The Pirate's Jewel (36 page)

He stole a glance at Bellamy, who looked peaceful and calm
as he lounged in the shadows of the night. The older man saved his strength. He
would need it.

Nolan fed on his anger, not wanting to sit and calm down.
All he needed was to close his eyes and see the blood staining Jewel’s dress,
and endless, hot strength spewed up within him. He glanced around the men
crowded on the beach. That Jewel was not among the crew saved them both the
emotional turmoil sending her away would surely cause, a distraction he
couldn’t afford. After this was all over, he would find a way to convince her
to still love him. And if he didn’t win, it wouldn’t matter.

Though Parker was barely speaking to him and certainly not
taking his orders, the man agreed to watch out for Jewel during the fight. He
didn’t say it, but it was understood his care would extend beyond that as well
if need be. Not that Nolan still believed a romance budded between them, but
Parker was a good man with three sisters and a mother. He knew what women
needed better than most. Also, though his sexual preferences ranged on the edge
of deviant, Parker was an honest man.

That he was so adamantly against what Nolan was about to
prove might mean he was a better one. Though Nolan believed in the revolution,
would fight for the patriots the best he could, his longing to have another
chance at Bellamy was greater than his commitment to that cause. Not even the
promise of the treasure waiting in his ship could persuade him otherwise.

Nolan had never beaten Bellamy in a fight. True enough,
Nolan had had the crew behind him during the mutiny, and the fact that Bellamy
had been on a month-long bender rendered him easy to overpower. At the moment, Leggett
appeared more sober and alert than Nolan had ever seen him. But neither was
Nolan still a boy. He was a man, with a man’s anger. He had waited years for
this. Fear of death or love for a woman could not stop the inevitable. His
hatred of Bellamy had been building for too long.

Nolan turned at the sound of someone trudging across the
beach. The crewman lumbered under the weight of the large box encasing his
swords. The man fell to his knees when he reached the center of the circle of light.
Nolan strode toward him. The sand’s density, which left the other man panting,
didn’t slow Nolan’s pace. Nothing would. Nolan flipped up the case’s lid. He
lifted one of the heavy swords with the same effort it would normally take to
lift a bamboo reed. He turned toward the nearest torch, letting the jewels in
the hilt come alive and the blade’s steel wink in deadly contrast.

Bellamy remained lounging under a palm tree where the
jungle encroached on the long stretch of beach, his face hidden in the shadows.
Nolan strode forward and, without warning, tossed a sword to him by the hilt.
Bellamy caught it with a minimum of motion. His actions were swift and sure,
like a diver cleaving a still pond without a ripple. Either his relaxed pose
was feigned, or Bellamy’s reflexes hadn’t lost their sharpness over the years.
If anything, they had quickened. Then again, Bellamy didn’t drink near as much
as he used to.

Nolan turned to retrieve his own sword. The first shiver
of fear penetrated the heat of his anger. He wrapped his fingers around the
cool hilt. His determination quelled his fear. He had no choice in this. Never
again would he let Bellamy manipulate him. Nolan’s time had come, and he
planned to prove it to Bellamy—even if he had to kill the man to do so.

Quickly, Nolan composed himself and turned to face Bellamy.
His stance had changed to that of a seasoned warrior. He gingerly tested the
edge of his sword with his fingertip, and then raised his weapon and slashed
through a small tree. The sapling tumbled in two neat pieces on the sand.
Bellamy nodded in satisfaction.

Wayland moved to the center of the light cast by the
torches, signaling to Bellamy and Nolan to step forward. The crew’s unusual
silence added to the confrontation’s seriousness. No yells of encouragement or
heckling penetrated the heavy tension. This was no friendly tussle. This was a
fight to the death, and everyone knew it.

Wayland stood between Bellamy and Nolan. “I want you two
to shed everything but your breeches. I don’t want no extra weapons sneaking
into this. This fight’s going to be a fair one.”

Nolan kept his gaze on Bellamy while he shrugged out of
his shirt. Bellamy glanced at the scar on Nolan’s chest. Nolan stiffened.

Bellamy smirked. “Didn’t learn your lesson the last time
we fought over my girl, did ya, boy?”

Nolan yanked off his boots. His anger made his motions
stiff and the simple task difficult. “She isn’t your girl anymore. She’s my
wife. Nor am I a boy. Your daughter can verify that.”

