The Pirate Bride (18 page)

“What is it?” she asked.

“A ship…I think.”

Her heart should have soared. Instead, it seemed to sink like lead.

It could mean…

But she didn’t want to be rescued. Not yet. Perhaps…one day.

People were sometimes marooned for years…
.

They’d shared just four days…five, counting the storm.

Logan was staring out at the horizon, and she followed his line of vision. At first she saw nothing.

Then…a speck. One that would disappear with the coming sunset, she was certain.

Logan rose, then ran hard back to their shelter. When he returned, he had a spyglass he’d found in one of the trunks. He looked out through it for a long time, saying nothing.

“Should…I stoke the fire?” she asked at last.

“Not yet.”

“But…”

“I don’t know the ship. I can’t see a flag.”

“If you can see the ship, can the ship see us?” she asked.

He looked at her. “Two specks on the sand? I doubt it. But soon enough…We need to douse the fire.”

“But…if we douse it…”

If it was Brendan out there, as well it might be, she couldn’t let him search and not find her.

“We have to know who sails her first,” he said, then went back to looking through his spyglass.

She tried to remain patient, but she was about to explode when he spoke at last.

“I don’t trust it.”

“Is it my ship?” she asked.

“No…the masts are wrong,” he said.

“You can see the masts?”

He took the glass from his eye and handed it to her.

She wasn’t pleased that it took her several seconds just to find the ship, and even then, she could see almost nothing, only that it
was
a ship. And he was right. She couldn’t actually count the masts, not when it was still at such a distance, but the shape was wrong.

“We need to douse the fire now,” he said. “We can prepare a few torches for ourselves for the night, though the moonlight will probably be enough. We’ll bring essentials to the cave I found behind the spring—we must make sure we supply ourselves with plenty of drinking water. The pots and pans…rum, for medicinal use. And we’ll take the surgeon’s kit…some clothing, and then…”

“And then? It’s obvious someone has been living here. Can we strip away all hint of habitation so quickly?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. If you will begin to transport our belongings…” He paused, wincing, then looked at her. “I will prepare to dig.”

“Dig?”

“The gentleman and his wife. I’m afraid I will have to dig them up and make it appear that they reached the shore, then…perished here days later.”

She stared at him in horror. “But…”

“Their bodies are…they are not long dead.”

“Still…wouldn’t a physician know…?”

“I doubt that any ship’s ‘physician’ is going to perform an autopsy,” Logan said. “We will let it appear that the husband died holding the wife. That she perished first. The elements…the hardship…their age…all would have worked against them. I doubt any questions will be asked.”

“Oh, dear God,” she said. “After all they suffered…and all that we have taken from them.”

“I hardly think they would begrudge us for saving our lives,” Logan said gently.

She nodded.

“And yet…”

“Yet what? It isn’t your ship.”

“It might be Edward Teach. Or someone else I know.”

“Who else knows that you are Red?”

“I could pass as your…cousin?” she suggested.

“We must see what ship this is, first. Thanks to the coming of night, they will not send boats ashore until dawn. Let’s hurry.”

She felt ill, and yet it was indeed time for action, which meant she couldn’t allow herself to be weak in any way. She had come to depend upon him, and that was something she should not have done and which now must stop. She had taught herself once to be fair, merciful
and
as strong as steel, and now the time for steel had come again.

“If you wish, I can dig, as well,” she offered.

“You’re fast. You will be better at arranging a hideout deep in the cave. As the stronger, I can dig faster.”

Red nodded and set to work.

As she began the task of going through all they had salvaged from the shore, she realized she could not leave her pillow. Some of the bedding, yes. It was necessary it be left behind, so that an enemy crew—should their visitors indeed be enemies—would believe that the old couple had lived there and made use of the flotsam and jetsam until they died.

But her pillow…

It went with her on one of her many treks to the cave.

As she worked, she thanked God they had been cast ashore upon an island with a spring and a deep cave. She explored their home-to-be a bit, intrigued when the deeper tunnels proved to be filled with bats.

