The Pirate Bride (20 page)

The feel of his hands on her flesh, the fevered pressure of his fingers, even the hasty, hurried, fumbling with their clothing, those were all things she couldn’t die without experiencing again. His mouth fastened to her breast, his tongue bathing her torso. His hand slid between her thighs, and the pressure of his body forced them apart. He moved against her, making love intimately, so feverishly that she didn’t feel the hardness of the earth but writhed in response to the liquid fire of his tongue, then arched into his thrust, urgently needing the madness, the frenzy, of both the sex and the sensuality between them. She fought to keep silent, to keep her cries from giving away their presence, but he kept them both silent with the power of his lips and the fury of their coupling. When it was over, they lay as they were, not far from the cavern opening, with the air growing cool around them, and the sanity and the pressure of the night and the reality of imminent death returning as if on the wings of eagles. But finally he stood and moved away, awkwardly straightening his clothing.

She caught his arm. “I need to put on breeches,” she said simply, knowing she could never fight effectively in a dress. She rose and walked away from him, deeper into the cave where their store of clothes lay. Tears stung her eyes, tears she could never allow him to see. She thought their idyll should have ended far more sweetly. There should have been a bed of fragrant grass. There should have been time. They should have had long moments of lying tangled together, drifting in the pleasure of what had been. There should have been whispers, gentle touches…

But there had been none of that, and there never would be.

She hurriedly found a man’s light shirt. But finding no clean breeches that would fit her, she figured she had to make do with what she wore, and thought she could cut a slit up the side if the skirt’s fabric got in her way. She found a second knife and belted it around her other ankle. She would have only her knives and a sword, nothing more, though she was certain Logan planned to take guns off the crew when they boarded. They would have to do so carefully and stealthily, taking the remaining men off guard. It was a good plan.

They could prevail….

Or they could fail.

So many things could go wrong….

But it didn’t matter. It was the best plan they’d been able to come up with. It had to work.

She slipped silently back to the front of the cave. It was time.

Logan was there, his shoulders broad and stiff as he stared out into the night.

“Logan,” she said softly.

He turned. She saw the anguish in his eyes and realized that he, too, knew they could far too easily fail.

“Stay. I beg you,” he said softly.

Without a word, she hurried past him, straight out into the night, moving quickly.

There was no turning back.

C
ASSANDRA CAME
awake suddenly, startled but unsure why.

“Cassandra?”

It was barely a whisper, scarcely louder than the breeze, but someone had spoken her name.

She looked around as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and saw a face.

Her breath caught.

Logan!

He brought a finger to his lips.

He slipped closer to kneel beside her, and it was all she could do not to touch him.

“Am I dreaming?” she whispered.

“No, but I must speak quickly. You must stay here for now. I’m so sorry. We’re taking his ship tonight…. But we’ll be back for you and your father.”

She felt like crying, but she forced herself to smile and then nodded to show she understood.

She could do anything now. Somehow, miraculously, Logan was there, and that meant there was hope.

“You must wake your father and tell him of our plan,” he said.

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

Then, just as silently as he had come, he was gone.

R
ED KNEW SHE HAD TO
take great care creating the leaks. She couldn’t make an obvious hole, which would be seen if someone decided to check on the boats in the night. She crouched flush with the side of the second tender, looking up frequently to make sure no member of the crew had moved. She was somewhat surprised that Blair Colm had not set out a guard, but perhaps, having searched the horizon for ships and seen none, he had decided himself safe for the night.

She was so attuned to the night that she wasn’t taken by surprise when Logan came up to her. Hunching down, he whispered quickly, “It is time. Are you ready?”

She nodded, then saw him crouch low and push the third tender toward the water. In seconds he had disappeared into the darkness. She was about to wade out to join him when she realized she had dropped the knife. She hurried back for it—and was startled by a sudden commotion from the shelter.

Suddenly Cassandra burst out into the firelight, a man behind her, clutching his groin. Colm’s crew were mumbling and starting to rise.

Torches were lit, and suddenly the whole area was aglow.

“What’s going on?” Blair Colm raged.

