Pearls of Fire, page 20
He said no more as the sound of someone calling his name reached their ears. “Captain Hugh! Captain Hugh!”
She recognized the alarmed cries of Ranji and Lagop.
Hugh’s smile faded and the shadow of darkness clouded his eyes. Emma circled her arms around his neck, felt the ripple and bulge of his tense muscles beneath her hands. “Let me go, my love,” he said, the ache in his voice expressing his own reluctance. “I’ll help you dress. The boys will soon be upon us.”
He rolled to his feet and stretched to his full height to look out across the harbor. The sun’s golden rays fell upon his magnificent, bronzed torso, but Emma took only a moment to admire him before she scrambled to gather her chemise and gown. “Hugh, what’s wrong?”
“A ship has just sailed into the harbor.”
“Can you tell whose it is?”
“No. Bloody hell, it could be Montvey. I have to get you out of here fast.”
Hugh hastily donned his breeches and boots, and then turned to help Emma put on her chemise and lace her gown. After tying the laces, he kissed her shoulder. He had hoped they’d have more time alone. The little they’d had just wasn’t enough.
She glanced up at him and he lost himself in her aquamarine eyes, their soft, blue-green hues drawing him in with the pull of a riptide.
“Captain Hugh!”
He stepped away from Emma to don his shirt and tuck it in, angry and frustrated that his time with Emma was so fleeting. “Ranji,” he said, giving the boys a moment to catch their breaths, “do you know whose ship it is?”
The big-eyed boy nodded. “Lord Montvey. He come very quick. Bring bad laleo.”
Hugh grunted. “Very bad,” he agreed, for The Persephone was still on the reef and Montvey must have seen her before sailing into the harbor. They had less than an hour before his vessel docked. “Ranji, he will want to know where I am.”
“What do we tell him, Captain Hugh?”
He cast a worried glance at Emma. “That we’re all up in the mountains cutting wood for the ship’s repair and will be back in a few days. Tell everyone in the village, they need to give him the same story. He’ll believe it. The village is empty of all but a few old women and children… and you brave boys left to protect them.”
He caught Emma’s quick smile of approval.
He turned to watch the ship sail toward the Wamsisi dock. Emma moved closer to him. “What do we do next?”
“Go into the mountains for the night. It’s too dangerous for either of us to remain here. There are caves near Kepalat Mada. I’ll hide you there, then go in search of my crew and the villagers. Chief Tono will fetch you when it’s safe for you to return.”
Emma frowned, obviously not liking his plan to leave her behind. “I have a better idea,” she said. “We’ll both go in search of your men and the villagers. And when we find them… I think Chief Tono should marry us.”
Hell, no.
Hugh scowled at her. He had no intention of making her the wife of a condemned pirate, assuming their marriage by a local village chieftain would even be recognized in England. It wouldn’t be. Yet, it would be recognized here. Should he consider it? An unmarried Emma would be easy prey for Montvey.
He groaned inwardly, knowing he had to come up with a better plan. “I’ll think about it.”
Emma met his scowl with one of her own. “No, you’ll do it. Hugh, there is no better way to protect me. In truth, it was one of the first things Chief Tono mentioned to me. He feared Montvey would arrive before The Persephone was ready to sail and wished to reassure me. He felt it would protect us both. I think he’s right.”
Hugh fingered the delicate cameo at her throat and felt her madly beating pulse.
He had nothing to offer her. Indeed, had Montvey not made an early appearance, they would never be having this conversation.
They both knew that marriage to him would be a disastrous mistake.
But not marrying him would be worse, leaving her as vulnerable as a plump rabbit amid a pack of hungry wolves.
Chief Tono was right. She needed to marry him, even though he was one of those wolves. There was no other way to protect her. “Very well. Damn it, Emma.”
Ranji kicked him in the leg.
Pain shot into his temples. “Blast you, Ranji. Must it always be my bad leg? What did you do that for?”
