Bound by the Heart (41 page)

"I recommend you get what you
need and be quick about it," Glasse drawled.

Summer hastened to the sea chest
which was filled with the purchases she had made the previous day. She found
clean linens and clothes and went back to the bedside with a fresh basin of
warm water.

"Excuse me," she said
bitterly and stepped between the guard and the child.

How much time had lapsed, she
wondered? She knew she held Glasse's attention, and she knew the guard would be
doubly watchful for any sudden moves from her or Phillips, but at least he was
within reach now. Thorny had deduced what she was about and had sidled away
from the bed, grumbling to himself about his own shortcomings as far as
Stuart's injuries were concerned. It was up to him to distract the gun away
from Sarah, but could he do it?

Summer's heart flew into her throat
at the sound of a sharp urgent knock on the cabin door.

"Come," Glasse barked.

It was one of his men. "You
said to tell you if there was any movement out in the 'arbor."

"Well?"

"Boats. Fishermen, by the look
of it, comin' 'round the point."

Glasse consulted the clock. Fishermen? Of course, they
would be returning with the day's catch. "Anything unusual?"

"Not what I can see. Nets 'r full, the crews
ain't too interested in us. Couple came close a while ago, but we chased 'em
away."

Glasse cursed. "Warn them to stay well
clear."

"Aye." The slits that were the man's eyes
turned to Summer, and she felt a chill of recognition, although she was fairly
certain she had never seen him before. He grinned and revealed several missing
front teeth.

"Beavis," Thorny muttered. "Ye ripe
bluddy barstard. No wonder the limey sods knew where ter 'it us."

"Your captain should'a been nicer to his crew,
mate," Beavis sneered. "Should'a shared the spoils equal."

Summer gasped as the voice struck a chord in her
memory. The afternoon in the hold . . . the attempted rape
...
it had been this man.

He saw that Summer recognized him and the leer
broadened. "Remember me now, do you, Governess? I ain't forgettin' neither
that you owe me something. Maybe I'll just get 'round to collectin' it this
time."

"Get back on deck," Glasse ordered.
"And keep your eyes on those fishing boats. If any of them ignore your
warning, open fire."

"Aye." Beavis grinned and blew a kiss at
Summer before he left the cabin.

"An old acquaintance of yours, Mrs.
Winfield?"

Summer's gaze was iced with loathing as she looked at
Glasse. "His presence here appeals to me as much as yours does."

Glasse smiled and replaced the cigar between his
teeth. "In that case, perhaps I should reconsider and allow him the
pleasure of your company until Captain Wade deigns to join us?"

"Ye're jest low enough ter do sum'mit like that,
ain't ye?" Thorny growled, and his hand fell to his hip pocket. The knife
came up, gleaming and deadly, and his arm moved in a blur as he launched
himself squarely at Glasse's chest.

The nurse jumped up from the chair and screamed,
costing both Glasse and the guard a jarring loss of concentration. Mr.
Phillips's reaction was delayed, but only by a split second as he saw the
guard's head turn away from Summer. His leg shot straight up and he propelled
himself off the bench, catching the guard's wrist with his foot and causing the
fingers holding the heavy weapon to flex open. His hand came up in the same
forward motion, driving the thin blade of the filleting knife hilt-deep into
the Englishman's unprotected belly. Phillips jerked it once, then again in a
killing stroke and lurched as the weight of the writhing guard slumped against
him.

Summer had fallen forward to shield Sarah's body with
her own as soon as she had seen Thorny move. The sudden violence of the action
startled the baby into crying, but Summer only pressed closer and squeezed her
eyes tightly shut, wishing she could block out the sounds as well as the sight
of what was happening around her.

Stuart Roarke swam against the clouds of pain and
blackness, hearing the muffled cries from the baby and the choked screams that
came from the foot of the bed. He strained forward and managed to roll up on
his elbow, then to reach down and with a massive effort pull Summer out of the
way.

Glasse's reflexes were swifter than Thorny had
anticipated, and he avoided the driving point of the knife by diving onto the
floor behind the desk. His gun was on the desk top, but it was too far out of
reach. He saw the guard slouched over Phillips and saw that the only chance he
had to redeem the situation was to alert the men outside on the deck.

Thorny pulled his knife out of the leather padding of
the chair and let it fly with a curse when he saw Glasse darting across the
cabin. He was rewarded with a grunt of surprise from Glasse and the sight of
the knife sinking into the man's shoulder as he plunged out into the
companionway. Over the pounding of boot steps, Thorny heard Glasse shouting to
his men. Mr. Phillips shoved the deadweight of the guard to one side, and both
he and Thorny dashed out of the cabin in pursuit.

There was a sound of musketry, but the dreaded blast
and rumble of gunpowder did not immediately follow. Instead, Phillips realized
with a jolt, the muskets were being fired
from
the cargo hatch, not toward
it.

Glasse had realized the same thing and veered toward
the gangway, clutching a bloodied shoulder as he clambered one-handed down the
ladder into the quarterboat moored to the side of the
Chimera.
He screamed for the men
gathering at the entry port to follow him, and when the boat was crowded, he
slashed at the mooring cables and pushed it away from the hull.

