Page 18 of A Pirate’s Pleasure (Cameron Family #2)

XV

T he Silver Hawk cast open the door to the hallway. “Robert! Robert Arrowsmith.” he called.

Robert could not have been far away, for he came instantly to the door. “Aye, Captain?”

“Give the order to our own men below that we must get to the longboats and onto the ship. We sail out tonight.”

“Aye, sir!”

“And when the warning is given, come back to me. You may escort Lady Cameron back to wherever it is that you found her. Deliver her to the lieutenant governor with my compliments and suggest that he might wish to keep her somewhere out of harm’s way.”

“As you wish, sir,” Robert agreed.

“What!” Skye cried out.

“Go,” the Hawk told Robert. Robert saluted, and left them. The Hawk turned back to look at Skye. “You’re not coming, milady. You know that you cannot possibly come. You must go back to your husband and your home.”

“My father—”

“I will find your father. I will give you my word.”

“But—”

“I will not put your life at risk again. Were your father not so impulsive as to seek you when others were better at the task, we would not be here now. There is danger aboard a pirate ship. You should know that well.”

“Not when one is under the captain’s protection!”

“But you know very well that one captain can be killed and another man take his place. You know full well that the sea can rage, and cannons fire. I will not take you with me.”

“But…but what about your reward, Captain Hawk, your payment?”

He shrugged. “I have given you my promise that I will find your father and restore him to you. I will take your word that you will give payment, when payment is due. Your promise will be sufficient.”

“My promise—”

He came back to her, a curious smile curving his lips. She didn’t think to walk away; she was touched by the silver fire in his eyes and the wistful curl of his mouth beneath the mustache and beard. “You made a promise to me once before,” he said softly. “Do you remember?”

She started to shake her head, suddenly frantic to be free from him. Sweet warmth filled her.

She might have stayed with him. Once, if it had not been for her love for Theo, she might well have cast caution and society and propriety to the wind. She might well have stayed with him upon his paradise while the world be damned. She had cared so very deeply. And now with his touch upon her…

“Do you remember? Darkness had fallen and you defied me and all danger to escape the night. And you promised me anything, anything at all that I could desire. To give to me all. You later retracted the promise—you had given it to a pirate. But you did not retract, in truth, and I will never forget the time that you gave me the innocence, the trust.”

“You never forget?” she whispered. “Except when you bed with whores?”

“Never even then,” he replied. “You tell me, milady, do you think of me when you bed with your husband?”

She pulled from him quickly, lowering her head. She had made new vows in her heart. She had sworn that when this danger was over, she would never fight her legal lord and husband again. She would live with him at Cameron Hall, and love him for all of her life.

If he wanted her still, after what she had done. Perhaps this time he would not forgive her.

Her heart seemed to tear within her chest and she wondered if he could understand what she had done. She was afraid to return, she realized, and she wondered not only who she loved the more, the pirate or the lord, or, at the moment, who she feared the more. In the whole of her life no man had had such power over her; now she was storm-tossed between two men, ever battling, and seldom leaving the fray without some wound.

“I love my husband,” she said softly.

“What?”

He came up to her, spinning her around to see her face. His gaze was as sharp as his snapping voice, full of demand. Her eyes widened with surprise at his manner, but just then the door burst open again. Robert Arrowsmith had returned. “The men are heading to the longboats and await you. We’d best hurry. It seems that someone has spied a group of the lieutenant governor’s militia coming our way. I can leave the lady in their care, and find you as you sail.”

“Fine,” the Hawk said. He turned, captured her hand elegantly, and kissed it with courtly finesse. “Milady, I stand forever at your service. My promise is my vow, as I am sure that yours shall be.”

His eyes sought hers quickly, and then he was gone. She was left to Robert’s care.

“We should leave now, and quickly,” he told her. “The word is out that Spotswood’s men approach. This place is coming alive with scurvies afraid of capture and hanging. I must leave in safety, and see to my own continued life, if you don’t mind.”

She shook her head, certain that she never wanted Robert Arrowsmith to hang. She dreaded returning to Williamsburg, and even more she dreaded returning to her husband. Perhaps there was some way to explain why she had rendered him unconscious, but she was certain that she could not make him understand a promise such as the one she had made to the Silver Hawk.

She could never explain it. But then, neither would she ever be able to forget it.

