Romancing the Pirate (32 page)

His jaw went slack. He stared at her, stunned, and before he could do more than sputter, Alicia told him the rest. How she’d met Blake, how they’d hoped to get married, how in the end their dreams kept them apart. How in four months’ time she’d be a mother.

“Alicia,” he said, scraping his hands down his face, then peering at her over his blackened fingertips. “Dear God, do you know how hard this is going to be for you?”

She set her jaw. “I do. But the alternative is unimaginable. My aunt wants to hide me, then give away the child as though it were nothing more than a used piece of clothing. I love this baby,” she said and placed a protective hand over the slight swell. “And it’s all I have left of Blake.”

“Daniel,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you found him. And then to be having his child …”

“I’m not an idiot, Charles, I know the road ahead will be hard.”

“It’ll be beyond hard, Alicia.” He pushed from the bench. “Business dropped off when your father died, not significantly but enough to notice. Now, you know I think you’re a fine blacksmith but some people don’t think a woman should be running this shop. It was fine when it was simply a father indulging his daughter, but a woman working a man’s job is frowned upon, Alicia. And now.” He huffed out a breath, waved his hand. “They’ll never support this shop with a pregnant unwed woman at the helm.”

“Then we pretend the shop is yours. We’ll tell everyone I sold it to you.”

“And you’ll stay away from it? Because even if I
own
it, they won’t bring their business to me if you’re here. And what will you do after the baby? Who do think will want to look after a—”

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say this child will be a bastard!”

Charles ran his hands down his face again. “Ignoring the truth doesn’t change it.”

Alicia gasped. Charles grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He walked to her, his eyes filled with regret. “You’ve blindsided me, Alicia. Of all the confessions you could have made this morning, this was the last thing I expected to come out of your mouth.”

“I want this baby, Charles. I’ll find a way to survive what is coming. If my life becomes too difficult, I can, in truth, sell the shop to you and move to St. Kitts. It’s not what I’d want, but I’m not without options if I need them.”

He took her hands. “You don’t want to live in St. Kitts. If you did, you’d have packed up and left with your sister.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “This is my home. My mother is buried here and so are the Davidsons. I love this shop.” She sniffled, squeezed his hands. “And even if I can’t own it, I want to be able to walk by, to see it, to be surrounded by the memories that are in my heart. I need to know you’ll support me, Charles. Not with money, I can do that. I mean stand beside me. I need to know there’s someone here I can talk to, who won’t hate me.”

He nodded, opened his arms. Alicia stepped into them, and felt the weight of her decisions ease. It wouldn’t be easy. She knew that. As a woman proprietor, it had been difficult; she could only imagine the ugliness when her pregnancy became obvious. But at least with Charles behind her, she knew she could manage.

“Thank you,” she sniffled.

“You’ve carved yourself a hell of a road, Alicia. But if you want to keep the shop going, then I’ll do my damnedest to—”

His words were lost as cannon fire exploded over Port Royal.

“Land ho!”

“Finally,” Blake muttered and pulled out his looking glass. Through it he saw the unmistakable shape of Tortuga as well as the fact that it seemed particularly lively, if the number of ships bobbing in its only accessible harbor was any indication. Snapping the glass closed, Blake adjusted his course, taking the most direct line to shore.

They’d made port over the months since leaving St. Kitts, but only for the least amount of time Blake could get away with as he’d always been anxious to get back out. He’d worked his crew hard these last months and they had heavy pockets to show for it.

Unfortunately the sea didn’t hold the appeal it used to. His ship, the very thing that had always brought him peace, had become an endless collection of memories that always chose the most inopportune moments to bob to the surface.

He’d almost been shot when an enemy’s pistol had reminded Blake of the one Alicia had strapped to her thigh and he’d paused almost too long when the vision of her wearing only that had exploded into his mind. He’d regained his senses in time to jump to the side and fire off a shot without getting himself killed, but it had been damn close.

There was also the time he’d gone ashore in Nassau. He’d spotted a woman walking in a way that reminded him of Alicia, even though logically he knew she was in Port Royal. In his excitement, he’d chased after the lady, only to have her whack him with her parasol when he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

That was weeks ago and he hadn’t been ashore since. He’d worked until exhaustion had demanded he sleep, but that wasn’t always enough. The bed reminded him of Alicia and there were times, in his dreams, when he smelled her.

