“Feeling any better?” Percy asked softly, not knowing how else to offer comfort in such a moment.
Heather took a stuttered breath and nodded slightly. “Fractionally.” Her eyes slid closed. “I owe you my thanks, as well, Percy.”
“I—of course,” he returned, nonplussed. “You’re welcome.”
A series of loud shouts rose up above them, followed closely by the sharp ringing of the bell. Heather flinched, and Percy shot to his feet.
“Prepare for battle!” a voice bellowed.
Percy froze.
Impossible. How had a ship come upon them so quickly? A chase often lasted hours, even days. Surely a topman would have noticed long before now that a ship was in pursuit.
“Run out the guns!” someone shouted.
“Hell,” Percy breathed. “Something isn’t right. I have to go.” He turned to Heather, his tone urgent. “Remain hidden. Bar the door behind me, and do not open it for anyone.”
And with that, he left, closing the door on the woman who could be carrying his child.
On the mess deck, the night shift of men scrambled to ready themselves for battle, some still dressed. Some ran belowdecks toward the magazine, while others darted above. Percy ascended to the gun deck, where the cannons and carronades were being run out, and his gut knotted.
What the devil am I doing?Heat spread across his chest, and nerves twisted inside him. He ought to be with Heather, not leaving her to hide. What would he do should theSapphirebe boarded? What if he was engaged above deck and something happened to Heather? She’d begun her training, but she was by no means an experienced fighter.
Two men jostled him as they hurried past, and Percy blinked.Ballocks. He turned on his heel to return belowdecks when an officer appeared before him.
“To your duties, linesman,” the officer grunted, thrusting a water-filled bucket and a French cutlass at him, his eyes creased with poorly disguised trepidation. “Pirates are approaching. Fast.”
The small cabinechoed with the sound of Heather’s agitated breathing, men shouting, footfalls overhead, and the rushing of her pulse in her ears. Had the maids been ushered to an officer’s cabin, or had they been sent to the hold? The Earl of Shite had undoubtedly commandeered the captain’s cabin in which to hide, and demanded his men stand as personal protection. The bloody coward.
Oh, blast, her plants! The surviving plants were in the hold. She hoped no harm came to them during the battle.
More shouts rose up overhead, and nausea churned in Heather’s stomach. Aware that she might soon be required to flee—and abhorring the metallic tang on her tongue—she hastily retrieved her tooth powder and toothbrush and set to cleaning her mouth.
Battle. The word whispered through her mind as she brushed.
Footfalls raced back and forth, followed by heavy thuds.Are those bodies or cannonballs?She loathed not knowing what was happening and not being able to help.
A detestable sense of helplessness stole over her, and she retreated once more to her swinging bed.
Boom!Her cabin vibrated with the first blast of a cannon, and, for the first time, a tremor of fear shot through her nerves.
Battle. It wasn’t just between the men, it was between the sodding ships. But what of the ship meant to be sailingbehind theSapphire? There was no way of knowing if they’d encountered these attackers first, or if the attackers approached from another direction. If their partnered ship hadn’t been attacked, surely they would soon come upon them and offer their aid. Two ships against one would see them to victory against these aggressors.
Boom-boom!Two more blasts, followed closely by the bellows of men. Heather’s breath caught.
Pulling her legs to her breasts, she trained her ears above her, listening to every movement and wondering if Percy was all right.
Boom…boom…boom…
“Ready to turn, lads!”the officer said.
Percy tugged on his forelock and obeyed the order, set to line up the ship in preparation for battle. He pulled on the halyard, keeping the rope taut and awaiting his next command. But despite the overwrought air surrounding him, his gaze drifted to the companionway.
Was Heather still unwell? Was she frightened? Hell, he ought to have defied orders and returned to her cabin to be with her.
“Turn!” the officer shouted, as the topmen worked and gunners scrambled along the deck, preparing the cannons.
Avoiding being cut by the French cutlass tucked into his newly found belt, Percy heaved hard on the halyard, his hands fisting one over the other as he pulled. The rope reached its end, and he swiftly tied it off at the main jeer-bitts.
