Feeling more at peace than she had in a while, she crawled under the coverlet and tried to fall asleep. She must have drifted off, for she woke suddenly, her heart racing. She glanced around the dark room but saw no movement. Had she heard something? There it was again. A howl, an agonizing howl, like a wounded animal.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, she stared into the darkness, eyes wide open, waiting…listening.
Noises filtered through the wall. A groan sounded. Then footsteps. The door she had assumed led to a dressing closet flung open.
Emeline shot up in bed, terror gripping her. A shadow came through the door. She heard it breathing…hard. “Who is it? What do you want?”
“’Tis me, Emeline.” The captain’s pained voice responded.
“What is it? Why are you here?” Though she could guess…yet…nay. He’d had many other opportunities.
“Come with me.” The deep tenor of his voice echoed through the room like a doleful ballad, prompting her to swing her feet over the edge of the mattress and hop to the floor. He disappeared into the next room, and without hesitation, she flung her robe over her shoulders and followed. Perhaps because she sensed no danger. Perhaps because the desperation in his voice tugged on her heart. Perhaps because she was the biggest, most gullible fool in the Caribbean. Either way, she entered a bedchamber similar to hers but much larger and more elaborate. The light from a single lantern flickered over the muscles on Blake’s bare back as he moved to drop into one of the stuffed chairs by his bed.
Halting just inside the doorway, Emeline hugged herself, the pounding of her heart ringing in her ears.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, sending the cross and emblem around his neck dangling before him. “Play for me.”
At first Emeline had no idea what the crazed pirate meant, but he gestured to another chair at the foot of the bed where a violin perched, leaning against the back.
“Now? In the middle of the night?” She retreated a step. “Can it not wait until morning?”
“Nay.” Then several seconds later. “Please.” An appeal from the heart. Not a command.
Well, how can I turn down a ‘please’ from my captor?She wanted to retort sarcastically but decided against it. Something was wrong, evil even. She felt it in the chamber just like she’d sensed it in the captain’s cabin when he’d summoned her at night.
Thus, she picked up the violin, relishing the feel of the instrument in her hands. Memories flooded her, happy memories of her and her mother performing a duet for the crew of theRansom, her father’s ship. Had that only been a month ago?
She slid onto the chair and placed the bottom of the violin on her shoulder and her chin in the rest. Then, positioning the bow, she started with a simple but soothing tune she’d learned recently.
b
Blake hated his weakness, his need for anyone. He’d hoped the demonic nightmares would cease once he was on land, but they only got worse. No sooner had he drunk himself into a rum-induced stupor and laid his head on his pillow, desperate for sleep, than the dark shadows returned. Larger, stronger, greater in number, their incessant mocking and threatening voices blending into a hellish chant that scraped over his soul. Blaring through it all came his father’s fiendish howl.
The howl of both shock and pain that would forever haunt Blake.
It faded the moment Emeline entered the chamber. Even the shadows retreated. Now, as the sweet notes from the violin spiraled through the air, all darkness fled. Peace settled on Blake. His head ceased throbbing, his heart calmed. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the chair.
Emeline played the instrument as well as any musician he’d heard. Such soothing tones, such exquisite notes, all expertly woven into a tapestry of wonder by the angel sitting in the red velvet chair. She looked every bit an angel in her white robe with her hair tumbling over her shoulders in a waterfall of chestnut waves. Her eyes were closed as she eased the bow over the strings in a seductive dance that mesmerized Blake.
And he hated himself for it.
Hated his growing attraction to the lady, his growing admiration, and worse, hisneedfor her.
When he’d decided long ago never to need anyone ever again. Need led to want and want led to dependence and dependence led to naught but disappointment and heartache.
Still, he must keep her for now. Until he could figure out how to use the Ring to send the demons that haunted him back to hell where they belonged.
The music stopped. He opened his eyes to find the lady approaching slowly, hesitantly. He leaned forward on his knees, gripping the amulet hanging about his neck. “Please continue, Emeline.”
She knelt before him, her night dress circling around her like a cloud of purity. “Something horrible happened to you. What was it?”
Snorting, he raked back his hair. “I couldn’t sleep is all.”
“Nay, ’tis something deeper.”
Could the blasted woman see into his soul? Perhaps she was trained in the dark arts…a witch? He studied her, but the light reflecting in those glimmering golden eyes revealed only sincerity and…care?
“You cannot deny you have nightmares, see shadows. I’ve heard you speak of them in your sleep.”