And then there were Nate and Vincent, or the lack thereof. The ship was quiet. Who knew, Blake thought as he ordered the sails to be trimmed, that he’d miss Vincent’s nagging and his and Nate’s constant arguing? But he did. He often found himself turning to ask Nate a question, only to face nothing but air. There was no off-tune whistling, no friendly teasing. Nothing was as it used to be, and though Blake had known it was going to be that way when he’d said farewell to his friends, he hadn’t realized just how much the changes would hurt.

“Drop the anchor!” he shouted.

“Captain? How long are we staying?” his new first mate asked from the main deck. The rest of the crew stopped their tasks to listen.

He decided if being at sea wasn’t keeping his thoughts off Alicia, he’d give it a go on land. “Four days all right?”

It was the longest they’d stayed anywhere since leaving St. Kitts and everyone cheered. They saw to the rest of their duties in record time and soon the longboat was cutting through the water to shore. Blake headed straight for Doubloons. If he was going to drink himself into oblivion, he may as well do it with a friend.

Doubloons was crowded and pulsed with activity. Singing, laughing, catcalls, and swearing all mixed together. Thick candles wavered on shaky tables, and the smell of rum and sweat hung in the air. Blake cast a glance around the room, saw whom he was looking for, and wove his way through bodies that already swayed from too much drink. A few women tried to waylay him, sliding an arm across his shoulders. Others were bolder and squeezed his backside. Blake didn’t acknowledge any of them and continued to his destination, where he took a chair opposite his friend.

“Blake!” Captain roared. He grinned, caught a passing barmaid, and ordered two more drinks. The woman looked at Blake, her eyes dropped, and she leaned forward. It was a wonder her bosom didn’t fall onto the table and snuff out the candles.

“Anything else I can get you?” she purred.

Blake shook his head and she pouted as she turned away. Captain’s laughter shook the table.

“You really ought to teach me that trick,” he said, his eyes dancing.

“I’ve told you, it’s a curse.”

“Well, then, it’s a curse I’d surely love to ’ave!” He took a swig of his drink. “Haven’t seen ya in a while. Been busy, have ya?” he asked with enough of a twinkle in his eye that Blake knew just what he was implying.

“You make a habit of telling people to stow away on my ship?”

“Only the pretty ones.”

The barmaid came behind Blake, reached over, and set his mug on the table. Her breast brushed the side of his face. Blake shifted away, earning a disgruntled sigh from the wench and a disappointed shake of the head from Captain.

“Now ya see, Blake. That’s why I did it. Ya need to have some fun. Ya could take her upstairs, forget yer troubles.”

“I’m not interested,” he mumbled into his cup.

“Ah, but were ya interested in Alicia?”

Blake took another gulp. Captain’s belly jiggled with laughter. He should have known the man would want to talk about Alicia, and Blake couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps that was the real reason he’d sought him out after all.

“I knew it!” He looked rather proud of himself. “And I was right about St. Kitts bein’ where she’d find Samantha.”

Blake frowned. “How could you possibly know that?”

Captain grinned. “They were here, Samantha and Luke, a few months back.”

“With Alicia?”

“No. I figured Alicia was with ya.”

Blake’s mouth flattened. “No. She’s back in Port Royal, running her blacksmith shop.”

Captain guffawed. “If it’s still standin’.”

“Of course it is, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Ya haven’t heard?”

Fear slid low in Blake’s belly and he leaned forward. “Heard what?”

“Port Royal was sacked about a month or so ago.”

Blake’s mouth went dry as dust. “How bad?”

Captain shrugged. “Ya know how it is. Some claim there’s hardly anythin’ left, and others say the locals put up a hell of a fight.”

He remembered the look on Alicia’s face after she’d regained her memory, how pale and devastated she’d been. He remembered how close she’d come to being seriously hurt at Samantha’s house. Now he pictured her in the shop, fighting off pirates while the town around her was being attacked. Had her shop survived? Had she been hurt? He shoved to his feet.

