Authors: Susannah Merrill
Itwasadream,shewassure,assureasshe could be of anything in this hideous nightmare she was living. A presence, so pervasive, so real that she screamed before she actually saw the shadowy form of a man stepping silently from beneath the winding staircase on the other side of the threestoried hall.
Alerted by her cry, d’Alava whirled about, instinctively forcing her back against his chest as his free hand drew the pistol from its sheath. He aimed it at the slowly approaching figure. “Let her go, Simon, and make peace with your Maker.”
Thevoice.Sofamiliar.Cruel,unforgiving. Yet, a balm for the senses. Sarah stared, her emotions rising to joy and falling to despair with each furious beat of her heart. Had she lost consciousness? Was it a nightmare, this dear, sweet vision of the only man in the world who would ever have her love? “Stewart,” she whispered tearfully, prayerfully, hoping against hope that the portrait would not fade away at the sound of her voice.
“A cruel act of fortune that you somehow escaped your intended demise,” d’Alava uttered coldly, his breath pricking as it stirred the hair above Sarah’s ear. “For now you will suffer a slow, painful death as you observe the submission of your harlot to her new lover.” As if to emphasize his words, the pirate’s restraining hand rose from Sarah’s waist to clamp painfully on her breast. Impulsively, she struggled, but it was useless. His grip was too strong, too hurtful. The man, who looked so much like Stewart, did not flinch, though his dark eyes narrowed imperceptibly, dangerously.
“You have one shot, d’Alava.” The confident, resonant voice seemed to reverberate throughout the house, sending chills of trepidation through Sarah’s abused body. “God help you if you miss.”
Fearlessly, the unarmed man moved another step closer, his mystical arrogance having a sure effect on the couple before him.
Suddenly, without warning, d’Alava turned the barrel of the pistol inward so that it stuck painfully into Sarah’s ribs. When she gasped, the pirate jerked her back more closely to his chest. “One more step and she and the child are dead!”
That warning, so desperately offered, stopped the apparition cold, an unearthly glint of pure, unadulterated loathing seeping from every fiber of his being.
NeverhadSarahseensuchaghoulish, heinous sight as the total aura of revulsion that emanated from this man. It wasn’t Stewart, and yet, it was. Her body shook from the effects of the malevolent hatred passing over her to the man who clutched her more tightly to him. D’Alava sensed it too. She could feel his body cringe. Did this mean ... could it be ... was it really?
Ablacknesspulledathereyelids.Herknees buckled, given unannounced to a will of their own. The floor was suddenly there to meet her cheek as a gunshot echoed about her.
Wake up!” Insulted by the quick, painless slap on her cheek, Sarah’s eyes flew open to see a thin, brown face creased with worry hovering over her.
“Galena?”Shefrownedinconfusion.Shehad expected d’Alava to be the perpetrator of such abuse. “Where-where is ...?”
A relieved grin swept away the maid’s clouded expression. “Señora, you awake! She be awake!” The last statement was directed toward another presence, and Sarah closed her eyes again, swallowing weakly, praying for the blackness to return. Anything to postpone the inevitable.
Daring to believe her ears, Sarah gingerly turned her head, which was pillowed in Galena’s lap, her eyes fluttering open once more. “Stewart?” Her childlike voice verified her disbelief.
“Atyourservice,”hechuckledwryly,his brown eyes warm and reassuring, “and not a moment too soon.” His large, warm hand found her smaller, cold one and he gripped it firmly as it to prove that he was real and not a ghost.
“Thoughtd’Alavadidmein,eh?”hemocked her playfully. “You never did have much faith in me.”
Sarah nodded, and with their help, was lifted shakily to her feet. Galena scurried off the floor behind her. Only half out of need for support, Sarah twined her arms around Stewart’s waist, resting her head on his comforting chest, reveling in the safe feeling of his arm about her shoulders. Her head was clear, knowing no dream, no matter how beautiful, could match the intensity of her happiness at this moment. “Thank God you’re alive.”
