Race to World's End (Rowan and Ella Book 3) (24 page)

“I see.”

“So, can I go up
to my old room and get my stuff?”

“Ella, as I
understand it, Lawrence has all your belongings with him. He…I heard him say he
was going to put them some place safe.”

“You’re talking
about my jewels?”

“Yes, but he also
admitted that he made a terrible mistake and he wishes to return the gems to
you as, if you are sincere in your desire to break the engagement, they, of
course, rightfully belong to you.”

“That would definitely
make life a whole lot easier. When is he coming back?”

“Well,” Adele
said, as the maid Daisy came to stand in the door. “As it happens, my maid is
running an errand for me in town. I’ve arranged to have her take you to where
Lawrence is spending the afternoon—at an attorney’s office, I believe.
He’ll be able to return your things to you there.”

“Okay,” Ella said
slowly. She needed the derringer, too and she was pretty sure Lawrence hadn’t
discovered it under the mattress. But the maid looked like she was in a hurry
and the jewels were more important. If she and Rowan could have even a little
money it would make all the difference in their being able to live comfortably in
Key West until it was time for them to leave. Even better, it meant they could
actually
buy
Rowan’s lighter back
from the pirate captain. The gun wasn’t going anywhere. She’d get it another
time.

She stuck her
hand out. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for me, Adele,” she said. “You
were a big help.”

“Not at all,
Ella,” Adele said, shaking her hand. “I was glad to help.” An undecipherable
look came over Adele’s face. If Ella didn’t know better, she’d say it was a
look of guilt.

“I see you’ve
lost your bonnet,” Adele said, jumping up and going to the coat hook outside
the salon door. “It’s a hot day. I insist you take one of mine.”

“I couldn’t
possibly.”

“I know you don’t
care, but proper ladies don’t go out in public without a hat. Please. Do it for
me.”

Ella shrugged and
took the bonnet. It was the new brown silk one that Adele had bought the day
before. “Sure, Adele. Thanks. It will help against the sun.” She pulled it on
and tied the ribbons under her chin. “Now what’s the address that
Lawrence—”

“Daisy knows it.
Don’t you, Daisy?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Great. Okay,”
Ella said. “See you later, then.”

As they left the
house, it was all Ella could do not to shout with the pleasure of how things
had turned out. She couldn’t wait to tell Rowan that she’d gotten the jewels
back. She glanced at the Cuban maid, but as usual the woman was not inviting
conversation. Her face looked like a grim mask. That suited Ella.

The storm was
definitely building and the humidity in the air was frizzing even the fake hair
extensions in Ella’s coif. When the maid picked up her pace, Ella was happy to
match it. Maybe she could get the jewels and book a room at a hotel before the
rain started.

One thing is for sure, you want to be some place nice and dry
when this one hits. It looks ugly from the ground up.

“Is it by the
wharf then?” Ella asked as Daisy turned down Fleming Street.

“No, Miss. Not that
far. Just at the end of this street.”

As the two
hurried down the boardwalk, Ella could already see some shops had wood nailed
to the glass fronts. No one had any idea what was coming, but clearly it was
better to expect the worst than be surprised.

When they reached
the corner, Ella noticed there were fewer people on the street. She also noticed
that Daisy had stopped walking.

“Which office is
it?” Ella asked. She squinted down the street. She could see the harbor from
here and several boats already rocking in the water as the wind picked up.

When Daisy didn’t
answer, Ella turned to look at her she saw that the woman had dropped her
handbag and was bending over to pick it up.

The next thing
Ella felt was the shock of hard hands grabbing her from behind as a large
burlap sack was yanked over her face. She struggled but her arms were pinned to
her sides, and when she sucked in a full breath to scream, her nostrils, mouth
and lungs were choked with a sweet, cloying odor that made her gag until
darkness claimed her.

23

It was like
something out of a movie.

A very old movie.

Ella opened just
her eyes for fear of bringing attention to herself—or activating what
felt like a nascent but powerful headache rampaging in her skull. She found
herself lying on a narrow bed; the linens smelled male but not unpleasant. If
not exactly clean, they were at least not malodorant. As she looked around the
room, no bigger than a medium-sized walk-in closet from any tract housing
development in Atlanta, she could see she was alone. This particular walk-in
closet, however, was moving.

Her eyes flicked
to the single porthole. She could see only gray sky and black clouds but it was
clear the ship was underway.

Her anxiety
ratcheted up at the thought of once more moving away from Rowan and she sat up
and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her head protested with a loud
throbbing accompanied by a clanging she was sure was audible only to her. She
put a hand to her head and squeezed her eyes shut against the pain.

She’d been
drugged, and in 1825 it was anybody’s guess with what.

“You are alive, I
see.”

Ella snapped her
head in the direction of the voice and gasped. He’d been sitting there all
along, but with his dark clothes had blended in with the dark wood of the
room’s walls. He sat with complete composure, one ankle resting on his knee, a
hand dangling confidently from the armrest of the chair where he lounged. Even
in the gloom of the lightless room, she could detect his certainty and poise.

