An hour later, he emerged onto the quarterdeck and approached the railing. Beneath him on the main deck, his crew awaited his command. Some stood, a few sat on barrels, others leaned on the bulwarks. All cursed, chortled, and squawked like a flock of preened hens—hens he knew would stab him in the back if he didn’t keep their pockets lined. Above them, white sails glutted with wind pulled the ship over the mighty swells of the Caribbean. Off the starboard rail, the sun touched the sea, flinging ribbons of maroon and tangerine over the horizon. A warm breeze whipped his hair behind him as he leveled his boots on the deck and crossed arms over his chest.
Chattering brought his gaze up to Bandit, hanging from the ratlines, grinning at Blake in victory. Devilish hound! The monkey was the only one who knew where Blake put the Ring when he wasn’t wearing it. It must still be on the ship, for the monkey never went ashore before they’d left St. Kitts at midday.
“I have lost a Ring!” Blake’s shout rose above the wind and waves, snapping all gazes in his direction. “It is of no value to anyone save myself.” He went on to describe the Ring and ordered the crew to search the ship from stem to stern. “Whoever finds it will receive a bag of gold equal to twenty pound and a case of rum.” He hoped such a huge reward would keep the pirates from merely pocketing the Ring should they find it, for they would surely determine the trinket to be of lesser value.
At first the men looked shocked that he offered such a large sum, but then “huzzahs” rang through the air and the crew scattered like rats to cheese. All except his surgeon, Sam, who seemed disinterested as he dropped down the hatch back to his quarters.
Blake smiled and pointed a finger of warning at Bandit, but the monkey only climbed higher. ’Twas best, for in Blake’s current temperament, he’d dismember the varmint and hang his parts from the masthead.
Yet by the time the majestic sun dared peek above the dark sea after a tortured night, no Ring had been found.
Finn plucked his pipe from his lips and shrugged. “Sorry, Cap’n. I ne’er seen pirates work so hard in all me life. Most o’ ’hem stayed up all night, tearin’ the ship apart.”
As if to offer proof of Finn’s statement, Rummy dragged himself into Blake’s cabin, his remaining arm swaying by his side as if it could no longer move. Even young Pedro had shadows beneath his eyes, though he still smiled at Blake as he entered.
Charlie sauntered in, leaned back against the bulkhead, and fisted hands at her waist. “A cruel joke, Captain? There is no Ring, eh?”
“No joke, I assure you.” Grabbing a bottle of rum, Blake took a swig and handed it to Rummy, who had sunk into a chair, his head dropped in one hand.
“The Ring is not on board,Capitaine.” Maston entered, swiping off his feathered tricorn. “If it was, it would have been found by now,non?”
“Perhaps someone tossed it overboard.” Charlie offered the one explanation Blake did not wish to hear. He ground his teeth.Think…think. He pictured the Ring, remembering how it lit up in the lady’s hands and not his.
Wait.Bandit gave it to Miss Hyde once.
Would he have done so again?
“Finn, turn the ship around. Rummy, have your drink, then back to the helm. Hard about. We head back to St. Kitts.”
Chapter 10
“I
have some business to attend. I shan’t be long, Mademoiselle Lavigne.” Emeline halted at the parlor entrance, hesitating in case the woman wasentertaining. Thank the good Lord she was alone at the moment. Not that Emeline hadn’t heard noises she’d rather not have heard during the long night, but no doubt the lady’sguestshad left by now.
Red hair the color of burgundy wine fell from Mademoiselle Lavigne’s pins in a bounty of curls, a few of which draped over her shoulders onto a silk nightdress embroidered with flowers. A large dog curled up at her feet.
“Thank you,mademoiselle, for the meal and hot bath last night.” Emeline had been pleasantly surprised by both—the meal, a delicious potato bisque, boiled oysters, fresh bread, and cheese, and the bath something she’d desperately needed.
Mademoiselle Lavigne set down her cup of steaming tea and smiled at Emeline. “Call me Delphine,s'il vous plait. You are most welcome, my dear.” Her eyes twinkled in delight. “I see Miss Catherine’s gown fits you nicely.”
Emeline gripped the shawl covering her nearly bare bosoms more tightly about her neck. The gown was lovely, a peach taffeta, hemmed in lace, but the neckline was far too low and the bodice far too tight for any proper lady to wear. Yet she had no choice, for Miss Catherine was washing her only other gown.
Mademoiselle laughed. “I do see why Blake likes you. He’s unaccustomed to such modesty in a woman.”
“As I have tried to tell you, I am not his…his…” she could hardly say the word without blushing. “If you must know, he kidnapped me from my family, and I’m quite sure he abhors me.”
“Oh, I doubt that, my dear. No pirate would pay so handsomely for the care of a woman heabhors, as you say.”
Paid handsomely?
She shook her head.“I can hardly credit it. Perhaps he feels guilty for the monstrous way in which he treated me.”
“Ha! Guilt? From a pirate?Non, my innocent mademoiselle.” Sorrow suddenly clouded the woman’s face, and Emeline knew deep inside that the captain had hurt her somehow.
“Are you his mistress,Mademoi…Delphine?”
Again the lady laughed, only this time a shard of pain sharpened it. “Such boldness from a lady!” Rising, she spread a hand over her nightdress and sighed. “Non. Though I would have it so, should he ask.” She moved to the unlit fireplace. The dog lifted his head. “Blake is a battered soul, unable to love, I fear. I believe due to a woman from his past, perhaps more than one.”
