The Pirate Bride (19 page)

What if they thought Brendan was Red Robert?

There was only one thing for it.

Blair Colm had to die before he could leave this island.

She didn’t look at Logan, because she didn’t want him reading her mind. She would let him think she was party to any plan he came up with, but if it didn’t include the death of the man who had massacred so many, she would resort to her own strategy.

If nothing else, she would have the element of surprise in her favor. True, she would die on the spot if she killed him, with so many of his men about.

Even so, it would be worth it.

And such an attack
could
be carried out. She would have to bide her time. And wait.

“Do you believe Cap’n Colm will really see to it that old Lord Bethany hangs?” Billy Bones mused.

“Ye’ve seen the captain at work,” Nathan said, then chuckled with pure pleasure and anticipation. “And as to the daughter…”

“She’s worth a good fortune—he’ll have that in mind,” Billy warned.

“Perhaps. Then again, perhaps no one will know if she’s not so pure on her return,” Nathan said. “She’d be unlikely to say anything, wouldn’t you agree?”

Red glanced at Logan and could see the pulse ticking at his throat. But he had the strength to remain dead still.

“Ah, well, it’s a fine enough beach, offering fine enough beds,” Nathan said.

“We’ll be staying here?” another man asked.

“Oh, aye. Despite what Billy thinks, Cap’n said if Red didn’t go down, he’d be looking for a place to careen his ship,” Nathan said. “Might even give it a few nights to see if he shows.”

Eventually Blair Colm’s crew tired of their conversation, dressed and left the area.

Even then, Logan waited until he was certain no one was lurking beneath the trees before he slipped down, then reached up to help her follow.

“Back to the caves,” he said. “We need to plan.”

T
HE BODIES WERE GONE
.

Blessed mercy.

Still, Cassandra didn’t think she would be able to bear seeing a crab ever again.

She realized she was alone with her father in the small shelter and wished she could be somewhere—anywhere—else.

This was where the corpses of the couple had been. She kept envisioning the flies and the crabs. But if she intended to survive, and for her father’s sake, she had to accept the comfort of the shade. She and her father had apparently been left to their own devices.

Why not? Where was there for them to go?

After reassuring her father that she was fine, she looked outside and saw that Blair Colm and several of his men were busying themselves with the barrels and trunks that lay strewn about the beach, having already laid claim to the booty that had been dragged up near the shelter. They had found porcelain, silver, pots and pans, ceramic pieces, dresses, breeches, fine shirts and jackets, lace undergarments, and even a few jewels, not to mention a carpenter’s toolbox and a surgeon’s kit. Not a bounty in gold, but the finery of a once substantial couple was not to be sneered at.

The men were clearly more interested, however, in the booty provided by some of the barrels.

Rum. Definitely rum.

But there was also salted meat, biscuit, sugar, salt and pepper, though it was clearly the rum that interested them most.

Though Cassandra’s temptation was to scorn anything offered her by these men, she knew that she and her father needed to eat, so she accepted the horrible, tasteless rations one of them gave her when he saw her watching, and, later, the much more appealing coconut meat one of them brought.

As she watched the men throughout the day, she noticed that Blair Colm had a democratic manner with his men. Military men sailed under strict rules of discipline for set pay, but Colm’s pirates—for however legal their charter, their behavior marked them as the worst pirates she’d ever heard of—had a certain degree of autonomy and clearly shared fully in whatever spoils they found.

How else did a man get others to commit murder and other atrocities, she wondered, if not for a rich reward?

The day seemed endless.

Yet did she want it to end? As long as they were all busy, she and her father were left alone.

She realized how much she loved him, and how sheltered her life had been, how she had been guarded and cared for, because he loved her so much in return. She had always known there was hardship in the world, and danger. She knew he was very worried for her now, and she wished he would believe her when she assured him that she was stronger than anyone might think.

She would live with courage.

And die the same, though she prayed it would not come to that.

And she could even believe it…so long as the sun rode high in the sky.

L
OGAN PACED WHILE
he ate, one eye on the entrance to their cave, so he could make sure no one was nearby and likely to discover them. He had feared his ruse might not work, that Colm and his men might search the island for further signs of habitation. But apparently Colm had been content to believe that the only tenants were dead.