“Milady?”

Robert offered her his arm and she took it and they hurried toward the stairs together. Once there, they were brought up sharply.

The Hawk’s men were gone, but many another knave was not. They awaited Robert standing in a circle at the foot of the stairs. He paused, shoving her behind him.

One fellow with a gold tooth and straggling dark hair stepped forward, grinning broadly. “Why, ’tis Mr. Arrowsmith of the Silver Hawk’s sloop, is it not? Alas, while the Hawk’s away…”

“What do you want, Fellows?” Robert demanded darkly.

Fellows lifted his hand, rubbing his thumb together with his forefinger. “What is it that we always want, good Master Robert? Gold, son, and that’s a fact.” Jeering, he pointed a finger behind Robert toward Skye. Nervously she pulled her hood further down upon her forehead. “There’s rumor in the common room that the Hawk was visited by a lady…and that the lady was none other than the Cameron bride. She’s a pretty thing, ain’t she? Nay, lads, more than pretty. She’s a beauty true and rare, and that’s a fact. She’s a ticket out of here to any man. She’s a very fortune in gold—”

“Let me by, Fellows. She’s been given the Hawk’s safe passage, and that’s a fact.”

Fellows cocked his head. “Why, the Hawk’s gone, Master Robert. ’E’s gone after Logan, so I ’ear, and this time, I daresay, they will kill each other at last. I fear the Hawk no longer.”

“Don’t you, then?”

The voice thundered across the room and all assembled at the foot of the stairs turned quickly to the doorway. The Hawk wasn’t gone at all, not yet. He was standing in the doorway with his greatcoat over his shoulders and his sword drawn. He lifted his hand, beckoning to Fellows. “Come, sir, let’s discuss this with our steel, shall we?”

“Get the girl!” Fellows bellowed out.

It was quickly apparent that he did not intend to battle the Hawk, not when a roomful of men stood between them. Some loathsome young man with filthy hands and rum-coated breath lunged toward Skye. She screamed, hurrying up toward the top of the stairs. Robert came against the young man, not reaching for his sword but jabbing his fist into the lad’s jaw. The young man went down, and then Robert drew his sword.

“Get her out!” the Hawk raged to Robert across the room.

Robert shoved her upward. They were quickly pursued. Robert dueled with agility and grace, but he had no less than three opponents at a time.

“I need a sword, Robert!” Skye called.

“A sword, milady?”

He lunged at an opponent. The man gasped, clutching his skewered middle. He fell forward, and his sword fell to his feet.

Skye could not take the time to look upon the ugly death with horror. She plucked up the enemy’s sword and swept her skirts behind her, anxious to parry their attackers along with Robert.

“Me! My hearties, ’tis me you must fight!” the Hawk cried, coming further and further into the room, battling all who came his way with a startling ferocity and trying to draw opponents from Robert and Skye.

He was strong, Skye thought, yet his brilliance at swordplay lay in his grace. No sword could touch him, for he could leap above the steel. No man could surprise him, for he would suddenly soar atop a wooden table and leap down upon his attacker.

“Come!” Robert urged her.

They fought to the top of the stairway. The Hawk fought his way closer and closer to them, and then he was suddenly beside them, his steel bathed in blood. They entered into the hallway, then he pushed open the door to the room where they had been. He shoved her inside, then Robert, then entered himself.

“The bed!” he roared to Robert.

Between them they shoved the bed against the door. Swords and knives hacked against it. It would burst open soon, Skye thought, in a bare matter of seconds.

The Hawk was already across the room and to the window. He picked up the hearth chair and sent it shattering against the murky panes. He jerked the dirty drapes down and wrapped them quickly about his wrist, shoving aside the broken glass. Then he turned to her. “Come on.”

“What?” she demanded incredulously. “We’re on the second floor, Captain Hawk. You—you and Robert can jump. I cannot!”

“You can!” Robert assured her. “You will be all right. It’s our only chance. It—”

“Oh, for the love of God, Robert! We have to go!”

Skye screamed as the Hawk suddenly strode to her and swept her up and brought her straight to the window. He did not pause, nor could she begin to fight his movement or his speed.

He meant to kill her! He meant to cast her straight out of the window!

