Pearls of Fire, page 9
The journal revealed how Stefan had acquired the pearls, for it was one of the trinkets in the box that the dying Dutchman had left him. Quite a trinket, indeed. But Stefan had never mentioned anything about their exact origin. They’d both read and reread his entries from start to finish, and there was nothing in them to provide any clues. The importance of the Pearls of Fire was in the rarity of each exquisite pearl. But who was to say there weren’t sea beds full of them sitting somewhere no one had ever thought to look?
While Hugh continued to pace, Emma moved to the bed and picked up her hairbrush to brush her hair before braiding it. Hugh had stopped reading, which meant he wouldn’t stay much longer.
He returned to his desk and snapped the journal shut, then turned to her. “Emma, you look tired.”
She had merely grown tired of reading. Perhaps a yawn had escaped her lips while she’d brushed her hair. But there was something different about him suddenly. Had he discovered something he wasn’t ready to share with her? “Why so eager to leave? Do you know where to find the Pearls of Fire?”
“Of course not,” he said in a seductive rumble.
“But –”
“Lord, my bones are stiff.” He arched his back, using his actions as an excuse to ignore her attempts at conversation.
In truth, he’d spent quite some time – the better part of the night – hunched over the journal, seated on an uncomfortably hard chair.
And not paying her the slightest attention.
Better that way, she reminded herself again.
And why would she seek to tempt him, this pirate who in unguarded moments could seem quite the gentleman? For no reason other than her own foolish pride.
He may have wanted her once, but now he only wanted the Pearls of Fire.
She had to accept it and not allow it bother her. Once she returned to England, gentlemen – real gentlemen from the finest families in England – would come calling.
She sighed, watching the graceful movement of Hugh’s muscles by candlelight. She marveled at his natural ease, the casual way he exuded power and strength.
He reached out, tucked a finger under her chin, and very gently drew her mouth closed. “Hasn’t anyone taught you that it isn’t polite to stare?”
She turned away, appalled to have been caught gaping at him slack-jawed. “I was doing no such thing.” At this moment, she wished she wasn’t the moon-eyed virgin they both knew she was.
“If you say so.” He tweaked her chin again.
“Stop it.”
“Why are you so on edge tonight?” He took a step back with his hands raised as though in surrender.
He had nice hands, big and callused from working the ship’s rigging. His fingers were long and nimble, she knew, having felt their exciting touch. She often watched him in the afternoons with his men, fashioning intricate knots with rope for the rigging. Even when relaxing, Hugh would idly play with pieces of rope, tying and untying them, repeating each knot several times before moving on to another.
“Why shouldn’t I be on edge around you?”
“Because you ought to know by now that I’d never hurt you.”
He was wrong. He would hurt her so badly because she was falling in love with him and couldn’t stop herself.
He caught her gently by the shoulders and regarded her with a surprisingly hurt look in his eyes. “I’ve spent hours here with you, trying my best to earn your trust–”
“By breaking into my room? Pawing through my belongings? Pawing me?” She wasn’t being fair, for she’d felt the same passion for him.
“I won’t deny what I did. You left me no choice but to search through your belongings. It isn’t me who has been keeping secrets. I want you to confide in me, but you’re still closed up tighter than an oyster shell. As for pawing you, I merely started with a gentle kiss. You were the one… never mind. We both lost our heads for a moment.”
She shook her head in disagreement. “What I lost was my heart to you again. But I know this attraction I feel for you is hopeless. I’m afraid of what might happen if I open myself to you.” His hands froze on her shoulders. “Emma, why don’t you try it and see?”
Because she dared not put her heart at risk again. It was men like Hugh, selfish and despicable men who sought the Pearls of Fire, who had caused her so much pain. “What’s the use? Your pirate brain is plotting to find the Langdon treasure.”
“My pirate–” He released her, folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “We pirates can’t help our greed,” he said dryly. “It’s what turns us into pirates in the first place.”