“The plan is still good,” he told Red. “I believe the men will drink themselves senseless as darkness comes. I believe Cassandra will be safe, as he feels she is a valuable asset. I fear for Lord Bethany if she is threatened, but I know how Blair’s mind works, and he will not allow the urges of his drunken crew to ruin a fine profit.” He paused and looked at Red, clearly worried as to how she would react to his words, for she knew far more than he did himself about the value placed on a woman’s virtue.

But she was looking back at him, shoulders set, head high.

“I don’t understand. You mean to go through with the plan to steal a tender and damage the rest, then seize Blair Colm’s ship? How will that aid Cassandra and Lord Bethany?”

He let out a long breath.

“The catch…”

“Aye, the catch,” she said.

“We must return and steal them out from under Blair’s nose once we secure the ship.” He took a deep breath and went on. “I believe you will be better remaining aboard ship while I accomplish the rescue.”

She had been seated against the wall of the cave, gnawing with stoic determination on her biscuit. She stood then, and though her dress was somewhat stained from their adventure up the sea grape tree, she still wore it with elegance. Her hair streamed down her back, and stood out against the beige and blue linen and lace of the gown like a cascade of regal fire. Her eyes were bright and determined, and her chin was set.

“My dear laird, you know my abilities, as well as my desires and resolve. If you imagine that I will cower in a cabin while you fight alone, you are quite mistaken. In fact, you’ll have another fight on your hands if you think you can order me about in such manner.”

He smiled slowly, wondering if she had any idea what she had done to him, how she had changed him. If she knew that he felt he would have no world if she were not a part of it.

“My dear Red…Bobbie…I do not want to order you about. I ask only that you live, that is all.”

She lowered her head quickly.

“If I am to live, I believe we will both have to fight.”

He walked toward her, and she moved away, puzzling him. “Red…?”

“Logan, I would like to reflect upon the coming battle at the moment, if you do not mind.”

He turned away, realizing he had forgotten to keep watch, a mistake he could not make again. “I prided myself on a plan that offered danger only when we scuttled the boats and might be caught. Once on board, I believed—and still believe—we could dispatch the remaining crew. But I could not live with myself if I didn’t put every ounce of my will, my life and blood, into the effort to save those who found danger only in their attempt to rescue me.”

“Of course,” she said. “I would expect nothing less.”

“I’m going out to see what they’re about,” he told her.

“No, I will do so. If I’m caught, I am no threat, merely a young woman who hid when she heard him coming, one he can use to increase his riches on his return to the colonies,” she said.

“All right,” he told her.

She started past him, clearly surprised by his easy acquiescence. He caught her by the shoulders, and she turned back to him. He smiled, then knocked her quickly in the jaw.

The surprise in her eyes was an agony to him.

But it was better this way. She wouldn’t be unconscious long.

She slumped in his arms, and he laid her gently down, her head upon her pillow.

A
S THE AFTERNOON
waned, the pirates built a fire. They cooked, and they ate.

And they drank. A lot.

Cassandra saw Nathan watching her now and then. Saw the look in his eyes. And she was afraid. She stayed in their shelter, keeping as close to her father as she could, nestled almost into the trunk of a supporting palm tree.

Time passed. The sun dropped lower in the sky. The breeze grew cool. The waves lapping against the shore were a constant and almost soothing sound.

Earlier, she had discovered a book, an English translation of Cervantes. She picked it up now, feeling sad again. Someone had carefully set a tiny slip of canvas between the pages to mark their place.

The woman who had died? Or her husband? It didn’t matter. In the end, both had been nothing but a feast for the flies, the birds and the crabs.

The pirates were growing rowdier. When the first barrel of rum was finished off, someone found another.

Blair Colm had not been drinking with the others. He had watched them—as a mother alligator might watch the follies of her vicious brood. Somehow she was certain that, drunk or not, his men paid him heed.

As the sun continued to fall, he walked out to the water and looked across it with his spyglass, no doubt searching for ships on the horizon.

Finally he returned to the fire, where his men ate, drank and jested. One of them had donned woman’s clothes and was pretending first to be a fine lass in a drawing room, and then a harlot on the streets of Jamaica. The others hooted and hollered, and cried out ribald comments.

Still, she was left alone.

But Blair Colm had started drinking.

And where, she wondered with a shudder, might that lead?

R
ED AWOKE WITH
a sore jaw. But other than that…

She felt almost as if she’d had a lovely nap.

It was almost completely dark in the cave, and as she blinked, trying to adjust to the dimness, she remembered that Logan had struck her. Struck her!

And then apparently stretched her out comfortably, her head upon her pillow.