And why not?
This was his room, his ship. And she was his captive.

He smiled and she
was astonished to discover he had a pleasant face, even handsome. His hair was
jet-black and hung to his collar. He wore a deep burgundy silk headscarf that
accentuated his black eyebrows and the afternoon beard that daily shaves
clearly couldn’t keep up with.

When he smiled,
his teeth were white and straight.

Unusual for this time.

“Who are you?”
she croaked, her hand dropping from her head to her blouse. Someone had
unbuttoned it, but it appeared to be more to make her comfortable than to
explore her person.

“I am Captain Erik
Sully of the
Die Hard
, Miss Morton,”
the pirate said, continuing to grin. “At your service.”

This is Sully? This is the pirate who kidnapped Rowan?
Without meaning to, Ella turned to scan
the furniture in the room.
That meant the
lighter might be here somewhere!
If she could only find it and get away…

“If that’s so,”
she said, forcing herself to look back at the pirate, “then you can let me go
at once and I’ll think about not reporting you to Commodore Porter.”

His eyebrows shot
up as if she had something interesting and she watched him narrow his eyes at
her. His smile never left his lips. “My fullest admiration for Commodore Porter
not withstanding,” he said getting up from his chair, “I’m afraid that’s not possible.
You see, I have a meeting later today with your father and it is rather
important that you be in my custody until it is concluded.”

Ella scooted
across the cot until her back was against the wooden slats of the cabin wall.
“You’d better not do anything you’ll regret,” she said, her heart pounding in
her throat as he loomed over her.

“You mean
something which might get me hanged?” Sully laughed as he sat on the bed next
to her. In one smooth motion he pulled her onto his lap, pinning her arms at
her sides. Ella struggled and twisted her head away. When she did, the
remaining buttons of her bodice popped open exposing her left breast.

“Why, Miss
Morton,” Sully said, licking his lips lasciviously. “All you needed to do was
ask.”

“You bastard!”
Ella cried as he released one hand to take her breast and gently tuck it back
inside her blouse. Shocked by the civil gesture, she wasn’t prepared when he suddenly
leaned over and placed his mouth over hers, his tongue probing past her teeth
but darting away before she could clamp down on it.

When he pulled
back, he looked at her quizzically, his dark eyebrows pushed together to form a
frown as if confused about something.
 

“I
know
you,” he said softly. For the span
of those three words, Ella had an unassailable sense that all guile had dropped
away. It was as if he had uttered the words involuntarily.

“I can’t imagine
how,” she gasped, squirming out of his grasp and pulling her knees up to form a
barrier between them. “I don’t hang out with pond scum as a general rule.”

He continued to
look at her as if confused. His eyes dropped to her breasts, covered now but
clearly defined by her thin blouse. “It’s the way you speak,” he said slowly. His
eyes darted up to capture hers. “You’re a traveler.”

Oh, my God. Rowan was right. Sully is a time traveler too!

“I don’t know
what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to sound scoffing. “I traveled to
get to Key West like everybody else did.”

“Except ‘everybody
else’ doesn’t know it as Key West.” He gave her an unreadable look and stood
up.
 
“Yet.”

Ella said
nothing. She hadn’t meant to reveal so much. She wasn’t sure it was a good
thing for him to know she was also a time traveler. It was clear he thought she
was Adele for purposes of threatening or extorting the judge. What
wasn’t
clear was what he would do when
he found out she
wasn’t
Adele. She
imagined her worth to him would plummet significantly.

“My father won’t
negotiate with you,” she said, bluffing with all her heart.

Sully walked to
the door, obviously intent on leaving, but she could see he was still troubled.
He turned to look at her. “He’s already agreed to it. You’re just the insurance
to make sure he doesn’t change his mind.”

Without another
word, he exited the cabin and she heard a bolt slam down from the outside. She
hopped off the bed and ran to the porthole. Outside was nothing but water as
far as she could see. She couldn’t tell if it was the Gulf side or the Atlantic,
but one thing was certain…Key West was nowhere in sight. The rain had started
and the wind had picked up too. She watched the large ominous clouds as they
blew across the sky. A storm was coming. A bad one, by the looks of it.

She returned to
the cot and tried to take stock. Who knew she was missing? Adele’s maid did,
but there was every reason to believe
she
was in on the kidnapping. Rowan will have figured out by now that she hadn’t
returned to the pub room. But will he know where to go to look for her? Now she
wished she’d told him about Lawrence and the Mortons. Without that piece of the
puzzle, he’ll have no way of knowing when or where she disappeared. Will he
even think to come to the ship? Why would he?

She gnawed on a
ragged cuticle and listened to the sounds of the sailors—pirates, she
supposed—going about the business of sailing the ship. Her eyes glanced
around the room. Then she went to the small built-in desk and yanked open the
single drawer.