Every one of them was awake now. Even Lord Bethany came stumbling from the shelter, crying out, “Cassandra! For the love of God, Cassandra!”

“Stop!” Blair Colm shouted.

Everyone froze, as if in a tableau, and Red knew she could make it to the tender, but something gave her pause.

Cassandra.

Red hid in the dark shadow of the tender and watched the drama unfold.

“You gave me your word!” Cassandra accused Blair Colm. “I was to sleep in peace. But instead this sack of pus came after me,”

“She stabbed me with my own knife and wounded me privates!” The man Red recognized as Billy Bones was the fellow who complained.

“I’ll kill you!” Lord Bethany cried out, rushing forward with a poor weapon, a tree branch.

“Shoot him,” Blair Colm snapped out, pointing at Bethany. “And do with her what you will.”

She could have made it to the ship. Red knew it.

But instead she inhaled deeply as one of the pirates drunkenly reached for his pistol.

She stood from her position behind the boat and threw her knife as hard as she could at Blair Colm. The distance was too great; her chances of hitting him were one in a million, and she had never been lucky, she thought sadly. But the blade buried itself in a palm tree right behind him, which was enough to arrest his attention.

The sharp impact of the blade into the wood startled everyone.

She thought about running, but she would only be caught, and hurt. And she couldn’t guarantee she would keep the attention of all the men away from Cassandra and her father.

So instead she prayed that Logan was even now crafting a plan to save them all and walked slowly into the light of the torches, knowing she had drawn every eye.

N
O ONE COULD HAVE
appeared more surprised than Cassandra, though neither she nor her father seemed to have any idea of who they were looking at.

But Blair Colm did.

“By God! It’s a ghost!” he said. He stared at her incredulously as she walked up to him. “The little Irish whelp I sold to Lady Fotherington. I had heard you died…hearsay, of course. Obviously. You should have died, wretched girl. I’d had my finger in what should have been your happy marriage, but…you…”

Everyone else was drunkenly silent, weaving, confused, watching.

“Where in hell did you come from?” he demanded.

She shrugged. “I’ve been living on this island for some time.”

He frowned. “With corpses for company?”

“That poor couple…. I tried to help them, but I could not, and they died.”

“Who is she?” someone whispered.

“An old friend,” Blair Colm replied, staring at her, smiling slowly. A grim, vicious smile.

“An old enemy,” she corrected. “I just tried to kill you.”

“You missed. Pity for you.”

“I won’t miss next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

For a minute she was afraid her sacrifice would be in vain. That he would simply shoot all of them.

But as he stared at her, she realized that he was seeing her as a woman—an attractive woman—and she could use that to her advantage.

Thank God he did not know she was Red Robert.

“You!” Blair said suddenly, spinning on Cassandra and her father. “Get back inside now,” he growled.

“And you!” He turned to Billy Bones. “You disobeyed a direct command. You’re the one I should be shooting.”

“But you just said—”

“Speak again and I’ll be deciding between the cat-o’-nine-tails and death,” Blair told him. “The rest of you, go back to sleep. Except you, Nathan. You’re on guard through the night. Through the entire night, do you understand? And sober up, you sots! Come the morning, we’ll take the prisoners back on board ship. There will be no more of this.”

“You must not hurt her,” Cassandra began, but Colm cut her off.

“I can still shoot you both,” he said, not glancing her way. “Get out of sight—now.”

Lord Bethany reached for his daughter. He was shaking, looking old and frail beyond his years. Cassandra was obviously torn, but finally she grasped her father’s outstretched arm and retreated.

And Red was left staring at Blair Colm, seeing the man who had destroyed her life so many years ago. Seeing blood.

Oh, yes, her vision was clouded with red.

His crew surrounded them.

There was another knife, sheathed at her other ankle. She could draw it and kill the man now where he stood.

But if she did…

If she did, the crew would not only kill her, they would certainly kill Lord Bethany and rape Cassandra, and probably kill her in the process.

So she just stood there as Blair Colm reached out to her, then bent in the mockery of a bow.

“Do come closer, child. We have a lot to talk about.”