How long ago had he left her? How long had she been unconscious, and what had happened since he had gone?

She jumped up, terrified. What if he had been…

Caught. Tortured.

Killed.

There was enough light filtering in to tell her that it was coming on dusk.

Not yet full night.

Without thought, she started toward the mouth of the cave. Then she realized she could do nothing without some sort of weapon. She turned back quickly and grabbed a sword, then added an ankle sheath and a knife and headed for the exit again.

Her heart was pounding. She wasn’t afraid for herself.

She was terrified that…

At the entrance to the cave, she went dead still, forcing herself to breathe slowly.

She had to take care. How sad it would be to fall prey to someone who simply took her unaware because her heart had overridden her logic. How sad if she caused Logan’s death because she was a fool.

She heard the slightest rustle of a branch, caught the barest hint of movement, but it was enough to tell her that someone was out there. Someone in the trees, moving with silence and stealth…

She watched, eyes straining. Whatever she had seen, she knew it had not been a bird or a lizard, or any kind of an insect.

She flattened herself against the wall of the cave, just inside. From there, she could see. And from there, she could retreat.

She stood, and she watched, and she waited. Her eyes never left the entry.

Then a hand fell on her shoulder, but when she started to scream, to swing around, to bring her sword into a position…

A hand clamped over her mouth, stifling all sound.

And a strong arm knocked her sword from her grasp.

“P
EG-LEG
?”

“Aye, Brendan,” Peg-leg replied.

“Anything?”

“We’ve another eight hours, I’d say. I know the spot O’Hara speaks of…at least, I’ve heard tell of the island. By my reckoning, and the wind…eight hours. Seven if we’re lucky.”

Brendan looked at Peg-leg, a sense of desperation growing within him. “You believe that it’s true, then? That the island exists?”

“Aye.”

Inwardly, Brendan damned himself. If O’Hara’s coordinates were right, he had been sailing away from the island because he had misjudged the storm. If he had but thought out the wind and the currents and the positioning…

Hagar, eyeing the sails, said, “We’re moving fast and night is coming, Brendan,” he warned.

Peg-leg cleared his throat. “She may not be on the isle,” he said softly.

“She must be,” Brendan said quietly.

The others were silent.

“We may find more than what you’re looking for,” Silent Sam told him.

Brendan looked at him questioningly.

“O’Hara could be lying. He could be sending us into a trap,” Silent Sam offered.

Strange, Brendan reflected. He was doing a lot of talking lately. They might have to change his name.

“I know that,” he said.

They all looked at him. “I know, but there is nothing else I can do. I must believe that Red is alive, and that island, if it exists, is the most likely place. And I must find her.” He hesitated and lowered his voice. “If any man chooses not to sail, I can arrange for his safety.”

Silent Sam let out a loud sound of protest. “Are you mad, Brendan?”

“We just want you to be wary,” Peg-leg said.

“We’d all die for her, Brendan, and you know it,” Hagar said. “Each of our lives is owed to her. But we need to be ready to fight, and that’s a fact.”

Brendan nodded. It was true.

They should all be expecting a battle. Even…death.

For there was no telling who else might have found Isla de Muerta a safe port in the storm.

“We are heavily gunned, and we sail with the finest fighting crew on the seven seas,” Brendan said. “Aye, we may well be sailing into a trap. But it can’t truly be a trap if we’re prepared to do battle. Tonight, we’ll see to the fuses, ball and shot, grenades, swords, knives, pistols—all our weapons. Boarding axes are to be honed. We will be prepared for any eventuality when we arrive.”

“Aye!” the men cried in unison.

As Brendan turned to head below and see to their supply of ammunition, he noticed Jimmy O’Hara standing by himself at the bow.

“O’Hara,” Brendan hailed him.

“Aye, Captain?”

“I don’t captain this ship—she is Red’s,” Brendan said.

“We will find the captain. I’m certain of it.”

“Why didn’t you speak of the island first thing?”

“You seemed to know our position.”

“True, but the sea can be fickle. As can men.”

O’Hara stared back at him and said, “I have sworn myself to Captain Red. I’ve proven myself a coward, aye, but I gave my oath when my life was spared in that alley. I cannot promise you that no danger awaits, but I
can
swear that I know nothing more than you do yourself. And that the island exists.”

Brendan tried not to betray any emotion, and certainly no weakness. “We are prepared,” he said, and turned away.

He was glad of their stop at New Providence, glad of the supplies they had purchased through the sale to Blackbeard of Logan’s gold. They were heavily armed, carrying powder and shell, guns and swords.

