The Ransom (29 page)

“She gonna be all ri’, miss. A tough one, she is,” the woman said. “I ’xpect she’ll be back to ’erself in jist a few more days.” She hung the damp rag over the back of a chair and headed out the door, shouting to Abilene. “I’ll check on ye later, dearie.”

“Thank you.” Juliana called after the woman before turning to her friend. “Seems you have been well taken care of.”

Abilene took Juliana’s hand in hers and smiled, though the effort seemed to cause her pain. “Because of you. You saved my life.” Her brown eyes brimmed with gratitude.

Juliana shook her head. “Nay, ’twas … ’twas … a friend”—was the Pirate Earl a friend?—“and his doctor.”

“Aye, so I heard.” A twinkle now appeared in those eyes. “Is it true what they are saying, Juliana?”

She didn’t know what they were saying. Didn’t want to know. “No matter about that. How are you feeling?”

“Achy and sore, but stronger every day.”

“Are you getting enough food?”

“More than enough. Why, I’ll be as fat as a Christmas goose if don’t get out of bed soon.” She laid a hand on a belly that was still far too thin for Juliana’s liking.

“Fat or not, you are staying right here until you are completely well.”

Clanging bells and shouts rode in through the window on a gust of heated air, stirring up the stale smell of sickness.

Abilene stared down at her stained nightdress. “I don’t want your charity, Juliana. Especially not since your father has taken ill.”

Juliana squeezed her hand. She’d forgotten she had told her friend about her father. “’Tis not my charity.” Which reminded her. She must find this Pirate Earl and pay him back. The last thing she needed was to be indebted to a thief and scoundrel. Mayhap that had been his plan all along. Then he could demand repayment in whatever form he chose. A shudder claimed her at the thought.

“So, ’tis true then,” Abilene said, leaning back on the bed frame as if she suddenly grew tired. “My benefactor is the infamous Pirate Earl.” Her brow crinkled in concern. “But what is he to you?”

“Truth be told, I have no idea. He seems to have formed some sort of attachment.” Juliana adjusted the pillows behind her friend’s head, trying to shove the vision of the handsome pirate from her mind. “Nothing to concern yourself with. We must get you well and ensure this never happens again.”

“It won’t. At least not from that fiend Riley.”

“Why?” Juliana sat back. “What happened to him?”

“Beat to nary a spark of life left in him. Or so I heard.”

“Indeed?”

Abilene nodded, studying her friend. “You must be careful of this Pirate Earl, Juliana. I know he appears charming and intelligent, even civilized, but he’s not the sort of man you want to cross.”

Charming, intelligent, civilized
. Yes, he did appear to be all those things, along with protective and kind. Juliana swallowed. Yet she must not forget how he made his fortune: from murder, rapine, and thievery.

“In fact, you shouldn’t have come here at all,” Abilene continued, struggling to sit. “’Tis not safe.”

Juliana forced her back down. “My footman is downstairs and ’tis not yet dark.” Rays from the setting sun speared through the glassless window. She gripped both of Abilene’s hands and leaned toward her. “I wish you would come home with me, Abilene. I’ve plenty of room.”

Abilene lowered her chin. “It is too late for that. How can I face anyone after what I’ve … what I’ve become. Nay, I can never go back.” She paused as if trying to force back tears. “But your friendship means the world to me, Juliana.” She lifted glassy eyes. “You are the only one from my past who doesn’t turn their nose away in disgust.”

“How could I ever do that? You are my dear friend.” Juliana lifted Abilene’s hands to her lips as emotion burned in her throat. “I can’t stand to see you live like this.”

“’Tis my lot, I fear.”

Juliana closed her eyes, wondering why God allowed such things to happen to his children. Was Abilene even his child anymore? Would the sinful life she’d been forced into forever keep her from heaven’s gates? Juliana couldn’t bear the thought.