She stood her ground.

“Shall I have you dragged?” he inquired pleasantly.

And so she walked over to him. The man she despised more than the devil himself.

T
HE MINUTE HE HEARD
the shouting, Logan turned and looked toward shore.

In a heartbeat, he took in everything that was happening and realized he was going to have to come up with a new plan to save Red, as well as Cassandra and her father, or die trying.

As he watched, he saw Red throw the knife, then stride up the sand to face the man she despised. He saw Cassandra take her father’s arm and move toward the shelter. He saw the pirates, standing around almost stupidly, and he saw Red start to walk toward Blair Colm.

He swiftly pushed the boat back up on shore, then crouched beside it as he tried desperately to figure out what to do.

Red stopped in front of Blair, and then the bastard’s arm shot out, and he hit her so hard that she fell down on her knees.

Everything in Logan quickened.

His heart was pounding, his muscles tensing, as he fought to keep himself from screaming in protest and racing toward certain death in a vain attempt to rescue her.

He watched with dread, telling himself that she was clever and could hold her own. He was glad that the dark wig she’d worn as Red Robert was at the bottom of the sea somewhere. There was no way Blair Colm could know she was his nemesis, the pirate everyone who sailed the Caribbean knew sought his death. She would think of something. She would be safe as Cassandra was safe. Colm would humiliate her, punish her, but not really harm her, because she was valuable. A beautiful young woman with such unusual red hair would be a valuable commodity in the whorehouses of the pirate ports—but only if both her body and her mind were whole.

He saw her rise and prayed she would not strike back.

She did not. Maybe she had learned that retreat could be the finest measure of courage; maybe he had even influenced her reckless desperation for vengeance.

As he watched, Blair Colm angrily threw out his arms, apparently ordering the others back to their drunken slumbers.

But he didn’t touch Red again. He kept his distance. They spoke, and then, with regal dignity, Red headed for the shelter.

The men who had moved off seemed to be looking to their leader once again. Colm walked among them in a rage, then sat down against a palm, his sword out, his hand upon the hilt.

Then one man disengaged himself from the group and began walking toward the tenders, so Logan hurried back into the water and swam silently out of sight.

The ship, he thought. He had to get aboard the ship and take her. That would be the only hope for any of them.

I
N ONE RESPECT
, Red thought, she had certainly succeeded in her longtime plan. Blair Colm had been stunned that she was alive, not to mention that she was on the island. Stunned that
anyone
was on the island. She was certain he would question her with skill and rapacity, come the morning. But at least he hadn’t trusted himself to deal with her that night and sent her away.

Which didn’t mean she was safe.

Safe? Oh, God. He was truly the devil incarnate. And she was not safe, not so long as he still breathed upon this earth.

They hadn’t spoken long, but she would never forget his words.

“They say that all babes should be killed. And most oft I do. For babes grow to be men and women with an unseemly lust to right the wrongs they think were done them. I see it in your eyes, girl. I see the hatred. I see your hunger to kill me. I should have killed you, as lucrative as you proved to be. And I still may. But there’s something in me…that finds the hatred you bear me almost…delicious. What would hurt you more than anything in the world? Just my touch, perhaps. Hmm. I’ll think on that tonight. You’ll never know, will you, what to expect while you’re in my power? One minute, I let you live. The next, perhaps the cat. And the next…who knows? Maybe you’re not worth selling again and I should just use you ’til I tire of you, then pass you to my men. You are an intriguing catch.”

“Maybe you should kill me now,” she had suggested.

“No need. Not yet. I decide, for I’m in power.”

“Now.”

“I’ll always be in power.”

And then he had smiled, and looked at her with such amusement and cruelty that it had made her skin crawl. He would never take her because he wanted her. He never gave in to mercy, thirst, hunger, exhaustion…or even his own lust—unless it suited his purpose. He would only touch her if he thought she would find it the worst form of torture imaginable.

“I believe I’ll sleep on it, my dear. And I’ll let you sleep on it, as well. Or maybe I’ll drag you out in the middle of the night…if I get bored.”

“You can’t really touch me. It won’t matter.”

