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Authors: Cheryl Howe

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BOOK: The Pirate's Jewel
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Nolan could feel himself snarl.

The two crewmen took off their shirts when the ground
proved hard and unyielding. Nolan’s plan had been to take shifts, but the men’s
slow pace changed his mind. He pushed away from the tree where he’d been
leaning, intending to help.

“Let’s explore the island. Parker, would you mind going
with me?” Jewel asked.

Nolan took off his jacket. “The hell you will. Mr. Tyrell
is on duty.”

“I don’t think she should go off alone, Captain,” Parker
said. He eyed Nolan, the first time he’d ever openly questioned him.

Jewel’s glare told Nolan she wasn’t about to respect his
wishes. “We’re doing nothing but watching them dig. And though you think
otherwise, I’d like to see if that hill over there looks…” She stopped herself
before she revealed anything about the map. “I don’t see why it would hurt for
us to look around a little more. At the rate these men are going, it could take
another hour before they’re deep enough to know if the treasure is there or
not.”

“Thank you for being so observant. I think we all should
dig.” Nolan bent down and grabbed a shovel. He flung it at Parker. “Start.”

Nolan rolled up his sleeves. Parker followed his lead with
only a weak shrug of apology to Jewel. Nolan grabbed another shovel and started
digging a few yards from where the crewmen worked. Jewel plopped down under the
canopy of a large elm. Wayland sauntered over and slid his back down the trunk
of the same tree. Jewel scooted away, her face averted.

Nolan glanced between the two of them with sudden insight.
The distance he had put between Jewel and himself wasn’t enough to warrant her
hatred. Wayland had caused this change in her. Nolan was certain of it.
“Wayland, get over here and start digging.”

“I’m not a digger, Captain. I’ll leave that to you land men.”
The old pirate chuckled.

Nolan stomped over with a shovel in his hand. “Start digging
or say hello to your new home.”

Wayland shrugged and pushed himself to his feet. Nolan
couldn’t stop himself from scowling. The pirate had told Jewel something about
them—something about their tainted past perhaps—and it had turned her against them
both.

A chill swept over his damp skin in spite of the hot day.
If Wayland had revealed the truth about her father’s death, Jewel would be more
than a little angry. She’d be out for blood. His blood. Nolan rammed his shovel
into the rocky earth with enough force to send a jolt up his arm. Maybe she was
contemplating slitting his throat in the middle of the night. Not for the first
time, he had doubts about who Jewel Sanderson was. What had she said about
making assumptions about a person?

Nolan had the next three hours to ponder that question.
His foul mood stopped anyone from commenting when the dirt became mud and then
the mud, water. The sun sunk behind a clump of pines, taking with it every last
bit of warmth left over from the fiercely hot day. That the treasure was not
here grew more painfully obvious with the sucking sound of each mound of wet mud
they removed.

Wayland leaned on his shovel. “Hey, Nolan, you didn’t say
nothing about me having to take a bath. I’m not due for another month.”

The other men’s chuckles were cut off. Nolan didn’t say
anything or even look their way, but irritation rolled off him in waves. His
shovel entered the earth with such force, mud splashed the length of his pants
and onto his white shirt.

“Maybe we should stop until tomorrow.” Jewel stood at the
edge of the pit, her hands clasped in front of her as if she were praying.

Nolan planted his shovel in the mud. “Or before we drown.”

The men chuckled again under their breath. At least they
still had senses of humor. Nolan should have stopped the futile search long
ago, but he wasn’t willing to admit failure in front of Jewel. The prick of jealousy
that had started this day had festered into a roaring bad mood. Giving up empty-handed
made him volatile. Especially since Jewel had suggested digging elsewhere.

“We’re done here.” When Nolan tried to climb out, his foot
slipped on the hole’s wet wall. Behind him he heard a slurping splash. One of
the crew had fallen flat on his back. Parker and the other crewman trudged
through the muck to help him. Nolan turned to find Jewel’s pale hand looming
before him.

“Let me help you out.” She leaned into the hole, her feet
braced and her arm outstretched.

A smile crept to Nolan’s face. How easy it would be to
yank her in. It would ruin her dress, but hell, he’d bought the damn thing.
That same damn dress had his head spinning. Nolan lost his smirk. “I wouldn’t
want to ruin your pretty clothes, Miss Sanderson.”