There, nestled among
a handful of gold doubloons, snuffboxes and gambling dice was Rowan’s lighter.

Ella snatched it
up and felt a rush of joy.
Step one,
Rowan! We’ve got your ticket out of here and that’s one step closer than we
were.

She turned the
lighter to reread the inscription she had engraved on it three years ago and
felt her euphoria drain away.
One step
closer if you don’t count the fact I’m a prisoner on a pirate ship heading to
God knows where.

Ella pocketed the
lighter. When she thought of the arrogance, the self-absorbed
conceit
that made someone think they
could take valuables from another person, it made her want to take a musket to
the captain.

Ella sat back
down on the bed and fingered the smooth, heavy shape of Rowan’s lighter in her pocket.
Who in the world was this Captain Sully?
If Rowan was right, he wasn’t from this time—even though he fit in
perfectly. Was he evil, as Rowan said?
 

But he could have
attacked her just now and didn’t. And what was all that about helping her cover
herself? What sense did that make? He was almost…nice.

Why didn’t he
take advantage of the situation? He clearly looked if not about to rape her to
at least strongly seduce her—but in the end he didn’t.

Why not?

Once he concludes
his business with the judge will he her let go?

Ella drew in a
long breath. Clearly, she was trapped in this room with no chance of escape
until someone came for her. Might as well stay calm and try to come up with a
plan of some kind.

God knows what
the next several hours might hold for her.

As she leaned
back into the rough pillow on the bed, her eyes fell on the spine of a leather
book standing by itself on Sully’s desk. At first when she saw it, the
glittering gold of the graphic as it danced vertically down the narrow cover,
she didn’t recognize what she was seeing. Suddenly, she bolted from the bed and
grabbed up the book.

On the cover was
the distinct insignia of two hearts joined with the large letter V intersecting
them. Her hands began to shake. It was the unique marking that she had seen all
her life on the tiny gold locket that she wore around her neck even at this
moment.

***

Rowan held the hard,
twisting lines of the tackle in his hands and looked out over the rail lines of
the
Die Hard
. When they lifted anchor
a few hours ago he was surprised, but he could hardly jump ship now. He hated
making Ella worry but it couldn’t be helped. This was his one chance to get
that damn lighter back.

They were only
going as far as the Dry Tortugas, he reasoned. Toad assured the crew they’d be
back whoring and drinking in
Cayo Hueso
within twenty-four hours.

As for the
quartermaster himself, he had been shocked and not necessarily pleased to see
Rowan again. But he’d taken him on. Whether for the exceptional strength that
Rowan’s size brought to the crew or the prospect of future opportunities to
maim and humiliate him was, at this point, unknowable.

Rowan shifted the
pistol wedged in his belt. The rest of the crew didn’t work armed. All weapons
were stored in a single place, to be snatched up at the ready when called for.
Ansel had already raised an eyebrow at the sight of Rowan’s gun. Rowan was
surprised at how well the man read him—and he, him. He had shaken his
head in response.
No he wasn’t going to
kill Sully.

Not yet anyway.

As Rowan tossed
the handful of ropes and pulleys back onto the shelf, he saw Sully exit his
cabin and drop the exterior bolt to lock it from the outside.

So someone is inside
.
An unwillingly guest
obviously, but special enough not to merit the comforts of the below decks
brig. A woman, maybe?

Sully was not
only leaving his cabin—he was clearly intending on leaving the ship, too,
once they dropped anchor in the Dry Tortugas.

Very curious.

But all that
mattered to Rowan was that Sully would be out of his cabin, giving Rowan the
chance to search it. This time, he thought, touching the grip of his pistol, if
Toad interrupted him there would be a different outcome to the encounter.

Sully stopped in
front of Rowan and frowned. He swiveled slowly on his boot heel as if to glance
back at his cabin and then again at Rowan.

 
“You signed on?” he said. “I thought you
were indignant about being
kidnapped
.”

“Decided to let
bygones,” Rowan said, pulling his hat down over his face to protect it from the
rain that began to pelt him. The rain, mixed with sleet, peppered his face like
tiny shards of flying glass.

“It’s a day for
interesting events,” Sully said cryptically. “By the by, Mr. Toad has
instructions to shoot anyone who tries to enter my cabin while I’m gone.”

Rowan said
nothing and Sully turned and walked up to the quarterdeck to speak with the
pilot.

Looking up at the
masts, Rowan noticed they’d already taken down all sails but one. If Sully
really was thinking of going ashore, he’d better hurry. This didn’t look to be
an ordinary storm and there was little to no shelter on the island.

Maybe with any luck the bastard would get washed out to sea.

As Rowan turned
back to his work, he noticed the cabin boy, Kip, was standing outside the
captain’s cabin now, a musket in his hands. The boy’s eyes were focused skyward
and his face was white with concern.

Rowan shrugged.
He didn’t intend to hurt the boy when the time came.

But he
did
intend to get inside that cabin,
whatever it took.