“She da best thing that ever happen to you. Dat’s no way to treat Laddie Emma. Even the dumbest pirates know dat.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hugh stood on the little hill overlooking the Wamsisi dock, staring across the mirror-calm waters of the harbor inlet. Ranji was right. Emma deserved better. He glanced up at the clear sky and its bright sunshine, then peered down at Emma who was still frowning at him. But beyond the frown was a look of deep hurt, one that cut his heart to ribbons.
Never one for flowery speeches, he took her hand and cleared his throat while he considered the proper words to say. Blast the boy for being right. It galled him that Ranji should have more sense than he had. Yes, Emma deserved a better response than a grumbled curse. He raked a hand through his hair, not certain how to start. Then Emma’s expression turned soft as the golden sand upon the beach, her gaze filled with hope and love. All of a sudden, everything became clear to him. “I was prepared to propose to you on bended knee on the night of Lord Jameson’s ball.”
Emma’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.
So he continued. “This is hardly a London ballroom, and I doubt I will remain Viscount Brixham for long. But I’m still the man who fell in love with you two years ago. I never stopped loving you, Emma.”
Her big, wide eyes began to sparkle.
He caressed her cheek. “You should not be the one to do the asking because you are afraid for your safety. I should not be agreeing to marry you because it is necessary to protect you… or myself. So let me do this properly and ask you for all the right reasons. Marry me because I love you and will do so to my dying breath. Marry me because you love me.”
“Thank you, Hugh,” she said, melting into his open arms and reaching up to curl her arms around his neck. “Thank you for that lovely proposal. I will marry you… for all the right reasons.”
The boys cheered.
Hugh lifted her up and twirled her around once before setting her back down and pressing a kiss to her smiling lips. “Let’s go find Chief Tono.”
They needed to get into the mountains before Montvey spotted them and hunted them down. But first, he ran down to the village to hastily gather bread and fruit, and a few belongings Emma might need for their trek into the mountains.
He looked around her quarters, his gaze resting on the parasols near the doorway. She’d given the pink one to Chief Tono. He’d taken it with him into the mountains, he recalled her telling him. But did the chieftain realize what he was carrying?
He hurried back to the spot where he’d left Emma. “Does Chief Tono know the Pearls of Fire are hidden in the parasol you gave him?”
“Yes, he knows. He’ll protect them.”
Hugh nodded and held out his hand. “Let’s go, my sweet.”
They hiked for hours through overgrown paths that led far into the jungle, Hugh leading the way with his knife drawn to cut back the shrubs and branches obscuring it. He worried about Emma, for she wasn’t used to walking these sometimes treacherous paths and hadn’t the sturdy boots to protect her feet. As sundown approached, their climb grew steeper, an indication that they’d reached the foot of the mountains.
Tomorrow, they’d climb in earnest.
Hugh paused a moment and stood silent.
Emma cast him a look of worry. “What is it?”
He thought he’d heard the distant roll of thunder. Then he heard it again. “Blast, rain’s coming.” He’d no sooner muttered it than the first drops landed on his forehead. “Ranji told me of a cave not far from here.”
He took Emma’s hand, hoping he was leading them on the right path. The rain fell softly at the moment so that the thick foliage offered some protection. But not even the dense canopy of leaves and intertwined vines above them would offer protection from the torrent about to unleash. The sky turned a dangerous, inky black, and then the cloudburst hit them.
They were soaked to the skin by the time Hugh found the cave’s entrance. “We’ll sleep in here tonight.”
“Where?” Emma asked, shouting over the roar of the pounding rain. “All I see is mud puddles and a wall of shrubbery.”
Hugh took her hand and led her through the dense undergrowth, shouldering several bushes aside to reveal a small opening.
“It isn’t quite as grand as Brixham Hall or Langdon Heath,” he said, stepping inside and drawing her in with him. “But it will keep us out of the storm’s way. I’ll light the lantern then look for some dry tinder to start a fire. There’s a natural chimney in here to guide the smoke upward. We’ll be comfortable enough tonight.”
