Surrender the Heart (50 page)

“Pa can do this. He used to be a pirate,” the boy whispered with glee.

Boom!
A shot thundered in the distance, cracking through the nighttime silence and drawing each man’s attention over their larboard quarter. The remnants of a flame drifted away in a tawny haze. The splash came, crisp and foreboding, just yards off their hull. Like all the other shots the sloop had fired that night.

Noah cringed. One more hit to their hull and they’d sink for sure. His crew had done their best to plug the hole with sailcloth, yet some seawater still seeped in through the canvas barrier.

Mr. Weller tugged at the scarf around his neck. “They ain’t givin’ up.”

“So it would seem.” Noah ran a hand over the back of his neck, moist with sweat, though the air was cool. Indeed, it appeared the sloop intended to keep firing their guns all night until they struck their target.

And Noah intended to grant them their wish.

“Mr. Heaton,” he said. “Inform Mr. Pike to bring her hard to starboard on my signal. He glanced aloft but could not make out the men he’d stationed in the yards ready to adjust sail. Good. The moon had not yet made an appearance. He hoped it would sleep a little longer.

“Yes, Captain.” Luke leapt up to the quarterdeck.

His men removed the tackles and handed Noah the other end of the rope attached to Blackthorn. He tied it to the bulwarks, then glanced over the railing. Too dark to see the boat below although he heard it slap against the hull.

“God be with you, Blackthorn,” Noah whispered. He didn’t know if the man heard him or not, but the rope grew taut in his hand, and he slowly released it bit by bit over the side.

Matthew took his place beside Agnes and Daniel. Weller leaned on the railing and peered into the darkness. Several minutes passed. The rope tightened with a
twang
and tugged at the knot tied around the bulwarks.

Blackthorn could go no farther. Silence settled on the ship as every crewman gaped into the black bowl surrounding them. A pinprick of light formed in the darkness. It blossomed into a small circle. A circle that wobbled with each passing wave.

Hurry, Blackthorn
. The rope slackened then tightened again. A distant splash sounded.

Daniel shot Noah an excited glance. Clutching the rope attached to Blackthorn, Noah began pulling it over the railing, handing portions to Matthew and Weller beside him. Together the men groaned in silence as they heaved on the line.

Minutes passed. Noah listened for the sound of splashing.

A flash of yellow off their stern.
Boom!

Resisting the urge to hit the deck, Noah hauled the rope. The muscles in his arms screamed. A splash echoed off the waves, not the one he hoped to hear, but one that, from its distance, told him the sloop had taken the bait.

Yet the light remained.

“Ahoy aloft!” Blackthorn’s muffled voice rose from the sea. “Papa!”

Daniel peered over the side.

The rope slackened and Blackthorn stumbled over the rail, his chest heaving and his body dripping like a fish.

Noah clapped him on the back.

Daniel embraced him. “I knew you could do it.”

Another gun blast thundered. Noah signaled the helm. The ship swerved to starboard, sails snapping in the wind. Noah and his men steadied themselves on the deck as Matthew supported his wife. A spray of white foam spit from their larboard point as the
Fortune
tacked away from the decoy they had planted.

The air went aquiver with the roar of guns. Leaping on the gunwale, Noah grabbed a backstay and stared behind them. The bobbing lantern exploded. Shards of wood and glass shot through the air. Then all went black.

Whispered huzzahs sprang from his crew.

Gesturing for them to be silent, Noah sprang into the ratlines and scrambled above to order his top men to furl sail. The slower the ship sailed, the less noise they would make. A gust of wind tugged at his hair and shirt and flapped his breeches. He’d made it to the lower yard before he noted an absence of fear—at least a fear of falling.

His top crew gathered around him to hear his orders, then went about their tasks. Sliding down the backstay, Noah landed with a thud then stared into the darkness behind him.

Hope caused his breath to quicken. Had they lost their pernicious pursuer in the darkness?

Boom!
A yellow jet spiked upward, smoke curling in its wake.

Seconds crept by as Noah and his crew held their breath and waited for the ominous splash, the location of which would tell them if their ploy had worked.

Instead of a distant splash, the eerie whine of speeding shot followed by the snap and crack of wood filled the air around Noah.

Marianne struggled against Lieutenant Garrick’s grip. Pinned between the bulkhead and his fleshy body, she gulped for air beneath his sweaty hand.

Her attempts at screaming withered into moans.

Terror turned her blood to ice. She kicked him, clawed at him, but to no avail.

Please, Lord
. But even as she said the prayer she knew it would take a miracle to save her. Noah was gone. There was no one on this ship to save her now.

His hands groped over her. He gave a heated groan. Nausea curdled her belly. He fumbled with the hooks on her gown.

“Unhand her at once, Mr. Garrick.” The strength of the commanding voice left no room for argument.

Withdrawing from her lips, Garrick froze, his eyes simmering. A spark of fear skittered across them.

“I said unhand her.”

Garrick took a step back. Marianne’s head grew light, and she leaned against the bulkhead to keep from tumbling to the deck.