He picked up the journal, placed it back in its hiding spot in the secret compartment of her trunk, then neatly folded her clothes back over it and closed the lid. “I’m through with you and this journal for tonight.”
He sounded more disappointed than angry.
She was glad he had called an end to their evening. Her every waking thought since her mother’s death and father’s disappearance had involved the wretched book and the secrets it held. She ought to have dumped it into the ocean, but dared not before she found her father.
“Good night, Emma,” he said in a gentle voice that belied his annoyance. “I know how difficult it is for you to trust me. I’ll take the blame for that. But things are about to get dangerous. We’ll reach Wamsisi in a few days’ time. You need to believe in me. You need to know I will fight to the death to protect you.”
She wanted to believe him with all her heart. “You ask too much of me.”
“I’ve asked only one thing of you. To trust me,” he whispered, forcing her gaze back to his when she turned away with a sob. “Bollocks, Emma. You’re shaking.”
“Just go, Hugh. Please.”
“I won’t leave my cabin until you get that look out of your eyes.”
“What look?”
“That look of hatred.”
“Is that what you see in my eyes?” The comment surprised her, for she felt quite the opposite about him and had told him so. “It isn’t directed toward you.”
He grunted in disbelief. “I don’t see anyone else in the room.”
“Truly, it isn’t you. It’s them.”
“Them?”
“The pearls. They’re evil.”
“People are evil, Emma. Pearls are just things.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “If you’re thinking about destroying the pearls or Stefan’s journal–”
She tried to hide the guilty look in her eyes.
“Don’t.”
“Is that a threat?”
His fingers tightened on her shoulders, but not enough to cause her any pain. “The pearls are mine, Emma.”
“Only if you find them first.”
Chapter Nine
“You’ll have to speak to me some time,” Hugh said, itching to shake sense into Emma. He would have, if not for the fact that they were on deck, in full view of his men, who were eagerly watching to see which one would lose their first ‘lover’s spat’.
Emma lowered her parasol so that it served as a barrier of pink between them.
He moved to take it from her hands, irritated that she still thought no better of him than when she’d come to his prison cell back in Portsmouth. “No barriers between us, Emma. I’ll toss this damn thing overboard.”
“Give it back!” she cried, the panic in her voice and the vehemence with which she lunged for her parasol taking him by surprise. It wasn’t new or particularly attractive. It was hideously frayed at the edges and unrelentingly pink. All of it. From the tip of its handle to its shady top.
One would think he’d just threatened to toss the Crown jewels overboard.
He handed it back to her before matters got out of hand. “Truce, my sweet. Come below and we’ll talk.”
“So you can threaten me again?”
Wordlessly, he picked her up and hauled her over his shoulder. They’d given his crew enough entertainment.
“How dare you! Put me down!”
Ignoring the grins, winks, and whistles of his men, Hugh marched across the deck and started down the stairs. “I asked you nicely to come below.”
“You didn’t ask.” She struck him with her parasol.
That brought a hearty chorus of laughter from his men.
Fortunately, he and his men had sailed together for years and there was no doubt of his authority. He knew he commanded their respect, although Emma was unwittingly doing her best to undermine him. “Strike me again with that thing and I will toss it overboard.”
He spoke softly, but there was no mistaking his seriousness.
She froze.
“That’s better.” What was it about that parasol? Her fear was palpable. He may as well have plunged a knife into Emma’s heart. He sighed. “Lass, you bring out the worst in me.”
He did not hear her response, assuming she made one, for Jacob suddenly bellowed down to him. “Captain, they’re back!”
He set Emma down, suffering a pang of regret at having to let go of her incredibly soft body, and climbed back on deck. “Where?”
“There.”
A young, dark-haired lad handed him a spyglass, then pointed to a small dot on the horizon. “There, Captain. Could be a British warship, but I can’t make out her flag. I don’t think she’s flying one.”