At least, he hoped so. He was used to sleeping on hard floors, but Emma wasn’t. She waited for him to light the lantern and then followed him deeper into the cave, obviously glad to be finished with the arduous climb and miserable weather.
Hugh worried that the cave might flood, but the worst of the downpour passed quickly. Hugh’s tension eased as the deluge turned into a gentle, misting rain.
The cave itself was surprisingly dry. A little dank, but nothing that a good fire wouldn’t chase out.
Emma blinked her eyes and gasped. “Look, Hugh.”
The light from his raised lantern reflected off the walls, giving the appearance of diamonds glistening within the hard stone.
“Are they real?”
“No, my sweet. They’re merely worthless bits of glass and quartz.”
“It feels like we’ve entered a fairy kingdom.” Emma suddenly gasped again. “Look, our new home is stocked with supplies.”
Hugh stifled a laugh. He’d thought of this as nothing more than a place to settle for the night. Emma had called it a fairy kingdom. More important, she’d called it our home. He supposed that home for him would be wherever Emma was. The notion surprised him, but he found that he rather liked it. “Ranji mentioned that the villagers keep these caves supplied. The Dutch and the English are constantly at war in these parts. Often it’s the villagers who get caught in the crossfire. They run into the hills to protect themselves. Sometimes, they have to hide out for weeks, even months.”
He shook out his oilcloth and turned to help her out of her wet cape, wanting to wrap her in his arms as he did so, for she had the look of a soaked rabbit. Yet, she bore her obvious discomfort with grace and gave no complaint.
After building a fire, he returned to her side and began to remove the pins from her wet hair. “Let’s see about getting you comfortable.” He frowned lightly. “You’re shivering. Come stand closer to the warming flames. Let me help you out of your gown. I’ll set it on this nearby rock to dry.”
She glanced toward the cave’s entrance. “What if Montvey comes looking for us?”
“In this rain? He’s a lazy slug. Little chance of his coming after us tonight.” Hugh ran a hand through his own wet hair. “Do you need help removing your clothes?” He noted that her lips were blue and her body was shaking. “They have blankets here. I’ll wrap one around you when you’re done.”
“Just help me untie the laces. I’ll manage the rest.”
Hugh quickly attended to it. Much as he would have loved to linger at the chore, he knew this was not the time for distractions, no matter how pleasant said distractions would be. Emma was wet and tired, no doubt hungry. She hadn’t griped once during the arduous hike. In truth, she hadn’t complained during their entire sea voyage.
Oh, she’d had lots to say about him. But never once had she voiced dissatisfaction with the simplicity of his cabin or the quality of the food aboard his ship. Nor had she belittled the food or lodgings in Wamsisi.
He glanced at her and his heart swelled with pride.
She was a true lady.
Damned if he knew what she saw in him.
Hugh lifted a pot from amid a jumble of crude cooking supplies and stuck it by the entrance of the cave to collect rainwater.
Emma, now disrobed and wrapped in one of the woolen blankets, stood beside the fire he’d started, warming her hands. “Can I do anything to help, Hugh?”
He gazed at her in surprise. “No, my sweet. Sit down and rest. You’ve earned it.”
“And what about you?”
“I’m a thickheaded pirate,” he said with a wry grin. “I’m used to misery. You… well, you’re melo-melo. Everyone knows that a goddess never tends to menial tasks. She orders people about and they obey with devotion. A goddess doesn’t do any heavy lifting.”
She pursed her lips, obviously uncomfortable with his teasing. “I’m just Emma. An ordinary Englishwoman.”
He shook his head and looked upon her in wonder. “Nothing ordinary about you, my sweet. Never was.”
He shook the water from his own damp clothes, using the chore to distract him from the hot need to take Emma in his arms and plunder her magnificent body. He would tend to that pleasant task once she was warm and fed. Would she be willing? It had been a long walk up those foothills.