Morgan Wade smashed the iron bar
repeatedly against the lock sealing the doorway to the hold. On the third
attempt it gave, and he wrenched the door wide, shouting for his men and leading
a stream of them along the gun deck to the armory. But by the time the crew was
armed and at the deck rail, Glasse's dinghy had threaded its way into the
fishing ketches and firing after him was impossible without risk to the
innocent fishermen.

Wade saw Phillips and ordered the
deck cleared and the anchor raised. He lashed out commands to get the
Chimera
ready to
sail, then ran back along the quarterdeck toward the afterhatch and his cabin.
Thorny was shouting curses over the side of the ship, and when he saw where the
captain was headed, his voice trailed away and he ran after him.

Morgan burst into his cabin and
stood at a dead halt in the doorway, his chest heaving, his eyes wild as he
searched out Summer. She was standing at the side of the bed, the baby cradled
in her arms, her hand holding tightly to Roarke's. There were tears on her
cheeks. Her eyes were round with fear and her mouth slack as she whirled and
faced the door. Morgan held his breath and his hand fell from the doorjamb.

Summer cried out and ran to him,
flinging her arm around his neck, and felt herself and Sarah crushed into his
embrace. She could not speak. She could only sob and say his name in snatches
of breath, and in the end he half carried her as he walked over to the bed.

Roarke's eyes were open, but they
seemed unable to focus on anything. The blanket had fallen back, and the
bandages over his ribs were showing fresh bright red stains.

"Morgan? M-Morgan, is that
you?"

"Stuart. . .
aye, lad,
it's me."

"Thank God," came the dry
whisper. The brown eyes rolled and fluttered a moment before he was able to
turn them and find Summer's face. "I told you
...
I promised you he would come back."

Summer bit down hard on her lip.
"Yes, Stuart, you promised. Now promise me you will he quietly. You
mustn't try to talk now."

"I may not have the chance
later," he smiled weakly. "Morgan?"

"Aye, lad?" He took the
cool, dry hand in his. Wade was shocked to feel how little strength was in it,
how gray the normally lively face was, how dull and flat his eyes were.

"Glasse
...
where?"

"Over the side before I could break the hold
open. He's bound for the
Northgate,
by my guess, but it won't save him. Not now."

"You're going after the
Northgate?
Morgan . . . you know you
can't."

"Why? Because we'll start a war? You're too late,
Roarke. The fighting has already begun, and Decatur himself was in the squadron
that fired the first shots. The message from de Ville—the reason he tried to
stop us—
we're
at war!"

"War?" Roarke whispered, and a spark of life
came into his eyes.

"Aye, Roarke. Congress declared ten days ago.
Commodore John Rodgers was turned loose with his squadron to go after the
Jamaican convoy and ran into a British war sloop instead. The French
merchantman brought the news to de Ville, along with an eyewitness account of
the Americans opening fire on the Union Jack. The mighty British tucked tail
and ran within a few hours."

"War
..."

"I need you now, Stuart. Dammit, you can't die on
me!
I
need you!"

The eyes fluttered open again. "I'll try, Morgan.
I swear, I'll. . . Morgan?"

"Aye, Stuart?" he had to lean closer to
hear.

"If
...
if something happens . . . take care of my Bett for me. Tell her . . . tell her
I loved her and . . . and thank her for me. I never had a chance to thank
her." Roarke swallowed dryly and for the briefest moment his hand
tightened on Morgan's. "I never thanked you, either
...
for being a friend as well as a
brother. I told Summer I was twice lucky . . . three times. . . ."

"Stuart!”
Wade held his breath. He
squeezed Roarke's hand in his, afraid to let go, afraid that if he did so, the
life he held would simply slip away.

Thorny leaned past his captain and touched a hand to
Stuart's pulsebeat. "Ee's dropped off again, Cap'n. It's what ee needs now
. . . sleep."

Wade nodded and tucked Roarke's hand gently down by
his side.

"Work some of your magic for me, old
friend," he whispered to Thorny. "Keep him alive."

"Aye, Cap'n. Ye'll ave me best."

"Morgan?"

He glanced at Summer and saw the reflection of his own
fears in the depths of the gray eyes. He drew her into his arms and held her,
unashamedly taking strength from the trust she had in him. "Are you all
right?"

She nodded. "I am now. Are you honestly going after
the
Northgate?"

Wade's dark eyes flicked to the bed. "Aye. And
when I've finished with her, I'm going hunting for a panther. Gather your
things together quickly now; we haven't much time to get you ashore."

"Ashore?" she gasped and pushed out of his
arms. "You're not sending me ashore!"

"A battle at sea is no place for a woman and
child!"

"But I am
your
woman and Sarah is
your
child. Our place is here with
you." Summer's gray eyes glistened. "You will need me, Morgan. You
will need someone to tend the wounded. From what I know of the
Caledonia,
you will not be able to spare
any able-bodied men from your guns. Send the baby, yes, and the nurse if you
must. . . but no, Morgan, I will not leave you. Not again."

Wade searched her face for some sign of weakness—something
he could use to fight her—but there was nothing.

"I prefer not to leave either,
m'sieu,"
came a soft-spoken yet
determined voice beside them. The young girl who had been brought aboard the
Chimera
to do simple nursing duties
with a baby for one night stood next to Summer and faced the tall, rugged sea
captain unwaveringly. "You will need many hands to take care of the
wounded,
non?"