After bringing in everything she thought they would need, she began to plan.

She found several little escape fissures in the rocks, and decided on the best place to set up their camp, a spot from which they could easily access the spring itself and where they would be well hidden. They could even eavesdrop upon any visitors to the spring, so they would know if their refuge had been discovered.

When she returned to the shore, the last golden light was playing across the beach, and she had to hold back the gasp that came to her lips.

Logan was standing just outside their little structure, as the fire burned low.

The waning flames gave just enough light for her to see the tableau he had arranged inside the shelter. He had painstakingly dusted the burial sand from the elderly couple. The man’s body had been seated against one of the trees supporting the structure, and he appeared to be looking downward in dejection.

The woman was stretched across his lap, her face turned up to him.

His hand rested upon her graying hair, as if he were cradling her in a last embrace.

The stench of human decay suddenly hit her, and she turned away.

Logan saw her but didn’t move to touch her, only doused the fire, then straightened.

“I have to…bathe,” he rasped, then turned to head inland.

Red noticed he had left the spyglass near the fire. Trying not to breathe, she picked it up and looked out to sea.

The ship was closer now. She could count two masts, but she still couldn’t make out the flag. And the last light of the sun would soon be gone.

She set the spyglass down where she had found it, and as she did so, she became aware of the drone of flies.

They were going after the corpses.

There was no help for it.

She noticed crabs on the beach, and she knew that they, too, would soon be feasting upon human flesh, and her heart revolted in her chest. She was certain they had been good people, and they had deserved so much more.

But she wanted to survive. She still had so much to achieve, and now…

Now she had other dreams, as well.

She stiffened, turned and followed Logan back to the spring. He was in the water, the bar of soap in his hands, scrubbing himself furiously. As she watched, he dived down and came back up with a handful of sand, then scrubbed himself with that, as well, and she understood.

He could bathe all night, and he still wouldn’t feel clean, not after he had dug up two people who should have been left to rest in peace.

She shed her clothing and walked out to him. As he stared at her, she took the soap from him and worked it into a lather against his back.

The day’s colors changed.

Gold and pink became mustard and crimson.

He turned and locked his arms around her. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest.

Eventually he lifted her chin and very lightly kissed her lips.

“It may be our last night,” she said, breaking from him.

He shook his head and smiled slightly. “No, Red. I’ll not let it be our last night. Perhaps the last here in this paradise, but never our last night.”

“Still…” she said.

“Still…” he agreed.

He turned and, taking her hand, led her from the water. He reached for their clothing, but she shook her head, and when he gazed at her, his head at an angle, a brow arching, she flushed.

“I should show you our new accommodations.”

“I would dearly love to see them.”

They left their things strewn on the shore. She led the way to the far bank of the spring, fringed to the shore with palms that hid the entrance to the cave. She didn’t show him how she had strategically planned their new quarters, though.

She simply led him to the blanket and pillow.

When they lay down, darkness had come.

And in the darkness, they made love. She was wilder than she had ever been.

She clung harder.

He moved deeper.

Spent and gasping, hearts pounding, they lay still afterward, holding one another. Then she moved, just slightly.

And they made love again.

Ever more desperately.

And so the night wore on, each bout of lovemaking more powerful than the one before.

They did not sleep. When it was still long before dawn, he rose reluctantly. She joined him. They retrieved their clothing, but Logan insisted she don one of the dresses that had been in the trunk; he didn’t want anyone to suspect that she might be the notorious Captain Red Robert.

She went to the cave and changed, as he had suggested, then went to find him standing in the cover of the trees and staring across the beach.

The ship was anchored now out beyond the reefs. It was still quiet, but it would not be so for long.

He had the spyglass, and he was standing stiffly.

She did not need the glass to understand his tension.

She could see the ship’s flags clearly.

The two flags that rose high on the pole. Just below the Union Jack was a personal flag.

And it belonged to Blair Colm.