Apparently, Nolan’s words finally nicked Bellamy’s composure.
His jaw clenched, and he buried the tip of his sword in the sand. He stripped
off his shirt in angry movements that matched Nolan’s. “She’s going to be a widow,
is what she’s going to be.” The handle of a knife stuck from Bellamy’s
breeches. He pulled it from his waistband and dropped it to the ground. “Even
if you win, you’re going to lose, Nolan.”

Barefoot and bare-chested, Nolan picked up his sword and
backed away. He knew Bellamy was right, but the man he thought himself to be,
the man he needed to be, wouldn’t rest until he proved Bellamy couldn’t beat him.
“That won’t stop me from drawing your blood.”

Bellamy retrieved his sword from the sand. He held it in
front of him, as if expecting Nolan to attack at any minute.

“Wait.” Wayland stepped between them. The rest of the crew
kept their distance. Wayland strode toward Bellamy. “Lift your arms.”

Bellamy did as instructed. He lifted the sword above his
head effortlessly. Nolan felt that twinge of fear return. He wouldn’t put it
past Bellamy to have signed a pact with the devil. How else could he have remained
so strong after all these years? And in one piece. Most pirates had been hacked
away like Wayland and Handsome Jack. It was a testament to Bellamy’s strength
and cunning, his looks. Nolan gripped the handle of his sword. The scar on his
chest itched with memories of their last battle.

Wayland circled Bellamy, searching him with his gaze.
Shaking his head, he pulled something from the back of the ex-pirate captain’s
breeches. He tossed the pistol to the ground. Hands on hips, he faced Bellamy.
“You got anything else hidden, or do you want me to go fumbling around your
Jolly Roger?”

Bellamy glanced at Wayland and smirked. “Sorry to disappoint
you, but that’s it.”

Wayland stalked away, grumbling under his breath. Bellamy
called to his back, “Hey. Aren’t you going to search our boy, Nolan?”

“He’s too honest for his own good. That’s why you two are
fighting.” Wayland turned to face them. “Have at it, lads. Kill each other.”

Nolan held his sword in front of him with both hands. His
initial impulse was to rush Bellamy and take the first swing. He denied his
desire, opting for a more strategic attack. He waited for an opening. He forced
all his raw anger back in on itself. He would have his chance.

Bellamy grinned and winked, apparently amused when Nolan
held his ground. It was obvious he had expected a wild, emotional attack as
well. “Learned something, have you, boy?” He started to circle.

Nolan followed Bellamy’s movements, keeping his opponent
in front of him. Ignoring Bellamy’s confident grin, he focused on the man’s
blade. He wouldn’t let Bellamy taunt him. He was no longer an adolescent with more
temper than sense. “Bet Jewel’s glad you’re not rushing ahead of yourself,
anymore. Remember that whore on Tortuga you liked so much? What was her name?”

Bellamy continued to circle wide and Nolan followed, with
tighter, more concentrated steps. He studied every twitch of Bellamy’s taut
muscles. Bellamy’s cajoling bounced off Nolan’s icy concentration. The first
slip or opening, Nolan would be there.

“Rosalinda. Aye, that was her name. She used to come to me
after you had worn yourself out on her. She needed a real man to satisfy her
after your boorish fumbling. We used to laugh about it, we did.”

Nolan smiled. Not because of anything Bellamy said. He
heard the words but didn’t quite process their meaning. Bellamy’s wide circles
were tiring him. The powdery sand could wear a man out quickly. No doubt
Bellamy knew that, but he was waiting for Nolan to lose his temper and attack
with uncontrolled ferocity. And why not? Bellamy’s strategy had always worked
in the past.

Not this time.

“Yep, wonder what my girl thinks about Nolan the Noble in
bed. ’Course, she doesn’t know better. Not to worry. Once I do you in, she’ll
have her pick of young bucks. Probably a different one every night.” Bellamy lunged.

Nolan was ready, his stance solid. When Bellamy’s blow
came, Nolan put all his strength into parrying. He got his blade under
Bellamy’s and used his knees and arms to propel the weapon into the air. He
pulled back his sword and jabbed at Bellamy’s ribs. Bellamy fell back into the
sand before the blade found its mark. He tried to scoot away, but Nolan charged
him. He straddled Bellamy’s prone body and Bellamy abandoned his backward
crawl. With both hands, Nolan brought his sword, straight up, positioning it to
hammer down into the center of Bellamy’s chest.

