The Pirate's Debt (The Regent's Revenge Book 2) (4 page)

“There it is again,” a member of the crew whispered from rigging attached to the gunwale at their right.

Chloe huddled closer to Jane. “Why, do you suppose, are they whispering?”

“I cannot say. Should we be bold enough to ask?” Jane suggested.

“And stir the captain’s wrath by mingling with the crew again?” Chloe shivered. “No. The last time I had the audacity to question his men, we were ordered to spend the rest of the day in our cabin and threatened for the next.” She trained her stare on the men, trying to understand what the figures standing by the starboard rail were doing. Gooseflesh rose on her neck. “Perhaps we should stay out of the way for the time being.”

“I agree. Speakin’ to the crew ’as only gotten ye into trouble, m’lady.”

Curiosity had always gotten the best of her, that was true. She tightened her hold on Jane’s elbow and led her closer to the boats where they could hide and safely watch the men. “A bystander often sees more of the game than those who play.”

“Bianca,” Jane breathlessly replied, acknowledging the quote from
The Castle of Otranto
, the book Chloe went nowhere without.

“Indeed.” Chloe covered her mouth to stifle her giggling delight. By faith, she would have Jane quoting
Otranto
before their voyage was over. The girl had never had time for a literary education before. What Jane did know came from the books Chloe offered to read to her.

A crewman snapped his fingers at no one in particular. “There it is again.”

Jane leaned close. “Perhaps they spotted a mermaid.”

Chloe looked at Jane and covered her mouth to keep from laughing, fearing the sound would give away their position. Their gazes locked, and together they crouched low, hoping to remain unnoticed.

“Douse the last light,” a midshipman ordered.

“I’ve long ’eard tales of sirens luring seamen to their deaths. Do ye think these men have ’eard one sing?” Jane’s whisper-soft voice held a tinge of anticipation and fear.

“Be not alarmed,” Chloe said, channeling Theodore from
Otranto
. “Let us wait it out and discover the cause as Manfred did when searching for Isabella and the identity of his son’s killer.”

“M’lady, will there never be a time ye don’t quote your books?”

“Why, Jane—”

Snap. Pop.

Chloe raised her gaze to the sheets billowing above their heads. The canvas sails whipped around in a sudden violent dance, shocking her with the wind’s unrelenting force. She shivered, for the first time regretting the folly of leaving her cabin. Had she been wrong to go topside at night? Were they in danger from these men, and why did they act so strange?

Of all the foolhardy things I’ve done . . .

“There it is again.” This time the crewman grumbled loudly. “Fetch the captain.”

Chloe ignored the warning bells cling-clanging in her head. Instead, she listened to the men while searching the inky-black distance for whatever eluded them.

“There!” a man exclaimed.

She craned her neck, focusing all her energy on the man and the direction he pointed.

“Leading lights! If we don’t deviate from our course, we’ll cross the rocks!”

Leading lights? Rocks? Her head whirled in confusion. What were they talking about?

The men, four in all, broke into action, crashing into one another with calamitous results.

Then a bell sounded, and the
Mohegan
was peppered with life in a proficient swiftness Chloe had never seen before.

In the distance, aft of the ship, lightning punched a bright hole in the darkness. With it, an imposing silhouette emerged.

Hair rose on the back of Chloe’s neck. “Should there be a ship following us?”

Jane shook her head, her eyes wide. “I know nothin’ about shippin’, m’lady. I only know that I’m cold and frightened. Somethin’ isn’t right ’ere. I can feel it in my bones.”

The
Mohegan
listed, groaning out one argument after another as the men stationed at her helm redirected the vessel’s bearing.

“Stand by to tack!” a crewman shouted.

Barefooted men shuffled past as they clamored to follow orders.

“Helms alee! Helms alee!”

Rigging groaned overhead, and blocks creaked against straining rope. Another bolt of lightning serrated the sky, highlighting canvas and the sinister silhouette of a ship in the distance.

“Sail ho!” someone above them shouted.

Captain Teague thundered past the forecastle. “Where away?”

Tension swelled as the ship protested against the wind.

“Ready about!” another man shouted.

Jane tensed beside Chloe. “What’s ’appening?”

Chloe rose on the balls of her feet. “There is another ship out there. Did you see it?”

“No.” Jane shifted her shoulders and raised her head. “Where?”

Chloe lifted her arm and pointed aft. “Look there. Wait for the lightning to reveal it to you.” Time seemed to stand still then until . . . “Look. There it is again. Do you see it, Jane?” Her heart fluttered against her ribs. Her lungs constricted, and she gasped for air.

“Blimey, I saw it, too,” Jane said, shrinking back.

“Rocks dead ahead, sir!”

Jane crossed her chest. “Holy Father, protect us.”

“It’s going to be all right, Jane. I’m sure of it.” She hated the lie that tainted her lips. Already she’d begun to suspect the lead lights had been calculatingly placed to steer them
for
the rocks instead of away from them, endangering their lives like lambs being herded to slaughter. If she was right, that meant the ship in the distance had something to do with what was happening to them now. What if the other ship intended to pilfer what was left in the hold for contraband or even storm the
Mohegan
, killing all on board?

Holy charity, were they going to be victims of wreckers?

A fierce, stabbing pain pinched Chloe’s chest. If the
Mohegan
broke on the rocks, there was little chance they’d survive the tempestuous surf. She couldn’t bring herself to think of what might happen if the men on the other ship came aboard, as she suspected was their purpose.

Pirates! Was that the Black Regent’s ship?

Elation consumed her, quickly followed by a dreadful plunge into fear. But no. It couldn’t be. The Regent had never run a ship aground. That wasn’t the pirate’s style. His was a noble legacy shaking the rich to pocket the poor. She should know; she’d followed his activities closely in
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
.

