Page 9

T he atoll was every inch as barren and desolate as Stubb had described.

Much like an iceberg, the bulk of the island lay underwater, sloping so far out that a ship could not come within three hundred yards without scraping the keel.

Half a mile long, the highest point rose a mere forty feet above the surface of the ocean, removing any possibility of a vessel using it as a shield to hide behind.

On the leeward side, there was a break in the solid sheets of rock, a crevice barely wide enough for a longboat to row safely through.

Once past the outer pincers of the ‘claws’, the rock widened in the middle to formed a rim around an egg-shaped tidal pool, the centre of which was inky dark.

The pool was open to the sea, the water undrinkable, useless to passing ships.

As Stubb had said, there were no trees crowning the atoll, nothing taller than patches of scrub brush growing out of crevices.

Even with crews from the three ships working steadily to offload the Hyperion , the heavy bundles of copper sheathing were taking far too long to haul up from the cargo bays, winch across to the longboats, and ferry to the atoll.

Rose grew increasingly anxious when cables snapped or a boat capsized from attempting to load too much weight.

She spent every hour on the crest of the knoll, her long-glass searching the western horizon, the direction from which any hunters would likely appear.

To the east, lying out of sight below the horizon was the southern tip of Hispaniola.

Rose was fairly confident they could not be detected as they worked feverishly to transfer the copper, but the Spanish island was still too close for comfort.

While her fleet of three ships might present an imposing sight at a distance, the salvageable guns on board the Hyperion had been transferred to the Cygnet , rendering the English vessel with no means to fight or defend itself.

The guns on board the Pride were still in the process of being reamed out and cleaned, leaving only the Cygnet fully capable of any kind of defense.

The fact those defenses had been increased from thirty-two guns to forty was little comfort.

Rose was not eager to cross wakes with any patrolling galleons. It was enough to wonder how long it would take Lafitte’s trackers to catch their scent.

Each time she speculated on who might be following in their wake, an image of Sebastien Fonteyne’s face came to mind and her pulse quickened.

In some small, incautious part of her mind she hoped it would, indeed, be him, for if she wanted to show she was capable of sailing with the best, she had to prove she could outfox the best.

If it was Sebastien Fonteyne chasing her down, he was undoubtedly furious over what had happened at Barataria.

In truth, she had not yet allowed herself to acknowledge the shock of standing chest to breast with him after so many years.

Crowded into that doorway, his big body pressed against her, she had felt her heart racing like a wild thing.

If she closed her eyes she could see his face, smell the leather and bay rum on his skin, feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

Five years ago, with their bodies stuck together with the sweat from their exertions, he had thought it a joke that she wanted to captain her own ship.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am completely serious. I have been sailing with my father since I was six years old. I have stood at the helm, I have fired and swabbed the guns; I have learned to navigate by the sun as well as the stars, and I can wield a sword as well as any man.”

“Aye, but have you killed another man?”

“Yes. I have.”

Her head was in the crook of his shoulder, his hand was toying with strands of her hair. Hearing her answer, his fingers stopped moving, trying to decide if she was serious or being a minx. “I suppose you can also shoot the eye out of a rat at one hundred paces?”

“With a musket at fifty, aye.”

He laughed and rolled her onto her side, then onto her back, keeping his body firmly wedged between her thighs. “Then, despite all your questions earlier tonight, I warrant you have nothing left to learn from me.”

“Well, there was one thing. But I am now quite thoroughly enlightened.”

He had been just about to kiss her again, but stopped and raised his head. His hair had fallen over his forehead, his flesh still full and thudding softly inside her.

He leaned further back and when he read the meaning behind her sly smile, his gaze followed the valley between her breasts down to below her belly where their bodies were joined.

“You were a virgin?”

She had debated lying, but knew he would see through it. “I thought a man could tell.”

“Not always,” he said quietly. “Not when they are too …”

“Intent on satisfying their own pleasure?” she finished for him.

He pushed himself all the way up and she frowned as the warm slide of his flesh abandoned hers. He stretched out beside her and stared up at the ceiling.

“Virgins are a complication I usually try to avoid.”