The ship needed cleaning, but she had held fast during the storm, and the lower decks had kept the powder dry.

Now all they needed was speed. He didn’t know why he felt such a pressing urgency to get there so quickly. Looking into Jimmy O’Hara’s eyes, he hadn’t believed they were being betrayed.

Not by man, anyway.

He could only pray they weren’t being betrayed by fate.

D
ARKNESS WAS COMING
, Cassandra thought as she stared out of the shelter at the beach. The day, the long day, was ending at last. She had learned how the sun set in the Caribbean. How at first the night seemed to come slowly, with brilliant colors that reflected over the water, then, almost imperceptibly, began to change. So bright…and then so subtle. Deepest purple. Darkest, bloodiest crimson, turning to shadow and blackness.

She felt her nerves growing raw. Fear was setting over her with the surety of the dying sun.

Her father…was sleeping.

The heat, the exhaustion of worry, had taken a toll on him.

She saw that Nathan was staring straight at the frail shelter where she huddled in the dark, and Billy Bones was doing the same. Those two were intent on rape, she knew. If Blair Colm became too drunk…

He wouldn’t, though. She was sure of it. The man was watching, but watching for what, she didn’t know.

Watching for…Logan and the pirates who held him?

Were they even still alive, after the storm?

With her father sleeping, she made up her mind to speak to Blair Colm. He watched her approach, eyes narrowed warily, but he let her take a seat next to him.

“To what do I owe this honor?” he asked, his tone deceptively mild.

She looked at him and fought hard to keep the rancor from her voice.

“You are the captain of your ship, the leader of your men. I have come to ask for your protection.”

He smiled, pleased, and then he laughed aloud. “What makes you think you don’t need protection from me?”

She lifted a hand in the air. “Women love power. I’m sure you have many women. The virtue of many a great lady is often freely given. Lonely widows, wives with husbands at sea or across the Atlantic, are often at the mercy of…need. You have no interest in me. Not for yourself. And I must assume you see my virtue as a valuable commodity.”

He watched her for a long moment, sipping his rum.

“Clever girl.” He held out his mug of rum, as if in toast.

She smiled and took the mug from him, then sipped herself. “I realize that I will most probably be for sale. You may try to see my father hanged, but I’m worth more alive. If I’m to be sold, I ask only this—that you find a buyer for me who is not only wealthy but so old that he cannot possibly survive long. Preferably someone without heirs.”

He laughed, the sound genuine.

“And you think I can find such a buyer?”

“I’m certain that you can, perhaps even that you already have such a man in mind.”

“I will need to offer him a maiden, of course.”

“Of course. Therefore, I trust you will protect me from the sad, ugly sacks of flesh who are your crewmen.”

He stared at her. “You may consider yourself protected…at this time.”

“You cannot have my father hanged.”

“Maybe they will grant him mercy.”

“You know my father is no pirate!”

He leaned back, taking the mug of rum back from her. “I know a pirate called Red Robert is looking for me. If I find Red Robert, and kill him, then I will have the power to be merciful to your father.”

He was a liar. He would hurt her father no matter what.

But she couldn’t let that factor into her negotiations. She was trying to keep her father alive through the night. If she were attacked, he would try to stop that attack, but he was old and outnumbered. He would die, and she would be raped anyway.

She shook her head. “My father is not in league with Red Robert. He has never met the man. Laird Logan Haggerty was taken prisoner by Red Robert, and we were seeking his return and nothing more.”

“You carried a ransom.”

“No ransom was required.”

“But you didn’t know that when you set out,” he said.

She realized that before killing all the crewmen on their ship, he had forced someone to reveal the location of the ransom money, and that the money was now in the hands of this man.

“Yes, we carried a ransom, which no doubt you now have.” She looked at him. “Think! If we were in league with him in any way, would we have offered or brought such a ransom when we set out?”

“But you say Red Robert did not require a ransom,” Blair Colm said calmly. “And why would that be, do you think, Lady Cassandra?”

“Because he is a fair and just man? His crewmen told me that Red Robert granted Laird Haggerty parley, and that there was a fair fight. Red Robert honored the agreement they had made, and Laird Haggerty, too, is a man of his word.”

“A man of his word is still worth his ransom,” Blair said sharply.