He did just that, tossing her instantly. She screamed for all that she was worth as she fell and fell into the night, then her scream was silenced and her breath was swept away as she landed hard upon a stack of hay. A body fell near hers, and then another. She tried to scramble up. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t believe that she was alive.

Skye pushed herself up at last.

“Go, Jacko!” the Hawk called out.

And Skye fell again, flat on her back, as the hay wagon that held her jerked forward. She tried to struggle up again, but the ride was rickety and so swift she could barely move. Fingers curled around hers. “Lie still!”

The wagon came to a halt. The Hawk and Robert leaped down, then their driver, Jacko. The Hawk reached for Skye, lifting her up, and she recognized Jacko from her days aboard the pirate ship. He bowed to her with a broad grin. “’Evening, milady!”

They stood upon the dock. Skye could hear the lap of the water. “My God, how did you know to double back?” Robert demanded of the Hawk.

“I didn’t like the look on some of the men’s faces as I left,” the Hawk said briefly. “Jacko here thought to borrow the wagon and head around back to the windows, for which I am eternally grateful.”

“We have to move,” Jacko said. “Any minute now they shall discover the room empty, and the bulk of our men have headed out. They’ll have to run themselves, with the militia coming. We’ve got to reach the ship, and quickly, Captain.”

“What about Lady Cameron?” Robert asked.

The Hawk looked her up and down and then issued an exasperated sigh. “She comes with us. We’ve no choice. I cannot send her back, even with the militia coming. There are no guarantees.” He caught Skye’s arm and jerked her up against him. “Madame, I have said it before, and I say it again. You are trouble!”

She jerked away, her fingers still tight about the sword she had plucked from the slain ruffian. “You pirated my ship, Captain Hawk! Bear that in mind, sir! Had you lived an honest life, we’d have never met!”

“That thought could, indeed, make a cutthroat repent, milady. I shall bear it in mind. Now, let’s go!”

He stepped toward her and she was afraid of some fight, but he merely swept her up into his arms and took another step with balanced precision into the darkness beneath them. She muffled a cry of alarm, for they had merely come down into the longboat, and Jacko and Robert were following them. The men quickly picked up oars, and they slid away, silently, into the night.

The Hawk leaned toward her suddenly. She was shivering; she had grown very cold despite her cloak.

“Milady, I dare not light a lamp. Will you be all right.”

She nodded. His eyes remained fixed on hers.

Suddenly the soft sound of the oars dipping against the water was drowned by the shouts and fury that emanated from the tavern. “Company comes!” Jacko laughed.

“Ah, and I fear too late!” Robert said, pleased. Skye quickly looked back toward the land. The rogues from the tavern were spilling out to the stretch of land before the docks. They raced for their boats, but even as they sought the water, an explosion of shots was heard on the air.

“The militia,” Robert murmured.

“They’ll be taken?” Skye whispered.

“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.

She fell down upon the bunk, exhausted. It had to be nearly dawn, and there wasn’t a thing in the world that she could do at the moment.

She dropped her sword, doffed her cloak, and stretched out upon the bed. Her mind raced and her heart ached and fits of trembling seized her again and again.

At last she stood up and went straight to the Hawk’s liquor supply. She downed a good portion of rum, recorked the bottle, and staggered back to the bunk. She fell down upon it again.

And that time, she slept.

In the morning she awoke alone.

She had feared the Hawk throughout the night, but he had not come near her. As she rose, she realized miserably that she did not fear his force, but her own response.

Robert came, quiet and subdued, bringing her breakfast and water with which to wash. He watched her intently. “It was not your fault,” he told her. “The Hawk’s not pleased at all that you’re with us, but don’t be alarmed by him, it was not your fault.”

“Thank you, Robert.”

He smiled to her encouragingly. “Robert, if a pardon comes through, is there any possibility that you will forswear your ways and sign loyalty to the king?”

She thought that his smile deepened, but he quickly lowered his lashes and she could not see his eyes any longer. “I will do whatever the captain does, madame.”

“Is your loyalty so fierce, then?”

“It is.” He hesitated. “He nevers betrays a trust, milady. He has said that he will lay down his life for you—he will do so then. I will lay down my life for him. That is how we all feel, all of us sailing with him. And that is why he is feared and respected.” He paused, as if he longed to go on. Then he shrugged. “The door is open, milady, you are welcome topside.”

