The Pirate's Jewel (18 page)

Her opponent drew his sword without any such nervous
hesitation—though not as swiftly as if he had not been recently injured. His
sluggish movements might save her. He struck her blade with his, and it sent a
rattle up her arm. She could hear swords clank violently nearby. Nolan’s wound
must have slowed him, because it sounded as if he was fighting for his life.
Her own opponent’s dulled reactions gave her time to compose herself. She
loosened her grip, bent her knees and thrust, hoping to knock the sword from
the clumsy, injured man.

His reflexes were rapidly improving, though, and he parried
before she had a chance to formulate another move. Thankfully, information from
her daily lessons came back to her instinctively. She met his thrust with one
of her own. The battle was on. She used the sword as an extension of her body.
The man stepped back and readjusted his stance, as if he had suddenly decided
to take her seriously.

Jewel stopped thinking and let her training take over. Thrust
right. Parry left. Look for the open spot.

She faked low. Her opponent followed her movement, and a
target presented itself. She thrust hard. Her blade sank into the center of her
opponent’s chest. He staggered back, while Jewel prepared for his next attack. Even
in the dark, she witnessed his expression of stunned surprise as he fell to his
knees. Only then did she notice the red swatch that spread across his white vest.
He still gripped his sword, but it hung loosely by his side.

She glanced down at her blood-coated blade. It suddenly
occurred to her that she held a deadly weapon instead of the sawed-off
broomstick she’d used to practice with Harvey. She dropped her sword and ran to
the downed man. He had rolled onto his side, his legs sprawled awkwardly. He
had stopped gasping, stopped breathing at all.

Jewel dropped to her knees and heaved him onto his back.
She placed her hand on his soaked shirt, thinking she might stop the blood—take
back what she had done. He stared without blinking. She slapped his cheek,
hoping he was just stunned. A bloody imprint stained his tan cheek, but he
didn’t even blink. She angled his face so she could see his eyes, praying she’d
find a sign of life. To her shock, he appeared her own age. Maybe even younger.
As he stared—wide-eyed, mouth open in a desperate, last breath—he looked
harmless. He could have been one of her customers at the Quail and Queen. He
might have been one of her customers.

“No!” she whispered fiercely and shook him. “Wake up.”

A strong arm snaked around her waist and yanked her off
her feet. She was dragged away from her victim before she knew what was
happening. Even so, she couldn’t react. Her world had tilted and everything looked
different. She didn’t know if she could stand, but Nolan didn’t give her the
chance to find out. He half-carried, half-dragged her to the railing.

She saw another fallen man. His eyes were shut and he
wasn’t moving. “Is he dead, too?” she whispered, and closed her eyes tightly.
She couldn’t bear to witness any more bloodshed. Her stomach already threatened
to empty.

Nolan lifted her over the rail. “Can you swim?”

She opened her eyes. “No.”

“Then hold on.” Before she had time to think what he
meant, he had climbed over. He had one arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
She realized what he was about to do only seconds before they were falling.

Thankfully she had not looked before they leapt, but the
drop seemed like forever. She clutched at Nolan. They hit the water so hard,
Jewel thought she might lose consciousness. She instinctively gasped for breath
and got a lungful of burning water. She lost her grip on Nolan, sure she
wouldn’t open her eyes again. Instead of sinking deeper, he held her tightly
pressed against his chest. The urge to struggle, to get away from the pressure
that gripped her lungs, forced her to try to shove him away. He only held her
tighter, pinning her arms against her. Somehow they surged up above the
waterline before Jewel had the chance to suck in any more water. She choked and
sputtered, gasping for breath.

“Stop fighting me. I’ve got you,” Nolan said.

She stopped thrashing at his rebuke, hardly aware that she’d
been doing so. Too weak to do otherwise, she let Nolan guide her through the
water until, without a word of warning, strong arms yanked her into the skiff.
Her eyes burned from the saltwater, and her throat ached from swallowing the
stuff. No wonder she had never had the urge to learn to swim. Who would want
to? She was soaked from the inside out and completely numb. The men shoved her
in the back of the boat, forcing her to sit in the bottom. She felt like a big
fish being taken home for supper. A big, dead fish. Nothing would ever be right
again. Her childhood dreams of adventure had turned into a nightmare that even
Nolan couldn’t wake her from.

