Beautiful Tempest(25)

She pushed that thought away and said, "I think I need to shoot you anyway and take my chances with your crew."





Chapter Eleven




THE SHARP RAP ON the door startled Jacqueline, but she didn't turn her pistol in that direction, keeping it steady on Bastard, and said softly, "Whoever that is, tell them to go away."

"Enter," he called out. He didn't even take a moment to consider doing that!

He'd never done that before, either. Anytime his crew needed him on that previous voyage, they'd knocked and he'd left the cabin to talk to them instead of allowing them access. Always locking the door behind him, too. She'd assumed he'd been protecting his crew, making sure she wouldn't be able to recognize any faces other than his. She wondered why he was behaving differently on this second kidnapping.


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A frightening thought struck her. She wasn't going to survive this time.

The crewman who stepped inside the captain's cabin was nearly as tall as Bastard. He wore his blond hair queued back and had a pleasant visage-well, he was actually handsome. And he didn't exactly look like a sailor in that billowing lawn shirt open at the neck, tight britches, tall boots, a fancy gold chain around his neck. It was uncannily similar to how her father dressed aboard ship! The only thing missing was the single gold earring James often sported at sea and even occasionally in London. And then it hit her. The man was blond and the right height, and just as strapping as her mystery man.

"You're the masked man I danced with at the ball!" she accused.

The blond man had the audacity to grin at her before saying, "No, ma'am, I'm not. Wouldn't be caught dead in one of those torture chambers." But then he glanced at his captain. "Do you need help?"

"No, she's only got a single bullet. She's not going to waste it." Bastard tossed a key to the crewman, though it didn't quite reach him and slid across the floor to stop near his feet. "But you can lock the door on your way out."

Jacqueline's eyes flared. Get locked in the room with Bastard? He'd take cover again, forcing her to get closer to him, and she knew exactly how that would play out. So she pointed her pistol at the blond.

"I'll waste this bullet if you reach for that key, I promise you I will. Kick it over toward me."

The man didn't do that; instead he looked at his captain to tell him how to proceed.

Bastard sighed. "Let it go. She's angry enough to do something rash. Your business was . . . ?"

"You wanted to know when her brother woke up."

Bastard smiled at Jacqueline as he replied, "She wants me to think they aren't related."

"Get rid of him then?"

"No, we're well stocked. At least we don't need to fish for our dinner this time, so another few mouths to feed doesn't matter. Both those gents might still come in useful."

"He won't be a bargaining chip," Jacqueline warned. "You might as well let him go while you still can."

Bastard raised a brow at her. "You don't think we'd kill him before tossing him off the ship when you have frequently called us a murdering lot? We can't let him go alive. Dead men tell no tales, you know. So which is it: Do you care about this fellow or do you not?"

She wasn't going to answer that and said instead, "I recall hearing you assure me you weren't a murderer. Of course, I didn't believe you at the time and never will, so it's moot. But the fate of my hirelings isn't going to be decided by either of you." She waved the pistol at the crewman again. "Close the door, then walk over to Bastard so he can tie you up. You're not letting his crew know that I have the upper hand." 

The blond man laughed at the absurd order.

Bastard said laconically, "I think she's serious."

Amusement gone, the crewman, or whoever he was, said, "The devil I will. Take your best shot, Jack Malory, if you're going to. Otherwise, I'm getting back to work."

She was angry enough to shoot the man, and she wanted to! But she couldn't waste her only chance of getting off that ship by using the captain as her shield. So she watched the door close behind the man before glancing at Bastard again.

"He's not a sailor," she said, pointing out the obvious in a contemptuous tone.

"Neither was I, but my friend and I have adapted fairly well."

"Your friend? You consider your crew to be friends? Yes, of course you do," she sneered. "Pirates are all for one and one for all."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't know. I did tell you before that we weren't pirates, didn't I?"