“Wait, Robert!” she pleaded. He stopped, and it was her turn to pause as a crimson flush climbed over her face. “Robert, where did he sleep last night?”

Robert’s gaze swept over her, and he smiled secretively. “In the officers’ quarters, milady. Is there any other way in which I may serve you now?”

In the officers’ quarters…

He had given her his cabin in privacy. Was he waiting to collect his payment, the honorable rogue to the very end? The thought made her shiver, and then she remembered her husband left lying upon the floor, and she wondered where Lord Cameron had spent the night. A fierce surge of trembling rose within her and she had to sit down upon the bunk. Roc…could he forgive all of this? Would he disown her, or beat her? Or both. Such behavior would lie well within his rights for all that she had done.

And gave promise to do in the future.

She didn’t know who she hated the most then, Lord Cameron or the Hawk. She didn’t know who she feared more.

And she still didn’t know who she loved more.

“All you all right, milady?” Robert asked anxiously.

“I’m—I’m fine, Robert. Thank you.”

“There’s nothing I can do?”

She shook her head slowly. When he was gone, she picked at the food that he had brought her, then she quickly washed, brushed her hair, and came topside.

The sails were mostly drawn in, and they traveled slowly and very close to shore. Dangerously close, Skye thought. She could see land to the starboard side. She looked to the carved platform and to the helm and saw that the Hawk was there, navigating his own ship that day.

Skye smiled to the men she passed upon the deck, and they smiled in turn or tipped their hats. Once, she had been in terror of these men, she thought. Now they were her allies.

Her friends.

She couldn’t dwell upon such curious twists of fate. She hurried by them and up the platform.

The Hawk was in a black open-necked shirt and black breeches and his dark head was bared to the day. He nodded to her gravely when she came his way.

“Did you sleep well, milady?”

She nodded. “Did you?”

“Alas, I whiled away the night in dreams.”

“I thank you for that, Captain Hawk,” she said softly. He glanced to her, then looked up toward the crow’s nest.

“Jacko!”

“Aye, Captain?”

“Is she clear?”

“As clear as fine crystal, Captain!”

“Robert! Mr. Arrowsmith!”

“Aye, Captain!” Robert was quickly with him, bounding up the steps of the platform from the far deck.

“Take the wheel, sir, if you please.”

“As you please, Captain!” Robert agreed.

The Hawk stepped away, offering Skye his arm. She hesitated, then took it, glancing wryly toward Robert. “I wonder if His Majesty’s ships of the Royal Navy work so smoothly,” she murmured.

“I wonder,” the Hawk agreed pleasantly. He led her starboard side, where the sea breeze touched her face and lifted her hair. “I’ve a few lady’s things aboard,” he told her. “We had not anticipated your arrival, and so little was prepared. What I have will be sent to you by afternoon.” He leaned against the rail, watching her intently. “I know your penchant for bathing, milady, and would not deny you the pleasure.”

She flushed slightly and turned to stare out at the coastline. “I want nothing of your ill-gotten gain, Captain,” she told him.

“Who says that what I offer is ill-gotten gain?”

She glanced at him sharply, and then her color deepened. “I want nothing belonging to your whores, either, Captain, thank you.”

He smiled, staring out on the water silently, not touching her. “Milady, I promise you, what I send belongs to no whore.”

“Then—”

“Certain of my men are married, milady. Though their wives’ finery might not be to your standards, still, certain…” He paused, his eyes meeting hers with a devilish light. “Certain intimate apparel will be clean and neat and surely acceptable.”

Even his silver eyes seemed to touch and stroke her, she thought. She should be far away from him. Far, far away.

She stared across to the shore. “Tell me, Captain, do you intend to let me wear this clean and neat clothing on my own?”

“Milady?”

“Are you—” Her lips were dry, and she was breathless, and they merely stood together and spoke. If only she could forget the past. If only the slightest brush of his arm against hers did not evoke memories of tempest.

“Are you going to leave me in peace, Captain? Your cabin, sir, have you given me that as my own?”

He took a long time answering. When she looked to him at last, he was studying her very seriously. “Until it is time to do otherwise.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we’ve found and taken your father, milady. Then I will return. It will be most difficult for you to keep your promise to me if I am bedded elsewhere.”

She did not reply but tore her eyes from his to survey the shore. “With my father on board?” she queried softly.

