Frowning, the busty wench leapt from his lap and sashayed away.
Chuckling, the dealer slapped his next card onto the table, but his eyes were already focused on the pile of coins.Most of them Liam’s.
The sailors erupted with shouts, curses, and laughter.
“Luck’s a fickle mistress,mon ami,” the Frenchman purred, sweeping the winnings into his pile.“Now where are those ten fine pieces of eight you said you were good for?”
Swallowing a burst of dread, Liam slowly rose, stretching his fingers over the hilt of his blade.The men at the table also stood, their rum-hazed eyes daring him to make a move.Skilled as he was, he could not fight them all.More gazes shot his way as a hush of anticipation settled over the raucous crowd.
“I told ye,mon ami, ’tis back on the ship.”He gestured toward the door.“I’ll have the rest on the morrow.A sailor’s word is as good as gold.”He started away, but the hiss of blades being drawn scraped over his ears as the points of at least ten swords leveled at his chest.
The Frenchman stood, a calculating grin on his lips.“A sailor’s word feeds not my purse.Non.You have played beyond your means, and here,”—he waved a hand over the tavern—“such folly is paid in coin or blood.”
“What do ye want?”Liam asked, sensing a deadly trap.
The French toad gestured for the men to lower their blades.“I am a merciful man.”His voice was velvet, edged with steel.He drew Liam aside where no one could hear.
“There is a trinket in your captain’s keeping.A Ring.You have seen it,n’est-ce pas?”He leaned close, reeking of sweat, wine, and cloves.
Liam stiffened.
“Bring it to me, and your debt vanishes.Refuse?I will bury you on this island in an unmarked grave, and the world will forget you were ever born.”
♥
Ayida crouched over a small bowl.Lanternlight flickered over the seawater within it as it swayed with the rocking of the ship.The creak and groan of timbers joined the patter of tiny feet, the ever-present chorus of the hold.
Ayida clenched her fists, nails biting her palms.Eh bon Dieu!She nearly had de Ring in her hand!If dat foolish gal had not opened her mouth, if de capitaine had not called upon its power to break every charm she laid!Oui, it be a mighty relic, strong as de spirits of de deep.One she longed to claim for herself.With it, she could raise de chains off her people, make de white slavers lick de blood from dey own boots.
A slow smile curved her lips.“Maybe dis one last work of darkness,” she said, “dis one last grand curse, go make him beg me for mercy.Den we see who truly hold de power.”
Reaching into a pouch, she sprinkled crushed herbs onto the water, followed by a fish bone and a twist of scarlet thread.Moving her hands over the concoction, she chanted words older than the island itself.
Reaching for a knife, she pricked her finger, allowing a drop of her blood to splash into the water, then stirred it with a chicken feather until it grew black and thick.
“Let their bellies twist,” she murmured.“Let fever take dem one by one, till de ship moans wid their misery.”
A faint wind rustled through the timbers, though no hatch was open.Smiling, Ayida blew out the lantern, and somewhere above, a sailor coughed.
♥
Once again, Caleb found himself entering the Montverre estate.Only this time he knew without a doubt ’twas not a nest of doves, but a den of lions.Ever since Geneviève had exposed her father’s duplicity, Caleb had sought an audience with the French fiend.Hence, imagine his surprise when he received an invitation for afternoon refreshments, written in Montverre’s hand.
Bring as many of your men as you like, and Miss Starr as well.I found her quite charming.2:00 pm?
Alden warned him not to go, that ’twas most likely a trap.And while Caleb agreed that the marquis was up to no good, he also knew the Frenchman’s honor would not allow him to harm them in public.
Liam, more agitated than usual, fidgety and devoid of his typical sarcasm, seemed eager to sample whatever delicacies the marquis might offer.
And Miss Starr?She’d hardly spoken a word to him in over a day.True, he’d been busy managing ship repairs—which thankfully would be completed today—but no matter how often he tried to speak with her, she avoided him.He could not imagine why, other than she thought he might stop her from returning to her time.
As if he had the power or knowledge to do so.Women!
Still, when he’d asked her to accompany them, she’d agreed.Though she’d neither spoken a word in the carriage nor looked his way.
He’d be lying if he said her dismissal didn’t prick his heart.
But he had more important matters at hand as he followed the servant into Montverre’s parlor with the lady on his arm.Liam and Alden followed close behind.