“Cut the anchor line!” Nolan yelled as he hauled himself over
the
Integrity
’s railing.

“We’ve almost got her raised, Cap’n.”

Seven strong crew members leaned all their weight against
the wooden arms of the capstan to raise the anchor from the ocean’s depth.
Their grunts of exertion revealed their understanding of the need for a quick
departure. The newly rescued crewmen joined their mates, and the capstan
practically spun on its axis.

“Good work, Mr. Lamont.” Nolan raced to take the helm.
“Raise the sails. Unfurl the main!” Thankfully, the tide was with them. One man
was dead, another wounded. The British wouldn’t take that lightly. They were in
on the beginning of a rebellion, and Nolan loved it.

The fight had exhilarated him. He could still feel his
heart racing. It had been a long while since he had done physical battle, and
even longer since battle had moved him. His last years with Bellamy had been
numbing. He had seen so much bloodshed, and his skill had grown to the point
where he had lost all fear. Worse, he’d been fighting for things he’d stopped
believing in. He’d been fighting for monetary gain.

Nolan spun the wheel hard to the right, readying the
Integrity
to fly from the harbor once the main sail was unfurled. Tonight’s battle had
been different. This truly had been about freedom and a man’s choice of how he would
live his life, not a young boy’s wayward wish for glory and adventure.

The wind caught the ship’s sails, and the
Integrity
was thrust forward, racing off to their next destination. For Nolan, it was
almost ecstasy. Almost.

His thoughts turned to Jewel. God, but she had surprised
him. At first her presence on the
Neptune
had sent cold fear running
down his spine, but then there was no time to think at all. Jewel had matched
her opponent thrust for thrust. And she had bloody well saved his life. With
the cut on his arm, he couldn’t have defended himself against two men. He
realized, with only a slight twinge of horror, that he was glad she’d killed
her opponent. During the battle, Nolan had almost forfeited his own fight with
his constant glances her way.

He looked down at his wound for the first time, finding
his wet sleeve colored with blood and a healthy dose of red dotting the puddle
of sea water at his feet. Once they were safely out to sea, there would be time
to attend to it.

They cleared the harbor. As they did, Nolan let up on the
helm and pointed the
Integrity
on a steady course, running with the wind
astern. Jewel had had no other choice but to aim for her victim’s heart. She
couldn’t risk a flesh wound. Her opponent had outweighed her by almost double.
He would have killed her if he had gotten his hands on her. Death was her only option,
and Nolan was glad she’d had the courage to take it.

He steadied the wheel against a fierce wind. Waves had
begun to crawl over the deck in regular intervals. A storm was brewing. Nolan
checked the sky to find the stars being crowded out by roiling clouds shot through
with charcoal gray. Hurricane season had hardly begun, but he was well
acquainted with the unpredictability of the sea. He wouldn’t be surprised with
anything thrown his way. After tonight’s triumph, he felt as if he could conquer
anything.

A huge swell broke over the deck. He was already soaked,
so Nolan took little notice when the foam washed over his ruined boots. At
least it wiped away the traces of blood from his arm. Ignoring the growing throb
in his wound, he ordered the main topsail reefed against the growing howl of
wind.

Parker rushed forward, out of breath. “Something’s wrong
with Jewel. She’s sick.”

Nolan raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t take his gaze off
the churning sea. “Seasickness?” He hadn’t noticed Jewel to be affected before,
but the ocean had definitely turned wicked as they’d veered away from the
shelter of the Bahamas. Or was it...

Nolan could have kicked himself. How could he have forgotten
how Jewel would feel after killing a man? She’d fought so well, it hadn’t
occurred to him she had never killed before.

He had been like her once, and he remembered the first
time he ran a man through. He’d been so exhilarated from fear and victory, he
hadn’t thought of the life he had taken until he closed his eyes to sleep.
Then, the restless night had been spent unwillingly recalling the features of
the dead man.