“Y
OU’LL GET IN
the next boat.”

As near as Cassandra could tell, the man giving the order was Blair Colm’s first mate. She had heard him called Nathan.

He wasn’t particularly tall, and he was a far cry from Blair Colm, who could easily play the part of the great statesman, the soldier, the hero and the gentleman. This Nathan was a solid man, bulky with muscle and with no discernible neck. He was surprisingly agile, however, given that he was built like a squat tree with legs instead of roots.

She absolutely loathed the man. He was bald, and had a grin that made her uncomfortable every time he looked her way.

She had heard rumors about Blair Colm; she had simply never believed them. They were too terrible, and had come only from the underbelly of society-indentured servants who were most often alive only because they had been saved from the terrors of Newgate or the scaffold and sent to work in the colonies. She remembered those rumors now, though, and believed them, even—or possibly, especially—the one that said he sold women.

And that, she was convinced, was why Nathan undressed her with his eyes every time he saw her, but didn’t touch her.

Help had to be out there somewhere.

Unfortunately, it did not seem to be coming today.

She and her father had been dragged from below at the crack of dawn, only a few hours after she’d managed to fall asleep. They were at anchor outside the reefs surrounding a small and quite beautiful little island. The white sand beach sparkled beneath the dawn. Hills rose behind a rich display of palm trees, sea grapes and other tropical growth.

“Someone is there,” her father whispered.

“What?” she whispered in return.

He inclined his head toward a spot on the beach. She had to squint to see what he was indicating, but then she saw the small shelter he had spotted.

“And he’s looking for someone,” she said softly, indicating Blair with a quick nod.

He was on deck, his spyglass in hand, staring at the island. He had not gotten into the first tender.

He was probably waiting to make sure the first boatload of crewmen was not murdered by some native tribe—or whoever had been marooned there.

Even to go ashore, he was dressed impeccably. His white shirt was pristine, his vest richly embroidered, and his hat sported an impressive feather. He might have been dressed for dinner at the governor’s mansion.

“He’s looking for Red Robert. And Logan,” her father said with a sigh.

“Father,” she said quickly, “Logan would have died before causing you anguish.”

“I know that, daughter,” he said, and squeezed her hand. “I have never blamed a decent man for the evil in others. I blame myself for stupidity. I have attended social functions with the monster now labeling me traitor.”

“Stay calm, Father, I beg of you. Where there is life, there is hope,” she whispered.

He attempted a smile. “Where there is life, there is hope,” he agreed.

“Lord Bethany, Lady Cassandra, if you will?” Blair Colm said. “I am ever so sorry to trouble you, but my prisoners remain within my reach at all times.”

“Down the rope ladder,” Nathan commanded.

Maybe he thought he was smiling pleasantly, Cassandra thought. Perhaps the man was simply incapable of a smile that did not look like a leer.

Her father went first, reaching up to help her once he reached the boat, but she needed no assistance. She was far more worried about her father than herself.

Horatio Bethany was no coward and no weakling. He rode his own estates, and he was not adverse to helping out when necessary. Cassandra was so proud of him. He would help a servant staggering under a heavy load, he would read to the children, and he had seen to it that those in his household learned about books and writing.

She hoped he would not do aught else to draw Blair Colm’s wrath.

She took a seat as properly as she could. Her cotton gown was stained with blood and dirt, and wrinkled from her confinement. Her hair was falling down in snarled tendrils.

Four of Blair’s men were in the boat with them, another six already on the island, and as they moved away from the ship, she saw he was following them in a third tender. She had tried to assess the total number of men under his command. Twenty-five, she thought, and that count might have been a bit high. But certainly no more than that.

And were they all refuse, as he was himself? Killers who did not care who they killed, especially since it seemed their commander had the right to murder under the law?

She smiled as she stared at her father, but her thoughts were running in far less pleasant directions. They must all be monsters. They had taken no prisoners other than her father and herself. Because they had some value? Or because he needed a legal excuse—her father’s supposedly traitorous activities—to justify taking and sinking the ship?

