Captured (42 page)

She glanced outside the window. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

“Not for a few hours. All Sharpe wants is for me to bring the ship out, execute a few maneuvers, then bring her back in. Besides, Monty’s going with me. Nothing could possibly go wrong.”

She watched as he checked his gun, then tucked it into the back of his boot. The steel grip of the pistol was barely visible between the edge of his boot and the deep gray of his pants leg. “Then what do you need that for?” she asked.

Cole straightened and sent her a lopsided grin. “In case something goes wrong.”

Devon stared at him grimly. Cole sighed and pulled her into his arms. “Sharpe won’t even be aboard,” he said. “According to the note, he’ll be watching the maneuvers from somewhere onshore. I couldn’t get near the man right now even if I wanted to. It’s just another test, Devon. One more hoop he wants me to jump through before he’ll hand over his ship.”

Cole brushed his lips lightly over hers. He pulled back and weaved his hand through her hair, staring at her intently. He shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I love you, Devon. Will you forgive me for waiting until now to say it?”

Shock and disbelief coursed through her body. She felt her mouth drop open as she stared at him, certain she’d heard him incorrectly. “You…”

“I love you.”

“Oh, Cole…” Given that her heart was swelling to three times its normal size, taking up all the room in her chest and robbing her lungs of air, it was no wonder that her voice came out as little more than a breathy whisper. “When…”

“When did I finally realize it?” he completed for her, his grin broadening. “I think it all started that night I got you drunk on brandy. There was no turning back from there.”

“And you waited until now to tell me?”

He shrugged. “You know what dreadful timing I have.”

“The worst,” she agreed vehemently, fighting back the tears that suddenly stung her eyes. “Not only that, you’re stubborn, logical, opinionated, and I love you so much, Cole—” Her voice broke, and he gathered her into his arms. Devon squeezed him as hard as she could, willing every ounce of love and passion she possessed for him into the embrace. “Please don’t go, Cole. Please don’t go.”

He pulled back and smiled softly. “I promise I’ll be home in time for supper. Will you wait for me?”

Forever. Longer than that if I have to. Just come back to me, Cole. Come back to me. Devon nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. Rationally she knew that he was right, there was nothing to worry about. But it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep from grabbing him by the shirttail and begging him not to go. Something was wrong. She knew it in her heart, but was powerless to stop it.

She followed Cole downstairs. Monty was waiting in the kitchen. He sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea as he chatted with Elize, who stood at the stove stirring a pot of soup. Like Cole, Monty had changed his attire after their picnic. He looked fresh and ready to go, dressed in one of his newly laundered plaid suits.

“Well, Captain,” he said brightly, “the show is on. Are you ready?”

Cole nodded. “Ready.”

“Wait!” Devon cried. “Maybe I should come with you—”

“No,” Cole and Monty answered in unison.

“But—”

“Devon,” Cole said, placing his hands lightly on her upper arms, “everything’s going to be fine. Just promise me you’ll wait here until we return.”

She shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why are you taking this kind of risk? If Sharpe has set a trap, don’t you see you’ll be walking right into it? He’s the one who needs a captain, let him come to you. You can meet him in town or here at the house. Anywhere would be safer than aboard his ship, surrounded by his men.” She rattled off a list of possible scenarios and less risky courses for them to take. “Uncle Monty, surely you can see—”

“Now, now, my girl, no sense wasting any more time.”

“But—”

“Promise the you’ll wait here,” Cole repeated.

Devon balled her fists against the fabric of her skirt. She looked from her uncle to her husband, feeling helpless and angry and worried all at once. She took a deep breath and reluctantly nodded. “I promise.”

Cole smiled. “Love you,” he whispered softly. “I’ll be back soon to show you how much.” He gave her a quick kiss, then walked out the door.

“Trust me, my girl,” Monty said as he followed. “I’ve never let you down yet, have I?”

Devon watched in dismay as they mounted and took off at a full gallop, disregarding every one of her more sensible suggestions. She turned to Elize. “Why wouldn’t they listen to me? Can’t they see how foolhardy this is?”

Elize shook her head. She let out a heartfelt sigh and wiped her hands on her apron. “Men smart. Women smarter.”

