The Pirate's Debt (The Regent's Revenge Book 2) (13 page)

“We’ve spotted the
Windraker
.” Markwick hoped his voice masked the unfavorable status of Walsingham’s situation. He didn’t want to scare Chloe. Not yet.

His men began to chatter.

Jenkins scratched his head. “Is she after us again, Cap’n?”

Chloe’s stare flickered between them.

“Aye. But she isn’t alone.” He let everyone digest this news, particularly Chloe, before continuing. “The
Viper
has her in its sights.”

“The
Viper
?” Chloe’s mouth formed an
O
. She grabbed Jane’s arm, borrowing her for support as the men began arguing and talking all at once. “Is my brother in danger?”

“I believe so.” Markwick couldn’t lie to Chloe, not after the intimacy they’d shared. Not when he knew her brother meant so much to her. Not when her brother was also his friend.

“Then we must help him,” she said, stepping forward and thrusting her chin out nobly. “I’ll do anything to save my brother and his men.”

“Anything?” He tore his gaze away from Chloe’s entrancing eyes and stared at his men. “Every available hand is needed. Report to your stations immediately if we are to have any hope of preventing the
Windraker
from ending up like the
Mohegan
.”

The men angled a stiff salute, weaving past Chloe, Jane, and Markwick, as the boatswains blew their whistles, directing every abled seaman to his post.

“What can Jane and I do?” Chloe asked, reaching out to touch him, increasing the pressure on his forearm.

What could she do? He could tell her to fall in line with his men and mimic their actions, but that would only put her at risk, not to mention her brother’s ship, and cause a distraction they could ill afford. He couldn’t lead his men into danger when Chloe ruled his thoughts. “Come topside with me.” He would lure her there and then get her on board the cutter, come what may.

“Yes!” Her response was instantaneous. “Of course. I shall do whatever you say.”

He smiled, content that she was so easily managed, and shifted their conversation to keep her preoccupied. “What were you doing down here?”

“Besides reading?” She hugged her book close to her chest and narrowed her gaze in frustration. “Providing your men entertainment.”

“My men are fully capable of entertaining themselves, I assure you.”

“That may be . . .” Her lips tightened into a thin line, making him wonder how they’d fit around . . . “Do you realize that most of them cannot read?”

“Nor write,” Jane added.

“Men who choose the sea are not typically a scholarly lot. They may not be able to read, but what they can do, they do well. Pirating entails men who are strong enough, brave enough, and hardened enough to weather any kind of trial.”

“Like the one before me now?” Chloe asked blankly, the irony rolling off her in waves.

Where had her enthusiasm gone? He’d just told Chloe her brother was in trouble. Why the mockery? Had the
Mohegan’s
destruction exhausted her emotions? Was the brave front a ploy to prevent him from locking her up in his cabin? It didn’t matter. He’d already lost more than any man should, and he’d be damned if he lost Chloe, too.

“Yes,” he said, agreeing easily. “Though I still have much to learn.”

Especially when it comes to you.

Aye. He would weather any kind of trial if the reward was a life with Chloe. But he’d be smuggling and fighting Walsingham until the end of his days in order to rake in that kind of cache. First, he needed to save Walsingham’s life.

“How do you expect to help the Captain?” Chloe asked.

He blinked as pressure tightened about his lungs.
Could
Markwick help him would be the better question. “Offering extra incentive for the
Viper
to disengage.”

“And what will you do if the Captain suspects you are in league with that dreadful Captain Carnage? Would you attack my brother’s ship if he fires on the
Fury
?”

“I will do whatever I’m called to do, but that event will be unlikely as the
Viper
is firing on your brother’s ship as we speak.”

Chloe’s jaw slackened. She paled, and for the first time since he’d announced the
Windraker’s
imminent destruction, her defenses seemed to fully crumble.

She gripped his arm tighter than he believed possible for a woman. “We must help him! Promise me you will do everything you can.”

His jaw tightened as he tried to harness his disappointment. “Do you doubt me?”

Chloe turned to place her book in Jane’s hands and motioned for her maid to hurry to the companionway ladder and wait for her.

When Jane was out of hearing distance, Chloe leaned toward him, splaying her fingers over his chest. At first contact, his heart hung suspended, racing beneath her touch. He searched her face, wanting to kiss her one last time before hell rained down on them, devouring everything about her, putting to memory her fragrant lemony, lavender scent; her fascinating, dilated eyes; her flawless, creamy skin; her tremulous touch; and her measured breaths as he waited to hear her reply.

“Of course I believe in you, Markwick. But do you believe in yourself?” Her rosy bow of a mouth curved into an irresistible smile, deepening the dimple in her cheek.

Her dewy lips tempted him with an appetizing sweetness he hungered to taste. Eager to close the distance between them, he leaned toward her, hesitant, a hairsbreadth away, feeling a charge of energy ignite between them.

“I wish . . .” He lowered his forehead to lean it against hers. “You must ready yourself.”

“For combat?”

If only she knew . . .

Footsteps padded nearby, getting louder and louder. Markwick glanced up, putting distance between himself and Chloe as Owens came to a stop before them. “She’s ready, sir.”

“Thank you, Owens. I expect my orders to be fulfilled to the letter.”

“Aye, sir. I owe you my life, and it will be my honor to ensure nothing happens to her.”

“Who? The
Fury
?” Chloe’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You will see.” Markwick took her by the elbow, guiding her through the gundeck, past men opening hatches and rolling back guns on their runs to prime them.

“’Bliged, m’lady. We’ll be wantin’ more of
Otranto
when this is over,” Tindle said, tipping his hat.

