Yet genuine concern crossed his brown eyes.“Are you all right, my lady?”
“Aye.As good as I can be.”She feigned a calm expression, devoid of pain.
“Did the captain harm you?”
She shook her head.“Nay, he lost consciousness before he could.”
He frowned and released a heavy sigh, staring at the deck below.“He is not himself when deep in his cups.”
She gave a ladylike snort.“’Tis no excuse for what he is doing to me.”
“Nay,” he quickly answered.The man’s intense gaze locked upon her.Broad in shoulder and muscled, she wondered what kind of preacher he’d been, for he looked not the part.
“Omphile will be here soon.”He turned to leave.
“What caused you to choose piracy over preaching, Mr.Pell?”
Halting, his entire body seemed to tighten.“God forsook me.”
“Because your wife and child died?”
He faced her, his expression stern yet oddly empty.“I devoted my life to His work, sacrificed all, but still my wife died of fever and…” He swallowed and his lips flattened.“My son was murdered by the lieutenant governor.”
Gabrielle gasped, both shocked and horrified at both the man’s words and the matter-of-fact way he voiced them.“Why would he do such a thing?”
He looked down, his fist squeezing the door handle until his knuckles whitened.“He wanted no missionaries on the island.He threatened me many times, yet I believed God would protect me.Matthew was eight.”A bell rang.A muffled shout came from above.“I must away, my lady.”
And with that, he left, closing the door.So she was not the only one God abandoned after a life of service.Even a preacher doubted in His goodness.Perhaps her parents had been wrong about this God of theirs all along.
A breeze swept in from the small window, oddly chilling her.She rubbed her arms.
Serving God is useless.A whisper, words in her ears, yet not in her ears.
Rising, Gabrielle moved to the bowl, poured water into it from the pitcher and splashed it over her face.She was glad for no looking glass in the cabin, for she must look a fright.Taking a cloth, she dabbed it in the water and did her best to remove the stain on her gown from last night, but ’twas no use.Instead, she removed the pins from her hair and attempted to brush out the tangles.By the time Omphile arrived with grog and a bowl of oatmeal, Gabrielle felt ill.The throbbing in her belly continued, and she feared something was terribly wrong.
“You must eat, Child.”Omphile held out the bowl and urged her with concern.“For the babe.”
A kick stabbed her belly.“I fear should I feed him any more, he’ll have the strength to break through my womb.”Her chuckle faltered as another pain carved across her belly.She leaned over, moaning.
“Miss?”Omphile laid a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m fine.”She breathed out and sat up as the pain subsided.“Perhaps some fresh air?”
“Only if you eat.”
Reluctantly, Gabrielle took a few bites while Omphile braided her hair behind her.
Hence, no sooner had she stepped on deck to a blast of salty wind and the caress of the warm sun, than Gabrielle felt slightly better.The babe must have fallen asleep for his movements stopped as she made her way with Omphile’s help to the port railing.
She felt the captain’s eyes on her from the quarterdeck, but she would not give him the satisfaction of returning his gaze.Not after the way he’d treated her last night.Had he intended to ravish her?She couldn’t be sure.
Gripping the railing, she drew a deep breath and glanced over the sea, surprised to see dark clouds swallowing up the sun in the distance.Omphile took a stand beside her.“Looks like we’s in for a storm.”
Not that Gabrielle hadn’t sailed through many a tempest in the Caribbean, but with child?A gust of salty wind struck her.The sails flapped above, and the captain’s voice thundered over the deck.
“All hands wear ship!Stand by to raise storm sails!”
Smity repeated the commands while Durwin ordered the topmen to task, and soon pirates flew into the tops to adjust sails.She faced the sea again.Waves that merely rolled when she’d first come above now leapt and dove, spewing white foam from their tops.