“You’re worried about your father—and not your husband?”

“My husband is not aboard,” she murmured miserably.

“Ah…so that makes it all right to be an adulteress?”

“Stop it!” she hissed desperately. “Nothing makes it all right!”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” he murmured. He turned her around by the shoulders. She tried to jerk free from his touch, but he would not allow her to go. She stared up at him, her eyes glazing with tears.

“I need your help!” she insisted bitterly. “I had no choice. My father—”

“Aye, your father,” he muttered darkly. “And still I tell you, milady, that your husband would have gladly fought and died rather than let you pay this price.”

“His blood cannot be payment for my request.”

“Aye, milady, for his blood has become your blood, as surely as yours is his. God alone knows how he will feel this time!”

“What do you mean?” she cried, wrenching away from him at last.

“Well, milady, I assume you must have admitted something.” The sweep of his eyes told her clearly and boldly that he spoke of her lack of innocence when she entered into her marital bed. “What did you say? That it was fear? Loneliness? Desperation, a bid to save your very life! This time…perhaps you need not tell him that you bartered with what was his, that you offered yourself in payment. You can tell him that I am a pirate, a cutthroat, a ravaging rapist, and that I dragged you down before you had a chance to think.” He reached out for her again so suddenly that she nearly screamed. His fingers threaded cruelly into the hair at her nape, and he dragged her close. “Maybe he’ll be so enraged he’ll beat you to within an inch of your life. I wonder what I would do, milady, if you were my wife, under such circumstances. I’d kill the man, that is for certain.”

She kicked him savagely, taking him by surprise. He howled with outrage as her foot came in wild contact with his shin, then he jerked harder upon her hair, pulling her flush against him. He gritted his teeth. “Pirates, milady. We are allowed to be savages, remember? But I do wonder just how savage your fine aristocrat of a husband might turn out to be when he hears of this latest maneuver on your part! But then, you told me that you loved him, didn’t you?”

“Let me go!” she cried frantically. “He is my concern.” Aye, Roc was her concern, just as the Hawk was her concern. And at the moment, he was the man to fill her heart and her thoughts, for she was so completely his prisoner. From head to toe she was flush with the man, achingly aware of the heat of his muscles, the strength of his hands and arms, the fire in his groin. It occurred to her fleetingly then that she knew him more thoroughly still than she did Petroc Cameron, for this one she had seen boldly in the nude, while her husband had seduced her and been seduced in return while never quite shedding his clothing.

Warmth blazed through her as she struggled to be free.

“Captain!”

“Aye!” He released her instantly, striding the deck to come back upon the platform by the helm. It was Jacko calling to him from atop the crow’s nest.

“I see ships ahead, far right into the inlet.”

“Pirates?”

“Aye, sir! I see Teach’s flag atop the one. They’re drawing it in, I believe.”

“Safe harbor on the islands!” Robert Arrowsmith seemed to growl.

Skye hurried after the Hawk to the platform. “Where are we?” she demanded.

“My glass!” the Hawk demanded. He leaped for the mast and began to shimmy up the length of it. Skye watched his dexterity with perplexity and annoyance, then turned to Robert. “Robert! Where are we? What is going on, here?”

“A party, milady.”

“A party!”

“A pirate fete upon a North Carolina island. A number of men have gathered here. Teach just took some incredible prize and enhanced his reputation a thousand times over. We believe he has a certain immunity here, in this area of North Carolina. So do some of the others.”

Skye gasped. “So Eden of Carolina has been bribed by the pirates!”

“So goes the rumor.”

“But why have we come…?” she began, but even at the last, her voice trailed away. “Logan! The Hawk thinks that Logan has come here with my father!”

“Precisely, Lady Cameron.”

Skye fell silent and hurried back to the railing, looking starboard side. She realized that the Hawk was calling down orders to Robert Arrowsmith, and that Robert was then calling out commands to the crew. The sails were drawn in tighter and the ship began to shift. Skye thought that the Hawk meant to sail straight into the land, and she nearly turned to scream that they were insane. But just when she would have done so, she saw the narrow channel leading inland. It was a fair space ahead of the other pirate ships.

They were going to hide, she thought. Hide, until the Hawk could get a fair layout on the land—and its inhabitants.

She was right in her assumptions.

