matter of seconds.
The Hawk was already across the room and to the window. He picked up the hearth chair and sent it shattering against the murky panes. He jerked the dirty drapes down and wrapped them quickly about his wrist, shoving aside the broken glass. Then he turned to her. “Come on.”
“What?” she demanded incredulously. “We’re on the second floor, Captain Hawk. You—you and Robert can jump. I cannot!”
“You can!” Robert assured her. “You will be all right. It’s our only chance. It—”
“Oh, for the love of God, Robert! We have to go!”
Skye screamed as the Hawk suddenly strode to her and swept her up and brought her straight to the window. He did not pause, nor could she begin to fight his movement or his speed.
He meant to kill her! He meant to cast her straight out of the window!
He did just that, tossing her instantly. She screamed for all that she was worth as she fell and fell into the night, then her scream was silenced and her breath was swept away as she landed hard upon a stack of hay. A body fell near hers, and then another. She tried to scramble up. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t believe that she was alive.
Skye pushed herself up at last.
“Go, Jacko!” the Hawk called out.
And Skye fell again, flat on her back, as the hay wagon that held her jerked forward. She tried to struggle up again, but the ride was rickety and so swift she could barely move. Fingers curled around hers. “Lie still!”
The wagon came to a halt. The Hawk and Robert leaped down, then their driver, Jacko. The Hawk reached for Skye, lifting her up, and she recognized Jacko from her days aboard the pirate ship. He bowed to her with a broad grin. “ ’Evening, milady!”
They stood upon the dock. Skye could hear the lap of the water. “My God, how did you know to double back?” Robert demanded of the Hawk.
“I didn’t like the look on some of the men’s faces as I left,” the Hawk said briefly. “Jacko here thought to borrow the wagon and head around back to the windows, for which I am eternally grateful.”
“We have to move,” Jacko said. “Any minute now they shall discover the room empty, and the bulk of our men have headed out. They’ll have to run themselves, with the militia coming. We’ve got to reach the ship, and quickly, Captain.”
“What about Lady Cameron?” Robert asked.
The Hawk looked her up and down and then issued an exasperated sigh. “She comes with us. We’ve no choice. I cannot send her back, even with the militia coming. There are no guarantees.” He caught Skye’s arm and jerked her up against him. “Madame, I have said it before, and I say it again. You are trouble!”
She jerked away, her fingers still tight about the sword she had plucked from the slain ruffian. “You pirated my ship, Captain Hawk! Bear that in mind, sir! Had you lived an honest life, we’d have never met!”
“That thought could, indeed, make a cutthroat repent, milady. I shall bear it in mind. Now, let’s go!”
He stepped toward her and she was afraid of some fight, but he merely swept her up into his arms and took another step with balanced precision into the darkness beneath them. She muffled a cry of alarm, for they had merely come down int
o the longboat, and Jacko and Robert were following them. The men quickly picked up oars, and they slid away, silently, into the night.
The Hawk leaned toward her suddenly. She was shivering; she had grown very cold despite her cloak.
“Milady, I dare not light a lamp. Will you be all right.”
She nodded. His eyes remained fixed on hers.
Suddenly the soft sound of the oars dipping against the water was drowned by the shouts and fury that emanated from the tavern. “Company comes!” Jacko laughed.
“Ah, and I fear too late!” Robert said, pleased. Skye quickly looked back toward the land. The rogues from the tavern were spilling out to the stretch of land before the docks. They raced for their boats, but even as they sought the water, an explosion of shots was heard on the air.
“The militia,” Robert murmured.
“They’ll be taken?” Skye whispered.
“Aye, lady. Those known for their deeds will face trial and hang. There will be a few of the notorious among them. Those not known by face or name will be set free.”
“The Silver Hawk would be known,” she whispered.
“Aye, lady, the Silver Hawk would be known.” He offered her a wry grin, and she trembled inside. Freedom had loomed before him while death had lain behind him and he had still come back. He had come back for her.
“Will we make it?” she said.
He lifted his oar. “The ship lies just ahead.”
“You thrive on danger!” she accused him.
“Ah, but I do appreciate my neck, my love!” he assured her.
They fell silent again. Skye looked back. Horses raced along the shoreline. Boats were slipping into the river, men fought fiercely on land. Shots rang out; steel clanged.
The light began to fade in the distance, and the noise, too.
They knew the river here well, these pirates, Skye thought. They navigated in the near darkness. Silence and darkness enveloped them. Skye began to shiver.
The Hawk ceased to row. His hand stretched out to hers, his fingers entwined over them. “It is all right,” he assured her softly. His warmth swept into her. She nodded and swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her heart was wretched.
“It will not be so long,” he promised her.
It was long. She knew that his ship could not have been so close, that he must have hidden her carefully in some inlet. Still it seemed that they traveled long and hard before they at last saw a beacon in the night.
“The ship,” Robert murmured.
“Aye, she awaits us,” the Hawk said. “Is Mr. Fulton at the helm, ready to set out?”
“Aye, Captain. That he is.”
The longboat moved up by the ship. The ladder was cast over the portside, and the Hawk helped Skye to her feet. Shivering, she clung to the rope rigging and climbed.
He was quickly topside with her, then Robert, then Jacko.
“Take Lady Cameron to quarters,” the Hawk said.
“Wait!” Skye cried. Did he think to take her into his cabin again? She had to make him understand that he could not.
“I cannot wait!” he cried impatiently. “I’m captain here, madame, and I sail at your request, hounded my the militia on your behalf. Robert, take her!”
He turned away, heading toward the helm. Robert seized hold of her arm, and she knew that no matter how the man cared for her, he would obey the Hawk.
“Milady, come, please.”