Chloe attempted to approach Tindle, words perched on her tongue, but Markwick yanked her back. “There’s no time.”

“Of course,” she said, widening her steps to keep up with his strides.

He pulled her forward, nodding to Jane, who stood hugging her arms about Chloe’s book, as they neared the companionway ladder and moved toward the screened rooms astern.

“You’ll both need coats.” He turned to Jane. “You’ll find your pelisses in my cabin.”

“Yes, sir.” Jane handed Chloe her beloved book and disappeared into Markwick’s cabin.

“Chloe, there is something you must know—”

“Here we are,” Jane said, returning with a green pelisse in one hand and a cobalt one in the other.

Markwick took the green garment from the maid and helped Chloe place her arms inside the well-constructed sleeves. When she turned back toward him, he latched the clasps, one by one, then grabbed her by the shoulders. “Whatever you do, do not call me by name.”

“Of course. Your secret is safely tucked away in my virtuous breast. I will always protect you. Surely you must know that by now.”

Chloe’s quick wit made him want to forget the calamity unraveling aboard his ship. Almost. By his estimations, the
Fury
had tacked and would—as soon as he offloaded his charges and gave the order—make way to the
Windraker’s
defense.

His mind raging, he gathered Chloe and Jane to his side. “Are you ready to face what’s happening topside?”

Chloe nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, my lord—”

“Captain,” he corrected as he led them to the companionway.

Several men, returning from the magazine, appeared hauling cutlass and musket chests to the ladder leading to the deck above. A few broke off to transport leather buckets and gun tools for the carronades stationed on the quarterdeck.

“My, I never realized how much activity begets a naval battle,” Chloe said, eyes wide. “It is such a rousing jolt to my blood.”

“Nothing a woman should ever be forced to witness,” he offered, leading his charges up the ladder. “I assure you.”

A brisk wind, clapping, thundering sail overhead, steady sea noise, and sand crunching underfoot welcomed them as they stepped onto the deck and into a whirlwind of activity.

Pye shouted orders. Gunners hollered to yeomen hauling buckets, canisters, and cartridges from the magazine, priming the breeched twelve-pounder carronades stationed on the quarterdeck. Firearm chests had been positioned near the mainmast where boarding hooks were stored, giving men access to cutlasses, muskets, and sea service flintlock pistols for hand-to-hand combat. Topmen were perched on ratlines overhead and passed muskets to snipers in preparation for a skirmish.

Markwick cautioned himself against the measured sense of pride overriding his senses as the boatswain Owens appeared.

“Your orders have been followed to the letter, sir,” the man said.

“Very good, Owens.” He dreaded telling Chloe that he meant to send her ashore. He knew she would not like it one bit. “Prepare to shove off.”

“Shove off?” Chloe asked, bewildered, her mouth agape. “Is that the correct term for sailing into battle?”

A heavy, suffocating weight engulfed his chest. “No.”

She turned to Owens. “Teach me. I cannot wait to—”

Markwick twirled her around to face him and kissed her into silence. Good God, she was incorrigible, delectable, undefeatable! No wonder Walsingham kept a tight rein on her. Her adeptness, the fluidity of her character thrilled him, making him want—no, need—to feel her lips on his one last time before destroying her spirit and burning it to embers.

“Chloe—” He broke off, sighing against her cheek. “This is no place for a woman. I must send you and Jane away.”

She pushed back against him, distancing herself to arm’s length. “I know why you are doing this. You think I am weak. But I’m not. Let me stay. I can help you.”

She’d dressed like a man, prepared to take on a pirate’s yoke, a masterfully cunning and daring choice that had filled him with dread. Nothing, no amount of bravado or skill, could prevent her from getting killed by debris if Carnage or Walsingham fired on the
Fury
. And if they were overcome and boarded, what then?

He couldn’t bear to picture it. “I cannot risk you. Not when we’ve just found each other.”

“I’ve always been here. And I always will be.”

Bitter laughter erupted from his chest. If only that were true.

“What is so funny?”

He stroked her hair. “I adore your spirit, my love. And I will not see it broken.”

“But . . . I love you.” She reached for his mask, but he intercepted her hand. “I refuse to be parted from you now or ever.”

It was a bold move, appealing to his heart and manhood. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t work. A battle at sea was no place for a woman. And he couldn’t subject Chloe to another round of bloodshed, not when her declarations of love and her searching violet eyes promised life. Not when he hungered for everything about her—her touch, her kiss, a blissful future in her arms. Not when he found himself falling in love with her.

Upon his soul, he wasn’t merely falling in love with her. He loved her. He knew now that he’d always desired to love her, which made it more imperative that he got her off his ship and to solid ground as quickly as possible.

“You must go.” Knots coiled inside him as he broke off their embrace. “Now,” he added, urgency surging inside him.

“Go?” He stiffened at her shrill tone. “I cannot. I will not go. I want to help!”

He took her by the arm. “This is the only way to keep you safe.”

Her gaze followed his down the side of the hull to the boat hooked at the fore-chains below. “You cannot truly mean to send me away.”

“You cannot be on board this ship when I sail into
that
.” He pointed at the two sets of sails in the distance, growing ever closer. “I offer no guarantees, but I will do everything within my power to return to you.”

Her lips pursed. “But I want to help. I
must
help you save my brother.”

“You can help us by sailing to safety.” He took Chloe into his arms, threading his hands through her radiant, unbound hair. “I will not gamble with your life, Chloe. Your brother would never forgive me if I did. And I would never forgive myself.”

“I am safer with you. Give me a task, anything . . .”

“You promised me you would do anything to help your brother,” he reminded her.