Turning about again, she saw that the order had been given to bring down the longboats.

Then a moment later, in the midst of all the activity, the Hawk was striding back toward her. He was fully armed now, she saw, with his cutlass in his scabbard, a knife in a sheath at his boot, and a brace of pistols shoved into his waistband.

“Go back to the cabin,” he told her curtly. “Stay out of sight.”

He started to turn away. “Wait!” she cried to him, catching hold of his arm. “Please, don’t leave me here—”

“Damn you, stay out of sight!” he told her, his eyes narrowing. “You little witch! Don’t you remember the last time, girl? If you hadn’t been so determined to escape, Logan might well never have known that you existed!”

And he might not have kidnapped her father. The words went unsaid. Skye stepped back as if she had been stung, but she did not cease her argument, for it was the same as his.

“Please, don’t leave me here! It is because—” she hesitated, then continued, “it is because of my very foolish determination at that time that I beg you to bring me along.”

He hesitated, and she knew that he recalled how Logan had come to the ship when it had been weak and unguarded.

“Damn it!” he swore. “Damn it! Aye, come along, then! But you heed my words and warnings at all times, and so help me, if you prove to be trouble, I will lash you to a tree! Robert! Get the lady’s cloak.”

“Robert! And my sword, please!” Skye added.

The Hawk stared at her. He did not refuse her request. “Come, lady,” he said at last, as Robert brought her things. “We’ll take the first boat.”

His touch was far from gentle as he handed her down the ladder to the longboat from the deck. He was not leaving the ship as unguarded as he had in New Providence, but at least twenty-five of his men were accompanying them.

He did not row, but balanced forward, looking ahead. Jacko and Robert and two others were in their boat, rowing steadily. Skye sat tense and silent, watching as they came to land.

When they did, the Hawk asked no by-your-leave, but plucked her up in his arms and thrashed through the water with her in his arms. She smiled suddenly as he carried her, taut and distant, over the sand to the secrecy and shadows of the brush. He glanced down, startled by her gaze.

“Once,” she whispered, “you said that I wasn’t even worth a fair price in gold. But you are risking your life for one night in my arms. Should I be flattered, Captain Hawk?”

“Perhaps I value my life less than gold. Perhaps that is a pirate’s way.”

“I, sir, do not value your life as less!”

She thought that he would be pleased. He stiffened like cold steel and fell to his knees to dump her angrily upon the sand. His men milled behind them but he spoke in a heated whisper anyway.

“What of your life, lady—and all that is of value to your husband?”

She straightened herself, longing to slap him. He knew her intent, for he quickly caught her wrist, and together they rolled across the sand. Breathlessly she shoved against him.

He paused at last. They had come beneath the shadow of spidery trees, on a bed of pines. He rose over her. He cupped her chin in his hands and bent down to kiss her. She tried to twist away. Her resistance was to no avail. His lips found hers. His tongue ravaged them, demanding that they part to him. He was merciless, savage, demanding. She could scarce breathe. She twisted and kicked.

But she could not move, nor could she deny the wild abandon that snaked traitorously into her veins. He brought her alive with fire, with liquid heat. She could fight no more. She tasted his lips and tongue and the deep recesses of his mouth, tears coming to her eyes. She felt his hands upon her, sweeping along her thigh, cupping her breast.

Then at last he broke away. He started to swear at her furiously, incoherently, but then his words broke away. He gently smoothed the tear from her cheek with his forefinger, then he drew her to her feet.

“You will wait here with Robert, do you understand me? I am looking today, nothing more. I may, perhaps, leave you ashore tonight, and enter into the festivities with you safely out of sight and far, far from harm’s way. Stay with Robert and my men, and take care. Do you understand me?”

She nodded. He turned and, shouting orders, left her. She waited until he was long gone, then she came over and joined Robert, who sat idly by the shore. Others of the men had stayed behind, too. Five of them. To protect her, Skye thought.

By Robert’s side, she suddenly burst into tears. He set his arm around her like a brother, drawing her close. Miserably, awkwardly, he tried to comfort her. “I’ve tried to tell him. Ah, Skye, I’ve tried, I’m so sorry.…”

“What?” she managed to gasp out. “Tell him what?”

“To leave you be,” he whispered. “You don’t understand. You can’t possibly understand. He…never mind. It will be all right. Trust me, milady, trust me, please.”

