“But I don’t ’ave it, Cap’n. I swears on me mother’s grave.”
Blake approached his quartermaster… slowly… methodically, the thud of his boots sounding out the man’s demise. With his gaze locked upon Finn and his hand itching to pull his cutlass, Blake halted before him. “If I discover you took it, you’ll be pleading to join your mother in that grave.”
Lowering his eyes to the floor, Finn nodded.
A servant rushed through the door, a piece of parchment in hand. “Captain Keene, you told us to search Claude Maston’s chamber more thoroughly.”
Looking up, Blake nodded.
“We found this missive. Don’t know how we missed it before.” He handed the parchment to Blake.
By the time you read this, my dear Capitaine, I will be long gone with both your Ring and your woman. You took me for a docile popinjay, but now you discover I am far more shrewd and courageous than you’ll ever be.
Au revoir, mon Capitaine. See you in hell.
b
With as much grace as she could gather, Emeline swung her legs over the bulwarks and planted her feet once again on the deck of theSummons. Whatever the note had said, it thrust Blake into a rampage so swift and hard that she feared his health would relapse. Yet now, as she watched him mount the quarterdeck ladder, issuing orders to his crew, he seemed more stalwart than ever. Whatever had nearly killed him had been of a spiritual nature, which the name of Jesus had evicted. Yet at the moment, it seemed he’d been taken over by an equally deadly demon, one that filled his eyes with bloodlust and his heart with darkness.
He had stormed through the house, shouting orders to his crew to ready theSummonsand to his staff to maintain and protect the island in his absence. Chaos ensued with servants running hither and thither and supplies being gathered and sent to the ship. Hence, within the hour, Blake escorted Emeline to the cockboat, barely uttering a word.
And once again she found herself a prisoner on board his ship.
No one ordered her below. No one paid her much mind as she wove through the dozens of pirates scurrying across the deck and made her way to the starboard railing overlooking the bay. A humid breeze stirred the tendrils of her hair as rays from a rising sun warmed her and spread golden fingers over turquoise waters. Beyond the white sand of the shore, the turrets and gables of Keene House poked above the verdant web of the jungle, defiant and strong like the arms of the dead rising from a grassy grave. Oddly, sorrow draped over her at leaving this place. Which was ridiculous, of course. Still, so much had happened here. She’d learned a great deal about Blake, his mournful past, what motivated him—much of which had gripped her heart, her very soul, and refused to let go. Which was also ridiculous. Foolish, foolish girl.
“You’re a dreamer, my sweet darling,” her father would say. “Always have your head off in some adventure.”
Squealing turned her just in time to see Bandit swinging from the ratlines and taking one final leap into her arms. Thankfully, she caught him in time as the monkey nestled his cheek against hers.
“Where have you been, you naughty monkey?”
To which he only grinned.
“Hands to stations!” Blake brayed. “Unfurl sails, loose topsails, man the capstan!”
Finn added a few commands of his own, sending men leaping into shrouds and others dashing here and there, gathering lines, and gripping the spokes of the capstan.
Blake stood on the quarterdeck, more authority and determination riding on his face than most admirals facing battle. Wind tossed his dark hair behind him as he and Rummy studied a map spread across the binnacle. He’d donned his usual pirate attire, with tight breeches stuffed in knee high boots, a white shirt open at the collar and covered by a leather jerkin. A myriad ofweapons stuffed in his baldric winked at her in the sunlight.
For one brief moment their eyes met, and a look of understanding passed between them. Interrupted by a shout from the shore.
“Cap’n! A body.”
Emeline spun about. There on the shore stood two pirates, pulling a bloated corpse from the water.
b
With much grunting and groaning, Blake’s men finally hauled the body up the rope ladder and dropped it upon the deck with a disrespectful thud.
Claude Maston.
Several pirates gasped at the sight. Charlie drew a hand to her mouth. Rummy cursed. Finn stared at the body of his friend, a numb look on his face, and Pedro said in a trembling voice, “Poor Maston.”
Poor Maston, indeed. Blake had a good idea what had happened to him, and it only incensed him more.
“We should bury ’im, Cap’n.” Finn drew the pipe from his mouth, not yet willing to look Blake in the eyes.
Though Blake no longer believed he had anything to do with the missing Ring, the fact that he had even considered betraying Blake proved the man’s loyalties did not stretch beyond his own desires. Hence he could no longer trust him. Ever.
