“And I’m goin’ to be a pirate captain just like Captain Keene one day.” He continued his cleaning.
“I know it sounds adventurous to be a pirate, Pedro, but most of them shorten their lives at the end of a rope.”
He chuckled. “Not the good ones.” But a frown soon stole his joy. “Not the smart ones like the captain. An’ he’s teaching me everythin’ he knows.”
She wanted to say,that shouldn’t take longbut thought better of it.
“I only hope I can learn.” He picked up a pair of breeches that remained stiff in his hands. Cringing, he did his best to shove them in the sack. “And be as brave as he is. But I don’t know.”
The ship canted to larboard as a blast of salty wind swept through the small porthole.
“Don’t know?” Emeline asked, sensing the boy’s sudden sorrow.
He shrugged and glanced her way. “They say I’m not too smart, don’t have any particular talents.”
Oddly, she found she could relate, especially when she compared herself to her family. “I doubt that is true.”
A glimmer of hope sparked in his eyes. Then it was gone. What had happened to this lad to make him believe he was worthless?
The boy soon left but returned with a basin, a pitcher of water, and a clean coverlet, if you could call it that. Despite her efforts to keep him talking, he begged off with an excuse of many duties to attend.
She didn’t like being alone. Even at her family’s estate in Kingston or on her father’s ship,Ransom, she preferred to be around others, particularly those she loved. In both places, she shared a room with her sister, and they oft stayed up half the night talking and dreaming. Esther dreamt of opening an apothecary where she could use her herbal knowledge and healing power to help the sick, while Emeline longed only for a romance similar to her mother and father’s and a wonderful, godly hero who would steal her heart. Then together they’d sail away to great adventures as they raised a crew of wee ones.
Now that she thought about it, her dreams seemed rather selfish compared to her sister’s.
Another strike against her.
A rat scampered across the deck, sniffing at the places where plates had been. She thought to scare it away but for what purpose? More would take its place. Just like the rats aboard this ship.
The brig rolled over another wave, sending the lantern swinging above and spinning a web of light and dark over the tiny cabin. A chill prickled her skin, and she hugged herself. It was in the loneliness that the accusations arose, the taunts, the reproofs that always contained a sprinkling of truth. During those moments she’d always sought out her family, confessing her fears, and feeding off their words of faith and hope until all the voices of censure dissipated. But she could not do that now.
“Oh, Lord, where are you?” She’d get on her knees if it weren’t for the rats. As it was, she bowed her head and clung to herself, longing for a hug from her father, who always made her feel safe.
Of late, she’d been asking the Lord for a romantic adventure. Was this His answer? Could Captain Keene be the man she’d dreamed of? Nay! The man was a pig, a libertine, a greedy, power-hungry pirate with the manners of a goat. That he had not ravished her yet was to his credit—the single decency she could point to. But what now?
“Lord, forgive me.” Tears burned in her eyes. “I’ve been selfish. Asking only for things to please myself, to make my life happy.” Sniffing, she wiped her face.
No wonder God had not given her any talents. No doubt she would only have used them for her own joy. “Forgive me, Lord.”
A sigh deflated her. He had answered her prayer for an adventure, but not the one she sought, for Captain Blake was no godly hero.
And that meant she was in a tremendous amount of danger.
Chapter 6
B
lake was sure his eyes were open, yet he saw naught but black. Not a normal darkness. Nay, this darkness was alive, pumping and pulsing like the beat of a massive black heart. He could hear it breathing, feel the fiery-hot puff of its breath on his face, shiver from its intense hatred. Heart racing, he peered into the black void, hoping to see a spark, a speck of light. Anything but the thick blackness threatening to choke him.
There. In the distance, a red glare. He stared at it, afraid to move. It grew larger, brighter…. orange, yellow, and red flames reaching upward. A fire? The darkness around him stretched, moving toward his left and right, spanning the scene like a toxic curtain. Until something sharp cleaved it asunder, and it separated into black figures, some tall, some short, some round, some thin—all swaying as if they were on a ship at sea.Or under a spell. He could not make out their faces, but he knew they hated him.
Knew their contempt could not be quenched by anything but his eternal damnation.
Pushing the phantoms aside, a man emerged from the heinous specters. Dressed in a fine suit of violet taffetawith a silk cravat bubbling about his neck, he halted before Blake with a vile grin and a supercilious stare that resurrected memories Blake had long since buried.
“Father?”
The man snorted. “Who else, little mongrel?” He circled Blake, fingering the manicured beard on his chin, assessing him, scrutinizing him like he used to do. Right before he would pummel Blake over and over with his fists.