She still stood beside the fire, the blanket loosely draped over her slender shoulders. All of her garments were now set out beside her to dry. Her hair tumbled in silken waves of gold down her back. To Hugh, she was an irresistible mix of sultry and innocent. She watched his every move with avid interest, and he knew the moment her curiosity had turned to desire, for she was as innocent as a young pup and could hide nothing of her feelings. “Will you have to go out in the rain again?” she asked.
“No. Everything we need is here.”
“Then you ought to take off your clothes as well. I’ve already seen you naked, so you needn’t be concerned about my delicate sensibilities.”
“Are you that eager for me, my sweet?” He grinned, liking the fact that she felt comfortable enough with him to overlook the state of their dress… or undress… for he was eager to join her in shedding his wet clothes.
A blush crawled up her neck and into her cheeks. “I don’t wish you sneezing on me, that’s all.” But she shook her head and laughed gently, the melodic lilt echoing through the cave. “Don’t make me admit that I’m wanton and depraved when it comes to you.”
He bent down to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Feeling is mutual, my sweet.”
He felt her gaze on him as he removed his shirt and spread it on a rock. He turned and cast her a smug grin. “That’s as far as I dare go for now. There’s still work to be done and you’re already too distracting.”
He retrieved the pot now filled with rainwater and set it on the fire to boil. The bread he’d brought along from the village was soaking wet and inedible. The fruit would do for later. Emma needed something hot to warm her insides. There were onions in a larder, so he quickly withdrew his knife, peeled one, and tossed it in the boiling water.
He found a linen cloth and used it to rub down his body. He would have had more fun rubbing it down Emma’s incredibly tempting body. “Are you hungry, my sweet?”
“What? Oh, yes. Very.” She came to his side and helped him search through the rest of the stored supplies. Along with the onions, they found eggs, flour, potatoes, coconuts, and assorted herbs.
“Emma, have you ever baked?”
She shook her head. “Gentlewomen are never taught anything practical. I don’t know my way around a kitchen. But I’ve watched the native women in the village square. I can give it a try. It didn’t look all that difficult.”
He winced and moved to stoke the fire. “I’d better handle the baking for now. I know how to make biscuits. I’ll wager they’ll be the best you’ve ever tasted.”
“You are a wonder, Lord Brixham.” She cast him a glittering smile. “I’m most impressed.”
He rose from his position by the fire and studied her with some concern. “We have a few minutes before the soup is ready. How do you feel, Emma? Warm enough?”
She wiggled her bare toes and allowed the blanket to slip off one creamy shoulder. “Not nearly enough,” she said with a soft purr that set his blood on fire. “What do you have in mind, my lord?”
Hugh’s growl of pleasure sent a tingle up Emma’s spine. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, eager to feel the strength of his arms around her and taste his finely formed lips on hers. His quickening breaths tickled her ear, and his deft fingers grazed her skin as he slid the blanket off her.
She tipped her head up to meet his gaze, no longer embarrassed by the intimacy they were about to share.
They would soon be husband and wife, but were already so in her heart.
“Emma,” he said in a gravelly whisper. “Are you sure, my love?”
At her nod, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up against his body, holding her closely to him. His skin was warm and golden. His arms formed muscled bands around her waist as he caught her in his delicious embrace.
Her body tingled at the impact of her breasts molding to his chest, and her blood began a slow, simmering boil that started in her toes and quickly worked its way upward. Her legs turned to pudding. Butterflies now flitted madly in her stomach. But it was the slow coil of heat in those most private places that had her blushing furiously. She clung to him with all her might as the simmering heat turned fiery. “Hugh–”
He gave her no chance to speak before his mouth descended on hers, his lips crushing hers to reveal the desperate craving they both shared. “I thought I could hold back,” he said, his voice gruff and urgent as he eased back a moment.
“I knew I couldn’t,” she admitted.
He emitted a pained laugh as he wound his fingers in her hair, not caring that it was wet and messy, tumbling wildly over her shoulders and onto his arms in a liquid splash of gold. He held her steady as her entire body turned liquid, and kissed her hard, kissed her with a devastating yearning.