“I wish you had a parasol,” her father said.

What a ridiculous comment, she thought.

But he was smiling at her, so she kept smiling in return. We must bend but not break, she thought. No matter what happens, we must remember who we are, and that we are decent, compassionate human beings.

They reached the beach. One strong fellow leapt out and dragged the boat high up on the sand, so it would not slip back out to sea.

He turned to give her a hand, but she was already ashore.

To one side, Blair Colm’s boat was being run up on the beach, as well.

From the direction of the shelter she had seen earlier, she heard a cry. “Captain! Captain Colm! You must see this!”

Blair strode rapidly forward, while one of his men prodded Cassandra and her father to follow—at sword’s point.

As they neared the crude shelter, Cassandra, who was in the lead, heard the buzzing of flies, and just as she realized what that meant, the odor of decay hit her.

And then she saw the couple.

Her stomach lurched as she fought to keep from being sick. She felt faint, and it was only the support of her father’s arm that kept her from keeling over.

It wasn’t so much that the couple was dead. It wasn’t even the fact that they had apparently died in one another’s arms.

It was the cruelty of what came after death.

The birds had fed upon the faces.

And the crabs had wrecked havoc on their flesh.

The odor, the flies, the birds, the crabs…

It was suddenly too much. She pitched forward onto her knees and started to scream, but it didn’t help. She could still hear the flies droning….

And then she dropped unconscious to the ground.

R
ED AND
L
OGAN
had watched the pirates arrive from the safety of a tall sea grape, midway between the shelter and the spring, one that afforded the cover of thick branches and fat green leaves, but still allowed them to see most of what was happening on the beach.

Red had seen his face when the boat carrying the young woman and the older man had come ashore. She had known she was seeing Cassandra and Lord Bethany even before he muttered the woman’s name beneath his breath.

Time stood still.

Logan’s original plan had entailed waiting until most of the crew was ashore, hopefully drunk on the barrel of rum he had left in an obvious spot by the shelter, then stealing one tender after destroying the others, and making their way out to the ship. Foolhardy? Maybe. But possible. A skeleton crew would have remained on board. A crew that might be taken stealthily by night.

But when she studied his face now, she knew everything had changed.

It had changed when Lord Bethany and Lady Cassandra had stepped ashore.

She knew they had only been in these waters because they were attempting Logan’s rescue.

And if she knew it, then he had to be thinking the same thing. The woman he loved—even if she was not his fiancée—was in this horrible predicament because of him.

Red wasn’t close enough to see the details of Lady Cassandra’s features, and she knew that in such dire circumstances, she shouldn’t be wasting time reflecting on the young woman’s stature and beauty.

But her heart sank nonetheless.

He had not lied. Cassandra was beautiful. Her posture was regal, and despite the circumstances, her head was held high atop a neck that was long and slim.

Then she watched as Cassandra stopped walking, stared in horror at what Red knew waited inside the shelter, fell to her knees and screamed.

That scream tore through the air, and even Red, who knew its cause, winced at the sound.

Lord Bethany was quick to catch his daughter as she fell. Down on his knees himself, he cradled her body, putting his own bulk between her and the sight of the dead couple, despite the fact that Cassandra seemed to be unconscious.

A knife seemed to tear into Red’s heart.

My father would have loved me like that, I know he would have, she thought, then stiffened. The world was what it was. Her father was long dead at the hands of the man who had now taken these two people prisoner. God only knew what Blair Colm had done to those with whom Lord Bethany and Lady Cassandra had sailed.

No.

She knew.

She had seen the man in action.

And she could see him now.

Everything in her cried out that she needed to jump from the tree and race forward and plunge her knife through his heart. If she were quick enough, perhaps she wouldn’t be stopped, and once he was dead…

She started, feeling Logan’s hand on her arm. His eyes carried both understanding and a warning.

“No,” he whispered.

She indicated Cassandra.

“I know,” he returned softly. “And I will find a way.”