Devon forced a tight smile. “I’ll be upstairs.”

She left the kitchen and took the steps slowly, her thoughts in jumbled turmoil. She could understand why Cole was so anxious to capture Jonas Sharpe. His own personal vendetta, combined with his sense of duty and honor, were making him race forward. Clouding his thoughts to the point where cool reason could no longer penetrate. But that was a dangerous way to operate.

Uncle Monty had taught her that. He constantly stressed the need for cool thought and analytical reasoning. Normally he had an elaborate plan, one with every contingency covered. Yet her uncle himself was rushing into this, with nothing but vague assurances that everything would be all right. It was not like him at all.

She stood in Cole’s room, randomly picking up items, then setting them down. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong‌—‌the thought pounded away at her brain, making her head ache and twisting her stomach into knots. The dream she’d had the first night they’d docked in Wilmington loomed over her like a dark specter. But the more she tried to pinpoint what was wrong, the more hazy everything became. A desperate sense of urgency swept through her. She should move, take action, but she didn’t know what to do.

She left the room and walked down the hall, hesitating outside Uncle Monty’s room. Fighting back feelings of disloyalty, she pushed open the door and glanced inside, unsure for what she was looking. Nothing was amiss. Devon sighed with regret for having invaded his privacy. The room was a little sloppy perhaps, but that was all. Monty had changed and tossed the suit he’d been wearing haphazardly across his bed. She went automatically to pick it up and hang it in the wardrobe for him.

She lifted the jacket and smoothed it out, trying to ease away the wrinkles, when she felt something sharp sting her palm. Frowning, she reached inside the pocket and removed a long, slim wire. Devon stared at it in uneasy bewilderment, then suddenly remembered a trick Monty had shown her years ago: when fastened around a horse’s fetlock, it made the animal appear lame. Sick dread gathered in the pit of her stomach. He’d left them that afternoon on purpose, but why? As she pondered the question, a familiar scent drifted up to her from the jacket she held. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Sweet, heavy, cloying… cloves.

Jonas Sharpe.

Devon let the jacket slip from her hands and fall to the floor. She closed her eyes, absorbing the shock and pain. “Oh, Uncle Monty,” she whispered hoarsely, “what have you done? What have you done?”

Can I trust Monty? Cole had asked her only that morning. Her reply had been unequivocal, recklessly certain. I trust him with my life. But it wasn’t her life that was at stake now. It was Cole’s.

Devon tore downstairs and raced into the kitchen, her promise to wait for him at the house instantly abandoned. “Elize, I have to get to Cole, I have to warn him—”

“What is it, mistress?”

Her voice came out choked and hoarse. “I don’t have time to explain. Cole’s in trouble. I have to warn him, stop him before it’s too late.”

Elize straightened, her face creased with worry. “You know where—”

“Yes, yes I saw the note! Someplace called Green Turtle Quay. How do I get there?”

“John will take you.”

The two women raced into the yard, shouting for Elize’s husband. Fortunately they caught him just before he left for town. Though they moved with speed and efficiency as they saddled the horses, to Devon’s strained nerves it seemed to take forever. Nor did John ride as well as she did. She found herself holding back to keep from speeding ahead of him.

As they crested the top of a hill, she saw a glittering teal bay spread out beneath her. The small cove was banked by a treacherous reef on two sides, with a narrow channel that opened out to sea. The remote bay was the perfect hiding spot for the frigate, as the warship would not be seen by anyone approaching from sea. Devon’s gaze focused on the party of five men who set off from the beach, pushing a small boat through the waves. She recognized Cole and her uncle immediately. “Cole!” she screamed, “Cole, don’t!” The wind carried her words away and the men set off, rowing toward the frigate.

Devon dug her heels into her mount, intending to race down to the beach, but John shouldered his horse in front of her, stopping the movement. “Too late,” he said. “This way.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then immediately saw that he was right. They’d taken the only boat oh the beach. By the time she reached the shoreline, not only would she be too late to warn Cole, but her only way to reach the warship would be to swim. Her terror increased as she watched the small boat bob toward the frigate.