“Oh, yes, trust me. I can. And it
will
matter.”

She’d forced a shrug. She didn’t want him to know that watching him murder others would be a far worse agony than anything he could do to her directly.

He smiled, then looked at Billy Bones. “Search our dear friend for other weapons.”

Red had tried to maintain a stoic expression as fear set in. He would find her second knife, and she would be left defenseless.

Billy Bones, with a lascivious grin on his face, had come forward and ordered her to lift her arms. Then he’d patted her down slowly, her breasts, her stomach. He’d let his hands linger, grinning all the while. She had remained rigid, staring straight ahead. When he had allowed his hands to ride her thighs, she snapped out, not at him, but to Blair Colm, “As you can see, I’m hiding nothing,” and stepped back.

And Billy, Bones, the rodent, had nodded with amusement, looking to Blair. “She’s clean—but I’d be happy to keep checking.”

“Calm yourself for now, Billy,” Blair told him. “Maybe later…”

It had been a threat, but she hadn’t cared. She’d been so afraid she would tremble and fall with relief at having kept her knife.

“Go inside,” Blair had told her. “If you would have any reprieve.”

She was smart enough to take whatever reprieve was offered.

Blair Colm had always had patience. She knew many of his political prisoners had thought themselves protected, thought he was handling them with decency, only to have him discover the one piece of information he’d wanted from them, then strike them down in cold blood in an instant.

For now, she had to control the fury within her, the urgency, the near madness. She had done what she’d had to do. In the split second in which she had made her choice, she had chosen well, for the man had lost his urge to shoot Lord Bethany, and Cassandra was not at the mercy of the crewmen.

In fact, the beautiful Cassandra and her esteemed father were on their knees, huddled together, when she entered their realm. The tight confines of the shelter didn’t exactly offer privacy, for their voices would carry easily out to the crew, though some were so drunk that they had fallen back into their slumbers. But those who remained awake were now on guard as they had not been before the chaos.

Very little light filtered into the shelter, but there was enough so that after a moment Red could see the faces of Lord Bethany and his daughter. They were staring at her, still as stunned now when she had first made her appearance.

“I don’t know who you are,” Lord Bethany said, whispering, “but you saved my daughter from God knows what horror, and you saved my life. We are eternally in your debt.”

“Truly we are,” Cassandra said gravely, staring at her wide-eyed.

“We are not yet safe,” Red told them.

“And you
know
this wretched man?” Lord Bethany asked.

Red inhaled. “A long story, and not for tonight.”

“You were with Logan,” Cassandra said, staring at her. “He said ‘we.’”

“By God…” Lord Bethany said, his voice trailing off as he turned to his daughter. “Then…you were not dreaming. He is out there.”

Red nodded.

“So…he has escaped? To take the ship?” Cassandra asked.

“So I pray,” Red replied. “Though how he is to do that alone…”

She realized that Cassandra was looking at her strangely.

What was going on in her mind? Red wondered. Did she sense that the man she loved, the man she had risked life and limb to rescue, had betrayed her?

She didn’t know the woman, Red thought. She owed her nothing.

But from what Red had seen—and though her heart and soul balked furiously against it—she admired Cassandra, Lady Bethany. She had acted with courage, fighting the filthy wretch who had attacked her. She would have fought for Red, if it had not been for her father. Even now, she was not cowed but looked expectantly at Red.

“You’re Irish,” Lord Bethany said suddenly.

Red frowned, certain she had long ago lost the accent.

But he was studying her gravely. “Ah, poor lass, I know your story now. He seized you from your parents and sold you in the colonies as an indentured servant.”

She nodded. “But that is not all. Blair Colm makes his income not only by raiding the seas beneath the British flag and seeing there are no survivors. He has contacts in the highest levels of society, and he arranges the sale of women to wealthy, even titled, men in search of mistresses. I’ve heard he also makes great sums trading women in the Middle East, where the novelty of a light-haired or fair-skinned woman is an asset.”

“The man is despicable,” Lord Bethany breathed.

“But you escaped him,” Cassandra noted.

“An accident at sea,” Red explained.

