Scads! Grabbing a bottle of rum from a table, he drew it to his lips and took a large sip, propriety be hanged. He needed some air, needed to clear the woman from his thoughts. Out on the porch, he found Sam staring into the darkness.
Blake slid beside him. The old surgeon spoke few words, but when he did, they were oft full of wisdom. And oh, how he needed some wisdom at the moment. As fortune would have it, he didn’t have long to wait for the man to regale him.
“Your infatuation with the lady grows.” Sam leaned on the railing, glass of punch in hand, staring at the strip of moonlit sea in the distance.
“Hardly.” Blake cursed.
“Then why keep her?”
Blake shrugged and took another sip of rum. “Let’s just say she keeps my demons at bay.” ’Twas not a lie after all.
“Womenaredemons.” Sam gave a rare chuckle. “Naught but trouble, Captain. I sense this one is more dangerous than she seems.” He drew a deep breath. “I foresee she will disrupt all your plans, should you continue this dalliance.” Then glancing over Blake’s shoulder back into the ballroom, he gestured with his drink. “My point is made.”
Pivoting, Blake found Maston dancing with Emeline, though ’twas not like any dance Blake knew, for the man’s hands were all over the poor woman.
“Hang it!” He charged the couple.
Chapter 18
W
hen Maston approached Emeline and asked for a dance, she flatly refused. The man may have cleaned up nicely and had shown a tad bit of sophistication, but he was naught but a libertine. She would find no hero in this pirate, no rescuer from any of the men on theSummonsnor on this island of fools.
Maston did not take no for an answer. The scent of rum and wine flooded her nose, overpowering his rosemary cologne, as he dragged her onto the floor and began a minuet. Though ’twas no minuet she’d ever danced, for he fumbled through a series of steps before simply clutching her waist and spinning her around.
The audience of pirates chuckled and encouraged Maston with coarse jests.
“Now, that be the way t’ treat a wench, Maston!”
“Grab ’er tighter, mate. Tell us, is a true lady as soft as them wenches ye frequent?”
Emeline struggled to free herself. She pushed from him, but he clutched her all the closer. She tried kicking him, but he twirled her so fast, she found no leverage. Fear, along with anger, buzzed through her. And the oddest thought blared in her mind. Where was Blake? She needed Blake! Of course that was ridiculous. Why would he care that she was being molested?
But hedidcare. At least that’s what she saw on his face as he marched toward them, grabbed Maston’s arm, and wrenched him around.
He didn’t say a word, offered no reprimand, no insult. He merely swung back and struck Maston so hard across the jaw that the man flew backward and landed on the floor.
The pirates hooted and hollered like a pack of wolves.
The orchestra ceased…an odd final note floating in an eerie chime of shame.
The bosun struggled to rise on his elbows, blinked, and shook his head before glaring at his captain, hatred in his gaze.
“Touch her again and die,” was all Blake said before taking her arm and leading her from the room.
Down a long hall and up two flights of stairs, he continued, not saying a word, his breath puffing like a dragon’s. Golden light from perched lanterns flickered over his stiff mouth and tight jaw. A strand of hair had loosened from his tie and dangled over his cheek. She sensed his fury, but she also smelled wine, which meant the man was more than volatile at the moment.
Ergo, she kept her tongue. Wise, since she had no idea whether to thank him or ask him why he was so angry. A terrifying thought sent her blood racing. Perhaps he finally intended to have his way with her. Perhaps Maston’s salacious dance had given Blake the impetus he needed.
He barely stopped to open the door to her chamber as he led her inside, struck flint to steel and lit a lantern. When he finally faced her, the rage in his eyes had abated, replaced by something else…something she could not name, but something which vanquished her fear.
“Lock your door and stay here, Emeline. You’ll be safe.”
Before she could utter a word, he left and closed the door behind him. She stood there, her heart thrashing, her breath raging, listening to his boots thunder down the hall.
It took her what seemed like hours to calm her nerves. No servants arrived to help her disrobe or bring her tea. Hence, with a great deal of struggle, she finally managed to remove her gown and stomacher, along with all its fripperies. After carefully laying them across a chair, she allowed herself one last chance to run her fingers over the soft silk and admire the beauty of such exquisite attire. Oddly, a nightdress and robe had been left for her, which she quickly donned before she knelt beside her bed and prayed.
“Lord Jesus, I don’t know where You are or why this is happening, but I thank You for keeping me safe, even amongst these vile rogues. You have showered Your favor upon me, even in the darkest of places, even in the shadow of death, in which I now find myself. Help me to fear no evil and know You are with me. Help me to find Your purpose in all of this. Bless my father and mother and Esther and Caleb. Keep them safe and help them to find me soon. Amen.”