“I certainly have no wish to be a complication. I merely thought, if I am to live and work on board a ship with a hundred men for months on end, it was important to recognize a man’s motives, to not fall into a swoon like an addled schoolgirl every time I was looked at a certain way or forced into a compromising position by word or gesture. ”

He turned his head to frown at her. “I am glad I could be of service.”

“And now you are angry. Or insulted?” She sat up and gathered the folds of the bedsheet around her. “Because I used you exactly the way you wanted to use me to get back at my brother for not helping you get your men back?”

He had stared at her, she had stared at him, and he hadn’t denied the charge.

Rose blinked and snapped her spyglass closed along with the memory.

“This is taking far too long. I never should have let you talk me into this.

Standing beside her, Stubb mouthed her words silently in unison as she said them for the hundredth time. Aloud he asked, “When do ye ever do aught on my advice alone? It were the crew what voted an’ the crew what convinced ye to stay an’ let them work the extra day.”

“You standing over them brandishing your pistols had no influence over them, I’m sure.”

“I were cleanin’ them.”

Rose reached down and pinched his ear hard enough for him to squeak out a curse.

“Oh please, let me help,” came a voice from behind.

Rose turned as Billy Burr joined them at the top of the knoll and flicked Stubb’s other ear. He clapped his hands over both ears and cursed again.

The Cygnet’s gun captain was as tall as Rose and shared the distinction of being the second woman on board the ship to hold a position of command normally dominated by men.

Her hair was dark and cropped short, her arms and legs were corded with muscle, her hands rough, thick with calluses.

Her skin was bronzed from years spent under the tropical sun; large green eyes looked at the world as if everything was a challenge to be conquered.

She might have been a beauty, had the right side of her face and neck not been scarred by powder burns.

Billy never spoke of her past. The lilt in her voice hinted at a mixture of British, Spanish, Dutch, and French—all languages she could speak fluently.

She claimed to have spent four years disguised as a man on board a Dutch East India ship, but when she heard there was a female captain taking on crew, she shed the bands around her breasts and lined up to join Rose’s company.

Her skill and knowledge in handling weapons of every kind had quickly dispelled any rebellion amongst the men.

Billy made another pinching motion toward Stubb and chuckled as the little man flinched and scrambled out of arm’s reach. Tormenting him was one of her small pleasures.

“Have you had a chance to take a good look at the guns on board the Pride ?” Rose asked, in no mood to watch the two spar.

“If any of them have been use any time during the last year, I’ll fuck a shark. I found bird nests in three of them and rust inside most. I have my crews cleaning and reaming them out but I won’t know how sound they are until I can fire them.”

“Powder and shot?”

“More than I expected, less than I hoped. Enough to see us through one good fight but two would be a stretch. Most of the cloth charges were rotted, so I’ve put the sail makers to work making new cartridges from silk, which should cut down on the debris they leave in the barrel.

Other than that, hell, for all I know the muzzles will explode with the first broadside.

The twenty-fours are so corroded I would like to just tip them over the side. I’d feel better if we could test them.”

Stubb sighed noisily, knowing that when Billy started talking about guns and cannon, the discussions were never very short. He shaded his eyes with a pudgy hand.

“Storm be comin’. Big bitch too, by the way my ballocks be achin’.”

As one, Rose and Billy looked up at the sky. It was a clear, searing blue, and while the seas were rough, the wind was hot and steady.

“It be comin’,” Stubb insisted. “Tonight, I warrant, if not afore. My sacs be as hard as goose eggs, an’ when they be like that, ye can be sure a big blow is comin’. We should put toe to heel an’ not linger longer than need be.”

Rose glared an icy reminder that he was the one who persuaded the crew to stay the extra day to save more of the copper.

“How long can we keep the Hyperion afloat?” she asked. “I would rather not sink her this close to the atoll.”

“She be a mort lighter with twenty ton o’ copper gone, but she won’t last long. We took most o’ the men off the pumps on account it were just wastin’ energy.”

Rose nodded and glanced at Billy. “Looks like you’ll be getting that chance to test Lafitte’s guns.”

“Or blow up yerself an’ the brothel tryin’,” Stubb snorted.