Jewel straightened and turned abruptly. Her twirling skirt
whipped across Nolan’s cheek. She stomped to the other side of the pit where
Parker and the other crewmen helped their fallen comrade out. She didn’t glance
Nolan’s way again.

“You need to work on your manners. You could piss off an
ugly whore.” Wayland reached down to Nolan from the side of the pit. He hadn’t
even noticed the old man getting out. With no other help likely to come his way,
Nolan took the proffered hand. Wayland pulled with surprising strength, helping
Nolan get a foothold in the mud.

“I’m not so desperate that I need to learn them from you.”
Nolan brushed off his clothing, and then stopped when he just smeared the mud
around.

“You could have fooled me.” Wayland shrugged, sauntering
down the hill and disappearing into the night.

Jewel stood by the large elm, a safe distance from the mud.
Nolan went to the rescue of his crew. He reached down and pulled Parker out
first. “Mr. Tyrell, I’ll leave you in charge of rescuing our crewmen and
refilling the hole. I need to chart a new course. We’re done here.”

He picked up an armful of shovels and trudged in the
direction they’d come without a backward glance. Let Parker get Jewel back to
the ship. He was sure they both preferred it that way.

The rustle of skirts forced him to glance to his side. Jewel
raised her gown off the ground, taking two strides to his one to keep up. He
didn’t slow his pace. If she had any sense, which he doubted, she’d not try to talk
to him until he’d had a bath and a large tankard of ale.

“You don’t want to try again tomorrow?” she asked hesitantly.

“No.” He lengthened his stride, hoping she’d take the hint.

“At least you gave it your best try. We know now the treasure’s
not here.”

Nolan stopped. “Which only leaves us the rest of the world
to search. Thank you, Jewel. I feel much better.”

She blinked, and her tentative smile fell. “You don’t have
to be so nasty.”

“Maybe I’m a bit testy because I’m covered in a layer of
cold mud and had to spend the day watching you preen like a princess in your
crisp party frock.” A vein in Nolan’s forehead started to pound. He sensed he
was overreacting, but he’d been wrestling with his temper all day and no longer
had the energy or will to continue.

Jewel returned his angry stare with fire. “What did you
expect me to do? There were more than enough of you digging. I think you
reached China.”

“Just think, a whole continent of men you haven’t yet captured
in your web. I’m sure you’d love that.” Nolan picked up his pace.

Jewel was right behind him. He had to admire her tenacity.
His tone alone quelled men twice her size. “Has it ever occurred to you that a
man might find me interesting for reasons other that what I have to offer
beneath my skirts?”

Nolan stopped abruptly. Surely she jested. “Perhaps, but
Parker’s not one of them. Don’t let that boyish face fool you. He’ll have you
on your back if you give him half a chance.” He could tell her about Parker’s
sometime reputation for whoring, but he didn’t want to reveal something his
lieutenant wouldn’t himself. Damn it. It made him angrier that she was coming
between him and his only educated crewmember—even if the man had a weakness for
easy and readily available sex.

Jewel paused, obviously considering. “I’m not sure that I
believe you. Even so, Parker is my friend. And right now I need one.”

Nolan shifted his armful of shovels, again thankful he
couldn’t get his hands on her. “Fine. But be careful. And don’t tell him
anything.”

“Trust no one. I remember.” She smirked as if he were a
lunatic.

“That’s right, Jewel. Your father taught me well when he
stole that map. He was less trustworthy than anyone.”

“I don’t believe you. And Wayland was wrong—you’re worse
than my father ever was.” Jewel turned and ran back toward Parker and the
others.

Nolan watched her go, battling the impulse to drop the
shovels and chase after her. In the end, he let her be swallowed by the falling
night.

Finding out what Wayland had told her was his first priority.
He needed to know what weapons the enemy held. With Jewel armed with
information regarding her father and Parker’s apparent interest, he could see
another mutiny in his lifetime.

***

 

After a cold, saltwater bath and a change of clothes, Nolan
found Wayland sitting against a railing, his feet atop a pile of rope. A new
hat pulled low covered his eyes. In fact, he wore a new coat and trousers as well.
The somber dark blue wool didn’t match Wayland’s usual macabre style.