Garrick slowly turned to face Lieutenant Reed who stood as prim and proper as ever, a look of abject revulsion on his face.

“This is none of your affair, Reed.” Garrick sneered. “Go back to
your bed and leave us be.”

“The captain ordered you to stay away from Miss Denton, I believe, which makes it every bit my business.”

Marianne’s breath returned to normal as she studied the two men. They stood sizing each other up like lions battling over prey.

Garrick snorted. “And of course you will run and tell the captain like the bootlicking lackey you are.”

Mr. Reed lifted a haughty brow. “Since you are assured of my actions, you must know the outcome does not bode favorable for you.”

“That is where you are wrong, sir.” Garrick gave a pompous snort. “The captain and I have an arrangement.”

“Yes, I know of your arrangement. And it stretches only as far as the captain’s patience. Which as we both know is as fickle as an ocean squall.”

A spark of fear crossed Garrick’s eyes, but he stood his ground.

“And you do know the punishment for ravishing a woman is death, do you not?” Mr. Reed raised his brows.

“Not for me, it won’t be.” Garrick snorted. “Besides, she’s the enemy. No one would fault me for putting her in her place.”

“Enemy or not, you know the captain favors her.” Mr. Reed shrugged. “I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Garrick wiped the spit from his lips and fingered the service sword hanging at his side. “What’s to stop me from killing you and throwing your carcass to the sharks?”

“Perhaps the fact that I won the Royal Naval College swordsmanship competition the year I graduated.” An arrogant smile danced over Mr. Reed’s lips as his hand crept down to the hilt of his sword.

Lieutenant Garrick narrowed his eyes. His breathing grew rapid. “Madness.” Casting Marianne a look of disgust, he shoved past Mr. Reed. At the foot of the ladder, he faced them. “You will regret this. Both of you.”

“I never regret, Mr. Garrick. Good evening to you.” Mr. Reed’s calm voice soothed over Marianne. Grumbling under his breath, Garrick leapt up the ladder and disappeared.

“How can I thank you, Mr. Reed?” She released a heavy sigh and took a step toward him.

“What, pray tell, are you doing down here in the middle of the night?” Anger shot from his hazel eyes. “I cannot help you if you put yourself in such compromising positions. Now, come along and I’ll escort you to your cabin.”

Marianne dropped her gaze to the knife lying on the deck by the barrel. She must retrieve it without Mr. Reed’s notice. She must have that knife or all would be lost. If she didn’t pick it up now, someone would, no doubt, find it tomorrow. She kicked off one of her shoes.

“Forgive me, I behaved foolishly.” She laid a hand over her heart and leaned on the barrel, feigning a loss of breath. She must delay him. “How did you know we were here?”

The harsh look on Mr. Reed’s face faded. “I heard Garrick rise from his bed and leave. Something told me to follow him.” His brow wrinkled. “I am sorry for your distress.”

Marianne gazed up at him. “You are an honorable man for an Englishman.”

“We are not all like Mr. Garrick.” He chuckled then proffered an elbow. “Shall we?”

Marianne pressed a hand to her back and started to rise, then she glanced at her feet. “Oh, my shoe. Please forgive me, Mr. Reed.” She knelt. Fluttering her skirts around her as cover, she grabbed a shoe in one hand and the knife in the other. Slowly, she rose to her feet, tucking the blade within the folds of her skirt while she eased her foot into her shoe. The knife once again became entangled in the fabric. She could feel the tip tugging at the folds. She only prayed it wouldn’t tear her gown. Her heart took up a rapid beat as she smiled at Mr. Reed and placed her other hand on his arm.

The curious look on his face made her blood run cold. “Egad, Miss Denton, what is that in your hand?”

Noah gripped the ledge until his knuckles grew red and gazed out the
stern windows of his cabin. A streak of orange flame lit the horizon. He froze in the dark, awaiting the explosion. The menacing splash grated over his tight nerves. Close. Too close. This British captain was savvy. Not a single lantern or candle was lit on the
Fortune
, and still he seemed to know where they were. The last strike had taken a chunk out of their capstan. Noah feared much worse the next time they came within range.

The savage dash of water against the hull told him the
Fortune
sailed only as swiftly through the dark seas as the rent in her hull allowed. Not an altogether safe thing to do when they couldn’t see two feet off their bow, but Noah had deemed the fate that followed them to be far worse than the risk of striking a reef or another ship.

Confound it all! Noah fisted his hands across his chest and squinted into the darkness. Nothing but black as dark as coal met his gaze. Only the few stars twinkling overhead separated sky from sea. Like Noah, the British commander had extinguished all lights on board his ship. Only the occasional flashes from the sloop’s guns gave away their position. A position that seemed to be forever in Noah’s wake.

If he could not evade this monster by daybreak, all would be lost.

The anxious gazes and fainthearted groans of his crew had forced Noah below where he could steal a moment alone and try to formulate a plan of escape. But after an hour, none had come to mind. None but pleading with God for their salvation. And that plan offered no more hope than any other.