Bellamy stared up at him with a mixture of shock and terror
in his eyes. Nolan was glad Jewel wasn’t here. It would hurt her deeply to see
her father like this. The thought sobered him like a dunk in icy water.

He froze, with his sword still poised to strike. No matter
what he said, Jewel wouldn’t forgive him for killing her father. He was her
husband. He could physically force her to stay with him, he frantically
reasoned. She had no one else.

He slowly lowered his sword, something stronger than rage
or even rational thought controlling his actions. He loved Jewel too much to
hurt her like this. He let his right hand drop behind him, burying the sword’s
tip in the sand. Still holding on to the hilt, he offered his other hand to
Bellamy.

Bellamy’s gaze veered from Nolan’s lowered sword, and then
back to Nolan himself. His expression hardened and Nolan had the impression
that Bellamy felt cheated. He made no move to take Nolan’s offered hand.
Another realization shook Nolan. After everything Bellamy had put him through,
he couldn’t kill him. Bellamy had taught him with a cruel hand, but he’d made
Nolan the man he was today. Bellamy had fathered the woman he loved. If not for
Bellamy, he would never have found Jewel, and Nolan suddenly knew he could bear
anything but losing her—even Bellamy Leggett.

“Lovely display, but you can drop the sword, Captain
Kenton.” A chorus of muskets being readied followed the vaguely familiar voice.

Nolan swung his gaze to see a red-coated marine flanked by
two dozen soldiers already assembled in firing formation. And to a man, they had
their muskets trained on Nolan and his crew.

***

Jewel threw a rock into the reflection of the moon. In the
surface of the pond, the night sky looked like a huge pearl surrounded by a
thousand diamonds all lying in a bed of black satin. Not much of a hiding place
for a fortune. If she hadn’t found the treasure, either Bellamy or Nolan would
have. Still, she wished she had the extra time. Wished things were the way they
were before. She threw another rock and cursed the rippling pearl and diamonds.
The real treasure had been just as fragile.

It was no treasure at all, but a glittering pile of metal that
brought nothing but heartache to its possessors. Look at Captain Kent. The
first Captain Kent. He’d lost his life because of the treasure. Jewel would lose
her heart and soul.

The treasure started it all, and would end it as well. It
was what had brought Nolan and Bellamy together in the first place, and them to
her. Their first jaunt to the Quail and Queen had nothing to do with her
father’s desire to visit his forgotten daughter, nor had Nolan’s second visit
been a gallant gesture to rescue her from an arranged marriage. And just to
ensure she understood her lowly status in the order of things, the treasure
jealously claimed her suitor. Jewel would be left with nothing but a cold
fistful of metal.

Jewel dragged her finger through the water, disrupting her
first memory of Bellamy and Nolan together. They had fought that night. The
same night she had first seen her father. How had she ever thought she could
change either one of them?

She didn’t have to use her imagination to know what was
happening on the beach. They had played out a similar argument before her very
eyes, long ago. The thought stopped her heart. She choked on a sob as she tried
to draw breath that wouldn’t come. Unbidden, the first fight between her father
and Nolan played out in front of her closed eyes with a clarity she’d been
unable to retrieve until this moment. She saw the blade pierce Nolan, and she
could feel the pain herself.

“No!” Her eyes flew open and she sprang to her feet. Her
father had cheated that time. Nolan hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but her father
had attacked him when his guard was down. She couldn’t let it happen like that
again.

A strong arm wrapped around her midsection the moment she
trod upon the worn trail that led back to the beach. The sudden cession of her
flight pulled her back against her captor, and they both temporarily lost their
balance.

“I can’t let you do that, Jewel.” Parker managed to keep
them both on their feet.

Jewel jabbed an elbow in his ribs—not as hard as she could,
but a subtle yet serious entreaty for him to let her go.

“I have to stop the fight.”

To his credit, he neither grunted nor loosened his hold.
“Nolan doesn’t want you there. Let it go.”

“My father’s going to cheat. Please.” She soon lost her
breath struggling against his unyielding grip. “Please. I have a bad feeling.”