Cassandra was still studying her intently.

“It’s a long story,” Red said again, since something more seemed to be called for.

“You were a prisoner of the pirates, too?” Cassandra asked.

“I was taken aboard their ship, yes.”

“Poor dear. What a wretched time you’ve had of it,” Cassandra said.

How ridiculous, Red thought. Nothing might matter to any of them in a matter of hours, yet she felt a gnawing of guilt in her soul.

“Please believe me, I learned to weather hardship very well,” she said.

Cassandra nodded gravely. “It seems that at least some pirates indeed practice a code of ethics.”

“Far better than at least one man decorated by the crown,” her father added angrily.

Cassandra wasn’t to be deterred. “Red Robert…we received the reply to our offer of ransom saying that none was needed, and that Lord Haggerty would be left at a safe port. You were treated as decently?”

“I was treated quite well,” Red replied, wishing she could fight the temptation to look away. “And I believe we have much to live for, so we need to be very careful. I have every reason to believe that the ship sailed by Red Robert will come looking for us here. Soon, I fervently hope. Those on board will be searching for Lord Haggerty and myself for…for many reasons. Unfortunately, I’m equally certain that Blair Colm will return to his ship in the morning, though he will have to make more trips than he expects, and I also believe he will find a smaller crew aboard.”

“How many of the boats did you fix to sink?” Lord Bethany asked.

“Just two. We had intended to use the third.”

“He will know that you scuttled his boats,” Cassandra pointed out.

“He already knows how much I hate him.”

“He will hurt you,” Cassandra whispered. Her concern was far more difficult to accept than Red had expected.

“What of this pirate seeking you?” Lord Bethany asked.

“If the ship comes…well, those pirates will not be against us.”

Lord Bethany said, “We don’t even know your name, child.”

He spoke so gently, and it was far more painful than any blow Blair Colm could have struck her. Such a good man, with the tenderness of a father, extended now to her.

Why couldn’t she at the very least dislike Cassandra? She had a wonderful father, and she had genuine strength, though she had no doubt been cosseted her whole life.

And Logan cared for her very deeply—more deeply, perhaps, than he even knew himself.

“My name is Roberta. Bobbie,” she said.

Lord Bethany gripped her hand. “Lass, if by the grace of God we should survive this, I swear that I will spend my days seeing to your welfare.”

The passionate tenderness and true gratitude in his voice hurt almost unbearably.

“Well,” she whispered briskly, “first we must survive this. It’s imperative that we be ready to assist Logan, come the morning. We must get some rest.”

“Two at a time,” Cassandra said. “I was resting when that vile pretense of a man made his way in here and…”

Lord Bethany groaned.

“I am fine, Father,” Cassandra said quickly.

“I had some rest this afternoon,” Red told them. She refrained from explaining that Logan had knocked her flat to keep her from walking into danger. “I will keep what watch a prisoner can.” She hesitated. “I believe we’re being watched too closely right now, but in case there is a chance at some point…there is something you must know. There is a cave behind a spring, which can be reached by walking straight inland. And there are fissures in the rear, not really entrances, but small enough to slip through. If there’s ever an opportunity…you may have to run fast. You won’t easily see the entrance, because it’s shrouded with growth. But it’s there, around the spring, to the east.”

“If we escape, you will be with us,” Lord Bethany said.

“I dearly hope so, but you must know where we are running, should we have an opportunity to run. Logan has a plan, however, so we will only go against it if it appears that we must,” Red told him.

Lord Bethany nodded.

“Logan will know what he is doing,” Cassandra said.

Logan is desperate, Red thought, and his options are few. We’re all desperate.

But she smiled with encouragement.

Lord Bethany nodded and sat, leaning back against a palm. Cassandra sat at his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

Once more, Red couldn’t help but feel a pang.

Once upon a time, I had a father who loved me, too, she thought. He was a noble man. He died trying to save my mother and myself, and the others in the village.

Cassandra did not rest long, though. She waited only long enough for her father’s breathing to deepen as he slept, then moved toward Red. “I fear for him so greatly,” she whispered.