Hugh fixed his gaze on the horizon. “Damn, I know who it is.”
Emma had scampered up after him and now stood beside him at the railing, her anger apparently melted away. She gripped his arm, an obvious gesture of truce. “Is it pirates? Of course, it is. No British vessel would hide her flag.”
He glanced at her, saw that her brow was furrowed and she was nervously nibbling her lower lip. She had the prettiest lips, especially that fleshy lower one. He silently vowed to take his time exploring it once the danger had passed. “Get below, Emma.”
She nodded. “I’ll find Martine.”
“No, go now. She’s probably down there already.” He nudged Emma. “Quickly, my sweet. Can’t have you in the line of fire.”
He then caught the Irish seaman, Liam, as he scurried past. “Guard the ladies. Don’t let them back on deck until I say it’s safe to do so.”
“Aye, Captain.” The young man hurried off after Emma.
Jacob turned to Hugh. “That mystery ship is coming fast. Why engage us now? A pox on them, I say! We’ll make them regret their decision to fight.”
“Not with Emma on board. There’ll be no fight. And it isn’t a mystery anymore. It’s Nikko who has been following us all these weeks. His Sea Serpent is fast, but we’ll have to outrun her. Raise the sails.”
“Run?” Jacob grunted in surprise. “We’ve never backed down from the challenge before.”
“Haven’t had women on board before.”
“Nikko’s ship is too fast. What if he catches us?”
“Let me worry about that. Do as I say. Sound the order.”
Jacob’s bellow carried across the deck and upward to the crow’s nest. The experienced crew immediately set about their tasks, unfurling the sails and preparing their weapons.
Hugh took the helm.
There was little wind, but enough to fill the mainsail and halyard. In no time, The Persephone began to skim across the water.
Lucifer came to his side a short while later to report on the readiness of the crew. “Everyone’s armed. The men are at their stations. Captain, what if–”
“Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Liam’s protecting the ladies. They won’t come to harm.”
“Hard to have faith when we’re in open waters and there’s no place to hide. The Sea Snake is too fast for us, and if we stand and fight, she’ll blow us out of the water.”
Hugh peered through his spyglass once more and clenched his jaw. “She’s gaining on us. Sound the order. No surrender. If she catches us, we fight to the death.”
“What about the ladies?”
“Hide them.”
Lucifer nodded and was about to obey his command when Hugh called him back. “Wait! Take the helm. I’ll take care of Lady Emma.”
He hurried down to the cabin and spared Emma and Martine barely a glance, his purpose to retrieve the weapon he’d given Emma at the start of the journey. “Where is it?”
“What?”
“The pistol I gave you.”
She pointed to the little bag on the desk. “In there.”
“Take it out. Keep it by your side.”
Martine gasped and seemed frozen in place.
Emma, to his relief, went straight to the desk. “Very well, but am I to have only the one shot?”
Hugh motioned for Liam to grab a sack from the gunnery. Emma, he realized with some pride, was not one to come undone under pressure. But engaging the Sea Snake was dangerous. Its captain, Nikko, was a merciless brute. The thought of Emma in that blackguard’s clutches turned his stomach.
He wanted to protect her, but what if he couldn’t? He forced himself to turn away from Emma before he said or did something really stupid, before he spilled his guts and proclaimed his love for her. Yes, that would be truly stupid.
Martine was now huddled in a corner and about to weep. “Have you ever fired a weapon?” Hugh asked, forcing himself to speak gently and with a patience he did not have.
Martine shook her head. “Non.”
“Here, take this one. It’s easy. Liam will show you what to do when he returns.” He loaded his pistol and coaxed it into her hands. She refused to take it at first. He turned to Emma for help.
Lord, there were so many things he wanted to say to this beautiful, golden-haired girl. By the pleading look in her eyes, he thought she might have something to say back to him.
No, not now.
“These weapons are no match for enemy cannons,” he said quietly instead. “You know what I need you to use them for.”
