The man turned his attention to Jemma, trying to peer past Ben’s shoulder. But the formidable smuggler was too large for the privateer to see the petite woman.
“My wife goes nowhere without me. You are not handing her over to that defiler, MacNeil. I can promise you I have more than enough means to pay whatever he is and more.” Ben’s eyes locked with his adversary.
“Gunpowder. That is what I will accept in exchange. His lordship talks too much when he’s in his cups. You keep your wife in exchange for gunpowder.”
“That is the one thing I don’t have.” It wasn’t untrue. There was none at Rowe House. He would have to travel to Bedruthan Steps for more. What he’d delivered to Theo weeks ago was likely in a lead ball buried in a Frenchman’s chest or an American’s skull. Another courier wound up taking Steven’s last shipment to William Abbington because Ben went back to Bedruthan Steps to inform his family of his impending nuptials.
“That is unfortunate.” MacNeil signaled his men, who charged forward. They jostled him and reached for Jemma as Ben fired his pistol, striking the privateer in the side. Blood immediately bloomed on the man’s shirt. In turn, the privateer raised his gun, but too many of his men shifted into the way. Ben lashed out, drawing a knife from his boot. He killed two men before flying fists beat him to the ground. He struggled against his attackers as Jemma scrambled to reach him. It took six men to hold him down as two men fought to restrain Jemma. MacNeil sauntered forward and pointed his gun down at Ben, who sprawled on the ground.
“Come with me, my lady, or you will be a widow on your wedding day.” MacNeil spoke to Jemma, surprising her and Ben with his acknowledgement of their special day, but he watched Ben. “This is no coincidence, Pedrick.”
“I will kill you.” Ben bellowed as men dragged Jemma from him. He wrestled the others restraining him, but they outnumbered him. Jemma twisted and writhed, making it difficult for the men. She threw her elbow back into one man’s gut and slammed her head into another’s throat. She was free long enough to dash back to Ben, but she soon found herself over MacNeil’s shoulder.
“My lady, cease, or you seal your husband’s fate.” The privateer shifted with a grunt, adjusting Jemma, and tugging on his wound. His gaze once more locked with Ben’s. “I do not molest women, nor do I allow men to do so.”
Ben canted his head. There was something MacNeil was telling him without saying it outright. Perhaps the privateer had a moral code of some sort, but what did he think would happen to Jemma when he handed her over to Zachary? The earnestness in the sea captain’s eyes gave Ben a moment of pause. Could MacNeil speak the truth? Or was he such a masterful liar he thought to fool Ben?
Before Ben could ask questions, a fist plowed into his temple. The last thing he saw was the privateer backing away with his wife held captive. Then the world went black as Jemma screamed his name. A moment later, there was nothing.
Jemma kicked and flailed as MacNeil carried her to the beach and onto his ship. She fisted both of her hands and drove them into his kidneys. She yanked at his hair. She tried to kick him in his bollocks. But nothing garnered any attention until she tried to stick her finger in his bullet wound. He roared and practically threw her across the deck. She landed hard, hitting her head on the wood planking.
MacNeil pressed his hand over his wound and bent over Jemma. “This can go one of two ways. You can be docile and not tied to the mast, or you can find yourself a real prisoner aboard my ship.”
“How do I know you’re not lying about either of those choices? You already lied to my husband. There is no way that degenerate won’t molest me. You claim I’m safe, yet you will hand me over to the man who tried to rape my cousin’s wife.”
“I said he would pay me good coin for you. I didn’t say I would actually hand you over. The man is a fool and is a kitten compared to this lion. He’s pompous enough to believe me. I will get my money, but he will not get you.”
“Then what will you do to me?” Jemma observed the privateer, and something about him seemed believable. Perhaps it was the nonchalance with which he spoke, as though what he said was too obvious to need stating. Or perhaps there was honor amongst thieves, since Ben was a smuggler, and she was the daughter of one.
“You shall sail with me for a few days before you find yourself on land near safe harbor. I’m certain you will reunite with your husband soon enough.”
“This makes no sense.”
“It will soon enough. So, your choice, my lady?”
“I will behave, but I’m no lamb. I’m not docile.”
“I believe that. Your husband is a lucky man.” He turned away but paused and turned back. “You remind me of someone I have only seen from afar.”
“Who?” Jemma wondered. “What’s your Christian name?”
MacNeil snorted but answered. “Keith, my lady.”
“Scottish names, yet you don’t sound it.”
“Diluted bloodline, I suppose. I’m as English as they come.” Keith MacNeil, the Blonde Marauder, bowed before disappearing below deck. He kept a watchful eye on her whilethey sailed for the next two days. She was certain she witnessed budding respect in his gaze, since she complained not once. She snapped and snarled at men who drew too close, but she never spoke against the captain. In turn, his punishment for men who approached her was swift and merciless.
When they finally dropped anchor, and she was allowed to walk to the rail, her mouth fell open. She spun to look at Keith. “What are we doing here?”
Jemma recognized the coastline. They were nearly to her cousin Lydia’s home in Lyme Regis. Lydia’s father wouldn’t tolerate her captivity if he learned of it. Keith played a dangerous game, but Jemma suspected it wasn’t his first round. Rather than receive an answer to her question, Keith ordered her into a rowboat. He draped a cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood over her hair before sitting next to her. As they approached the beach, she saw men loitering. The call went out when the cluster spotted the approaching dinghy.
“Remain silent, my lady. If you wish to see your husband again, then do not speak. I have control, but if you do not behave, I risk losing it. Once I no longer have it, I cannot guarantee your safety. Do you understand?”
Jemma nodded without shifting her focus from the group on the beach. She recognized Zachary immediately. He marched to the water’s edge and stood with his hands on his hips, his haughty expression testing Jemma’s resolve not to make a peep.
“My lord, I have your cargo. She is yours once you pay.”
“No. I’ve paid you half. You get the rest when she is mine.”