Instead, she diverted the conversation to more cheerful topics, and they passed the next hour giggling at the silly antics of the city’s elite—including Juliana’s feigned betrothal with Lord Munthrope. However, the easy camaraderie that had always existed between them soon caused Juliana to spill all her current troubles to her friend, especially her father’s worsening condition and the problems with Dutton Shipping. It felt good to confide in someone who cared, who understood, and whom she could trust.

“You were always so smart, Juliana. It surprises me not that you are able to stand in for your father and make a success of things.”

“That’s just it. Success seems rather elusive of late. And I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the ruse.” Rising, she struck flint to steel and lit the lantern on the table to chase away the shadows. If only she could chase away her problems as easily. “Mayhap I shall be forced to join you here before too long.” Juliana voiced her greatest fear. Abandoned by everyone. Left on the streets to rot.

“God forbid, my dear friend.” Abilene’s voice spiked with fear as she tried to rise, wincing in pain. “God forbid. Never! I won’t allow it.”

Juliana darted to her side, but the sound of boisterous laughter from below brought both their gazes to the door. “It darkens.” Abilene gripped Juliana’s hand. “You should get going.”

Juliana nodded, saddened at the thought of leaving her friend in this place. “Oh, I nearly forgot.” Opening her satchel, she pulled out a blanket, an old gown, some tallow candles, and a copy of
The Works of Sir John Suckling
.

Abilene received them with a smile, then shooed Juliana out before she could protest further.

With each tread of the stairs downward, her heart cinched tighter in her chest. The bawdy house was already brimming with patrons. An unkempt gentleman banged a tune on the harpsichord in the corner, while barmaids hoisted drinks on trays to thirsty customers. All eyes sped to her as she took the final step.

Mr. Pell was nowhere in sight.

Gulping down her fear, Juliana raised her chin and proceeded through the crowd as though she belonged there. Oddly, though the men gaped at her as if she were covered in gold, they made no move toward her nor uttered a single vulgar suggestion. Before she knew it, she stepped onto Thames Street and expelled a huge breath. The last remnants of the sun streaked saffron and magenta across the horizon, but soon the brilliant colors were swallowed up in gray as Juliana, heart still in her throat, gripped the high collar of her bodice and headed down the street.

Like cockroaches lured by the shadows, the port filled with an infestation of
sailors, pirates, Navy men, and women of the night. A horse and rider clomped down the street, a carriage ambled by, bells tolled, hawkers shouted their wares, and off-pitch music blared from punch houses and taverns. The smell of manure and spirits assailed Juliana as she ducked beneath the covered porch of a butcher shop and prayed no one would pay her any mind.

No one did. They stared, some leered, but not a single man bothered her. She was about to turn the corner to make her way to Queen Street, when a man decked in tight leather breeches and jerkin, sporting a plumed castor, stepped into her path. Even in the shadows she could make out the mischievous grin of the Pirate Earl.

The jolt of her heart betrayed her. “Oh, ’tis only you.” She kept the treasonous joy from her tone, while she cursed herself for her attraction to this ruffian.

“A pleasure to see you again as well, milady,” he said in that unmistakable deep voice that never failed to melt her insides. He made a deep obeisance with a sweep of his feathered hat.

She brushed past him, knowing he’d follow as he always did. “I suppose I have you to thank for not being accosted.”

“I accept your gratitude, paltry as it may be.” He slipped beside her, the magnitude of his presence speeding up her heart.

“’Twould seem you have great power in Port Royal, Mr. Pirate. Perchance you could use it for less nefarious purposes.”

“Milord Pirate, if you please, and alas, I believe I am. In protecting you.”

She halted beneath a street lamp and studied him in its light. Coal-black hair stretched behind him in a tie, save one strand dangling over his forehead. Strong, shadowed jaw, aquiline nose, and lips that seemed stuck in a perpetual smirk. “I refer to halting your pillaging and plundering, sir.”

His eyes twinkled. “One must start small on the road to redemption.”

