Cursed (24 page)

She wound the other end of the rope around a wooden pole and quickly tested it with a few strong tugs. The knots held. She sat back on her haunches when she was satisfied, and was surprised to find she was a little out of breath. She wiped the hot prickle of perspiration from her forehead.

“Right. We’ll get his feet over the edge and lower him down.”

Together they inched him over the edge using the makeshift pulley system she’d made. His shirt caught on the rough end of a plank and there was a rip of material as the fabric gave way, baring his chest. Estelle caught a glimpse of toned, lean muscular planes before he disappeared over the edge.

“Lower him slowly, until he is just above the water,” Estelle said.

Estelle wound an extra length of rope around the pole when they had positioned him above the dingy. “I’m going to get in first to guide him down.”

“How are we all going to fit?” Claire asked.

“I’m going to swim. There will be room enough for you both that way.”

“But the water is freezing.”

Estelle reached out and squeezed Claire’s hand. “I’ll be fine. A bit of cold is nothing, and besides, our ship isn’t very far away. We’ll be there in no time.”

Estelle quickly climbed down the ladder until she stood in the hull of the dingy. She maneuvered the craft until it was directly beneath Gregory. She reached into her belt and retrieved the hunting knife she wore in a leather sheath.

“Lower him a little more,” she called, as loudly as she dared.

Slowly, Claire lowered him. Estelle steadied herself, reached around his back and cut the rope. Gregory’s boneless body toppled onto her. She fell backwards. Her rear end hit the hull and she was covered by cumbersome limp limbs and an unforgivingly solid body.

She spat out a mouthful of his hair, gasping as his dead weight pressed down on her chest. Although he was heavy, he wasn’t oppressively so and Estelle wondered at how good the solid pressure of him felt against her own body, how well they fit together, like two halves of a whole. Neither too small nor too large. It was as if his body was made solely for her tall frame.

“Estelle, are you all right?” Claire’s voice was strained as she climbed down the ladder.

Estelle saw her through a blurry red veil. “He’s as bulky as a bullock.”

She managed to squeeze her arm between them and shuffled as best she could in the small craft that threatened to capsize with every movement. She slipped out from under Gregory and maneuvered him so that he was secure in the hull. She sat on the small, rough cut bench seat, breathing heavily and waiting for her heart to resume a normal pace.

Gregory filled the hull almost to capacity. Through the whole episode he hadn’t so much as uttered a sound. A slight frown creased her forehead. She hoped that she hadn’t given him too much of the drug. There was no time to worry about that now, though. With the threat of being found by his crew at any moment, she would need to get to the safety of the
Wanderlust
, her own ship. She had a fierce crew of fifty women, rescued from the mistreatment of men and all ferociously loyal. Between Claire, Dalia, herself and twenty other women, they’d wrested the
Wanderlust
from her enemy — the cruel Jack Cutlass.

Estelle slipped into the water and beckoned to Claire to move into the dingy. The freezing sea soaked into her clothes, weighting them down and quickly numbing her skin, but there was no time to waste. They needed to get away. Claire picked up the oars. The craft slid smoothly through the gently swelling water, and soon the pier and Gregory’s ship disappeared into the dark night.

She barely believed that they had actually done the impossible and kidnapped Captain Gregory Marshall. A slow smile spread over Estelle’s face. He was going to repay the debt he owed her family, and she was going to make sure he paid back every last penny with blood. It was going to be entertaining to watch the star of the Royal Navy pay for the heinous crime he had committed and for which he had thus far managed to avoid retribution. But first, she needed to find out exactly what had happened, because there was only one person who really knew what had gone on that night long ago. And that need was the only thing that stood between his life and his dispatch into the afterlife.

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