John took off at a gallop moving east, away from the bay. Devon had no choice but to follow. They crested a higher ridge and tore down the steep slope on the other side. Grounded on the beach was a group of fishing boats that had been pulled ashore. A cluster of men worked inland spreading out nets to dry. Devon’s heart slammed against her chest as hope surged anew. Please, she silently prayed, let there be enough time. Let me reach them in time.

She and John raced to the shore and leaped from their mounts, quickly commandeering the largest boat. The crashing waves nearly dragged her under as they fought against the current to push the boat out to sea. The fishermen raced toward them, screaming in protest, but they didn’t stop to explain. They pushed the boat into the water, then climbed aboard and raised the sail, ignoring the clamor of the men who watched from the beach. John tilted the rudder and directed them out to sea, intending to go around the bay and back into the cove through the channel, but Devon stopped him. “The reef! Go over the reef.”

“Too dangerous.”

She gripped his wrist in dull panic, aware that she was not only risking her own life, but asking him to risk his as well. “John, we don’t have a choice. We don’t have time. There’s no other way.”

He studied her intently, then brought the small boat around. They entered the reef, tossed about by the savage currents and random winds. Devon’s heart pounded furiously as she stared through the crystal waters at the deadly, jagged coral directly beneath them. The coral was sharper than glass, and far more dangerous. One strong gust of wind and the hull would be torn off the boat. If they capsized, it would slice through their skin.

Fortunately John sailed better than he rode. They made it through the violent, swirling currents and put into the calm water of the bay. They were beside the frigate almost immediately, their small boat gently bumping up against the massive hull.

Devon reached for the knotted rope that was flung over the side and climbed up, John directly behind her. The coarse rope burned into her palms as the weight of her sodden riding skirt threatened to drag her down, but she made it. She reached the deck, gasping and out of breath. She ducked beneath the ship’s rail, amazed to find that none of Sharpe’s men was there to stop her. Glancing around, she thought that the deck was deserted, until the sound of men’s voices raised in anger drifted toward her from the aft section.

Devon lifted her drenched skirts and raced in that direction as John clambered on board behind her. “Wait,” she heard him call, but she couldn’t listen. She was operating on pure terror now. She understood immediately why no one had seen their approach. The crewmen were all clustered aft. Uncle Monty, Jonas Sharpe, and Earl Finch stood with their backs to her. She looked beyond them and drew up short, choked with horror. Two of Sharpe’s crewmen pinned back Cole’s arms; his lip was cut and bleeding.

Uncle Monty’s words slowly penetrated her brain. “Nothing personal, my good friend,” he said to Cole, “surely you of all people can see that Devon deserves better. I’m only trying to do what’s best for her.”

Cole’s face went dark with fury as he struggled against the men who held him. “You son-of-a-bitch!” he roared. “You set me up!”

Devon froze, feeling as though she were trapped in a nightmare in which she could neither move nor speak. She watched as Jonas Sharpe raised his pistol, but Monty immediately caught his arm, lowering it. Devon nearly collapsed in relief. Then her uncle’s words reached her.

“Please,” he said to Sharpe, “allow me.”

Monty raised his hand and pointed a pistol directly at Cole’s chest “No,” she screamed, but the word scarcely came out. It was rough and raw and weak, a choked plea she could barely get through her throat.

The sound was enough to carry to Cole. She saw his gaze shift, his eyes widening in horror as he saw her.

Monty fired.

“No!” This time the scream was torn from her throat, a primitive sound of pain she hadn’t known she was capable of making. Her uncle, Sharpe, and the rest of the men spun toward her in surprise, but her eyes were focused only on Cole.

He jerked his head toward Monty as he staggered back, then brought his hand up against his chest, staring down in stunned disbelief as blood poured through his fingers. He swayed, shock etched clearly on his features as he collapsed against the rough wooden deck.

“No! No!” Devon couldn’t stop screaming. She rushed toward Cole, vaguely aware of Monty yelling for her, of hands reaching out to stop her. John lunged forward but was abruptly brought down by three crewmen who tackled him and held him still. Devon fought off the men who tried to stop her and threw herself down beside Cole.