The Hawk’s eyes were upon her again. Skye felt them boring into her. She shivered with a dreadful cold. She looked to the shouting rogues upon the dock, and to the man beside her, and then to the water. The dark depths seemed absurdly inviting that evening.
His hand clamped hard upon hers and she started, meeting his fiery gaze. “No, milady, I think not! I did not haul you from that menacing crowd to lose you to the sea!”
She sat still and tried not to shiver. His eyes remained upon her. “What happened?” he demanded curtly. “What has come of Jacques DuBray and the men left with you.”
She started to shake her head, unable to speak. His fingers dug into her damp hair, wrenching her head back. “What happened?”
“Jacques—the Frenchman is dead.”
He swore violently, staring at her with a greater hatred. “A good man, and dead, on your behalf, milady! You still have not told me what happened!”
His hold upon her was fierce. His men, setting their oars upon the sea, also stared at her. In the darkness she could feel their eyes condemning her as the longboat skimmed the water, bringing them ever closer to his ship.
“Tell me!”
“Logan came! He came from the shore and snuck up on the ship. The man in the crow’s nest saw him, but Logan shot him before he could cry out an alarm. Then he came topside and shot the Frenchman.”
The Hawk swore violently. His hand fell from her hair and he looked toward his ship.
None of the men on the docks seemed to be coming in pursuit, Skye saw. She shivered, feeling very, very cold. The sea breeze seemed to glue her wet clothing to her and the little discomforts made her ever more wretched as she wondered about her fate.
The figurehead of his ship loomed into view. Skye had never noted it before. It was the proud figure of a woman, one of the Greek goddesses, she imagined. The breasts were bared, and a crown rode the head. Soft carved curls fell over the woman’s shoulders and her face was strong and beautiful.
It was a fine and artistic piece of work, Skye thought. Of course. The ship had surely been seized.
Her teeth were chattering. Her mind was wandering to all sorts of avenues, because she was afraid.
The longboat came shipside. The ladder awaited them, hanging there in the darkness of the night.
“I shall go first,” the Hawk told his men. He rose, clutching the rope, shimmying quickly upon it. He paused, pulling a knife from inside his boot, looking to Robert. “Mr. Arrowsmith, see to Lady Kinsdale.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Skye sat in silence while the Hawk disappeared over the portside hull of his ship. She heard the water lapping against the longboat and felt the eyes of his men upon her. She had endangered them all.
I am your prisoner! she wanted to shout out to them. Had you let me be, I’d have offered you no harm!
But she didn’t open her mouth. She waited in silence, and then she realized that they were all waiting with anxiety, and she, as well as the men, was worrying about the Hawk.
Worrying about a man who would probably flay every inch of her flesh from her bones…
“All clear!” he called suddenly from far above them. She nearly screamed, she was so startled. He held a lantern far above his head, and in the night he watched her, his eyes nearly fathomless within the curious shadows of his face.
“Come along, Lady Kinsdale,” Robert told her gruffly. Numb and frightened, she obeyed, reaching for the ladder. She faltered nearing the top of the rope. The Hawk reached down to her, dragging her over the hull of the ship. She nearly fell. He held her up and pulled her against him.
The men climbed aboard the ship. The Hawk shoved her toward Robert. “See that she is locked in,” he said briefly. Robert took her arm and started toward the captain’s cabin.
She turned back, opening her mouth to speak. She didn’t know what she meant to say and words caught in her throat. He was watching her. Watching her by moonlight, his hands upon his hips, his face now in the shadows.
Then he turned away from her.
Robert swung open the doors and thrust her into the darkened cabin. He didn’t pause. He slammed the doors and bolted them without a thought.
The darkness closed around her.
Skye wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes tightly and sank to the floor. She tried to fight it. With all of her heart she tried to fight the fear that was overwhelming her. She felt as if the walls moved, as if they came around her, as if they would close upon her.
They wanted to hurt her, she reminded herself. Hawk and all his men were bitter against her for the havoc and death they believed she’d caused. She needed to be still, to be silent, to pray that they would forget her here within the cabin.…