Nolan instantly grew suspicious. “Where did you get the
clothes, Wayland?”

The man didn’t budge from his relaxed position. “Won ’em
off a fella. No cheating.” He shifted enough to fish something from his pocket,
and then held out his hand. The whiteness of dice shown against his palm in the
weak light cast by the scattered stars and waning moon.

Nolan snatched them away. “I’d comment on your sense of
fair play, except for the fact that I don’t allow gambling on this ship.” He
took the ivory cubes to check to see if they were loaded. The sharp jolt that
urged him to roll them, just once, just to see if he still had the touch, had
him tossing them over the railing and into the ocean. “Who did you win them
from?”

Wayland crossed and uncrossed his legs until he found a
better lounging position. “Aw, that’s a shame. You should have played me for
them. Like the old days.”

The way the old pirate steadily stared urged Nolan to look
away for fear of revealing how the idea had briefly crossed his mind. Instead,
he held Wayland’s gaze.

“I’m only going to ask you one more time before you follow
those dice. Who’d you win the clothes from?”

Wayland grinned, as if he found Nolan’s increasing irritation
endlessly amusing. “You’ll find out soon enough. The boy was complaining he’d
have to work in his birthday suit.”

Nolan kicked the man’s feet off the coiled rope with the
heel of his boot. “Don’t take, win, or steal my crew’s personal possessions.
They’re honest working men. They’ve earned every meager scrap they own.”

Wayland quickly regained his balance. He rested his hands
on his bent knees, as relaxed as ever. “I wouldn’t have had to get me a new set
of clothes if you hadn’t ruined mine playing in the mud.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have put you out.” Nolan half-apologized,
partly because it was true and partly because he had something more important
on his mind. “Get up. I need to talk to you.”

“Got a bug up your arse?”

“Something like that, or rather a rat on my ship. He’s got
one blue eye and one brown.”

“Spit it out.” Wayland slowly rose to his feet. Though he
outweighed the man by at least two and a half stone, Nolan struggled to resist
the impulse to step back. Once, he would have thought himself a fool to face a seasoned
pirate without a recently honed dagger in his fist.

But Nolan held his ground, and he was satisfied when
Wayland kept a cool distance between them. A quick glance around the main deck
showed the scattered glow of pipes being smoked by crew who had finished their
shift. The off-tune wail of a fiddler in training cut through the rhythmic
crash of the waves. Nolan gestured toward the bow with a crook of his head.
“It’s private. A matter between two old friends.”

He let Wayland precede him, not entirely trusting of their
shaky truce. Even if he could control the present, Nolan couldn’t change the
past—and that was his biggest obstacle. The longer he thought about it, the
more worried he was by Wayland’s potential to poison Jewel’s mind. His need to
play fair had left her in control of the map. Gardiner’s Island had been a wild
goose chase—one that Nolan imagined wouldn’t be the last. The only real clue
anyone had to point them in the right direction was the map. Though he’d been
disappointed the directions hadn’t been clear even with his knowledge of Latin,
nor with the mysterious book on the occult, he’d found out everything he could
about his grandfather’s voyage these last five years. Following Kent’s final
passage, they would surely stumble onto the right path eventually—but he
wouldn’t even know it if he didn’t hold the map, which meant he had to hold on
to Jewel.

Even at anchor, a cold wind thick with mist blew across
the deserted bow. Like their expedition to find the treasure, the day had taken
a bitter turn.

Wayland stepped back. “Hell, I had to get wet to get the
mud off me. I don’t want to do it again.”

Nolan grabbed his sleeve. “What did you tell Jewel?”

Alone with the man, he no longer had the restraint to act
even-tempered.

Wayland jerked his arm away. “Hands off, boy! This is the
best short coat I’ve had in years.”

“You told Jewel something about me and her father. What
was it?”

Wayland tugged on the bottom of his jacket. “She just thought
you’d leave her once you put a babe in her belly—like Bellamy left her mother.
Don’t worry. I told her you wouldn’t.”

Nolan stepped back as if Wayland had struck him. “Why
would you two be having such a conversation in the first place? I’ve hardly
even kissed her.”

BOOK: The Pirate's Jewel
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