She fell silent and stayed by his side.

Later he rose, looking upward with agitation. “What is it?” Skye demanded.

“Clouds. Storm clouds. I don’t like them.”

Skye looked up herself. Even as she did so, it seemed that the day darkened. The breeze picked up.

“We should get back,” Robert said.

“We can’t leave him! We can’t leave the Hawk!” Skye protested.

“We won’t be leaving him. I’ll take you back, and he can come with the others in one of the longboats.”

A sudden, brilliant flash of lightning rent the sky. Thunder followed it like a clash of heavenly swords. “Come on!”

Robert dragged her to her feet. Skye whirled around as the other men rose, hurrying toward them.

The rain began to fall.

“We head to the ship in one boat!” Robert cried. He reached for Skye’s hand. A second bolt of lightning came, and thunder followed, and the very heavens seemed to open up upon them. “Come, Skye!” Robert grabbed her hand, and they started racing down the beach. Then suddenly she stopped, and she slammed hard against him. “Hawk!”

Skye pushed sodden tendrils of hair from her face to stare ahead of herself. He was indeed coming back. Running along before the main group of his men, he reached them. He spoke quickly to Robert. “They’re here all right, a full party of them. Logan, Teach, a fine baker’s dozen of others. We’ll move in tomorrow. For now, let’s hie from here. This storm promises to be fierce!”

He reached behind Robert, finding Skye’s hand and pulling her along. He lifted her and shoved her into one of the longboats. Robert and two men crawled in behind them and shoved them away from the shore.

The Hawk ignored Skye, rowing hard with the others. Lightning flashed, thunder cracked, and she flinched. At the shoreline she could see the waves swelling and the trees and bracken bending low to the strength of the wind. She shivered. In a matter of moments, it seemed, a true tempest had swirled upon them.

“Damn!” Robert swore. “I cannot hold her steady!”

“Pull together!” ordered the Hawk.

Skye turned around. She could see the ship, and it still seemed far ahead of them. The ferocity of the waves seemed to push them ever closer toward the shore.

“Take care of the rocks!” the Hawk cried, but he had barely voiced the words when a terrible rending sound was heard. Skye didn’t know what had happened at first. The sound seemed part of the horror of the storm, like the crack of thunder, like the high scream of the wind. “Signal the others!” the Hawk cried. Skye stared at him and saw the power he set to the oars, trying to hold the small boat steady. She looked to her feet. Water rushed in upon them. They had struck a rock. They were sinking, she realized.

“Fulton has seen us!” Robert cried. “He’s circling back.”

“Dive in, we’ll take less water, and I’ll stay with Skye to the last!” the Hawk shouted. “She cannot make it far in these skirts!”

“I can’t leave you—”

“You’ll drown us if you stay! It will come right, Robert, if we don’t take any more water! Tyler, Havensworth, dive now, and reach Fulton, and bring him around for us!”

Seeing the wisdom of his words, his men quickly obeyed his orders. Skye gasped, her hand coming quickly to her mouth, for it instantly seemed that the wild sea swallowed them over. Grayness prevailed.

Then she saw Robert’s head as he broke out of the waves. Then she saw the two other men, and that they could survive; they were swimming hard toward another boat.

She glanced down to her feet again. The water was rising high. She looked to the Hawk. He was staring at her.

“Ready?” he asked.

She lifted her chin with a smile of bravado. “I am afraid of the dark, not the water!” she told him. A slow smile curved into his features. He reached out to her.

“Come then, my love!”

She took his hand. The rescue boat was almost next to them, but Skye realized that they had to jump and swim—else risk the damaged boat crashing with the one that would save them. With her fingers entwined with the Hawk’s, she dove over the side.

She was instantly dragged down. The water was cold, heavy, and dark. Her lungs hurt and she tried to kick her way back to the surface. She was so very heavy.

There was a jerk upon her hand. The Hawk was dragging her up. Her face broke the surface. Still, she could scarce breathe. The rain beat against her savagely, the wind screamed and tore at her, stealing away what breath she could gasp in.

“Swim!” the Hawk commanded.

A giant wave crashed down upon her. Their hands were torn apart. Skye felt as if she were lifted by a giant icy hand and tossed about. She was heavy, so heavy! Wildly, desperately, she broke the pull of the sea.