“Your man be the best pirate I never saw, the way he use that knife.” The maid offered eagerly. “Bastard killed with he own blade, just so!” She made a slicing gesture beneath her chin, adding a sound effect for emphasis. “I see everything. Great show! You miss best part. But that all right. You still see what left.” She pointed to a place behind Sarah’s shoulder, to which Sarah began to turn until Stewart stopped her.
“I don’t think Sarah’s quite prepared for the sight of a corpse, Galena,” knowing his guess was correct when he felt her shudder. “Besides, we have to go.”
“Wherearewegoing?”Sarahlookedup curiously, drinking in the sight of his gloriously handsome face.
Stewart shook his head disbelievingly. “You don’t think we’ve gone to all this trouble to stay on the island? Sarah, we’re escaping. We’re going to America.”
Itmustbeadream.Somuchhadhappened in the past few hours that escape had paled in comparison to survival. And now she was to have both! “Can Galena come with us?” the spontaneous question was met by Stewart’s speculative glance.
“Galena,willyoucome?”Sarahpleaded, reaching out to squeeze the dark-skinned young woman’s arm. “I-I don’t have a maid any longer,” she told her sadly, “and you’ve been so good to us.”
“Señora,” Galena smiled warmly, returning the affection, “you make me very happy. But I not want to leave my people. I safe here now that bad pirate gone.”
“Are they, Stewart?” Sarah asked, her face echoing concern for the waifish girl. “Is she safe remaining here?”
“D’Alava and Turgot are dead and they were behind all this.” He spread his arm to indicate the mansion and the feudal system it represented. “Galena told me the other pirates are more or less peaceful, accepted as members of the community. I think she’s safe,” he reassured her, smiling at the grinning maid. “Perhaps she can now enjoy a life of her own, among her people. We could not give her that in my country.”
“Ishallneverforgetyou,Galena,”Sarah murmured tearfully, turning from Stewart to give the girl a heartfelt hug. “Your kindness and friendship have more than made up for our captivity.”
“You be here always for me,” Galena replied, pressing her hands to her breast when Sarah had released her. “Go now, quick!” She gave the other woman a hasty push, waving tearfully as Stewart pulled Sarah toward the front door.
Outside, Stewart made a careful assessment of their jungle surroundings, silently cautioning Sarah not to speak as he led her quickly down the path that ended at the beach. She was brimming with a sense of well-being so pervasive that it never occurred to her to be afraid, not with her small hand tucked safely in Stewart’s much larger and stronger one, seeing only the reassuring breadth of his muscled shoulders before her. He was alive and whole, and her crushed and battered soul was resurrected and soaring.
He stopped suddenly and Sarah saw that they were at the edge of the jungle which overlooked a wide expanse of light sand separating them from the slowly incoming tide. Farther out, looking much like a skeletal statue cast about on the restlessly lapping blue waters of the natural cove, was a ship. Stewart’s ship. “Damn,” he hissed impatiently, “the longboat is gone. We’ll have to swim.” He turned back to her, his look of preoccupied seriousness leaving her somewhat unsure. “Can you swim?”
With an angry toss of his wind-ru ffled hair, he ground out, “This is no bloody wading pool, Sarah. Listen and do exactly as I tell you, do you hear?” She nodded, wide-eyed. “We’re going to make a dash for the tide. Don’t look around. Just run for your life, do you understand?” She nodded. “As soon as we are well in the water, I want you to climb on my back. Hold on to my shoulders and as your life depends on it, don’t let go!” He again surveyed the coastline, and then pulling her up beside him, asked, “Are you ready?”
“I’mready,”sheo fferedfirmly,hopingher confident timbre did not reveal the doubts that threatened to unnerve her. The ship seemed a speck on the horizon and the tide would fight their efforts all the way. Stewart was undoubtedly a strong swimmer, but could he make his destination with her clinging to his back?
At least she could run swiftly, as Stewart was soon to note when they began their dash to the sea. Her long-legged strides nearly matched his own and when her skirts threatened to prove an encumbrance, she pulled her hand from his. Without breaking rhythm, she yanked her petticoat from beneath her gown until they pulled away with a ripping sound.