“A woman worth money is only worth her price if she arrives at the bargaining point intact,” Cassandra snapped. “I trust you will see to it that my father and I sleep peacefully through the night. I will not have the least difficulty telling any man who offers to pay for me that I am only as pure as the men who raped me.” She stared at him. “And you should take extreme care. My father has a reputation in the colonies that is not misted with rumor, and the governor is his friend. Try to malign my father and you may find that you are your own greatest enemy.”

He stared back at her and smiled. “You don’t understand, child. You would be surprised by how eager men are—especially when they have long lusted after a young woman they could not touch—to hear that she was really of easy virtue and offered herself to a man with power.”

“You’re trying to force
me
to question all that I know and trust. But you cannot do it with me. And you will not be able to do it with others.”

“Nonsense. My word is always believed.” He smiled coldly. “And now I must bid you good night, my dear. This conversation is at an end.”

“You will rot in hell,” she promised.

“Hell is what men create for themselves on earth,” he told her.

“Yours is coming,” she promised pleasantly, and managed to turn with dignity.

Then, shaking, she returned to the shelter.

She was grateful to see that her father still slept, and knew that she needed to do so, as well. She had to be ready.

Ready for what?

She didn’t know, she realized with agony.

She lay down and prayed for sleep. She needed an escape, even if a false one.

Just a few dreams, at the least, to give her a reprieve from the nightmare she was living.

“R
ED
,
IT’S
L
OGAN
. For the love of God, stop fighting me….”

She had never felt such a trembling before. She had been terrified for herself.

She had been terrified for him.

She had thought herself in the arms of the enemy.

He eased his hold, and she shoved a hand against his chest and pushed him backward, deeper into the cave.

“Red!” he protested.

She slapped him hard. He was stunned.

“You punched me,” she accused him.

“All right, all right, we’re even.”

She moved to slap him again, but this time, he was ready and caught her arm.

“We’re nowhere near even,” she said. “You nearly scared me to death just now.”

“I couldn’t say anything. You were staring out, and I thought someone might have been out there.”

“There was.
You.
”

To her astonishment, he was smiling.

She didn’t care and held herself stiff as a board as he drew her to him. “Stop it, Logan. What in God’s name is the matter with you? Cassandra is out there.”

He sobered quickly but didn’t release his hold. “And I intend to save her,” he said grimly.

“So…”

“So…?”

“Let me go,” she said very softly. “It’s…over. Paradise or lust…it’s over. We must return to the real world.”

He inhaled, staring at her hard. His eyes were blue ice in the whisper of moonlight. “I told you that I love her, and I do. I also told you that a marriage will never take place between us.”

She heard his words, but they meant nothing to her. Perhaps he wasn’t madly, physically in love with Cassandra, but that didn’t change the fact that she was still the right woman for him, as he would no doubt come to see once they were back in civilization. Cassandra had risked her life for him. They would wind up together. And she herself would be left even without what had sustained her all her life: her desperate desire for vengeance.

“Logan, please.”

“Please what?”

“What did you see?”

“I believe the plan can work, and that I can alert Cassandra and Horatio.”

“How?”

“The men are drinking heavily. Even Blair Colm is drinking. Cassandra and her father are sleeping in the shelter. I can reach them from the far side and tell them of our plan, and that we’ll return for them. There’s when we will face danger.” He looked at her and inhaled deeply. “There’s no help for it. Unless…”

“Unless?”

Again he inhaled. “I beg you once again to stay aboard the ship once we take her, and let me come back alone to deal with Colm and rescue the Bethanys.”

“You know I will not.”

“I’ve prayed that you would.”

“I have a good sword arm. You will need me.”

He pulled her into his arms, staring at her. “Red…”

She looked into his eyes, but as she did, she lifted her leg and took the knife from its sheath at her ankle, then brought it to his throat.

“Don’t underestimate me, Laird Haggerty,” she said very softly.

“I would
never
underestimate you,” he told her.

The look in his eyes was more than she could bear. She started to turn away, but to her vast surprise, he moved swiftly, and it was her turn to be taken. Before she could escape his hold, he had wrested the knife from her grasp.

“You used my trust!” she accused him.

“As you used mine.”

“But—”

She was taken by surprise once again when his mouth fell on hers with a searing force.

The knife dropped between them. He fell to his knees, drawing her down with him. For a moment she was stunned. For another moment she struggled. Then the realization that everything she had dreamed of for years was about to happen suddenly roused a passion in her that was beyond desperate.

They probably would die tonight.

And the taste of his mouth was something she needed to know one last time.