He tugged upon her arm, gently, then more insistently. “Now, milady.”
“Damn. Damn him!” she cried out, hoping that her fury would reach the Hawk. But he had already dismissed her. He stood atop the platform and shouted out his orders. The anchor was drawn; men were rushing to the rigging to hoist sails.
Robert led her along to the Hawk’s own cabin. She bit her lip. He opened the door and thrust her inside.
The fire burned in the stove. Lamps were lit. Warmth and light surrounded her.
The cabin had not changed. Not a bit, since she had been within it last.
“I cannot stay here!” she cried to Robert.
But he ignored her and pulled the door closed behind her. She heard him slide the bolt outside, and she knew that there was no fighting the circumstances.
She fell down upon the bunk, exhausted. It had to be nearly dawn, and there wasn’t a thing in the world that she could do at the moment.
She dropped her sword, doffed her cloak, and stretched out upon the bed. Her mind raced and her heart ached and fits of trembling seized her again and again.
At last she stood up and went straight to the Hawk’s liquor supply. She downed a good portion of rum, recorked the bottle,and staggered back to the bunk. She fell down upon it again.
And that time, she slept.
In the morning she awoke alone.
She had feared the Hawk throughout the night, but he had not come near her. As she rose, she realized miserably that she did not fear his force, but her own response.
Robert came, quiet and subdued, bringing her breakfast and water with which to wash. He watched her intently. “It was not your fault,” he told her. “The Hawk’s not pleased at all that you’re with us, but don’t be alarmed by him, it was not your fault.”
“Thank you, Robert.”
He smiled to her encouragingly. “Robert, if a pardon comes through, is there any possibility that you will forswear your ways and sign loyalty to the king?”
She thought that his smile deepened, but he quickly lowered his lashes and she could not see his eyes any longer. “I will do whatever the captain does, madame.”
“Is your loyalty so fierce, then?”
“It is.” He hesitated. “He nevers betrays a trust, milady. He has said that he will lay down his life for you—he will do so then. I will lay down my life for him. That is how we all feel, all of us sailing with him. And that is why he is feared and respected.” He paused, as if he longed to go on. Then he shrugged. “The door is open, milady, you are welcome topside.”
“Wait, Robert!” she pleaded. He stopped, and it was her turn to pause as a crimson flush climbed over her face. “Robert, where did he sleep last night?”
Robert’s gaze swept over her, and he smiled secretively. “In the officers’ quarters, milady. Is there any other way in which I may serve you now?”
In the officers’ quarters …
He had given her his cabin in privacy. Was he waiting to collect his payment, the honorable rogue to the very end? The thought made her shiver, and then she remembered her husband left lying upon the floor, and she wondered where Lord Cameron had spent the night. A fierce surge of trembling rose within her and she had to sit down upon the bunk. Roc … could he forgive all of this? Would he disown her, or beat her? Or both. Such behavior would lie well within his rights for all that she had done.
And gave promise to do in the future.
She didn’t know who she hated the most then, Lord Cameron or the Hawk. She didn’t know who she feared more.
And she still didn’t know who she loved more.
“All you all right, milady?” Robert asked anxiously.
“I’m—I’m fine, Robert. Thank you.”
“There’s nothing I can do?”
She shook her head slowly. When he was gone, she picked at the food that he had brought her, then she quickly washed, brushed her hair, and came topside.
The sails were mostly drawn in, and they traveled slowly and very close to shore. Dangerously close, Skye thought. She could see land to the starboard side. She looked to the carved platform and to the helm and saw that the Hawk was there, navigating his own ship that day.
Skye smiled to the men she passed upon the deck, and they smiled in turn or tipped their hats. Once, she had been in terror of these men, she thought. Now they were her allies.
Her friends.
She couldn’t dwell upon such curious twists of fate. She hurried by them and up the platform.
The Hawk was in a black open-necked shirt and black breeches an
d his dark head was bared to the day. He nodded to her gravely when she came his way.
“Did you sleep well, milady?”
She nodded. “Did you?”
“Alas, I whiled away the night in dreams.”
“I thank you for that, Captain Hawk,” she said softly. He glanced to her, then looked up toward the crow’s nest.
“Jacko!”
“Aye, Captain?”
“Is she clear?”
“As clear as fine crystal, Captain!”
“Robert! Mr. Arrowsmith!”
“Aye, Captain!” Robert was quickly with him, bounding up the steps of the platform from the far deck.
“Take the wheel, sir, if you please.”
“As you please, Captain!” Robert agreed.
The Hawk stepped away, offering Skye his arm. She hesitated, then took it, glancing wryly toward Robert. “I wonder if His Majesty’s ships of the Royal Navy work so smoothly,” she murmured.
“I wonder,” the Hawk agreed pleasantly. He led her starboard side, where the sea breeze touched her face and lifted her hair. “I’ve a few lady’s things aboard,” he told her. “We had not anticipated your arrival, and so little was prepared. What I have will be sent to you by afternoon.” He leaned against the rail, watching her intently. “I know your penchant for bathing, milady, and would not deny you the pleasure.”
She flushed slightly and turned to stare out at the coastline. “I want nothing of your ill-gotten gain, Captain,” she told him.
“Who says that what I offer is ill-gotten gain?”
She glanced at him sharply, and then her color deepened. “I want nothing belonging to your whores, either, Captain, thank you.”
He smiled, staring out on the water silently, not touching her. “Milady, I promise you, what I send belongs to no whore.”
“Then—”
“Certain of my men are married, milady. Though their wives’ finery might not be to your standards, still, certain …” He paused, his eyes meeting hers with a devilish light. “Certain intimate apparel will be clean and neat and surely acceptable.”
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