No. Whoever was targeting them had more sinister plans. She had the sneaking suspicion that ship meant to drive them into the rocks in order to pilfer their stores, something she’d heard was a regular occurrence along the coast.

Oh, how I wish the Black Regent were here . . .

The horrible truth cut Chloe deeply. If they hit the rocks, not even the Regent could save them.

“Oh, m’lady, what are we to do?” Jane’s whine settled over Chloe’s shoulders like a scorching mantle that no errant wave could extinguish.

“Shh. Quiet now.” It would do neither of them any good if they lost control of their wits. “We must ask ourselves, what would Theodore do?”

“Theodore?” Jane’s eyes expanded as wide as the moon shining above them. “Ye think of
Otranto
now?”

Jane was right, of course. Chloe understood her reasoning. Just the same, she couldn’t stop the hysteria from bubbling out of her chest. “There is much to be learned from books. One only has to read the right ones.” She squeezed Jane’s hands, hoping to take her maid’s mind off their terrifying circumstances. “We must go below and collect whatever we can—money, clothes, and my book.”

“Books again?” Jane covered her eyes. “M’lady, we may die this night.”

But Chloe had made up her mind. Books were her buoys. “I will not go to my grave without my book.”

“Very well. Let us be quick before we are discovered, or worse, we are caught belowdecks
if
the ship sinks.”

“Come,” Chloe said, grabbing Jane’s hand as they snuck off toward the companionway.

They took the ladder down, then shuffled quickly through the passageway leading to their cabin. Chloe quickly pushed open the screen door. It swung off its hinge as she hurriedly went to work, gathering things they might need.

“Quickly,” she said to Jane. “Collect our clothes. I’ll claim responsibility for my belongings.”

Chloe ignored the inkwell and parchment she’d savored and grabbed her shawl instead, binding the Turkish fabric around
Otranto
in several layers before placing the book in a tapestry bag. She clutched her worldly prize to her chest and prayed it would be spared a dousing of seawater.

“We are like Emily and her servants, Annette and Ludovico, in
The Mysteries of Udolpho
fleeing for our lives.”

Jane ignored her, instead ushering Chloe to the cabin entrance. “Quickly now. We must ’urry, m’lady.”

Without a backward glance, Chloe followed Jane out of the cabin.

Men swept past them at a frenzied pace. No one even bothered to ask forgiveness for knocking the two women into a bulkhead or two.

Jane snapped at the crew, demanding they apologize to her mistress. “How dare ye! ’Ave a care, I say!”

“Do not fret, Jane.” Chloe brushed aside the crew’s rude behavior. After all, they would both owe their very lives to these men should they succeed in delaying their deaths.

“Come.” Bearing their burdens, Chloe held Jane’s hand as they ascended to the quarterdeck.

Shouts met their ears as men scurried across the deck into action.

“All hands!” the captain yelled. “We are still afloat and should count our blessings, Mr. Owens.”

Jane gasped and fell to her knees as Mr. Owens, the paged boatswain, bolted past her.

“Are you hurt?” Chloe knelt beside Jane and curled her fingers under her servant’s arms to help the girl rise to her feet. “Do not fault them.”

Captain Teague appeared then, his face a tightened mask. “What are you two doing on deck?”

Chloe raised her chin. “If we hit the rocks, sir, I shall not sit below waiting to drown.”

“Do not purchase our fate before it’s been forged.” Captain Teague’s face bloated like a hungry frog’s. “But prepare yourselves. We’re in for the fight of our lives.”

A mast emitted a terrible moan overhead, breaking away and tearing at ropes that snapped and popped, distracting the captain. “She’s fighting us.” He turned to his men. “Ho, boys! Break your backs! Man those braces!”

“The lights have disappeared!” a young lad named Tucker shouted, his face soaked with salty brine.

The
Mohegan
shifted and a rogue wave rained down over the deck. Chloe clutched her book to her chest, holding on to Jane with all her might as they scooted back across the deck trying to grab anything that wasn’t moving.

Men cried out into the blackness, and the ship crashed against the rocks, the force jolting Chloe and Jane to their knees as they fought to keep from slipping to their deaths. The deck tilted drastically to port, then back again. Beneath them, the hull let out a dreadful death knell, the timber protesting.

Jane’s fingers began to slip out of Chloe’s hand. “M’lady! Don’t let me go!”

“No, Jane. Never!” Chloe held on tightly, biting her lower lip to keep from losing her grip.

Jane clutched the bundle of their clothes to her chest.

“Let go of the satchel, Jane. Give me your other hand!”

“I wouldn’t be worth savin’ if I lost your things.”

“I have what I need most.” Pain, worry, and fear were etched into Jane’s stare while Chloe fought to keep hold of her hand. Then, all too quickly, the ship righted and, with a massive groan, heaved the other direction.

The crew struggled to operate the vessel against nature’s fury and watched helplessly as debris crushed the jolly boats positioned at the forecastle.

“Abandon ship!” Captain Teague shouted.

Without the boats or a way to debark, one by one, the men disappeared into the water, abandoning ship, while several officers and members of the crew remained on deck, trying without fail to keep the
Mohegan
afloat. In the midst of breaking timber, grinding wood, and shredding rope, Chloe could hear crew members warning one another about the rocks as they plunged into the frigid waves, splashing, shouting, swimming toward a distant haven where lantern light gleamed in the distance.

Chloe turned to Jane, hope swelling in her breast before her blood ran cold. In the melee she had somehow forgotten that Jane didn’t know how to swim. She swallowed hard. What were they to do?

The difficulty now, however, wasn’t swimming as much as being able to survive the rough surf, the rocks, and what Chloe prayed wasn’t waiting for the crew on shore—wreckers.