“Where ya goin’? Ya haven’t finished yer drink.”

But Blake didn’t answer. He was too busy running out the door.

At first glance it looked every bit as awful as his mind had imagined on the interminable sail over. There were several skeletal remains of houses and businesses that hadn’t survived the attack but they seemed contained to the streets closest to the water. As he ran farther in toward the blacksmith shop, the damage diminished considerably. There were fewer walls seared black, fewer windows boarded up.

When he rounded the corner and saw the shop, saw the same sign that had hung over the door as long as he could remember, he stumbled to a stop. It was there. It was still there.

The pressure eased around his heart and Blake leaned against a nearby business while he got his breath back. The shop was all right, which gave him every reason to believe that Alicia was as well. He could leave now, he thought.

Only it wasn’t that simple. Now that he was here, he desperately wanted to see her. He didn’t know what he’d say; he knew only that he had to see her.

He opened the door to the shop and was blasted with memories. He saw his father stirring the embers, saw him turn at the sound of his sons coming in. He’d set aside whatever he was working on to give his boys his undivided attention. His hands had been gentle and his voice, as he reminded them to be home in time for dinner so that their mother wouldn’t worry, was gentle. Blake closed his eyes. Why, before he’d run off to sea, hadn’t he realized that everything his father had ever done for both him and Eric had been done out of love?

“Daniel?”

Blake blinked away the memories, the stab of guilt, and the sharp bite of regret. He focused on the man before him.

“Charles. It’s good to see you.” Blake stepped forward and shook the man’s hand.

“Never thought I’d see you step foot in here again,” he said, eyeing Blake cautiously.

“Never thought I would,” Blake acknowledged. He looked around the room, saw it was exactly as he remembered, and for the first time in months, breathed a sigh of contentment. Coming home wasn’t so bad.

“I heard about the pirate attack. Doesn’t seem as though it touched the shop.”

“We were fortunate. The town fought back, caught a few of the bastards before they could get too close, but I think they were new at the job. Bunch of young whelps thought they could get rich quick.”

“Didn’t work?”

“No, the Navy corralled them fairly quick. They’re cooling their heels in prison while they await their hanging.”

“Alicia wasn’t hurt?”

Charles’s gaze hardened. “Is that why you’re here? You’ve come for her?”

Blake flinched. “I heard about the attack and wanted to make sure she’s all right.”

“She is. Does that mean you’ll be leaving straightaway?”

Blake rubbed his eye. “I don’t know.”

“I see,” Charles said. His mouth pinched. “Well, take it from me, she’s fine. It’s best if you simply left.”

“I’d rather see for myself.”

Charles grabbed a sword, swished it back and forth. Since he wasn’t armed, Blake eyed it warily.

“You hurt her, Daniel.” He stopped, grimaced. “Hell, I don’t even know what to call you. She calls you Blake but I’ve only known you as Daniel.”

“It’s Blake now, and she wasn’t the only one hurt by what happened between us.”

Charles scoffed. “Perhaps not, but she’s the one that’ll keep paying for it, won’t she?”

Charles’s gaze widened and he clapped his mouth shut. Cursing under his breath, he turned and resumed working.

Blake’s stomach dropped to his knees. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Charles shuffled around the room, doing nothing more, Blake knew, than trying to look busy. Blake couldn’t contemplate what the man’s words hinted at. Unless Alicia told everyone they’d made love, which he couldn’t see, there was no reason for Alicia to pay for what they’d done together. Unless …

“Where is she?” Blake asked. Silence followed, had Blake’s nerves crawling along his skin. “Where?” he demanded.

Charles spun around, sword in hand, and before Blake could move, the tip of it was pressed against his throat.

“You break her heart again and I’ll hunt you down myself. She’s a good woman with a big heart and she doesn’t deserve to be trifled with.”

Blake didn’t move but his eyes bore into Charles’s.

“I’m not leaving until I find her, and since she’s not here, she’s likely at home. I’ll simply look for her there.”

Charles sighed heavily, lowered the weapon. Blake nodded and turned for the door.

“Do her a favor, Daniel,” he called at his back, “and don’t go to her unless you’re going to stay.”