“Aye, he’s come. And what will he do if he finds you? Hang you? Highness, you’d best pray that we are victorious! Now come!”
Robert set his arm about her, practically lifting her from her feet. Amanda seemed to skim the ground until they reached theLady Jane, ready now to sail. They raced up the gangplank and aboard.
Captain Jannings, one of Lord Dunmore’s men, bowed to her regretfully. “Highness! We are under attack. Fear not, I will see you into Lord Dunmore’s hands, and then you shall be safely whisked away to England!”
Tears stung her eyes. Once she would have begged to hear those words. Now she had no choice. Her dreams had burned away in the fires that had raged on land.
Cameron Hall would remain standing. Yet from the moment the British had come for the arms stored in warehouses along the docks, she herself had been doomed. The truth would not matter now.
A cannon exploded near the ship. A man screamed as a shard of steel cut into his flesh. Battle was engaged, and they weren’t even out into the open water.
The young captain raced to the fore, putting his glass to his eye. “Be damned, but it isCameronriding the ship! Gunners, to your weapons. Sergeant, call the orders to fire!”
Robert grabbed her hand and hurried her toward the aft of the ship where the captain’s large cabin commanded a fine view of the sea. He threw open the door and shoved her inside.
Then he followed her, closing the door behind him. His eyes were bright with the excitement of battle, with the pleasure of winning. “He will die, Amanda. I swear it.”
She felt as if she would faint. Cannon boomed again, and even as they stood there, the room seemed to fill with the black soot of powder and fire. “You’ll never kill him!” she vowed.
“I’ll kill him, I swear it.” Two steps brought Robert to her. She struggled as he swept her into his arms. “I’ll kill him, and I’ll have you naked beneath me while the blood still runs warm from his body.”
She lashed out at him, and he started to laugh. “Pray to the saints that it is so, lady, for he knows of this treachery, andhewill killyou!”
She shoved her knee into his groin with all of her strength. He staggered back. Amanda gripped the wall, ready to do battle again. But the door was thrown open and a uniformed Highlander stepped in. “Lord Tarryton! You are needed, your Grace. Milady! I am here to die for your protection! Lieutenant Padraic McDougal at your service.”
Robert gritted his teeth against the pain and cast her a glance that promised sure revenge. Then he straightened, ever the military man, and exited the cabin. The Highlander nodded to her, closing the door and standing guard beyond it. Amanda clamped her hands over her ears as the cannon boomed again.
They would all die.
She raced to the velvet-draped windows and looked out to the water. A ship called theGood Earthwas almost upon them, coming about with grappling irons. Men were leaping from the rigging to come aboard theLady Jane.
Eric’s ship.
His ship, which the British had taken…
And now she was on board. He would never believe her innocent!
With a cry of anguish she rose, determined to have none of it. They could not have traveled too far from shore yet. She needed to reach the deck and be quit of them all. Robert would betray her. He would never take her to Lord Dunmore, never see her safely to England.
And Eric would…
Kill her.
She hurried to the cabin door. Beyond it she could hear the sound of clashing steel. Still she threw the door wide open, but then she halted in horror at all that she saw.
Battle had come hand to hand, and to the death. Even as she stood there, the captain fell dead, skewered by a blade in the hands of a mountain man. Amanda stepped aside as two boys, fighting with ropes and fists, crashed down before her. She nearly slipped in a pool of blood that oozed from the throat of a bearded redcoat. She looked forward, and her heart caught in her throat.
Eric was there.
On the bow of theLady Jane, his rapier drawn, he and Robert were cast heavily into the fray. Both men knew their swordplay, yet no man was so subtle, so swift, as Eric Cameron. He moved forward suddenly, pushing Robert back, his black crackling silver beneath the sun despite the mist and smoke that hung over the deck. He was talented and dramatic, provoking Robert to angry lashes, taunting him then as he flecked his sword against his opponent’s chin. His left hand remained behind his back as he moved again with speed and grace, demanding that Lord Tarryton cast down his sword.
“God’s blood, someone take this man!” Robert screamed.
Five of Dunmore’s finest navy men turned at Tarryton’s call for help, daring opponents as they sprang forward.
She heard Eric’s reckless laughter. He lived on the edge now, and enjoyed it. He cared nothing for danger for they had attacked his very home. They had attacked her! Amanda thought.
But he would not see it that way.