“And does bludgeoning a fellow pirate to near death suffice as a great start on this journey of light?” She tapped the tip of her parasol in the dirt.

For a moment he seemed perplexed. “Ah, you speak of Riley.”

“Yes, Riley.” She planted a hand at her waist. “You nearly killed him.”

“
Nearly
being the operative word. And ’twas not me but my men who, dare I say, embellished a bit on my instructions.” With finger and thumb he eased down the sides of his mouth, shooting a spark of familiarity through her.

And befuddling her mind. Still, hadn’t Riley gotten what he deserved? She sighed. “It is unclear whether I should chastise you or thank you.”

“Milord!” a man shouted from across the street.

Mr. Pirate nodded in return before he faced her again. “I much prefer your thanks.”

His grin disarmed her. Clutching her skirts, she started walking again. Not because she wished to leave this man but because of the way he was looking at her.

As if she were a rare treasure he’d forfeit his life to protect.

“However, I do believe the weasel got the message,” he said, keeping her pace. ”I won’t allow women to be thus treated in my town.”

“Is it your town now?” She chuckled.

“Parts of it. The parts that you insist on visiting after dark.” One brow lifted below a scarred divot in his forehead. Odd. ’Twas the same spot Munthrope always wore that silly horse patch. Why did she always think of that ninny when the Pirate Earl was near? Made no sense.

She frowned. “I was visiting Miss Abilene, if you must know. She looks well.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

Stopping, she faced him. “’Tis due to your kindness, Mr. Pirate, though I have no idea why you would care for the wellbeing of a tavern wench.”

“That kindness, milady, as foreign as it may seem for pirates, I owe to you.” He rested his hand on the hilt of the cutlass hanging at his side. “I fear you bring out what little good remains in my dark soul.” His tone lacked its usual taunt.

“Have a care, Mr. Pirate, I may reform you yet.” She dared to smile.

“That is my undying hope.”

His eyes pierced hers, the intensity within their blue depths sending her stomach awhirl.

What was she doing? She looked away. “Nevertheless, only God can cure a dark soul. I suggest you seek him out.”

“I have, and alas, he is nowhere to be found.”

“Then you have not looked hard enough.” She hugged herself. “I intend to repay you for helping Abilene.”

The touch of his finger on her cheek snapped her gaze to the mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can think of a number of ways.” He smiled.

Jerking from his touch, she took a step back. “Money is all I have to offer.” Though she had none at the moment. She started down the street again. A breeze stirred the hair hanging at her neck and brought an odd scent of cinnamon mixed with leather and gunpowder. It reminded her of something … someone. But she didn’t have time to ponder it before a band of colorfully-dressed men approached, spotted Mr. Pirate, and nodded toward him. Tipping their hats at her, they wove around them, one of them slapping Mr. Pirate on the arm. “Comely lass ye got there, milord.”

Mr. Pirate winced and started to clutch his arm where the man had touched him, but then dropped his hand and acknowledged the men as they passed.

They walked on in silence. Light from street lamps gleamed off the brass-handled pistols stuffed in the baldric across his chest. His heavy boots crunched the sand. And Juliana desperately sought her mind for ways to be rid of him.

All the while desperately wanting him to stay.

“What is wrong with your arm?” she asked to break the silence.

“A bruise. ’Tis nothing.”

“No doubt gained from murdering some poor Spanish sailor.”

“I believe he was French, milady.”

She knew he was teasing her. Or was he? No matter. It confirmed just how dangerous this man truly was. Something she must never forget.

She stopped in front of her house and faced him. “What is it you want from me, Mr. Pirate? And how do you know where I live?”

“I know everything about this town. And I merely seek your friendship.”

“If you know everything, then you know that friendship is not within my power to give you.”

He leaned toward her, his warm breath wafting over her cheek. “Ofttimes friendship is not given but merely blossoms unannounced.”

Stepping back from his nearness, she glanced at her home and released a heavy sigh. “I assure you nothing is blossoming in my life at the moment.”