Salt water stung her eyes and filled her mouth as she gasped for air. She strained to see, and horror engulfed her. The longboat seemed to be miles away. Miles and miles away.

And the Hawk was next to it, clinging to it. He could crawl right over to safety, while she…

Water rose and crashed over her head again. She started going down. Her lungs were going to burst. Searing pain swept through them. She realized that she was about to die, to drown, to sink down to the sea bed in a swirl of bone and petticoats and skirts, and lie there to be food for sharks and other fishes. Life, sweet tempest that it was, would be over. Death could not be so hard. Not so painful as the agony that came to her lungs. Not so terrifying as the sea green darkness and the cold that was enveloping her. They said that a drowning man saw his life flash before his eyes. What of a drowning woman?

A drowning woman saw her lover’s face, she thought, but her air was all but gone, and she did not know if she saw her husband or the Hawk before her.…

Pain awoke her just before she opened her mouth to breathe in gallons of the water. Fingers entwined in her hair, dragging her up and up. She broke the surface and through the darkness and gray and pelting of the rain, she saw the Hawk.

“Swim!” he commanded her furiously.

“I cannot! My petticoats—”

“Shut up!”

He was holding her against him, treading the water with a fury and coming at her with a knife. If she had had breath, she would have screamed. He meant to slay her so that she would not drown, she thought incredulously.

But he did not slay her. His knife did not cut into her flesh, but severed away her clothing. Her skirts and petticoats fell, and her legs were free, and she could tread water herself. “Get rid of your shoes!” he shouted.

She reached down and gulped in some water. He spun her around, digging into her hair again, but holding her face above water. She managed to shed her shoes. She realized that he was already swimming, his fingers dragging her along by the hair.

“I can manage!” she cried. Twisting, she began to go with the water. He wasn’t fighting the current or the waves. He was allowing the rush of the storm to cast them toward the shore.

Hope surged within her, but then it died. She was tiring so quickly! And it took them so long. The shoreline seemed so close, and then a gray wave would crash over her, and it would seem miles away again. She started to flag. He caught her by the hair again.

“Stop!” she cried. The cold was numbing. It made her want to die. “Stop, you’re hurting me. I can’t make it. Go on!”

“I’ll hurt you like you can’t imagine if you don’t stop fighting me!” he swore. His fingers were grasping her, biting cruelly into her. They laced through her hair, and he was swimming hard again. She ceased trying to fight him. The rain was all around her, as gray as the sky, as dark as the sea. There was no difference between them. Sky and rain and sea were one, and they were imprisoned by them all.

“There. Hold on!” the Hawk demanded.

She didn’t know if she held on or not. The darkness encompassed her. She went limp. She sank beneath the waves. The shore was just ahead of them. She saw that. Then the world was dark.

She came to moments later because she was flat in the sand, and he was straddled over her, his mouth on hers, forcing air into her lungs. She gasped, and breathed on her own. Her eyes flew open.

“We’re alive!” she cried.

“We’re alive,” he said simply. He crashed down beside her. She realized that she could no longer feel the rain. He had brought them into the shelter of a small cove with overhanging rock and ledge.

She could think no more that night. She closed her eyes, and slept.

The sun, hot and beautiful upon her damp body, awoke her. Skye rolled, dazed, to her side. She looked about, and she saw the Hawk. He was still out, sprawled not ten feet away from her. Desperately pleased to see him with her and alive, she crawled the distance to him. If he slept, she could dare to wake him with a tender kiss. This morning, she could not feel guilt or shame.

Yet before she could touch him, she paused. A frown furrowed her brow as she stared down at his face.

Half of his beard had been sheared away. His mustache, too. Bits and pieces of hair clung to his flesh in a very odd manner.

She reached out and touched the hair. It came away in her grasp. It was fake. His beard was fake. He was really clean shaven. And with the beard gone to display the contours and angles of his face, he looked even more like Petroc Cameron. In fact, he looked exactly like Petroc Cameron.

She stared at him, and the truth slowly, slowly dawned upon her. She stood, forgetting their wild fight for life and death, forgetting everything as rage seared into her heart, blinding her to the entire world.

“Bastard!” she shrieked, and she awoke him not with a kiss, but with a wild and savage kick to the midsection.