“But…”

“We watch,” he said, his whisper soft.

And so Red turned her eyes back to the scene at the shelter. Blair was watching Cassandra, laughing softly. “Ah, the lady shows such sweet delicacy,” he said.

“There’s no sign of Red Robert’s ship,” a short, stocky man announced. “There was a wreck, whatever ship this man and his wife sailed. But there is no sign of any other.”

“Is there salvage?” Blair asked.

“Some.”

“Take the food, and then we’ll see to water.”

“What of those poor folk?” Lord Bethany demanded.

“What of them?” Blair asked. “They are dead.”

“They must be buried.”

“Must they?”

“I see a shovel. I will dig, if you’ve not the crew to manage such a simple task,” Lord Bethany said.

Blair Colm shrugged. “My dear Lord Bethany, I’m afraid you might have a heart attack, attempting such labor. Billy, you and Victor dig. Nathan, take the others out to search through the salvage.”

“I need water for my daughter,” Lord Bethany said.

“You two,” Blair said, nodding toward several crewmen. “Look for fresh water.”

Logan’s hand was still on Red’s arm. Now he gave her a slight nod, indicating that he considered them well concealed, so they could continue to watch what was taking place from their perch.

Several of the pirates disappeared beneath the canopy of the trees as they started inland. They reappeared almost directly beneath Red and Logan as they headed toward the spring. One turned back a few moments later to report on the fresh water.

Red looked at Logan, who shook his head. She didn’t know if he was opposed to killing the men because it would be murder in his eyes or only because he felt the time wasn’t right.

Either way, he had judged correctly, for in minutes there were ten pirates at the spring, drinking and splashing, heedless of their clothing and even their boots.

Red began to wish they had left their vantage point when more and more of the ugly fellows began stripping off their clothes to bathe, but she knew they were there for the duration, so she listened and waited, barely breathing. She had mocked Logan for not seeking vengeance with enough passion, but she knew now that she had been wrong to doubt the strength of his intentions. There was something in his eyes today, something she hadn’t seen before. And though it was obvious he was horrified that Lord Bethany and Cassandra were Colm’s captives, she knew in her heart that his feelings went deeper.

He had learned patience, and he was calculating every possible strategy for taking down Blair Colm.

But whatever his previous thoughts might have been, the game had changed.

She knew he would die before harm came to Lord Bethany and Cassandra.

“First time I’ve really seen your ugly mug of a face, Nathan,” one of the younger men said.

“And first time anyone could be downwind of ye, Billy Bones,” the one called Nathan responded. Red looked at him more closely and realized that what he was washing off was blood. There was little doubt now as to what had happened to the crew of Lord Bethany’s ship.

“It’s a fine island,” another man said.

“Not fine enough,” Billy said. “The captain was hoping to find that Red Robert had gone down in the storm. Maybe even that the ship had broken up and his treasure had washed ashore. Instead, we have the finery of an old merchantman.”

“We should stay on here a bit, explore the place,” Nathan said, looking around. “It’s a fine place for a hideout, eh?”

“Except we’re not the only ones that know of her, eh?” Billy said.

“Aye, so they say. Some other bastard would be digging up what we buried,” a man with one glass eye said.

“But we won’t be stayin’ anywhere,” Billy said. “Cap’n knows Red Robert is after him, and he can’t stand it. He wants to know who the fellow is and why he’s after ’im. Become a bit of an obsession, it has. He wants Red Robert dead, so he does. Offered a fortune in New Providence to have the fellow killed.”

“But the fools failed,” the glass-eyed man said.

“We’ll be finding him eventually,” Nathan said with assurance. “And it will be a slow and painful end for Red Robert. Cap’n Colm says he’ll cut the bastard’s tongue out first, shoot him in the kneecaps and then the balls, and then watch him die.”

Red felt ill. On the one hand, she longed to point out that there would be no shooting her in the balls.

On the other, she was suddenly afraid.

What if they found the
Eagle
and captured her?