“Aye, lady. Those known for their deeds will face trial and hang. There will be a few of the notorious among them. Those not known by face or name will be set free.”
“The Silver Hawk would be known,” she whispered.
“Aye, lady, the Silver Hawk would be known.” He offered her a wry grin, and she trembled inside. Freedom had loomed before him while death had lain behind him and he had still come back. He had come back for her.
“Will we make it?” she said.
He lifted his oar. “The ship lies just ahead.”
“You thrive on danger!” she accused him.
“Ah, but I do appreciate my neck, my love!” he assured her.
They fell silent again. Skye looked back. Horses raced along the shoreline. Boats were slipping into the river, men fought fiercely on land. Shots rang out; steel clanged.
The light began to fade in the distance, and the noise, too.
They knew the river here well, these pirates, Skye thought. They navigated in the near darkness. Silence and darkness enveloped them. Skye began to shiver.
The Hawk ceased to row. His hand stretched out to hers, his fingers entwined over them. “It is all right,” he assured her softly. His warmth swept into her. She nodded and swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her heart was wretched.
“It will not be so long,” he promised her.
It was long. She knew that his ship could not have been so close, that he must have hidden her carefully in some inlet. Still it seemed that they traveled long and hard before they at last saw a beacon in the night.
“The ship,” Robert murmured.
“Aye, she awaits us,” the Hawk said. “Is Mr. Fulton at the helm, ready to set out?”
“Aye, Captain. That he is.”
The longboat moved up by the ship. The ladder was cast over the portside, and the Hawk helped Skye to her feet. Shivering, she clung to the rope rigging and climbed.
He was quickly topside with her, then Robert, then Jacko.
“Take Lady Cameron to quarters,” the Hawk said.
“Wait!” Skye cried. Did he think to take her into his cabin again? She had to make him understand that he could not.
“I cannot wait!” he cried impatiently. “I’m captain here, madame, and I sail at your request, hounded my the militia on your behalf. Robert, take her!”
He turned away, heading toward the helm. Robert seized hold of her arm, and she knew that no matter how the man cared for her, he would obey the Hawk.
“Milady, come, please.”
He tugged upon her arm, gently, then more insistently. “Now, milady.”
“Damn. Damn him!” she cried out, hoping that her fury would reach the Hawk. But he had already dismissed her. He stood atop the platform and shouted out his orders. The anchor was drawn; men were rushing to the rigging to hoist sails.
Robert led her along to the Hawk’s own cabin. She bit her lip. He opened the door and thrust her inside.
The fire burned in the stove. Lamps were lit. Warmth and light surrounded her.
The cabin had not changed. Not a bit, since she had been within it last.
“I cannot stay here!” she cried to Robert.
But he ignored her and pulled the door closed behind her. She heard him slide the bolt outside, and she knew that there was no fighting the circumstances.