Emma, balling her hands into fists, refused.
“Listen to me,” he said, grinding out the ragged order. “I know the captain of the Sea Snake. His name is Nikko and I vow he is Satan’s spawn. I have every intention of killing him. I will do all I can to rid the world of this offal. I will do all I can to protect you. But it may not be enough. You cannot let him take you alive. Turn these weapons on yourselves, but only once it is certain all hope is lost. Will you do as I ask?”
She scowled at him.
“Emma, this is no jest.” The girl had been protected all of her life and could not possibly understand the depths of Nikko’s cruelty. Losing her mother and brother to tragedy was nothing to the anguish and brutal abuse she would endure if taken captive by the Sea Snake’s captain.
Cruelty and torture were inner sorrows that shattered one’s soul and damaged one’s heart forever. Even he had turned into a creature with a dark soul while rotting in Portsmouth Prison, waiting to die. “Trust me, Emma. You don’t want to be found alive–”
“Enough, Hugh.” She looked ready to toss the pistol overboard, but her lips pinched in a thin, tense line, and she nodded. Liam returned just then and helped them to topple the desk and drag it across the floor to form a barricade.
Martine once again began to weep.
Emma moved to comfort her and then glanced up at him. “Just go. They need you on deck.”
“Emma–”
“We’ll take desperate action, but only if all hope is lost, as you said. But promise me that you’ll fight to the last man. If I shoot myself, you had better also be dead or I’ll haunt you into eternity.”
He nodded. “I’ll do what I must to keep you safe.”
“Wait!” Martine cried as he turned to leave. She hurried to his side and reached up on tiptoes to plant a desperate kiss on his cheek. “That’s for Jacob, though I don’t expect you to give him that kiss. Tell him that I love him.”
He glanced at Emma.
She refused to look at him.
“Emma?” He should have kissed her that night in Lord Jameson’s moonlit garden. He should have kissed her and proposed to her and told her that he loved her. But he’d been called away in haste, a messenger reporting that his father had been placed under house arrest by the king’s own royal guardsmen. One moment, he and Emma were waltzing in the crowded ballroom and making promises to meet alone in the garden on that splendid night. He remembered the soft music that filled the air and the crush of hot bodies in the crowded ballroom. Mostly, he remembered the sparkle in Emma’s eyes as he twirled her in time to the music.
Nothing had mattered to him in that moment but possessing Emma and never letting her go. Of course, he had let her go when the music ended. She’d gazed up at him with those trusting, hopeful eyes… and she now believed he’d betrayed her.
He raised his hand to caress Emma’s cheek, to run his fingers through her silky curls. “We might never see each other again.”
There was a stubborn set to her jaw. “I won’t say it, Hugh.”
If they were going to die, he and Emma would not part like this. “Close your eyes.”
“Hugh, I don’t think–”
“That’s right. Don’t think.” He swallowed her in his arms and crushed his lips to hers, pouring every kiss he’d ached to give her, every oath he’d meant to give her, every promise he’d wanted to make to her, into that one kiss. He wanted no regrets between them.
She had his heart, just as he had hers.
She was too scared to admit it.
Perhaps, he was too.
“She’s almost upon us,” Jacob growled as the Sea Snake drew within firing distance of The Persephone. Hugh peered through his spyglass. “I swore I’d get even with Nikko for Sir Richard’s murder. I never expected it to be this soon.”
“What are you going to do?”
Hugh’s lungs felt as brittle as ice, each breath crystalline sharp against his chest. He wasn’t afraid. He was determined. He would have his revenge. “Kill him. Blow up his ship.”
Lucifer had also been standing beside him and now cast him a look of alarm. “How? He’ll fire back. What of the ladies? I thought you said we’d avoid a fight unless we had no choice.”
“There’ll be no fighting. Raise the Le Brecque flag along with the skull and crossbones. That’ll rouse his curiosity. Keep him distracted while I swim to his ship.”