Quickly understanding her action, Stewart grabbed the white material falling out from underneath her blue-flowered skirt and she fairly flew out of the constricting folds, stumbling only slightly over the heap. Her slippered feet hit the chilly waters only seconds before his and she made a high-stepping dash for as long as it was possible in the rising, choppy waves. Feeling strong and exhilarated by the cool, salty water, Sarah dived into the approaching wall of water, landing back on her feet in the shoulder-deep brine. She looked for Stewart and found him a few yards to her side, whipping the droplets from his suddenly straight hair. When he’d wiped his eyes, he spotted her, calling, “C’mon you brazen mermaid. Hold on to me and let’s hope Jeremiah sees us before the pirates do!”
Bouncing up and down on the soft, sandy bottom, she navigated her way to him, grasping his shoulders without another word. Taking one last deep breath, Stewart plunged them into the swirling blue waters and took off in quick, powerful strokes. Sarah, painfully aware of her role as a hindrance, did her level best to hold on tight. But it seemed the longer Stewart swam, the farther away the ship lay anchored. How long could his determined arms and legs propel them before he reached exhaustion?
And then, almost without warning, Sarah spied a vision that was imminently more threatening than the limits of Stewart’s endurance. A long boat was coming toward them at great speed. Six or eight men, she could not tell for sure, manned the oars. Pirates!
She must have cried out, for Stewart momentarily broke his feverish pace, casting his gaze about until he, too, spotted the swiftly approaching vessel. There was no way they could reach the ship before they were captured, but Stewart was bound and determined to try. With inhuman fortitude, he forced his fatigue-shaken limbs to move them onward. But even he was forced to admit defeat when the unmistakable ping of gunshot sprayed about them in the treacherous waters.
“Hold your breath,” he sputtered over his shoulder and when headlong into the underwater until Sarah thought her chest would explode. Surfacing again amidst a spray of bullets, he repeated his command as Sarah gulped convulsively for life-giving air. Bent on playing this desperate game of hide-and-seek, the swimmers were unaware that another boat had entered the churning waters, fast on a course that, if successful, would cut off the pirates from their prey.
she nodded, he plunged brackish sea, swimming
It was a miracle, nothing short of it, Sarah decided when, after she broke water for what could only be the last time, she witnessed the strange scene of one pirate, then another, and still another, falling overboard. They weren’t diving, but screaming and plummeting awkwardly. But how ..?
It was Stewart who realized they had been rescued at last, suddenly pulling her arm so she slid off his back, then holding her by the waist as they treaded water. They had been sighted by Jeremiah and it was the Endeavour’s longboat crew that had been responsible for the shower of bullets, holding off the pirates from their quarry until they were within range to murder.
“We’ve been saved,” Stewart managed to gasp as he watched the lopsided skirmish. The speeding pirates’ boat had suddenly become a ghost ship as its crew was annihilated before any had a chance to turn tail and run.
And then they could make out the poised, commanding figure of Captain Slade standing at the bow, two pistols in his hands, directing the oarsmen toward them. Bedraggled, nearly drowned, the two clung to each other, lacking even enough energy to hail their rescuers. And when the vessel finally made its way alongside them, and Sarah felt Jeremiah’s steady hands pulling her up, she managed a small “thank you” before falling into a peaceful unconsciousness she wanted to last forever.
CHAPTER 30
Itwasevening.Thedullgoldenglowofa lantern swinging silently with the rolling ship made dark, yet strangely warm and comforting shadows about the spacious cabin. From among the snuggling folds of the downy comforter draped over her in the oversized bunk, Sarah eyed the familiar surroundings peacefully, knowing full well where she was and that she was safe.
But she was tired, so tired her muscles ached, and there was a briny taste in her mouth, as well as a gnawing emptiness in her stomach. Still the physical discomforts did little to assuage the numbing restfulness that came with knowing all was well.
Ornearlyso.Asfullconsciousnesswas regained, a painful germ of unhappiness fought for dominance of her thoughts. She was safe, rid of the terrible fears that had engulfed her when d’Alava sought to claim her for his own, but the fact remained that divine intervention had saved her, and not the man she loved with all her heart. Oh, it was true that Stewart had killed the horrible pirate and had risked his own life to spare hers, but the miserable truth was still a soul-searing reality: Stewart had planned to leave her behind.