“Gunners, we’ll take it again. They weren’t prepared for us—they were barely into the river. One more strike and we come along broadside. We’ll grapple her and board!”
Powder filled the air, and already visibility grew bad. He shouted his order to fire once again. TheGood Earthvibrated and trembled, and the balls shuddered into the water, and into the wood and canvas and decking of theLady Jane.
The water between them seemed to froth in shades of gray. They came closer and closer, the wheel ably handled by a West County captain. There was a massive shuddering as the ships came together.
Eric raised his sword, let out a battle cry, and leapt from the one deck to the other. Swinging from the rigging, leaping from the railing, his men followed suit.
They met the British at close combat, hand-to-hand fighting, swords and dirks drawn, their long rifles used perhaps once or twice. Fury guided Eric. It was his ship. By God, he would reclaim her!
He had just dispatched a young, talented Highlander when he saw Robert Tarryton across the ship, by the bow. Dodging and avoiding the others, he grinned with reckless abandon at this new opponent, his mortal enemy.
“Cameron, you bastard!” Tarryton charged him, parrying his first thrusts easily enough.
Their swords met high and clashed, and came low and clashed, and they were cast tightly together.
“She’s with me, you bastard!” Tarryton whispered heatedly. “You thought to make a fool of me and take her from me time and again, but she’s with me. I’ve got your ship, and I’ve got your wife, and I intend to make good use of both!”
Anger caused a shudder to wrack the whole of his body. Robert Tarryton made a lunge that nearly skewered him. Fool! Eric charged himself in silence, aware that the man meant to unnerve him in any way that he could. With cunning, sweeping strokes of his sword, he began to move forward, quickly. Tarryton parried his thrusts, but Eric saw the fear that slipped into his features. He was the better swordsman, and he knew it.
And he was going to kill Tarryton.
“You’ve nothing, Tarryton, nothing at all,” he replied, and proved it with a quick slash that caught the man in the chin, humiliating, damning.
Tarryton backed quickly away and Eric discovered that he could follow at his leisure. Tarryton was now the one unnerved. He touched his chin and felt the blood.
Eric grabbed hold of the rigging and leapt upon the foreward rail for a new assault. And it was then that he saw Amanda.
She had come from the captain’s cabin, and she stood among a sea of men, exquisite in green, her hair caught by the sun, a burning cascade that rippled and fell down the length of her back. She seemed both alien and natural to the deck and the turmoil that abounded upon it, tall, proud, and beautiful, her head lifted to the wind, her eyes seeking those around her. His wife. The traitor.
She was there, undeniably, she was there. She has cast her fate with Tarryton at long last. He was probably taking her on to London, now that her usefulness at Cameron Hall had come to an end.
Never, my love, he vowed silently. Unless I am dead and buried in this sea, you will never be with Tarryton, I will see to that!
But just at that moment, Tarryton made another lunge toward him. Eric parried the blow swiftly and retaliated with fury and vengeance. His temper was under control now, cold and lethal. Tarryton seemed to realize that.
“Lay down your sword, Tarryton!” he demanded.
“God’s blood! Someone take this man!” Tarryton cried.
It was more than he should have expected, Eric thought dryly, for Lord Robert Tarryton, His Grace the Duke of Owenfield, to fight his own battle. At his call, five navy men sprang forward, their rapiers raised.
“I will kill you one day, Tarryton,” Eric vowed pleasantly.
But Tarryton had already turned away, and Eric couldn’t give him much attention, for his opponents were able. Frederick sprang forward, taking on one of the men. Eric dispatched one eager lad with a lightning thrust to the abdomen. The next he caught in the chest, and the last two disappeared into the fray.
He heard a loud splash, and he realized that Tarryton was lost to him now. TheLady Janewas coming under the control of the patriots, and Tarryton was not going to stay to assist his failing men.
“Highness!”
The cry was going up, Eric realized. The ship was being won, and the men were becoming aware of Amanda—and that she must be the notorious “Highness” who had betrayed Virginia again and again.
He had to reach her himself first. Frederick knew her identity, as did other friends. But not the others. And he meant for no other man to take her or touch her. She was his.
There was a sword in her hand! he realized with both fear and fury. Damned fool, would she fight them even unto death? Was she so reckless and so determined that she would kill men that she would risk her own life?
“By God, love, I will throttle you!” he vowed to himself.
She thrust her sword forward in warning, and turned to run. Eric gave chase, shouting to his men to secure the deck.