He’d been burly and twice Nolan’s age. The fight had broken
out in a tavern after a late night of drinking and whoring. Nolan had been too
young to do much of either, but he’d had no choice but to join in the fray or
he wouldn’t have left the tavern alive. The man had engaged him, no doubt
expecting an easy kill to warm up his sword arm. Desperation had made Nolan
quick, and he’d stuck the man in the gut before his opponent ever took a proper
jab. The man had died with shocked surprise on his face. His eyes had stared at
Nolan all night. If he tried, Nolan could still remember. Over the years, he’d
learned never to try.

“Take the helm. I’ll see to her. Is she in her cabin?” he
asked.

Parker relaxed visibly. Obviously he found steering a ship
into a storm a preferable task to dealing with a hysterical woman. “She’s
hanging over the railing. You can’t miss her. Wayland’s with her.”

Nolan heard Jewel before he saw her. Her sobs drifted over
the roar of the waves, and he braced himself against the tumble of emotions she
evoked. Empathy, compassion—and a protectiveness laced with a possessiveness he
recognized as all too dangerous—collided and surged in chorus with the storm.
He didn’t want anyone else to be with Jewel but him.

Despite the warning that urged him to stay clear of her,
Nolan quickened his pace. Wayland had his arm around Jewel, keeping her from
tumbling off the ship in the event of a large swell. She had her head hung over
the side and didn’t see him approach.

He gestured with a nod of his head for Wayland to go. For
once, the man eagerly obeyed.

Nolan wrapped his arm around Jewel’s stomach, bracing her
backside against him so he could massage her shoulders with his other hand. She
instantly stiffened at the intimacy.

“It’s all right. I know you’re hurting. I should have been
here sooner,” he said in a soothing tone he hadn’t even known he possessed.

She relaxed against him, and Nolan bit back a groan. She
felt so good. But it hadn’t been his intent to take advantage, just to comfort
her. And he’d be damned if he would give in to how she felt.

“Harvey never taught me to wound my opponents, just to
kill them,” she said suddenly. “I think he thought I was just having fun and
would never get into a real swordfight,” she added between sniffles.

“I think he taught you well. You had no choice. In a real
fight, you can’t aim to wound when your opponent is aiming to kill.”

“But
you
didn’t kill...” Her words trailed off. He heard
her ragged breaths and understood she was struggling not to cry.

“I probably should have. Dead men can’t tell tales, nor
can they find you later.”

Jewel shivered. “I can’t think like that.”

He pulled her more snugly against him, wrapping her in his
arms to warm her with his body. “It’s the only way, if you live by the sword.
Your father taught me that.”

Her slight tremble warned him that she had given into her
tears. The silent sobs were worse than any loud, hair-raising ones. Why was he
saying this? He was supposed to be comforting her, not sharing his feelings.
“It was a hard lesson to learn for me, too, Jewel, but learning it kept me
alive. I’m glad you did what you did, or we could have been the ones left lying
on the
Neptune
’s deck.”

“I wish I had died.”

Nolan squeezed her tightly. “Don’t say that!” She remained
motionless in his arms. He turned her to face him, squeezing her arms. “Don’t
ever say that again.”

She hung her head, avoiding his gaze. “I feel so wretched.
I was a fool to sneak onto your ship in the first place.”

And in that moment, Nolan realized the extent to which his
life had changed because she had. If she hadn’t forced her way into his life,
he would have likely spent years chasing a false trail. She’d seen something he
never would have. She was a kind, smart, beautiful woman. And though he tried
to convince himself those were the only reasons he experienced such a
tremendous sense of loss at her words of woe, he couldn’t.

He lifted Jewel’s chin, forcing her to gaze up at him.
“You saved my life,” was all he felt safe revealing. A tremendous surge of
emotion savagely swamped him, leaving him as off balance as his ship riding the
storm. “You need to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel better.” She leaned her forehead
on his chest.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. The brisk wind
had chilled her wet clothing. Her shirt felt like a sheet of ice. He kissed the
top of her head, pulling her into him. A drop of rain fell on his cheek. He
lifted his head before he became lost in the embrace. Luckily, none of the crew
paid any attention. They were too busy reacting to the storm.