He clasped the Ring and made his request, a whisper that was soon swallowed by the wind. Pivoting, he found Maston. “Ready about! Ease down. Let go the foresheet!”
“ButCapitaine.” The Frenchman stared at him quizzically. “The wind?”
“’Twill be in our favor soon. Do as I say.” He knew it. For some reason, he knew the Ring would grant his request.
Shaking his head, Maston uttered a curse but continued shouting orders. “Helms alee, rise tacks and sheets!”
Turning, Blake glanced over the turquoise sea. TheSummons’ sails flapped and then dropped like old garments for but a moment, apainfulmoment, before they sprang to life again, bloated with wind. The brig jerked to starboard. Blake grabbed the railing as white foam crept up the hull, clawing for his boots.
But his eyes remained on the merchant schooner. Sails that had been round and full just minutes ago now hung limp. Men scrambled across her deck, springing into the shrouds, as the ship headed straight for the cay.
b
Unusual sounds and a stench Emeline could not deny lassoed her unconscious mind, dragging it from a blissful slumber she’d only fallen into moments before. Nay! She clung to that peaceful state wherein troubles dissipated and sweet dreams brought hope.I don’t want to go back. Leave me here!But the sounds transformed into vulgar slurs, the thunder of sails, and the crank of guns being run out. And she knew yesterday had not been a nightmare. And she was not safely on board her father’s ship.
Her cabin jerked to starboard. She flew over the mattress and struck the bulkhead, the pain jarring her into a reality she could no longer deny.
The brig righted itself. With great effort, she rose and leapt from the shifting cot, getting her balance on the heaving deck. The vaulting beneath her feet, along with the loud crash of water against the hull, told her theSummonswas racing across the sea. To what purpose? It could only be one of two reasons. Either they were being pursued or they were in pursuit.
Stumbling to the sideboard where Pedro had left a pitcher of water, Emeline poured some into a basin and splashed it over her face. A wonderful thought dared intrude upon her despair. Perhaps her father was after them, intent on her rescue!
Oh, Lord, let it be so.
Taking no care for the state of her gown or her disheveled hair, she flung open the door, made her way down the hall and up the ladder to the main deck, where instantly a dozen prurient gazes latched upon her. Ignoring them, she cast a furtive glance at the captain standing at the helm before moving to the bulwarks and focusing her eyes upon a schooner in the distance. The poor ship was in dire trouble, for she had run aground in the shallows of an islet. Sailors dashed across her deck, some attending limp sails, others casting trunks and barrels overboard in an attempt to free themselves from their rocky prison. But to no avail.
Captain Keene blared orders for main and fore sails to be lowered and for the one-armed helmsman to bring theSummonsto a halt off the schooner’s stern outside the aim of her guns. Regardless, Master Gunner Charlie kept her gun crew at the ready on thebow chasers and the nine-pounders mounted on the starboard railing should the merchant ship be able to maneuver. The gun crew were quick to follow her orders, never once grumbling at having to take commands from a woman. Charlie looked up and gave Emeline a tiny smile before she spun back to her duties. Perhaps Emeline had found a friend on board after all.
“Musketeers to the tops!” the captain ordered, and a dozen pirates scrambled above, muskets in their hands.
“Stop ’em from tossing our booty into the bay, Cap’n!” Finn shouted at Captain Keene. Other pirates glanced at the merchants still hauling cargo to the deck and grumbled curses of complaint.
The captain ignored them. “Fire when ready, Charlie!” he commanded, and in moments one of the bow chasers boomed, shaking the ship from stem to stern. The railing quivered beneath Emeline’s hands even as the deafening roar thundered in her ears. ’Twas nothing she was not accustomed to on board her father’s ship, but the power of these guns never failed to unnerve her.
The warning shot flew over the schooner and landed off her larboard side as intended.
Captain Keene held a speaking trumpet to his mouth. “Good quarter will be granted if you lay down your arms and open your hatches!”
“You should move to safety,Mademoiselle.” Claude Maston’s tug on her arm startled her as he grinned at her like a snake would a timid mouse. “We cannot predict whether they will put up a fight.”
Tugging from his grip, Emeline glanced up at the topmen preparing to fire and then over at the schooner, where sailors were armed with muskets and blades. Would she be forced to watch a bloody battle? Thus far, her parents had kept her from witnessing such a gruesome scene.Lord, let none die this day,she prayed silently, then moved to stand beneath the quarterdeck. Why the libertine cared whether she was blown to bits she could not fathom. Surely the captain took not a care either, for he’d not once glanced her way since she’d come on deck.
Thankfully, the merchantmen did as Captain Keene demanded. Begrudgingly, they tossed down their weapons and withdrew from the guns lining their bulwarks. Cheers and chortles rose from the pirates as preparations were made to ease theSummonsclose enough to the schooner without running aground and then to lower the boat to haul all their ill-gotten treasure on board.
Emeline had seen enough. Not only had she no desire to watch the theft—and perhaps murder—of innocent merchants, but the pirates, having disarmed their enemies, now seemed as interested in her as they were in acquiring their plunder. Therefore, since the threat of a cannon blast below decks no longer existed, she started for her cabin, the rats infesting it preferable to the ones on deck. She could only hope that after Captain Keene satisfied his lust for treasure, he would remember her and put her ashore at the nearest port.
“May I escort you below,Mademoiselle?” Sweeping off his tricorn, Maston appeared beside her yet again. Black curly hair waved about his face in the wind, while sweat and the distinct scent of some kind of spirits circled him.
“Nay, I’m sure you have duties to attend.” She offered a tight smile.
He glanced over the deck. “Not at the moment. It would be my pleasure.”
Emeline’s nerves tightened. She must not allow herself to be alone with this libertine. But what to do? She had no champion aboard the ship. No one would come to her rescue. With the pirates busy boarding their latest victim, who would even notice?
“I must refuse you, Sir.” She stood her ground, daring to lock eyes with him.His were a brown so dark, they could barely be distinguished from black. A lusty gleam lit them, and yet something lurked beyond it, a loss, an emptiness. Lashes any woman would envy framed their perfect shape, and along with his aquiline nose and strong jaw—if he were bathed and dressed in clean finery—he would pass for a nobleman.
A dark-skinned woman, lovely in form and face, flitted across Emeline’s vision. The scene switched to a white columned estate with an extended portico upon which an elderly nobleman stood, smoking a cheroot.
“Is this bilge-licking jackal bothering you, Miss?” A woman’s voice swept away the visions as Charlie marched up to them, her pointed gaze directed at Maston.
