Page 87 of The Summons


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One glance at Emeline standing at the railing revealed the horror on her face. Hang it. He should not have allowed her to witness such a frightening sight.

He glanced back at Maston. “Nay, I do not wish him to remain on my island. We’ll bury him at sea. Holland, Duarte, take the body below and wrap it in sailcloth. The rest of you”—Blake scanned his crew—“back to work! We set sail immediately!”

Grumbling, his crew skittered away as Blake turned to Finn. “Escort Miss Hyde to my cabin, then return here to your duties.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Finn said, staring at the deck. “Where we be headin’, if I may ask?”

“We are pursuingLa Sorcière, and after I retrieve my Ring, I’m going to sink her and her captain to the depths.”

More tired than he’d been in a long while, Blake entered his cabin, unbuckled his baldric, and laid his weapons on his desk with a heavyclank. Heaving a deep sigh, he stared out the stern windows as the sun dragged the last ribbons of orange over the edge of the horizon, pulling a dark quilt upon the sea in their stead.

Emeline. Only then did he remember that he’d sent her to his cabin. He turned. There she was, fast asleep on his bed. He couldn’t help but smile. She looked so peaceful, like a little lamb without a care in the world. However, he knew better. She was no lamb nor a little bird as he so oft called her. She was wise and strong and brave. And good. He longed to protect her from this evil world. Trouble was,hewas the evil in her world at the moment.

Moving to the cupboard, he uncorked a bottle of rum and took a big swig. He’d spent the day searching the seas for any sign of Josephine’s ship. She could not have gotten too far in only a day, but she might as well be at the other end of the world, for he’d not spotted a single sail skimming upon the turbulent blue waters.

A soft murmur brought his gaze around to Emeline, who was just rising to sit on his bed. Looking embarrassed, she rubbed her eyes. “My apologies, Captain.”

“None necessary. You were awake all last night.” Resisting the urge to draw near to her, he wove around his desk and leaned back against it, crossing his boots at his ankles. “On my account.”

She smiled. “As were you.”

He rubbed his chin. She had forfeited a night’s sleep for him and yet, her thoughts were for his exhaustion.

The ship rolled over a wave and Emeline gripped the bedframe, her eyes widening as if she just realized where she’d slept. Jumping up, she attempted to brush the wrinkles from her skirts, red blooming over her cheeks.

Blake grinned.

“Maston,” she whispered, her voice edged in sorrow. “What happened?”

Blake sipped his drink. “Josephine happened.”

Her confused look prompted him to continue. “The note I received? ’Twas from him, informing me he’d taken the Ring and was running away with Josephine.”

Shock flashed in Emeline’s eyes. “Oh, my.” Her brow wrinkled. “So, they were…they were...”

“Lovers, aye. I should have seen it. Maston chases after every skirt he sees, and Josephine needed a little pigeon to do her bidding.” Setting down his glass, he crossed arms over his chest. One would think Blake would be so accustomed to betrayal that it no longer surprised or pained him. This recent betrayal had done both. Further proving his weakness. He silently cursed.

“He must have entered your chamber when you were ill,” Emeline said, “when Sam had stepped out for a moment.”

Nodding, Blake felt fury string tight across his jaw.

Emeline approached, the swish of her skirts accompanying the dash of the sea against the hull. Her gaze drifted over his ear. “Wherever is your black pearl earring?”

Absently, Blake touched his earlobe. “I tossed it overboard. Should have done it years ago.” In truth, he had no idea why he’d kept it.

She studied him curiously. “’Twas a gift from her.”

Shaking his head, he snorted. “How do you know such things?”

“I’m sorry, Blake,” she said, her tone melancholy. “I know you’ve suffered from much treachery.”

“I don’t want your pity,” he said a bit too harshly. “I want my Ring.”

He frowned at the disappointment in her eyes, then chastised himself for caring what this female thought.

TheSummonspitched over a wave, and he reached out to steady her.

She jerked from his touch as if it burned her skin. “Do you think Josephine killed him? Is she capable of such a horrific act?”